Banner by Vampkiss
Banner by Vampkiss
October 1778
“He’s going to cheat.”
“No, he’s not.”
“Yes, he is. He can’t help it. Doesn’t matter if there’s a room full of people, he’ll be able to smell me right off.”
Renee gifted her friend with a conspiratorial look.
“No… he won’t.” She shook the small vial between her thumb and forefinger. “We’ll just dab a little of this on you…”
The vampiress pulled out the stopper and made to apply the concoction on strategic parts of the Slayer’s body. Her wrist, however, was captured in an iron-like grasp before she could.
“What is that?” Buffy asked, eyeing the small, colored glass container suspiciously.
“Distraction.”
“Distraction? What—”
The Slayer’s eyes narrowed, and she brought Renee’s hand closer so that she could smell the stopped. “Eww… it smells like…”
Seeing Renee’s Cheshire grin…
“Are you trying to get me killed? Whose? No… no wait! Don’t tell me!” She stepped back, shaking her head.
“What? It’ll work. Trust me.”
“Trust you! Renee… that’s…. that’s… oh my god, I can’t believe…”
“Don’t be such a prude.”
“A prude!” Buffy shrieked.
“It’s not like you’ll really be able to smell it anyway. But, it should throw Spike off your scent for a bit.”
“That wasn’t funny,” the Slayer commented, referring to the vampiress’ pun.
“Look, you wanted a way for Spike not to recognize you, right?” Renee held up the bottle. “This is it.”
“This is so going to bite me in the ass… I can feel it,” Buffy grumbled, but she stood docilely while Renee trailed the stopper over random places on her exposed flesh. “You better tell whoever ‘contributed’ to this little perfume that they should hide. Because, once Spike is done with me, he’s going to be coming after them.”
“I don’t know why you’re worried. He’ll have himself a good laugh when all’s said and done.”
“Yeah, right. Laugh, my ass. More like a good torture session. And, don’t think I’m going to be the only one that suffers, Missy!” Buffy wagged her finger at her friend. “I go down, you’re coming with me. Hell, I may even shove you in front of me…plead the fifth, or something.”
“Look, Buffy, it’s the only way us vamps can have any fun at these things. It’s supposed to be a surprise, right? That’s why it’s a masked ball. All the vamps do it.”
“All the vamps but Spike, you mean. Did anyone bother to tell him before he disappeared for the afternoon?”
“Uh… I’m not sure. But, I’m sure one of the guys will let him know.”
“If they see him before he finds me, you mean.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Renee hesitated.
“It’s a bit late now! I’ve got—” Buffy sighed. “It’s not like I can just wash it off now, can I?”
Renee made to reassure her friend but Buffy cut her off.
“Don’t worry about it… what’s done is done. Come on… help me with my dress.”
Buffy walked over to the bed where her maid had laid out her ball gown for tonight’s event. The deep emerald confection had been created without Spike’s knowledge; the accompanying mask, as well.
“I’m sure he’ll be told.”
The Slayer nodded, saying nothing.
“You look ravishing,” Renee told her once Buffy was dressed. The red wig completed the Slayer’s transformation, setting off the deep green of her gown. “Spike is sure to be the envy of every man out there. Here… let’s get your mask on.”
“It’s too bad you can’t see yourself. You look stunning, Renee.”
Buffy’s gaze roved over the vampiress’ frame, taking note of the ice-colored ball gown. Her dark locks had been hidden by a wig of the same hue; only her mask bore any color. Topaz, to match her eyes.
“Thanks, love. Now, come on, before we miss the party.”
The Slayer allowed herself to be led from her room and down the stairs. Humans and vampires shared company in the French nobleman’s home, the former oblivious to the fact. Buffy watch the proceedings with a keen eye, taking note of the relaxed atmosphere, so intent on the goings on, she was unaware that Renee had disappeared from her side and got lost in the crush.
Alcohol was free-flowing on the estate, and she passed several men and women who were obviously drunk.
Amazing what a little anonymity could do.
“Someone’s been a naughty girl,” a voice spoke at her back, and Buffy stiffened. She whirled around, pinning the dark-haired vampire with an evil glare.
“Did you just sniff me?” she hissed, careful not to let anyone overhear her.
The goof just nodded, teeth gleaming beneath his mask.
“Marcus! Eww… stop it!”
“But… Elizabeth,” he drawled. “You smell so good.”
“Stop!” she commanded. “Oomph! You drunk, overgrown Neanderthal. I’m telling Angelina. Get off me.”
Marcus pulled back, smirking, and settled his arm around the Slayer.
“Drunk? Please, Buff… give me some credit.”
She looked up at him out of the corner of her eye.
“Just playin’ a part, sweets.” He gestured to the room at large, where a good majority of the women were being accosted by strange men – and enjoying the attention. “Better me than one of these buffoons. William would tear their throats out.”
“Uh huh.” She sounded anything but convinced. “If I didn’t know for a fact that Angelina would kick your ass…”
Marcus smirked.
“Oops… time for me to be off… I don’t wanna be around when William comes to claim his girl, if you know what I mean.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
Buffy’s eyes searched the crowd, looking for any sign of the blond vampire in question, but came up empty. When she turned back to the vampire beside her, he was gone – but she heard his departing chuckle and vowed to get even with him.
Sighing heavily, she stepped into the crowd and was groped no less than five times in as many steps. Buffy could only shake her head.
“Would you like to dance, Lady Emerald?”
The Slayer swiveled around.
“Clayton! Oh thank god! Yes… get me away from these people. I swear, I’m not going to be able to take much more of this without reacting… violently.”
Clayton chuckled.
“You think it’s funny. I don’t see anyone grabbing your ass,” she grumbled. “I thought these people were the upper crust of society.”
“It’s a masquerade ball, Buffy. What did you expect?” the vampire asked, sweeping her onto the dance floor to the first strains of the waltz.
“Not this… that’s for sure. I’m probably going to have to dance all night to save myself from being groped, aren’t I?”
“Either that, or find William… if he doesn’t find you first.”
“Speaking of… did anyone tell him… about the… you know?”
“I haven’t seen him tonight,” Clayton evaded.
Buffy narrowed her eyes, but the look was lost with the mask she wore.
“You guys are up to something, I can feel it.”
“Me? What did I do?”
“Something… you, Renee, Marcus… you’re all too damn smug for your own good.”
Buffy stopped in the middle of the dance floor, barely managing to avoid being run down by another couple. She jabbed him in the chest with her finger. “If I go down, you all go down, dammit!”
“Buffy, wait…”
But, the Slayer was gone, leaving him standing alone on the dance floor. He nodded his head, and Adam took over the watch.
~*~
“I know what you’re doing,” Buffy told Adam as soon as she sensed his approach. “You’re not the only one that can discern a pattern, I’ll have you know.”
“Pardon?”
“Don’t you pardon me! You…you…”
“Vampire?”
“Yeah… that.” Buffy stuck her tongue out at him and Adam laughed. “Hey, I’m insulting you, you’re not supposed to laugh.”
Adam sobered quickly causing the Slayer to lose her smile.
“He needs this, Buffy,” he told her quietly. “You do too.”
“So, you just set me up? Have me reek of you all? Then just offer me up like some sort of sacrificial lamb?”
“Are you scared?”
“Of him hurting me? No. But…”
“Would you rather he get it from one of us?”
“No!” She shook her head frantically. “No.”
“Then why?”
“Adam…” she blushed, unwilling to tell the vampire her reason.
“It’s alright, Adam. Come on, Buffy.” Marcus led her away from the other vamp and out on to the veranda.
“Marcus—” she began once they stopped.
“I told the others we should have just told you.”
“Others? You mean…”
“We all know, sweets. You gave him a taste, and now…”
“But that was…” Her voice trailed off, unable to put into words that day in Spike’s study.
“Bloody, and violent… and perfect,” Marcus finished for her.
“Perfect,” Buffy echoed softly.
“Then why haven’t you let him—”
“Because I enjoyed it…” she whispered. “Too much.”
“And that’s a problem?”
“Yes!” she hissed.
“Why?”
Buffy said nothing for the longest time. Just stood there while she appeared to wage an internal battle with her conscience.
“Why, Buffy?” Marcus asked again.
“Because I’m human, Marcus. I… I shouldn’t want that… enjoy…” She gestured vaguely.
Marcus hugged Buffy close. “Oh, sweets. Sometimes I forget what an innocent you are.” He pulled away and grabbed her hand. “Follow me.”
Then he was running up a set of stairs along the outside of the mansion that were hidden by foliage, dragging the Slayer behind him.
“What do you see?” he whispered in her ear.
Buffy gasped. “But they’re…”
“Human… yes.”
“And they…?” Her gaze was locked on the scene before her.
“Enjoy what they’re doing? Look at their faces, sweets.”