Son of a King
When women begin showing up dead all across Toronto with distinctive puncture wounds on their necks, Vicki Nelson, PI, is on the job – along with her 450-year-old vampire partner. But if he’s not behind the attacks – who is? A strange, young couple new to the city could hold the key to discovering the truth. Handling two kinds of vampires was hard enough. Just how many different sorts were there? Second story in the “Different Sorts” series FINAL CHAPTER -- NOW POSTED!
ATTENTION READERS: DO NOT STEAL MY STORIES. Someone has stolen some of my stories from this website and posted them as their own on fanfiction.net. It is plaigarism, it is stealing and it is illegal. Read, enjoy -- but don't steal. Second story in the “Different Sorts” series -- takes place after "Different Sorts." Crossover with Buffy and the new “Blood Ties” series on Lifetime. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
4. Chapter 4
Rating 4/5 Word Count 1998 Review this Chapter
* * *
In the hours before dawn – as Edward, Bella and the others met for the first time – another creature lurked in the streets of Toronto. He watched the hookers peddling their bodies on the street corners – calling to men, leaning into cars. Some of them, getting in and speeding away. Others taking their customers into the club, or across the street to the motel. Some just went down the alley for fifteen minutes and came back with cash in hand.
He was choosing tonight’s prey. Not just any would do – no, he was quite particular. But when he saw her – the petite, blonde one with the loud mouth, hollering across the street to get attention – he knew she was the one.
He walked from the shadows, crossing the street towards her. He was well dressed for the neighborhood, in his suit and tie, but he blended in with the other Johns.
“Hello,” he said, to the blonde one. “I believe this should be adequate for what I’d like to do tonight.” He held up a stack of hundred dollar bills. There was easily two grand there.
The hooker’s eyes got wide. “Okay, mister,” she said. Then she composed herself. “But no funny business.”
She grabbed his hand and began dragging him towards the motel.
“Okay,” he agreed, “no funny business.”
* * *
Mike escorted Vicki back home after dropping Henry off at his apartment. Vicki insisted it wasn’t necessary, but Mike wouldn’t be persuaded to leave her until he’d seen her safely home. All these vampires and vampire slayers were getting to him … there was only so much he could handle. He was a homicide cop, after all. He could handle murderers – but the supernatural? That just threw him for a loop – every single time. And he should be getting used to it by now. Ever since Vicki had met Henry … he sighed, as he watched Vicki turn the key in her lock.
“Okay, I’m home,” she said. “Bye.”
She stepped inside and started to shut the door – when Mike’s hand got in the way. “Vicki, I’m only looking out for you.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said. “And I’ve told you how many times – I can look after myself.”
Mike sighed again. “Vicki, I just care about you, that’s all. Is that a crime?”
“Mike …” She let out a long breath. “I know you don’t like this business with Henry – but I’ve told you, he’s a good person. And I think he’s proven enough times, that he, too, has my best interests at heart. You have to let it go. Especially with these new ones in town …”
“You trust them already?”
“They’ve got a Slayer on their side, don’t they?”
“And what do you know about a Slayer?” Mike scoffed.
Vicki rolled her eyes. “Good-bye, Mike. I’m getting some sleep. I suggest you do the same.”
Vicki forcibly removed Mike’s hand from her door, then closed and locked it.
Mike sighed again as he walked back down to the street. He really was tired. He was in his car, halfway home and thinking of his bed, when the trilling of his cell phone broke his reverie.
“This is Celucci.” He listened intently, forcing himself to attention. “Got it. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
So much for sleep …
* * *
That evening, feeling amazingly well-rested, Vicki met up with Henry and returned to Bella and Edward’s apartment. Buffy let them in when they knocked.
“Come on in,” she said. “Bella and Edward are just rounding up the weapons they’ve got. Angel – my boyfriend – he’s bringing up some of our stash in the car. He’s driving up, since the weapons wouldn’t make it through security at the airport.”
“Where’s he coming from?” Vicki asked, as Henry stalked past them into the living room. He was still moody from last night. He didn’t like not being the only vampire.
“DC,” Buffy replied. “It’s not too bad of a drive. He should be here soon. And Spike’s flying in from Seattle. He’ll be here after dark – vampire.”
“You have a lot of vampire friends for being a vampire Slayer,” Vicki mused.
Buffy shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for the undead … at least, the ones with souls. You know, the good ones. I have no problem killing the bad ones.”
“Your boyfriend – Angel? He’s not a vampire, too … is he?”
Buffy laughed. “No, not anymore.”
“Uh, long story,” Buffy said. “Short version? Angel was a vampire, got a soul – lost his soul, got it back, then fought this big demon war in Los Angeles and became a champion.”
“Basically, human but with some perks – like super strength and an uncanny ability to sense the presence of vampires and demons.”
“Oh,” said Vicki. “So you started dating him after the whole champion thing?”
“Yeah,” said Buffy. “But we also kind of had an on-again, off-again thing for awhile when he was still a vampire. I was still in high school at the time.”
“A Slayer and a vampire – in love? It’s kind of poetic, isn’t it?”
Buffy laughed. “It is, huh? I had a fling with Spike once, too, just so you know. And I’m only mentioning it because when he and Angel are in the same room together, they always get super competitive and jealous and snipey.”
“Oh,” Vicki said, “kind of like Henry and Mike.” She explained her past with Mike and her very murky relationship with the son of the king. Buffy understood completely.
* * *
Angel arrived about twenty minutes later, lugging a large bag of stakes, crossbows, swords and other assorted weaponry with him. He was overjoyed to see Bella and Edward again – and was happy to meet Vicki. But he stiffened when he saw Henry.
“Buffy,” he said, cautious. “More vampires?”
She rolled her eyes. “God, Angel, get over it. He’s one of the good ones. I don’t hang out with the bad ones – you know that.”
He turned to her. “Do I have to remind you about Spike?”
“He’s got a soul!”
“He didn’t always have a soul – not when you first started … doing whatever it was you did … in his crypt. In Sunnydale!”
“Are you ever going to let me live that down?” She said, crossing her arms. “And besides, I’d just died, remember? I was still feeling all … icky about the world, anyway.”
“Oh, right, like being dead is a good excuse …” Angel was pouting again.
Buffy sighed. “Angel.” It was her commanding voice – her Slayer voice. He let out a deep breath and then met her gaze. “Angel, this is Henry – he’s going to help us track down our killer vampire. Henry’s the son of a king – Henry the Eighth.”
“Oh, you didn’t say he was British, too? And royalty?! Buffy, come on!” He was pouting again.
“And what’s wrong with that?” Henry said, standing up. He was tired of being talked about as if he weren’t there. If Angel were going to pout, then Henry no longer would.
“Oh, nothing, just what you and your kings did to my people.”
“The Irish!” Angel and Henry instantly launched into a very loud argument about the Irish and the British.
“Oh, don’t tell me he’s on about the Irish again?” It was a lilting, British voice from the doorway that happily distracted Buffy and Vicki from the brewing argument between Angel and Henry.
“Spike,” Buffy said. She met him with a warm hug at the door. “How was the flight?”
“Oh, same old, same old – hiding under a blanket for most of it – till we got far enough east that the sun was down. What are they on about then?” he asked, motioning towards Angel and Henry. They were shouting at each other, without giving the other a chance to respond – so their voices mingled together into one loud, angry, incomprehensible noise. They were so involved in their argument that neither had even noticed Spike’s arrival.
“Oh,” Buffy groaned, “that.” She sighed. “You know Angel sometimes can be … jealous.”
“Angel? Jealous?” Spike said sarcastically.
“Yeah, well – first he was upset that Henry was a vampire – he thinks I’m too friendly with too many vampires. First him, then you, then Bella and Edward – now Henry. And then he found out that Henry is the son of Henry the Eighth – the king of England.”
“Oh, well of course he’s pissed,” Spike said. “Why do you think he and I fight all the time? He’s Irish – I’m British. It’s nature, love.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Not you, too.” She sighed again, then motioned to Vicki. “By the way, this is Vicki. She’s helping us.”
“Pleasure, love,” Spike said.
“What the hell is going on in here?” came another voice from the open doorway. It was Mike.
“And who the hell are you?” said Spike, blocking his way.
Mike stared at him, then looked past him into the apartment, where Angel and Henry were now shoving each other as each made a new point in their argument. He spotted Vicki and Buffy, meeting their amused expressions. “Vicki, who the hell is this Billy Idol wannabe – and why won’t he let me in?” He motioned towards Spike.
“Spike, it’s okay,” Buffy said, pulling him away so that Mike could come in. She shut the door behind him, since everyone had finally arrived. “Spike, this is Detective Celucci – Mike is also helping us out.”
“Oh,” he said. “Pleasure to meet you. And Billy Idol got his look from me – not the other way around.”
“You’re a bit young to have inspired Billy Idol,” Mike said.
Spike laughed. “Thanks – but I’m older than I look.” He leered.
“Oh, not another vampire,” Mike groaned, turning to Vicki. She nodded, confirming his suspicions. He spied Angel and Henry arguing in the living room. “Him, too?” He meant Angel.
“No,” Buffy said, sensing the detective’s unease. “Not anymore.”
“Uh, never mind.”
“… and that’s why you’re all bloody pigs!” Angel yelled, thrusting his finger into Henry’s chest.
“You dog, I’m the son of the king.”
“The bastard son!”
“Angel,” Buffy said, gently, tugging on his arm. “Angel, it’s been a few centuries – time to let the past alone. Okay?”
He was still fuming, breathing heavily, but he looked down at her. Just seeing her calmed him down again.
With everyone present, Bella and Edward joined them again in the living room – having laid out and organized the weapons on the dining table. Final introductions were made and they settled down. Buffy and Edward carried a stack of maps and papers to the coffee table and spread them out. The plans.
“We think we’ve got a nest of vampires,” Buffy said. “We’re not sure which kinds we’re dealing with just yet – but they’re a nasty bunch.”
“They’re getting nastier,” said Mike. Everyone turned to look at him. He pulled a new folder from his briefcase and plopped it down on top of the maps and papers that Buffy and Edward had marked up earlier that day. He flipped open the file and spread out the stack of glossy, black and white photos – pictures from the latest crime scene. The others looked on, taking in the image of the blonde hooker – her body twisted, naked and bloody. The fang marks on her neck were inimitable. The mood instantly sobered.
Buffy was the first to compose herself – she was no homicide detective, but she’d seen and dealt with a lot worse. She’d lived on the Hellmouth for seven years, after all.
“All the more reason to act sooner – rather than later,” she said. “Here’s the plan …”
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- Kayla Ariev
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