Epilogue
~*~*~*~*~
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is
sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the
floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted- nevermore!
Edgar Allen Poe
~*~*~*~*~
Ethan stepped over the threshold and into the main
headquarters of the Watchers’ Council; slung over his shoulder was the limp
form of the current Slayer. He was
dog-tired but was wise enough not to voice the thought aloud.
That’d just get him a one-way ticket to hell.
Not that he had any doubt that Satan was even now warming a spot for him,
but he still had time left yet before he had to pay that particular
piper.
A very long time, if he had anything to say about it.
No, best keep his mouth zipped and serve his master without
protest. Eyghon was unpredictable
at best and winding up on his bad side could result in harsh punishments – no
matter how loyal the follower.
He resettled the Slayer on his shoulder, his weary body
nearly buckling from the recent blood loss and jet lag.
Ripper had laughed when he slashed his belly, upending his body so that
the blood could dribble over the ingredients of the spell he was casting.
He’d known better than to whimper a protest even though it had hurt
like a bastard, yet part of him had thrilled at Eyghon’s power.
Afterwards, he’d been unceremoniously dumped on the floor
to lick his wounds while Ripper had completed the necessary incantations – it
hadn’t been something he’d been privy to.
The complex text recited by the demon in an unintelligible language had
sailed right over his head. When
his master had wound down, he’d spared him a glance, muttering under his
breath and sealing the wound he’d caused.
Not that it had eased the pain, but at least he wasn’t going to bleed
out, his flesh seemingly knitting together of its own accord until just an angry
red welt had remained.
He’d soon found out why he’d been spared when Ripper
had barked orders for him to board a flight to Boston, everything was already
arranged for him. Apparently he was
to steal the new Slayer away from her watcher.
When he disrespectfully demanded how in the bloody hell he was supposed
to accomplish that, the demon had smirked, sending chills down the warlock’s
spine, and tossed a vial of green fluid his way.
“Use that…oh, and Ethan?”
“Yes, master?”
“Mind you don’t miss.”
Don’t miss? Don’t
miss, he says. He’d damn near
shit his pants when the near-homicidal slayer had confronted him.
Only the threat of Eyghon’s rage had managed to steady his hand and
enabled him to get the dart of power-stealing serum into her nubile flesh.
She’d crumpled before him instantly, and Ethan had easily scooped her
up and lugged her back to the airport.
Employing a bit of his own dark magicks, he’d gotten them
reseated on the return transatlantic flight, mere hours after his arrival
stateside.
Now, as he carefully made his way down the hall, stepping
over dead bodies that littered the floor, their necks torn out and their mouths
caked with blood, he thanked whatever evil power there was that he had his
master’s protection. From the
number of corpses on show there must have been an army of vampires storming
through the Watchers’ stronghold, eating anything that happened across their
paths.
Ripper had told him to bring the Slayer to the Head of
Council’s office, and Ethan followed the subconscious signs that told him he
was headed in the right direction: the utilitarian decoration of the building
giving way to a more opulent décor.
A door swung open at the end of the hall, and he gulped
hard as he forced down his fear and kept moving.
Suddenly a figure materialized, and Ethan’s body didn’t know whether
to harden in desire or cower in terror.
He’d seen her not so long ago, the former Slayer, when
he’d had his Halloween fun. Her
ripe young body had tempted him even then; the fact that he was old enough to be
her father just sweetened the pot. If
Ripper hadn’t figured out it was he who was responsible for the spell, he’d
have swooped in and captured her, and bent her to his evil ways.
There was no way to stop his body from hardening at the thought, and he
paused as she seemed to sense what he was thinking, pinning him with a pitying
smirk.
It was unnerving how she seemed to know exactly what he was
thinking; how she watched him like she was the hunter and he the prey.
He sailed in through the open door; stopping short at the
sight of Travers slumped on the gleaming parquet, either side of his neck marred
with recent signs of vampiric feeding. Then
he noticed the gore-stained lips as well and couldn’t hide the evil grin that
transformed his features.
“Ripper, that’s bloody brilliant! Never would’ve thought to take out the old bugger that
way,” he told his fellow Englishman.
“Yeah, well, you always did think more about the chaos
you could create, rather than the perfect execution of a diabolical plan.
Chaos is all well and good in its place, but it’s the end results that
do it for me. Something you could
never quite grasp, unlike myself. Why
do you think Eyghon chose to make me his vessel of evil?
I may have a use for Travers, though he’ll probably make a pathetic
fledgling. Now, watch and learn.”
Ethan didn’t take umbrage to the remark.
He was a lot smarter than he looked.
“What do you want me to do with this one?” he asked
indicated the unconscious Slayer, still slung over his shoulder.
He didn’t want to be in possession of the girl should she wake up and
decide to knock him about a bit in retaliation.
Ripper was saved from answering when Buffy walked up behind
the warlock and took the girl from him. He
noticed how tender the vampiress was with the Slayer and filed the information
away for later use. Weakness was
something to be exploited, and discovering a soft spot in the former Slayer
might help keep the pair of vampires in line.
Oh, he had no illusions that theirs was a partnership meant
to last. Actually, he was surprised
that the blond pair were still in London. They’d
had their fun, Spike indulging his childe’s whims by allowing her free rein
inside the Council’s headquarters. But
vampires were a roving lot by nature – something that pleased the demon
mightily. He’d not wanted to
engage in a battle for dominance with the pair. Far better for them to get their jollies taking out a few of
the Council members then be off on their merry way.
Infinitely better in fact.
There was room for only one place setting at the head of
the table. And he intended to be
the one to fill it.
~*~
Buffy set the Slayer down carefully on the couch that Spike
was sprawled upon.
“She’s prettier in person, don’t you think?” she
remarked to her sire.
“Right knockout, she is, luv,” Spike agreed, already
imagining breaking the girl in right. His
childe’s growl cut that thought short and he smirked at his girl before
snagging her hand and tugging her onto his lap.
“Not fit to lick your boots, though.”
Buffy melted at his words.
His nuzzling of her neck also went a long way towards soothing her
jealousy. “Mmmm…Spike…
more…”
He complied, his face shifting automatically so that he
could sink his fangs in his girl’s neck.
Her succulent blood flooded his mouth, and he couldn’t prevent the
growl of satisfaction that rumbled forth. He
was still amazed by the Slayer’s responsiveness to him, how she arched closer
making his bite border on pain.
“Oh for god’s sake, give it a rest!
Bloody hell! Can you two keep your hands off each other for a moment while
we focus on the task at hand?”
Spike growled, annoyed at being interrupted.
But nonetheless he retracted his canines and licked the fresh marks
closed.
“It’s your bloody show, mate. We’ve done our bit. Just
hanging around to catch the fireworks before we mosey off to pastures new.”
“So you’re not planning to stay in merrie olde England, then?”
“Pfft, hardly… Me and my girl…got places to see,
people to kill. We’ll leave you
and the witch to your empire-building here.”
Ripper relaxed back in his chair, a satisfied smirk on his
face. “Well, Spike, you know
you’re more than welcome to visit anytime,” he told the vampire, magnanimous
in his offer now that he had confirmation of the vampires’ intentions.
“Yeah, I just bet I am,” Spike smirked.
“Never judge a book by its cover, Watcher, I’m not thick.
I’ve sussed the way the wind blows with you and the setup here and
I’m not interested in hanging round till we end up coming to blows over
who’s gonna run this show.”
“In that case, let me make my offer more sincere.
You get back this way, don’t be a stranger…”
“Yeah, yeah…I’ll be sure to look you up.
Now, let’s get to the main event, me and the missus, and the Slayer
here have gotta be on our way.”
Ripper opened his mouth to object to the pair making off
with the dark-haired girl.
“No need to get your knickers in a twist, Ripper.
We’re not gonna turn her…least not for a bit anyway.
Be kinda nice for you not having a Slayer poking her nose where it has no
business…right?”
Ripper’s eyes gleamed red in appreciation of the
vampire’s thinking. “Maybe I
ought to keep you around, Spike. You
really aren’t as dumb as you look in your retro-80’s getup.”
He sighed dramatically. “Alas,
I know it’s not meant to be. But,
I’ll persevere as always.”
“I hope you’re taking the piss there, Rupert.
I haven’t forgotten some of the kit you used to sport.
Tweed or tweed wasn’t it?”
Buffy giggled at her sire’s words and grinned
unrepentantly at the look of revulsion that temporarily transformed the features
of the man who had been her watcher, in a former life; the one she’d left
behind without so much as a second thought.
She had to admit, her existence – and that of her friends – was so
much better for the transformation they’d gone through.
Speaking of friends…
She really wished she could see Xander again.
She’d grown close to the male vampire in the brief time they had been
together…back when Spike had been his pseudo-sire in the face of Angel’s
desertion of his childe. Gone had
been the awkwardness and doormat mentality that had plagued her friend’s
existence when they’d been human. It
was as if his demon had freed the inner Xander, had shown the potential of the
man just lurking beneath the surface, waiting for someone to recognize his
potential.
Spike had seen to that, nurturing the boy before Angelus
had swanned back in and disrupted their little family, stealing the fledge away.
But Buffy understood.
There was no way she would have left Spike’s side willingly.
She just hoped that Angelus would take care of her friend and not harm
the boy in revenge for what Spike had done to him.
Movement from the opposite end of the couch drew Buffy from
thoughts of Xander. She licked her
lips as the Slayer stretched her arms over her head as she came to, the movement
exposing the smooth expanse of her taut stomach.
~*~
Faith groaned as she struggled to break free from the
chains of unconsciousness. Eyes
still closed, she stretched to work the kinks out of her stiff limbs.
At the same time, she roused her senses to see if anything dangerous
tweaked her internal radar. It was something that had freaked the shit out of her the
first time she noticed it, that sense of imminent danger that signaled a bad guy
in her vicinity.
When her slayer senses lay dormant, she opened her eyes and
gasped aloud at the small group staring pointedly in her direction.
She would have scrambled to her feet and away to a safe corner, but
something kept her from moving. It
was like her limbs were bound by an impenetrable force.
“Ah…good. She’s
awake. I was beginning to think
you’d overdone the serum, Ethan.”
Faith swiveled her head in the direction of that sinister
voice, unsurprised when her gaze collided with beady red eyes staring down at
her. The tone had been menacing,
pure demon, though she held out hope that he seemed pissed on her behalf, rather
than at her. It meant she might
live to see tomorrow.
As if reading her thoughts, the man smiled, the red glow
fading from his eyes allowing the normal hazel to shine through.
“No, Faith. We’re
not gonna hurt you. Are we,
Spike?”
“Not unless she asks me nicely,” the vampire snarked,
curling his tongue and leering at her.
Faith’s gaze was drawn by that seductive drawl, and she
couldn’t help the twitter that signaled her awareness of him…even with the
girl sitting so comfortably in his lap – make that draped possessively.
She managed to finally find her voice, turning back to the
man that had spoken to her. “Well,
if you’re not here to kill me, maybe you’ll tell me what the fuck I’m
doing here? And exactly where here
is would be nice too.”
“You didn’t say the magic word.”
“Yeah, well, I’m fresh out of magic words.
Besides, my gig is Slayer, not witch.
You want magic, go look one up.”
“Oh ho, Ripper. That’s
telling you!”
“You’re next, blondie, so don’t push me.”
“Watch your mouth, little girl,” Spike growled,
unimpressed by her show of bravado. “Nothing
says I can’t change my mind about offing you.”
He flashed a bit of fang for her benefit, smiling when she stiffened in
awareness.
“But how—”
“Benefits of the drug Ethan pumped you with,” Ripper
answered. “It causes your Slayer
capabilities to lie dormant. It’s
why you didn’t recognize that these two are vampires. It’s also why your body can’t obey its fight or flight
instinct.”
“What? What
is it?” she managed to gasp out around her fear.
“The serum? Oh,
just a little something the Watchers’ Council keeps around in case a slayer
makes it to eighteen. It’s their
insurance - lets them kill them off under the guise of a test. That way they have a younger, more malleable Slayer.”
“Ain’t that some shit,” Faith griped.
“Hmmm…quite,” Ripper commented. “But it’s been the easiest way for me to gain your
cooperation. And, I trust I’ve
got that?” He quirked a brow in
the girl’s direction.
“It’s not like I can actually argue the point right
now, can I?”
Ripper’s grin said it all.
“No, I suppose not.
But, as to why you’re here. Well,
I was hoping we could come to a mutual understanding.
You see, the man lying at the foot of my desk used to be Head Watcher
here at the Council - you’re in London, by the way.
Anyway, he was all set to employ the methods we used to get you here,
only you would have met with more dire results.
So, in a way we saved your neck. And,
a beautiful one at that, I might add.”
“Erm… thanks,” Faith responded warily.
“Uh…what kind of a mutual understanding would that be?”
“The thing is this, Faith.
We know all about you. The shitty little life you had before you were
called, the darkness inside that crawls around just below the surface.
We like it.”
“Yeah? Well,
you’d be the only one.”
“So, we’ll let you live…just so long as you don’t
interfere with my plans.”
“Got no problems with that, Pops. Wasn’t like I actually signed up for this, ya know?
But why not just kill me? From
what I understand, it’s a short gig for slayers anyway.”
“Because if you’re alive, another one won’t get
called,” Spike answered. “And
that suits me just fine…not that I‘m one to shy from you lot.
Just saves me the aggravation. So,
you leave us alone, we leave you alone.”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever.
Only…how will vamps know I’m not gunnin’ for them?”
Spike grinned at the girl.
For all her bad girl ways, she was still rather innocent.
“Simple, pet. You
get to play with us.”
Faith eyes the others in the room thoughtfully.
The two on the couch, yeah, she’d do them both in a heartbeat.
Same for the redhead standing so calmly next to the man seated at the
desk; she’d yet to say anything, but Faith knew power when she saw it. That girl had it in spades.
The man, Ripper – as the vampire called him – also held a certain
appeal. Must be the authority
figure vibe he was projecting. The
lackey, though? She struggled to
hide a shudder that thought invoked.
“Yeah? Okay,
I’m in.”
~*~*~*~*~
The knock on the open office door took the group by
surprise, neither the vampires nor the demon sensing the man’s presence until
they saw him standing there.
“Hello. Sorry
if I’m interrupting something important,” the man greeted them.
“You will be, mate,” Spike grumbled under his breath as
he set Buffy aside and leapt to his feet.
“Hold on, Spike,” Ripper called out, causing the
vampire to glance incredulously at the other.
“Hey! Thanks
for that. I wouldn’t want to get
blood on the Armani.”
Spike arched a brow at that. Man had balls, he’d give him that. Still didn’t mean he wasn’t going to eat him.
It just delayed it for a bit.
“Name’s Lindsey. Lindsey
MacDonald. I’m work in
Acquisitions at Wolfram and Hart. Anyway,
the senior partners…they like what you’re doing, and flew me over here to
see if you had representation.”
“Representation? Are
you bloody kiddin’ me?” Spike stared at the lawyer as if he’d lost his
mind.
“No, actually, I’m not.
All the serious demons are our clients.”
“Serious demons?”
“Archduke Sebassis.
The Fell Brethren. Izzerial the Devil. Ring any bells?
Surely Eyghon knows the names of his, dare I say it, brethren?”
“You know that I do,” said Ripper, “So why even
mention their names?”
“To prove a point.”
“And that would be…”
“That not all demons rely on themselves to see their
dirty work isn’t corrupted by the do-gooders of the world. That your minions or lackeys aren’t forced to endure
unthinkable isolation in the world’s prison systems because your egotism was
too great to seek representation. Besides,
anyone can force their will on the weak-minded. It’s a good demon that can do it and make them believe it
was their own idea in the first place - that sets you apart from the
rest.”
“So, it’s not so much that you want to represent me,
it’s that you want to know my intentions,” Ripper concluded.
“Wolfram and Hart won’t interfere in your business.
Ours is merely a… consultative firm…not to mention that we
have the best litigators in the world.”
“Right, that explains why people are locked up every day.
Can I eat him now?” Spike complained to Ripper.
“No…he may…let’s not be too hasty,” he told the
petulant vampire.
“Fine. Spoil
my fun.” Spike resumed his
position on the couch while Ripper finished with the lawyer.
“I’m assuming you have a card?” Ripper asked.
“Right here.” Lindsey
fished one out of his card case and gasped as it was ripped from his fingers to
float through the air towards the demon seated behind the desk.
His eyes widened as he caught sight of the female standing at his side,
her eyes black cesspools as she manipulated the tiny scrap of paper with
apparent ease.
“Neat trick,” he commented, recovering.
“Anyway…I’m staying at the Lanesborough.
The front desk has my room information.”
The lawyer left without further prompting, leaving behind a
momentarily quiet group.
“Well, that’s new,” Faith commented to no one in
particular. “Didn’t think evil
was that upfront. No wonder lawyers
have such bad reps; they really are the devils’ advocates.”
“Hmmm… This may change things a bit.
But, an alliance with Wolfram and Hart could prove advantageous.
More so than this offal here that’s yet to rise… though that can soon
be remedied. Any objections?”
“Nah…didn’t much like to admit that I turned the
wanker. Offing him…I’ve no
problem with that.”
“Willow…”
“Wait!” Faith
struggled to sit up on the couch, the serum slow to drain from her body.
“Shouldn’t I be the one to do it?
I am the Slayer, after all. Beside,
it’s only fair since he was gonna have me killed, doncha think?”
“Be my guest,” Ripper invited. “Willow, give the stake to the Slayer.”
With a flick of her wrist, the piece of wood sailed through
the air and into the girl’s outstretched hand.
Faith rose to her feet unsteadily, taking a moment as a wave of nausea
tore through her body. That, in
itself, seemed to harden her attitude as she realized the fate she would have
suffered if the Head Councilman had got a hold of her first.
Slow, measured steps took her across the room to where the
fallen man lay where he’d been dropped unceremoniously.
That he’d been spared no more thought than yesterday’s trash spoke
volumes about the group’s feelings. Taking
a page from their book, Faith barely paid Travers a glance as she drew back her
arm and plunged the stake into his heart…smiling as he crumbled to dust before
her eyes.
“Well, much as I’d like to say I’m enjoying the
action, me and Buffy have to be off. You
play nice with the kiddies. Slayer,
you’re with us. Ripper,
Red…have fun.” Spike wiggled
his eyebrows at the pair and pulled his childe to her feet.
“We’ll hole up at the room for the day since it’s so close to dawn.
Head out come nightfall.”
“Sure you don’t want to stay a bit longer?”
“Nah…this is your thing, mate.” Spike headed for the door, pulling Buffy along with him.
The Slayer trailed slowly behind the couple.
“Be seein’ ya.”
Not bothering to turn around, he raised a hand in salute
and was gone; leaving Ripper, Willow, and Ethan in the room with the corpses
that would soon make up their vampire labor force.
“You’ll miss them,” Willow commented.
Ripper leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on
the ornate desk. A second later, he
had a squealing redhead sprawled in his lap.
“Yeah…I think I will. He
was the first person I met that actually understood my aims.” His voice was deeper, signifying that it was Eyghon speaking
to her. “Rather unusual in a
vampire. I figured I’d have to
stake him when this was all said and done.
But, he proved me wrong. He’s
a lot smarter than that grandsire of his ever gave him credit for.
I fully expect to see him leading the Aurelius clan someday.
He’ll restore it to its former glory.”
Willow sensed the demon retreating and snuggled closer to
her mentor. Truthfully, she was
very tired. She’d been conducting
spells for the last few days without a break and her body was protesting the
abuse. Still, she’d not
relinquished the glamour spell since she’d not been given permission as yet.
Ripper glanced down at the girl, sensing her exhaustion.
He could have told her to let loose the glamour spell some time ago, but
he’d wanted to see just how much he could push his young protégée.
She was a secret delight to him. Who’d
have guessed that the lowly computer geek would aspire to become a powerful
witch? That she still managed to
maintain the last spell, even as tired as she was, just proved the potency
nestled within her compact body.
One that he fully planned to explore once the new minions
had risen and knew their new duties. Until
then, he’d let the girl prove herself to him.
And if she was good, really good, he’d make it worth her while.
He smiled, thinking of all the things he could accomplish
now. Now that he was free.
His blood-red eyes took in the loyal slave he had in Ethan, and the
perfect bedmate he had in the redheaded teen.
Life was definitely good. Hell,
he’d even take the sniveling lawyer up on his deal.
It would mean some slight adjustment in his plans, but they’d not been
set in stone, so it wouldn’t make much difference.
Ripper resettled the girl on his lap, forcing her plaid
skirt to bunch around the top of her thighs.
She didn’t seem to object as she ground herself against him, warming
quickly to the idea of another tryst.
“I’ll just uh…yeah…” Ethan commented before
retreating from the room.
Ripper smirked at the departing man’s back.
Once upon a time when he’d have pulled up a chair and enjoyed the show.
Guess Ethan was getting prudish in his old age.
He chuckled for a second, then quickly forgot about his slave as Willow
rotated her hips in his lap. Her
fingers fumbled with the fastenings of his pants, his breath leaving him in a
hiss seconds later as she grasped him rather forcefully in her slight hands,
stroking him from base to tip and back again.
His eyes rolled into the back of his head as she suddenly impaled herself
on his shaft – the minx had spent the entire time in his company without any
knickers on.
She wasn’t hesitant in the least, riding his dick as if
she couldn’t get enough of him. Ripper
could feel power radiating from her frame.
How it seemed to envelope them both, elevating their coupling to a
fevered pitch. She was moaning
little phrases now, naughty little tidbits of filth that drove him crazy, coming
from such a sweet young mouth. He gripped the globes of her ass, his nails
leaving crescents that filled with drops of blood as he slammed her down on his
cock over and over again.
He could feel her impending orgasm and increased his pace,
his jabbing thrust bordering on pain and he sought his own release.
She didn’t seem to mind, too caught up in the act to notice a little
discomfort. When she flung her head
back and keened her pleasure, Ripper was right there with her, thrusting up into
her spasming passage one last time as his cock flooded her womb.
Replete for the time being, Ripper relaxed back into the
plush chair, allowing Willow to rest against his chest.
He closed his eyes, imagining all the things he was going to do now that
he was in control of the Watchers’ stronghold.
He smiled malevolently as he contemplated his first evil
deed.
~*~*~*~*~
Buffy began pulling off clothes the second they entered the
Royal Suite. With dawn imminent,
she wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with her sire and sleep until
sunset. Her sire’s sudden growl
caused her to pause in her striptease, her head cocked to one side as she waited
for him to tell her what was wrong.
When Xander walked out of the master suite, it took her a
moment to react. Then she was
flying across the room and throwing herself into her friend’s arms, laughing
when he twirled her around and around.
“Xander!” she managed to gasp out. “How did—”
“Hello, Buff,” Angelus drawled.
Spike growled again in warning.
Buffy froze, waiting to see what her sire would do, Xander
wisely stepping away from the alpha males as they continued to stare each other
down.
It was Faith that inadvertently broke the pair up as she
walked into the room to stand beside Buffy.
“What’s up, B?”
“Um…”
“A slayer?” Angelus roared.
“You brought a slayer here? Of
all the—”
“Shut it, wanker. She’s
on our side.”
Angelus ignored the disrespectful moniker and settled on
what his grandchilde was telling him. He
glowered at him, waiting.
“Bint’s had enough of bein’ the Slayer.
Was actually set to be offed by her boss.
We just managed to beat them to it.”
“Ok, I get that. What
the hell’s she still doing alive then?”
“Never could see the obvious, could you?” Spike snorted
as he rolled his eyes at the elder vamp.
“I let the first one pass, Will. Don’t be thinkin’ I’ll let a second one slide.”
“Ooh, is that right?
And what are you gonna do about it?”
Angelus just fixed his grandchilde with a look.
A thrill of anticipation shot through Spike.
Confrontations with Angelus got his dead blood pumping and he’d been on
the receiving end of some spectacular beatings over the decades that left him
broken and battered. But that still didn’t stop him from opening his mouth and
laying down a few ground rules. The
balance of power had shifted.
And Angelus listened and nodded, intrigued by his grandchilde’s plans.