Xander
Xander sat in the back of the HQ meeting hall, watching Grayson speak to the entire group of Shadow Hunters. His voice had that quality that allowed him to project in a deep, clear tone despite seemingly only raising his volume a little bit. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he stood as still as a statue.
“As you all know by now, we have something of an issue with the Devil’s Spawn. The issue being, of course, that even one of them is still drawing air.”
The Hunters chatted eagerly to one another, happy to hear that Grayson was likely going to order them to finish the job they’d started. They wanted to take out the Spawn down to the last man.
“But before you all get too antsy about bloodying those fuckers up, I want you to know that any operation against them is forbidden. For now.”
More chattering broke out, but this new talk had a confused tone.
“Hush the fuck up, everyone,” said Grayson.
The group quickly complied.
“I’ve got a few men on it, and if you haven’t been already told about a special job, that means that you’re not going to be doing anything different than you have been. Your job is to make sure that the next phase in our operation expansion goes on without a hitch. With one change, however: you’re going to be keeping an eye out for any Spawn you see. We’ve gotten reports that Spawn have been sending out scouts to see what we’ve been up to. You see one while you’re working, you drop everything you’re doing and tell me or one of the VPs.”
A buzzing in Xander’s pocket snapped him out of his concentration. Sliding his phone out, he saw that he had a new message.
It was a voicemail from Daphne.
Quietly, he got out of his seat and headed out front of the HQ. Bringing the phone up to his ear, he listened to the message in its entirety.
When it was over, it took all the restraint he had to not get on his bike right then and there and scour the city until he found Scar and broke his neck like a twig. Instead, he took several deep breaths, shoved his phone back into his pocket, and returned to the meeting.
Walking in, he saw that Grayson was wrapping things up. Once Grayson was done, Xander sidled through the crowd and approached him.
“What’s up?” asked Grayson, evidently sensing that Xander had just received some important information.
Xander relayed what Daphne’s message had said, letting Grayson know specifically about the tire slashing.
“Fuck,” said Grayson. “That means that they’re not fucking around; they’re looking to make this shit violent faster than I’d anticipated.”
“You think we need to bring the war to them now?” asked Xander, his heart racing.
“Not just yet,” said Grayson. “I’m still determining just how we’re going to take them on. They’re trying to goad us into a fight, and if we rush after them in anger, we’re going to make some stupid mistakes. That’s what they’re counting on.”
Xander knew that Grayson was right, but that didn’t set aside his immediate concerns about Daphne.
“I have to do something,” he said. “If they hurt her to send a message …”
Grayson held up a hand.
“Do it,” said Grayson. “Call your girl and let her know, first of all, that you’re not behind this. Then let her know, within reason, just what the situation is. And offer your protection. You can keep an eye on her, so long as you don’t take the offensive.”
“Got it,” said Xander, now eager to call Daphne back.
“And don’t be stupid,” said Grayson. “This is a delicate situation.”
Xander nodded and rushed off to make the call. He pulled up her number and hit call, tapping his foot impatiently as the phone rang. Finally, she answered.
“Yes?” she asked, her voice edged with anger.
“Listen,” said Xander, trying to keep his tone cool despite all that was going on. “You need to know that it wasn’t me who slashed your tires.”
“Oh?” asked Daphne. “Then it was one of your fucking scumbag biker friends, huh? Not even doing your own dirty work, I see.”
Xander gritted his teeth.
“No,” he said. “You don’t understand—it’s not any of us. It’s a rival gang, and they’re not fucking around.”
He explained the situation with the Devil’s Spawn. He told her about how they were out for revenge, and how they must’ve known that Daphne and Xander were involved.
“I see,” said Daphne. “But why the hell should I believe you about any of this?”
“Why the fuck would I lie?” asked Xander. “Why would I follow you around, slash your tires, then lie about it?”
“To be honest, I don’t know what you’re capable of,” she said.
“Listen,” said Xander. “You have to let me come to your apartment and protect you. I’ll stay out of your way, just keeping an eye on your place and making sure nothing happens. And if that fucker shows up again, I’ll make sure that he doesn’t bother you ever again.”
“No,” said Daphne, her voice striking Xander as strangely worried. “I don’t want you or any of your fucking gang members around here. Just … leave me alone. I’ll figure this out myself.”
Then, without warning, she hung up. Xander held the phone out, making sure that she’d actually just hung up. He dialed her back, but it went straight to voicemail.
“Fuck!” he shouted, punching the side of the HQ hard enough to dent the wood.
But as he shoved his phone back into his pocket, he couldn’t help but wonder what Daphne’s motivation was for not telling him her address.
There’s something more to it, he thought. Something more than she’s letting on.
Xander headed back into the HQ. He didn’t have time to guess; there was too much work to be done.