In the tunnels beneath the city, vampires from all over Sunnydale were gathering before the Master. The first to reach him was the vampire calling himself "Master" of Sunnydale. He fell to his knees in front of the ancient vampire before him. "Master, I am Maverick, Master of Sunnydale. I have come to offer my clan to your service."

"Do you swear your loyalty to me, and accept me as your Master?"

"I swear it."

"Drink my son," the Master said as he extended his wrist to the vampire before him. "Be bound to me, and taste my power."

Maverick sank his fangs into the Master's wrist, and felt the power of the older demon's blood strengthen him. After he drank his fill, he let go of the Master's wrist and remained kneeling for instructions. The Master rose from his throne and placed his hand on the shoulder of Maverick. "Maverick is my right hand and in charge of my minions. No one will disobey him, lest they seek my wrath."

The Master returned to his seat and as Maverick stood at his right side; one by one the over 200 vampires in the cavern sank to their knees before the Master, swore their allegiance, and were bound to him through blood.


****


At 5:30, the Scooby Gang met at the Courthouse for Anya and Xander's wedding. Buffy, Dawn, and Tara were bridesmaids, and as planned the girls wore their green dresses. Giles gave away Anya, and Willow was Best Person. The ceremony was short, sweet, and to the point. At 6:15 Xander kissed the bride. Instead of the usual march and reception, the Scooby Gang went to the Bronze where the groups from London and LA and Spike were waiting to celebrate the marriage.

Introductions were quickly made and, after the meal, Xander and Anya headed for the dance floor. Angel, Cordelia, Ryvr and Connor gave their blessings and disappeared. Everyone watched as the couple danced to a slow song. When the music changed to a faster beat, most of the others went to dance, leaving the grown-ups and Spike at the table. Giles was deep in conversation with James and Bridget about Slayer training, the prophecy, and how impossible it was to get a decent cup of tea in the States.

Spike was idly smoking a cigarette and drinking beer when he felt the hairs on his neck stand up. "Like what you see, pet?" He directed to Morgaine without looking at her.

"I would like to speak with you privately. Is there anywhere we can go?" Morgaine managed to keep her voice as calm as possible, but Spike could smell the tension emanating from the woman.

"Yeah, upstairs. Let me get another beer, and I'll meet you there." He motioned Morgaine towards the balcony as he headed for the bar.

Morgaine made her way upstairs and leaned on the balcony watching the children. They were having fun. She smiled a little regretfully as she knew it would be the last fun any of them had for a long while. She opened herself up to the energies in the club, trying to search out any demons or dangers. She didn't expect to get slapped with images of Buffy and Spike screwing in the exact spot she was standing, nor the images of Spike's last victim. Not shocked, but surprised, she smirked at Spike as he joined her, "A favorite spot of yours, I presume?"

Spike's eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. He hadn't been on the balcony since that night with the Slayer, and before that night the last time he'd been up there, he was with Dru. "I meant the sofas over there." He stalked off and sat down in the corner of a sofa.

Morgaine followed him, eyes dancing brightly. For a vampire, this one had many layers, she mused. "I have the sight you know."

"What of it?" Spike sprawled out all over the couch, not looking the slightest bit surprised at Morgaine's revelation.

"I felt like you should be prepared for what is to come." She watched as the vampire picked a piece of invisible lint off of his black shirt. "Big battle, old enemy, a test for myself, nothing new there." Spike was the picture of nonchalance.

Morgaine's eyes narrowed, a flare of anger surged within her. How dare he mock what she was doing; telling someone their future broke nearly all the rules. Just then Morgaine finally saw Spike's aura and her anger gave way to curiosity.

It wasn't a single color like a human's, or black like most vampires'. It was mottled, spots of black, gray, and white unlike any she had ever seen before. She studied the posture of the vampire before her. Seated on the end of the couch, he looked completely relaxed with one arm thrown across the back and legs splayed wide, smoking and drinking. The set of his shoulders, though, gave him away. Offensive posture, muscles bunched ready to fight, the line of his jaw set firm.

She could sense he was projecting his power to warn other evil creatures to stay out of this place for the night. His eyes remained locked on Dawn, who was out on the dance floor with Maggie, as they were drawing some attention from the few teenaged boys in the crowd.

She understood fully that he wasn't a normal vampire and never had been, but now she was beginning to see that he was a more `normal' vampire than she had thought. He's assimilated Buffy and her friends into roles of a vampire clan. She caught a flare of red in the aura and followed his eyes. A young man was asking Buffy to dance and it didn't look like he was going to take no for an answer. Morgaine heard a very soft growl emit from the vampire, his eyes flashed yellow and he was on the edge of his seat. She began to worry for the safety of the young man below, but then Tara walked up to Buffy and put her arm around her. Buffy looked up at the girl and, to a stranger, it appeared for all the world that the girls were lovers. The young man left disappointed.

Spike's chuckle brought her out of her reverie. Once again, he resumed his relaxed posture, although he was anything but, and Morgaine knew it. "Have you ever sired a childe?" Despite herself, Morgaine leaned in a bit closer to Spike to hear his answer.

"That's a bit personal don't you think?" He extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray, almost immediately lighting another one, belying his anxiety.

Morgaine was not at all fazed by his apparent unwillingness to pursue this avenue of conversation. "No, I don't. You're well over 100 years old, and by this time most master vampires would have at least two childer. Don't you think it's rare you've never done it?"

"Never found anyone I thought I could stand to spend eternity with." He shrugged and took another swallow of his beer. " `Sides, it's a big responsibility. Got to teach `em to control themselves, understand their new senses, teach them to control `em so they won't be overwhelmed. I was usually so busy taking care of Dru... didn't want the added burden." He shrugged.

"You're about to become a sire." Morgaine dropped her bombshell in the simplest words possible, awaiting the shrapnel of Spike's response.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about? I'm not about to turn anyone," Spike shouted at the witch. He jumped up and immediately began pacing.

"I didn't say you were going to turn someone, I said you were about to become a sire, to someone I'm afraid you don't think very much of." Morgaine sat back further on the sofa so she could observe the pacing blonde.

"Not bloody likely." He snorted for emphasis.

"Oh William, it's more than likely, in fact it will happen very soon. You won't turn him, but if you don't transfer the sire-childe bond to yourself, disaster will follow."

"Don't you people ever get tired of talking in riddles?" Spike demanded as he made the connection between Morgaine's words and the people in his circle. "Bloody Hell! I hate him, he despises me, and now you're telling me I've got to be his bloody sire? If you think for one bloody second that I'm actually going to..." he gave up, defeated when he saw the absolute certainty in Morgaine's _expression. If there was one thing he learned about psychics from Dru, it was the indisputable truth behind most visions. He decided to try another tack. "Can't we stop him from getting turned?"

"No; if he isn't turned, you will fail to prevent the prophecy. No one will be able to prevent this from happening. However, if he is souled and you take over the responsibility as his sire, then you all stand a much better chance of actually winning. If he isn't souled and you shirk the responsibilities as his sire, then you are all doomed." Morgaine sighed and wondered if she had done the correct thing in warning Spike ahead of time.

"Look, don't you think you'd be better off telling Giles instead of me?" Spike had stopped his pacing and was standing by the balcony holding the railing with a white knuckled grip, watching the others dance and party, a resigned slump to his shoulders.

"No, none of them can help him. His sire must be destroyed. And we must ensoul him and find him before he wakes and feeds. If he feeds before we get to him, all will be lost."

Spike didn't meet Morgaine's eyes as he spoke his next words. "The Master is out there right now, ya know? I can feel him calling out to me, to join him. He's the founder of my bloodline,; his blood runs through my veins...it's so hard to not go to him. The whelp will never be able to resist it."

"Did you ever drink from the Master?"

"No." Spike ran his hands through his hair, took another swallow of beer, and lit a cigarette. " `S'only reason I `aven't gone. I can resist it. He's binding all the vampires in Sunnydale to him as we speak. With each one that swears allegiance, it gets harder, my demon wants t' go join the soddin' family."

"The one who will Sire the Loyal, he is the Master's right hand and YOU must defeat him to make the sire-childe bond complete." Morgaine rubbed her temples, trying to ease her tension.

In complete rage and in game face, Spike quietly but furiously turned on Morgaine, "Look you bloody sanctimonious, ubiquitous, interfering bitch. I AM A VAMPIRE, I know how and what to do, I don't need your soddin' instruction."

Morgaine's pulse was pounding in her head. She felt sure the vampire wouldn't harm her, but she couldn't be positive. She managed to project a calm façade before she spoke. "No, you don't need my instruction, I do realize that. What you and he will both need before much longer is to be bound to the side you're fighting for. If that doesn't happen, your demons will bind themselves to the Master before either of you can prevent it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to have a visit with the bride." Without another look or thought towards the vampire, Morgaine descended the stairs to find Anya and give her the terms of deal made with D'Hoffryn.

"Bloody fuckin' hell," Spike muttered as he took another swig of beer. "I'm getting the fuck out of here." He strode down the steps, attempting to flee when Buffy intercepted him.

Spike managed to growl out "What do you want?"

Buffy smiled sweetly. "Dance with me?" Spike sighed in defeat once again. He wouldn't go out and kill demons to work off his fury, but he would work it off with Buffy on the dance floor. The music changed to an industrial-techno beat. "Hope you know you're gonna get what you asked for." He dragged her onto the dance floor. Struggling to keep his face human, he let it all go to dance out his frustration and fury at the impotence he was feeling to stop the inevitable. Buffy was startled at the way he surrendered to the music, but the Slayer inside of her was also screaming for release. The flow of demonic energies around her had had her on edge since the previous night, but dancing with Spike seemed to take the edge off of them both.

Morgaine smiled ruefully when she found Rupert, James, and Xander at the bar doing shots of tequila. Unerringly, she made her way to the ladies room. There she found Anya fixing her make up, glowing with pride and love. `The child doesn't need any makeup,' she mused.

"You know, don't you, Anyanka?"

"That Xander will be dead within the week? Yes, I know, and whatever arrangement you've made with D'Hoffryn, I accept." Anya carefully reapplied her lipstick, never taking her eyes off her own reflection in the mirror.

"He will be dead, Anyanka, and you cannot be allowed to interfere."

Morgaine held up a hand to stop Anya before she could protest. "Don't interrupt, child. He will be returned to you."

"He will? By my power?" The lipstick fell, forgotten, into the sink.

"No."

"Then what good is my power?" Anya demanded. She felt like crying, but was stopping herself only because she did not want to smear her mascara. Things needed to stay perfect just for now, she reasoned. Noticing Anya was already wearing her necklace, probably to represent something old and something blue, Morgaine continued patiently, "Your power will be different. Once you repeat the incantation, all the physical strength you had before will be returned. You will have access to all the lore and spells D'Hoffryn has at his disposal, but you will not have the power to grant wishes, or any more magickal ability than you currently possess."

Confused and completely devastated, Anya whined, "Then what good will it do?"

"You will have the knowledge needed to help the group with the prophecy, and the ability to bind him to you when the time comes." Morgaine watched understanding flash across Anya's face. Leaving the bride in the bathroom to contemplate her future, she turned on her heel and left the Bronze. She'd originally intended to return to the table with the others but the music was too loud. There were far too many bodies, and she really didn't want to face Rupert. She knew he'd be able to sense that she knew more than she let on, and was not about to confront him.