What We Do In The Shadows: "Jen..."
Summary: There are unexpected consequences when Laszlo seeks a new human familiar...
Part LXXIX...
The old Residence, just past sunset...
"I do hope you don't mind, I've brought my own camera crew, currently documenting my own fabulous existence..." Simon Devious, seated on the couch of the fancy room, beams at an annoyed Laszlo, an unconcerned Nandor, and a glaring Nadja.
"Careful with that arc lamp, Todd." He eyes Todd, standing dourly by Samarta, adjusting said lamp. "Oh, and who might you be, sweetheart?" he eyes the Soul Doll in Nadja's arms giving him a sour look. "I sense sentience of a kind..."
"Simon the Devious, my Soul, Nadja, in doll form." Nadja lifting the Doll slightly.
"Charmed." Simon smiles, offering hand which the Doll ignores.
"Be nice..." Nadja hisses. "You and Laszlo."
"And of course, your human pets...Ginny, Jen...One foot in the grave lady..." Simon notes the presence of Ginny, Jen, Martha with friendly nods.
"Our friend's name is Martha." Nandor, stiffly. "And we prefer not to note she has the foot in the grave."
"If it brings me closer to you, Na...Master." Martha begins...
"No...Her?" Simon blinks at the pair. "Oh, Nandor...Please...Let me find someone for you. Even old Samarta the Goth here is a better match..." indicating Samarta, training video camera on him.
Martha glowering, slight growl...
"Oh, my...Down, girl." Sniffs. "Another werewolf? No, unless she's found a really excellent deodorant..." sneering tone.
"It's fine, Martha. Shut up, Simon." Nadja, firmly. "Be polite or leave."
Does seem a bit unnecessary, Simon...As was that ongoing crack at my age...Samarta frowns.
"It will not be necessary, Simon Devious. I am perfectly content with Miss Martha as my minion."
Oh...Martha, a bit downcast now...
"Oh, well...If you're just using her for food and as a slave, fine." Simon nods. "I was afraid you were considering the unspeakable horror of taking the old biddy for your Immortal mate. I mean, what was I thinking...?"
"Enough, Simon!" Nadja growls.
So there I was, alerted by this seemingly insane eccentric guy from my friend's building who was insisting they were a hunter of vampires and vampires are real, and suddenly...Thank you know who I had my camera when I decided to humor the poor schnook and make like Karl Kolchek...Samarta mentally edits her upcoming job interview.
Just gotta make sure I get a really good dusting of someone, preferably Simon...Since it would fit so well with his ranting monologues...Which like a good reporter I "uncovered" while researching the background of this bizarre affair...
Say, what if I claimed I got bit in all the excitement and turned and get the paper or station to try and have me cured...What a story! Intrepid reporter back from the Undead with proof of said Undead!
Frankly, after 1500 plus years of Immortality? I could go for a few decades of mortal. And nothing compares to the rush of uncovering a great story.
Of course, I wish I could do my greatest story...First female barbarian leader to enter conquered Rome in 410.
But, there's always historical fiction.
"Samarta? Could you please try to keep up?" Simon calls, annoyed. "Older vampires..." sigh to Nadja and Ginny. "I try to have patience and find places for them but..."
Just think Garry/Jerry/Larry from "Parks and Recreation", schnook and butt of every joke but he's winning the best life of them all...Beloved ten-term mayor, greatest in Pawnee history, fantastic family with beautiful, loving wife and daughters...
I wonder if that actor Jim O'Heir is single? I can appreciate sweet, older men, being sixteen hundred plus in a twenty year old's body who's had to put up with jerks since 400. They do say in the reviews and message boards he's as nice as his character...
"Hmmn...Oh, sorry, boss." She reaims camera.
"Yes, well getting back to the two points of our meeting here tonight..." Laszlo frowns. "Ms. Zeller, you have the closing documents...?" he turns to Ginny, who pulls forms from her briefcase.
"And we have Colin Robinson who is certified as a public notary and holds the, what is it?"
"Bar certification as a real-estate and property attorney..." Colin notes.
"Excellent and I have Count Rappula, who likewise holds a legal degree." Simon notes. Rappula stepping forward.
"Is no one going to say it?" Simon sighs, looking round...Rappula glaring at him briefly, as he pulls out various documents from a folder under arm and begins looking them over.
"It's not that unusual for a vampire to hold a legal brief..." Laszlo shrugs. "We just noted Colin Robinson holds one."
"Oh, no...I meant a black man." Simon explains, chortling.
If I didn't kinda like this place and fear that human bitch Hunter girlfriend of yours...And her ancestor and friends...Rappula frowns.
"It's all in order on our side, dude." To Colin, whom he hands documents...Colin handing him his.
"And I'm sure Rap will find yours equally so..." Simon beams as Rappula scanned the documents, reading carefully and turning to speak to Colin at a few points. "Now, as to the other point of our delightful meeting here tonight in your...What is this, anyway, the servants' quarters?"
"It is our 'fancy room' Simon Devious..." Nandor states, calmly.
"Oh, really? Well...I love it. So simple yet amazingly dull and bourgeoise." He looks about. "Yes, it speaks to me, screams rather... 'Save me, Simon' and I will, poor room, I will."
"Fine. Board it up, paint it black. We don't care. It's yours after you sign and moneys are transferred." Nadja, angrily.
"It's a beautiful place and you're lucky to get it." Jen speaks up, firmly.
"Oh, I agree, dear blonde little human blood bag and housemaid." Simon, warm smile. "No offense was intended, you groveling little worm of a slave." He puts up hand to Laszlo's sudden angry rise.
"It's all right, Master." Jen, anxiously rising as well.
"Fine. But lets get this over and done with." Laszlo insists.
"Fine by me. How fast can you get out of my home?" Simon notes. "I have so much remodeling and tearing down to do."
"Believe me, we'll be out by tomorrow." Nadja, grimly.
"Oh, really? Nice. So, just where will you be headed? I mean...If we are to have an alliance of sorts, I'll need to know where to find you. Will you be moving in with your lady friends?" smile.
"As a matter of fact, we will be..." Laszlo, coolly. "Ms. Zeller has a few places she owns in Maanhatta and we'll be taking one of them."
"You're moving to Manhattan?" Simon, genuinely surprised.
"It is the great City center, perfect to establish our domination, is it not?" Nandor shrugs.
"Greatest in the World, the place to be...Tell any shithead vamps you can't take it from me!" Rappula notes. "Sorry. The rap be addictive." To various stares. "Well, the paperwork's all in order. We can go ahead and sign, Simon."
"So, you'll all be in Manhattan, my town? How wonderful." Simon nodded, beaming. "I mean of course this place will be one of my new power centers, but my clubs in Manhattan will always have my eye on them...And their burnt out remains."
"Yes, that will be our new residence...The Isle of Maanhatta." Laszlo, portentously.
"So nice...We'll be neighbors, when I'm not here, dominating Staten as you pathetic chumps never could. How grand!" he clasped hands together. "We can do all kinds of social events that you could never get to easily from Staten, traffic being such a bitch. It's so wonderful. Where, exactly?" friendly smile.
"I mean that in the interests of our truce and potential alliance. After all, you know where I reside...When I reside there." Hard stare.
"Ginny?" Nadja turns to her.
"A penthouse in the Walker building...I've had it specially outfitted."
"The Walker? Oooh, tres elegant." Simon nods. "Though a bit dated and unfashionable. Should be just the place for you."
"We're happy with it. Now, before we sign..." Nadja steps forward, leaving Doll on her seat. "As to this 'alliance', we need to know about your contacts with the Van Helsing spirit."
"Indeed." Laszlo firmly.
"Yes. I did promise, didn't I?" Simon nods. "But quid pro quo, I'll need to know about you folks and your contacts with our people's worst traitor."
"You mean Dracula?" Laszlo eyes him. "There's little to tell. In fact we thought you would know more about him, given he's Van Helsing's lieutenant more or less."
"Yes, as to his having sold himself as stooge to the murderer of our people for a mess of Redemption pottage. No, as to knowing much about him and their relationship. The damned Hunters like to avoid exchanges of information, even with their favorite Uncle Tom. Why has he contacted you? And why is he currently touring Mehico with that fat lump of a..."
"Hey!" Jen cries. "Gui is our Chief Minion!!"
"Oh, you poor dears...Well, that partially explains it but why is he in Mexico? Laszlo?"
"Guillermo is my minion and I gave him leave to travel to his auntie's funeral." Nandor sternly. Martha, next to him, glaring as well.
"It appears that, in his role as a physician, the Count Dracule worked with Guillermo's aunt, who was a nurse. He may have used that connection as an excuse to approach Guillermo, but we have no more information than that."
"Yes? Isn't it too much of a hoot? 'Doctor' Dracula? I think I've seen that film at three in the morning on Channel 12. Or Acura he goes by now, I believe." Simon smiles.
"And a heart doctor, to boot." Shakes head. "I guess dodging all those stakes came in handy, finally. That's all you know? He seems to be approaching your fat little toad of a minion to get intel on you?"
"That is what seems to be, Simon Devious." Nandor, dignified nod.
"So why haven't you had fat boy kill him, may I ask?" grim look, then grin, then full chuckling laughter.
"Sorry, I couldn't resist. Your faces..." gleeful cackle.
"Gui would die for his Master and all of the Overlords." Jen, firmly.
"And very quickly, at Dracula's hands...At least in the old days." Simon chuckles. "So, the old fox is simply trying to ferret out information, else he'd surely pulled our 'Gui's...Love that name, btw...Head off, redemption or no, simply out of boredom. Or as a service to Humanity." Mock solemn tone.
"The more or less man is no longer a killer, Simon." Laszlo shrugs. "He can't just kill humans like you or I."
"Redemption, yes." Snort. "What is the big deal there?"
"It's big enough that you're trying to prevent it for Master Laszlo and the others." Ginny notes, carefully eyeing Simon.
"Am I? Moi? Oh, no, dear Ginny. What you must think of me?" Simon sighs. "Why in the world would I wish to prevent dear friends like these from finding peace etern. Or returning to this mortal coil in breakable form, if that's your desire? No, I couldn't think of three vampires more deserving then these, my dearest friends. Tell me, have you bought your tickets into Heaven yet or must you perform good works and all that, like our dear traitor the doctor count?"
"We've no intention of pursuing Redemption, Simon." Laszlo, firmly.
"Oh, good. Then we'll be friends Immortale." Simon nods pleasantly. "I'd so hate to lose you."
"What about you and Van Helsing, Simon?" Laszlo, grimly.
"Van Helsing and I? My, my, my..."
"It was through the Hunteress, no doubt..." Nadja insists.
"Yes...Dear Lesley was indeed my channel to the great Doctor VH. When she revealed herself to me as one of the Hunters and his direct descendant. But one not really so interested in the Great Game, rightly feeling cheated for all her efforts..."
Three years, previous...
Manhattan Theater District...
Night...
"Arrrgh..." a figure in Mickey Mouse costume, charging a slightly younger Lesley Ciara in what might have been taken for a jogging costume, groaned as it impaled itself on her stake. Joining a heap of bodies in various Disney costumes scattered about the alleyway.
Lesley sighing at the pile of vamp corpses...
Can't stand it when they are too recently living to just go "poof", the mess and bother. She pulled out cell phone and dialed.
"Saulie? I'm near Times Square. I was hit by about ten, while I was out poking around Devious' club here. Look, they're too new to poof, can you send some help? Yes, I'm sure Devious sent them, he must be aware of me. No...No." insistent tone. "I sure none..." she eyes corpses... "Were human. Well, it's not my fault, Saul." Fume. "You do understand I was nearly killed and turned just now? Yeah, thanks, it's nice to be appreciated. But a little backup at times would be nicer. They won't be, they're all in Disney costumes. I guess they thought it a brilliant disguise or maybe Devious' gang took some of the street performers. Yeah, I hate those bastards too, always trying to mooch money off the tourists and aggressive about it, too...Well, ten fewer now. All right, Saul. Get someone out here quick, please. Good, fine, I shouldn't stick around so I'm going home. G'night."
Clapping as she closed phone...She taking immediate stance with stake drawn from her shorts.
"Who is it? Come on out!"
"Beautifully done...And I hate those nasty little street performers, too. They were all just taken this evening." Simon the Devious stepped out into the front end of the alley. "My contribution to civil improvement."
"Mr. Devious. Or Simon the, to be more accurate." Lesley sighed.
"Lesley, how it pained me to learn you were a Hunteress, my sworn foe." Simon shook head. "You have such promise, I was so looking forward to backing you and nourishing your career."
Sigh...
"And now, I have to kill you. Such a loss to the world." He put on tragic expression.
"Unless of course, I take you as my mate." He bared fangs. Then as she tensed, retracted. "But what's that? I've tried putting vamps on the stage, it never works out. Sooner or later they either have to try and brave the daylight or they get labeled as 'problem' types. Pitiful ends either way..."
"Sure. You want to try me or should I just ram you?" she asked, stake out.
"I'm not some newborn Mickey Mouse pire..." he frowned. "Girl, I am Simon the Devious, vampire king of the TriState area. Your Hunters' prime target...The crème de la crème of Evil..."
"Dust to dust, ashes to ashes..." she shrugged as he fumed. "And you aren't really my target...If you hadn't sent those freaks after me, we wouldn't be bothered with you, beyond a little intel."
"Oooh and isn't the little Vampire Slayer full of herself? Except, you aren't her...The Slayer...No, you're just the second string." He eyed her. "It's insulting. I deserve the attention of the Slayer, no less. And what do you mean, I'm not the target? Who else could be? I am the Acme of Evil in the TriState area."
"Afraid you got just me, pal. But I am the great-great-great-granddaughter of Van Helsing, if that makes it sting less."
"Honestly? You?" he stared.
"Is it that surprising? I thought you'd've checked me out."
"Well, I knew you were one of the Hunters..."
Thanks to me...Samarta frowned, listening from her post.
"I always have human visitors...Especially ones I care to work with...Screened. I should say I was rather hurt at first to think I was just another vampire prince needing killing to you. But then, when I decided to test your mettle, I'd decided it was flattering that they'd try to use a great artist to throw me off..."
"Sorry if I deflated your ego. They did ask me because they thought an actress would have an in with you."
"Seems a wasteful misuse of talent to send you in just for intel I'd've happily bargained for..." shrug.
"But being the Devious..." she noted, pausing. "By your rep, we could hardly count on your being truthful if you knew why we were asking." shrewd smile.
"Well, that is a bit more like it. You really are a Van Helsing?" he eyed her. "You do have the skill..."
"Thanks." slight bow.
"My, my, my...That does take the whammy off a bit. I'm going to kill the descendant of Van Helsing...Neat." He charged suddenly.
Bhaw!! He found himself tossed on the ground...
"You little...!" he looked up in rage at her.
Then calmed, shaking head... "Lesley? Why are we doing this? What's to be gained here?"
"A maniac killer's stopped and it's my Duty." She noted. "Though I honestly wouldn't've bothered you if you'd've kept to your mo of passing for human and avoiding mass mayhem. Afraid you've brought this on yourself..."
"Oh, please. Kill me and you unemploy half of the theatric community between the plays I sponsor and my club shows. And you're right...At most I personally kill maybe one hundred folks a year. Think how many will be homeless, starving, suicidal without me. Besides, while you're good, you're only human...And alone. Guys!!!" he cried.
Ten faces now appearing from various spots about the alleyway, including Samarta, Todd, Rappula, Neal, Patrick, and the currently late Victor.
"Ok then, advantage Devious!" he beamed. "Oh, and please note that several of us have guns and even a crossbow. I respect human technology. You little apes are so cunning and clever. Die now, bye!" he rose.
To find himself with stake at throat, tightly held...
"Back them off or you dust." She told him calmly.
He tried to jerk free...Hmmn.
"Wait? How can you be that strong?" he eyed her. "No little human can hold me?" honest surprise. "Was my intel wrong? Are you...?"
The various ten vamps eyeing each other... She does fit the bill...It's gotta be her...
The Slayer.
Run.
All disappearing as fast as they had appeared.
Guys? A crestfallen Simon looking about...
"Adrenalin. We Van Helsings have learned to train our bodies to use it in battle." She explained.
"My goodness..." he sighed. "Mudda of you know who...Is dis da end of Devious?"
She chuckled. "I love 'Little Caesar'. Yes, it is."
"Not quite!" he misted and reappeared about ten feet away.
"It's a great film, isn't it?" he noted. "But what I really love is howthe real Eddie G was so completely different from his character...A sensitive artist...You know he fought for 'Scarlett Street'?"
"I do." She nodded.
"Ah...Lesley. Why do we have to do this? You're not a Hunter, you're an artist, potentially a great actor, with the right backing. And whatever I am, I am a lover of great art. Can't we just put the killing thing on mutual hold and discuss your career. I was serious back this evening about backing your next play. You need to get out of musicals and into serious drama, girl."
"I appreciate it, thanks." Sigh. "But I'm a Van Helsing and I have my duty. Though, again, sorry to bruise your ego, but it is what it is, you're not that big a deal to us."
Stare...What?
Not that big a what?
"Sorry." She eyed his downcast look. "But as you say, you're a practical type. You should be glad. You are considered a very sensible fellow as vamps go, what with your business deals and not killing too many innocents to keep things quiet..."
"Thank you..." sigh. "Coming from the descendant of Van Helsing, it means something...And you are trying to kill me now. But how did I suddenly become of interest, even if only for...Intel?" sniff. "I mean, what did I do right, for Evil's sake? Or wrong, in terms of my business interests?"
"Ummn..." she hesitated.
"What? You tracked me down, gained access...C'mon, Lesley." Winning smile... It was to destroy this menace to Humanity. Right?"
"Well...No. I was partially trying to get intel as I said, partially I really wanted to meet you and see what your next project was..." sheepish tone. "In fact, if you hadn't tried to kill me tonight..."
"How can the Hunters not want me dead? And just what intel?" he stared, rather disconsolate. Shrugging... "I might yet be open to a deal."
"They wouldn't object to my killing you. You're just not their priority. But now you've tried to kill me, it's sorta my Duty, so...Sorry." she glanced to her stake.
"Oh, please. Survive and kill those who'd kill me? That's all you got as a Cause here?"
"No offense intended." She made futile gesture with a hand.
"I'm sorry, but I must take some." Frown. "Though nothing personal, I understand. But there's surely more to Life and Unlife, girl. And not just for you, for those pathetic dweebs of yours in the Hunter Corps...." shrewd sudden smile.
"Five of whom we captured tonight and might consider releasing if you'd consider backing off." hastily as she glared and raised stake.
"Four, sorry!" call from up the alleyway.
"Ok, four. Four friends...Or rather just acquaintances or coworkers, I hope, I hope. They really not being in your league, dear." He held out cell phone, image of four Hunters, two male, two female, held captive, on screen.
Morons...I told them not to try Club Devious without me, she sighed at the image.
But I'm just the dumb dilettante actress they tolerate 'cause I have the name...And Saul's and the Council's backing...And my adrenalin thing...
"Fine. Let 'em go. If they're ok, I'll let you go."
He looked about him...Let me what? Girl, I think I just done proved....
Hey! He looked to find himself covered and then quickly tied into a trash bag. A twist sealing the bag airtight.
What da fuck?! He fumed, struggling in her grip.
"Stop it! I'll have to stake you!!" her voice through the bag.
Looks like the Hunter is takin' out the trash, Samarta thought, looking with considerable admiration...
You go, girl.
Though of course he is the Boss...And now that several mysterious killings at my paper have forced me to leave my position...Really, Todd? I get you a part-time job and you louse me up at work, leaving them right in my cubicle?...I need steady employment.
At least till the dust settles, I can assume a new identity, and get back to journalism, this time the real news, not that society and theater fluff.
"All right, I'm calling. Todd! Samarta! Let the nerds go!"
Fine, Todd sighed. I ate the only virgin and the rest are either too lean or too much fat.
...
Simon eyes the group in the present day, rather startling fond tone... "And that was our first rendezvous...It went like that for months after. She'd try and come after me, mumbling about Duty. I'd come after her. She'd rescue her dweeb friends from my clutches, I'd entrap them. Sometimes we'd just meet in public, claim there was no good place to fight that night, and talk over a drink about the theater, our careers, art. It was a dance...Till finally, one evening..."
Two years ago...Central Park...Night...
"Lesley? May I ask a question?" Simon, fangs out, but raging face of a moment ago now calming.
"Sure..." she settling back but keeping wary.
"Careful of that dress, dear. You really should've changed before coming out tonight. And how can you fight in those heels?"
"It was an emergency. One you caused." She noted.
"Mea maxima culpa. I couldn't get you on the phone."
"The Council wants me to stop spending so much time with you and focus on their primary target." She shrugged. "So? You were askin'?"
"Well apart from talking a little business later, who is this mysterious target of yours? I promise on whatever you know I can't deny I won't alert them. I'm just so curious. Who is so Evil to merit your full attention over me? Except when I grab a few of your doltish Hunter friends, like this one." Raising the younger Dwayne up, in his clutches...
"I'll let him go. If you promise..." he eyed her.
"Fine." she nodded as Simon set him down and the boy stepped back, hesitant.
"Hit the road, amigo!" Simon cried. "She'll be fine, you just get in her way."
"Go, Dwayne! And try to be more careful next time!" she ordered. He finally scurrying off.
"Nice kid but really not cut out for the job." She noted.
"They really should tighten standards...So?" he eyed her. "It's the Defiler, isn't it? Or Lloyd the so-called but not really so much, magnificent, small M, Lloyd!" fuming.
"No? Someone else? Lev the Perverse? Dick Cheney? No? Someone bigger and even more Evil? Must be from abroad..."
"They. And they're not really all that Evil..." sigh. "They're almost, well...They're prime candidates for the higher calling..."
"What?" he blanched, then frowned. "Oh, don't tell me...But do...Another of those Redemption freaks? Dracula, his sis, Conrad the Exterminator, William the Bloody, Angelica..."
"Who?"
"Angelus...He went trans after his redemption...Not another vampire seeking the easy out? Geesh, are there no standards left?" he frowned. "Wait. 'They'? More than one traitor among us?"
"Yeah, fraid so. But these are Involuntaries, like Conrad and Fred."
"Fred the Beguiler? Fred went Redemption? Damn!!" Simon raged, stamping foot. "I figured Garth, he's all 'oh, that poor baby vamp'. But Fred? Oh..." sigh, shaking head.
"Well, he was involuntary. We had to wait for the right moment..." she noted.
"Yeah, yeah...I suppose I saw the signs...He kept talking about his family back in the Inca Empire. Damn...I should've intervened, I blame myself. But who...Oh, no." he groaned. "I know who..."
"I really can't say, Simon."
He frowned, then shook head...
"Oh, of course. Light bulb! The Cravensworths and their live-in, Nandor, on Staten. It's them, isn't it?" he glared. "I knew it! The damned Council...Ours I mean...They should've killed them when they had the chance with that worthless ole Afanas, another human-loving traitor! But at least he never went full Redemption. It's them, isn't it?!"
He eyed her distraught face...
"Lesley? Did I say something wrong? Oh, my dear..."
"I should've ended this long ago." She sighed, tears running. "How could I ever think...?"
"Oh, Lesley..." he blinked. "It's just that it's so wrong...I mean, if I were ever to seek Redemption for love of a rotting human bag of blood...Oh, please don't cry..."