(no subject)
So far this morning I've watched Angel's only remaining human senior staff member go from hiding away in his office...to hiding behind Angel's curtains and a large potted plant. I've had an enlightening encounter with the vampire himself and his..."new toy", McDonald.
And I thought I'd be idle now that Angel has begun a campaign to get onto the Circle of the Black Thorn.
My visit with Pryce has disabused me of that notion. I'll have to check in with him again. For a number of reasons.
In the meantime, there's the issue of the cocky little cowboy Angel's leading around the office now, practically collared and leashed. There's a story there, and not the one McDonald tried spinning for me.
"Figured with your top Gunn keeping the torture chamber warm for me, you boys might be in need of an attorney who knows the ropes around this place," he said when I asked Angel why he'd been taken out of his cell.
I seriously doubt that's what Angel's doing with him, but it's convenient that McDonald should mention Gunn as part of his excuse. I've been meaning to make a little trip down to the holding dimension where Angel left him. After having spent a few evenings with the Wrath, the man just might be ready to hear what I have to say to him.
Besides, I don't get out of the office nearly enough. I could probably use a day trip.
I take my corporate car to the holding dimension. Nothing as flashy as the ones in Angel's personal collection, but comfortable. The sound system is excellent. I pull up in Gunn's driveway, Sibellius tuned in on the car stereo, at about the time that he and the other three hundred and thirty-six human occupants of this subdivision are realizing that they're going to have their hearts cut out. Again.
I turn off the car, but leave it unlocked. There's never any crime in this neighborhood. I whistle on my way to the door and knock politely.
Gunn's "wife" answers, a wary smile on her face. She opens the door just far enough to stick out her head, hiding the rest of herself behind it. Her expression is a convincing one of concern for who, or what, might have come knocking at this hour.
I smile. "I'm here to see Mr. Gunn."
"I don't-"
"If the Wrath is busy with him at the moment, I'll gladly wait until he's done."
Those are the magic words. The wife opens her door completely, smiling, suddenly friendly.
"Oh! Of course. Come right in. He shouldn't be long."
I nod and enter as she steps out of the doorway. From the hallway I can see a little boy playing in the living room. He looks up at me and waves, then goes back to his video game.
"Can I get you something to drink?" the wife offers graciously.
I rarely bother talking to the hired help in these sorts of places, but their mindless cheer is refreshing after Pryce's unpredictable fear and Angel's anger. So I say, "No. But thank you. I'll just see myself to the basement. I can wait there." I'm already halfway to the kitchen.
"Just call me if you change your mind!" the wife calls after me.
For the most part, Gunn's basement is like any basement, in any normal suburban neighborhood in Gunn's home dimension. There are no strange locks on its door. I walk down its stairs and see a breaker box on one wall; a water heater in one corner.
But it's a larger basement than it should have been. It's lit by candlelight. And its farthest corners are filled with torture devices. There's a huge, metal door set between them. Flames lick through the small, grated window set in its top.
The walls and floor here are made of stone, rather than plaster and cement. It's very dark, but there's still light enough for me to see the monstruous form leaning over a man lying on a table.
That would be the Wrath. Raising a wicked-looking blade over Charles Gunn's chest.
I grab it by one massive, spiney shoulder and send it flying backwards into the wall next to the basement stairs. Light fixtures rattle and crumbled drywall showers the Wrath's slumped form.
Just the sort of dramatic effect I was aiming for.
"I lied," I say calmly, looking down at Gunn. "I'm not much for waiting. Gladly or otherwise."
[ open to Gunn ]