Title: Through the Looking Glass Part II
Author: MagnusXXN
Email address: MagnusXXN@Hotmail.com
 
Is the story finished? Not yet.
Fandom: Buffy the vampire slayer/Anita Blake
Spoilers: Through the whole series for far
Rating: R
Summary: Xander falls into a den of snakes.
Main characters: Xander
Disclaimer: BTVS doesn't belong to me, it's Joss Wheldon's baby as
is Angel. I don't own the Anita Blake series or the concept. . I
just own this story but I don't have any money so sue someone else.
I've changed some of the backstory of Buffy, but I'll explain it in
the story along the way.
 
 
 
Through the Looking Glass Part II
 
 
 
 
 
Blood Square, St. Louis
 
Finding the hyena was easier then they'd expected. Xander and Jason
had gotten up immediately after nightfall and went to the address
Asher had given them, as well as instructions that they couldn't
kill all the hyenas. They had to spare at least three.
 
Jason was ok with this, but Xander didn't seem too happy with the
idea of leaving an enemy alive. But once Asher explained why they
had to be kept alive he was fine with it.
 
The ride over was in silence. The two of them had too many things on
their minds to chit-chat. After a ten-minute drive they pulled up
across from the hyena's hiding place.
 
Inside an abandoned warehouse was the entire group of rouges. Even
from across the street their high-pitched laugher could be heard,
and it only pushed the dark haired hitman further into his memories.
 
The hunt, the kill, it was as fresh in his mind as it had been the
moment it had all happened. He could almost taste the blood on his
tongue, and smell the fear of his prey in the air.
 
The pleasure of it made him shudder in disgust. "We'll wait until
there is one alone. Then pick him off, quick and clean." The wolf
nodded.
 
The two of them sat in silence for the next three hours. Neither
moved from their position as they watched from the top of the
building opposite the hyena's hideout.
 
Again, no one said a word. Not just because they couldn't think of
anything to say. Jason had plenty he'd like to say, but it would do
them no good to talk so close to the were's. One of them might hear
their chatter, even from across the street.
 
Finally one of them moved away from the others and went outside. He
looked around him for a few moments before starting his way down the
street away from the hideout.
 
The two of them didn't say a word as they exited the top of the
building and started after the lone were.
 
The night was warm and sticky. Rain was coming. The pair of hunters
followed the hyena for a few blocks never making a move to attack.
That is until the rain started to fall.
 
Xander grinned viciously into the night before pulling his gun and
firing into the were's back. "Bang". And he went down like
a ton of
bricks. "Jesus." Jason muttered to himself.
 
"Grab him and pull him into the alley." The werewolf did as
he was
instructed. Grabbing the smaller man and pulling him in, the blond
were could see that the hyena was still alive.
 
He moved to snap his neck and put him out of his suffering, but was
stopped by the dark-haired ex-scooby. "No, keep him alive. Just
don't let him move."
 
Jean-Claude's pomme de sang would have asked why but quickly shut up
at seeing his partner pulling out a long sharp blade. "When he
turns, make sure he doesn't move. Understand?" Jason could only
nod.
 
As soon as the sharp knife dug into the wounded were he started to
struggle. But he was still hurt; the silver bullet had injured him
greatly.
 
His only choice was to shift. He had no idea that, that was what
they were waiting on. The wolf was much stronger then the young
hyena, that was nothing more then a submissive were. Holding him
wasn't difficult.
 
The next half hour would forever be stained into Jason's mind. Just
as it had been when Anita tortured that redneck for information on
where Richard's mother was being held.
 
The only difference was that Xander didn't want information, no. He
wanted the hyena's pelt; he was skinning the wereanimal alive. It
took all that the wolf had not to turn and puke.
 
The hyena couldn't have been more then 18 years old. More then
likely the only reason why he was following Jarod was because he was
an alpha and the young were was new to the pack.
 
But that made no difference to the blade wielded by the hitman.
Xander had forced a wet rag down the kid's throat so that he didn't
hear the screams.
 
Not that you could tell by looking at him. His face was void of all
emotion as he finally peeled the fur pelt from the kid's back.
"Now
you can kill him." The air around him seemed to chill at the
sound
of those words.
 
Jason had never really been ordered to kill before. Jean-Claude had
used him mostly to scare people, or threaten them. The only times
he'd killed was to protect himself or others.
 
But seeing the kid laying on the alley floor his back a bloody mess
the only kind thing he could do was put him down.
 
So the longhaired stripper grabbed the kid's throat between his
hands and snapped his neck. Then promptly turned and threw up beside
the body.
 
Xander sat the fur on top of the kid's corpse and walked over to his
friend. There he softly patted him on the shoulder, "Its alright.
Let it out." His tone was flat but it carried a feeling of
understanding.
 
And he did. He laid the remains of his stomach all over the alley
floor. And even when he had nothing left, the were couldn't help but
gag up a few mouthfuls of bile. It didn't make him feel better.
 
Once he was done the wolf turned to his partner, "What are we
going
to do with the body?" He questioned not having the stomach to ask
about the fur, and deep down not really wanting to know.
 
The teen got a far away look in his dark brown eyes for a few
seconds before he answered. "His pack will find him, they'll deal
with the body. Come on we've got what we need right now."
 
He then sent Jason off to get the car; when he pulled it over Xander
opened the trunk and threw the pelt in the back before getting in
the passenger seat and driving off.
 
******
 
Jean-Claude had never been a man to make idle threats. But that was
to a point.
 
When a Master of a City asked for an enemy's head on a silver
platter, they didn't mean that literally. They wanted the enemy
dead, and it didn't matter to them about their head.
 
So when his wolf and new employee came in and laid a werehyena's
blood soaked skin at his feet the only person he could blame was
himself.
 
The four hundred year old master vampire knew the young man he'd
asked to join his 'family' as it were was a professional. And
professionals do as they're told.
 
He was disgusted at the sight of the bloody fur, but at the same
time he reveled in the fact that his hitman did just as he had
ordered. "Payment on delivery." The dark haired young man
told him.
 
He'd sat the pelt on Jean-Claude's office desk in front of the
vampire. "Petite homme, we are going to have a talk about your
taste
in fur when this job is done." His French accent was as Gaelic as
ever.
 
But he was tense all of a sudden. Maybe he was tired or restless
with the danger his love was in. Or maybe seeing the bland apathy in
the face of one so young right after he'd murdered someone struck a
cord within him.
 
Out of the corner of his eye Jean-Claude could see the hundred yard
stare in his young wolf's eyes.
 
Jason might have been standing in the office with them, but his mind
was a hundred miles away. Or maybe not that far, maybe it was just
back in the alley.
 
Ignoring the two men in the office the blond-haired wolf looked down
at his hands and shuddered. There wasn't any blood on them, and his
partner had made sure he washed up before going to their master.
 
But it didn't matter if there wasn't any blood there, Jason could
still see it. Could feel it on his fingers and smell it in the air
around him.
 
He'd thought he could do this job. It'd mean more power and respect
around the circus. That he'd be more then just the master's pomme de
sang. That he would be someone to be respected.
 
But at what cost? He thought bitterly.
 
It hadn't been that hard to forget about the screams from that
redneck that he and Asher had held down. After all, that bastard had
it coming for what he'd done to Richard's mother.
 
But the hyena in the alleyway? He was just a kid. A kid who'd fallen
in with the wrong people, that was all. Jason couldn't help but
think that it could have been him in that alley.
 
He was after all a rogue werewolf now. His pack leader, his king had
thrown him out once Jason had refused to fall in line with the
others. He couldn't follow him anymore, so he couldn't be a pack
member anymore.
 
He knew of course that Richard wouldn't do the same thing to him
that he helped do to that kid in the alley, oh no. Not over leaving
the pack. But if he stuck around Anita, maybe even getting into her
bed again, then he might be punished.
 
It was a twisted joke. That his former king couldn't kill to protect
the pack, but he could to keep men away from a women that didn't
even want him anymore. And they thought he was the rogue!
 
Jason didn't even fully understand why he was willing to do this in
order to become more involved with the dealings in the circus.
Becoming a killer didn't scare him, but a murderer? An assassin?
 
And for what? Why was it so important to kill these guys before they
took over the pack from Narcissus? These weren't important
questions, or even hard ones.
 
Because he knew how important it was to get these guys. If they were
allowed to go on then the other hyenas would fall in behind them.
 
Then it would be like Raina all over again. No, it would be even
worse, because there were four hundred werehyena and only about one
hundred werewolves.
 
And they were threatening Anita and her kitties. For that alone he
would kill them. She was, well she was a lot of things to a lot of
people. But to him she would always be his lupa.
 
Richard couldn't change that, no matter how much he tried. She had
the pack's respect even more so then Richard did.
 
Jason knew all of this and was ok with it. What he wasn't ok with
was skinning a helpless kid for a thousand dollars. And he couldn't
even fault Xander for it.
 
Because he was just doing what he was told, what he thought was
right. And he was quickly becoming one of his friends. Which was
scary all by itself.
 
He wondered if this was how Anita feels about Edward. To know
despite the fact that he was her friend, that he would in fact kill
her if need be.
 
Because the blond-haired wolf had no doubt that even if Xander were
his friend if push came to shove the dark-haired young man would
kill him. Maybe even take his pelt too.
 
He stomach turned just thinking about it. At least Anita showed some
emotion afterwards. Something that told him and the others around
her that she felt something.
 
Her eyes might glaze over, and her face would go blank. But you
could still smell her emotions. Could feel the remorse just by
standing near her.
 
But not Xander. The guy had to have ice running through his veins.
His face was set in stone before he started carving into that kid,
during, and afterwards. The only emotion he showed was compassion
when I was taking it hard.
 
And that was all. It was like he didn't see anything wrong with what
they had just done. Like it was nothing out of the norm for him.
 
Finally Jason knew a little about the dark place he would see Anita
in. She could feel the angst of her actions, and knew that even if
she didn't show it that what she'd become had a price.
 
He just didn't know if he was willing to pay. Just a taste of it was
enough to choke him, and the thought of doing it again. Killing
others just because they were told to, it was enough to make him
sick.
 
This wasn't what his lupa did. And he could cope with becoming her
if he had to. But not Xander. He'd become lost in the dark with the
monsters, and if the young were had to guess, he'd been lost a long
time.
 
If he stayed, Jason knew he ran the chance of becoming just like
him. He'd seen how Asher and even Jean-Claude viewed the dark haired
teen. He'd been here only a few days and was already someone to be
counted.
 
Jason wanted that. Wanted it almost more then anything else. To be
somebody, not just a pretty face. Or just another follower in the
crowd. But he couldn't help but wonder if the price of becoming that
was too high.
 
He looked over to his partner and master after a few seconds. He'd
been so deep in thought he hadn't heard a thing the two of them had
been saying.
 
The dark-haired hitman and Jean-Claude were still debating about the
price they'd come to about killing weres. Even submissive ones.
 
"A thousand is a bit much don't you think?" The longhaired
master
vampire said with some amusement.
 
He knew he would pay what he and his young assassin had agreed too,
and he had no doubt that the young man before him knew that as well.
 
But this little argument wasn't really about money. It was about
giving Jason a few minutes to collect himself. They'd both seen how
deeply he was thinking and thought it better to let him continue.
 
It would do them no good if he cracked in the middle of their work
when others were counting on them. And if the young pomme de sang
wanted out then they'd let him out.
 
"What are you going to do with this skin, petite homme?"
The master
vampire didn't want it. He hadn't really believed that his assassin
would really bring him one.
 
But it wouldn't hurt for him to put it on one of his walls. Come to
think of it, he remembered that Anita keeps a swan's skin on one of
her walls as well.
 
But it would be in bad taste for a Master to hang an enemy's skin on
his wall. He wasn't a monster. Not that Anita was either. But his
love's tastes sometimes ran even darker then his own.
 
If someone threatened her or her kind, she'd kill them on the spot,
and hang whatever part on her wall she pleased. Much in the same way
Sylvie would.
 
The young were had once told him it made her feel better to touch
the bones of her dead enemies. That it proved to her in some way
that they were still dead. That they couldn't hurt her anymore.
 
It soothed her nightmares. Jean-Claude knew Anita had nightmares of
her own, and didn't hold it against her to do the same thing with
the swan's skin if it gave her peace.
 
But he couldn't. His nightmares were as dark and foreboding as
theirs, they just weren't about weres. So it would just be cold to
hang the hyena's skin.
 
"It's yours, petite homme. Do with it as you please."
Xander nodded,
muttering something about having it lain in salt to dry it out
before he put it up in his bedchamber.
 
The longhaired vampire had a feeling that his young hitman would do
just that.
 
It would be bad taste for Jean-Claude, but assassins were allowed
trophies of their kills. It was an unwritten rule with them, and a
written rule with the vampire council.
 
It inspired fear; to walk into a room and see it decorated with the
remains of fallen enemies. And the four hundred year old vampire
wanted Xander feared. He wanted vampires, and weres alike to tremble
at the very mention of his name.
 
The master vampire was still having problems with Belle and other
masters who still didn't think he was strong enough to hold his
city. Richard's pack helped a lot, until the ungrateful wolf king
took them.
 
That still made the Master of St. Louis furious. The only reason
Richard had the pack was because of Jean-Claude's backing. And he
knew, even if the wolf king didn't, that without the backing of a
master he'd never hold the pack.
 
But the pack wasn't the only thing he held that showed power.
 
 
His love, Anita also helped a great deal. But she was at the very
heart of it a good person. She wouldn't just kill someone because
she was told to. She needed a reason.
 
But Xander, Jean-Claude thought with a smile, Xander was a killer.
Plan and simple. It was just inside him to murder and feel no
regret.
 
Some people were like that. They'd seen too much, or their lives had
taught them to be like that. Or some who just didn't feel anything
for anyone. Stone cold killers weren't as rare as people would like
to think.
 
But ones with hidden powers were rare, and priceless. That is if
their allegiance could be bought. And with his assassin he could
show his enemies that he was not weak, that he could hold this city
and everyone in it.
 
Xander, and Jean-Claude both turned to Jason. They'd felt him stir
behind them and hoped he'd finally made up his mind. "We have to
meet the arms dealer soon." The teen told him. The werewolf just
nodded, not saying anything.
 
Both the young hitman and the vampire were disappointed, but they
had patience. They could wait it out and see where the wolf would
fall. Either on their side, or on someone else's.
 
With a dismissive wave the master vampire sent them on their way.
 
******
 
"One of the rogue hyenas was skinned, and left for dead near
their
hide out." Jamil informed his king.
 
Richard made no outward movement to show that he even heard the
information. He was too busy looking off into space, like he had
been for the last few days.
 
The dark skinned werewolf could only sigh in defeat. An attack like
this should have made his king care. It should have had him
questioning who had done it, but Richard just didn't care.
 
It was sickening in Jamil's opinion. He'd come to St. Louis because
he'd been thrown out of his last pack. The longhaired wolf hadn't
respected his king, and he refused to follow someone he couldn't
respect.
 
That's why he came here. Because from all he'd heard Richard was
someone who cared, someone you could feel honored to follow.
Bullshit.
 
He waited a few moments still hoping for a response, any response
but nothing came.
 
Without uttering another world Jamil turned and left the king's
bedchamber. He ignored the questioning gazes from his fellow pack
members, he wanted no ones company at the moment.
 
He exited the house and started to walk, not really caring where he
was going. Things had to change, the powerfully built wolf thought
to himself. Things couldn't go on like this.
 
Jamil had hope that things would have changed when Richard informed
them that they were going to Jean-Claude's a few weeks ago. They'd
thought maybe their alpha had come to his senses and was going to
make peace with the vampire master.
 
But when Sylvie inquired about it she was punished. No one had
before thought their king capable of such a thing before; how he
beat his second in command bloody and left her broken on his floor
before heading to 'The Circus of the Damned'.
 
There was no peace that night, oh no. Their king took all his wolves
away from The Master of the City, and at such an idiotic time too.
 
The vampires and Anita were in negotiations with one of their
Council members. To choose that moment to pull away all connections
with them was madness.
 
It was almost like Richard was trying to get them all killed.
 
But that wasn't the end to it either. Ties between the pack and
Anita had been cut off completely by their mad king. Jamil sneered,
as he walked, not caring what he looked like to everyone around him.
 
And to put the last nail in the coffin, Richard proclaimed Jason a
rogue wolf, packless and unwanted. His only crime was that he stood
beside Anita, and the scent of the sex they had was still in the air
around them.
 
The pack was alone now. No vampires, no leopards, and no Anita. No
allies, and more enemies then Jamil wanted to think about. The
hyenas, the growing number of rogues, stray vampires, and if Richard
had his way Anita as well.
 
Their king had gone mad. And if they stayed then the pack would
suffer under his rule, and there was nothing he could do about it.
 
Sylvie refused to proclaim herself Fenrir and fight Richard for
ownership of the pack because of a promise she made with Anita.
Shang-Da for whatever reason refuses to fight Sylvie to become
Freki, so he can't challenge the king either.
 
And Jamil being fourth on the line of succession can't do anything.
If he challenged Shang-Da there was little chance he would win. The
Asian werewolf is too powerful for him to defeat.
 
So he and the whole pack were powerless to stop their Ulfric in
anyway, and Richard seems on a one-man mission to get them all
killed. It was times like this that made him wonder why he stayed at
all.
 
He'd left his last pack for less shit then this. But he just
couldn't force himself to leave. This was his home now, and without
Richard it would be a great pack.
 
And that's what it came down too. The pack had to be saved, his
fellow wolves had to be released from their insane master. And to do
that Richard has to die.
 
***