FIC: MC 16 Mar ’00 The Capo Of Vampires (1/?)

New York – The Early 1920s

"How much for the pair of them?"

"Ya what mate?"

Shamus O’Malley felt his hackles rise as he recognised the scrawny blonde staring at him through the speakeasy’s smoke-filled air as a bloody Brit. Quelling his distaste, he forced a smile. "How much for the two of them?" he nodded towards the blonde and brunette whores accompanying the garishly dressed gentleman pimp.

"Hold on a moment," the blonde man leaned into the brunette. He was struck by the intensity of the lithe brunette’s eyes when she glanced at him before she descended into giggles and nodded. "Five dollars for the pair," the blonde bargained.

Shamus nodded, dropping a bill on the table. "Agreed. What’s their names?" His eyes widened when the pimp told her. Strange names.

* * *

"Bloody wop bastards! And those yid buggers!" Shamus ‘Short Temper’ O’Malley glared around his surroundings. The relative luxury of his plush hotel failed to soothe him and the fine champagne he’d bought tasted like ashes.

Suddenly his temper exploded. Snatching hold of the ice basket sat beside him, he hefted over his head and flung it into the far wall. "Bastards!"

The ice bucket smashed into the mahogany door frame just as it opened, showering his suited minion with a combination of ice cubes and water. "Bloody hell Shamus!" his side kick reproved.

"Don’t you bloody hell me!" he warned as he leapt to his feet. Vein throbbing in his forehead, he began to pace the spacious suite, trampling the expensive Persian carpet underfoot. After a few minutes he stopped and spun to face his second in command. "Are they here?" his minion fidgeted from foot to foot. "I asked you a question damn it!"

A nervous look on his face, his fellow gangster nodded. "They’re here, downstairs," his underling said before hesitating. "Do we really have time? Shouldn’t we be getting our arses out of town before-."

"Before those wop bastards catch up with us?" he interrupted, stepping into his second-in-command’s space, forcing the other man to retreat. "You think I’m scared of a bunch of dumb guineas and goddamn yids do you?"

His minion swallowed and shook his head. "O..of course not," his fellow Irishman stuttered. "But it would be smart to get out of town for a few months to re-group."

Calming himself by reminding himself that he had few enough of his men left, he nodded. "Aye, right enough," he stalked onto the balcony and looked out onto the moonlit New York skyline, seeing the familiar landmarks for perhaps the last time. It was an effort but he managed to force down the lump forming in his throat. This was his town, damn it. Luciano, Lansky, Siegel, and Adonis, they’d all pay. "But I want one last taste of the Big Apple before I leave." He glanced over his shoulder and back towards his minion. "You find the whores I wanted?"

After a second his subordinate nodded, his face still reluctant. "A blonde and a brunette like you wanted. The brunette’s a real exotic looking tart, but the blonde," his fellow hoodlum shook his head. "She’s a real nice piece and no mistake." The man hesitated. "But the brunette’s an English bint."

O’Malley slowly grinned. Better and better. After the past few weeks he had the urge to beat someone up. And who better than an English scrubber? "Fine by me," he licked his lips "What are their names?"

"Their names?" His fellow hoodlum’s face creased in thought. "They were real unusual, I know that. What was it now?" the thug’s face cleared. "Ah, that’s right. Drusilla and Darla."

* * *

Milltown, 2000

"What a fucking shithole!"

"No Faith," Xander muttered under his breath, "tell me what you really think." He winced when Faith punched him affectionately in the arm. Even her playful blows hurt like hell. He pulled into the town’s only hotel’s parking lot. Although calling the place a hotel was over-stating it. It was better described as a rather forbidding, gothic-looking boarding-house.

"I think it’s peaceful," Tara loyally defended him from the back of the car.

Xander smirked. "See," he stared smugly at his girl-friend. "Tara likes it."

"Uh," Faith whispered in his ear. "Tara thinks you walk on freakin’ water. Big surprise she’s on your side. If she was straight, you’d be under lock and key boy." Faith chuckled throatily. "Hell, I might get you a leash anyhow."

"Yeah," Xander shuffled uncomfortably under his Slayer’s mocking gaze, all too aware she was more than capable of following through on her playful threat. Cheeks blazing, he glanced around.

He inwardly admitted that both of his companions had a point. The tiny town he’d chosen was some fifty miles away from New York and looked like it was stuck in a time warp from the early twenties. A tourist hotspot it wasn’t, with little in the way of attractions and far off the beaten track.

Which was why he’d chosen it. Just somewhere quiet they could kick back and recuperate after the last few hectic weeks. They deserved that. He turned to his companions. "We getting out?"

"Sure," Faith nodded. As he exited the car, he felt a hand on his arm. Turning, he saw his girl-friend smiling up at him. "Thanks for this lover." Faith ran her free hand up his neck before pulling him down into a long, passionate kiss, her tongue sliding into his mouth and his into hers. His girl-friend didn’t pull away until he’d started to gasp for air. His Slayer trailed her fingers down his face, an affectionate half-smile playing on her full, heart-shaped lips before she spoke. "Last one in pays the bill!" Faith laughed before rushing inside.

"Slayers." Shaking his head in amused bemusement, he chased his giggling lover inside. "Can’t live with ‘em, wouldn’t want to to try."

He raced inside the building to find a shadowy, cold-coloured reception room, filled with antique furniture. Xander moved over to the front desk where Tara and Faith were arguing with a tall, watery-eyed man in his late fifties with wispy grey. "No I’m sorry," the man spoke in a nasal whine that put him in mind of castrated weasels. "We’re not taking guests right now."

"Why the fuck not!" Faith demanded with all the diplomacy of a third world dictator.

The boarding house owner recoiled at his girl-friend’s fury but remained firm. "I’m afraid I don’t hire out to teens."

"What ya think we’re gonna wreck the place?"

"This is what comes of dressing like a Hell’s Ang-," he broke off at Faith’s less than playful glare. "Sir, my sister, girl-friend, and I have been on the road for several hours, we just want to rest for a couple of days, please."

After a second the older man sighed, his weathered face breaking into a grimace. "Very well. Rooms 3 and 4 are free."

"Thanks a lot." Xander forced a smile. He’d never seen such crappy service, a hotel owner so unwilling to make some money. They were so unfriendly they were practically French. Well except for the fact the owner had checked out neither of his companions. Which was definitely UnFrench. He took the rusted keys the owner had tossed onto the worn counter. "How much?"

"How many nights?"

"Uh," Xander thought briefly. He had been planning on staying for a week but given the welcome he decided to cut the visit short. "Four nights."

"One double, one single, four nights." Xander waited patiently for the oldster to calculate the difficult maths. "Five-twenty."

"Okay," Xander dumped the required notes on the counter. "Thanks a lot." Placing his arms around his girls’ shoulders, he led them upstairs.

* * *

Sid shook his head as the good-looking boy guided his two beautiful companions up the winding stairwell that led to the second floor. He’d tried to dissuade them but would they listen? "Kids today," he whispered before wiping a tear away. It was his family or them, not really a choice. "I’m sorry," he muttered before reaching for the phone and dialling a hated number. After a few rings the phone was answered. "Hello, Mr. O’Malley?"

"Aye that it be," a voice filled with false cheer replied. "And who’s calling me this fine day? So early in this fine day?"

"Yes sir," Sid shuddered at the implied threat in the town owner’s voice. "It’s Sid Carter, sir."

"Ah yes, Sid." There was a pause. "And how are those pretty grand-daughters of yours?"

A chill settled on his chest, constricting his heart. "F…fine, sir," he stuttered. "Sir, I’ve had two new arrivals you might be interested in. Two beautiful young women."

"Really, do tell?"

FIC: MC 14 Mar ’00 The Capo Of Vampires (2/?)

New York, 1920s

O’Malley’s mouth dried as his subordinate ushered the night’s entertainment into his hotel quarters, closing the door behind him. "Stay there," he ordered as he strode over to the two tarts.

He smiled in appreciation as he encircled the two whores, his practised eye drinking them in. The blonde was the smaller of the two with golden, mid-back length hair, shining blue eyes, full, glossy lips, and a curvy, full body. The brunette was twirling her raven-dark hair in her long, almost skeletal fingers. Her sharp features were striking rather than beautiful and her body bordered on the scrawny, but her pool-like eyes were enchanting. They’d definitely do.

* * *

Darla hid a smile as the gangster approached. She’d been intrigued when Drusilla had started babbling about ‘the bad man who made the stars scream and painted ladies bleed’. Deciding on a whim to see if the man was worth turning, she’d allowed Drusilla to guide her to a busy speakeasy where they’d waited around for a few nights with William serving as their pimp, discreetly feeding on the way there. After three nights they’d been picked up tonight by the man Dru had dubbed as ‘The Starry Man’s Hush Hush Helper’. And now they were here.

At first glance the Irish thug had little in common with her Angelus save for his wide shoulders. While her childe even as a human had moved with an easy grace, this man was a compact bull of barely controlled energy. Angelus had been a darkly handsome hunk of a man, um she shivered at just the memory, this hoodlum was coarse-featured with a squashed, boxer’s nose.

And yet, Darla smiled, there a familiar aura of darkness around him that had been one of the things, apart from his eyes and muscles that had initially attracted her to Shamus. "What the fuck you grinning at bitch!" The hoodlum threw a punch at her.

"That’s naughty!" She scolded as she caught the man’s back-handed slap a good foot from her face. The man’s eyes widened as he attempted to pull loose, and his mouth opened. Darla cut off any shout for help by grabbing him around his throat and squeezing. "Oh gran-mummy!"

Darla glanced over her shoulder and scowled. If Dru’s visions weren’t occasionally helpful and her ideas about torture innovative, she’d have staked her herself. "I’ve told you not to call me that," she scolded. "Now, go and join William. Have some fun with the hoodlums. But don’t leave any alive."

The insane vampire giggled and fluttered her long eyelashes. "Am I getting a new uncle?"

Darla glanced at the purpling man, her lips pursed in thought. He didn’t catch her heart like Angelus had, but the darkness around him was enticing. Finally she came to a decision. "I’m going to turn him," she morphed into her demonic face, enjoying the stench of the thug’s urine as he wet himself and the increasing terror in his eyes. "And leave him behind."

Drusilla laughed. "Oh such havoc!"

* * *

The moment Drusilla danced back into the room, Spike moved. Throwing aside his cards, her childe leapt to his feet, grabbed the gangster sat to his right and snapped his neck before punching the man opposite in the face, driving his nose into his brain. The one to her childe’s left started to stand, his hand dipping into his jacket for a gun.

Before he could draw it she was on him, grabbing the hand and sinking her fangs into his neck from behind. The man let out a girlish gasp, his body convulsing as the blood pumped from him and into her mouth. In seconds he was drained. She dropped the corpse on the ground and smiled coyly at her childe. "Give us a kiss William."

"I’ll give you a kiss princess." Her beloved child grabbed her by the shoulders and savagely kissed her, his hands knowingly probing her dirty, tempting body even as he eagerly licked up the blood covering her lips. Finally he pulled away. "Where’s grand-mummy?" Spike asked.

"Ah naughty William," Drusilla giggled. "You know she doesn’t like that name. She’s making us a brand new uncle." She laughed and began to spin around. "Oh the blood!"

* * *

Milltown, 2000

Xander looked around his hotel room. The place was so depressing it reminded him of living back home with his parents. He turned to his girl-friend, noting her upturned nose, and Faith never had an upturned nose, he spoke. "Want to go out?"

"Fuck," Faith nodded. "You bet!"

Xander hid a grin at his girl-friend’s enthusiasm. She wasn’t one to hide her feelings, that was for sure. "Let’s get Tara."

Faith grinned at him. "One thing though."

"What’s that?"

Faith nodded to the four-postered bed. "How strong do you think that bed is?"

Xander gulped. Something about the glint in his girl’s eyes told him that he’d soon find out.

* * *

A few minutes later, Faith, her honey, and her best bud were outside Milltown’s only café. Faith stared with disdain at the eating establishment’s grime covered windows. "They really make an effort around here don’t they?" she shook her head. If her belly wasn’t growling so damn much, she’d club X to the ground, drag him and Tar to the car and head to the nearest town.

Inside, the eatery was plain but clean. Bland was definitely the word, she only hoped the food was at least filling, she was pretty damn sure it wouldn’t be exceptional. "You want a table?"

Faith glanced at the chubby, featureless waitress. "Yes please," Xander put in.

"Follow me," the middle-aged, frizzy haired waitress ordered. Without waiting to see if they obeyed, the woman turned and walked through the café floor filled with chipped, worn tables populated by a selection of young and middle-aged working-class men.

Faith looked around as they followed the waitress. Instead of her usual expected attention of leers and lewd remarks from the café’s other patrons, their gazes all stayed fixed on their own plates and their muted, listless conversation. As they sat down on their offered table, Faith realised her disdain had turned to unease. She wasn’t the most sensitive of people, but this town somehow reminded her of Sunnydale. Unlike Sunnyd, there wasn’t an air of oblivion circling over Milltown, it was more like an air of despair. But what had caused it?

"What do you want?" demanded the waitress in a tone that suggested she’d learnt her waitressing skills from Ally’s fav British comedy ‘Fawlty Towers’.

Shoving aside the painful pang that always accompanied reminiscences of her only real parent, she spoke. "What’s on the menu?" The café employee wordlessly pointed to a blackboard by the restaurant’s counter. Faith blinked as she read its meagre contents. "That’s it?"

"That’s it," the waitress confirmed in a flat tone before pulling a pencil and notepad

out of the apron straining to hold onto her distended belly. "What it’ll be?"

"We’ll have," Xander peered at the board. "Three coffees, two beef burgers, and one salad sandwich."

Faith opened her mouth to share her unease "You think-."

Faith was momentarily blinded by a flash from a camera. "Welcome to Milltown!" a tall, gaunt man with the features and dress sense of a scarecrow. "I’m Jeff Stevens," the camera flashed again. "You need any photos," the camera flashed again and a business card dropped on the featureless table, "to chronicle your visit to Milltown, I’m your man."

Xander was between them and the man in a second. "Not interested. Leave."

* * *

"Here are the photographs," O’Malley hid a smirk when Stevens wiped away the sweat dripping from his forehead, savouring the terror his power and control gave him over the puny humans.

His attention was diverted when he glimpsed the photographs. "Nice, very nice." He smiled at the photograph of the blonde. She’d be a welcome addition to his whorehouse. His mouth dried at the next photograph. Hand shaking, he lifted the photograph of the brunette off the table for closer inspection. The sultry beauty had suffered, her eyes told him that. But she’d fought back, she was a survivor, no one had managed to break her. But he would, the last time he’d seen eyes like that had been in the 50s, it had taken him three weeks to break their owner, make their eyes lose that fire. "I want them both."

"And the kid?" It was Lonnie Roxton who questioned him.

He glanced at his second in command to the right. "Him?" he shook his head, the boy already dismissed as unimportant. "Kill him."

FIC: MC 17 Mar ’00 The Capo Of Vampires (3/?)

New York, 1920s

O’Malley snarled as his eyes shot open. Everything came back to him in a rush, the blonde whore who’d turned into something monst-. No, he smiled as his demon embraced him, not monstrous at all. Something magnificent and powerful that towered over all man. He was a vampire.

A smile cutting his face in two, he leapt to his feet. Everything seemed somehow more alive. The colours seemed more vibrant, the smells more distinctive, and the sounds floating in from the outside street much louder.

And there was something else. A gnawing emptiness in the pit of his stomach. He growled hungrily as he made his way through to the adjoining rooms. He was disappointed to find the drained corpses of his guards even as the demon within him admired the carnage wrecked. He’d have to go out for something to eat.

* * *

O’ Malley watched from the shadows as New York’s nightlife scurried by. Corpulent businessmen, aging washerwomen, armed cops, and painted whores all hurried past his hiding place, oblivious to his dark presence. Sounds of jazz bands playing and cars motoring intermingled with the stench of sewage and the smell of factory smoke in the air.

Finally he saw her, the one who would be his first. She was a pretty blonde thing, almost the twin to the bitch who’d turned him, his sire. "Oh yes," he growled deep in his throat as he started across the road.

A patrolman barged into him as he stepped out of the shadows. "Watch where you’re-." The officer’s belligerence disappeared and his ruddy complexion paled when he turned towards the lawman, his eyes flashing a warning yellow. "My mistake," the pig’s voice quavered as he stumbled backwards, practically falling over his feet in his effort to escape. "I’m sure!"

Dismissing the pig from consideration he caught up with his prey just as she passed by the mouth of an alley next to a ballroom. Seizing the proffered opportunity, he grabbed the woman by her elbow and shoved her into the alley. The blonde’s mouth opened in a scream, but he cut her off with a rough fist to the mouth that knocked her into the wall.

Even as the girl slid down the moss-covered wall, he was over her, his fangs tearing into the soft flesh of her neck. "Oh god," he moaned in ecstasy as the girl’s sweet blood bubbled into his mouth, a world superior to any venison or steak he’d ever consumed. Finally he’d drunk his fill.

After contemptuously tossing the corpse he strode out of the refuse strewn alley, his mind awhirl with plans. His first thought upon awakening had been to use his powers to take over the New York underworld. But despite his new powers he knew he’d be unable to single-handedly take on the mob’s combined might. Hopelessly out-numbered and out-gunned. Besides, his actions would only result in a public war that would only draw the attention of other demons. No, he smiled, better to carve out his own kingdom.

* * *

Milltown, 2000

"I don’t know X," Faith protested as she flanked her boy-friend, her sis stood on the opposite side as they made their way through Milltown’s deserted streets, the sun slowly setting, making the depressing town somehow even gloomier. "There’s something off about this whole place." She glanced across at Tara. "I’m right aren’t I sis?"

"There’s something wrong with the auras," Tara agreed, her soft voice thoughtful.

"What do you mean?" Xander asked, Faith recognised his tone as polite disinterest.

"They’re dull, the black ones are grey, the white ones somehow cream."

"Say what?" Faith said. "I mean comprende English?"

"Sorry," Tara smiled across at her. "I meant none of the auras are as vivid as they should be," Faith shook her head, still not getting it. "It’s like everyone’s given up."

"Sorry," Xander shook his head. "I don’t buy it. This town is just an out of way backwater-."

"Kinda like Sunnyd."

"Nowhere near a Hellmouth," Xander continued, the only clue he’d noticed her muttered interruption her boyfriend’s raised eyebrow. "These people have no excitement, no escape out of this place. No wonder they’ve given up. Come on girls," Xander grinned. "I thought you two warrior princesses were too tough to spend time looking under their beds for the bogeyman."

Faith exchanged glances with Tara and nodded. They simultaneously elbowed their companion in the ribs, doubling him up. "That’s what ya get for dissing warrior princesses," she whispered in her boyfriend’s ear before grabbing it and leading him up the steps that led up to the boarding house.

"That’s unusual," Tara commented from behind. "You doing that."

"Say what sis?" Faith glanced over her shoulder at the grinning Wicca.

"You’re not usually leading him by his ear, it’s usually something else." Tara blushed at her own innuendo, Faith just snorted.

"Am I just a figure of fun?" Xander demanded in an injured tone.

"Pretty much," Faith agreed. Just to be dutiful.

* * *

"Hello Sid," O’Malley smiled at the hotel owner, savouring the stench of fear wafting off the man. "I trust the invitation for my friends and I still stands?"

"O…of course sir," the hotel owner nodded quickly, opened the door, and stepped back, his eyes fixed fearfully to the ground.

"Good man," he stepped through the doorway, followed by the fifteen minions he’d selected for this job. Every vampire sired since his arrival in Milltown had been carefully chosen before turning, all strong men, made savage by the demons inside them. "And which rooms are our guests of honour in?"

* * *

Faith giggled with unguarded girlish glee when she rolled on top of her man in their bed, her earlier misgivings forgotten as she enjoyed being with the man she loved. "X," she muttered in her boyfriend’s ear as he tenderly massaged her back made sweaty from the hours of love-making, his touch making her blood pound. "I love-," her head jerked up as she sensed something.

Beneath her Xander pulled away from kissing her to speak. "What’s up sweetie?"

"I don’t know-," suddenly she had it. "VAMPIRES!" Even as she sprang to her feet and reached for her clothes, the door flew open and they swarmed in. Instantly she changed from reaching for her leathers to grabbing a stake. "Come on you bastards!" she screamed, conscious of Xander rising beside her.

* * *

Tara’s eyes shot open, the wards she always set before going to bed triggered by something demonic. Heart racing, she reached for her stake and stood, eyes searching for her clothes so to change out of the bedshirt she was currently wearing.

And then the door crashed open, and a quartet of vampires rushed in.

* * *

"I hate it when she’s right," Xander muttered as he drew his stake, eschewing his guns in such an enclosed space, knowing full well that he’d never hear the last of this.

If they all lived through this.

Banishing that disquieting thought, he sidestepped an onrushing vampire, leaving his stake for the vampire to run onto. A second vampire grabbed him behind, attempting to pull him into a full nelson, he instantly stepped backwards, driving his head into the demon’s face, and his foot into his rival’s cowboy boot instep. "Shit!" the demon howled as he released his grip.

Spinning around to face his rival, he blocked a left hook on his arm and grunted when the demon’s right slammed into his gut. Grateful for the cast iron abdominals that cushioned him from the majority of the blow, he faked a pained grimace and stumbled backwards.

The vampire growled victoriously before leaping at him. And onto his waiting stake. Turning, he caught a hard right to the jaw. This time his stumble wasn’t faked, he slumped against the room’s grimy window. His eyes widened when his thickly-built attacker charged him. The demon’s fireplug frame hit him like a runaway train, driving the air from his body, shattering the window, and flinging them both out of the window.

* * *

Faith’s first smoothly executed kick caught a vampire in the jaw, knocking both his head back and the accompanying leer at her nakedness off his face. Before the vampire had chance to steady himself, her stake was buried in his chest. Another demon took its place, she smoothly leg-swept its legs from beneath it, and crouched over it, slamming her stake home.

Before she had chance to rise, she caught a foot under her chin, the force of the blow knocking her head back. Shaking it off, she grabbed the demon’s ankle and twisted. The vampire grunted and fell, crashing into the dressing table, knocking it down on top of him. Faith rolled forward to the demon’s side, flung the table off the demon, and winked at the stunned vampire. "Sorry about this," she drawled before thrusting her stake into her rival’s chest.

Upon rising, she blocked an overhand right to her face on her forearm before kicking her assailant in the balls. As the vampire doubled up she slammed her stake into its back, turning it to dust. Moving on, she slid away from a right cross, grabbed her attacker’s wrist and yanked him onto her stake. "Fish, barrel," she muttered.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw her boyfriend and the vampire he was wrestling with tumble out of the window. Heart racing, she spun around. "X!" she screamed.

And then something crashed into her head, knocking her unconscious and to the ground.

FIC: MC 16 Mar ’00 The Capo Of Vampires (4/?)

Milltown, 1920s

Lonnie Roxton whistled cheerfully as he made his way through his hometown’s darkened streets, his pockets stuffed with money but secure in the knowledge that nobody would dare try and rob the boot-legging king of Milltown.

Not that he intended to be the rest of his life in Milltown. No, he smirked to himself, he was a man going places, a big wheel, a man with plans. He was going to become the head of a syndicate outpost, and eventually get onto the organisation’s ruling board. Oh yeah, he was gonna be somebody and soon.

His scheming was interrupted by the sound of a foot scraping the ground in the shadows to his right. Turning, he headed into the darkness, his hands reaching into his jacket, to the cosh in his pocket. "Who’s there?" he demanded, his voice hoarser than it should have been.

"Only me."

Roxton stared at the short, powerfully built man lounging against the wall of the town’s only boarding house. He didn’t recognise him, but the stranger’s pugnacious jaw and cold, beady eyes were enough to mark his type. "This town’s taken," he growled, his fists clenched and own jaw jutting out in a gesture of superiority. "I run it."

The interloper’s sneer only widened. "Are you sure about that?"

"Aye laddie." Pulling out his cosh, he backhanded it at the newcomer’s head. "I am!"

His mouth dropped open when the smaller man’s hand lunged up in a lightning move to grab hold of his wrist. He attempted to pull loose but it was like trying to pull his hand out of quick-setting cement. Heart racing, he threw a punch at his opponent’s sneering face. He moaned when the man grabbed his fist and squeezed, the crushing pain forcing him to his knees. He looked up in disbelief at his rival. "I think," he could have sworn that his rival’s eyes briefly flashed yellow, "this is my town now. What do you think?" Too frightened to speak, he simply nodded. "Good." His attacker released his grip. He moaned as the blood returned to his hand. The shorter man turned away from him. "Follow me."

His mind still reeling, he stood and staggered drunkenly after the man. After a few seconds he’d recovered enough of his nerve to draw his flick knife. The moment the blade clicked out, the man spun out to face him, his mocking sneer not shifting an inch. "Have you not learnt your lesson yet?"

"You’ll be the one learning a lesson!" he blustered as he slashed at his rival’s face. His opponent slid beneath his attack, stepped towards him, and smashed a right into his stomach.

The bootleg liquor he’d earlier drunk vomited out of his mouth, splattering the ground as he fell to his knees. He reached blindly for his dropped knife only to scream in pain when his opponent stamped on his fingers, shattering bone. "I did warn you."

Suddenly the stranger had hold of him by his collar. In an inhuman display of strength his conqueror lifted him to arm’s length. He struggled for a few seconds, punching desperately at his assailant but to no avail. "What are you?" he gasped.

"My name is Shamus O’Malley," he whimpered deep in his throat when the man’s eyes turned yellow, his teeth elongated, and his brow ridged. "And I’m a vampire. Do you understand who your boss is now?" he nodded. The demon smiled. "Excellent. Now, tell me about your police contact?"

* * *

Milltown, 2000

O’Malley stared in disbelief as he crouched over the naked and very nubile teen lying unconscious on the hotel room’s threadbare carpet. In the flesh she was even more beautiful than in her photograph, but that wasn’t what concerned him. She’d killed five of his men, five of his hand-picked men, on her own. And her boy-friend had killed two vampires and their companion two before being subdued. "What," he ran a finger down the unconscious beauty’s neck, "are you?"

Shaking his head, he straightened and looked at one of his surviving minions. "Cuff her," the chains he’d brought to shackle the two bitches had been for purely psychological reasons, to show them the hopelessness of their positions. But now, the chains had taken on a grimmer purpose. "And," he turned to the other two vampires. "Make sure the bitch’s man is dead!"

Shaking his head, he stormed off. Oh he’d have answers. These two sluts would scream them.

* * *

Xander winced as glass shards tore into his back. Shaking his pain off, he wrapped his legs around his opponent’s ample body and twisted so he was on top. Even so, the sudden landing jolted his entire body. "Thanks for softening," he punched the snarling vampire beneath him in the face, "the landing." He thrust his stake into the demon’s heart.

His body aching, he rolled off the vampire as it exploded into dust. For a second he lay on his back, looking up at the night sky in bewilderment. What was happening? How did those vampires get into their hotel rooms? How did they know they were here? How were they so damn organised?

Realising such questions would have to wait, he leapt to his feet and started towards the building. And stopped. "Damn it!" he hissed, his jaw tightening. He couldn’t just run in there, he didn’t know how many he was facing, and with Faith and Tara possible prisoners, he could get them hurt. But he couldn’t-, he shook his head. He had to. "I love you," he whispered. "I’ll be back." Turning, he started for the surrounding hills, the cold winds cutting at his naked body. He comforted himself with the thought that once he had time, he’d pull some clothes out of the Always Pocket, and dress.

* * *

"Which way did he go?" one of the two suited vampires asked as the two demons traipsed through the wooded copse.

"I don’t know," the other replied, "I can smell him everywhere, but haven’t seen anything of him."

"Well," the first peered towards the horizon. "It’s nearly dawn, we’ll have to head back soon."

"The boss will be pissed," commented the second.

"Personally speaking," their heads snapped up to the shotgun-wielding man stood in the trees. The young man smiled down at them. "I’d be more worried about me." Both demons started towards the man only to be hit by the incendiary ammo tearing through the bodies.

* * *

Xander quickly climbed out of the tree, grimacing as the two vampires exploded into dust. He had wanted to take prisoners for interrogation, find out who he was up against, but two gun-toting vampires were too much of a threat to mess about with. His only option was, he turned back towards the town, the hotel.

* * *

"What do you mean they haven’t come back? It’s daylight!"

Faith groaned as the hoarse voice boomed outside the room, awakening her. She grinned as the import of the words struck her, X was still alive and kicking ass. "You go baby," she muttered.

Her good mood disappeared when she realised her own predicament. Naked and chained to a chair. "Great," she muttered, "I’m stuck in some perv’s S&M wet dream, like that hasn’t happened before." Her heart dropped when she looked to her right to see Tar beside her, similarly fastened to a chair with the addition of a gag in her mouth. "So no spells from Glinda then," Faith muttered, more than a little worried by the egg-sized bump over her big sis’ left eye. She felt like shit but she knew Slayer healing would kick in soon.

If she lived that long.

The door to the cold, dank room crashed open and a fireplug of a man with coarse features and heavy, satanic eyebrows bustled in. The brutish man’s, Faith’s blood chilled, oh crap he wasn’t a man, he was a vampire, mouth twisted in a sneer. "Oh, sleeping beauty’s awoken," the demon taunted. "Ready for our party."

"Our invites must have got lost in the post." The demon’s back-handed slap knocked her head to the side. "Shit man," she drawled as she shook her head clear, "my dead mom hit harder than you."

The monster momentarily vamped out before turning to its human face. "You killed five of my men bitch. What are you?"

"Me," Faith debated against telling the man, then decided fuck it, might as well scare the shit out of him. "I’m a Slayer."

The vampire took a step back, his eyes filling with fear, before shaking his head and laughing. "The Slayer’s in Sunnydale."

Faith’s eyes flickered with irritation. Oh yeah, everyone’s heard of B. "No you dumbass," she smiled sweetly at the demon’s growl, "the Slayer who bones demons is in Sunnydale. Me, I’m the hot one with great taste in boy-friends. I’m not fussy, only have two rules in honeys, they’ve gotta be taller than me and non-demonic." She winked seductively at the demon. "Looks like you flunk out on both counts."

"Who is your boyfriend?" The demon growled.

Faith laughed. She knew pissing the boss vamp off wasn’t a good idea, but she’d never learnt when to keep her mouth shut. "I call him X, but you can call him death."

The demon’s repeated blows knocked her back into unconsciousness.

FIC: MC 14 Mar ’00 The Capo Of Vampires (5/?)

Milltown, 1920s

"Chief. Norris?"

Norris looked up from his desk positioned at the front of the station, his eyes narrowing at the terrified expression on the usually composed dandy’s face and the mangled condition of the crook’s rapidly swelling hand. "What’s up Lon?" he asked. "Pay-offs aren’t ‘til Tuesday."

"What?" The local crime boss looked briefly confused before shaking his head. "No." Roxton shuffled his feet slightly before replying. "I’ll be needing to speak to you outside."

Ah, Norris nodded in sudden understanding. His extra services were needed. Either a whore had got out of line or more likely to judge from the criminal’s rapidly purpling hand someone was attempting to muscle in on Milltown. He took a minute to fasten his gunbelt over his heaving waist before standing. "How many?"

"What?" the career criminal shook his head. "No, it’s nothing like that. Just come outside," the crook pleaded.

His skin crawling at the nervous urgency in his companion’s voice, he discreetly unfastened his holster flap before glancing over his shoulder to the inner office. "I’ll just be attending to some private business." His two subordinates sharing the night-shift with him nodded and grinned, obviously anticipating him sharing out the pay-offs with them later. Finally he turned back to his contact. "Let’s go."

* * *

O’Malley watched from the shadows as Roxton led the patrol officer out of the police station. "Like lambs to the slaughter," he chuckled deep in his throat as he inspected the law officer, a tall, thickly-built man with a ruddy face, balding head, and dangerous eyes.

Readying himself, he stepped out of the darkness. "Hello," he politely greeted.

The two men started at his sudden appearance. "This town is taken," the thickly-built law officer growled, his hand hovering over his holster.

"I know," he nodded before pausing. "By me."

"Like hell!" the cop’s hand dipped into his holster. The gun was only half out of the holster when he grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted, the bone’s snap sounding like a TNT explosion in his newly enhanced ears. "AHHHHHHH!"

The man’s scream caused him to vamp out. O’Malley smiled at the policeman’s terrified eyes. "Maybe you will like hell," he whispered in the man’s ears. "Tell me when you get back." Plunging his fangs into the man’s throat, he drained him of his precious lifeblood before forcing him to drink and dropping his corpse to the ground.

Turning, he smiled at a whimpering Roxton. "You don’t like my face?" he fake-pouted. "I’m hurt," he stalked the retreating pale-faced man. "I’m rather proud of it. As will you be." Leaping into the air, he caught the man in the chest with his knees, knocking the criminal to the ground with him on top. The desperate-eyed crook threw a right hook that bounced harmlessly off his face before he drove his fangs into the man’s neck and drunk. The writhing man’s wild struggles tapered off as death approached. Quickly re-opening a vein, he allowed some blood to drip into his victim’s mouth.

Hearing the man’s dying heartbeat, he stood, reached down, and lifted his newly-created childe off the ground before doing the same with the police officer. Humming a cheerful tune, he started through the darkened streets, peering for some deserted place to await his fellow vampires’ awakening.

* * *

"Arggh!"

"Raaaw!"

O’Malley smirked as his two children awoke, their true faces showing. "Are you hungry?" He had to repeat his question three times before his two childes turned towards him and nodded. "Good, in that case follow me."

By the end of the night, the town would be his.

* * *

Milltown 2000

O’Malley felt the demon within him rage as he pounded the helpless brunette, his heavy fists shattering her face. A Slayer in his town? How was that possible? He’d been especially careful to ensure his discreet operation never came to the attention of either the government, the Council, or other demons.

Realising the girl had passed out under his assault, he grabbed a handful of her lustrous black hair and lifted up her battered face for inspection. He scowled as he realised that her broken nose, fractured jaw and left cheekbone, would soon mend thanks to her Slayer healing. He had to fight the urge to drag the bitch down to his cellar and spend a pleasurable few hours making her regret her smart mouth. But she was his bait for her blasted boyfriend and couldn’t be permanently harmed, yet.

After all, he smiled as he walked out of the room, seeing her boyfriend’s corpse would be a far effective way of breaking her. And then his fun would really begin.

* * *

Sid listlessly dumped the wrecked furniture from the kids’ room into the trash outside. What a mess, he’d secretly rejoiced when the demons had been killed, but O’Malley had been furious, grabbing him by the throat, pinning him to the wall and demanding to know who his guests really were. The boss had let him go, but he knew that once he’d destroyed those poor girls he’d be back. If only he’d the nerve to grab his family and run.

He gasped when a strong arm looped around his neck from behind, cutting his air off. "I really hope you’ve got a good reason for selling us out to vampires," his ambusher whispered before dragging him towards the hotel, kicking the door open, and flinging him onto the kitchen floor.

* * *

The instant his captive hit the floor, he started to climb up. Xander waited until he reached his knees before driving a foot in his ribs, doubling the aging man up. "Stay down," he ordered, his emotionless voice hiding his distaste. He didn’t like what he was doing, but it was important that the hotel owner was more scared of him than the vampires. "You really don’t want to give me a reason to hurt you. Not after you sold us out to those vampires." He sat on the kitchen’s solitary chair. Noting the man eyeing the inside door, he shook his head. "Don’t, not if you want to walk ever again."

"W..what do you want?" the older man’s voice quavered as he looked up from his position on the tiled floor.

"World peace, my own sitcom, Jennifer Love-Hewitt’s phone number," he winced inwardly. Better not let Faith hear that. "But most of all," he cocked his Mossberg shotgun. "I want to know where my girls are and why you," he pointed the muzzle at the trembling hotelier. "You sold us out."

"They’ll kill me," his prisoner whimpered.

"And you think I won’t?" Xander bluffed, bile rising in his throat. "Only reason you’re still breathing is because I need information. Now talk, or scream."

"W…what do you want to know?"

Well that was easier than he’d expected. "Who’s boss vampire around here?"

"H…his name is Shamus O’Malley, he was some big shot gangster in 1920s New York who got turned and came here, he turned the top thug and police chief in one night, killed everyone else who might challenge him. Since then," the man used his shirt sleeve to wipe his tearing eyes

"Why did no one run, during the day?" Xander’s fury was slowly being replaced by curiosity.

"In the early days it was said some did," the hotelier sniffed. "But at night they caught up with them, brought them back and tortured them to death in the middle of town, made every one watch. No one ran after that."

"No," Xander resisted the urge to shudder. "I don’t suppose they did." He crouched over the man. "So how does this racket run? What’s O’Malley’s weak points?"

"I’m not talking." The hotel owner shook his head, his eyes wild with terror. "They’ll kill me."

"Listen," Xander fought back his impatience. "I’m your last chance to get rid of these asses. You help me, I fail, they’ll never know you helped me. You don’t help me." Xander smiled. "You really don’t want to consider that option."

A desperate hope flickered in the man’s eyes. "W…what do you want to know?"

"Okay," Xander took a second to order his thoughts. "How many vampires are there? What are the town rules? What are his weak points? Where will my girls be?"

"Okay," after a second the man began to talk.

And Xander began to plan.

FIC: MC 14 Mar ’00 The Capo Of Vampires (6/6)

Milltown, 1920s

Patrolman McTavish looked up at the opening of the station’s front door and smiled in recognition. "Sir!" he greeted the chief, ignoring his two companions; the dandy bootlegger and a thickly muscled stranger. "Where have you been?" he stepped around the counter, eyes widening in worry. "And why are you so pale?"

"Norris." He was briefly shocked by the stranger’s casually disrespectful use of his superior’s surname. His shock deepened at the intruder’s next words. "Kill them all."

Even as his mouth opened to demand what was going on, his superior’s face turned to something deformed. He opened his mouth to scream. And then his superior leapt on him.

* * *

O’Malley laughed as Norris eagerly jumped onto his fellow officer, knocking him to the ground. He turned to an impatiently pacing Roxton and smirked. "Follow me, laddie," he ordered. He laughed again when his childe’s eyes flashed with eagerness. "There’s murder to be done and blood to be drunk!"

As they reached the inner office, a door swung open and a buxom blonde stepped out. "Mine!" He reached her a half-second before his childe, slamming his soon to be victim into the wall, her eyes widening in horror. His childe snarled in disappointment before pushing past him into the office beyond. "Now my sweet," he pressed a finger to the woman’s sobbing lips, savouring her terror. "It won’t hurt." He smiled. "Me."

In seconds he had drained the girl. Throwing aside her corpse, he started into the office to find his childe had already downed two pigs and was wrestling with a third. But at the far end of the office, a pale faced patrolman was attempting to aim his shaking gun at his childe. Snarling viciously, O’Malley leapt over the nearest desk and raced towards the man.

Eyes widening, the policeman spun to face him and fired. O’Malley groaned as the bullet tore through his side, just above his left hip, but continued his charge despite the pain flaming through him. Snatching hold of the cop by his throat, he slammed his rival’s head against the wall, his skull making a sort of slapping sound as it cracked. Flinging the bleeding man to the ground, the pugnacious cop attempted to lift his revolver. O’Malley responded by stamping on his rival’s wrist, the bone shattering like kindling.

The heavy gun dropped to the ground. The increasingly desperate law enforcer scrabbled wildly for the weapon but O’Malley knocked it away before grabbing the man around his throat and squeezing. The purpling policeman hit him with an increasingly weakening barrage of punches before finally gasping his last.

Satisfied, he stood, turning to see his blood drenched minions observing him. "This all of them?"

Norris shook his head. "Two off duty and two patrolling."

O’Malley smiled. "Good, I’m in the mood for a massacre. We’ll turn those on patrol," he paused as he thought of something. "There’s someone else we’ll have to visit too."

* * *

"Mayor! Mayor!" Norris thumped repeatedly on the house’s door. O’Malley looked around, there weren’t many prosperous houses in Milltown, but this three storey house was definitely the grandest of them all. He thought he’d keep it for himself.

After a few seconds the door flew open to reveal a fat, ruddy-faced man wearing a navy blue bedshirt. "Good gracious Norris!" The Mayor’s florid face paled at their blood drenched clothes. "What’s happened?"

Norris looked left and right in the darkness before replying. "Trouble Mayor, can we come in?"

"Of course you can Norris!" The Mayor exclaimed.

"And my friends?"

"But of course, but," the Mayor peered out of the house and over the officer’s burly shoulder, his eyes widening in terror. "Hurry inside! One can’t be too careful!"

O’Malley hid a smile. "No you don’t," he agreed before stepping over the threshold, the invitation enough to remove the invisible barrier. "One can never be too careful. And unfortunately," the Mayor’s face yellowed and his mouth opened in a wordless scream that O’Malley shut off by snatching hold of the public official and viciously snapping his neck. "You weren’t." He turned to face his two eagerly awaiting minions. "Bring his family," he yawned. "It’ll be light soon. We’ll spend the day entertaining ourselves with them." He smiled to himself as his two minions scurried off to fulfil his orders. His own town, his own little empire.

* * *

Milltown, 2000

Xander watched as the oblivious vampire continued to patrol the outskirts of the cattle ranch that provided the town with most of its meat. This, the timber yard, plastics factory, local radio antenna, and grain farm were the lifeblood of the town, and as such were guarded zealously by O’Malley’s minions. At least they were until tonight.

He’d spent the night moving from target to target, wiping out the guards O’Malley had left there and planting some nasty surprises to be opened at sunlight. He wished he’d had time to call for back-up, but that might have taken a day to get here, and there was no way he was leaving his girls in some vampire’s hands for a second longer than needed.

He’d like to get closer to his target, but daren’t, wary of the vampire’s sense of smell and hearing, he lifted and sighted his crossbow, aimed and fired. The bolt flew true, slamming into the demon’s heart. The vampire threw up in its arms, his mouth opened but before it could cry it exploded into dust. Xander glanced to the left and right, satisfied there weren’t any more vampires on guard duty, he ran through the shadows and placed his present carefully in position.

Looking up, he saw dawn was approaching. "Time to pay O’Malley a visit." Even as he muttered the words, his mouth dried in fear. While he’d needed to do what he’d spent the night doing to thin the herd and provide a distraction for his attack, he’d also hesitated about attacking O’Malley for fear of what he might find. If O’Malley had hurt his girls, he’d burn the entire town to the ground.

But that wouldn’t bring his Faith back.

* * *

O’Malley paced the living room of the three storey mansion he’d stolen from the Mayor all those decades ago, his temper rising as daylight approached. "So, your man is too much coward to come rescue you," he raged, spittle coating his jowls. "Maybe he’ll come," he grabbed the gagged witch’s hair and pulled her head back, exposing her delicious neck. "When I have the skin whipped off this little bitch’s back, and her disembowelled and hung in the centre of town?"

"You touch her," for the first time anger replaced amusement in the Slayer’s fiery eyes, "and I’ll burn your balls off with holy-, argh!"

"Shut up!" His backhanded slap snapped the girl’s head to one side and sent blood trickling down from the corner of her mouth, but didn’t even slightly dampen the fire burning in her eyes. "You little slut." He put his hands around the brunette’s slender neck and squeezed until the shackled girl was turning blue and gasping for air. "You’ll beg for death -."

Suddenly the mansion, no the whole towns was rocked by a series of explosions that almost floored him. Dazed, he looked out of the early morning to see fires dotted around Milltown. What was happening?

"Hey Tough Guy," the Slayer’s chair had fallen to the ground during the disturbance. Despite that, her eyes were once again gleaming with amusement. "Looks like X just rang your front doorbell."

* * *

By the time Xander made it to O’Malley’s base, a three-storey Georgian house in the most prosperous looking area of Milltown, the sun was rising, turning the white-washed house into a gleaming monument to evil. After a second spent staring at the building, Xander pulled out the All-Seeing Eye. "Faith," he whispered. His heart leapt when he saw his battered but alive girl-friend in what looked like to be the mansion’s dining room. A smile on his face, he turned his attention back to business. Pulling out his remote detonator, he pressed the button down, setting off the bombs he’d planted throughout the town. "That should get his attention," he murmured as the first of the bombs exploded before running at the house’s double doors, a lobbed fragmentation grenade leading the way.

Subtlety tended to be a lost art with him when his girl was threatened.

The grenade’s explosion sent the door flying inside, splinters spearing two of the three vampires waiting in the hallway, the third brought down by a Desert Eagle two shot to the head. Xander took a second to take in the dust and wood decorating the expensive pastel wallpaper and thick, fluffy carpet. "Dry cleaning this will be a bitch," he commented before starting through the house.

* * *

O’Malley’s eyes widened as his house was shook by another, closer, explosion. His head snapped towards the Slayer. "Bitch!" he screamed as he drove a foot into her face. "I’m going to bring you your boyfriend’s corpse, what do you think of that?"

Despite the blood bubbling up in her mouth, the supernatural female smiled crookedly at him. "I think my X is going to bury your miserable ass."

* * *

Xander stopped as all the lights went out. "Great," Xander muttered, his heart racing. Thanks to all the closed curtains, the entire house was plunged

Quelling the intelligent part of his brain that told him to get the hell out of Dodge, he continued through the house, blindly feeling his way. Hearing a door open ahead of him, he aimed his gun and waited. After a second the shape growled and started towards him, Xander pulled his trigger twice. The muzzle flash briefly illuminated the shadowy darkness, Xander saw glimpses of his shells exploding into the demon’s head turning him to dust.

Xander exhaled in relief. "That wasn’t so bad," he muttered before continuing on his way. A shape exploded out of the darkness, hitting him in the side.

* * *

The moment O’Malley left the room, Faith began struggling against her chains, straining her magically-enhanced muscles. She had ‘faith’ in her X, but she was also a realist, and she knew that X might fail. Even as her stomach rebelled against the thought, she continued to fight, her ears picking up the sound of the chair’s wooden arms groaning in protest.

Finally one snapped off. "Thank fuck," she gasped. With the leverage of her free arm, it was a much an easier job to get her other limbs free. In minutes she was rushing to her sis chained spread-eagled to the wall. "Hey sis," she pulled off her sister’s gag. "Finally gotta see me naked uh?"

"Not funny," Tara smiled weakly at her. "Although worth the wait."

* * *

Caught off-balance, Xander plunged to the ground. He attempted to twist to face his attacker and fire his gun at the demon but the vampire knocked his gun flying. He saw stars when his head crashed into the wall opposite. Shaking his head clear he pulled his legs up into his chest and powered his feet into the vampire’s stomach, knocking the surprised demon off.

Xander took advantage of the respite to quickly glance around for his gun. Realising it was fruitless in the dark, he rose and began to call another gun to him. He was interrupted by a right hook to the face knocking him back against the wall. "Your little girl will beg to die," the demon growled.

"Like hell," Xander attempted a kick at the vampire’s groin. His attack was blocked on the demon’s meaty thigh but he caught the demon with a straight right to the eye, the force of the blow knocking his rival back a step. Striving to take advantage, Xander advanced and threw a right hook. His eyes widened when the demon grabbed his wrist and elbow and flung him facefirst into the wall opposite. Xander groaned as he slid down the wall to the ground.

"You’re going to pay for the damage you’ve done," the vampire threatened as he approached.

"Sure I am." Xander kicked out with his left leg, the heel of his foot smashing into the surprised vampire’s knee, knocking him to his knees. Rolling up to his own knees, he drove a right into his adversary’s throat, drew his stake from his jacket’s inside pocket and plunged it home. For a second he stared stupidly at the ashes before rising. "Time to find my girls."

* * *

"Hey," Faith winked. "Right back at you." She sobered as she realised her predicament. "Sis, breaking my own chains, the beating," she winced as pain shot through her battered face, "and lack of food. I can’t break you loose, can you-."

"Aniktos." The shackles holding her sister clicked open, her shackles falling loose.

"Okay," Faith shook her head at her sis’ power. "You can. Show-off." She spun as the door re-opened. "Who the fuck?"

* * *

Xander laughed as his two friends engulfed him in a hug. "Hey two naked honeys hugging me at once," he joked. "Maybe I should get to be the conquering hero more often. Oww!" he winced as both girls simultaneously slapped his head. "Or not."

* * *

"You wrecked our to-."

The voice of the leader of the mob confronting them trailed off when Xander coolly levelled his shotgun at him. "I really don’t think you’ve got any right to be indignant," he calmly said. "After all, how many visitors have been killed while you all turned a blind eye?"

"Our town is ruined!" cried out a matronly woman in her late-forties.

"Re-build it," Xander’s tone hardened. "The moral high ground really doesn’t suit you lot." He turned to his two companions, re-dressed with clothes he’d taken out of the Always Pocket. "We’re leaving."

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