Magic Multiverse 12 (Patreon)

As he stood still in the alley, tense, Sam couldn’t help but curse his luck.

Yes, when he had taken a trip to Los Angeles, one of his aims was to test himself against a vampire, but he had a vision for it: with proper recon, multiple stakes, holy water, and surrounded by a lot of easily combustible oil.

This was bad. Not only he was trapped in an alley in the dark without any weapon, but he also had someone to protect. Technically, Cordelia was also bait, and if he had been a coward, he could have pushed Cordelia to the vampire, and checked if he could run faster than the vampire could finish feeding.

Unfortunately, he was not cowardly enough to find such an idea acceptable.

The only reason he ever thought of it was Vampire’s ego, standing in the shadows while he watched them, which allowed him to think too much.

The vampire was no doubt enjoying his fear.

Vampire Lore made it clear about the psychology of vampires. While they hunted humans, they weren’t predators looking for the most efficient kill. They were demon-possessed corpses, looking to maximize cruelty and enjoying their power advantage.

Sam was confident that it was his only advantage.

“Cordelia. I’m sure he’s drugged to the gills and dangerous. Start running when I give you a warning,” he said. He wanted Cordelia far away when the vampire realized he wasn’t an easy target.

He wasn’t sure whether he could win, but he was absolutely sure he couldn’t win while trying to protect a catatonic girl. And while Cordelia was tough, expecting her not to panic while facing a supernatural monster would be unfair.

He needed Cordelia to disappear before the vampire showed its demon face.

“Only half true, little man,” the vampire responded as he took a step forward, letting his face be covered in the shadows. Then, he took another step, his face twisted. Another step, this time wearing its demon face. “I’m no druggie. I’m just dangerous. More than you can imagine.”

“He must be wearing some kind of mask; ignore it and run away,” he ordered, his hands raised while he desperately searched for some kind of wood around the alley. His gaze caught a discarded chair, but it was too far away. He couldn’t get it before the vampire attacked him.

Then, he received another surprise. “That’s not a mask. He’s a vampire,” she said. Meaning, she actually knew about the supernatural to a degree.

It was her voice that surprised him. She wasn’t calm, which was to be expected, but she wasn’t hysterical either.

“A v-vampire,” he said, letting his voice tremble exaggeratedly. “D-does it mean we’re dead?” He was trying the vampire to underestimate him even more, which was the only way he could get a chance to take him down.

The vampire’s demonic face twisted even more, and his Vampire Lore skill supplied that it was supposed to be a smile.

“Just keep him occupied,” Cordelia said as she looked back, noticing the same discarded chair he did. He expected Cordelia to catch on to his fake acting, as she was sharp enough. But then, in her defense, a vampire didn’t stop being distracting just because she recognized his nature. “And, don’t let him touch you; they are much stronger than humans.”

“Fine,” Sam said, and turned his focus fully on the vampire. Unfortunately, there was no easy way to estimate the strength of a vampire just by looking.

Well, that was not entirely true. Truly old vampires, the kind that measured their time by centuries, would start showing direct impact of demonic influence with animalistic features.

But, if he had been facing one of those, he would be dead. No exception, no tactic.

However, it mattered to him whether he was looking at a fledging that had risen a few months ago, or an experienced one with a decade of experience. And, he could only learn that once the vampire attacked him.

He raised his hands and assumed a substandard guard pose. In practical terms, it was useless. The stances were designed to protect the head with the fists, and upper body with his arms. It left the lower body unprotected, not to mention that it assumed the attacker wouldn’t be able to just break bones with a hit.

He still took that pose, for two reasons. First, it allowed him to make his fists tremble noticeably, an easy way to fake terror for the vampire to enjoy. Also, it was a bait, giving the vampire a target. An invitation which the vampire to take.

He smoothed a smile when he noticed the vampire raised his fists in a similar manner, though his stance was even worse. “Let’s show the cute little boxer how things are done.”

With that, the vampire attacked, triggering the most dangerous fight of his life. He stretched his senses to the limit, glad that the combination of Vampire Lore and Boxing allowed him to read the attack to a degree.

If he ever met Wesley again, he owed him a big gift.

He dodged some punches; the others made contact. He was ready to fake pain whenever the vampire made contact, but the first hit showed that he didn’t need to fake anything. The vampire hit like a truck, each attack threatening to break a bone, and that was with him timing his movements to drain the momentum from the attacks.

He couldn’t cheat his way out with Tantric. It helped with bruises, not broken bones.

He did his best to use some of the showmanship tricks while boxing, when he wanted to look like the fight was closer than it was, stumbling, wincing, and shuddering after every attack.

The vampire just smirked, enjoying his dominance.

Just to make it even more arrogant, he had pulled his punches whenever he got an angle. He couldn’t take down a vampire in the first place, but they still felt a degree of pain, further feeding his arrogance.

Luckily, the arrogance of the vampire meant that he wasn’t adjusting, and as the fight went on, it actually started to get easier. Unfortunately, it was a temporary state of affairs. He would get exhausted soon, and the vampire didn’t share the same weakness.

The vampire delivered a few insults, but he ignored them, locked in combat, waiting for Cordelia to return. Then, he heard the clacking of her shoes, her approach distinctive. When she stood behind him, he expected her to pass the stake, so he took a step back, ready to grab it.

A big mistake. He didn’t expect Cordelia to lunge, trying to kill the vampire.

Luckily, the vampire merely grabbed her wrist rather than killing her with a punch to the head as he was clearly capable of, his demonic face twisting happily. “I don’t remember ordering takeout,” he gloated.

“You should shop for clothes from the adult section first,” Cordelia responded.

Sam had to admit, he had underestimated her bravery. Not everyone could insult a vampire that could kill them.

He didn’t waste any time. He lashed forward, telegraphing a punch to the head. Since none of the previous ones even hurt him, the vampire had been dismissive of the punch that was going for his head, even if it was a haymaker with his full might.

In the defense of vampire, he was right to dismiss it. Even a full-powered punch wouldn’t have done anything permanent. Unfortunately, that was never the plan. Sam extended his right punch, meanwhile, he also swung his left. His target. The blunt end of the stake Cordelia was still holding. And, vampire wasn’t holding the stake. He was holding Cordelia’s wrist, so he was unprepared for the stake dipping into his chest.

His eyes widened for a second … and he turned into dust.

[Supernatural Fight, Victory, +25 Boxing]

He barely noticed the reward, his attention was on Cordelia, who had just gasped in pain. With the vampire gone, she stumbled forward, and he caught her before she hit the ground hard.

“The next time, try to destroy it without ruining my wrist,” she complained in his arms. It must have been sprained when he hit the chair leg she was holding.

Someone else might have taken it as her being ungrateful, but in his arms, he could feel how wild her heartbeat was. She must have thought that after the vampire caught her wrist, they were about to die. Insults were her coping mechanism. “Of course, Your Highness,” he teased, his breathing out of control. “May I invite you to my room for a nightcap, and you can tell me about vampires?”

“Fine, you may,” she replied, still haughty.

They started walking together, but he carefully got hold of her wrist. “Careful, that’s the hand you injured with your clumsy fist,” she complained.

“I know,” he said as he started massaging. “Don’t worry. I know exactly how to deal with a bad sprain. I’m dealing with them for a decade.”

They took a cab to his hotel. On the way, they didn’t speak, but he continued massaging her wrist, making sure it was fixed. He wanted her in the best mood possible, and no longer because he wanted to see her moan.

Well, he corrected himself. Not just because he wanted to see her moan.

She recognized the vampire and knew how to kill him. He needed information. Not about the vampires themselves. That part was covered by the Vampire Lore. However, he needed her information about the contemporary details, such as their general numbers, and the people who could fight against them.

He didn’t expect it to take long, mostly because he didn’t expect her to know much.

Toward the latter half of the cab ride, the adrenaline started to disappear, which he found surprisingly challenging. While he fought in the ring regularly, and he was familiar with street fights, a deadly fight had been different.

He started taking deep breaths to keep himself from crashing. He was prepared to extend his massage to calm down Cordelia. To his surprise, she was able to handle the brush with death easier than he was able to.

Another surprising detail.

She didn’t say anything until they arrived at his hotel room. “Nice view,” was her first comment as she walked toward the window.

“Since it’s my first time in America, I decided to treat myself,” he said. “Drinks?”

“Just water,” she said. He took a bottle for himself as well, and sat next to her. For a moment, they watched from the window. “You must have questions,” she said.

“A good guess,” he replied, squeezing the bottle a bit. He didn’t want to oversell the story. “Apparently, vampires are real. I mean, I heard some stuff, but … how the hell that’s a secret?” he asked.

“You’re handling it well,” she commented.

“Well, we managed to destroy the bastard, which helps me to accept the idea.”

“That’s it?” she said.

He made a show of pausing, then shrugged. “Well, pretty much. I grew up in a rough neighborhood and had to fight against people carrying knives plenty of times. Also, there had been rumors, and what might be a real fight against them. Ultimately, if you’re dead, you’re dead. Knife or vampire fang, what’s the difference?”

She shuddered. “Not against a vampire. If one kills you by draining you, you turn into a vampire as well.”

He made a show of widening his eyes. “Well, that, I didn’t know. Now it’s scarier. What’s the deal with them. I don’t remember seeing them in London. Well, except for that one time. Yet, I got one immediately after I landed.”

She scoffed. “They are supposed to be all around the world, but in most places they are very rare.” She shuddered. “I thought they were rare in Los Angeles as well. Apparently, they are not. And, here I was, thinking I got away from them when I moved away from Sunnydale.”

He took note of that name, but didn’t follow up immediately. The last thing he wanted was for her to clamp down. He also her injured wrist to his hand again, giving her a massage to relieve the pain, even though it was mostly dealt with. All it was needed was a tight wrap, and it would get better in a day.

“Alright. So, they exist. Anything else?”

“I don’t remember much from Giles’ lessons,” she said. He committed the name to his mind as well. “But in the past, there were a lot of demons and other monsters in the world before they got kicked out to hell dimensions, leaving Earth to humans. Some of the weaker demons and vampires managed to stay back.”

“They are the weaker ones? “What is one supposed to be?” he asked, this time his question genuine, because Vampire Lore didn’t have anything on demons other than the fact that they existed. She didn’t answer, and he decided it wasn’t time to push. “But, to more important questions. What are their weaknesses? We established stakes work wonderfully. What else?”

He changed the topic. Not just because he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but also he wanted to ask some practical questions about vampires, ones that he already knew, creating an alibi for his magical information just in case. Also, it would be a good way to test the reliability of her knowledge before he moved on the areas he didn’t know.

“Holy water works. Sunlight kills them. And, they can’t enter a home without an invitation.”

“How about hotels?” he asked.

That made her pause. “I don’t know. I should have asked when I had the chance,” she said. “Also, they have no reflection, and holy water works pretty well as a distraction, but doesn’t kill them.”

“How do you know that?”

“My hometown had a bit of an infestation, so I had to learn,” she said, her tone sharp enough that he decided not to push her.

“How is their existence not in the news?” he asked, even though he had a good guess. Magicals and their memory-erasing spells must be at work, targeting anyone that tried to make it fully public.

“Most people don’t survive a direct attack, and the survivors often shrug it off, rationalizing it as a crazy person or something. Even back home, people just assumed it was PCP gangs murdering people.”

He hummed, thinking for a while. “Is there any kind of hotline that I can call if I’m dealing with them?”

“No,” she said, scoffing, then paused. “Or, if there is, I don’t know. I came here to get away from all that nonsense. But, apparently, I need to be more careful.”

He hummed. This time, either she actually worked hard to lie, or she was honest. Either way, he had a feeling he had hit the limit of what he could learn from her. It was clear that her connection was cursory. Since she lacked actual skills to fight against vampire, her exposure should be limited

He needed to check Sunnydale for more.

Her words told that there were a lot of vampires there, but exactly how much, he didn’t know. But as long as he drove a rental car, timed his travel so that he would be there in the early morning, and left before it got dark, it should be safe.

“So, that’s all the questions you have. I can leave,” she said, and made a move to stand up.”

He caught her gaze and smirked. “You can … if you want the vampire to win.”

That made her pause. “And, how would I prevent that?”

“You have been working on a certain project when he interrupted you. Are you telling me Miss Chase is weak enough to let a vampire change her mind?”

She caught his gaze, surprised, but then, a matching smirk appeared. His goading was hardly a secret, but then, it wasn’t the point. He was telling him what he wanted. “Good point,” she said as she stood in front of him and then knelt. “I should finish what I started.”

He didn’t say anything else.

“Good boy,” she said, swallowing him again, but he caught an interesting change in her attitude. Previously, it had been a performance, a sexy one where she had been in control. This time was different. Passion was there, but there was something more.

She went deeper, taking him to her throat, gags rising to fill the room. She looked even better when she reached to push her dress to the side. The dress was loose enough to come down immediately, and her lack of a bra turned it into a beautiful show.

“You have amazing tits,” he complimented.

“Of course I do,” she said, pulling back for a second. “Everything I have is amazing.”

“No doubt,” he responded, then groaned again when she started going down once more. He decided to push his luck, grabbing her hair, because since the alley, things had changed greatly.

Her gaze was angry, but sexy-angry. He smirked, and pushed her down deeper, using her throat as a toy while she kept her hands on his thighs, letting him. Inevitably, he exploded in her mouth.

Once again, the system treated it as a loss.

He disagreed. Vehemently.

She didn’t let even one drop go. He released her hair. “You have been a naughty boy,” she said, once again angry. She grabbed his collar, dragged him to the bed, and pushed back. Naturally, she didn’t have the strength to achieve it, but since he wasn’t a moron, he played along.

A good choice, as her next move was to climb on top and pull his shirt to send his buttons flying.

“You need to be punished,” she said, grabbing his hands and pressing against the headboard.

“Yes, Your Highness,” he responded, his smile widening.

The night was young…