Around the World - a Denny's Court AU story featuring Welshy, Iron Liz, SadPanda's Nomads, and more
Title: Around the World (Around the World)
Rating: R to be safe, but other than some swearing, violence, and talk of disturbing things, not much to be worried about.
Word Count: 6,107
Characters/Pairings: Iron Liz, Welshy, SadPanda and his Nomads, mentions of Spoony/Insano/Linkara, OC Molly, Happy Viking/OC Kari, mentions of others
Warnings: Unbeta’d. OCs running wild. Me being verbose because I haven’t written for myself in a long time. Allusions to human sacrifice, character death, and a dream that could be prophetic or not.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these people. I’d like to think that I kinda own Molly, as she’s an OC, but you may use her in fanfiction if you like. Also, I have only a vague idea of how Molotov cocktails work, please excuse my lack of experience with such things. And Happy Viking is on blip, please go check him out because he’s great and needs more love.
A/N: I’ve had this kicking around in my head for a while now, ever since Welshy and Sad Panda and Panda’s Nomads showed up in the Denny’s Court AU. And I thought it was time for Slayer Liz to step out of the city for a while and have adventures of her own. And then this fic just spiraled out of control with a big fight scene, an OC taking up too much screentime, a bar containing a guy who isn’t even on the site yet (though he should be!) and a random dream sequence. Enjoy?
P.S. Doylestown is a real place, with a really awesome museum and a house made of concrete. Highly recommend it if you get the chance.
Welshy eyed his sad bagel sandwich suspiciously, waiting for the intercom to announce boarding for the next bus out of town. Everything he really needed could fit into a backpack that even the tiniest of companies would let him carry onto the bus. He had a suitcase that contained the large crossbow that didn’t collapse, a collection of knives, some coffee-stained paperbacks, some changes of clothes, an extra pair of boots, and minor disguise supplies. The suitcase had to be put under the bus, stored with other luggage, and every time he traveled he risked having it stolen, losing it, or being attacked before he could get to it.
“Toss that, I brought something better,” Liz said, sitting down next to him and fishing something wrapped in tinfoil out of her jacket pocket.
Welshy blinked. “What are you doing here?” he asked, knowing he was being rude but too surprised to care.
“I’m going with you. Take the sandwich.” Liz held out the tinfoil packet.
“I work alone.”
“Not anymore, you don’t.”
“Is that the Order talking, or you?” Welshy asked, taking the sandwich and unwrapping it: bacon, lettuce, and tomato nestled between two slices of some delicious smelling bread.
“Both. They’ve been hinting that I should get out of town for a while, and when I told them I thought you could use a partner, they agreed it was a good idea for us to team up.” Liz withdrew a second sandwich and started eating it. “If you’ll let me, that is, Mr. Big Badass Lone Wolf.”
“Wayward Slayer,” Welshy corrected through mouthfuls of the sandwich. “God, this is delicious.”
“You’re welcome.”
They ate in silence for a few moments, tossing away the wrappers and eyeing each other uncomfortably.
“I can handle them myself.” Welshy said at last, clinging to his last vestiges of pride.
“Jesus, Welshy, there’s eight of them now!” Liz hissed, trying not to draw too much attention in the station. “You should have had a partner a long time ago, Panda being as old as he is, with as big a family as he has.” Liz shook her head. “I don’t care how badass you think you are: logic says that you should be dead by now.”
That stung, because Welshy knew it was the truth. He remembered attacking the vampire with the goggles - Insano - and nearly getting ripped apart by the vampire in the suit and that frighteningly fast couple. Not to mention Vampire Lord Spoony’s threat/promise.
Welshy sighed and slumped in his seat, staring at the floor. “Yeah, I really fucking blew it, didn’t I? Threatened the Lord’s childe, got beaten up by his bodyguards, nearly got strangled half to death, was banished by a vampire …” he turned to Liz. “Ok, I know why I need to get out of town, but why are you leaving this city? Haven’t you been here for a while?”
“The Order -” Liz began, but Welshy cut her off.
“You’re no Linkara, but you’re hardly the poster child for obedience to the Order.”
Liz shrugged. “Change of scenery would be good for me.”
There was something in her tone that suggested other motives. “What else?” Welshy pressed.
“Slayers in this territory are …” Liz’s lips twisted, looking for the right phrase, “… outdated.”
“Ah,” Welshy nodded. “Linkara.”
Liz nodded. “The Order is really pissed about his behavior. They sent me to keep an eye on him a while ago. We were friends back in training, I know him well. … Knew him, that is.” Liz sighed. “People sure can change.”
“Tell me about it.” Welshy shook his head. “I mean, shacking up with a vampire? What’s that about?”
Liz barked a laugh. “That’s not the worst of it. It’s not just Spoony,” she looked around, and then leaned in and whispered, “It’s Insano too.”
Welshy blinked. “Spoony’s childe?”
“Brother. Childe. Lover …” Liz gulped. “And Linkara’s right there in the middle of some crazy vampire incest.”
“Jesus Christ, what the bloody hell is wrong with this town?” Welshy yelped.
Some people in the bus station turned to stare at Welshy. He turned red and shrank in his seat until the other people went back to their newspapers and laptops.
“I mean, seriously,” Welshy said in an undertone, “vampires rule the place, there’s laws for feeding, the resident slayer is more like one of those Renaissance consorts to the Medici family …” Welshy shook his head. “I’m not one for politics. Panda and his family run, I chase, we fight, and hopefully one of these days I’ll put a stake through that bastard and end him once and for all. I don’t bother with things like city boundaries or hierarchy or who’s sleeping with whom.”
Liz nodded. “I think I’m going to enjoy the simplicity of our goal, and the challenge of taking them on without being able to rely on backup or home-turf advantage.” She glanced sideways at Welshy. “That is … is you’ll let me join you?”
Welshy considered her. “Well, you’re a great fighter, no doubt about that. And I hate to admit it, but Panda and his brood really have been kicking my ass for the past couple of years. I need help. It’ll make me feel better if I can blame the Order, not you or me.”
“So that’s a yes?”
“Yeah, that’s a yes.” Welshy shook Liz’s hand. “Quote Casablanca and I’ll have to punch you.”
“Fair enough,” Liz grinned.
~*~
When the bus stopped for the night, Welshy and Liz rented a cheap motel room, ignoring the leers of the man sitting behind the desk. After scrounging up some pizza from a restaurant around the corner, they settled into their dinky room. Liz took a shower and Welshy flipped through channels before giving up in disgust: nothing but bad horror movies and celebrity shows.
“So, why does the Order really want me to partner up?” Welshy asked. “It can’t just be numbers. They sent one Slayer to deal with a whole city crawling with the leeches, I’m one guy against seven … eight now that they picked up that girl. So what gives?”
Liz set down her pizza box. “They’ve killed a Slayer before.”
Welshy blinked. “I didn’t know that.” He hadn’t gotten a good look at the records on Panda and his bloodline when Gardenia had let him glance over some copies of her grandfather’s books. Gardenia had been more interested in … other things at the time, and what with the wine and her low-cut blouse and the smiling, Welshy hadn’t been able to read the whole book.
“I looked them up. The Keeper was my mentor on my senior project, he still lets me look up information if I ask nicely.”
“Lucky,” Welshy said. “I had to get what Gardenia could smuggle out, which wasn’t much. She wasn’t, ah, interested in reading that night.”
Liz leaned over and punched him on the arm, a little too hard to be entirely playful. “I could have seduced her too, I prefer to get my information from the source, without distractions.” Liz smirked, then became serious. “Anyways, it was Panda, Ed, Dena, Phelous, and … these twins. Don’t know much about the twins, but they got killed by a Slayer in Boston in Victorian times. They ripped Robert Armitage apart and skewered him with his own crossbow.”
Welshy shuddered.
“And that’s why the Order wants more than one Slayer trailing them. They never tried to push a partner on you before?”
Welshy shrugged. “Couple times, never really pushed to hard though. Maybe they thought I needed to be taught a lesson by going at it alone. Maybe they thought I’d get hurt so bad or scared so much that I’d come begging for backup.”
Liz sighed, flumping back on her bed. “Sounds like them, unfortunately. Sometimes I think they’re too stuck-up for their own good.”
“You sound like Linkara.” Welshy pointed out.
Liz laughed. “Yeah, gimme a couple weeks of living out in the wild with you, I’m sure I’ll start falling for Mike J and having kinky threesomes with him and … I dunno, Luke.”
Welshy shared her laugh, and the two settled in for a night of restless sleep in their separate but equally uncomfortable beds.
~*~
Three weeks later …
This was the first time since they’d become partners that they’d tracked down Panda and his Nomads. There had been a trail to follow, of course. The dead bodies were a rather big clue. Some homeless people in Cincinnati. A couple of drunk college guys missing in Cleveland. The morning crew of a local bakery, found at 7am by the late cashier, covered in blood and flour. And the half dozen bodies found in towns and smaller cities along the road from each landmark city to another. The Order had provided a car at last, which had helped significantly with the Slayers’ pursuit.
Now Welshy and Liz were in Philadelphia, in a graveyard to be exact, sneaking up on the mausoleum they’d followed Phelous and Dena to half an hour ago.
“You ready for this?” Welshy asked.
“As I’ll ever be. You?” Liz readied the booze, rags already dipped down the necks of her bottles.
“Of course.” Welshy nodded, and they circled around the stone structure. They could hear the sounds of the vampires laughing inside, some words here and there, but nothing substantial.
Liz lit the rags with a lighter and tossed one Molotov cocktail through the window, right at Ed Glaser’s feet, and then the other one towards the opposite side of the mausoleum, singeing Dena’s skirts as the bottle broke and fire and alcohol flew everywhere.
As glass shattered and vampires screamed, Welshy kicked the door down. He inwardly lamented the loss of alcohol, even the cheap kind they’d bought for this purpose, but admired Liz’s ingenuity.
“Well, motherfucker,” SadPanda said, as deadpan as ever, standing up and pushing his newest childe behind him. The room was full of smoke and flames and frantic vampires. Liz threw another Molotov cocktail through the window, herding the vampires towards the back of the mausoleum. She pointed her crossbow through one of the broken windows and shot off Phelous’ hat, just to make a point. Panda was focused on Welshy and Ed Glaser was currently rolling around on the floor on fire, with Goggles and Luke frantically trying to put out the flames. Phelous barely reacted to the loss of his hat, helping Mike J rip at Dena’s burning skirt, eventually tearing it all the way around at the knee. The newest one, Cat, was staring around with wide eyes, obviously in shock.
Liz almost felt sorry for the girl, but then she remembered that teenage couple four days ago who’d turned up dead, covered in bite marks with a cat drawn over their heads in their own blood. Cat might be a young vampire, and look harmless, but she was anything but innocent.
“Might I suggest retreat?” Ed panted, shirt and slacks still smoking as Goggles and Luke stifled the flames with dirt from the floor.
“Do what you like, I don’t care.” Panda snapped, pacing back and forth, eyes on Welshy. “This one and I have some unfinished business.”
Goggles and Luke lifted Ed up. Mike J yanked open a grate at the back of the mausoleum and dove down into a tunnel of some kind. Leaning on each other and pausing to retrieve the hat from the wall, Phelous and Dena staggered down after him. Goggles, Luke, and Ed followed. Cat stayed in the corner, watching as the fires started to fade as Panda and Welshy leapt at each other.
Liz tried to keep track of the fight, but with the smoke and the speed, it all became a blur. She moved to the doorway, sneaking down the steps into the room, risking the smoke to backup her partner.
At that point, the fight was not going in Welshy’s favor very much. In fact, his crossbow had been smashed against the floor and Panda was pinning him to the wall, one hand around Welshy’s throat as the redhead kicked and struggled. Welshy’s face was turning red from lack of air.
“Hey, panda-bear!”
SadPanda turned, eyes widening slightly as Liz leveled her crossbow at his face.
“Let him go, or I put one of these through your eye.”
Panda chuckled, twisting Welshy around like a ragdoll and using him as a human shield. “That won’t kill me, Slayer.”
“No, it won’t. But while you’re nice and distracted by that, I’ll put one through her chest,” Liz jerked her head at the Cat.
“You wouldn’t dare!” SadPanda snarled.
“Oh, trust me, I would.” Liz glared, trying to remain calm as the vampire who always looked so bored began to show signs of murderous rage. “So let him go, take your little girlfriend, and go down that grate like the rat you are. We’ll give you a day’s head start, Slayer’s Honor.”
SadPanda glanced from her to Welshy to Cat and back to Liz and her crossbow. Finally he hissed with frustration, shoved Welshy towards Liz, threw the trembling Cat over his shoulder, and vanished down the tunnel.
Liz slammed the grate shut after them and locked it before turning to Welshy.
“Can you stand?”
“I -” Welshy fell on his face. “… no.”
Liz dragged him up and half dragged, half carried him out of the burning crypt.
“Ok, let’s get you into the car and get the hell outta Dodge … you need a hospital?”
“No, I just need lots of painkillers and some rest. I’ve had way worse. You should probably keep waking me up in case I have a concussion. I don’t think I do, but wake me every hour or two just to make sure, ok?”
Liz got Welshy into the passenger’s seat and slammed the door. Then she suddenly found herself lying on the ground, crossbow knocked out of her hands. Her side was on fire from sudden and paralyzing pain.
“Who are you again?” SadPanda drawled. “Oh, forget about it.” His foot lashed out and Liz barely dodged the kick, scrambling for her crossbow.
“I’ve tolerated Welshy. He’s an idiot, but at least he’s amusing sometimes. You can fuck right off.” Panda stepped on Liz’s hands and leaned against the car door. “I think I’m going to break your neck. My Childe should taste Slayer blood. Then we can finish off Welshy -”
“Let her go, Panda.” Welshy snarled.
Liz looked up - Welshy had rolled the window down and was holding a knife to Panda’s throat.
“Well motherfucker,” Panda held up his hands and stepped off of Liz’s fingers, but not before twisting slightly and making her cry out in pain.
Eyes watering, Liz grabbed her crossbow and pointed it at Panda as he slowly backed away.
“Until we meet again, Welshy … and what’s-her-face.”
“It’s Liz, you bastard!” Liz snarled, crawling through the backseat of the car and locking all the doors.
Welshy had already put the key in the ignition for her.
“Oh god, oh fuck, drive drive drive drive drive!” Liz tore out of the graveyard, keeping her eyes peeled for any vampires looking to stop them or crash through the windshield. She didn’t relax until they were back on the highway and pushing 70 mph.
“Ok, so, new plan. I definitely have a concussion, and he just gave you a nasty smack. There’s a witch who lives about an hour or so from here, in Doylestown. If I call her up she’ll bitch a bit but she’ll heal us and give us a safe haven for the night, provided we pay her and are on our best behavior. Sound good?”
Liz nodded. “Yeah, sounds good. Fuck, my hands … I think he might have broken something.”
“Need me to drive?”
“And have you pass out doing 60 on the highway? I don’t think so. I’ll stick it out until we make it to this witch’s house. Just tell me how to get there, and don’t you pass out on me!”
~*~
“And what sort of time do you call this, young man?” a girl in a pink robe smirked at Welshy and Liz, hands on her hips.
“Sorry, Molls, vampires mostly work at night.” Welshy leaned on the doorframe. “I think I have a concussion, and my friend just got her hands stepped on by a pissed off Panda. Could you help us out?”
“Depends, what’re you offering?”
“What do you need?”
The witch pursed her lips and thought. “Don’t need anyone dealt with, but peanuts aren’t gonna cut it this time. I’ve had a long week and you’ve just made it longer. We’ll discuss specifics after I’ve gotten you two bandaged up, but … something along the lines of the Anderson Case?”
Welshy nodded. “Yeah, that seems fair. Thanks Molly.”
“Ok. If you are able …” Molly gestured at her threshold. “I don’t invite people in explicitly. Hazard of living in the supernatural community.”
Liz staggered over the threshold, followed by Welshy.
“Welcome to my humble abode.” Molly locked the door and studied Liz more closely. “I’ll deal with your side first, then his head, then your hands, then his bruises. That work for you?”
“Yessum.” Liz nodded and sat where Molly directed her.
Molly handed Welshy some potion bottles. “Drink these and stay in the kitchen. I have to take her shirt off.”
Welshy did as he was told and smiled at Liz supportively.
Blushing slightly, Liz removed her shirt with some help from Molly.
Molly whistled. “Bastard got you but good. Vampire, right?”
“Yeah,” Liz stared at the livid bruise that stretched from her hip to under her armpit. “I was getting Welshy to the car and Panda snuck up on me. Stepped on my hands, too. Said he was gonna feed me to his Childe.”
Molly shuddered. “Can’t stand vamps like that. Most of them are just disgusting. I mean, I dated one for a while, not gonna lie, but he was one of those ones who only eats animals, y’know? Ran an animal shelter, took little snacks from the dogs and kitties. You know some people even give horses to animal shelters? Horses! He had a little herd at one point. Crazy.” Molly shook her head and pressed her hand against Liz’s skin, purple light flowing from her fingertips. She didn’t stop talking. “He employed some of the local vamps to get them off of humans for the most part. He was more into the cause than having a girlfriend, though, wanted to start traveling the country with his herd of horses and vampire volunteers. We broke up after about a year because he wanted to go on the road and I wanted to stay put. Real shame, he was a demon in the sack.” Molly pulled her hand away from Liz and stood up. “Well, not like an actual demon, funny story … second thought, I don’t know you that well yet. Demon story’ll have to wait.”
Liz stared at the bruise. It was already starting to fade, and her ribs no longer hurt. Her shock must have shown on her face, because Molly beamed with pride.
“It’ll take about three days for it to fade entirely, and I want you to rest, ok? No crazy fights for a week at least, promise? Otherwise you might do some serious damage to those ribs, and that’s something a doctor will have to look at.”
“Thank you,” Liz said as Molly helped her put her shirt back on. “Thank you so much.”
“You haven’t paid yet, this is just business, honest,” Molly grinned. “Hey, Welshy! Your turn!”
Molly shone a flashlight into Welshy’s eyes, made him follow her finger from side to side, and asked him a few questions while Liz waited patiently by the fire.
“Ok, you can sleep through the night without worrying. My potions should be enough. Drink the purple bottle before you go to sleep, and the blue one when you wake up, and you’ll be set. Now, Buffy’s hands.”
Liz fell asleep on the couch sometime after Molly had finished bandaging her hands. Only three fingers required splinting, and Molly promised that nine hours and a hefty dose of potions would get rid of even those. Liz drifted off to sleep as Molly and Welshy bickered like old friends, Molly dabbing at his bruises with a checkered cloth soaked in some kind of paste. The taste of the potions on her lips, Liz slid into a dreamless rest.
~*~
“Liz?”
Liz woke to Welshy gently prodding her on the shoulder.
“You want breakfast? Molly made scrambled eggs.”
Liz rubbed her eyes with her bandaged fingers and joined Welshy in the sunlit kitchen, where Molly steered them to a small and cluttered table.
“Fingers feeling better?” Molly asked, deftly removing the splints and bandages.
Liz flexed her fingers tentatively. “… yes! Again, thank you -”
“We still haven’t discussed payment,” Molly cut her off and placed a large plate of scrambled eggs in the middle of the table. “Sorry, but I’m a vegetarian, and as it’s my house, my rules: no meat.”
Liz shrugged. “Works for me, I guess.” She helped herself to the eggs and toast, and the fruit salad.
Welshy drowned his eggs in ketchup, much to Molly’s disgust.
“When was the last time we had homecooked food?” Liz asks.
“Well, for you it was last month, for me it’s been … a year? Maybe?” Welshy shrugs. “When was Hanukkah, again? These adorable little Jewish girls made me latkes because I took down a Golem that was rampaging down their street.”
Liz raised her eyebrows. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Golem before.”
“Orthodox, Conservative, or Reform?” Molly asked, sprinkling cheese on her eggs.
“What?” Welshy asked.
“The girls. What branch were they?”
“Uh … I didn’t ask? They were kinda gay …”
“Unless one was a rabbi, I can’t pin down what they were, then. Just curious. I dabbled in college.”
“With gayness?” Liz asked, before she could stop herself.
“With Judaism.” Molly grinned. “I’ve been bisexual since I knew what wanting to kiss Timmy and Sharon in sixth grade meant. But anyways, we’ve gotten waaaaaay off topic,” Molly set down her fork. “So, payment.”
“Brace yourself, Liz,” Welshy warned, taking a huge bite of toast. “Molly has been known to ask me to go buy rabbit chow for her at the grocery store, lug it back, and consider that “payment” for healing me.”
“That was one time, for one little broken bone. In your foot. This was a bit bigger. A lot bigger. This will be more than a short errand for bunny food.”
Liz and Welshy exchanged a look, trying not to betray their nervousness to each other.
“I need you to deliver some things to a … well, to an acquaintance of mine. I’d go myself but the … people he’s currently hanging out with … make me uncomfortable. He’s a perfect gentleman, of course, but at certain times of the year he’s required to be present at certain events that I … don’t really agree with, and hang out with utter boors and party until the sun comes up and sleep all day and …” Molly sighed and downed her glass of orange juice, slamming it on the table.
“We’re going to need more information, Molls. How bad is this crowd?” Welshy asked.
“I wouldn’t go in expecting trouble, but be prepared for a lot of teasing, maybe some idle threats. They’re just bored, for the most part, jonesing for a fight, you know how it is. I wouldn’t give in, if you can help it. Go in armed, but not heavily. Most people there will have some kind of weapon on them automatically. Drink if they make a big deal of offering hospitality, but sparingly, the stuff’ll knock your socks off.”
Molly took a laptop down from the counter and started searching through a folder titled “Pictures of Me.” Liz saw lots of pictures of Molly and a pale young man with fangs - the horse-drinking ex-boyfriend - and several of Molly with elaborate eye-makeup and lots of greenery in her hair, before Molly settled on a picture of herself with her arm around the shoulders of a skinny man with long dark hair and a huge smile.
“This is the guy I want you to give the things to. He goes by Happy Viking, don’t ask me why. Suits him, though. Unless you get into a fight about music. Or he has one of his little episodes. But those don’t happen that much!” Molly hurriedly assured Welshy and Liz, who were giving each other A Look. “He’s not crazy, not exactly … look, it doesn’t matter, just bring him the stuff and I’ll consider us even, ok?”
Welshy shrugged. “Can’t be worse than Panda and his family, right?”
~*~
Someone came flying out the door and landed on his back, groaning, the reek of alcohol all over him.
“Ok, I’m a little nervous.” Welshy said, stepping over the man carefully.
“Yeah, me too. Let’s try not to show it.” Liz squared her shoulders. “Just gotta deliver the backpack and leave. Don’t want to cause any trouble.”
They entered the bar.
The music was overpowering, thundering drums and wailing guitars and something that sounded like a fiddle. A writhing crowd of people - mostly men - took up what must have been the dance floor, punching the air, attempting to mosh, and headbanging. Liz craned her neck and could make out a band at the far end of the room, lights flashing around their instruments.
“I don’t see him.” Welshy yelled over the din of the music.
“Ask the bartender?” Liz yelled back.
Welshy nodded and they headed for the bar.
“What can I get you, fair warrior?” the bartender asked, smiling politely at Liz, who felt a blush creep over her face. She wasn’t used to people complimenting her when she was working.
“We’re looking for Happy Viking.”
“And what do you want with him?” the bartender was now looking politely suspicious.
“Molly sent us.” Welshy said, hefting the backpack.
“Ah, well in that case, he’s up in one of the booths in the balcony. I’ll tell Tony to let you two up.” The Bartender nodded towards some stairs, guarded by a very large man indeed.
“Molly sent you? Awesome! Sit down, sit down!” he turned to the woman draped over his shoulder. “Kari could you possibly get some drinks for Molly’s friends, please?”
“Well, just this one time,” she giggled and stood up, stretched, and sauntered down the stairs to the bar. As she left, Liz and Welshy saw that Kari’s back was … hollow. Like a tree trunk, but with skin instead of bark. There was also what looked like a cow’s tail emerging from under her flowing skirt.
“Don’t comment on it, it’s rude and you’d be cursed,” Happy Viking gestured to some empty spots on the other side of the booth and Welshy and Liz tentatively sat down.
“So, what did Molly send me?” the man looked like a kid at Christmas, smiling with excitement and bouncing in place.
“She said it’s a gift from her bees,” Welshy slid the backpack off and Liz slid it down the table towards Happy Viking.
“You’re my new favorite people!” Happy Viking yelped, opening the backpack and finding about a dozen small jars of honey nestled inside, wrapped in bubble wrap and towels. “I cannot wait to get this mixed up for mead. Molly’s bees are essential for the best mead around here. Thank you so much, guys.”
Kari returned with a tray of drinks, setting them down. She returned to his side, nuzzling his neck and sipping from one of the drinks.
“Please, I insist, you did come all this way and lug that thing in here,” Happy Viking gestured to the drinks. “On the house.”
Liz and Welshy exchanged a look.
“Don’t have to tell me twice. Cheers, mate,” Welshy picked up a frothy mug and took a long gulp. “… god, that is good!”
Liz sipped more cautiously. It was indeed tasty. “Thank you for your hospitality … sir.”
Happy Viking laughed. “Sir? Call me Happy Viking. I’m not that old … well, I am, but I don’t need reminding.”
“Sometimes you do,” Kari giggled.
“Only because you’re insatiable,” Happy Viking said in mock exasperation.
While Welshy began to drain a second glass, Liz watched the playful teasing between Kari and Happy Viking. It reminded her of Alex and Nora, or even Spoony and Linkara at their more domestic moments. She shook her head, trying not to think about that. She missed that city, her friends, especially Scarlett … but she was here now, with Welshy, tracking down Sad Panda and his Nomads.
“I like the music,” she said at last, fishing for a conversation starter.
“Really?” Happy Viking perked up, which was saying something, as his default setting seemed to be “perky.”
“I was obsessed with Judas Priest as a kid. Still got some old shirts. Haven’t had much time to go to concerts lately, but yeah, I really like metal.” Liz smiled. “Hearing it blasting in here is actually pretty comforting.”
This started an intense conversation Liz wasn’t sure she had been properly prepared for. Happy Viking rattled off bands and facts and controversies and songs while Kari smiled indulgently, interjecting every now and then about a folk metal band Happy Viking would then gush over. Welshy listened with interest, mostly asking questions.
“We get great concerts here pretty regularly, you should come back for one. I could get you free tickets, even. You wouldn’t owe me anything, a friend of Molly’s is a friend of mine.”
Liz was tempted. It had been ages since she’d headbanged in a crowd of metalheads to an awesome band.
“We’re on the road pretty much constantly. I don’t know if that’d be possible. Sorry. I wish I could, though.”
Happy Viking shrugged. “I’ll hold onto a couple tickets, in case you’re ever in the area again. Just swing by here, if I’m not here, the barman will know where to find me.”
Someone was beating a single drum, loud and steady and ominous.
“You should probably leave.” Happy Viking said, standing up. “Thank you very much for bringing Molly’s honey to me. She’s a good friend, I’m sorry that she feels so strongly about how we worship here.”
“Worship? Here?” Liz looked around at the dark and crowded club.
“Yes. Molly didn’t tell you? Huh … well, you should definitely leave now, then.” Happy Viking started to herd them towards the stairs. “… and of course they’re already starting. While you’re still here. Fuck.”
Liz and Welshy turned to the stage. The band was carrying their speakers and instruments away and stagehands were setting up some kind of structure.
“That’s not what I think it is, is it?” Liz asked.
“Short answer: yes. The All Father demands a sacrifice. Molly has different views on how to worship; that’s why she wouldn’t come. Sorry you had to see the start of this.” Happy Viking was starting to push them now. “Give my best to Molly. Thanks, bye now.”
The doors to the club slammed shut, but not before Welshy and Liz saw a noose thrown over the crossbeam.
Liz shuddered. “Let’s pretend that didn’t happen, ok?”
“Don’t know if I can. Human sacrifice … shouldn’t we be trying to stop that?”
“It’s probably consensual. And it’s not our job to make judgments on religious stuff. We hunt vampires who kill humans. We deal with monsters who cause a ruckus. That’s it.” Liz paused. “Excuse me,” she ducked into the alleyway, leaned over a trashcan, and threw up.
Welshy grabbed her hair and held it back as she heaved, spitting the taste of bile from her mouth.
“The, uh, mead didn’t agree with me. Can’t hold my liquor.”
“Ok.” Welshy nodded. “Yeah I, I feel queasy too. Best get back to Molly’s place and have a nice sleep. Heal our ribs and skulls and stuff so we can go track down Panda and his family tomorrow.”
Liz made a noise of agreement, and together they headed back to Molly’s.
~*~
Panda drew Cat close, closer than was comfortable for the girl, but not so much that she complained. He stared at the dusty ceiling, the floorboards of some poor deluded vampire aficionado’s basement, and closed his eyes.
Panda dreamed.
They are gone, all of them. Some dead, killed by one Slayer or another. Most have run away, or left. Phelous and Dena fought him, tooth and nail, and when he overpowered them he didn’t have the heart to kill them, so he let them leave, limping and clinging to each other, probably headed for Spoony’s Court.
Welshy finds him in a graveyard. Panda is kneeling in front of Cat’s human grave, a formality as her “body” had never been found, and her human family had bought the grave and headstone after Cat was declared legally dead seven years after Panda had taken her.
Now she really is dead. His Marie d’Aubray lost, again. Executed.
“I won’t resist.” Panda says, staring at the false headstone with its human name, the name he never called the girl, the name he tried so hard to erase as he molded her into his perfect mate. “For once, I’m at your mercy.”
“Mercy?” Welshy barks a laugh, circling Panda, stake in one hand and a long knife in the other. “After all that you’ve done, all that you … and they …”
“I know very well what I deserve.” Panda removes his necklace and lays it at the base of the headstone. “Do your duty, Slayer.”
Welshy drops the stake and seizes Panda by the hair, knife at Panda’s throat. Panda can’t help but stare into Welshy’s eyes, watching, waiting for the final blow.
Welshy snarls in frustration and slams Panda down against the ground, drops the knife and goes for the stake, holds it over Panda’s chest.
Panda stares up at the sky. It’s starting to turn the faint blue of early morning, in the east. The stars are fading. The moon has set.
“… bugger.” Welshy rolls off of Panda. “I can’t … I can’t do it. All these years, all this hunting, and when I finally get the chance I can’t … argh!” Welshy stabs the ground with the stake.
“Do you know how old I am, Welshy?” Panda asks, sitting up slowly.
“Fuck should I care?”
“I don’t even remember anymore. I’m so old, Welshy. I’m older than most vampires. Spoony? Pah, a teenager compared to me. That was why I wanted Ed around, he remembers the old times. When there weren’t so many people. When the world was slower. When the wars were shorter. When the woods dwarfed the cities. Seeing the world change so much, while I stayed the same … that’s why I needed them, Welshy. I needed them to keep me sane, or at least functional. They saw things with fresh eyes, with new memories, new experiences. I could only watch. They could change. I needed them. They were mine.” Panda doesn’t even have the energy to snarl.
There’s a long pause.
“Will you just kill me already?”
Welshy shakes his head. “After all this time I just … can’t.”
Panda shrugs. “Well, motherfucker.”
Welshy laughs. Panda joins him.
Then Panda pounces, pinning Welshy against Cat’s human gravestone. “In that case … your human life? Your Wayward Slayer title? Everything you thought you could feel and dream and do?” Panda brushes his fangs against Welshy’s neck. “Forget about it …”
Then he bites into Welshy’s neck. Welshy screams …
Cat whimpered in her sleep, rousing Panda from his slumber. He held her close, murmuring in French until she settled.
Panda had experienced prophetic dreams in the past, but not so frequently that he could decipher which dreams were prophetic and which were bullshit. He wasn’t sure which he wanted this latest one to be.
On the one hand, the agony his dream-self had felt at losing his family, watching Phelous and Dena limp away, kneeling at Cat’s grave, vague flashes of blood and bodies, Mike J and Luke entwined in a wicker cage with flames approaching … Ed and Goggles fleeing onto a ship headed straight for a hurricane …
On the other hand, Welshy’s neck under his fangs, Welshy’s blood filling his mouth, Welshy … his …
Panda would have to think about that.
(To be continued …)