FfA fic: DeVilles
Cruella sniffed disdainfully as she stepped onto the flat, cheap carpeting of the airport. Collecting the pair of trunks that she'd brought with her, she strode confidently out to where a rental car was supposed to be waiting for her. So undignified, the whole mess. All she wanted to do was visit her father for the holidays, and there was this... hassle.
Naturally, it would be worse when she ran into the incompetent vampire minions. Really, they were only good for simple errands and alternate targets, and there was bound to be one of them too stupid to realize that she wasn't simply a meal. And the resulting death of the minions would probably get blood on her coat, and the last time she'd been to visit her father, there hadn't been a decent dry cleaner any closer than LA.
The hotel room that she'd reserved was barely adequate, but it would have to do. She deposited the trunks, opening one to pull out her holiday gift for her father. It had been quite difficult to make a proper scrying mirror, but it would be worth the effort. She'd even had it gift-wrapped in paper the exact shade of fresh blood - she'd checked to make certain. Locking the hotel room behind her, she headed for the cemetery, knowing that the most convenient entrance tot he tunnel and cave system was in the Lanover crypt.
"Go pester someone else, twit." She could hear the minion clumsily following her. "I have better things to do than deal with the likes of you."
For a moment, there was quiet, and she entertained the faint hope that the minon had left. But no, he growled, and grabbed at her arm, spinning her around to face him. "You're dinner!"
"Hardly." Fortunately, he'd grabbed the arm holding the mirror, leaving her other hand free. She struck, her nails tearing out his throat.
She'd even managed to strike deep and swift enough that her coat didn't get splattered.
Shrugging her coat back into place, she continued into the tunnels, pausing a few times to remember the correct turnings. If not for that blasted spell going wrong, Father could have visited her at the DeVille manor, and then she wouldn't have had to deal with idiot minions at all.
Finally, she came to the large cavern, noting that a large cross had been added since her last visit. Staring at it was a familiar figure, his bald head glimmering in the candlelight, and his body enveloped and buckled into black leather. Sensing her presence, he turned, pale face crinkling into a smile at the sight of her. "Cruella! Such a delight to see you again, my dear."
"I wanted to visit my family for the holidays." She moved closer, skin quivering as she passed through the barrier that trapped him in this room, over the Hellmouth. "Although my home is in a bit better shape."
He hugged her, strong arms holding her close. "A new coat? Really, my dear, don't you have enough of those yet?"
"But I live for fur. It's my one indulgence in this wretched world." Holding out the mirror, she murmured, "Merry Christmas, father."
His clawed hands ran over the paper, and he smiled before tearing it away. Frowning, he looked at the mirror. "Cruella, dear, you know I don't reflect."
"It's magic, father. The sort that the Queen had. And I must say that it was quite frustrating to bind a proper spirit into it to tell you things."
With a smirk, he held the mirror up, facing the surface, the candlelight highlighting the flecks of blood at the edges. "Mirror, mirror in my hand, who's the most dangerous in the land?"
A pale blue face blurred into view, and a hollow voice intoned "You are the most dangerous within the land, oh, dread master."
Smiling, he turned again to his daughter. "It's wonderful, my dear."
Cruella only smiled. It was good to know that she could still find the perfect gifts.