Fool of the Devil II-9

Episode 9: Back to Business

Saturday and Sunday came and went, the whole Friday night vampire party crash situation passing by with everyone brushing it off as just ‘small-town’ rambunctiousness. Mexican gangsters on PCP, Xander rolled his eyes as he swung the door open and let the cool air hit his face. At least come up with a better lie, people. 

Either way, it wasn’t his job to handle the official story. Whatever the cops wanted to say, he wasn’t gonna fight them on it either. Hell, his mom had been so drunk she didn’t even seem to remember anything that happened that night either. 

Which was… 

Xander wasn’t sure what it was, but as long as people didn’t lose their minds and the town stayed normal, there was no reason to kick up a fuss.

Normal-adjacent, at least.

Walking into the Rosen Queen for his morning check-in already had him feeling a good bit better, something about the place just pepping him up for some reason. Maybe it was the janky bit of waiting room muzak already doing its ice-cream-truck-from-hell thing in the background, worming its way behind his eyeballs. 

The lobby was the usual acid trip; polished red ceilings that shouldn't work and glossy black floors reflecting the fluorescents in ways that seemed like it was designed to give you a headache but just... didn't. 

If anything, it was downright comfortable, somehow. He wanted to say it was weird, but really it didn’t even make the top twenty weird things about this place and definitely not even this whole frickin’ town. 

Besides, you’re used to weird, X-Man. He snorted and shook his head, the smell of brimstone tickling his nostrils. Speaking of weird, he wasn’t even sure how he knew what brimstone even was but somehow that came packaged along with everything else about being a devil. Don’t even question it. 

He had barely any time for questions anyway. He was just here to clock in with Tana. 

Except Tana wasn't at the front desk.

Xander blinked as he realized that just a few steps into the waiting room, the realization that there was no Fran Drescher bombshell doing her nails, flipping through a Cosmo, or existing in a cloud of perfume that was her best representation of a demonic aura.

No, no Tana.

Instead… Sam.

His boss, his King, stood there leaning against the obsidian counter, dressed in his standard office kit: black vest, red dress shirt, those stupidly expensive shoes with the red soles that probably cost more than his dad's Corolla. Everything on him was tailored sharp enough to cut yourself on, making the other teenager look a lot more intimidating than the skater clothes he wore on the rare occasion he went to school.

The dreadlocks were still neon-red, though. Brighter than Willow's hair even, which was saying something.

And next to him, a girl.

His nose caught her first, his instinct sorting her smell into threat?/weak/vampire/trash before he even blinked; that dusty-sweet mix of old blood and grave dirt. 

Vampire. 

Nosferat clan, the normal kind, the kind he'd gotten used to dusting. He wasn’t bigoted or anything, honest, but Culebra just stank so bad, even before they got dusted.

Xander shook his head and looked the girl up and down, something niggling the back of his brain the longer he looked at her. Where do I…

She was kinda chubby, more than a few pounds packed on her, even though she looked no older than he was; her long black hair yanked into twin pigtails with purple streaks running through them like someone had gone at her head with a highlighter. She was wearing the Rosen Queen intern uniform, red polo and khaki slacks that looked profoundly uncomfortable on her as she fidgeted with a bottle of sunscreen. 

"Uncle Al's SPF 1000" stared back at him in big friendly letters as a black haired man in red John Lennon sunglasses tanned on a beach chair. 

That was all interesting enough, but it was what was hanging around her neck that made him blink. A Sunnydale High student ID that read Lisette Chen.

Great. Xander bit back a groan. Another vampire in high school. What is this, a pattern?

Sam's eyes landed on him, too blue, too bright, too old for the face they were set in, and that slow lazy grin spread across his face like oil on water.

"Xan, my man." The velvet drawl crawled out of him smooth as it always was. "How's my favorite Imp doing?"

Xander's shoulders dropped about three inches as he held back from rolling his eyes. "I'm your only Imp."

"That you are."

The words came out clean, packaged with a smile so sincere it was impossible to tell if Sam was being an asshole or if the guy actually meant it.

Probably both. Definitely both.

Xander's eyebrow went up a good inch, gaze sliding past Sam to the empty reception chair, the one Tana usually occupied like a throne. "Where's Tana?"

"She's on break."

Xander's eyes flicked to the clock on the wall, red numbers and  clock hands the same color reading a little after 7 AM. His own timepiece, a smaller version of the one on the wall with a red leather band wrapped around his wrist, agreed. "...it's seven in the morning."

Sam's grin didn't even flicker. "Your point?"

Xander sighed, the sound scraping out of his chest.

None at all.

“Anywaaaaay, let’s not waste time,” Sam chuckled as he pushed off the counter and stood ramrod straight, hands clapping together loud as a gunshot. "In the spirit of fairness, I looked at my actions and I’ve come to the realization that I’ve been unfair to you, Xander.”

Huh…? The Imp opened his mouth, unsure where this was going. I make like five grand a week. Granted, he hadn’t been at work since school let out for summer, but his Rosen Queen bank account was still sitting pretty after he helped kill the Master. 

Unfair… Well, that wouldn’t be the word he’d use.

“So unfair of me…” Sam shook his head. “I had to fix that. Being the only Devil running around with a Minion was just rude of me as your King, and as you’re far too weak to get your own Evil Pieces, I decided to do you the favor of getting your own minion." The redhead paused, a single finger tapping his chin. "I mean… assistant."

The words hit Xander’s brain, bouncing around like a Plinko piece. Minion? Me? "I'm a minion?"

"Yes."

Well, he couldn't exactly argue with that. "Fair enough."

He nodded, his gaze shifting to the vampire girl. She flinched when he looked at her, her eyes darting away to study a particularly interesting spot on the floor.

He was unsettling her. Xander was no stranger to having girls be weird around him, but this was a bit more than that. The way his posture had shifted without him thinking about it, the way he towered over her without meaning too; he could actually see her cringing back the longer he stood there.

"You cool with this?" he asked her, voice a little bit lower than he meant it to be. 

Just a bit softer too.

The vampire girl looked up, eyes wide behind her glasses. "Oh, y-yeah," the words tumbled out in a rush, gaze flickering over to her side where a certain redhead stood. "A-A lot, like, I get to see my family again after almost a year, you know?"

Sam beamed, the man so smug that it was almost painful to look at. Everytime he met the guy in a suit, it was like talking to a male Cordy with a good attitude so… not Cordy at all. "See? She’s happy. I’m happy. Everyone’s happy." 

Xander pulled a face. “What about me?”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “What about you? Are you not happy?”

“Well…” Xander’s mouth worked silently for a few seconds. “...I could use a donut.”

“Well, have your minion grab you one from the break room, genius.” Scoffing like it was obvious, Sam produced a rolled-up scroll of what looked like old, leathery parchment from behind his back. "Now, just a bit of paperwork."

Said paperwork found itself in Xander’s hands, the parchment feeling warm, almost alive as he held it. "Push some of your Nether into it. Just a little. Don't want you passing out on your first day with a sidekick."

Xander focused, pulling on the familiar, greasy-hot energy coiled in his gut. He pushed it into the scroll, feeling a sharp drain, like a needle pulling blood. Across from him, Lisette flinched, a small gasp escaping her lips.

"What was that?" he asked, looking from her to Sam.

"That," Sam looked even more smug somehow, if that was possible. Given that the guy could also shape-shift, Xander wasn’t putting it past him for a second, "...was you changing her race from human vampire trash to demon vampire trash."

“I what?” Xander blinked, the scroll vanishing in a burst of red and appearing in Sam’s hands. 

His king pocketed the parchment, grin still plastered on his face. “Yeah, I’m surprised it worked too. My first time trying that.”

“Your what?”

Lisette just looked down at her shaking hands, knuckles white as she gripped the sunscreen bottle. 

Sam’s smile was all teeth as he reached out with one hand and patted the ‘vampire trash’ on the head like a favored pet. "Meet your new Draculina," he pulled her forward until she stood just a few feet from Xander, "She gets to leave her Nosferat life behind and slowly grow along the path of a Nosferatu."

The distinction felt like a word problem from hell. "Isn’t that her…” Xander blinked slowly, trying his hardest not to sound like belonged on the short bus, “I thought she was already…"

“No, Xan-Man, Nosferat is not Nosferatu.” Sam shook his head, the motion full of pity for Xander’s ignorance. "One is garbage," his king gestured vaguely at the air with wiggling fingers like he was sprinkling fairy dust on nothing. "The other is… a true breed of a demonic bloodsucker." He grinned. "Not quite a real fuck-mothering vampire, but she could eventually get there.”

“...” The teenager held up a finger. “I’m still confused.”

“When are you not?” Sam’s smile fell just a little bit. “Blah blah blah, the stronger you get, the stronger she gets when she fights for you."

Xander raised an eyebrow, his gaze settling back on Lisette. The girl looked up at him and, with a trembling hand, made a nervous peace sign.

Something was still gnawing at his brain and Xander couldn’t deny that the longer he looked at the vampire girl. The face. The hair. The nervous energy that even undeath couldn't quite stamp out. "…no offense, but do I know you?"

Lisette’s face went pale, which was impressive for a vampire. "…umm, you recruited me?"

He blinked. The memory was foggy, buried under months of fights and secrets and near-death experiences. "I… did?"

"Yeah," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "Me and my cousin and my friend. After you killed our other friend… Hester. You met us a few months ago, too?"

Oh. The name hit him like a brick. The goth harlequin girl in clothes two sizes too small who’d summoned him into a binding circle in a graveyard. The one who’d tried to use her friends as batteries. The one whose head he'd…

"Oh… you were with Clownyface." The memory came back in a rush, all of a sudden sharp and ugly. She was his first magic kill, the first time he’d felt his Nether explode out of him like that. "All coming back to me now."

Lisette just nodded, looking like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole. "…uh-huh."

Sam laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls of the lobby. "Look at you, already getting along so well. Now run along, kids. You’ll be late for school."