For Love of a Wolf: Alric’s Story

by SpikesKat

Chapter 19

While Joyce and Buffy were upstairs occupied with making plans for the nursery – the last room of Joyce and Giles’ new townhouse to get decorated – Spike left Giles to his own devices so he could make a quick stop by the apartment Alric had rented before vanishing. He didn’t expect to find anything changed; the N’agrom would have called otherwise.

But, even after six months, Alric’s scent still lingered in the rooms. And he needed that right now. Needed to feel like he was close to the youngest of his childer, even if it was only an illusion.

Sighing heavily, Spike used the key and let himself into the apartment. As he expected, nothing was out of place; dust collected on the apartment’s meager possessions. He wandered from room to room, inhaling deeply at times as the scent of Alric became more prevalent in places than in others.

“Where are you, Alric?” he murmured quietly to the vacant room.

An hour later, he was back in Giles’ study with Buffy none the wiser to his absence. He’d yet to tell her of the true reason behind Alric’s disappearance, not wanting her to worry. If something didn’t happen soon, however, he was going to have to confess. He mentally cringed at the hell he’d be forced to pay in the telling and eagerly consumed the libation Giles held out to him.

Giles quirked his eyebrow in query, but Spike ignored him and drank the liquor down in one swallow and then held out his empty glass for a refill. Giles complied, and this he sipped at a more leisurely pace, as befitting a single malt whisky. He appreciated the fact that Giles didn’t probe, instead sitting across from him in a vacant chair and speaking of mundane matters – his new shop, the last bit of decorating to be done to the townhouse, the joy of seeing Joyce grow round with child and all that it entailed.

Several hours went by before Joyce and Buffy returned, the two women talking excitedly as they let themselves into the study and took a seat on the couch. Spike glanced at Giles and saw the man’s rueful expression.

“Poor bastard,” Spike couldn’t help but laugh to himself, imagining how much lighter the former watcher’s pockets were going to end up being once the nursery was finally complete.

Still, he was pleased to see that the worn edges around Buffy’s eyes were temporarily banked. With the names of several of the more prominent demon slavers in hand, thanks to Alric, the Clan had gone to work systematically obliterating the farms in and around England. It had been a shock to all of them at seeing the sheer volume of humans locked away in pens, many of them no older than the Slayer.

It was seeing the children being treated no better than animals that had gotten to his wife, the youngest they’d rescued thus far barely three years old. Each successive breeding farm they’d discovered had been another weight on her shoulders. Shoulders already burdened with enough to carry. 

Granting Buffy this time with her mother seemed a small price to pay to keep her from losing it completely. If he had to suffer through baby talk and decorating tips, so be it. 

Though he did wonder if showing the Slayer a glimpse of what she’d never have for herself – a child of her own – was making matters worse. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Angel had been watching the house all week and was fairly confident of the elderly woman’s schedule. The biggest problem he’d had since coming to the small town had been remaining hidden from the overwhelmingly Indian population, and a decidedly suspicious one at that. 

Seeing his intended target make her way up the dirt walk to the modest house at the end of the street, Angel left his hiding space and snuck up behind the woman just as she went to open the front door. He wrapped his arms around her, one hand covering her mouth, preventing her from crying out for help. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he murmured into the woman’s ear as she struggled against him. His eyes darted up and down the street to make sure no one was looking. Thankfully the few houses were spaced far apart and he easily lifted the woman and carried her around back, away from prying eyes. 

Once in the back yard, Angel immediately set the woman down on her feet and took a step back, trying to assure her by his actions that he meant her no harm. 

“I need your help,” he began without preamble as he gazed into brown eyes wise beyond their years. Praying she would understand what he was saying. 

“Ana’i,” the woman hissed, pointing a finger in his direction as she took a step backwards. 

“I’m not— I won’t—” then, “Damn. This was a stupid idea.” Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair, upsetting the gel that had slicked the locks into place. Taking a chance, he uttered the boy’s name. 

It garnered an immediate reaction – rapid-fire speech in a language he didn’t understand as she stalked towards him, arms raised as if to hit him. Then it was he that was taking a step back, hands raised in a placating gesture as he stuttered out an explanation about the boy, that Hakan was relatively unharmed, if still held captive, but that he needed someone the boy would recognize when he was rescued, to know that it was safe. Angel just wished he knew the girl’s name. 

His story must have had some impact on the elderly woman, because she stopped and began in halting English, “Hakan is well?” 

“For a little while longer, yes.” I hope. “But, I need you to come with me. I need someone he recognizes. Someone he trusts.” 

After first getting Hakan’s initial location from the Marabori, Angel had been trailing behind the boy as he’d been passed – much like a hot potato – among different demon clans. It was almost as if each successive owner realized the bad karma associated with possessing the boy and were eager in their haste to get rid of him. The constant moving had made it difficult rescuing Hakan; the one time he’d nearly been successful, he’d been caught unaware by a secondary assailant and wound up with a stake to his back. A stake that had narrowly missed his heart. 

He’d had to heal on his own, which had caused much of the delay since he couldn’t feed properly, leaving him weak as a result. Calling Doyle for help had been out of the question; he’d sworn to Alric he’d not say a word and he meant to keep his promise. If he’d told Doyle what had happened and why, Doyle would have been obligated to call Spike – the two were friends, after all – and then there’d be hell to pay when Spike inevitably showed up. And he didn’t doubt for one second that Spike would.

From what he’d been able to read between the lines, Spike had no idea of Alric’s whereabouts and Alric had wanted to keep it that way. Knowing Spike like he did, it probably wasn’t sitting very well with the vamp. 

He’d lost precious time respecting Alric’s wishes, and it was only now, months later, that a tiny lead had panned out and he’d finally located the boy. Praying Hakan would remain safe for a little while longer, he’d backtracked to Arizona. 

Now here he stood, praying the woman would agree to come with him. Finally, she nodded, somewhat jerkily, and Angel heaved a sigh of relief. He was one step closer to rescuing Hakan. 

Little did he realize how much his plan was going to backfire. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Bob watched Alric warily as the vampire paced the small confines of the motel room they were staying in. For the first time since being taken into the confidences of the Clan, he felt something akin to fear at being in such close proximity to the vampire. He fervently believed that Alric wouldn’t harm him, but unfortunately, the demon standing before him bore little resemblance to the vampire he’d come to know over the years. 

After Angel had broken into their hotel room, they’d packed up and left the city. A few days later, Alric had gone back to see if the Marabori had given Angel word of Hakan’s whereabouts. Evidently he had, because Alric could find no trace of Angel. 

For two days, Bob had been alone with Tala while Alric had searched – something he’d like to never have happen again while she was in her current state. Without Alric’s presence, Tala hadn’t eaten, no matter how much he tried coaxing her, even when he’d gone so far as to claim her master had ordered it. 

Alric had come back, fit to be tied. First at having lost his one opportunity of finding Hakan, and then because Tala had seemed to slip further away in his absence. As the weeks had passed, with them still no closer to finding some clue as to Hakan’s whereabouts – or even Angel’s, for that matter – Alric had regressed even further. He barely talked anymore, and when he did, it was more of a growl than anything remotely civilized.

In a last ditch effort, Bob had suggested that they return to Whiteriver. Hopefully the presence of Tala’s adoptive grandmother might pull the girl from her almost lifeless existence. Alric had reluctantly agreed, willing to try anything at that point, and they’d gathered their things and driven east towards Arizona. 

“How do you know she’s gone?” Bob asked in answer to Alric’s growled statement. 

“Angel. I could smell him. Faint, but there. He’s taken her.” 

“You sure?” 

“No— yes. I don’t know.” Frustrated, Alric ran a hand through his hair and by sheer will was able to temporarily shake away his demon. Finally, he sat and looked at the human that had remained faithfully by his side. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Bob. Tala, she’s— she’s retreating. Willing herself to die.” 

“Call your sire. Call Spike.” 

“I can’t.” 

“But—” 

“I said I can’t,” Alric snapped. His demon flicked briefly over his features. “You should go back, though. I’ve kept you long enough.” 

“I’m staying with you. You need my help.” 

“Bob—” 

Bob got up, effectively ending the conversation. He tried not to flinch at the growl he heard as he left the room and let himself out of the motel. It was late in the day, almost time for him to get something for him and Tala to eat. He took his time, hopefully allowing Alric’s temper to cool, choosing to walk to the local grocery store as opposed to driving. 

A mistake on his part, because when he arrived back at the motel almost an hour after he’d left, arms laden with two bags of groceries, the motel door stood slightly ajar. 

Bob knew right away that Alric and Tala were gone. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Bob waited a week before calling WT Enterprises in Dallas, one of the front companies of the Clan. He wanted to give Alric time to put as much distance between himself and what Bob was sure to be the entirety of Alric’s family descending upon the area. That he was mentally preparing himself for the confrontation with Spike, he refused to acknowledge. 

He dialed the toll free number and waited a few moments for it to be answered by the receptionist. 

“This is Robert Higgins. Put me through to Mr. Nottingham’s personal assistant.” Nottingham was the fake name Adam used as CEO of the company. 

“Right away, sir.” 

“Mr. Nottingham’s office,” a feminine voice answered on the second ring. 

“Amanda? It’s Bob. I need the jet fueled up and sent to Phoenix. I’m about four hours away.” 

“I’ll call Steve.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Bob—?” 

Bob hung up before Amanda could ask any questions; he didn’t expect to be so lucky once he got to Phoenix. In fact, he was pretty sure there’d be a secure phone with his name on it, and on the other end of the line, Spike.

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