For Love of a Wolf: Alric's Story
by SpikesKat
Chapter 9
Alric roared in pain, but it was drowned out by the girl’s scream.
The dagger buried in his chest hurt… a lot. But not to the extent he made it out to be. Heck, his sire had been known to – and had on many occasions – deliver blows much harsher. So, too, had the Ronin warrior that had taught the Clan the way of the samurai.
Alric wanted the vampire to think he was hurt far worse than he actually was. It would give him a decided edge. Though having sized up the other demon at a quick glance, he really wasn’t going to need much in the way of an advantage. His opponent may have had a few years under his belt, not more than fifty by his estimation, but he was allowing his anger to guide his movements. And his assumption that Alric was easy pickings just because he was visibly hurt was going to be his downfall.
As he drew near, his hand now carrying a short stake, Alric braced himself, and at the last second, pulled the dagger free with his right hand and easily deflected the short piece of wood aimed at his heart. The other vampire’s eyes widened in shock, and maybe a touch of fear, as he overshot his mark and was drawn further into the bedroom and Alric couldn’t help the grin that stole across his face.
“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” Alric taunted in crisp English, having swiveled around to face the vampire, ignoring the blood that flowed freely from the gaping wound in his chest. “The girl is mine, and I protect what belongs to me,” he added with menace, his voice now deceptively low.
Faster than the eye could see, Alric closed the distance between him and the other vampire, and with his hand fisted around the hilt of the dagger, delivered an uppercut that sent the demon’s head rocking back. Then using the same hand, he drove the tip of the blade straight through his throat so hard that the point was visible at the back of his neck. It didn’t kill him, the dagger was fashioned out of steel after all, and he’d yet to sever the vampire’s head, but it did slice through his vocal cords, rendering him unable to cry out in pain. The vampire’s hands frantically grasped for the hilt as he fell to his knees in front of him, but it was wedged in good and tight; it wasn’t coming out anytime soon.
The door to his suite was thrust open a second after Alric sensed Bob racing down the hallway towards him. Standing in the open doorway to his bedroom, Alric smirked at the gun his employee held. Bob, having assessed at a glance that his boss had things well in hand, shut the door and sauntered through the living area towards the bedroom.
“What?” the chauffeur grinned sheepishly, holstering his weapon back in the shoulder harness tucked secreted beneath his jacket. “The boy said ‘man.’ How was I supposed to know it was a vampire that came to pay you a visit?” He walked over to his boss and looked at the demon now writhing on his back, getting blood all over the light beige carpet. “He’s making a mess all over the floor. We’re gonna have to pay for that. Blood won’t come out of the carpet no matter how much hydrogen peroxide you use beforehand. Shoulda just dusted him… ” He looked at Alric, then briefly at the girl staring at them with wide-eyed shock from her place upon the bed. “Why didn’t you anyway?” he asked, returning his attention to his boss.
Alric quirked his brow.
“He thought he could take what was mine. Apparently he wasn’t paying attention at the show. Seems another demonstration is in order.”
Bob snorted, but automatically moved off towards the closet to retrieve the chest that held magically enhanced chains – among a few other things – as Alric bent down and dragged the vampire from the bedroom.
“More like showin’ off…” he muttered under his breath, though there was a smile in his voice.
“I heard that!”
“Well, duh!”
“Tell me again why we haven’t fired you yet,” Alric asked once Bob joined him in the living room.
“Because you’d never be able to find anyone else willing to do my job? Not to mention I’m good at what I do.”
“Uh huh…” Alric’s tone was doubtful, though the human’s words bore a ring of truth, and he wondered if Bob might be a descendant of one of the families that used to serve the Aurelian vampires.
“It’s true. I’m indispensable. Here… ” Bob handed over the chain links. “One set of magically enhanced manacles.”
Bob’s announcement got the downed vampire’s attention, and he stopped his struggles with the dagger still firmly embedded in his throat to look at Alric and the human standing next to him. He couldn’t speak to demand what they were going to do with him now, could only watch helplessly as the vampire took the chains and moved closer.
“You made a fatal mistake coming here, the first being that you could take on a vampire of my caliber,” Alric spoke conversationally as he knelt beside the trembling vampire. “I’ve got over a hundred years on you – which you should have realized back at the club – and I’ve not spent that time languishing in the gutters.” His hand closed around the hilt of the dagger and he yanked it out of the vampire’s throat, tossing it carelessly onto the wooden coffee table next to him. Blood oozed from the gaping wound, but Alric ignored it and flipped the vampire over and clamped each manacle around his wrists and opposing ankles, leaving him to lie on his stomach, arms stretched behind him at an unnatural angle, his feet right along with them.
“Sit tight,” Alric told the demon, condescendingly patting him on the head as he stood.
Bob’s cell phone rang as Alric started towards the bedroom to check on the girl; she’d not made a peep since that first scream, although her heart was still beating overtime – and ringing in his ears – and he wanted to make sure that she was alright.
“He’s fine,” Bob was saying, and Alric barely repressed an eye roll as he guessed at the identity of the caller. He changed directions and snatched the phone out of his hand.
“I’m fine…” Mid-conversation, the two vampires immediately reverted to the language they’d long since adopted as their own. “No… I said I’m fine, Adam. Dammit! The day I can’t take… Look. Come to London like you planned, I’ll meet you and you’ll see for yourself— No! We can’t risk you coming here— then put her on the phone and I’ll tell her,” he growled into the receiver.
“Alric?” Buffy’s frantic voice came over the line a second later.
“I’m fine, sweets. Just a tiny flesh wound so quit your worrying.”
“Is it dead yet?”
Alric didn’t pretend to misunderstand. The Slayer was usually the voice of reason among the clan, she being the human of the bunch. At least she was until it came to one of her own being hurt. Then she and his sire seemed to do a complete role reversal, and it was Spike trying to get Buffy to calm down and see things rationally.
“No, but he soon will be.”
“Make sure it hurts.”
Alric grinned. “Feisty little thing, aren’t you?”
“No one messes with what’s mine.”
With as much as he knew his place among the clan, Alric never got tired of hearing it said, how he belonged. To cover the tightness that had settled in the region of his heart, he teased the Slayer a bit. “I’m sure my sire will have a thing or two to say about that.”
“You know what I mean, you ass.”
“I’m here bleeding from a hole in my shoulder and you’re calling me names. You wound me, love.”
“Now I know you’re okay. You are okay? Right, Alric?”
“I’m fine. I’ll present myself for your inspection tomorrow. Satisfied? Right now, I’ve got some things to take care of…”
“Don’t disappoint me…”
He snorted. “You’re as bad as my sire. Like some random vamp has what it takes to do me in.”
“Speaking of Spike, he wants to talk to you too.”
“Would you just tell him I’m fine? Sheesh! I’m not some bloody fledge!” he ground out.
“No, you’re not. But you are the baby of the bunch.” And with that parting shot, she turned the phone over to Spike.
The conversation with Spike was short and to the point, his sire asking him what had happened, to which he’d fudged a bit on the details, saying only that some vamp from the show had taken issue with him. He wasn’t ready to reveal Tala to the others, especially his sire. And thankfully, him having claimed her wouldn’t have registered on Spike’s “sire” radar.
Unless he made the mistake of having her amongst them – much like the moment they’d encountered the Slayer for the first time and known in an instant that she’d belonged to Spike.
Alric was hoping to keep Tala and the clan separated, at least for now. Maybe once he could put a more definitive label to his relationship with the girl, he’d bring her before the clan. Right now he was still reeling from the fact that he’d even claimed her as his own in the first place.
He finally rang off and pierced Bob with a look. The human met his stare without flinching.
“I’ll tell him soon. Just… not now…” Alric finally told him.
“Uh huh. Look, it’s not my place to say anything, but I won’t lie to your sire, just so you know.”
“I know…” He sighed and glanced over his shoulder to stare at the open doorway leading to the bedroom.
“Still need me to get that room?” Bob asked, seeing the direction of the vampire’s gaze and the wistful look upon his face.
“No. We’ve gotta take out the trash.”
“I’ll bring the car round then. You… uh… might want to put some clothes on first though. Don’t think the hotel staff would take to you parading around in the altogether in their hotel. At least the public portions anyway. And while you’re at it, maybe see to that wound of yours?”
Alric glanced down, having forgotten completely that he’d just stepped out of the shower when the other vamp had broken into his hotel room; the towel that he’d wrapped around his hips earlier had fallen away at some point in their brief struggle. He shrugged and turned away, heading back to the bedroom.
While he was dressing, he could check on the condition of his girl.
~*~*~*~*~
Tala really should have been scared at both the ease with which her new master took out the thing trying to kill him and the brutality of his attack. Part of the reason she wasn’t was because she’d been desensitized to such violent acts thanks to her capture and subsequent enslavement at the hands of Glarshnic. The slaver had a penchant for violence that she’d been witness to time and again. The other reason she wasn’t quivering in fear and screaming at the top of her lung was thanks to her Indian heritage, and how her tribe had lauded its warriors of old – stories that had been passed down from generation to generation with pride. As a child, it was often the only way her parents could get her to sleep at night. After they’d died, the responsibility had fallen to her and she’d been the one to lull Hakan back to sleep when the nightmares inevitably came.
Her master was a warrior, she thought with a hint of pride. In another life, he would have been someone she would have been proud to introduce to her family – what remained of them. They would have seen his warrior spirit and welcomed him into the fold without question.
Tala watched with impassioned eyes as the thing that had meant to harm her master was dragged from the room like so much garbage. She gave a brief thought as to his fate, but knew he wouldn’t be alive for very long. Her owner had been more than willing to take the head of the demon that had dared touch her while they were still inside the slave show, and probably would have if he’d not been stopped by the show’s hosts. An attempt on his life with the intent to steal his property had guaranteed the demon’s death sentence.
The only question was whether or not it would be taken care of within the walls of their suite.
Since she’d not been given permission to leave the bed, Tala remained where she was. She heard metal shackles clanking together right before a phone rang. The man – Bob – spoke for a few minutes before he was abruptly cut off. Then it was his voice she heard – just a few words in English and then that abrupt switch to something else. She gave up trying to eavesdrop, knowing it would do no good and would only result in her getting a headache from trying to decipher the various languages he seemed to be speaking in.
Besides which, it didn’t really matter what he said. It wasn’t like the information would be useful to her.
Her mind started to wander and so missed hearing her master hang up and begin to speak with Bob. It wasn’t until he’d walked into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed that she registered his presence.
“Are you alright?”
The soothing baritone and soft caress of his hand against her cheek brought her back to the present. Tala lifted her head and could easily see the concern apparent in his gaze. She smiled softly and nodded.
“Yes, master,” she murmured.
A frown stole across his features and was gone the next instant, and she wondered briefly if she’d been mistaken in seeing it. He was speaking then and she forgot about it as she concentrated on what he was saying.
“I’ve got to go out for a little while. You’ll be safe here until I get back.”
“But… you’re hurt!”
“It’s nothing. Just a minor flesh wound. It’ll heal soon enough. Come now…”
He motioned for her to get under the covers and she quickly complied, feeling oddly cherished as he tucked her into bed. When he stood, her eyes tracked him about the bedroom as he first grabbed a towel and cleaned off the blood on his pale chest before dropping the soiled towel on the floor just inside the bathroom. Then he was back, opening drawers and grabbing clothes. She watched as he dressed hurriedly all in black, finally sitting on one of the chairs to pull on a pair of matching rugged work boots.
Like he was gearing up for battle.
Then he was back at her side and sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Get some sleep,” he murmured as he leaned down and brushed his lips across her brow. “I’ll be back soon.”
Tala sighed happily and snuggled into the covers. Another kiss, this time to her lips, and he was gone, walking from the room with angry, ground-eating strides, having already adopted his vengeful warrior persona. She smiled and closed her eyes and was nearly asleep when the door to the suite opened and closed, signaling her master’s departure.
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