Liaisons - Act 3
Niki followed the vampire affectionately called Snakeface out of the café. He was a few hundred feet ahead of her but in the twilight she could see he was following a slightly disoriented biker chick. The woman was walking with one shoulder against the brick wall and as soon as it ended she found herself on the ground at the entrance to an alleyway. Seconds later, hands were helping her deeper.
Niki broke into a jog to catch up. When she got to the alley entrance, she slowed her footsteps and crept to the edge of the brick. With one confident stride, she stepped out into the open, expecting to see the vamp harassing the girl. The alley was empty.
With a frown she strode into the darkening alley, glancing occasionally behind the dumpsters she passed. She jumped when a door burst open from one of the buildings and a large man exited with two bags of garbage, dumped them in the nearest dumpster then reentered, giving her a suspicious yet dismissive glance.
Niki continued deeper into the alley, her footsteps nearly silent. Six, she counted in her mind, five... four... three... She turned on her heel and faced Snakeface and the biker chick, both sneering at her from behind vampire eyes. The vamp in the black suit looked very annoyed.
“We had a deal,” he hissed, jerking his arm up to show her the silver bracelet. His companion did likewise.
Niki winced and nodded in acknowledgment. “Yeah... about that.” The Slayer shoved her hands into her pockets. “I did some soul searching, and I realized...” she shrugged, “I lied.” She pulled a stake from each pocket and leapt into the air.
As she came at him from above, Snakeface drew a pistol from his suit coat and brought his hands up to take aim. Niki had anticipated this and had leapt for the alley wall, launching herself off of it at shoulder height and spinning in mid air to avoid the bullet. In a flash her foot connected with the gun and it clattered to the ground. She landed in a crouch and finished the twist by sweeping the biker chick’s feet from under her.
Niki leapt to her feet again, her fists up, a stake in each. Snakeface snarled, spreading his arms to embrace her in a deadly bear hug. Without warning, Niki punched him between the eyes. His head snapped back and then came forward again with a confused look.
With a determined glare on her face, Niki caught him with a left hook, then struck him again with her right. When he came back again the snake above his eye was bleeding. With a roar he launched himself at her and she ducked the swing, driving her elbow into the back of his knee.
She then turned her attention to the biker chick who was getting back to her feet. Niki quickly grabbed the woman’s shoulder and thrust the stake in her left hand between the biker’s shoulder blades. She gasped as she fell to the alley floor as dust.
Rough hands took Niki by the arms and spun her around, a violent smack sending the stake in the Slayer’s left hand out into the alley. Niki made a stab with the right one, but the vamp pulled back, then struck her across the face.
Niki felt blood at the corner of her lip and bared her teeth. With a shout she drove her fist under the vamp’s jaw as hard as she could. He seemed as surprised as she when he was thrown up and backwards into the air.
Niki dropped to her knees and slid her right hand and the stake in it forward, pointed up. Snakeface landed horizontally with a surprised grunt, the stake protruding up between his ribs, poking out his expensive suit. He managed to exhale before he disintegrated.
Niki slowly stood, brushing the dust from her knees and walking towards the discarded gun. Piking it up she examined it carefully. She then looked to her own weapon of choice, spinning it expertly between her fingers as if she were a cowboy and then blowing the dust from its tip. She slid it cooly into her pocket and tossed the gun into the nearby dumpster.
Walking with satisfaction from the alley she was suddenly overcome with her earlier vision. Her father had warned her of a betrayal. Had this been the betrayal? But her vision had said he will betray us. She dismissed it. No. It wasn’t her. Maybe it was going to be Snakeface. Not anymore, she mused. Her little self-satisfied smile disappeared as with a rumble of thunder the sky opened up and drenched her with a thin stinging rain.
Matt sat looking very uncomfortable in the deceptively warmly lit living room of the Kilpatrick house. His hands were clasped in his lap and he was very preoccupied wishing he had never been born. And this was a boy who knew the power of wishes.
Logan was sitting across from the boy, his gaze harder than nails, his eyes not as hot as they could be, he admitted. Hot enough to melt butter, he judged... maybe cheese. Metaphorically, of course. Logan hadn’t entertained, even for a second, the idea of telling this kid the truth about him.
Hanna was listening from another room, Logan knew, probably specifically because he had told her not to. He didn’t care. Somewhere he must have offended the divinity which guided the universe: this boy had been invited into his house and Logan had no intention of allowing him to think it was going to be an enjoyable experience.
“Just what are your intentions with my daughter?” Logan said coldly. The lights glinted particularly fiercely off his eyes at that moment.
Matt’s bright blue eyes widened. “I– I, uh... I’m thirteen. I don’t really have... intentions.”
“That’s the right answer,” Logan replied curtly. “Let me lay down some ground rules, just so there’s no misunderstandings in the future. I understand you and my daughter attend the same school. This I cannot be troubled to change, so I will allow you to continue seeing her in that capacity. While you are in my house, however, you will not address her, is that clear?” Without waiting for a response, Logan continued. “If you have anything you need to say to her, you can tell her through me or through my wife. You will address me at all times as Mr. Kilpatrick or sir. My wife you will address as Mrs. Kilpatrick but never ma’am. Is that clear?” Again without a pause for a reply, Logan went on. “To avoid confusion, I am not Mr. Patrick. Mr. Patrick was my neighbor. He’s dead now. I am Mr. Kilpatrick. Understood?” Logan took a deep breath and doggedly continued. “If there is an earthquake or some form of volcanic eruption and you are accidentally thrown against my daughter, you have the freedom to say ‘Excuse me Miss Kilpatrick.’ Otherwise you are not to touch my daughter in any way in my presence. If you want to make a good impression on me, you will avoid making eye contact with her.” He finally paused for a good three seconds. “Is that understood?”
Matt licked his lips and nodded. “Yes, sir, Mr. Kilpatrick.”
“Any questions?” Logan asked, his tone implying none were welcome.
But Matt was brave. “A- actually yes. I- uh, I was wondering...” He seemed to reconsider the question, then found some new stock of bravado and pressed on. “Are you really, like, magic?”
Logan slowly tiled his head to one side. He took a deep breath as if he had actually considered his response. “Is that what my daughter told you?”
Matt nodded, wide eyed.
Logan’s eyes shifted back and forth for a moment, then he leaned in conspiratorially. “Can you keep a secret?”
Matt nodded again, vigorously.
Logan, now that he had Matt’s undivided attention, leaned in ever closer, taking a breath as if he was going to divulge a terribly important secret. “No.”
There was a moment of uncertainty, then Matt sagged in slight disappointment. “Oh.”
Logan nodded. “No, I’m not magic. And that’s the secret you’re going to have to keep, because if my daughter has staked her reputation on this story, you are not going to do anything to undermine it, are you?” The boy shook his head. “You damage her social status, I damage your kneecaps. You make her cry, I make you cry.” Logan’s eyes narrowed to a glare, “got it?”
Matt nodded and swallowed. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all...
Logan stood and extended a rigid hand. Matt jumped to his feet and took the hand that was offered, clenching as hard as he could. As he shook it, he could swear there was an electric charge which seared his hand. The lights dimmed for an instant and the sky rumbled with thunder. As the lights dimmed again, the fierce glint in Logan’s eyes remained hot and constant.
Matt’s eyes were wide as he looked around, nervously. “Are... are you sure you’re not—”
“Good to meet you,” Logan said with finality. He released the hand and stalked from the room, the sky grumbling with distant menace.
Matt slowly sat down, massaging his hand. After the lights stabilized again, Hanna hurried into the room, plunking down into the couch beside him. “He said good to meet you,” she said optimistically. “I think he likes you!”
Matt slowly turned to look at her, incredulity on his face, as if to ask are you insane?
Hanna shrugged, pulling his hand into hers. “What?” Lightning seared through the night sky with a roar.
It was still drizzling when the cool and constant glow of morning found New York with Niki wandering the wet streets. She knew Addison wanted her to meet him at the warehouse, but something was bugging her.
Jesse Trent. There was something about him. Something she couldn’t put her finger on. She walked seemingly aimlessly away from her apartment, exactly not towards the warehouse, but only when she looked over to see the alley in which she had killed Snakeface last night did she realize she was only a block away from Trent’s, the café.
With a determined frown, she continued towards it, positive there was something wrong with the entire Jesse Trent situation.
August 20th, 1981
Niki sat across from Jimmy in the little café, her coffee untouched. “Are you serious?” she asked with elation.
The young man nodded, his eye contact unwavering. It was clear he was interested in more than her skills as a drummer, but she could handle that. “We need a new drummer anyway. Gretchen’s not good for our image. She’s a total Valley Girl.”
“And yet she hides it behind a getup that screams hamburglar.” Niki shook her head.
“I know, it’s creepy.” Jimmy leaned back in his chair as an older man approached their table.
“Can I get you young people anything else?” He was obviously anxious for them to leave, the two of them being worse for his image than a Valley Girl for Toe Tag City.
“No thanks, Mr. Trent,” Jimmy slipped the folded bills directly into the old man’s breast pocket. “We were just leaving anyway.”
Niki couldn’t hide the smile. A drummer in an actual band!
Niki set her jaw and walked angrily to the counter of café where Jesse was writing something on a notepad. He looked up with a surprised and delighted expression which immediately dissolved upon contact with her own.
“Who are you?” she demanded. One or two customers looked up from their coffees at her raised voice.
Jesse gave them a glance, then took the Slayer’s arm and led her further into the front corner of the café, away from occupied tables. “Sorry?”
“Mr. Trent,” Niki said deliberately, “is in his sixties. Who are you and what do you want with me?”
Jesse nodded patiently. “Ian Forster Trent was my father. He died two years ago. I took over the business. As to what I want with you...” he raised an amused eyebrow and shrugged.
Niki’s eyes fell. Oh. “Uh... sorry about your dad,” she managed at last.
Jesse nodded. “Yeah... Maybe if he’d said one word to me the last twelve years of his life then I’d be sorry too. But if you’re offering to have coffee with me as consolation, then I can be very distraught.”
Niki managed a little smile. She looked up and he was holding an adorable look of hopefulness. Finally she rolled her eyes and sighed. “Yeah, sure. I’ve got no plans anyway.”
Jesse grinned widely. He led them to an isolated booth. “Well,” he said with a crease in his brow, “you’ve got my whole family history, I think it’s fair if you at least tell me your name.”
Niki looked at him for a long moment, examining his every feature, everything that he could possibly be thinking. Somehow her normal Slayer instincts were clouded when she looked at him. “Niki,” she said at last, breaking the gaze and wiping her damp palms on her jeans. She realized with chagrin what the feeling was. It had been so long that she hadn’t immediately identified the beginnings of simple lust. “Niki Valtaine,” she avoided eye contact which made him smile.
“Niki Valtaine,” he said with a smile that was nearly a laugh. “Pleased to meet you.”
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