Dynasty

Part 4

Chris Larabee blinked unseeing eyes as he reluctantly let go of the connection to his only child. He always felt disoriented and bereft when he let go of the link that connected them - almost unnatural.

Closing his eyes briefly, he let his heart mourn for his daughter’s lover, lost far too young.

Just like his own family.

Chris knew the pain Willow was going through all too well.

Sighing as he rose, the blonde moved from the sofa he had lain down on earlier, stopping in front of the large pane of glass that took the place of a wall. At twelve floors, the Dynasty hotel dwarfed the rest of Denver, giving him an unobstructed view of the city.

His city.

He didn’t know how it had happened, but after the death of his wife, Sarah, and son, Adam, he had managed to control and hold the city. A city which was quickly becoming known as a safe haven for those supernatural beings who simply wanted to live a normal life, without the fear of discovery. What had begun as a burning, all-consuming desire for revenge against the one who had killed his wife and son, had turned into something unexpected, with the help of six amazing men. None of it had been his intention, Chris had merely gone after a murderer, which resulted in a power vacuum in the city. Somehow, with the addition of each man into his circle of close confidants, the seven of them had become the new power base in the Denver demon community - the Guardians, each born with the gift of magic. Though most of them wouldn’t admit it, they were all pleased, as well as slightly annoyed with the gossip and rumours that had labelled them as the ‘Magnificent Seven’ throughout the demon world. It had only been recently that Chris had relented and officially taken the position as the Head of the City.

Now demons all over the country knew that Denver was protected by the Seven.

Thinking of the six men he affectionately referred to as his ‘boys’, made the black clad man remember that he was heading for a Hellmouth, and wanted someone to watch his back. He ran through the list in his head, trying to figure out which of his men would be the best.

Buck Wilmington would normally have been at the top of the list, and while his oldest friend fit ‘Tall, Dark and Handsome’ to perfection, he didn’t think the womaniser was the best to have around Willow at the moment. Though Buck had stayed by his side throughout his own period of black mourning and self-destructive tendencies, he wouldn’t be the best at comforting a grieving Willow. While he was the only one of the Seven to actually know about Willow - had even met her on occasion over the years - the loud, boisterous rogue had always made Willow slightly uncomfortable. Despite the many traits she had inherited from him, the ability to deal with the moustached scoundrel was not one of them. The red head had always been quiet and unsure of herself around Buck, and didn’t need that at the present time.

Josiah Sanchez would be his next logical choice, as the older man was a born listener. The big man was a full-grown teddy bear - except when he lost his temper, and then even Chris ran for cover. However, Chris knew Willow had some slight fear of being ‘loomed’ over, which the ex-Preacher would unconsciously do. Josiah also had a defined line between grey and black - though he suspected even Josiah didn’t know where it lay. Until he knew how much Willow had delved into the dark arts, he didn’t want to find out exactly where that line was.

There was a similar problem with Nathan Jackson. The black healer held very defined beliefs when it came to black magic, and Chris didn’t want to make Nathan choose between his beliefs and Chris. He planned to be at Willow’s side, no matter how far she had fallen. Though he suspected Nathan and Josiah wouldn’t raise much of a fuss, especially once Willow dried out from the black magic she’d absorbed.

Even through their brief contact, Chris could feel the dark power surging through the link. It was all he could do to remain fixed on the conversation, and not simply bask in the familiar waves of dark energy. He hadn’t lied when he’d told Willow that he couldn’t condemn her, especially for doing what he himself had done when his family had been taken from him. Chris knew the agony of losing those you loved to death, as well as the rage when nothing you did could fix it. He also knew the sweet taste of revenge against the ones that caused those deaths. That was something the others couldn’t claim.

JD Dunne was one that wouldn’t even understand the desperate need to taste vengeance against the one who had taken those closest to you. While the young man had lost his mother, it was to natural causes rather than malicious intent - if you could call slowly dying as your body turned on itself, natural causes. Chris didn’t have any doubts that though Willow would become good friends with the youngest of the Seven, now was not the time to introduce them. Despite everything that had happened in his life, JD was incapable of being anything other than a bright, shining ray of light in their lives.

For the other six hardened men, it was an annoyance at times, but none of them would change him for the world.

Despite what Ezra may claim.

The green-eyed con man would be an ideal candidate as a travel companion, and would no doubt be able to bring Willow out of her depressed state - if only for a short while. Unfortunately, there was not enough money or coffee in the hemisphere to get Ezra Standish up and out of bed at the time necessary to arrive in Sunnydale at the designated time. The consummate night owl would make the trip to California a living hell for Chris - something he had no desire to deal with currently.

That left the blue-eyed Texan, Vin Tanner. The ex-bounty hunter had been a calm, soothing balm to his tortured soul from the moment their eyes had met. The man would follow Chris into Hell itself without a single word of complaint, just to make sure he came out alive - a gesture which would be reciprocated with the same unquestioning loyalty. The younger man would watch both his and Willow’s back while they were on the Mouth of Hell, and ask questions later.

His decision made, Chris strode across the penthouse apartment of the Dynasty, hopping on the private elevator and headed for the bar in the basement of the hotel.

The Saloon, as someone had first named it, was one of the main gathering places for the supernatural community in Denver. It was also where he had left the boys hours earlier when Willow’s pain and anguish had ripped through him like he was tissue paper. He knew the others had felt a slight ripple through the bond that connected them all, but nothing as strong as what Chris had felt. The wave of dark magic that had swept across the senses of every magical being in the hemisphere some time later, guaranteed that they would still be in the Saloon, hours afterwards.

Stepping through the back door, Chris immediately felt a level of tension he hadn’t felt since he’d made his first appearance after Sarah and Adam died, and he’d gone out of control. Some of the demons who had been here back then had felt the familiarity of the situation, but instinctively knew that he hadn’t been behind it. Still, that level of power had everyone tense and worried.

Making his way through the bar to the table occupied by the other men, he was met with a variety of worried looks. Even Ezra looked mildly concerned, though to anyone else the green-eyed Southerner merely looked bored as he shuffled his ever-present deck of cards.

“Chris?” asked a frowning Buck, the others remaining silent.

Ignoring the question in Buck’s voice, Chris turned his attention to the Southerner.

“I need the plane fuelled and ready as soon as can be arranged.” he told Ezra. The man was in charge of finances, in fact owned the Dynasty, while Chris’ money was invested in a variety of clubs and restaurants geared towards the demons in his city. At the moment, he needed the use of the jet they all shared, and Ezra was the one in charge of that.

“Goin’ somewhere, Cowboy?” drawled a smooth voice.

“Yeah.” he replied, looking at the owner of the voice, one of two people who could call him a ‘cowboy’ and live. “Sunnydale. You’re coming with me.” A lone brow rose in question, but nothing was said at the seriousness of the situation was felt.

“Is this what I think it is?” asked Buck, the only one who knew why Sunnydale.

A quick flicker in the green eyes told Buck more than any words could.

“I want you boys to steer clear of the ranch for a few weeks.” Chris told them, garnering more than a few raised eyebrows around the table.

“Will you require the use of the jet for long, Mr. Larabee?” queried Ezra, his eyes meeting Chris’, as the cards kept up their flawless movements.

“Should be back by tomorrow afternoon.” he told the con man. “Quick turnaround.”

“Do you need our help with anything, Brother?” intoned Josiah, his deep baritone rumbling across the table.

“Just need time and space, Preacher.” he told the not-quite holy man. Though Josiah had all the teachings of a priest, the older man was as far removed from a man of the cloth, as Buck was from the term ‘monogamous relationship’. Josiah said it was due to a calling from the Goddess, and an inability to turn the other cheek. Which was as good a reason as any for Chris, especially since the big man would have been burned at the stake by certain factions of the Catholic Church for his natural way with magic.

“Pack for the unexpected. I’ll meet you at the airport.” Chris told Vin, nodding a farewell to the others and striding out of the bar, his black duster flapping it’s own farewell.

End

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