Gratitude: Part II - Act 1
Almost as soon as the light show started, Hanna found the courage to open her eyes. She didn’t close them again all that night.
With a fearsome look overcoming him, Logan swept his arms to either side, releasing the attack upon the creatures that dared frighten the most precious thing in his life. The force made his fingers bleed, his tendons and veins standing out on his wrists. The vamps caught in the torrent were swept away in clouds of glowing ash.
Logan took the opportunity to clutch his daughter’s head tighter to his chest with one bleeding hand while striking out with an invisible fist at the confused and enraged vamps.
The vamp who had torn her pajamas made a rush towards Hanna, convinced he could still score some cherished blood from this encounter. In motion like a choreographed dance, Logan’s hand was at the vamp’s throat even as the creature’s hand was on Hanna’s sleeve. The burning of the man’s hand in an instant melted through the vamp’s undead flesh and dropped him into a pile of dust.
The rest of the gang, getting up with confusion and bitterness, scrambled away into the night. Logan let them go, knowing he had other responsibilities tonight above chasing down and killing these monsters.
Hanna, wide eyed and trembling, stared at the pile of dust which had been her attacker. His hand had been solid and real on her arm a moment ago. Now it was not. Her gaze didn’t budge until she felt oddly warm hands on her cheeks, tilting her head up.
Logan stared down at his beloved with an intensity that only increased as he took in her fear. She was afraid of him. He felt the blood between his fingers leaving marks on her face. His fingernails burned like they had been dipped in acid and his head throbbed. Yet he had never felt so alive.
“Honey,” Logan Kilpatrick said gently, softening his eyes for her benefit, “what were you doing outside?”
Her lips were trembling, her eyes locked with his. “Sl- sleep– sleep w- wa–”
“Sleep walking?” She nodded vigorously. He sighed and cocked his head with resignation. There were stranger things that could get you eaten. He took his hands from her cheeks and wiped them on his pajama top. “Hanna, baby,” he got down on one knee on the dew soaked grass and took both her hands in his. “Sweetie, can you keep a secret from mom?”
Niki stood in the early morning hours at the front entrance to John F. Kennedy International Airport. Whistler stood nearby, neither of them making eye contact. They would never find the bracelet peddler inside, especially with the sword tucked inside Niki’s jacket, but once the hour got late enough, the vamp would have to leave his post to sleep for the day. Then he would take them to his lair - maybe to his gang. It would have to be before sunrise.
Watching the entrance, Niki pretended to read a newspaper. Shares Plunge After Wall Street Crash, read the headline. Whistler was looking very interested in his shoes. Niki glanced at the doors then back to the paper. San Francisco: Earthquake Kills Nine. What a depressing world, she thought, no wonder I don’t read the paper.
Then the scent of vampire caught her attention. Without looking at the door, she met Whistler’s glance. He gave the most imperceptible nod and after several heartbeats, Niki folded the newspaper of depression neatly in half and stuffed it into her jacket. She turned and started after the creature Whistler had identified, a vampire wearing a brown trench coat and carrying a small canvas suitcase. He could easily have been peddling watches, she shook her head. No, he was selling something much more valuable. He was selling immunity.
She followed him out to the street where he hailed a cab and Niki was forced to watch as he sped away. But their cab was still idling and the driver was getting paid a bonus tonight. They were soon in pursuit.
Mere seconds after the first pursuit began, a second continued. A black Lincoln Towncar pulled back into traffic, its headlights disconnected and its driver staring fixedly at the occupants of the taxi just ahead.
Hanna’s mouth hung open, her face streaked with her father’s blood. “You’re... like a wizard or something?” When he couldn’t think of a response in time, a broad grin spread across her face. “That’s awsome!”
“You cannot tell your mother, understand?” He held her shoulders tightly. Her fear had been all but forgotten.
“And those were... vampires? Real vampires?” Her eyes lit up. “That is so cool!” Her eyes shifted back and forth, considering the ramifications to her struggling social status. “Kirsty is not going to believe this...” Then the realization dawned on her and she frowned. “She really isn’t going to believe this, is she?”
“Hanna,” Logan gripped her shoulders tighter and gave her a little shake to bring her attention back to him. “You can’t tell anyone, understand? Not Kirsty, not mom, nobody. Got it?” When she looked reluctant to accept his admittedly one-sided terms, he waved a bloodied hand before her eyes and just a spark leapt between his index and middle fingers. “You don’t want to anger a wizard, do you?” Hanna shook her head at once, straightening up, following his hand with her eyes. Logan nodded, satisfied. “Good, now go inside and wash up before going back to bed. No reason to give your mother a heart attack.”
The thirteen year old ran inside, leaving her father kneeling in the wet grass.
So, he breathed, the life had come after him. He had left it behind and it had come after him and his own. He knew it was stupid to think heros were exempt from hardship, but he had hoped Hanna would never need to know the realities of the world around her, especially where those realities applied to her father. But she was thirteen now, no longer the ten year old she had been when this had started.
These thoughts troubled the man who knelt in the dew that night. How could he be so cavalier about this? Dammit, his daughter had nearly been killed by vampires on his own lawn! Where the hell was the Vampire Slayer? Why wasn’t she doing her job?
Maybe he had made the wrong choice leaving her. Hanna and Rachel had been safe when he was still practicing... when he was still with her. Certainly the marriage had taken a beating, but they had remained at least ignorant of what sort of mortal danger he had been in almost every night of his life. Now he had recommitted himself to his family and danger chose this moment to come to him.
But dammit, this wasn’t his job! He’d just been dragged into it! He hadn’t asked to fight vampires – well, no that was a lie. He had asked to help Niki. She had seemed so vulnerable and scared, faced all of a sudden with a world alone, a world of enemies. She had accepted his help, perhaps rightfully without a thought to his needs. But that was years ago. She was an adult now. A Slayer. She should be handling all this.
The scent filled his head. Vampire. They had sensed that he was down and were coming back for him. Hanna was safely in the house and they were not invited in...
Logan slowly stood as the forms emerged from the darkness around him. They were wary, some of them having seen his power. Others were there just for entertainment. Logan wiped the blood from his sore hands on his pajama bottoms and tried to build some kind of charge between his fingers. But he just wasn’t feeling it. The vampires’ faces changed.
Logan looked about at the slowly constricting net of creatures which surrounded him. He felt a bit light headed.
Suddenly there was the pounding of feet on concrete. One by one the heads turned as a vampire charged down the inky black street toward them, his brown trench coat fluttering open behind him. He dropped something heavy on the street and it broke open. He left it without a backward glance, heading for the safety of the vampire crowd.
Logan frowned. Then he saw her. Racing fast and lithe, Niki rounded the corner from where the car chase had ended and towards the fleeing target. The crowd of vamps saw her coming, took one look at the vamp she was chasing and scattered.
A broad grin spread across Logan’s face. “Ha!” he shouted after them, throwing his now powerless fists in their direction. “That’s right! Run like the little sissies you are!”
Niki launched herself and caught the fleeing vamp in the trench coat by the legs, bringing him down to the wet grass ten feet from Logan’s lawn. Logan strolled up in the light of a street lamp as Niki was beating the non-living crap out of him.
“Where did you get them?” she demanded, her fists striking his face like clockwork. “Who gave them to you?” Thwack, thwack. “Who made them?”
“I- don’t– nobody!” the vamp begged. Without a thought, she drew the short sword concealed down her back and drove it into his chest, all the way to the hilt, effectively pinning him to the soft ground. The vamp let out a cry of agony which was cut short as Niki clamped a hand around his throat.
“Tell me or I start cutting pieces off,” she hissed, jerking the blade for emphasis. He whimpered and Logan nodded with appreciation. Niki had certainly become more... committed since last he saw her.
“Who made what?” Logan inquired, content to observe no longer.
Niki’s glance jerked up with such suddenness there was an audible crack. “Logan!” she cried with delight, standing up, the vampire forgotten. Her eyes narrowed, then softened, then her entire physique acquired a confused air. She looked around; at the house, the street, the lamppost. “Is this Freeport?”
He nodded. “Good to see you again.”
She wanted to hug him. Wanted to kiss him. Wanted to do... things to him. But he wasn’t hers anymore. She had beaten that addiction. Slaying was her addiction now. Victory. “Good to see you too,” she nodded, her voice quieter.
“Why you chasing him?” Logan nodded towards the vamp who had unpinned himself and was making a mad dash for the darkness offered by a patch of trees.
“Oh- shit,” Niki cursed, quickly pulling a stake from her pocket and throwing it like a dagger. With a gasp the vampire took the stake through the back of the heart, collapsing into dust on someone’s lawn.
The Slayer sighed. “I was trying to figure out where he was getting his merchandise,” she shrugged. “He won’t be talking now.”
“Merchandise?” Logan pressed, crossing his arms in the cool night air.
Niki clenched and unclenched her jaw as she considered telling him, then decided against it. He had opted out of the crew after the cover at Atlantic Avenue had left him drained for days. There was no blame in it - business had been slow anyway. No need to drag him into it now.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” Logan nodded, knowingly. “It’s okay. I understand.” Niki swallowed and after a brief pause stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. Logan rested his head on hers. “I’ve missed you too.”
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