**banner by Selene**
The Russian Doll
by Oracleholly

Summary:  Tale of Katya, a vampire in medieval Russia.  After her world was disrupted, vengeance became her reason for her unexistence. 
Warning: Rape, BDSM, Graphic Violence.
Disclaimer:  As this was written for The Watcher's Diaries's Tales of the Vampires project, the characters are mine, except for any appearances by someJossverse characters. If Joss' characters appear, please note, I don't own them.
A/N: My attempts to be as historically and geographically accurate as possible must be given credit to the following sites: http://www.dur.ac.uk/~dml0www/Russhist.HTML; http://www.veliky-novgorod.ru/htmleng/index.htm and various online encyclopedias and old textbooks of my history teacher father.

General notes: Boyar = member of old Russian aristocracy;  Great Mortality = the name many scholars and commentators of the time period referred to the Black Death;  Veche = popular assembly, made up of boyars, merchants


Chapter One

***1494 Moscow, Russia ***

Soon all her planning, all her hard work, and all her hiding her true thoughts would come to fruition. Hell, subterfuge was truly exhausting. Inwardly Katya mused that she might need a nap after her forthcoming meal. That fresh little Mongolian lamb would do well she considered, such a sinner, such a tasty morsel.

She would have her revenge. His blood would run rivers down her throat. His dust she would drink in sweet victory. Sonja would be proud of her. Vengeance took planning and time. Another would be pleased also, if she remembered.

"A woman's wrath holds no bounds, Katya." Yes, that lesson she never forgot. Other lessons drilled into her day after day, hour after hour. Careful, Katya. Such fond remembrances can open up unwanted avenues to your Sire, which would ruin the surprise. And her Sire so loved his surprises.

***1386 village next to Novgorod Veliky, Russia***

The bitter February winds swept over the frozen bed of the Volkhov. Katya gathered her fur tighter around her arms, as she vainly tried to keep warm on her journey to the immediate outskirts of Novgorod Veliky. She trudged hurriedly through the snow, her medicine bag tied securely to her waist. The messenger had said the boyar required her services for he had fallen ill.

Katya worried about this new illness that had befallen many of the nearby areas. During these winter months mysterious deaths had claimed the healthiest first. It made no sense to her. All of Sonja's teachings both magical and medical had been insufficient to prepare her for such a plague. The Great Mortality had passed thirty years before, but none of the symptoms of this Death matched the various forms the Mortality had taken. Many a night, Sonja would ruminate over having treated some peasant, some hunter, some child, and once even a monk.

Since the passing of the Great Mortality, Novgorod had been otherwise fortunate. The town had even been spared the brunt of the impact caused by the terror of the Mongols and Tartars, unlike their brothers and sisters to the south. Grand Prince Dmitrii of Moscow's defeat of the Mongols three years prior had helped some; however now Dmitrii, that damn Muscovite, wanted to rule over them. All justified in his eyes because Moscow now held sway as home to the patriarchate of the Church.

Thinking of the Church led her to consider the power held by this boyar who had requested her help. He must command great respect within the Council and the Veche-for the bishops usually frowned upon her services. No, the bishops, who held iron fisted power over the Veche not only in the Church but throughout all aspects of the territory, would never have casually permitted a woman, who not only believed in but also practiced magic, to enter such an important man's home. Although, while the Church elders disliked her, many were far too afraid of her powers to cross her.

The Church had not liked her mother either; she smiled internally. Her mother. Her Sonja. On cold evenings such as this, she especially missed Sonja. Katya missed seeing how the edges of Sonja's eyes already cavernous with age crinkled deeper when she laughed. How poorly her mother had sewn. How delicious was every stew she had ever made had tasted. Her stories.

Sonja repeatedly told her of the day in May when she had come upon a foundling, a toddler wandering alongside Lake Ilmen gathering wildflowers. No mother had claimed the strange child, so she'd adopted her as her own, naming her Katya after her favorite sister. Sonja had always believed that the Mother Goddess had blessed her by granting her Katya since the Goddess had not provided her with children of her own.

Sadly, the Goddess had reclaimed her faithful disciple the previous spring. Before her death, Sonja had bequeathed her the immense knowledge that had been passed down from previous generations of healing women dating back before Rurik to their Viking roots. Katya rubbed her amber amulet in respectful remembrance. She felt it hum soothingly in response.

As she approached the neighboring village to Novgorod, Katya's instinct immediately warned her to turn around and return home. The long trek did not matter, her heart told her. Her stomach, her purse and her head; however, argued against that strong feeling. She found it odd that the watchtower appeared vacant with no one acknowledging her arrival. While this village was afforded its protection from Novgorod, it was usual for men to stand sentry. Had Katya examined the tower closer, she might have noticed the pile of bodies so tightly stacked against the logs that their blood had permanently stained the wood a deep red.

Replaying the messenger's directions in her mind, Katya focused her energies on reaching the looming expanse on the other side of the town. She was not surprised to find no one about at this time of night, as most everyone should have been fast asleep readying themselves for the toils awaiting them in the next day. However, the quiet of the night did cause her to pull her coat tighter around her; or maybe that was just the cold.

That messenger had bothered her. His pale complexion denoted a definite lack of red meat in his diet, and she had fussed at him just as Sonja would have. Stranger still was his eerie laugh in response to her fussing that for a moment caused the tiny hairs on the back of her neck to rise. For a second, Katya could have sworn he looked as if he would have eaten her, but that was just silly thinking.

And perhaps that was what had disturbed her most, her visceral reaction to the young man. Katya had never known the touch of a man and never wanted to either. When Sonja had found her, Katya had been possibly four years old. Now she was considered an old maid at nineteen, but she did not care. Sonja had been married once to a horrible brute of a man who fortunately died during an unusually early March thaw of the lake. She never remarried, and Katya vowed she would follow Sonja's example. Til now, Katya never thought she would have any difficulties keeping that pledge. But the youth had stirred something inside her, which called to her feminine self long ignored, and she hated it.

His eyes had been a deep oceanic blue, his hair dark as midnight, but his lips were full and his frame was lean, and so unlike the men she normally saw. When he had asked for permission to enter her modest dwelling, Katya felt the ground slip underneath her feet. His voice shook her being. Catching herself staring, she had invited him in only to then act like a grandmother berating a child for not eating properly.

His laugh sealed her desire. Her body responded as she felt a sudden wetness in her crotch. In order to hide her blush and reaction, she quickly distanced herself from the youth. Had he sniffed the air? Fortunately once he had informed her of his master's wishes, he had departed. He had offered her passage on one of the boyar's mounts, but she needed to collect her items. Sending him ahead, she waved him off.

Now she wished she had told him to wait, her feet were sore from the walk. Her mare was sick and in no condition for this journey. Anybody else would not have cared for the horse, insisting on riding a sick animal, but not her. Finally though, she had arrived at the stone-wood house.

Before she could ring the bell at the gate, the entrance to the chalet-styled house opened and two servants quickly ushered her inside. Katya was struck immediately by the plush interior of the home. Apparently this boyar must be aristocracy of some sort. For decorating the main hall, were rich furs and beautiful carpets that must have been imported from the far away country of Persia that she had been told about. Exotic scents perfumed the air blocking out any smoky wood smells from the numerous hearths that blazed fiercely.

Such luxuries she could only have imagined in her dreams. Yes, of course, Novgorod thrived as a trade capital. Merchants here rivaled those in distance lands for wealth and power. Even nearby Kiev envied their strength, leaving them a sovereign power. Honey, flax, furs, tar, any number of items could be found at market… but she had never seen such delights as these.

Sonja had taught her to always keep her eyes and ears open for new herbs at market, for she herself had heard tales of healing properties of strange plants that grew only in the Far East toward the rising sun and to the south where the snow never hit the ground. Sonja had always bribed men who were traveling on religious missions to secretly gather and dry plants for her, so she could test them upon their return. The burn plant had been a great find indeed. Katya wondered if she had the time to ask this boyar if he had any extra herbs she may examine. What was she thinking? He was dying. She was here to heal him if she could, and all she could think about was the possibility of some new herbs!

A girl roughly her age approached motioning her to follow. "Come please, the duke wished to meet with you as soon as you arrived. The master is so happy that you have come."

"Of course," Katya answered smiling, "tell me, how long has your lord been ill? It will help me understand what I have to do."

The girl hesitated in her step and turned toward her. "It is not my place to tell you such things, miss."

When the girl had faced her, Katya's breath caught in her throat and fear coursed throughout her body. Fortunately the girl had turned away again just as quickly. Shaking her head to clear it of the image etched in her mind, Katya thought it must have been a trick of the candlelight. Surely that girl did not just have ridges in her forehead and amber eyes. No, she dismissed that lunacy attributing it to the long walk in the dead of night, through the cold snow with little food in her belly.

She continued to follow the servant girl deeper into the ever darker, winding passages of the "duke's" home. Katya soon realized that without assistance she would be helpless to find the way back to the exit. The abode must have been built with invaders in mind. A carefully crafted inner maze protected the owner if ever outside forces, such as bandits and thieves -sadly very common- decided to prey upon the occupants and plunder or worse, murder.

Then again, Katya sniffed the air and smelt the faintest hint of burnt incense; this duke might have a magician on his payroll. Was this maze a result of a cloaking or confusion spell?

Before she was able to finish that thought they had arrived at the duke's chamber. The servant girl knocked once and then entered.

Katya's eyes immediately beheld the back of a very ornate chair centered before an enormous hearth roaring with fire. Gems embedded in the wood sparkled in the flickering firelight. Beside the chair was a round table covered with fine cloth and stocked with a cornucopia of foods and wines. Her mouth watered at the sight of the table's contents, and much to her shame her stomach rumbled loudly.

A deep, melodious laughter filled the chamber echoing off the walls. "Mikeal, prepare a seat for our guest; for she has traveled quite a ways on foot this night," the voice commanded from behind the chair.

Katya was startled to see the beautiful youth messenger seemingly emerge from somewhere hidden within the walls. Setting a chair to an appropriate distance opposite the master of the chamber, Mikeal bowed respectfully at the unseen host. Subtly though, he winked at her as he stepped away from his master.

"So this is the famous Katya. Healer. Medicine woman. The bishops did not wish for me to call upon you, nor did they speak kindly of you or of your mother. But Mikeal tells me that you're good at your craft, perhaps you will be my salvation where the Church has failed." Still the boyar had not revealed himself to her, remaining fixed in his seat.

"…Umm….I…" Just as she was getting ready to apologize for her stomach, the mysterious boyar interrupted.

"My dear Katya, come, eat, for I have little appetite these days. I will derive pleasure from watching you savor these delights. Here sit."

Suddenly, Mikeal appeared at her elbow, holding it. She looked at where Mikeal held, no, caressed her arm. His touch though cool caused her stomach to flop-not from any form of starvation involving food. Timidly glancing into his eyes, Katya found his blue ones focused solely on hers.

"Thank you," she began.

"My pleasure, Miss Katya." He cooed softly.

Once seated Katya was able to study her employer. He was an older man, gray about his temples and facial hair. His body was gaunt with yellowish skin, with lifeless eyes, pale lips and a bluish hue to his fingernails. She had her work cut out for her. Something appeared to be eating away at the man. Someone had wisely bundled him in furs, instead of allowing any possible fever to worsen.

"Sir, how long, may I ask, have you been feeling ill? When did you notice this begin?" Sonja had always said that all illnesses required questions, and not to let anybody tell her any different. Never rush to judgment.

"Four days ago."

Only four days! Impossible. His symptoms, if it was a failure of an internal matter and not some spiritual curse like she believed, betrayed his words for most surely they had to be gradual. Not this immediate. Even the Great Mortality had not acted this swiftly.

"My lord…?"

"First, eat a little Katya. You must be strong. Isn't that right, Mikeal?"

"Yes, my lord. She must." Mikeal answered.

Thus commanded, she munched on some bread and roast pork. However, as hungry as she might have been, the sight of the jaundiced lord opposite her ruined whatever she appetite she had had. Sipping her wine, she planned how she might start treatment…stones…herbal potion…incantation.

Fingering her amulet, as was her nervous habit, she cleared her throat; "I'll need to examine you in order to determine exactly what I might be able to do. Prayer still might work, if you believe in Him. I never discount the power behind prayers."

"Yet, you do not attend the Church. I see no Holy Cross adorning you neck," The lord countered.

Slightly miffed, but not unused to such questions, Katya smiled. "No, you are correct. I am not a baptized member of the Holy Church, but that doesn't mean I do not believe in the Holy Mother. But I must be careful what I say, for you might be a spy for the Church's bishops. So I will leave it at that. If you want my help, I will try to do so; but do not try to convert me one way or another."

A creepy smirk grew upon the boyar's face, "Agreed. So you'll help, and I'll be well again and able to ride my horses across the prairies once more. Yes, yes… tomorrow will come soon enough. I grow weary and need to retire for the remainder of the night. I'll have Alexia show you to your bedchamber." He rang a bell and a new servant arrived - an older woman approaching middle age heavy in her curves and white already in her hair.

***********

Katya knew she had to be dreaming since Sonja stood before her in a garden blooming with strange flowers of vibrant colors, somewhere she had never been. Yet despite the beauty of their surroundings, Sonja's expression was extremely sad. Sonja tried to speak to her, but Katya could not hear the words. Every step closer seemed to move Sonja even further away. Tears, Sonja's tears, were her focus as everything suddenly blurred.

The feel of her clothes being ripped from her body savagely woke her from her dream. Sharp, cold nails raked down her breasts. Katya overcame her initial shock of the violation, trying to see her attacker in the pitch darkness of the room. She began to struggle against what felt like a large stone weighing on her. All she could see was a faint outline of what was obviously man.

"No! Stop!" she kept repeating. Tears had begun streaming down her face. Her attacker started to laugh, temporarily stopping her cries. With dawning horror she realized she knew that laugh; Mikeal was her violator! Continuing her struggle with renewed vigor, she fought harder. How dare he!?

The bastard licked her tears with a rough tongue. Turning her head to take advantage, she lashed out and scratched at his face. Icy terror hit her spine as her fingertips felt bumps on his forehead and amber glowing eyes flashed delightfully at her in the darkness. He wasn't a man at all; he was some kind of monster! A demon! Her brain froze as it tried to process all that was happening.

"Oh do that again! Such a vicious bitch you are. Makes it all the better." He growled at her.

He forced his lips against hers, and she immediately closed her mouth. Refusing to allow him entrance, his sharp teeth cut her lips drawing blood. He began suckling at her mouth, tasting the blood; savoring it. Finally realization dawned, and her brain registered 'vampire.'

She tried to kick him away from her to no avail. With one of his hands he grabbed both of hers holding them fast, closing his other around her throat. As she gasped for air, his tongue struck. Biting his tongue as a reflex, she almost gagged as blood pooled in her mouth. At the same time, his knees pried hers apart, the sharp planes of his hips jutting into her upper thighs.

As her need for air became desperate Katya shook her head violently. Amazingly, the vampire allowed her to breathe. However, her relief evaporated immediately as his fangs grazed the side of her throat. Like a hare that remains frozen a second before its predator strikes, Katya uncontrollably stilled. Afraid if she moved, he would kill her instantly, she became like petrified wood.

Obviously not enjoying her reaction as much as he did her fighting, the monster at her throat whom the boyar had called Mikeal, snarled. "You think you can escape me by cowering in your mind. Not a chance, little girl. I will taste all of you."

"Please, don't. Stop this. Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because I can. I've watched you for some time. In fields gathering herbs, in peasant's homes comforting those left behind after my minions fed upon their kin, playing God by healing and cheating death. But you are not a god little girl. Your mother taught you much, but I'll teach you so much more!"

"NO! My mother…?" The mention of Sonja renewed her determination to extricate herself anyway she could. Spitting in his face, she lashed out once more, "Bastard! Monster! Get off of me…"

The amber at her throat started to burn, and with strength she hadn't known she possessed she bucked Mikeal off of her. Naked, but free, Katya ran from the bed toward where she hoped she remembered the door was located. She didn't care that she didn't have clothes, she would try to grab one of the furs on her way out; she just had to run.

"Oh, Katya, my darling girl, you're making this so much fun. Such spirit!" He mocked behind her. The sound of his clapping hands and laughter echoed throughout the room.

She stumbled over some object, falling to the hard, stone floor. "Oh dear, such a short chase. Back to bed with you." He said as he grabbed her by the waist and flung her like a rag doll back upon the bed.

Flipping her to her stomach with her face smashed against the mattress, Mikeal had her winded and angry. She tried to get to her knees, which unfortunately she did not realize was the position he wanted her in. Suddenly his hands clawed her hips and his cold cock was thrust inside her ripping asunder her virginal passage.

Blinding pain coursed through her body, and she cried out involuntarily. She knew she had to be bleeding; his cock felt enormous, as he continued pounding into her. He was grunting like a wild boar, and she could not stop the pain. She tried to concentrate like Sonja had taught her, to shield her mind from pain, but to no avail.

If she lived through this, she would slit his throat and cut off all his parts. She would find a way to kill him slowly. With revenge in her mind, she felt the agony of his fangs as they descended into her neck. Feeling her life force fading fast as he continued to drink and fuck her. She would haunt him perhaps. He was killing her; vengeance could not be hers.

She had blacked out from the loss of blood, because the next thing she remembered was the rush of blood flowing into her mouth and the command, "Drink." She recalled thinking she shouldn't, but the voice called her to obey. By allowing a little, her body demanded more. Too soon the source of her nourishment disappeared and everything became black.

*** 1494

She gripped her silver hairbrush so tightly it snapped into pieces as Katya relived the rape and the night she became a vampire once more. Mikeal had not been content to kill her and make her a minion, oh no, he had to conquer her, make her his Childe. He had the decency to wait until she had awoken to once more feed her his blood, and then start the 'breaking in'. For days it continued. He had been so delighted to find a virginal 'bride,' to make his Childe, and all the better to have one who had magical abilities to exploit.

A bulky, smelly minion entered her chamber announcing that the Master wanted her presence for the feast tonight. Mikeal sent her this Muscovite knowing full well how she hated them. Killing the minion on sight would tip him off, so discretion would have to be her friend just a little while longer. This feast, how typical of him. So vain! All in his honor. Well, she had a little presentation, which she thought might suit the occasion, she reflected with vicious glee.



Thank Yous: Slinkypsychokit for doing a quick beta and Waywardchilde and Slaymesoftly for their read throughs.

Chapter Two

*****
1494, Moscow, Russia

Seated at an acquired vanity, Katya brushed her long locks to a fine, silky sheen. With humor she sat facing the mirror, which held no reflection of her beauty. The Muscovite minion had left her presence quickly after announcing his Master’s request.

The minion knew that while he respected his Master’s temper, his Mistress with her mercurial moods was to be feared. The minion knew he wasn’t a favorite in her court. While his Master liked him, his Mistress did not. Yet, he was not of the station to question the workings of his family. So, he obeyed and tried to stay out of the way as much as possible. That brief, lethal glint in his Mistress’ eye when he first had entered the room, scared him, and he intended to keep far away from her this evening.

With humor Katya had read all these thoughts on the minion’s mind. She might keep him around yet. He was smarter than the average minion and had a healthy sense of self-preservation.

She would miss this room; it had afforded her some privacy from the rest of the clan. The palace itself had been acquired through Mikeal’s modus operandi. He would send scouts to different regions to gather information on the political framework and gossip of a town. Mikeal would then mull over the information provided before deciding where and who would be his next target. Unlike some of the younger clans, Katya had met through her century of unlife; Mikeal was truly a student of the old school vampires. Instead of mixing with the dredges of society, most of the older lines moved about in the upper crusts of society. Katya had heard, however, that the Master of the Aurelian line believed in living underground and separate from the mortal scum. Of course, she’d also heard that he’d lived for so long, his human features had completely disappeared; reportedly he resembled a bat.

Mikeal had targeted the boyar of this palace after learning that he’d fallen upon some hard times financially. Mikeal had sent correspondence introducing himself and his services, relating to the lord his “family’s” tradition of providing discrete financial advice for certain named gentry. Of course, said references in the correspondence either lived far away or has since passed from the mortal coil. However, the names themselves were well recognizable. And that paved the way for many an introduction.

Eager for the help of such an important member of a family of advisors, a lord would invite Mikeal and his court to stay with him and advise him through his time of troubles. Mikeal had played this game every decade or so, in order to hide in plain sight in society, and he had done so here. Katya shook her head at the absurdity of Mikeal’s belief that no one suspected him of the atrocities that would ‘mysteriously’ occur once his ‘court’ came to a town. The locals knew better; the gentry blinded by promises of riches did not.

Katya could hear the beginning melodious strains of the orchestra hired for this occasion. Her senses tingled with the smell of the various bloodlines entering the palace. So many clans and families had come for the gathering. Such events were not common, since infighting typically prevented them. However, Mikeal held sway over many families. He was the consummate diplomat of the vampire community. In a disagreement between tribes, each side would attempt to gain Mikeal’s support; he was that well regarded.

As much as part of her demon respected the power and influence her Sire held, that begrudging respect did little so assuage how much her demon railed against any warm feelings toward the bastard. She would never forget, and she would never forgive. While tonight would be the culmination of her vengeance, she had successfully committed various acts of treason against her Sire for many decades. He was an unwitting fool! Yet, he prided himself in thinking he had tamed the wild witch of Novgorod. Little did he know.

Standing, Katya prepared to start her stroll to her destiny. If she lived through the night, it would take all her cunning and all her ability. Fingering her amber pendant, heat flickered at her for the briefest of moments. She ran her fingers through her silk finery draping her petite frame. Mikeal had encouraged her interest in purchasing a new gown for his ceremony. She’d met with some of their best dressmakers to get the cut and the color just right. Mikeal had been surprised by her color choice; he’d said she’d not picked a suitable color for his Mistress. Instead of playing the meek, tamed Childe, Katya seductively explained how the amber color would not detract from his greatness. She reasoned with him that all eyes should be on him, not her. The fool was convinced, and here she stood in her amber gown, her matching pendant resting between her full breasts.

“Coming to help me, my dear?” Katya whispered in the apparently empty room. A small smile graced her face. “You know I can sense you; there’s no need to hide from me.”

“Stealth is necessary for the moment, Katya. I can’t afford anyone to know I’m here before I’m to officially arrive,” replied the petite, brunette. “You know how my master is. He doesn’t like it that I heard your call as those years ago. I’m still on probation for going to you even after he told me not to.” The demon huffed and moved to the settee, collapsing in a heap. Her bottom of her green gown rose seductively to mid-calf.

“Anyanka, my dearest friend, I appreciate the risks you’ve taken to see me before the event.” Katya moved to sit next to the prone vengeance demon, picking up her hand to hold it. Squeezing the hand, Katya added, “Had it not been for you all those years ago, I would have lost my mind.”

“You were a human woman who had been raped and hurt in the worst way imaginable. Your desire for vengeance called to me across the dimensions. Unfortunately, I was in the middle of another task, which kept me from immediately teleporting to you. By the time that chore was completed, D’Hoffyrn prevented me from coming.”

“I know.”

“I still don’t understand why we don’t grant vengeance to fellow demons. Something about an ancient accord. I mean… you were human when the wish was made, not your fault you were turned by the time I could get to you. Besides, I think vengeance is vengeance; the more vengeance we can exact, the more power D’Hoffyrn could acquire.” Shrugging her shoulders with a frown marring her delicate brow, Anyanka continued, “But who am I? I’m but a servant at his command.” Anya lamented.

“I’m not saying I understand the reasons why he refused to allow you to help me in the normal way. Still, he had to know what actions you took afterwards. He may claim he doesn’t, but he’s not one to turn a complete blind eye.” Katya began stroking Anyanka’s forearm. “I’m glad you’re here, my friend.”

“Yes, my desire to see your vengeance wrought compels me to come, notwithstanding my engraved invitation.” Anyanka sat up. “Do you have everything in place before I have to leave to return to D’Hoffryn’s side?”

“Yes, everything’s as it should be.”

“If you live through this, I will be glad. If not, you’ve been a friend for a long time. Sonya would have been pleased with you.” With those parting words, Anyanka popped out of the room.

Blood tears started to form in Katya’s eyes. ‘Sonja.’

*****
1386, Novgorod – Veliky, Russia

Hunger… an insatiable hunger overwhelmed her senses. Katya had awoken this time without the presence of her Sire, the bastard Mikeal, ready to rape her again. He’d forced her to drink from him when she first regained consciousness. Afterwards she’d felt her body dying, an agonizing feeling, yet at the same time, very freeing.

The next time she had woke Mikeal had brutally continued his assault. That time he had controlled her body – a simple command here, a suggestion there. As her mind screamed at the violation, she watched helplessly as her body contorted to his whim. Yet, some sick voice whispered to her that she should be happy to please her Sire – that his pleasure and happiness were superior to her own. Katya wanted to find the source of that voice and destroy it.

Somehow in the midst of that madness, Katya found a mental refuge. She pictured her times with Sonja – happier times. Mikeal apparently didn’t realize or more likely didn’t care that Katya was no longer wholly with him.

Now, she had returned from the land of dreams without Mikeal ready to resume his ‘training.’ Breathing an unnecessary sigh of relief, Katya began the painful movements of getting out of the wretched bed. Her senses now heightened, she could smell the dried blood and remnants of his cold semen coating her body. The sheets reeked with odors of her repeated rapes.

As she placed her feet on the stone floor, Katya’s amber pendant warmed considerably. Katya grew afraid that the heat would scorch her. Trying to recall everything Sonja had ever told her about vampires, Katya knew that something wasn’t right. Her pendant wasn’t the symbol of the Christian God – it shouldn’t burn her or cause her pain. With that knowledge, she reassessed the feeling from her pendant – it wasn’t actually causing her pain, just warming her skin. She rubbed the pendant, thinking that maybe, just maybe, Sonja hadn’t deserted her.

Suddenly a flash lit the room startling Katya. Her eyes temporarily blinded by the intrusion of the bright light. Once her eyes readjusted, Katya saw a woman… yes, a woman, but not a human woman, standing before her. The woman appeared human but for her face. She almost looked as if she had been burned in a massive fire, her skin almost resembling the muscles underneath.

“You’re pain and cry for vengeance has called me forth. I am Anyanka,” declared the stranger.

Katya couldn’t help but stare. Was this Anyanka the answer to her prayer?

As if the woman could read her mind, the demon tilted her head and said, “Yes, I am a vengeance demon, and usually I would answer your cry. Unfortunately, my master has decreed you are not to be helped.”

Blood tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. “So what are you doing here then, if not to help me seek my vengeance?”

Anyanka seemed disturbed, a frown marring her brow. “Don’t misunderstand me. I want to help you. I just can’t. It seems that my kind only cater to the wishes of filthy humans. But you are Katya, I had to come.”

The last part surprised Katya and confused her. How did this demon know me? “What do you know of me? Who am I to you?”

“You are Katya, adoptive daughter of Sonja, friend of Anyanka.”

“You knew Sonja?”

“Oh yes, I befriended her long before you came into her care. I do not normally make it my practice to fraternize with humans, but when I first met her, I was trying to recruit her for D’Hoffryn, my master.”

“What do you mean recruit?”

“Sonja had just performed a particularly delicious bout of vengeance on a most deserving male, so D’Hoffryn ordered me to see if she would like to join our world. You see, as much as I am ashamed to admit this, I once was a human female myself. D’Hoffryn recruited me personally. I was elevated, given the status of a vengeance demon. My master wanted Sonja in his employ. Such power, such pain. She was truly unique.”

“So, she obviously wasn’t elevated into a demon. How did you become friends?”

“Well, you should know what a lovely person she was.”

“Yes,” Katya answered, sniffling a little. Memories of how Sonja cared for her, the talks, the laughter, all cascaded her mind.

“Not everyone liked her. They were afraid of her power, her abilities. She could be very lonely, but she told a good joke. The male she had performed her act of vengeance on was her husband – abusive lout of a man.”

Katya discovered that she wasn’t much surprised by this revelation; deep down she’d always thought Sonja had a hand in it. “So she told me. So you were her friend, why can’t you help her daughter?”

Sighing Anyanka found a seat and sat down. “Believe me, I want to, but D’Hoffryn has forbidden it. I argued with him, that at the time of your wish, you were still a human. The fact remains that now you are not. I don’t like it, but I have to obey his order.”

“So then why are you here, if you aren’t supposed to be?”

“I’ve thought about it, and perhaps I can help you without granting your wish. Would you like me to assist you with a bath? I remember when you were a tiny girl. Sonja called to me after she first found you, asking me to find out where you came from. I saw how you warmed her heart. You made my friend very happy. I will do what I am able to help you now. No woman – human or demon – should have to be forced to copulate as you were, unless you like pain, but still to be forced…”

“Wait. You know where I came from? Sonja never told me.”

Anyanka seemed to pause a beat before answering. “Knowing wouldn’t help you now. It would just add to your pain.”

“Why?”

“Because where you came from … no, I’m going to respect Sonja’s wishes. She wished for you to have a happy childhood. She loved you greatly.”

“I loved her too. I miss her. I thought I lost her. Right before Mikeal…”

“Mikeal!? Mikeal did this to you?”

“Yes, you know him?”

“Everybody in the demon world knows Mikeal. Master vampire, negotiator to most clans. He did this to you?”

“I said yes, the answer remains the same. Why do you look so shocked?”

“Because Mikeal is not known for committing such … violence on a woman. Females desire his attention. He does not lack for female companions.” Anyanka answered, still clearly confused with the knowledge that Katya’s sire was Mikeal. “What happened?”

“Don’t even begin to tell me that I did something to deserve this treatment? I was a virgin. I came here to answer the call of a sick boyar. If you think that I in someway asked for this, you can just leave… vanish.” Katya spat, her anger rising. Now standing, she began to make her way to the washbasin.

“I apologize… I certainly didn’t mean to sound like I thought you had done something. No, I’m just shocked. Mikeal has never been on my radar… I should know, my particular calling is to grant vengeance for scorned women.” Taking a cloth, Anyanka dipped it into the water and held it out for Katya to take. “Here. Let me find you a clean dress.”

Taking the cloth, Katya began to wash her face. Silence descended into the room. Startled she turned and saw that Anyanka had disappeared. Then she heard the creak of the door being opened; she watched its opening with apprehension. Upon seeing the visitor wasn’t Mikeal, Katya relaxed slightly.

“What do you want?” she demanded.

“I’ve come to see to your needs, Mistress. Master says that he requests your presence in the main hall shortly.”

Katya noticed the minion seemed nervous and would not look at her in the eye. Mistress? “Why do you call me Mistress? What is your name?”

For the briefest of seconds, the minion gazed her startled eyes at her new Mistress. “Does Mistress not know how she has been honored? Mistress is the Master’s newest Childe. He bestowed a great honor on you. You will rule at his side. My name’s Catherine, Mistress.”

Childe? Honored? Rule at his side? Too confused to process all that Catherine had told her, Katya mumbled an order for the girl to bring her something to drink. The minion backed out of the room. Immediately after the door closed, Anyanka reappeared.

“That was close. I so do not need anyone finding out I’m here.” Handing over a beautifully cut dress, Anyanka then moved to a wardrobe and selected some shoes.

“Anyanka, would you please explain what has happened to me – besides becoming a vampire that is.”

Anyanka turned, her expression serious. “You’ve been made into Mikeal’s childe. A childe has a higher status than a mere minion. A childe usually lives to please his or her sire. You’ve probably already felt the desire to please Mikeal. I know he used his Sire’s voice on you.”

“Sire’s voice?”

“A Sire can command his Childer to obey using a certain tone in his voice. You also need to be careful with your thoughts – lots of Sire/Childe bonds carry with it the ability of the Sire to know the feelings of their Childe.”

“Yes, I have felt the desire to please Mikeal, but more so I have the overwhelming need to drain him dry and bash his bones. Is that normal?”

“Not so much no. But in rare cases, and I think you are one of those, a Childe retains much of who they were as a human. You’ll most likely discover that you’ve retained your power as a witch, but it will be enhanced. Which is probably why….”

“Why what?” Katya noticed that Anyanka started to get twitchy.

“Why he probably made you his Childe.” She stammered out. Katya remained silent, hoping Anyanka would continue. She did. “He would gain more power if he had the abilities of a witch by his side. He already holds considering influence on the other vampire courts, the addition of a witch would only enhance his position.”

“I WILL NOT be used as his toy! He will not benefit from my abilities.” Blinding rage filled her body. Then suddenly she felt something like a cool whip in her mind. Her face became paler. What was that?

Anyanka shifted slightly. “Be careful. Did you get a reprimand? Remember I told you that he would be able to sense your feelings. Perhaps the link isn’t as strong as he believes. You’ll have to test that. The stronger your emotion, the more likely he’ll be able to feel you.”

Calming her rage to a simmer, she thanked Anyanka for her wisdom. “I’ll have to see what thoughts or feelings he can read from me. Listen; will you be my confidante? Someday I will have my revenge, but today is not that day.”

“For the daughter of Sonja, I will stand by you. But now I must go. Be careful.” With that Anyanka flashed out of sight.

*******
1494, Moscow, Russia

And so the day of her vengeance had finally come. Katya savored the delicious setting in which her revenge would take place. His ‘broken’ Childe in front of all the representatives of the other vampire courts and other demon communities would fell Mikeal, king of all egos. She would be committing the greatest sin – killing one’s Sire – but she didn’t care.

He’d thought he knew her thoughts and feelings. He’d thought he had tamed her. He thought he knew the extent of her powers. He was wrong.

Katya had quickly discovered much to her delight that the connection between her and her Sire was weak at best. Perhaps her amulet and her ability to control her thoughts had prevented a strong link. He could only know her strong emotions. She was able to act submissive even when gritting her teeth.

As she could her emotions, Katya had hid most of her abilities and talents from her Sire. That insidious voice tried to protest, but Katya had always managed to silence that voice. She hated her Sire, and no part of her would be allowed to feel any allegiance to him. Of course, when it suited her purposes, she had defended his territory or shielded the clan from those who wished to do them harm. But on the whole, she watched and learned as she bided her time.

Now, the time had come and she didn’t want to be late for her triumph.

Chapter 3

Thank Yous: Thank you Slaymesoftly and Slinkypsychokit for their beta/read throughs and Slinky for telling me what a sick, sick woman I am.

Warning: This chapter contains graphic violence.

******
1494, Moscow, Russia

Katya entered the grand ballroom and greeted those she knew as she made her way to her place at the head table. The celebration was in full swing. She checked off some of the different faces she knew – Jin Li from the Kappa line, Nicholai from the Vlachmires, Lillian from the Carpathians and even the Prince of Lies had decided to attend. Lillian was rumored to be actually Lilith, Adam’s first wife, and at times, Katya had sensed the ancient vampiress to be older than she claimed. Jin also told the most amusing stories. The Grand-Sire of Jin’s line, Kappa, had been named a deity in Japan. Very amusing.

Katya had just been seated when D’Hoffryn made his entrance. Anyanka and a few other vengeance demons were in his company. Casually, she lifted her goblet and drank a taste of the rich, warm blood. Boyar, she thought just before D’Hoffryn appeared before her.

“My dear Katya, you look especially lovely this evening.”

Katya appraised the green, devilish looking demon standing in front of her. His purple robes accentuated his coloring. “As do you, my Lord D’Hoffryn. I’m very happy that you’ve chosen to honor us with your presence.”

“My dear, would you care to dance? I find this song calling to me.” D’Hoffryn held out his right hands, in which Katya placed hers. Standing Katya answered, “I would be delighted.” She was able to shoot a questioning glance at Anyanka to which she received a confused shrug.

Once on the dance floor, D’Hoffryn began twirling her about the room. Other demons and vampires commented on the couple’s adeptness. Katya almost looked human as her cheeks flushed with the recent influx of blood.

As they twirled into an almost deserted corner, D’Hoffryn leaned in close and whispered, “I’m looking forward to the entertainment you are providing tonight.”

Alarmed, Katya tensed and shot a wary glance into his eyes. “Be not distressed, my dear one. While I could not sanction Anyanka’s assistance to you years ago, I’ve kept an interest in your welfare. You were after all Sonja’s child.”

Katya mumbled, “I thank you, my Lord.”

“Sonja would have been proud of you, my child. Sonja did not tell you, but it was I who placed you on her path. I saw such potential in you, little one, and I knew Sonja would nurture your craft. It was a shame that one so creative as Sonja turned down my offer for elevation, but it was just as well. She was able to adopt you.”

Tears threatened to form and Katya felt as if her throat had been coated with tar. She pleaded with her eyes for more answers. When none seemed forthcoming, she managed to squeak out, “You? You helped me when I was but a child?”

“Yes, little one. Do you not remember your Hoffy?” D’Hoffryn smiled gently.

Hoffy? Hoffy! As if the century that had passed simply vanished, Katya found herself watching a scene by a lake she recognized. She watched as D’Hoffryn stood by the lake holding the tiny hand of a girl approximately four-years old. Katya gasped as she realized she was that the little girl.

“Hoffy?”

“Yes, my child.” D’Hoffryn responded to the child.

“No more hit?”

“No more, little one. The bad people are all gone now. You made sure of that.”

“In the fire?”

“Yes. You wanted them gone, wanted all your pain to stop, and you made that happen.”

“Can I go with you?”

“No, my child. Not yet anyway. Perhaps when you are older, if you still wish to be with me, you may come live where I do.”

“But I want to now.” The child Katya stamped her foot in aggravation.

D’Hoffryn chuckled. “Sweet Katya, you’ll be happy with your new mother. Why don’t you go pick her some flowers? I’ll watch you from the forest.”

“Okay, Hoffy. Love you.” The child Katya ran with chubby legs to a nearby gathering of wildflowers.

“Ah, my child… love you too,” whispered D’Hoffryn before he melded into the coverage of the forest.

Soon, Katya watched as a much younger Sonja came to the lake and found the child gathering flowers. She observed Sonja looking around, but not seeing D’Hoffryn who had basically made himself invisible. Then Sonja took the hand of the child and led her away, on the path Katya knew would lead to her old home.

“You were the one!” Katya came out of her memory; one that she never knew existed and cautiously looked at D’Hoffryn. “You showed me that didn’t you? I vaguely remember Sonja telling me to stop trying to find Hoffy. As I got older, I believed Hoffy had to be an imaginary friend that my younger self had conjured. But it was you, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, I was your Hoffy.”

“What did I do? What did you mean when you told … the child me that I made sure the bad people were gone?”

“As powerful as you are Katya, you really don’t have a guess?”

“I killed them?”

“You set them on fire, after a particular brutal round of beatings, my child. The pain you were in summoned me. I was most surprised to find the source of vengeance to be a child not yet five years old.”

“I…”

“You did what you had to do to survive, my dear. Never feel shame for that.” D’Hoffryn soothed. “You were much too young to elevate, and your power would possibly cause your early death had I not thought of a solution.”

“Sonja,” Katya stated simply.

Nodding, D’Hoffryn agreed, “Sonja.” Twirling her once again, D’Hoffryn continued, “I was greatly angered when Mikeal chose you to be his Childe, but by the time I knew what was to pass, I could do nothing to stop it. My hands were tied. I could not so publicly allow Anyanka to grant your wish of vengeance, despite my desire to see it done. So, to calm any of your remaining fears, I will not stop you from carrying out your plan. Instead, I will savor your victory. Perhaps if you wish, you may desire to return with me to Arashmaha.”

“Perhaps,” Katya relaxed, smiling, “if I am able to succeed tonight. However, I wouldn’t wish to cause you any trouble by disappearing with your company.”

“Once ‘he’ is dead…”

“You know as well as I that what I plan is a cardinal sin. The other lines will seek to make an example of me.”

“Some will, some won’t. ‘He’ does not have as many allies as ‘he’ pretends to have. Still be careful, my dear.”

******

Mikeal had made his boring welcoming speech and had traveled around the room speaking to various ‘honored’ guests. Katya had watched all this with disgust. Such a weakling her Sire was, why didn’t the other vampires see him for what he really was?

The meal had just begun, and Katya knew her moment had arrived. As some servants started pouring wine, blood, and other strange concoctions into goblets, others began bringing out imprisoned humans for samplings. During this confusion, Katya slinked her way to her Sire. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Katya felt his hand pat hers. Then he grabbed her wrist, tugging her down onto his lap.

“My little Russian doll, come to share with me? I’ve had my eye on that human there.” Katya followed the invisible trail from Mikeal’s finger in the direction of a hearty, brown-haired male.

“He does look tasty Sire. He’s not Russian, is he?”

“You’ve always had an excellent eye, Childe. No, he’s Persian, a trader if I recall correctly.”

“Perhaps he could be our dessert, Sire. May I have a taste?” Katya raked her nails down the back of his neck, just the way her Sire liked it, while she rubbed her ass against his growing member.

Mikeal’s eyes flashed yellow for a moment before returning to their normal hue. “Just a sip.”

“Thank you Sire.” With his permission, Katya used her the nail of her index finger on her left hand to cut a line across the artery in his neck. Blood pooled onto her tongue, and she felt the infusion of old power come into her. She properly licked his wound as she whispered some words that she knew Mikeal would not recognize. Her amber pendant flickered had anyone noticed, but no one did.

“Very well, my Childe. I see that the Prince of Lies is trying to capture your attention. Go see what that disgusting excuse for a vampire wants.” Mikeal ordered, roughly shoving her off his lap. No one noticed and she covered it well. She’d had years of practice after all.

Making her way to the Prince of Lies, she caught Anyanka’s eye and nodded. It had begun.

******

Deftly Katya retrieved her handkerchief from her décolleté and surreptitiously cleaned her left index finger. Anyanka ‘accidentally’ bumped into her and loudly apologized. In reality, Katya slipped the handkerchief to Anyanka, after which the vengeance demon would find a nice fire to destroy the now dangerous linen. Katya almost hated to part with one piece of evidence of her revenge. But it had to be done.

Over the years, Katya had secretly researched various spells and potions from other lands that could help her achieve her revenge. Her Sire of course was completely ignorant of her research. Providing her the perfect cover, Katya was able to research what she wanted and obtain necessary ingredients throughout the years whenever Mikeal desired for her to perform certain rituals for him. Those who might have questioned why she would acquire a certain ingredient soon found themselves mysteriously dusted. Her strongest threat met the end of a Slayer’s stake.

Carefully compiling her cache of potent components, Katya finally had all the elements in place. While the toxin she brewed would not in itself kill her Sire, accompanied by a certain curse, it would incapacitate him for a period of time. The beauty of her potion was that it was odorless, tasteless, and most importantly undetectable in the blood. It also was slow acting, so that she would be able to separate herself from her Sire before it took effect. No one would suspect her of anything, until later when she planned to execute her Sire.

Katya had applied a sufficient amount of the potion onto her index finger of her left hand and plotted a way to administer it to her Sire. When she sliced her Sire’s neck with that nail, the potion immediately entered his bloodstream. Anyanka had been worried that Katya would incapacitate herself in the process of delivering the potion. But what Anyanka didn’t know was that Katya had taken the time to patiently build up a tolerance to the poison. It no longer affected her. Therefore, she was able to drink and lick her Sire’s neck without fear.

If anyone had overheard her whispered words, no one would have been able to understand them. They weren’t Latin, they weren’t Aramaic; they were basically nonsense, but the feeling behind them gave them power. Perhaps Lillian would have understood, if she was in fact Lilith, but she had given no indication that she had heard.

The Prince of Lies held out his gray hand, his nails elongated more since the last time they’d met. Katya allowed him to take her hand and kiss her palm. She suppressed a shudder of revulsion. “My dear Prince, I’m so pleased you were able to attend. My Sire expressed to me how happy he was that you could make the journey.”

“And they call me the Prince of Lies! Ha! Sweet Katya, you lie well for your Sire. He loathes me, I know. His disgust delights me.”

Katya was more than a little surprised by the Prince’s admission. If others really felt this way, perhaps she would survive the feast. Yet, one could never tell with the Prince, so she held her tongue.

“Come my dear, I want to introduce you to someone. She’s making a rare appearance.”

As he began leading her away from the main ballroom, Katya kept her senses at high alert. She hoped that the Prince was in fact taking her to meet a new person, but he could also be leading her to her execution. Yet, she sensed no threat coming from the Prince. But he was the master of lies and deception, so she stayed on guard.

In a darkened corner, Katya beheld a beautiful, ebony skinned woman in silk garments with wild, coarse, black hair that had been tamed in a fashion in many braids. Deep, chocolate eyes held her gaze. Katya could immediately feel immense power emanating from the woman.

“Katya, I am proud to introduce you to Kali. Kali… Katya.” The Prince of Lies then shuffled off, possibly to harass the minions.

Kali. She had heard of Kali – great power, a deity in India, and someone who understood anger and vengeance. Had someone found her out?

Knowing she was in the presence of a powerful vampiress, Katya performed a deep bow, exposing her neck as a sign of respect and submission. Instead of tasting her neck, Kali placed her right hand under Katya’s chin and lifted it, so their eyes could meet. Then Kali sliced her finger with the nail of her thumb and offered it to Katya.

Katya knew she looked surprised by the gesture, because Kali softened her features into a smile. Katya allowed Kali to place the finger inside her mouth and she licked the blood that had gathered. She was only permitted a taste, but in that taste, Katya swore she could sense the sights and sounds of India. Rich fruits, the feel of an elephant, the Ganges – and much more.

Removing her finger, Kali said, “Hello, my sister. I’ve heard much about you.” A hand dropped on Katya’s shoulder, startling her. Another voice sounded, “Our sister.”

Katya had not felt the arrival of the newcomer, as she had been so fascinated with Kali. Turning she found the owner of the hand to be Lillian. Lillian repeated, “Our sister.” Like Kali, Lillian sliced her finger with her thumb and offered Katya a taste. Katya lapped at the offered finger and tasted a dark, ancient power mixed with betrayal and sadness.

“Yes, Lilitu… our sister. A true one,” Kali stated.

Katya grew nervous; she tasted a sampling of their power and knew if they so chose, they would be able to dust her in mere seconds. What did they want with her? Even though Katya was terrified, she knew better than to let those emotions show, besides she didn’t need her Sire interrupting.

Despite Katya’s belief she had reined in any trace of fear on her face, Kali and Lillian shared a look. Lillian started, “Be at ease, we mean you no harm. We recognize you as our true sister. You’ve heard of the rumors about me?” Katya nodded. “And you’ve heard about Kali?” Katya nodded again. “Good.”

Kali interrupted, “As Lilith, my sister Lilitu would not lie submissive to her husband; she demanded equality. Her true origin and nature have been bastardized throughout the millennia, but one truth remains the same, she represents female empowerment to some.”

Katya looked at Lillian, “Is it true that you are the mother of us all? The mother of all the vampires?”

Lillian laughed. “No, sweet girl. That is but a myth. But yes, I am very old. Shhhh don’t tell.”

Katya then turned to Kali, “I believe if I heard correctly that your followers believe you emerged from the brow of a Goddess who was the slayer of demons….”

“Durga. Yes, that is the legend,” replied Kali.

“So…”

“In a way yes. My mother was a Slayer… not the very first, but nearly. Her blood runs through my veins. As the daughter of a Slayer and a Master Vampire, I also espouse the power of women.”

Still thoroughly confused as to why these great vampiresses would be addressing her, Katya stammered, “I believe I should thank you for sharing this with me, but why? Why have you both effectively cornered me… well, in this alcove?”

Kali and Lillian shared a look, then both took one of Katya’s hands. Together the women pledged, “We vow to our true sister not to interfere in her quest, only to protect. This we solemnly vow.”

Even though she was overwhelmed by their pledge, Katya managed to say, “I accept your pledge, and in turn give you my vow I will do nothing to besmirch this sisterhood. This I vow.”

Both Kali and Lillian then sliced open the palm of the hand they held and then sliced their own. Clasping their hands together, Kali spoke a few nonsensical words. Katya felt power surge through her, almost knocking her down.

“We are now truly blood sisters. Welcome little sister,” greeted Lillian.

“Welcome to the sisterhood,” chimed in Kali.

“Thank you. I’ve never had any sisters before and now to gain two….thank you.”

“Now little sister, your time is at hand. Take care. We will be with you in spirit.” Lillian then embraced her quickly before moving across the room. Kali did the same, and then she moved to an opposite wall from Lillian.

Katya composed herself before stepping back into the main ballroom. She examined how Mikeal appeared from her vantage point. His face had contorted in a grimace, as though he was upset about something. She smiled to herself. Yes, he has plenty to be upset about. Like a cat, she slowly prowled toward her prey. His eyes caught sight of her, and she detected through her link a warning laced with fear. He knew something was amiss, somebody had done something to him, and he thought she was making her way to him as a good Childe would her Sire.

Allowing Mikeal to see her break into a sadistic smile, Katya relished the increased fear being sent to her through their link. That stupid voice crept up and warned her, she was displeasing her Sire, so she mentally decapitated the source of that voice. No distractions would be permitted.

As though the room had started taking notice of some great play being orchestrated, silence began to fill the room. Katya didn’t let the breaks of conversations bother her. Her attention remained riveted solely on her Sire.

With her left hand, she released a sharp pin holding her long locks in place. With her right, she reached between her breasts and drew out a long, thin dagger. Mikeal’s eyes grew larger. Good, he recognized the knife. Thought he lost that, did he? In her right hand, Katya held the same dagger that Mikeal had used during her ‘initiation.’ He’d sliced her legs at their apex with her sex and made bloody trails from her breasts to her feet.

Mikeal seemed to be appealing to the rest of the clans with his eyes. Perhaps some of the clans believed that this was a planned bit of torture suitable for their perverse tastes, perhaps some realized what was really happening and didn’t intend on interfering, either way – no one made a move to assist the Master of the Svabolstev line.

Katya walked behind Mikeal out of his line of sight and then slowly inserted the pin into his left temple, pushing until she felt it reach the spongy material inside. Then she raked her nails deeply across the nape of his neck. She could tell he wanted to move, but he couldn’t.

She then danced around to face him and with a quick flick of her right hand, Mikeal’s left ear fell to the floor. Katya licked the knife clean making sure to moan loudly while doing so. Her eyes fell to Mikeal’s clothes. Working quickly she shredded his loose shirt and trousers.

Then Katya turned her back to Mikeal and faced the crowd. D’Hoffryn stepped forward, so did Lillian and Kali. The Prince of Lies also scampered to find a place next to Kali. Each of the ones in the middle made eye contact with the others in the room, as if daring them to oppose such an action. Many casts their eyes downward, others just stepped back. Mikeal’s lot had been decided. Katya would be allowed this.

Triumphantly she turned back to face Mikeal, who in turn begged her with his eyes.

“No mercy for you, my Sire. You showed me none on the night you killed me. No mercy for days afterwards. You didn’t want a true Childe; you wanted a dog to do your bidding. This dog didn’t hunt for you, Sire. She betrayed you everyway she could. Now, you shall feel my true power!” Katya broke the clasp on her pendant and chanted. Drawing closer to Mikeal, she placed the amber on his forehead, and as if she had placed the holy cross there; he began to burn.

Somehow he was able to release a scream of utmost agony. She kept the amber pressed against his skin while she started screwing in the pin still touching his brain. His eyes crossed, his scream fell silent.

Katya then with glee sliced open the remaining part of his trousers, which covered his manhood. “So much pain with none of the pleasure. So surprising that such an organ can ruin a life so.” With that, she grasped the penis in her left hand and made a jagged cut at its base with her right, making sure the cut wasn’t a quick slice.

Mikeal managed a whimper, like a kicked animal. It was glorious.

Dropping the penis and her knife on the table, she quickly broke a chair. Taking two of the wooden legs she plunged them into Mikeal’s feet. “That’s for keeping me a prisoner all these years.” The third leg she shoved into his neither region where his manhood used to be. “That would have been more pleasant.”

Placing the last, remaining leg on the table, Katya picked up the knife and sliced off Mikeal’s lips and removed his tongue. “No more lies from you, Mikeal.” Then she fed him his own penis. “Doesn’t taste so good; now does it? You should have cleaned it more often. Such a pig!”

With a final twist of the pin, the head now met flush against his temple. Mikeal’s body shook from the final intrusion. She sliced open his throat nearly decapitating him, allowing his blood to spill to the floor. Not once did she taste it. Her action made clear his blood was not worthy of salvaging. Then with lightening speed, she plunged the last chair leg into his heart.

Dust flew into her eyes, her hair, her mouth, and her nose. With maniacal glee, she twirled around in the scattering dust. Her revenge complete; Katya was free!

Epilogue

Thank Yous: Thank you Slaymesoftly and Slinkypsychokit for their beta/read throughs. Also thank you to Deathisyourart and Blond_bear for giving me the opportunity to finish this fic.

*****
2000, Sunnydale, California

Katya walked into an establishment called The Magic Box. Quaint, she thought as she heard the sound of a bell announcing her entrance. So much for stealth.

A gentleman approached her, “Welcome to The Magic Box, may I help you?” English, a little rough around the edges, but the posture and attitude screamed Watcher.

“No thank you, at least not at this time. I’m just browsing,” Katya replied. What on Earth had Anyanka gotten herself into? Being sure to actually look like a customer, Katya began taking stock of what the store carried. Such shops had always carried harmless trinkets to sell to the unsuspecting public. Had to be careful just what one sold. Hold on a second… why on Earth would anyone sell this? This is dangerous in the wrong hands! Shaking her head in disgust, Katya moved on. She felt the eyes of the Watcher on her back occasionally.

Finally, she heard the dulcet tones of her oldest friend carried on the air from a back room. Katya watched as her friend entered the room carrying a small box while a human male with dark hair carried two large ones.

“But Anya, you really could carry more. I mean I don’t even work here.”

“Alexander Harris, I have to save my hands for counting the money. You know what an important job that is. Right Giles?” Anyanka turned to the Watcher, who obviously had tuned them out.

“Err… yes, right, Anya,” answered the Watcher, who had now picked up a tome, which Katya recognized as the Le Grand Grimoire. Wonder why he was researching that particular book? “By the way, Anya; we have a customer. Would you see to it that she finds what she needs?”

Plopping down her tiny box, Anya beamed. “Of course, Giles.” Anya stepped around the counter and took two steps before completely stopping.

“Is something wrong Anya?” Giles noticed the sudden lack of movement by Anya.

“No… no, Giles. Just stubbed my toe.” Anya faked a grimace, as she kept bringing her shocked eyes back to Katya. “Hello, my name’s Anya. How may I service you?” A crash of boxes echoed to the store.

“ANYA! What did I tell you…?” The one Anyanka called Alexander Harris rounded the corner, frustration marring his stupid brow. Then he seemed to notice that Anya really was with a potential customer and immediately his frown turned into an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about that ma’am. Anya’s not really from here. Sometimes her English gets confused.” Xander Harris for a moment allowed himself the fantasy of having both Anya and the goddess standing before him in the same bed.

“You don’t say. Well, I think her question was just fine. Now toddle off, I don’t believe you can help me.” Katya shooed him away with her right hand.

In a lower tone, Katya smiled at her friend. “Hello, Anyanka. It’s been a while.”

“Yes, Katya, it has. What are you doing here?”

“Not pleased to see me? I thought you might like to see a friendly face. I heard of your troubles. That you’ve been reduced to a human again. I’m sorry, my dear.”

Anya gritted her teeth. “Yes, I’m no longer a vengeance demon. I am a human, trying to be a productive member of society.”

“I can see that you’ve also gained a filthy Watcher as a keeper.” Katya’s eyes narrowed on the English gentleman.

“No!” Anya said a little too loudly. “Um… no ma’am, we don’t carry that in stock, but I could place an order for you.” Quieter, she whispered, “Giles is not my keeper; he’s my employer. He owns this shop and I work for him. Yes, he is the Slayer’s Watcher and I am now a part of that group.”

“You help the Slayer?” Katya couldn’t help the surprise coming from her voice. “Do they know what you once were?”

“Yes, they were the ones responsible for my losing my pendant, Katya. No, don’t kill them. Since I’ve been made human again, they have not tried to kill me for what I was in the past. This Slayer is different.”

“So I’ve heard. Still, why were you sounding so different in front of that boy? You do not talk like that.”

“I’m still getting used to all the human lingo. They believe I am obsessed with money and orgasms, which don’t get me wrong are two of my favorite things, but it helps keep me below their radar.” Anya explained.

“I see.” Picking up an orb, Katya displayed it to Anya. “You allow this to be sold here, knowing what it is?”

Anya had the decency to look slightly ashamed. “Most people used them as a paperweight. Even Giles did at one time.”

“Watchers!” sighed Katya.

Giggling, “Yeah, Watchers… can’t live with them, can’t fill the Thames with them either.”

“Listen Anya, I came to visit you to make sure you are happy. I still have some influence over D’Hoffryn. If you would like, I could put in a word for you. Help you regain your status.”

Katya watched as Anyanka absorbed the thought. She was certain that her friend would immediately jump at the chance to become a vengeance demon again. Katya had already started the groundwork with D’Hoffryn to persuade him to change his mind.

Surprising Anyanka turned down her offer. “Perhaps in the future, before I get all wrinkly. But for now, Katya, yes, I’m happy. I have Xander, and he makes me happy. I have my job and some friends. But don’t you think that you can’t visit me – just no to the biting or the draining of my life’s blood. Okay?”

Pulling her friend into a hug, Katya responded, “Okay. For now. But I’m keeping my ear to the ground, and if anyone bothers you in any way, they’ll have to answer to me.”

“Oh, Katya, how I’ve missed you! So, tell me how’s Europe?”

“Well, I’ve met this younger vampire. Only three hundred years old, but what stamina!”

“Giles!”

“Yes, Anya?”

“I’m taking a long break!”

And out the door walked two long time friends into a warm Sunnydale evening.

The End

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