Title: Hunter is Just Another Word For 'Slayer' Part 2/?
Disclaimer: No, the characters do not belong to me...Duh!
Pairings: Anita/Jean-Claude/Richard...so far!
“Ma petite, do not be alarmed. I am sure that it was nothing more than an over-eager beginner practising a new spell.”
Anita was pacing in Jean-Claude’s office. The vampire was seated behind his huge desk, and Richard, the last third of their Triumvirate, was lounging – as only a werewolf can – in a huge armchair on the opposite side of the desk to Jean-Claude.
Both men exchanged worried looks when Anita showed no signs of slowing or calming down.
“Anita, cherie, you’re wearing a hole in my carpet, and I only had this one laid yesterday.” Jean-Claude winced, remembering the cost, and – glancing up at Anita – just how the last one was ruined.
“It wasn’t just a spell.” Anita gestured violently, and both men ducked as the gun in her hand was swept over them. “Someone did something huge, and it wasn’t just a beginner either.”
“How do you know?” Richard asked, then cringed when she turned on him.
“It changed me.” She said simply, then went back to pacing.
“Changed you, ma petite?” Jean-Claude, usually so unflappable, growled. Someone had dared mess with his Executioner?
A quick glance at Richard showed him that the werewolf was just as angry.
“I’m stronger, faster.” Anita whirled on them. “I ripped my bedsheets today just by flinging them off to get out of bed. I ran here from my office in under fifteen minutes because I couldn’t be bothered to get my car.”
Their eyes widened, and Jean-Claude frowned and sniffed suddenly.
Richard glanced at him as Anita continued moving, apparently with too much energy to simply sit still. The vampire’s eyes had rolled up, and he was looking flushed.
“Jean-Claude?” Richard darted around to the other side of the desk, and caught the vampire as he fell out of his chair.
“…Get Jason…” Jean-Claude demanded, and Anita reached for the phone on the desk.
“There’s no time!” Richard exclaimed, noting how the vampire in his arms looked as though he was about to faint. Hesitating only slightly, he lifted his wrist to his mouth, his bone-structure shifting slightly and elongating his canines.
As he bit into his skin, the smell of blood caused Jean-Claude to focus with startling accuracy on Anita.
“Ma petite, get out of here.” She backed away, never having seen this type of intensity in the vampire’s eyes before.
“Anita, go!” Richard yelled as Jean-Claude ripped his gaze from Anita’s throat and fastened on the werewolf’s wrist with lightening speed. The executioner darted out the door, slamming it behind her and leaning on the heavy oak.
“Anita?” Micah was waiting for her. “What’s wrong?”
“Get Jason.” Anita told him, and the alpha-leopard, too startled to do anything else, turned and ran off down the corridor with supernatural speed. Her gaze fell on Nathaniel, who was as close to the wall as he could get.
“What’s going on?” The were-leopard asked, and she shrugged.
“I have no idea, but Richard’s letting Jean-Claude feed off him.” She barricaded the door with a chair, knowing that the werewolf wouldn’t need her help, and began pacing the corridor, her gun still in her hand.
“Anita?” Nathaniel questioned, and she snapped out of her thoughts, smiling gently at him when he flinched.
“Shh…come here Nate.” Anita sat down on another chair, and Nathaniel curled up on the floor next to her. Absently she carded her fingers through his long hair, and a rumbling purr emitted from him.
They stayed like that, each lost in their own thoughts, but both of them were staring at the door.
“Are you okay?” Richard asked faintly. Both the werewolf and the vampire were lying on the floor, breathing heavily. Jean-Claude had taken a lot of blood, and Richard was not only weak from the blood-loss, but – never having been fed off before – overcome by the vampire’s bite.
“Oh, cher. It is me who should be asking you that. I did not mean to take so much.”
“Have you ever heard of the Slayer?” Jean-Claude asked. Richard nodded.
“It’s just a myth, isn’t it? Something to keep creatures like us away from hellmouths?”
“Non. The Slayer exists, and I am afraid that Anita had just been activated. I caught a trace of her new power when she came in with you, but your scent disguised it. It wasn’t until ma petite was pacing, taking out her anger on the floor, and then she mentioned her advanced speed and strength…the scent was overwhelming…”
“…And you wanted to kill her.” Richard finished.
“Oui. I wanted to feed off her.”
At that moment, someone knocked on the door, and both men popped up onto their knees to peer over the desk.
“Entrez-vous.” Jean-Claude commanded, and Jason stepped into the room. His eyes were filled with worry, but, as he saw his Master and alpha physically unharmed, his eyes glinted mischievously.
“Richard, I didn’t know you swung that way.” Richard growled weakly, and fell back to the floor, disinclined to deal with an annoying pup at that precise moment.
“Jason? Why aren’t you getting ready for your shift in the Circus?” Jean-Claude asked, frowning.
“Micah.” Jason said moving to one side, and the leopard stepped out of the shadows. “He came running down and grabbed me out of my dressing room.”
“Anita sent me.” Micah rumbled, and Jean-Claude smirked faintly.
“That’s ma petite.”
“Stop calling me that!” Came another voice, and Anita pushed her way in, Nathaniel trailing closely after her. “Jean-Claude, what is going on?”
“Hang on. Do you actually need me?” Jason asked. “Looks like Richard managed to sate your…appetite.” Richard growled unseen from the floor.
“Non, merci, Jason. Go back to your work.” The wolf rolled his eyes.
“Typical. I miss all the fun around here.”
“You have a really twisted sense of fun.” Richard muttered. Jean-Claude pulled himself up, then reached down and steadied the Ulfric as he clambered to his feet. Jason threw a salute, and hurried off, already behind schedule.
“Jean-Claude…” Anita said, tapping her foot in exasperation.
“…Bien. Ma petite, you are the Slayer.”