Chapter Eight

A/N: Since it's been so long since I've had a chance to update this fic, a quick note. I'm not sure how it happened, but somehow the muse invited a few friends to join the party. Imagine my surprise when I caught him, red-handed, entertaining a couple of refugees from Wolf Lake. Thank you, once more to the lovely Niamh for the beta. This chapter is dedicated to the wonderful BloodyTearsofLife. Happy Birthday, Sweets!



Buffy's day seemed to drag on endlessly as one petulant student after another were either dragged before her desk or, in the case of one over-confident varsity football player, used the excuse of visiting the student counselor to hit on the petite blonde. On several occasions, she'd found her mind wandering to her mate.

Thoughts of Spike and the task which had taken him away from home just before sunrise naturally led to memories of the previous night and their trip to the Bronze. Surprisingly, it had been Buffy's own suggestion to take her charges to the popular nightspot. Her idea had quickly turned into a group event as everyone realized just how long it had been since any of them had simply let their proverbial hair down and relaxed with an evening of drinks, conversation and dancing.

********

The previous night-

Even as she lined her charges up at the balcony railing, Buffy felt a wash of nostalgia rush through her and she was transported back in time to her very first visit to the Bronze. Only, this time, it was she standing in as Watcher as she lectured the younger girls to hone their senses and pinpoint the location of any vampires present in the crowd of clubgoers on the floor below. She knew, as did the vampire at her side, that Spike was the only member of the undead present. Still, it was good practice for the girls, and their intent focus on their surroundings proved that the lesson had not been a waste. In reward, Buffy invited them to remain cautious as she released them to enjoy the various entertainments the dance club had to offer.

For her part, Buffy found herself in a quiet booth tucked into an equally quiet corner of the balcony with her mate. They had not been alone for long when they were interrupted by a demon that resembled a large white rabbit dressed in a three-piece suit and black fedora. It was not the first time either Slayer or vampire had occasion to run into Whitey, as the escapee from a Lewis Carroll novel was in the employ of a well-known demon bookie.

Without preamble, Whitey tucked himself into the empty space across from the blond couple and removed his hat, smoothing back his long, pointy ears and straightening the lapels of his tailored business suit. "Ms. Summers, Mr. Spike," he greeted in a smooth, cultured voice. "Forgive me for interrupting your evening, but I've been asked to deliver a message from my employer."

Spike snorted at the mention of Whitey's boss. There wasn't a demon alive or undead that hadn't, at some point, had occasion to run into Sharkey. The demon bookie was a six-foot creature resembling a great white shark with legs and mouthful of needle-sharp teeth Spike had once longed to wear on a necklace around his neck. The demon was as vicious and relentless as the ocean predator he was named for, while retaining the personality of every bookie ever portrayed in the movies.

Presently, Whitey hauled a large black leather briefcase onto the table before him and used a small brass key to unlock it. Turning the case to face the Slayer and her mate, Whitey lifted the lid. "Something is coming," he told them in a slightly nervous tone. "Every demon for six dimensions can feel it. Time to choose sides."

Buffy stared, transfixed by the contents of the case and hoped she wasn't drooling. It took a monumental effort, but she at last forced herself to meet Whitey's gaze. "Is this a bribe?" If the Slayer's voice was a bit breathy, no one gave any indication they noticed.

"A gift. You don't just save humans, Ms. Summers. Unlike a great many of the Slayers before you, you understand not all demons are bad or all humans are good. The envelope on top is all the legal paperwork to name you as owner of a building downtown. Inside the building you will find state-of-the-art fitness equipment along with a training room and its accompanying weaponry designed specifically for your unique needs."

Noticing the stunned look on his mate's face, Spike asked the demon where he would go, should they need to contact him for anything. For the first time ever, Whitey dropped his facade of refinement and let out a sigh. "As far from here as my cottontail can get. The others have already gone. This was my last stop." With a nod, the demon stood and laid his hat on the floor. With a twitch of his whiskers and a mischievous grin, he dove into the hat and was gone with a tiny flash of light.

*****

The bell signaling school had ended for the day brought Buffy from her thoughts and a sigh of resignation passed her lips. She had been procrastinating and she knew it. It was time to make the phone call she had been avoiding all day.

As though her sister had sensed Buffy's apprehension over her task, Dawn appeared at the entrance to her cubicle. The teen's dazzling sapphire eyes filled with empathy. A small smile of encouragement curled the younger girl's bow-shaped lips.

Suddenly, Buffy pushed back from her desk and stood to look out her window, watching eager students scurrying down the hallway towards whatever passed for freedom in their lives. She shook her head, "I can't do this, Dawnie."

"Well not here, cuz..." Dawn gestured helplessly, but Buffy got her meaning nonetheless. There wasn't only human eavesdroppers to worry over. Under their feet, beneath the school itself, lay the Seal of Danzalthar. It was the place where The First Evil had taken Spike, sliced him open and drained his blood to bring forth the Turok-han. This was enemy territory. Of course she couldn't make such an important phone call from here.

Renewed determination steeled her nerves and Buffy quickly gathered her things. "Let's get outta here, 'k?"

Dawn shook her head emphatically. She hadn't mentioned it to Buffy, or anyone for that matter, but deep down something within her responded to the darkness permeating every square inch of this place. Some residual element of her now dormant Keyness, she supposed.

Buffy wrapped her sister up in a one-armed hug, taking a brief second to breathe in Dawn's clean, fresh scent. This moment and the not-yet-a-woman tucked against her side was Buffy's legacy to the world. She was the reason Buffy would not accept defeat, why she would not give in to the evil threatening to destroy the world. Dawn would grow into a beautiful, powerful woman with the world at her feet if Buffy had anything to say about it. Even if it killed her again, Buffy was adamant that Dawn would lead a long, happy life filled with love and die an old woman surrounded by fat grandchildren.

********

She could still hear his voice as though he were standing in front of her; still hear the urgency of his demand that she gather whatever she could fit into the small duffel. The Clan would come for her. Tyler would come for her, now that she had tapped into her powers.

All Sophia had ever wanted was to be like the others. To make the ones on the hill accept her for who, and what, she was. Clan, like them. Her mother had been Clan. At least until she had mated to the outcast, the one of impure blood, and given birth to Sophia.

Until six months ago, Matthew Donner had believed his pride and joy had escaped the legacy that was all but guaranteed by the blood flowing through her veins. While her peers discovered the other side of their dual nature, Sophia had been relegated to the status of outcast like her father. The others took great delight in taunting her with cruelty and viciousness, treating her as though she were less than them. Sophia took it, too. She held her head high, her back straight and refused to be cowed by their seeming power over her.

Then things began to change for her. It happened so gradually she hadn’t noticed it at first. Little by little, her senses seemed to awaken. At night, she dreamed of the forest and a freedom so exhilarating it left her panting for air and covered in a light sheen of perspiration when she awoke in the morning.

More than the dreams, there was Luke. Son of Willard and Vivian Cates; heir to the Cates dynasty and in line to one day assume his father’s role as Clan leader. Something within him called to Sophia on such a primitive level, leaving her unable to explain and helpless to resist.

Over the next several months, they spent more and more time together, with Luke instructing her on what it meant to be Clan. Though it frustrated her no end over how slowly the change was occurring for her, Sophia proved herself an apt pupil as she absorbed every little fact she learned.

It wasn’t until the night of the party that Sophia finally tapped into her powers. Luke had decided to make her jealous. She had found him in plain sight, fucking a hill-girl, just feet from the main group of partygoers.

In that moment, the other side of her nature awakened in a rush of rage and jealousy. Blinded by the new sensations, terrified of what it meant, Sophia had run. All she had wanted was to be part of the Clan. God, if she had only known what it truly meant.

She had known, even as her bare feet slapped against the rough, pitted asphalt of the highway, even as she relentlessly drove herself on towards the home she shared with her father, he would follow. Just like she knew he held the distinct advantage over her. While her heart raced and her legs pumped furiously in her dash to safety, she was restricted to the highway. Not Luke, however. He could and did take to the forest, dropping to all fours and shifting natures as easily as flipping a switch.

Sophia had nearly reached her destination when he’d burst through the trees, human once more and unconcerned either with or by his nudity as he tackled her to the ground. She had yelped as she landed and found herself pinned beneath a very naked and very aroused alpha male. Fear and the stirrings of desire warred within her as his gold eyes burned into her from scant inches away. His face lowered then, a warm pink tongue sliding out of his mouth to lap at the hollow at the base of her throat. Terror won out as he ground himself against the apex of her thighs. She didn’t want this. Didn’t want animalistic rutting outside her back door by someone covered in the scent of whatever random bitch he’d just fucked in front of thirty other people.

It was the memory of his earlier activities and the prospect of being dominated that had tears leaking from her eyes, babbled, incoherent pleas spilled from her lips. Luke stilled over her, his head cocked to the side, gold eyes intent as his face lowered once more. Even as he buried his nose aginst the skin behind her ear, puffts of warm breath coupled with a soft whine that sent shivers skittering over her body. Without warning, he gave her skin a light, stinging nip and backed off in a blur of motion to fast for her to follow with her eyes.

Luke seemed to vanish into thin air, leaving Sophia lying alone on the grass, staring at the sky and attempting to understand what had happened to her; was, in truth, only beginning to happen to her.

*****

Sophia blinked several times in an effort to clear the sleep from her eyes. In a flash the painful memories rushed back in and grief once more threatened to tear her apart from the soul out. No sooner had the first tears begun to fall than Luke had awakened and curled her into his embrace. He made some sort of keening whine in the back of his throat, a sound that should have been odd coming from a human though she knew it was meant to comfort her, and she felt a lessening of the pain.

Neither of them spoke; there was no need to when everything had been said over and over again. Instead, Luke held her and let her cry out her tears in the warmth in his arms while all around them the sounds of the night creatures in the forest went about their nocturnal lives.

It was almost over, their trip. They had nearly made it to Sunnydale and to the one person Matthew Donner entrusted with the life of his only child. Armed with a hastily written letter, as much money as she could shove into her bag, along with a few changes of clothes and toiletries, Sophia and Luke had fled Wolf Lake. The last words she would ever hear her father speak ringing in her ears as he had ordered Luke to protect his little girl.

Their trip was almost at an end. Sunnydale was near. Sophia’s godfather was near. All she had to do was get to him and he would make things better.

With a sigh, Sophia snuggled in closer against Luke’s chest. The crying jag had worn her out and she once more drifted into a fitful sleep.

*******
TBC

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