Chapter 3

WOLFRAM & HART – Los Angeles

Angel hung up the phone, the barest hint of a grin on his lips. Although things hadn’t gone like he’d predicted in London, the situation had turned out better than he’d hoped. Thumbing through his Rolodex, he dialed the number of Rupert’s mobile.

”Rupert Giles.”

“It’s Angel. You’re free to return to London whenever you want. He’s on his way to Rome and won’t be returning to England anytime soon.”

”How did that come to be?”

“He killed Rodney Hedrick.” Angel waited to see if that name rang a bell.

”Good Lord – He killed the Master of London?”

“That he did. And if he returns he’ll have to fight anyone who challenges him for the title. He’s not going to want to do that. It’s probably the safest place for you to take the girls,” Angel appealed to the fatherly aspect in the Watcher. “But what you really need to know is that Spike pledged his fealty to Hedrick before he dusted him. You may draw your own conclusions about that.” The vampire knew Giles would automatically assume the worst of Spike, and he might be right. After all, what souled vampire in his right mind would give away power like that?

”Yes, well…”Giles stammered. ”I suppose we should make our way back there, then. I appreciate you keeping us informed.” Rupert could simply not bring himself to thank Angel for anything, let alone this kind of information, but he was helping, so he tried to be polite.

“I’ll keep in touch then, Giles.” They disconnected the call, and Angel checked his calendar. Having his contact speak with Hedrick had worked in his favor, and now he wanted to plant some surprises in Rome. Sighing heavily when he saw the meeting with the warring Gronok clans was in 5 minutes, he shoved the issue to the back of his mind to let his subconscious play with it. As much as he hated the Immortal, it might be fun to involve him next in his game of misdirection.

ROME

Spike flipped through his money clip and growled in frustration. He was running low on funds after gallivanting through Europe. He hadn’t gotten top dollar from the car he took from the Wolfram & Hart garage because he was in such a hurry to convert it to cash. Then he’d had to pay a pretty penny for documents. But if his intel was any good, Buffy would be here and it would all have been worth it.

He thought back to when he was last in Rome in the 1950’s. He and Dru had gone beatnik and hung at a great little club. Most of the patrons were stoned and feeding from them was a trip. This time, though, he headed for the demon part of town. Most large cities had them, and in older places they tended to stay the same throughout the centuries.

He found a club that catered to the lesser demons, the ones who would eventually be killed by a slayer because they had neither the brains nor common sense to avoid her path. He never heard mention of a slayer, and if she’d been here, they’d be talking about it. Comparing notes, plotting to kill her, bragging about having survived a battle with her; none of this was occurring.

He finally decided to just talk to the bartender despite his wish to lay low. His effort proved fruitful when the man admitted that he’d heard a slayer was in the city, but there had been no reports of her slaying. When it was clear to the demons that she was not a threat, they’d resumed life as normal and still she was not seen patrolling.

His shoulders slumped as he pondered his next move. The Watcher’s housekeeper could have been lying, but he could usually detect such things in humans. She believed she was telling him the truth. And according to the barkeeper she was here, just not in the public eye. Which would make it exceedingly difficult to find her.

There was someone who might know a thing or two, someone who probably had his elegantly manicured fingers in everyone’s pies. The thought of asking him for information was exceedingly distasteful, but he was feeling a mite desperate at the moment and was willing to bear the pain if it meant getting a crumb of information regarding Buffy.

He signaled the bartender again. “You know where the Immortal can be found these days?”

“Si, signore, he owns the most exclusive club in town. It’s not likely you’ll gain an audience with him by going there, but there is a third party who may be able to help you.”

Spike downed his shot. “A third party you say?”

“His lawyers. Wolfram e Hart, you know?”

Bloody hell. Damn leeches were everywhere. “There’s a branch office hereabouts?” He tried to ask casually.

The man nodded toward a bulletin board covered with notices. Smack dab in the center was an advertisement for the best legal counsel a blood sacrifice could buy. He moved closer and grabbed a card from the holder attached to the advert. The law office from Hell was the last place he wanted to set foot in, but it also might bring him one step closer to the Slayer.

Checking the time on the wall clock above the bar, he decided to stroll through the area, hoping to hear or see something that would keep him from having to visit the law firm. Thank whatever Gods were watching over him that he encountered nothing out of the ordinary. What he’d done in London was bound to send ripples through the European demon community soon enough and he didn’t want any trouble while he was here.

Making his way slowly back to his hotel, he decided he’d go to Wolfram & Hart first thing after sundown tomorrow. He knew from haunting the LA branch that the lawyers catered to their clients’ strange hours and that someone would be there to answer questions at all hours of the day.

^^^^^^^^

CLEVELAND

Giles replayed Angel’s disturbing phone call several times over in his head. Spike had killed the Master of London for unknown reasons after pledging his loyalty to the old vampire. This reinforced Giles’ intuition that the blond vampire had indeed lost his soul and was up to no good. It was not the dusting of the Master that had Giles concerned, it was Spike swearing to be loyal to a dangerous demon. To what end?

He was also aware that it was a member of his household staff who’d told Spike that Giles and the Summers girls were in Rome. The woman was distraught when she found out she’d let a potentially lethal killer into the mansion, but stated over and over again how charming he was and desperate to find the women he cared so much about. A witch from the coven had been dispatched to perform the disinvite spell and the maid had been reprimanded. Rupert guessed that she wouldn’t be talking to strangers again anytime soon.

And now Spike was probably in Rome. What would he do when he discovered that Buffy wasn’t there? Buffy had not been actively slaying in Italy. She was getting a chance to be a normal girl; shopping, making new friends, and checking out the nightlife. She’d met no one of note, and Giles was confident she’d left no trace of herself there.

The Cleveland Hellmouth had cooperated quite nicely and had presented several dire situations since their arrival. He thought they’d have time to wrap up a few more acopalypses before crossing the ocean once again and settling in London. He’d told Buffy that she was urgently needed at the Slayer Training Centre and she reluctantly agreed to relocate there, albeit temporarily, to help them out.

Giles then wondered at what point this charade would end. There had never been mention of anyone dusting Spike or determining if he presented a real threat to the Council and Slayers. He decided that once they were back in London they would stay there until something was resolved. And now it was time to research the latest threat, so he grabbed his dusty tomes and went downstairs to meet with the group.

^^^^^^^^

Spike stood outside the Rome branch of Wolfram & Hart, not knowing if he should scream or laugh. It looked the bloody same as the LA branch. He knew the interior would match as well. Cracking his neck, he straightened his spine and strode through the doors. He entered the lift and went to the floor where he knew the CEO’s office would be, and approached Harmony’s counterpart, a nervous-looking young gentleman.

“Need to have a sit-down with the CEO, mate,” he growled, flashing a bit of fang to intimidate the assistant.

“Do you have an appointment?”

He went into full game-face. “This is my appointment, you lackey. Now get him!”

Him turned out to be a her, a very buxom her in a form-fitting dress showing an ample amount of cleavage. She flounced toward him, throwing her arms open wide.

“Spike!” she cried, grasping his arms and giving him the two-cheek European kiss. “My vampire bello! Ciao! Benvenuti! Welcome to Rome! I am Ilona Costa Bianchi and I am CEO of the Roman offices of Wolfram e Hart. I am so happy to make your acquaintance!”

She tucked her hand through his arm and led him to her office, talking all the while and not letting him ask any questions. “I believe there is someone here you already know.” He saw the back of a brown-haired man, who gracefully rose and turned slowly toward them.

Balls! The bloody Immortal was here!

TBC