WHO: Bela Talbot and Peter Petrelli WHAT: Bela promised a gift to Lilah. WHERE: within a mile or so of the Hyperion WHEN: close to midnight RATING: PG (violence, kidnapping, involuntary drugging) STATUS: log ; COMPLETE
Bela went through the basics.
She pinned up her hair neatly, making sure none of her usual brunette tresses were visible when she slipped the blonde wig over her head. She hated the way she looked as a blond, even after she dusted her eyebrows with a bit of lightening powder so they didn't look as obvious. She wiggled her nose as she wiped makeup over the freckles on her cheeks and then swiped a bit of lipstick over her lips. By the time she'd put on eyeshadow she barely looked a thing like herself. She dragged her fingers through her new hair to make sure the wig was firmly in place. Satisfied she moved onto wardrobe, getting into a jogging outfit she would never willingly don, sticking iPod earphones into her ears that she'd always found obnoxious, and attaching a horrible looking jogger's pouch to her waist.
After saying goodbye to Dobbs (and the three unnamed kittens she'd rescued from demon poker) Bela left her flat running, looking like any other woman out for an after work run. It didn't matter that there were hex bags and syringes in the bag at her waist or that the sounds playing into her ears were reminders of the details for various jobs she had coming up in later weeks. Appearance was what mattered. Appearance and location. She needed to look colleged age and dumb, and she needed to look that way near enough to the Hyperion in order to catch the attention of one Peter Petrelli.
Funny, how she had issues with handing kittens over to demons to eat, yet kidnapping a man just days after his wedding? Nothing.
Bela ran down the LA streets. The jog was actually incredibly nice. It was a fairly warm night out and she'd needed the exercise. She barely broke a sweat and it wasn't very much time before she was turning down the appointed street. It was a well lit street, one she'd chosen purposely with Lilah. Even the alley she'd planned to be ambushed in was fairly well lit, and one of the stores on the corner was only just closing. She'd wanted it that way. It was the last place one would actually plan an ambush of this sort and she wasn't worried about being recognised. She'd never met Peter, and there were no video cameras around. His telepathy had the potential to be an issue, but Bela was laying faith in the strength of her hex and mojo bags in order to block that. She figured the test would be if he came to rescue her at all; why would he come if he could see through the facade?
It was a good three mile run before she stopped in front of the appointed alleyway, unclipping the iPod from her waist and looking down at it as if it had suddenly broken on her. She even shook it a few times for good measure. Her fingers were pushing down on the silly little wheel a hand grabbed her from behind. Lilah's vampire thugs.
They were rough, which was exactly what Bela had requested. They grabbed, punched, and kicked as she megerly fought them away, forcing herself to hold back. She couldn't have done a damned thing alone against four vampires, but her punches were significantly pulled and instead of kicking in placed she knew would hurt she did a liberal amount of distressed feminine screaming. It took every ounce of self control to allow herself to be manhandled and at one particularly lewd grope to her chest she swore if someone didn't show up soon she was going to have to do something. She didn't even have her usual gun; college students didn't jog with magums.
It was a typical night for Peter. Which meant he was out patrolling. He'd had dinner with his wife (the word never got old), and had nestled in the bed with her until she had fallen asleep. He didn't need the rest tonight. The wedding had been several days ago, Los Angeles time, and nearly two weeks ago in Labyrinth time. The perfect honeymoon location, as it was something wholly and inseperably theirs, and still gave them the extra time together, without missing much while he was away from the Hyperion. He hadn't expected trouble, there had been no warnings or visions of trouble, and Peter knew that if there had been trouble, it would have been handled as efficiently as possible, since no one was willing to interrupt the happy newlyweds.
He was grateful for that. Moreso than he would express. But it still felt good to be back on the streets, where he could continue to serve his position as Champion by eliminating as many of the everydaynight dangers as he could. Peter could organize ranks, delegate responsibilities, and lead Angel Investigations, but he always returned to the streets in the end. It wasn't always the world that needed saving - sometimes, it was just one innocent in a city of monsters.
Screams caught his attention, and Peter was off running, invisibility and super speed kicking in before he'd even finished spinning on his heel. The screams brought him to a well-lit alley, where a young woman was struggling against a nest of vampires. They were just as preoccupied with her as she was with them, so it was simple to slip up behind the vampire holding her - one who had just taken the opportunity to cop a feel - and slide a stake into his back and through the heart. The invisibility fell away as the dust collapsed, and Peter wasted no time in lunging at the second. This vampire had only just registered his companion's abrupt death when he followed suit.
"Get down!" he shouted to the woman, hoping that even if she was stupid enough to go jogging at night in this neighborhood, she wouldn't be stupid enough to disobey. Peter swung his fist, as though to punch the third vampire, but when the blow connected, it was a telekinetic shove that sent both of the undead bastards into the wall.
Thank God, Bela thought. The vampires worked for Lilah, but whether or not they would have let her go before having a nip and sip was debatable. All part of the risk, but not something she'd wanted to happen. She willingly ducked when ordered and rolled to the side, pressing herself against the brick wall of the alley. Her hand slipped down to slightly unzip the pouch at her waist before she clipped the iPod back over the opening. Her face stayed properly terrified the entire time, even as she went over things in her mind. American accent, syringes, chlorophome, cell phone...
It was slightly inconvienent that he was killing them all (however, it was awfully convienent how the vampires could be killed without the messiness of headchopping), but it gave her the opportunity to watch him work. Her eyes squinted and her interest piqued as she looked for signs off the powers Lilah had detailed to her, but all she could really see was that he was perhaps stronger than average. Annoying, but on the plus side, the hex bags seemed to be working.
Bela winced, screamed, and tucked her head down into her knees when one of the last vampires started towards her. Bloody thing should have just run off already. The Champion had arrived.
One of the vampires was been more than a fledgling. Unexpected, but certainly not a major disadvantage. Not anywhere close to the strength of a master, but strong enough that the shove into the wall hadn't phased him. Instead, the vampire launched himself back at Peter, pushing off the wall with both feet. One ragged claw tore at Peter's throat, drawing blood for an instant before the wound healed, leaving only a splash of fresh blood on his skin. Peter spun with the impact, slamming the vampire back into the opposite wall with him. The fresh scream sounded, and he swore under his breath. He was running out of time.
A fresh stake called out with telekinesis, Peter impaled the vampire he was grappling with, hopefully blocking the way the stake had moved from the woman. There was no way to hide what he was about to do, but lies were handy for that explanation. A short burst of flame leapt from Peter's hand. Few things burned faster than vampires; the creature was ablaze in moments, falling to a cloud of dust as the fire quickly burned out.
Sighing heavily, feigning the need to catch his breath, Peter shifted over to the cringing young woman. There was clear concern in his eyes, looking her over for any wounds. "Hey. You okay?"
Damn. All dust. Sighing mentally, Bela knew she was going to have to call for backup when it came to dragging Peter all the way back to the W&H offices. Honestly, that was fine. If she wasn't the one doing the dragging, there was much less of a chance that he'd recognise her later if the drugs didn't completely knock him out. Hopefully the vampires who came to get the body hadn't been too attached to the ones who'd just been dusted. Lilah had said that they were expendable and Bela took her at her word.
"Th-thank you. I-I- what was that?" By her voice she could have been from any mid-Western state. Just a silly out of state college student who was out jogging where she most certainly should not have been.
Shakily, she started pushing herself up from the ground. She stumbled purposely, hoping that Peter would offer to help her up. "God, I-I'm sorry. I jjust... I was so scared. I would have given them anything, but I don't even have any money on me."
Clueless. Completely clueless. It still amazed him that some people could be so damned naive about the world they lived in. Honestly, a few months back, it had been the Apocalypse, and people had continued to go about their lives as though it was just another day. She stumbled, and Peter reached, taking hold of her hand to help her back to her feet. "That? Well, they, really. Vampires. It's not safe to be out on your own after dark."
Now to see how she reacted to that. Real vampires, people who thought they were vampires, even a gang called the Vampires - he was ready to use any as an excuse, whichever one would soothe the experience into something she could accept. He could hear the notes of fear and panic in her voice. Her mind was a buzz of activity - Peter couldn't pick up on any individual thoughts, but that was likely due to nothing more than panic. Now that the danger was clear, hopefully she would relax a bit more.
"You live nearby?" At the very least, he could get her back home. And try to drill it in that she shouldn't be out jogging this time of night.
Bela gave a look of surprise sufficiant of someone who hadn't made a deal with a demon at the age of fourteen. "Vampires?" she exclaimed. "Omigod, my roommate wasn't lying! There're... there're no vampires in Ohio." She ran her fingers through the fake hair and looked very much a dumb blonde.
"I live about a mile away. I go to ULCA, but we live off campus, a-and I was just going for a run, 'cause I missed mine this morning." She bit down on her lower lip and looked up at Peter through her eyelashes. "A-are there more out there?" She squeezed down on his hand which she'd yet to let go of in her 'terror'. "You couldn't-- I don't know if I can get home alone. Could you...?"
The question was implied. Would he mind walking her home so that he didn't end up having to rescue her again before the night was through. She was the type who would likely just walk into trouble anyway. "I'm Stacy... and thank you."
The racing in her mind hadn't settled, hadn't even begun to, and that was really all the justification he needed. She was still in a panic, and if he didn't see her home, she'd either have a panic attack, or end up as dinner for another vampire. There was something about her that made him hesitate for a moment, just something that he didn't feel comfortable about, but he agreed by nodding and setting her hand on his arm, a silent reassurance that he would walk her home.
It was when he looked down at their hands that he remembered. Yvette Cast, a classmate of his from nursing school. She'd had the same flighty demeanor that this Stacy was showing. And she had tried every trick in the book, from batting her eyelashes to playing the damsel in distress, in an effort to get Peter to notice her. If he felt polite, Yvette had been a leech. Politisse aside, she'd been a slut. With Stacy gripping his hand as she was, there was no reason she wouldn't have felt the wedding ring on his finger, but she was still playing the helpless victim.
You're starting to sound like Claude, Peter scolded himself. She was the helpless victim. Not just playing one. It's completely possible that she's honestly scared.
"I'm Peter," he answered. "And don't mention it. People have to look out for one another." He smirked a bit, his expression somewhere between teasing and scolding. "But no more jogging at night. If you miss your morning run, take it before sundown."
"I promise, I won't," Bela answered earnestly. She gave him a shaky smile as she appeared to smooth down her tank top and running shorts. She couldn't help but think how ridiculously silly she looked as she slipped her hand into her bag, appearing to tuck away the iPod and headphones. But her hand slipped around two of the four needles she'd brought along with her. The vampires were dead and Peter obviously thought she was some sort of idiot, trusting her enough to agree to walk her home. It was now or never, and she wanted to do it before they'd walked too far from the area of the planned ambush. She had more of Lilah's men waiting two or three blocks away, waiting to be called and carry Peter off.
She offered another simpering smile and gripped his arm, as if she was still nervous. "Thank you so much. You will never see me out here this late again..."
And certainly not in these clothes, she added as an afterthought. Bela smiled up at Peter and her grip on his arm changed. Her real strength --certainly impressive for a ditzy blonde from Ohio who hadn't been able to defend herself at all-- showed through. Her smile changed from simpering to her usual smug look, lips tugging upwards into a near smirk as if she just knew how absolutely brilliant she was.
Bela kept her grip steady, depending on the element of surprise she had, and in a quick motion pulled her hand from her bag, holding the two syringes. The pad of her thumb rested against the two plungers. She'd never been squeamish. She couldn't afford it in her line of work. And so with no hesitation Bela reached up and shoved the two needles through the soft skin in Peter's neck. The plungers went down and the barrels emptied, sending an overdose of heavy sedatives into his body. She had two more of the things, and the men coming to get him would have even more for the veins in his arms, where the drugs would go straight into his blood. The neck was simply easiest to start. She didn't have the time.
He almost felt bad, starting to judge her on his experience with Yvette. It was like judging Gabriel from what he knew about Sylar. Granted, Peter had done that as well, but he'd been wrong. Not everyone had the same experiences. He was probably being harsh to think of her as a moron (no matter how true it might have been). Whatever. All he had to do was get her home, see her inside, and then he was done.
He traced his thumb along the signet ring Sarah had given him, the symbol of her power and status embedded on the circle of metal he wore. One ring on each hand, the only jewelery he wore, the only pieces he had ever worn. (With the exception of that one earring for half a day after Nathan and Heidi's first wedding. But Peter didn't count that - he'd been far too drunk at the time.) Two rings, each standing for separate reasons to explain one connection.
Peter was tugged from his internal reverie by Stacy's hand tightening on his. He looked up sharply - had she seen something? Someone? - and was just tilting his head to ask when the needles caught his throat. Peter threw himself back immediately, but the plungers were already depressed. Cold, seeping numbness was spreading through his neck. His breath came in wheezing gasps. Peter stumbled back against the wall behind him, and his left hand raised. There was a burst of pain in his mind, but he managed to send one bolt of lightning in her direction.
He could feel it. God, he could feel it, the mist that was filling his mind. Panic - no, pure terror washed through him when he recalled when he had felt this before. Darla.
Unable to speak, barely able to breathe, Peter's cries for help were only mental. NATHAN! At any other time, a shout like that might have given his brother a nosebleed. The cloud in his mind quieted the scream to barely a whisper. Was it enough? Please, please let it have been enough. He could barely hear his own thoughts.
He didn't care where the girl had gone. With any luck (something he was clearly short on right now) the lightning bolt had taken her out of commission. Peter tried to use the wall to keep himself upright, but the moment he shifted a foot, his balance gave out, dropping him solidly to the ground, struggling to breathe again.
Something about her left side attracted trouble. She could smell singed fabric and skin from the lightening bolt she absolutely hadn't been expecting and thus hadn't been able to properly avoid. "Lovely, thanks." She resisted the urge to reach down and feel the wound, knowing that she didn't have time to worry about something that Lilah's healers would be able to fix as soon as she got back. Instead Bela reached back into her bag and grabbed the last two needles.
"Stay down, yeah?" she muttered, kicking him against the wall while he was already down. "Nothing personal, just work." Bela walked forward, lips pursed in concentration as she stuck her last two needles into his neck in just about the same place. Her fingers laid gently against Peter's skin while she checked his pulse to make sure the drugs hadn't killed him, though Lilah'd said that he could handle it. Assured, Bela got up from her knees and wiped her hands on her shorts. She wasn't worried about leaving prints --she didn't have any-- her hands were simply dirty from kneeling. This was why she didn't usually do this sort of work. However, this had been a relatively easy and efficiant opperation.
Bela winced again, realising that the burn really was beginning to smart. It was time to head out.
The phone call to the Wolfram and Hart men didn't take long and she was satisfied that they were on their ways. She wanted Peter injected again before his body started flushing out the current doses and she wanted him on an IV drip soon after that.
Strong pulse, weak breathing. It was a battle to draw in a breath. When he realized she was leaning over him with more syringes, Peter tried to raise his hands, perhaps to try for another lightning bolt, but the vicious kick crumpled what remained of his concentration. He cringed, and the needles were in his neck again. He wanted to bare his teeth and snarl at her, but the sound that issued from his throat was more like a whimper.
His eyes were glazing over. The world was spinning. There wasn't enough time to do all he wanted to do, not enough coherence left to focus on more than one thing. But which one thing?
The one that mattered the most. Peter's hands curled into fists. Concentrated. God, it hurt trying to do this. But the rings he wore, those precious symbols, were vanished from his hands, having been buried under his skin, seared to the bone. No one else would be able to foul them with their touch.
Last of his reserves spent, Peter's glazed eyes slipped shut, and his head dropped to the pavement.
"Some Champion." Looking down at Peter's collapsed form, Bela shook her head and began shoving her supplies back into the bag. She could see why he was maybe a thorn in Lilah's side, what was the compendium of powers he possessed, but she'd taken him far too easily this evening. Still, she had to admit that he wouldn't be someone that she wanted gunning for her. With any luck he wouldn't be after she helped his family and friends rescue him.
The fake accent stuck around ten minutes later as she handed out clipped orders to the Wolfram and Hart employees who'd arrived. Lilah had obviously made it clear that her instructions were to be followed to the letter, because none of the three men (or vampires, she wasn't sure and didn't want to be put in a situation where she wold have to be) questioned anything she told them until she turned to one of them and said, quite clearly, "Hit me."
"What?"
Bela rolled her eyes as she watched the other two lift Peter into the back of a nondescript SUV after injecting the last of their supply into his arm. When she turned back to the man she'd been addressing she scowled. "Hit me. One, two, three, come on, I know you can do it. Two in the eye and one in the jaw. I could care less which side, just do it." She needed visible injuries for the next phase of her plan when she spoke with John Winchester and the attacking vampires earlier hadn't done nearly enough. She couldn't afford to think too far ahead, but a black eye and a swollen jaw didn't just present themselves, and she was too much of a lady to go and get into a bar fight in order to procure them. This was the easiest way.
And incredibly painful at that. "Bloody hell..." Bela touched her jaw tenderly just a moment later before moving onto her eye. One punch to the right side and two to the left. Both were going to swell amazingly. "Alright... get out of here. I'll meet you back at the office. Make sure he's hooked to the IV as soon as you lot get in there, and here..." She reached into her bag and pulled out two of the red hex bags she'd been carrying. "Obviously his accommodations have been fortified, but until you get back there take these just in case he manages to regain consciousness. I don't need him getting through to what little brain you might have."
Vampire or human, he looked rather insulted at her words. Bela simply shrugged, backing away to head out of the alley. The night had been successful and she was willing to congratulate herself on a job well done, but she had to go home and change before she allowed anyone else to see her like this. Including her boss.