Parts: 11 - 20
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~Part: 11~
Sancho Panza - Sancho Panza is a character from Miguel de Cervantes, “Don Quixote.” He’s Don Quixote's squire and loyal sidekick who often ignores his own practical good sense to follow Don Quixote faithfully throughout his adventures.
As soon as the sun set, the three vampires began making their way to find the Slayer. Spike, cockily whistling a tune was flanked by his two self-appointed bodyguards. Before they had left, Djoser had insisted that Spike drink the blood their Father had left. He rationalized like Angel; the more of their Sire’s blood they could pump down William, the better. What the two failed to take into consideration was with Angel’s blood flowing through him, Spike felt better, but the better he felt, the shorter his memory became in remembering his weakened condition.
Djoser with serious misgivings running through his mind, kept his eyes straight ahead. He didn’t even want to look over at Ramose, who to the casual observer was expressionless, but not to Djoser. The two immortal companions could read each other like books. Ramose was giving Djoser a look that clearly said, have your completely lost your mind?
Spike had no misgivings running through his mind. Happy to be unchained from the bed, happy to be getting out of the house, and happy to see the sight in front of his eyes! At the edge of the mansion’s grounds was a pike topped with the head of the demonoid Adam. The minions had put it there. An old custom used by vampires and humans alike to express victory and to intimidate other enemies. “Yeah, mate so which one of us lost their head, eh?” Spike grinned at the head while walking by it.
**
Sitting alone at the Bronze on Friday night, Buffy felt humbled. Xander
and Anya were together, ‘enjoying each other’s company’ , and Willow and
Tara were together, also probably enjoying....Buffy stopped her thoughts.
Hey, each to their own, but that didn’t mean she wanted that
picture going through her head. Sighing, Buffy reached down to get her
purse. She had promised her mother that she would stop by tonight. Might
as well go there now. With Riley still gone, Buffy was odd man out.
“Hey luv. Bought you a drink.” Spike set the coke in front of Buffy,
looking at it distastefully.
Ok she had been desperate for company, but not that desperate, especially
when she saw that Spike was accompanied by Djoser and another dangerous
looking vampire who Buffy recognized from three nights ago. He, too had
been with Angel the night they had all come looking for Spike. She didn’t
want to be socializing with these three vampires, but how could she leave
them here at the Bronze with this unsuspecting crowd of people? “What are
you doing here?” She rudely asked Spike, eyeing the other two vampires
who were casually leaning on the very next table.
“Need to talk to you.”
“And those two?” Gesturing over at the two dark vampires.
“Oh, you mean Poof Junior, and Sancho Panza, his faithful sidekick?
They’re joined at the hip, you know. They’re here to make sure I stay out
of trouble.”
“Is Sancho Poncho a Blood-Childe, too?” Buffy squinted in the dim lighting,
trying to see if said vampire carried the mark of a Blood-Childe.
“Who?” Spike looked at Buffy in amazement. {How could this Slayer be
so unbeatable, when she was such a ding-dong sometimes?} “Sancho Panza
is a character from Don Quixote. He’s Don Quixote’s devoted serv...” Stopping
at Buffy’s blank look. “Don Quixote, the book by Miguel de Cervantes.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Cor, Slayer,” Rolling his eyes, “What the hell do they teach you at
that college?”
“Plenty. So, Professor Spike, how many degrees do you hold?”
Sensing her mounting anger, Spike backed down. After all he was here
for a favor. “Never went to a formal school, but Angel brought in tutors
for me.” {Yeah, how many did I go through?}
“Tutors?” Buffy looked at him with interest. “You had tutors? He made
you...study?”
“All the bloody time. Bloody Wanker.” Spike swore softly to himself.
How many beatings did he endure, because he just couldn’t sit still through
the lessons? “We’re evil vampires, but we’re educated evil vampires. Angelus
wouldn’t have it any other way.”
{What a paradox! Demons who believed in an education!} Buffy couldn’t
help but look at Spike oddly. “So what do you want to talk to me about?
And make it fast, my mother is expecting me.”
“Your mum? You’re going to see your mum?” A picture flashed through
Spike’s mind. A picture of Joyce Sommers offering hot chocolate to those
two bloody bores with him. He couldn’t resist. “Wouldn’t mind saying hi
to your mum. Maybe she’ll make some hot chocolate. I’ll walk over with
you, and we can talk on the way.”
“Are you out of your mind? You’re not going with me to my mom’s house,
especially not with those two.” Gesturing again toward Djoser and Ramose.
“They haven’t ever been invited in. They’ll stand outside. Although...”
Spike leaned over and whispered to her, “picture the two of them in your
mother’s kitchen with her serving them hot chocolate. That, Slayer would
be a Kodak moment.”
**
Spike didn’t even give Djoser a chance to argue with him, just announced
that they were going to walk the Slayer home, and hurried out after Buffy.
Trailing William and the Slayer, Djoser was trying to figure out how to
drag his brother home without doing any bodily harm to him. William had
promised him: they would find the Slayer, talk to her, and then go back
to the mansion. It certainly wasn’t in the plan to walk the Slayer home.
Djoser was getting a bad feeling about the whole situation. He probably
was in for a severe punishment already for disobeying his Sire, but if
anything were to happen to William...Djoser didn’t even want to contemplate
those consequences.
“Spike, I’m the Slayer. You’re a vampire. If you die, that’s a good
thing for me.” Buffy couldn’t believe what Spike had just asked of her.
“Tell me Slayer.” Djoser had caught up to the pair, and was now walking
alongside Buffy. “Will you still think it’s such a good thing when we hunt
down your family and friends and kill them all?”
Stopping abruptly, Buffy felt her anger rising. “Is that a threat?”
Standing nose-to-nose Djoser looked down at Buffy. “You and your boyfriend
were the ones who set William up. If he dies, we will certainly avenge
his death. Our Sire has promised that.”
Spike looked at his brother in surprise. {When had his Sire made such
a promise?} “Listen Slayer.” Grabbing her arm and pulling her away from
Djoser. “My tactless brother does have a point. Do you really want to go
up against the soulless Wonder again? Help me, and afterwards I’ll convince
Angel that we should leave the country. We’ll be out of your life forever.
”
“Boy, deja vu Spike. It seems I remember you making that same promise
a couple of years ago. And here you still are making my life miserable.”
Sighing, Spike eyed Buffy for a moment. “Without a soul, you know that
Angel only plays with half a deck. If he goes on a vengeance rampage with
these two Sods..." Jerking his thumb at Djoser and Ramose. "Backing him
up, how many people will die before you’re able to stop him? If you’re
able to stop him.”
“I’m not afraid of him. I’m not afraid of any of you. Or have you forgotten
that I’ve defeated him and you before?” Buffy knew that she was being incredibly
stupid by antagonizing the three vampires. She was outnumbered three to
one, but both Djoser and Spike were rubbing her the wrong way. {What was
it with that family?}
“You talk pretty big, Slayer.” Djoser was staring at Buffy scornfully.
“Would you like to see if you can get *lucky* three times and beat me also.”
“Oh fer Christ’s sake! Shut your gobs, both of you.” Spike stayed between
the two while the foursome continued to slowly walk to Buffy’s house. If
his stupid brother started a brawl with the Slayer now, that would just
about kill any possible deal with her. {What the fuck was wrong with him?
Didn’t he know the meaning of diplomacy?} Then Spike smelled it. Arousal!
The Slayer was having an effect on Djoser! {Fuckin’ A. Old Stiff-Ass has
feelings after all!} For the first time Spike could identify slightly with
his brother. How many times had he felt the same about the Slayer? That
contradictory feeling of wanting to shag and beat her face in at the same
time.
Rounding the corner, approaching the house, the four stopped dead in
their tracks. A group of about eight vampires were standing on the front
lawn. All eight had a band of white running through their hair.
“You set me up!” Buffy turned furiously at Spike.
“Hey, those ponces don’t belong to us. We don’t have any minions that
look like skunks.”
“Slayer,” The lead minion hissed at Buffy as he drew near to them. “You’ll
make a nice present for the Master.” Standing in front of them, the vampire
then took notice of the three Childer of Angelus. Immediately he observed
Djoser and Spike’s marks. “Blood-Childer!” Smirking “The old ways mean
nothing to us; our Master has shown us that. And Blood-Childer. This is
what we think of Blood-Childer.” To show his contempt the minion spat in
Spike’s face.
Moving quickly, Djoser was able to grab on to his brother’s coat collar
before Spike launched himself at the minion. “William, you need to get
out of here *now*.”
Temper flaring, there was no way that Spike was going to let any minion
get away with treating him like that. Deftly slipping out of his duster
that Djoser had a hold of, he grabbed the minion by the throat, squeezing
hard. His attack was the catalyst, as the battle royal began. These minions
were well-trained fighters, but still could not compare with a Slayer and
three vampires who ‘grew-up’ under the tutelage of the Scourge of Europe.
And Spike, although reckless, was not stupid, as he fought a defensive
battle, making sure that his opponents didn’t put a scratch on him.
Staking the vampire she had been tangling with, Buffy had a moment to
do a quick assessment. She needed to get into the house. She needed to
see if her mother was alright. As if Joyce could hear her daughter’s plea,
she suddenly appeared in the front doorway, bruised and battered but alive.
Surrounding her were three men, faces human, no white streaks in the hair
and one of them with a gun to her head! Buffy froze, mind working furiously.
Nothing must happen to her mother! In that microsecond of hesitation, the
enemy with the gun turned and fired straight at Buffy. Djoser, finishing
off another minion, looked up and saw the shot being fired. Instinctively
he latched onto Buffy from behind, gripping her around the waist, and pulling
her down to the ground. The bullet missed Buffy because of Djoser knocking
her out of its way, but found a target in Spike who busy with a minion
of his own, never saw it coming. The bullet caught him from behind, in
the right shoulder; its impact throwing him to the ground where he lay
bleeding and unmoving.
****
Part 12 is a flashback expanding on Angelus and William
in the cellar of a burning building in Saber ShadowKitten’s fic ’Little
One’ from her Absence Diminishes Little series. I’ve had many different
scenarios running through my mind regarding that snippet ever since I read
that fic, and when an opportunity presented itself to ask SS permission,
I seized the moment. Many thanks to her for saying yes. This part seems
a little out of content, but there are events that happen in it that are
impacting present events. Some are obvious, and some are rather obscure.
But I promise to tie it all up in future parts.
The Ventrue Clan, the aristocratic elites, possessed of
rare good taste and sophistication.
~Part: 12~
1859
William studied the man in front of him, a bored look on his face. Another
tutor! William snickered to himself. {Wonder 'ow long this one is gonna
last?} Although this teacher was different, he was a vampire. The others
had been humans. A resourceful man, his Sire, to find a qualified *vampire*
teacher.
The human tutors had never lasted long. They either quit in disgust
and were then eaten, or they were fired by Angelus who either ate them
or gave them to someone else in the household to eat. Not one of the tutors
had had much success in teaching William anything. They were living in
Germany, but William still could not speak one word of German, so English
had to be used in his presence. And the English that Childe spoke grated
on Angelus’ nerves like fingernails on chalkboard. Highly educated, Angelus
had no patience for ignorance. Since William had never gone to school as
a mortal, he was truly ignorant, and Angelus was determined to change that.
Their relationship already strained, the battle of wills began. It wasn’t
that William was stupid; quite the contrary, he was clever and quick-witted.
He just couldn’t stand to sit still for any length of time. Angelus beat
him almost on a daily basis for ripping up books, locking the teacher in
a closet, or completely destroying the classroom. But the beatings had
no effect on William, as he found them less painful than sitting still
for any lesson.
Refusing to allow a mere Childe to get the best of him, Angelus sought
help from his sister-in-law who was an expert on who’s who in the vampire
community.
“There’s a vampire from the Ventrue Clan who as a mortal had taught
at Oxford University. He was turned by one of their first generation Blood-Childer,
so he’s above a minion, and he kept his intellect and his scholarly ways
after being turned. A rarity, but perhaps not so rare for that Clan.”
Angelus looked in amazement at the vampiress. {How did she always know
about everything and everyone?} Being that she was a practitioner of the
black arts, Angelus sometimes imagined her sitting in a darkened room watching
everyone in a crystal gazing orb. But that of course was ridiculous, he
was just being paranoid. “The Ventrue Clan. Will he be willing to come
and work for me?”
Alex shrugged her shoulders. “There is no open hostility between our
two Clans right now, and being that he’s a Ventrue vampire, he probably
needs money. He hasn‘t been turned for very long, and he wasn’t rich as
a mortal. Being cultured is expensive, you know...By the way, what is the
name of this new Childe of yours?”
Stiffening, Angelus wondered if it had been a smart move coming here
to see Alex. She tended to know too much about everything, and he couldn’t
afford for anyone outside his household to know about William. “Goes by
the name of Samuel.”
“Samuel... and when do you plan to present him to the Master?” All Childer,
Blood and Turned were presented to the Master and the Clan.
“Oh not for a little while yet. He’s very coarse, that’s why I’m looking
for a tutor for him. The Master would be most displeased if I presented
him now. Refine him up a bit, before I bring him to Court.” Angelus had
no intention of ever presenting William. Give it a little time, and if
Alex inquired again, Samuel will have had a misfortunate encounter with
some Canopus demons.
“He’s a little coarse? Since that’s not your type, why would you turn
someone of that kind of breeding?”
“Couldn’t resist his beautiful face.” {That part was true at least.}
Raising an eyebrow Alex gave Angelus a look he didn’t like. “How interesting.
You must be sure to inform me when you plan to present him. I don’t want
to miss it. I’ll have to be there to welcome the new Childe of Angelus.
I must see this Childe whose beauty caught the attention of the reigning
heir of the Tremere Clan.”
**
1864
“Bloody hell!” William swore softly to himself. He was running out of
hiding places. The Master and his heir had been called away to court. With
neither of the two at home, Penn and Lucien had free rein. Free rein to
torment him. Both had already been ‘reborn’ and part of Angelus’ household
when Angelus had brought William home, so they were part of the small group
that knew the truth about William. Angelus’ secret was known only by his
Childer, one blood, Djoser and three turned, Ramose, Penn, and Lucien.
Perhaps Drusilla knew the truth too, but no one was really sure.
Knowing the truth, Penn and Lucien were envious of him, even though
their Sire never gave William his due status as a Blood-Childe. And now
with both Angelus and Djoser gone, the two took full advantage, ganging
up on William and beating him to a bloody pulp. But when they tried to
rape him, they were taken by surprise. Stronger than he looked, he had
been able to fight them off. Searching for him now, the two knew he couldn’t
hide from them indefinitely.
Bruised and bloody William found his way to a guest cottage on the property.
Housed there was his teacher for the last five years. A Ventrue vampire,
he was more scholar than demon. He had succeeded where many others had
failed. Years later, William who then would be known by the name of Spike,
would remember his old teacher, grateful for his teaching, because knowledge
certainly had its advantages.
William’s new teacher had succeeded, not just because he was a vampire,
although that certainly gave him some advantages over his human predecessors,
but he succeeded because of the astute insight he possessed. He realized
that William was bright, but to teach him one had to make allowances. Give
him space, let him fidget, keep lessons short, let him read laying on the
floor with his legs draped over a chair. The scholarly vampire’s methods
worked, and William’s underused mind began to soak up knowledge like a
sponge.
Spending so much time together, teacher and student bonded, and teacher
soon became the only friend William had in the household. A lonely soul,
since his Sire played hot and cold with him, Djoser and Ramose, although
not cruel toward William, largely ignored him, Penn and Lucien shunned
him out of jealously, and Drusilla was only interested in her daddy and
her dolls.
So now desperate, William went to the only ally he had. He wasn’t sure
if his teacher’s cottage would give him sanctuary. It was unusual to have
an outside vampire as a paid employee, so the Ventrue vampire’s status
in the household was ambiguous at best, but he had run out of other options.
On the look out, Penn and Lucien saw William enter the cottage. Frustrated
because they had failed in their latest attempt to truly humiliate and
dominate their Sire’s unwanted whelp, they took things too far. Whether
they had planned murder, or they just got caught up in the moment, was
unknown, perhaps even to themselves. First making sure that all possible
exits were blocked, they then set fire to the cottage.
Panicking, the two trapped vampires wasted precious time by trying to
open the blocked door before remembering the cellar. Alarm and concern
for his protege caused the Ventrue to became careless. He got too close
to the flames, as he moved the furniture off the top of the trap-door.
Hair and clothes caught on fire; shrieking, the vampire went up fast. Shocked,
William could only watch as his mentor burned up before his eyes. Too traumatized
to think clearly, William began to rush towards the dead man’s ashes, with
the mistaken notion that he could still somehow save him.
Returning home earlier than expected, Angelus saw the smoke and fire.
He was quickly informed of what was happening by a group of minions who
were eager to tattle on the much hated Penn and Lucien. Racing to the cottage,
he surprised Penn and Lucien who swiftly fell to their knees in fear. Ignoring
them, he crashed through the barricaded door, grabbing William before he
too walked into the flames. Roof about to collapse, he stumbled down into
the cellar holding William tightly to him.
Tears running down his face, William struggled. His teacher was upstairs
and needed saving! Pinning him to the floor with his superior weight, Angelus
used a method of control that all vampire Fathers had over their Blood-Childer.
Because a Blood-Childe is of the flesh and of the blood of the Father,
a Father, by virtue of drinking his Childe’s blood can ‘push’ into the
Childe’s consciousness. After drinking from William, Angelus then ‘pushed’
into him, calming him. Then settling down into a corner, he held his Childe
tenderly. “William, Little One. I’m here now. I won’t let anything happen
to you.”
Licking away William’s tears, the princely vampire wrapped his body
around his Childe’s, as if to form a protective barrier between him and
the fire that raged upstairs.
**
Saddened by the loss of his teacher, and baffled by his Sire’s behavior,
William moodily kicked some of the charred remains of the cottage. Angelus
had continued his protective ways toward his Childe by severely punishing
Penn and Lucien. William knew he wouldn’t be bothered by them for awhile.
For the next thirty plus years, Angelus would continue to alternate
being cruel and punishing one day, and then loving and protective the next.
In a constant state of confusion, William never knew if he hated or loved
his Sire. For all the beatings and abuse Angelus would inflict on his Childe,
his paradoxical behavior would be the greatest abuse of all.
~Part: 13~
Happily clutching a pile of papers, Giles couldn’t believe his good
luck. He and Wesley had been researching themselves silly, but all they
had to show for their time and effort was some basic information on Djoser.
Second generation Blood-Childe of Angelus. Favorite Childe of his generation.
Ruthless and cruel, he had killed many, and he wasn’t particular on who
he killed, whether it be humans, vampires, or other demons. Interesting,
but not anything earth shaking, as they probably could have pieced that
much about him on their own. That is, until Wesley found a small passage
about Djoser being ostracized from the Tremere Clan. Sensing that they
had stumbled across something important, the two ex-Watchers began delving
deeper. Sure enough, another small tidbit of information. According to
one source, Angelus, himself had been ostracized from the Clan and had
fled to England sometime in 1885.
Giles couldn’t believe that he had missed that fact about Angel years
ago, but it certainly explained why it had been so easy for Angel to stake
Darla and assist in bringing down the old Master. Wanting to know more
about this ostracism, Giles had phoned an old acquaintance. An old acquaintance
who still was employed by the Council, and whose photographic memory made
him an expert in the historical reference department. Sure enough, Giles
was not disappointed with his long time friend who had every piece of reference
material that the Council owned catalogued in his amazing memory. Hidden
away, where of course it did no one any good, was a rare journal written
by a Watcher who had lost two of his Slayers to the Tremere Clan. Fighting
the Tremere Clan for so many years, this Watcher had had the opportunity
to carefully observe and study them. His meticulous recording of events,
observations, and theories was a true gold mine.
At a public fax machine Giles marveled as one by one the pages came
slowly out. That he could be receiving copied pages of a rare text from
across an ocean was indeed a miracle. He made him start to rethink his
position on modern technology. A fax machine would certainly be a handy
tool to have around, as well as a computer. Shudder. Jenny would be proud
though.
Opening his front door, Giles was eager to show Wesley the discovery.
“Wesley, it says here that Angelus led an uprising against the old Mast...“
Giles was stopped short by the sight of Angel. Standing just a few feet
from Wesley, Angel looked cool and collected, his dark eyes giving nothing
away. Wesley, on the other hand, stood there, red-faced and flustered.
“Angelus! What a {unpleasant} surprise!”
“Rupert.” Wesley was like an eager child. “Angel and I have come to
an agreement. We help find a cure for Spike, and he’ll agree to let himself
and his two sons become souled.”
{Really?} Giles couldn’t hide his disbelief. Wesley would buy such a
lie, because he so desperately wanted things to be back to where they were.
But he didn’t know the soulless Angel like Giles did. Giles didn’t believe
for one moment that Angel had any intention of letting himself be cursed
with a soul again. “How interesting.”
“Help me restore my Childe to health, Rupert, and I will honor the agreement.”
“You want my help too? You have Wesley here.”
Angel scowled at the ex-Watcher. {I knew he would be a harder sell than
Wesley.} “You’re the one with the influence over the Slayer and her friends.
I need to know that the Slayer won’t be attacking us. I want a truce with
her.”
“Buffy’s older now. She does what she wants.”
“You can convince her. She still listens to you.”
Giles did have to smile to himself. It seemed that vampire fathers and
sons communicated as well as human fathers and sons, or Angel would have
heard from Spike how Buffy did “Have her come here then. I’ll talk to all three of you.”
“It’s Friday night. I’m sure she has already made plans for tonight.
It would be best if I just try to see if she can come here tomorrow.”
Growling softly to himself, Angel was frustrated. He couldn’t wait until
tomorrow. “Friday night. She’s probably at the Bronze. Let’s go and see
if we can find her there.”
“We?” Giles was enjoying being difficult.
Angel remained silent for a few seconds, studying the two men in front
of him. “Giles, Wesley, recently a Blood-Childe of my brother died of this
poison. Do you know how the poison kills? It slowly eats away a vampire’s
insides. My brother’s Childe died a slow, horrible death. William had made
a deal with all of you in good faith, and now he is dying. You say demons
are treacherous, but you humans are no better. With that chip in his head,
he couldn’t defend himself, but even staking him would have been more merciful.”
“They didn’t realize what the Initiative planned to do.” Wesley said
weakly as Giles cringed inside.
Angel had hit a nerve with Giles. Although he had plenty of reservations
about the Initiative, he still had been involved in the bargaining process
between Spike, Riley and the Initiative doctor. He had not lived up to
his word, his promise to Spike that he had ‘no intention of killing a harmless
creature.’ And Giles was truly a principled man, never subscribing to the
ideology of most of colleagues, that the ‘end justifies the means.’ Probably
why he no longer worked for the Council.
Looking over at Angel, Giles was astounded. Obviously in emotional pain,
a desperate father stood before him, not a vampire, not a demon, just a
man who wanted to save his child.
Wesley saw it too. “Ah, Rupert, I really could use a breath of fresh
air, and I’ve heard so much about the Bronze from Cordelia, that it would
be rather interesting to see the place. What do you say?”
**
Getting up quickly, never taking his eyes off the enemy, Djoser moved
to attack. No bullet was going to stop him!
“Djoser! William is seriously hurt! We need to get him to our Sire immediately!”
Ramose’s words made him hesitate. And the three remaining foe, knowing
that retreat was their only hope for survival, took advantage and ran.
Concern for a brother and a mother, both vampire and Slayer let the men
escape.
Picking up his brother, Djoser was struck by the heat emanating from
him. Common sense told him that they needed to cool him down. “Slayer,
invite me in. William needs to be cooled down. I’ll put him in your bathtub
with cold water and ice.”
Holding her mother’s hand, Buffy was torn. This vampire had just probably
saved her life, but he was too dangerous to invite in her mother’s house.
But Joyce Summer’s took the decision right out of her hands. Without hesitation
she invited Djoser and Ramose in. They had saved her and her daughter’s
lives; they now deserved some help.
“Ramose go and get our Sire. He’s at the Watcher’s house.” The order
was unnecessary. Ramose had already left. He knew what he needed to do
without being told.
**
Arriving at the Bronze the three men saw no sign of Buffy, but looking
around Angel caught a scent, an unmistakable scent. The scent of his three
Childer! Stunned Angel could hardly believe it. He had left William chained
to the bed with Djoser watching over him. What the hell were they doing
here at the Bronze?
Asking around, they were told by a classmate of hers that she had left
a little while ago, left with three men. Three men who fit the description
of Angel’s Childer. Angel was beside himself; William running around Sunnydale
in his condition, with the Slayer, no less! Sniffing the air, tracking
their scent, Angel walked down the street with Giles and Wesley slowly
following alongside of him. That sense of foreboding passed over him again,
as a dark figure came running up the street toward him.
“Sire.” Ramose dropped to one knee respectfully. “It’s William.”
~Part: 14~
Rage so great that he wasn’t able to control the demon from showing.
Holding his oldest Childe around the throat, Angel slammed Djoser’s head
against the wall, untroubled that he was knocking a hole in Joyce Summer’s
living room. “How dare you disobey me! You take your brother out of the
house against my orders, and then you compound the disobedience by not
protecting him.”
Angel tightened his fingers around his son’s throat, demonstrating his
power, and then letting go, he threw a judo chop across the Adam’s apple.
Coughing and gagging Djoser fell to his knees in an act of submission.
“Angel, is this really necessary?” Wesley had just checked on the unconscious
Spike again. Not good, but not any worse either.
“What did I tell you Wesley, “He’s not totally at fault.” Buffy was not afraid to try and intercede.
Anything to try and stop this outburst. It was making them all extremely
uncomfortable. “Spike was the one who insisted on coming here.”
“William insisted on coming here? Why?”
“...he wanted to say hi to my mom, and see if she would make him hot
chocolate again.” Buffy winced a little. That sounded lame even to her.
A small hiss from the kneeling vampire made her look at him. His eyes said
it all, ‘shut-up Slayer, you’re not helping me.’
Finally getting his rage under control, Angel’s human face slid into
place. Walking over to the couch where Spike lay, he lay a gentle hand
on his Childe’s head. His head was so hot it burned the fingers. “You killed
all these vampires then?”
Not daring to stand up, Djoser answered his Sire. “All the vampires,
yes. But the three humans got away.”
Humans! Everyone in the room turned to look at Djoser.
“Explain.” Angel barked at his son.
“They had heartbeats Sire.”
“Describe them.” Because of Djoser’s training, Angel knew that it was
second nature to his eldest to do a fast, but thorough assessment of all
opponents.
“They moved like warriors. They were well armed. Guns, knives, crossbows,
stakes, holy water.”
“Vampire hunters?” Wesley muttered, half question, half statement. The
description sure fit. “But how is that possible? Vampire hunters allied
with vampires? Joyce, what did they want with you?”
Refusing to go and seek medical treatment, Joyce had stated that she
was not hurt seriously, just black-and-blue and tired. “They told me that
they knew that Buffy was the Slayer. Wanted to know where she was, and
wanted to know the whereabouts of the vampire she was in league with. I
kept telling them that he was no longer here in Sunnydale.” With that last
statement she looked cautiously over at Angel.
The room was silent for a moment as the group looked around at each
puzzled. “That makes no sense.” Giles too looked over at Angel. “You’ve
been gone for over a year now, why would anyone still be looking for you
here...Spike! Spike had been helping Buffy. He must be the vampire they
were looking for!”
Giles’ statement only served to make Angel’s black mood even blacker.
{What the hell was going on? Was everyone after William?}Rage bubbling
over again, Angel walked over to Djoser again, backhanding him across the
face. “You shouldn’t have let them get away? What the hell is the matter
with you?”
Djoser remained silent. He was not a man who made excuses for his failures,
especially to his Sire. “Perhaps you can redeem yourself a little. Go and
track those humans. I want the leader brought back to me “Wait a minute.” Now Buffy was getting angry. “I don’t take orders from
you. This is my town, and you don’t have any right to be torturing anyone
for...”
“Don’t “Fine, but I’m not going to be any part of...” Buffy, not thinking just
continued to argue, until Giles interrupted her. He had walked over to
look down at the almost comatose Spike. He was a pitiful sight. They had
wrapped him in frozen bed sheets to keep his body temperature down. The
slim vampire resembled a mummy, except for his rapidly moving chest, as
his body gasped for unneeded air.
“Buffy, you need to find those three men. It’s very possible by finding
them, you’ll also find this new master and his lair. Since we don’t know
who this new master is, I agree that you should accompany Djoser. The two
of you can watch each other’s backs. And in the meantime I‘ll call Willow,
and see if she can come over and try to hack into the Council’s computer
files. See if she can help Wesley and myself come up with anything on this
poison.” Giles told this to Buffy in a soft voice, but underneath there
was steel. He had made up his mind. He would help. He couldn’t not help,
especially after seeing Spike in this condition. To him, Spike was no longer
some faceless demon vampire. They had lived together for a period, and
granted there had been times when Spike had aggravated him, aggravated
him so much that he had wanted to beat his head in with a club. But there
had been other moments, moments in time when Giles would see a glimpse
of another side of Spike, a human side, unhappy, vulnerable, and lonely.
“Giles, you can’t be serious.” Buffy was astounded. “You want me to
help find those men and bring them back to “They came here to your house Slayer.” Angel growled at her. “They threatened
your mother, and tried to kill you. Are you saying that you’re just going
to let that go?”
Opening her mouth to argue some more, Buffy was forestalled by Joyce.
“They were ~Part: 15~
{What the fuck?} Spike awoke to find himself wrapped up in bed sheets,
with an IV stuck in his hand. {Since when do vampires need IVs?} Tearing
the sheets off his body, he tasted his Sire’s blood in his mouth. “Poof
must have been feeding me again.” He muttered to himself, raising himself
up to sniff the contents of the IV. He could smell his Father’s blood and...and,
he couldn’t figure out what those other smells were. {No matter. The bloody
thing’s annoying me.} Ripping the IV out of his hand, he stood up and was
immediately sorry he did so. Waves of nausea assaulted him, his whole body
felt like it was burning up, and he had this ridiculous urge to breathe!
For one brief moment, Spike considered going back to bed, but that thought
was quickly dismissed as he could hear voices and smell humans downstairs.
Feeling bad or not, he wasn’t going to be left out of anything! Falling
down to his knees, he crawled over to the dresser. {Where the hell are
my clothes?} Digging through the drawers, Spike began tossing clothes all
over the room. (What did those Wankers do with my clothes? And my duster?}The
memory of what had happened at the Slayer’s house began to come back to
him. “The two bloody sods better have remembered to pick-up my duster,
or there’s going to be hell to pay.”
Not finding any of his clothes, Spike began searching for his brother’s
one pair of extra pants. Djoser was a warrior, and warriors traveled light,
not like his poofy Sire who had enough clothes here to dress a small country.
A ridiculous thought occurred to him as he, from a sitting position pulled
on Djoser’s pants. They’d all go to New York, be betrayed by the Master,
and be taken hostage. They’d go down without a fight, because they’d all
be too loaded down with his Sire’s luggage. With that grimly humorous thought
in mind, Spike began searching through Angel’s shirts. Something long to
cover up the fact that Djoser’s pants were a size or two too big, and something
expensive, so that he could make sure he ruined it in some way. Feeling
as bad as he did, he needed some kind of compensation!
Now the million dollar question, could he make it downstairs without
having to crawl? Standing up slowly, he again felt the nausea rise, but
by taking a couple of deep breaths he felt the nausea subside a little.
{How bizarre! But hey if it works...} With slow, cautious steps he began
to make his way downstairs.
**
“And no one knew anything about a new master here in Sunnydale?” Giles
began to feel a headache coming on. They had been up now for 36 hours straight,
trying to find an antidote for Spike. Willow had been successful in hacking
into the Council’s computer files, and they had the extra bonus of unexpected
help from the Tremere Clan in New York. Consequently, they had come up
with...not an antidote, but some kind of concoction that they hoped would
at least help pull Spike out of his coma.
Buffy, after two night of intense reconnaissance, surprisingly didn‘t
feel tired at all. “Well, I beat up Willy yesterday, and like I told you,
the only thing he could come up with was that there’s some kind of movement
among younger vampires. They’re revolting against their elders, against
their old laws and customs. One of those vamps that we tangled with the
other night made a comment about the ‘old ways meaning nothing to them’,
so that fits. But no, Djoser and I combed through all of Sunnydale, and
we saw no trace of any new lairs, or any new vamps with the same hairdresser.”
“Nothing at all?” Wesley looked up from Willow’s laptop. He already
knew the answer, but another failure would mean that Angel would probably
lose it again. After Buffy and Djoser had come back two nights ago, empty
handed, Angel had taken out his anger and frustration out on Djoser. Seeing
Djoser after Angel had gotten done with him had been a ghastly sight, and
was a strong reminder that Angel was not the same Angel he had worked with
for the last year.
Seeing Buffy shake her head, Wesley sighed. “I don’t suppose that Angel
has been told about this...this latest setback.”
“I think Djoser telling him now, although I offered to hide him out
for awhile, at least until his...his other injuries have healed, but you
have to give him credit for being dutiful.”
“There’s dutiful, and then there’s stupid.” Willow had aroused herself
from a quick catnap.
“Who’s stupid?” Spike came slowly into the room.
“SPIKE! You’re suppose to be in bed! And...and you took the cold sheets
off, and the IV! You took the IV out too?” So intent on those details,
it completely went over Wesley’s head that their concocted medicine had
worked, and that Spike was awake and walking.
“Better watch yourself Wesley. You’re gonna hurt yourself.” Spike gave
him a half grin, as he made his way slowly over to the couch, sitting down.
“Hey Red, you here too? What the bloody hell is going on? And where’s my
dear old dad?”
“Spike!” Wesley started over toward him with a determined look in his
eye. “Go back to bed now! I’ll come with you and wrap new sheets around
you, and put the IV back in.”
“Touch me, and I’ll pull your arm out and beat your face in with it.”
Rolling her eyes, Buffy gave Spike a small poke, as Wesley left the
room in a huff to look for Angel. “He’s trying to help you, you know.”
“Mind your own business Slayer! Didn’t ask for your opinion, did I?”
“Spike.” Now Giles had a full blown headache. “You’ve been unconscious
for more than a day now. You need to listen to Wesley...”
“I’ve been unconscious for more than a day! Bloody hell! So what’s the
story with the skunk vamps? Who are they, and what were they doing at your
mum’s house?”
“We dusted all of them, except the three humans who were holding my
mother hostage. They got away. Your brother and I searched, but weren’t
able to find any trace of them.”
“My perfect brother couldn’t track three humans? Guess he’s got other
things on his mind.” Spike gave Buffy a nudge with his elbow.
“Huh?”
“Hey Poof Junior.” Wesley, searching for Angel, had run into Djoser
first. “You let three humans get the best of you? Guess your little head
is doing the thinking for ...” Spike’s words died on his lips, as he got
his first good look at his brother. Djoser was covered with lash marks,
face, neck, hands, and Spike, from personal experience, knew that underneath
his brother’s clothing his whole body was one big lash mark. Angelus always
knew how to be thorough.
Outrage and guilt ran through him. His brother did nothing to deserve
such a punishment. But that was their Sire, punished for little or no reason,
and always, the punishment more than exceeded the crime. “What did that
crazy old fuck do to you?”
“William, it’s not what you think.”
“What I think? That our Sire is an insane, sadistic...”
“William, what are you doing up?” Angel entered the room, his voice
gentle and quiet. Djoser, knowing that Spike was always difficult, had
sent a minion to go and get the Master.
“Stay the fuck away from me!” Spike, forgetting himself jumped up and
then almost fell over, as nausea and faintness threatened to overcome him.
Backing up slowly, he put as much distance as he could between himself
and his Sire. He knew his Sire well; his Sire could strike like a rattlesnake,
fangs and all. If bitten, Spike knew that Angel would drain him, thus taking
control of him.
Angel raised both hands up in a mock surrender. “What have I done now?”
“Soddin’ bastard! Looking over at Djoser. "You know what you did!”
Lowering his hands, Angel never took his eyes off of his Childe. “He
disobeyed me. I hold him directly responsible for you almost dying, and
putting his own life at risk. We’re at war here Childe.”
“What, some wannabe master with minions who’ve had bad dye jobs puts
us at war? Like we couldn’t take them with our eyes closed. They just got
lucky putting me down, but that’s partly because of this effin poison in
me.”
“The Watcher’s Council has targeted all Blood-Childer. They’ve marked
them to die. Victor is dead; you’ve been poisoned. If you die, then there’s
only two left, your brother and Iltik. They would then be next.”
Keeping close to the wall, Spike was sidling toward the door. Angel
had come further into the room, so the doorway was now clear. “The older
you get, the more senile you’re getting.” Spike spat disrespectfully at
him. “Until you marked me four days ago, no one knew I was a Blood-Childe.
So much for your ‘ With eyes so intense that Spike could not meet them, Angel answered
him softly. “For more than one hundred years, many have known who and what
you are. It wouldn’t have been hard for the Council to find out about you.”
“The only ones who knew about me were the Childer in your household,
and you swore them all to secrecy, unless of course Penn or Lucien opened
their big gobs...”
“The whole Tremere Clan knew who you were. You were presented in Court
in 1885.”
Giles looked up in interest at that fact. {1885! The year that Angelus
led a revolt against his Sire! The year that he fled to England!}
“I was never presented at Court!” Spike was now shouting, as if sheer
volume would win him the argument. “If I was presented, how come I was
never marked? Blood-Childer are marked at their presentation.”
Angel and Djoser exchanged quick glares. “The Master refused you the
‘Rite of the Bloodlines.’...He condemned you to death instead.”
Although he was burning up with poison, Spike felt his whole body go
cold. That awful dream he sometimes had with the room full of vampires,
the tall man, the blond women, and terrible pain. {But was it a dream,
or a memory?} Truly frightened now, Spike felt tears start to fill his
eyes, but stubbornly, he still tried to deny the truth. “I don’t remember
any of this. This is all just a pack of bloody lies!” Pure fear gave Spike
the adrenaline boost he needed, as he sprinted out of the room, taking
everyone by surprise. So intent was he on escape, that he never noticed
the shadowy figure standing off in a corner.
~Part: 16~
Huddled in a corner in his old room, mind and body hurting, Spike hadn’t
run far. Physically, he knew he was in no condition to go anywhere, and
smartly he realized that it was pointless anyways. Angel would never let
him leave. He had been claimed, marked as a Blood-Childe, and in a weak
moment he had accepted his Sire’s claim.
Blood-Childer were truly bound to their Fathers. Blood-Childer, so cherished
by the Clans, were in some ways prisoners of their own protectors. Safe-guarded
by their Fathers and the Clan, they were charged with the duty of keeping
themselves safe, so that one day they might produce more Blood off-spring.
“And Victor.” Spike whispered to himself. The first time that Spike
had heard that Victor had died by the hands of the Watcher Council, he
had forced himself not to feel anything. After all, the last time he had
seen Victor was more than a century ago. But now hearing that Victor had
been murdered because of his status as a Blood-Childe, Spike couldn’t help
but feel a deep sorrow for the vampire who had been more alive than most
humans. Victor, who had hated being a Blood-Childe, who had spent his whole
vampire existence trying to escape his heritage; he had just wanted his
freedom.
How many times had Victor run off without permission? And how many times
had his Father, Anton place a ’bounty’ on him? By placing a bounty on him,
Anton, in effect, obligated all Clan members to search for his Childe,
until the Childe was safely found and returned. Many times, other Clans
also honored the bounty, so Victor never got very far for very long. Spike
was sure that was the main reason why Angel had marked him. As his Sire’s
Blood-Childe, Angel now had the power of placing a bounty on him if he
tried to leave. Angel was Clanless, but still had a formidable reputation
in the vampire/demon community. There would still be plenty of vampires
and other demons who would honor any bounty Angel issued, whether it be
out of fear or ingratiation.
Dropping his head on his bent knees, Spike felt like his whole body
was consumed in fire. He knew he should go and seek help, but he felt too
emotionally torn up to do so. There was no sounds that announced his Sire’s
coming, but Spike sensed him approaching. He always knew when his Sire
was near; his Sire had such a aura.
“William.”
Looking up, Spike was jolted. Angel stood in the doorway, shirt open,
chest bare. Spike knew what was coming, and tried to steel himself against
the temptation.
“Leave me the hell alone!”
“I can feel your heat all the way over here. You need to eat. You need
my blood.”
“Stay the fuck away from me!”
For once, Spike was surprised to see Angel actually obey. Keeping to
the other side of the room, Angel walked over and picked up a dusty souvenir
mug that Spike, years ago had stolen from a novelty shop. It had caught
his attention, because of what it had said, ‘vampires made good lovers
because they know how to suck.’{Must have been a vampire who thought that
one up.}
Eyeing his Sire suspiciously, Spike wondered what he was up to, as Angel
began to clean the mug off with an end of his shirt.
“Childe, I’m not lying to you. You were presented in Court. I knew that
my Sire would never permit a descendant of the Bloodline to be so...so
unusual as you. That’s why I hid you for so long. That’s why I wanted everyone
to think that you were Drusilla’s Childe, so that the Master would never
find out about you. But somehow he found out anyways.” Angel was now sitting
on the one chair in the room, vein open in the wrist as he bled himself
into the souvenir mug.
“I’m a bloody freak, ain’t I?” Spike was bitter. His mother’s family
had not accepted him, because he was too ‘demon’, and now he knew that
his Father’s family had not accepted him, because he was too ‘ “I made you forget.”
“What do you mean, *made* me forget? Who the fuck do you think you are,
Mr. Spock?” The questions were partly rhetorical, because deep down Spike
knew what Angel meant. He had always suspected that Angel was able to do
some mind manipulation after feeding from him.{That’s just fuckin’ great!
The big Poof has another way of controlling me!}
Angel was silent, sucking on his wrist a minute to close the wound,
as he tried to remember if he had ever met a Mr. Spock.
“So I was condemned to death. What happened? Why am I still here among
the living, or should I say the unliving? I would have thought that you
would have been jumping for joy, finally able to get rid of that weight
around your neck.”
Face impassive, Angel walked over to Spike, handing him the mug. Crouching
down, he looked his Childe in the face. “I fought for you Childe. Never
thought I would escape with both of our lives, but others backed me up.
I didn’t ask them; they just jumped in.”
“Yeah, Batman...or should I say Superman to the rescue. Faster than
a speeding stake.” So afraid, but he NEEDED to know. “Tell me what happened?
I want to know.”
“William, you don’t need to know ...”
“TELL ME!”
**
Germany, 1885
“Angelus, my favorite Childe. You’ve given me another Blood-Childe.
But why have you taken so long to present him to me?.” The Master studied
the young vampire before him.
Angelus hesitated, trying to fight his nervousness and fear. It wouldn’t
do for his Sire to smell it on him. Forcing himself to act nonchalantly,
Angelus answered with a hand wave of dismissal in William’s direction.
“This Childe is a sad disappointment from my first-born. I didn’t want
to waste your time by presenting him.”
The Master eyed his preferred son suspiciously.A Blood-Childe was never **
Pacing nervously, Angelus tried desperately to convince himself that
it was for the best. The Childe was only an embarrassment to the Bloodline.
He had known; he had always known that the Childe’s death was inevitable.
Vampires kill off progeny who are flawed. And he had tried, but in the
end he couldn’t do it. So weak, but now his Sire would put things right;
the Childe would be staked quickly and mercifully. A Blood-Childe, even
a pathetic one, at least deserved that. But still, Angelus couldn’t quite
shake the hollow feeling that was bubbling up inside of him.
“Angelus! I was just told. Are you insane, bringing him here?” Alex
was fuming. She had rushed over after hearing the news.
“The Master ordered our presence. I had no choice.”
“It’s been years! How did he find out after all this time?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Angelus answered casually. “The Master always
did have his spies.” But to himself he wondered, had someone in his household
betrayed him?
“Why didn’t you just kill him when you found out that he was tainted?”
Angelus’ brother Anton had left the great hall, and had silently entered
the vestibule. Younger, smaller and slighter than Angelus, he was still
no less vicious.
“Couldn’t.” Closing his eyes, Angelus remembered the look on his Childe’s
face when he had tried to throw him in the sun. Too beautiful. Too beautiful
to kill.
“Our Sire won’t be pleased that you were so weak.“ Anton was enjoying
his brother’s discomfort. The Master had envisioned his sons being a cohesive
fighting force that would further his interests and power in the vampire
community, but what he got was only rivalry and jealously among his Childer.
“And you, brother?” Angelus whispered to him. “After today, Father will
be concerned that perhaps there’s some taint in our Bloodline. He’ll be
inspecting the second generation Blood-Childer very carefully. Can your
youngest Childe, Victor, hold up to the scrutiny?”
“There’s no humanity in Victor.” Anton hissed back angrily.
“A Childe of the Bloodline who prefers drinking and cavorting with humans
instead of hunting and killing them. He’s as dead as my William.” Angelus
looked up to see the object of their conversation come through the great
hall doors.
“Victor! You were not given permission to leave!” {This Childe is going
to be the death of me. Couldn’t even obey a simple command.}Anton glared
irritably at his youngest Childe.
“I ain’t stayin' in there. They’re gonna torture the poor bloke before
they kill ‘im.”
“You‘re mistaken! A Blood-Childe is NEVER tortured!” Angelus turned
furiously to his brother’s Childe.
With a simple shrug of his shoulders, Victor was not intimidated. “Don’t
know mate, but they called in the big guy wiv the black 'ood. They‘ve got
‘im chained up and are lashin’ ‘im.”
Outrage began to flood his whole body, as Angelus started toward the
great hall. When the screaming started, he broke into a run, not noticing
Djoser standing off to the side. Djoser’s warrior sense had told him to
expect trouble, so he had unobtrusively gone and fetched Ramose. The two
were readied, ready to backup their Sire.
Rage brought out Angelus’ demon, as he threw the doors of the great
hall open. And there before his eyes was a sight that would forever be
stamped in his memory. HIS CHILDE, naked, arms hanging from manacles, and
legs, spread wide, manacled at the ankles. A long wooden stake driven up
through the rectum, its point working its way up through the bowels. Angelus
could
hear his Childe’s screams, and smell the fear, as the executioner was slowly
driving the stake upwards. The stake would travel through the bowels, the
intestines, and eventually through the heart.
A running leap took him across the room. So unexpected was his attack
that it was a simple task to grab the hooded vampire from behind, snap
his neck while throwing him to the floor. Pulling the stake out of his
Childe, Angelus put it to good use, as he shoved it through the ‘executioner’
turning him into dust. All present were taken by surprise, including the
Master and his consort, Darla. No one had ever expected defiance from the
favorite Childe. Their surprise gave Angelus the time he needed to free
his son. Gave Djoser and Ramose time to position themselves in front of
their Sire, giving him a protective barrier. Gave Alex time to prepare
herself; she had never gotten along well with her ‘in-laws’ anyways. Gave
Anton time to make a decision; he wasn’t going to chance the same thing
happening to his Victor.
By the time the Master recovered from his disbelief and gave the order
to kill the insurrectionists, it was too late for him. Alex, knowing that
their only chance of survival was by taking the Master down, had focused
her entire attention on him. Channeling the majik inside of her, she directed
it toward the Master. And he, unprepared, because of his arrogance, could
do nothing to stop it.
Alex’s strategy worked. With the Master knocked out of the action, confusion
reigned supreme, and the mutinous group was able to escape.
More than a century later, from a rare journal, Giles would read how
the rebellion was the Tremere Clan’s downfall. It was never the same after
the uprising. Splintered into warring factions, it fell from being one
of the ruling Clans to a weak shadow of its former self.
**
Memories were flashing painfully inside of Spike’s head like matches
being lit. They would flare for a moment and then extinguish themselves.
Head throbbing, Spike could only speak in a whisper. “You were then ostracized.
You lost your status, your position with the Clan.” {And it’s all my fucking
fault! I‘m a bloody curse!}
“I was angry, yes. I had been the favorite Childe, the Master’s heir,
and losing that position was, for a time, very hard. But I’ve gotten over
it.”
{Have you?} Despair, depression and guilt completely overwhelmed Spike.
{The two Watchers saved me from the bullet with some kind of medicine mixture.
Wonder if their miracle medicine can bring me back after I smash my head
in?} Dropping the mug in his hand, Spike moved to begin smashing his head
against the wall, but Angel, alert to this very possibility, reached for
him quickly, wrapping arms and legs around him.
Struggling to free himself, Spike soon found himself face down on the
floor with his Sire on top of him. Tears wetting the floor beneath him,
Spike then tried to bang his head on the floor, anything to stop the pain!
Using his body to hold Spike down, Angel managed to entwine fingers
in short hair, preventing any movement. “Will, none of this is your fault.”
“BLOODY LIAR! You’ve blamed me from the beginning; you’ve never stopped
blaming me.”
Freeing one hand from Spike’s hair, Angel ripped the shirt off his Childe’s
back, exposing pale skin. Covering his son’s body with his, he pressed
a bare chest against a bare back, skin on skin. Gently biting into the
back of his Childe’s neck, he drank ever so lightly. He didn’t want to
risk weakening William anymore. “Perhaps you’re right. I have blamed you,
but I’m going to make it up to you, my beautiful Childe. I’m going to make
sure you get your due.”
With his Sire’s cool body pressed against his back, Spike felt himself
grow lethargic. “Don’t want your bleedin’ pity. Don’t need you. Don‘t want
yo...” Eyes heavy, Spike felt himself falling, falling into a deep sleep.
When he would awake again, he would be too mistrustful of his Sire to tell
him of the one image that had stayed clear in his memory. The one image
that hadn’t dimmed and faded away. The beautiful blond woman, eyeing him
with hate. Turning to the tall man, she made her request, as she ran her
hand down his arm seductively. “Torture him. Impale him. Do it for me.”
~Part: 17~
“Angel, I need to talk to you! May I come in?” Wesley tapped lightly
on the bedroom door.
“Come.”
“I’ve got a new and improved version of...” Holding an IV bag in one
hand, Wesley came through the door, and the sight that greeted him made
him turn red. Spinning around, so he faced the door, back to Angel, Wesley
managed to stammer out the rest of his message. “Il...Iltik e-mailed us
with another...another formula to try. This...might help bring Spike around
even faster.”
“Wesley, why are you standing with your back to me?”
“I...I...I...” Wesley wasn’t sure, except the sight on the bed, although
innocent, was strangely, very erotic to him. Spike, wrapped in frozen sheets
again, fast asleep, was laying on top of Angel, head resting on Angel’s
chest, Angel’s arms around him.
“Wesley, he’s still asleep. Do what you need to do.”
“Yes...yes of course.” Still beet red, Wesley moved to the other side
of the bed. All thumbs, Wesley kept dropping the IV bag, as he tried to
change it.
Watching him, Angel realized that the sight of him and his Childe in
bed was what was causing Wesley such embarrassment. But he was reluctant
to get up, as his Childe’s body felt so good pressed up against him.
So good that it was giving Angel a raging hard-on. Sighing, he knew he
should get some relief somewhere. And it wasn’t like he didn’t have a variety
of options with three other Childer, Djoser, Ramose, and now Lucien, not
to mention a houseful of minions, both male and female. But oddly enough,
Angel had no desire for any of them. Sexually he only wanted William.
This monogamous urge was a little disconcerting to Angel. It was unnatural
for vampires, except of course vampires with a soul. {Had Alex made a mistake?}
At times it sure felt like he still had residual pieces of that cursed
soul clinging to him.
Carefully, he slid out from under his son, not caring that he was naked
or that he was rock hard.
“Also I wanted to inform you that Buffy’s moth...” Looking up and seeing
Angel standing on the other side of the bed, naked and sexually aroused,
made Wesley turn redder still as he now dropped the old IV bag. Bending
down to pick it up, he wondered if he could just stay bent down, staring
at the floor.
Pulling on a pair of pants, Angel eyed Wesley thoughtfully. {I really
must have Wesley one day. Perhaps after I’ve had William again, I’ll feel
like someone else. And Wesley would be perfect. Make him mine, because
he certainly is useful.} “Buffy’s mother?”
“Ah-h, ye-s...” Wesley dared to raise his eyes and was relieved when
he saw that Angel was now, at least covered from the waist down. “They
showed her a photograph of the dead man’s face, and she confirmed what
Djoser and Buffy thought. The dead man that your...your Childe, Lucien
killed was “Wesley, the number of William’s enemies is an infinite number. In the
last century, he and Dru managed to antagonize almost anyone they came
in contact with.”
“Really? Well...it’s a wonder he’s managed to survive all this time.”
Arms folded across his chest, Angel let out a short laugh. “He survived
partly due to Drusilla’s psychic ability. She usually could keep
them a half of step ahead of their many enemies. But he survived mainly,
because he had a couple of guardian demons watching over him. He certainly
didn’t survive, because I was there for him.”
Wesley gave Angel a puzzled look.
“I’ve been a worthless hypocrite of a Father. I’ve spent countless years
trying to redeem myself by helping others and fighting evil, but never
once did I think of helping my own vulnerable Childe. Walking over
to a chair to sit down, Angel would not make eye contact with Wesley.
{He’s ashamed!}Wesley was stunned.
“Recently, an old friend {or was Alex an enemy?}, took great pleasure
in taking me to task for sitting around and feeling sorry for myself, and
not taking care of my responsibility.”
“I see.” Actually Wesley didn’t see at all, but wasn’t sure if he really
wanted to. “Well, I guess that’s another dead end. ...Now, do I understand
correctly that Lucien is going to show Buffy and Djoser where he had found
and killed...the enemy?”
At Angel’s affirmative nod, Wesley blurted out what had been bothering
him all this time. “The dead man had no identification on his person. Like
someone or ones had made sure they took it off of him before he was brought
to us.”
~Part: 18~
“There were three men. Did you see the other two?” Buffy looked over
the newest addition to Angelus’ household, the vampire Lucien, with distrust.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that all he was doing was leading them on
a wild goose chase.
“They ran off when I killed their friend.”
“Uh huh.” Skepticism was written all over Buffy’s face. If the three
men were vampire hunters and well-armed like Djoser had noted, then they
wouldn’t have run from ONE vampire. Looking over at Djoser she waited for
him to challenge the other vampire, but he remained strangely silent.
“And you didn’t follow them?”
Anger passed over Lucien’s face. “Listen Slayer, I don’t have to answer
to you." Turning to Djoser. "How is it possible that we’re working with...a
Slayer and...humans.”
“Sire’s orders.” Djoser answered abruptly, turning away to look the
area over some more.
Eyeing Djoser uncertainly, Buffy was debating with herself. She really
wanted to start smashing in this lying vampire’s pretty face. She probably
could have him crying mama in a few minutes. See what he was hiding, but
she wasn’t sure about Djoser. He might not take too kindly to her beating
up his...his younger brother? Lucien did not carry the mark of a Blood-Childe,
but he still was considered a Childe of Angelus. So was he like an adopted
brother? Buffy decided she really would have to ask Giles to clarify the
whole issue.
Slayer and vampire studied each other with dislike. “Can you pick up
any scent?” Buffy turned again to Djoser, but he was remote and distant,
making Buffy wonder what had happened. This was the third night they spent
together trying to track down the enemy, and even though she wouldn’t exactly
call them ‘ “There’s nothing more here.” Djoser pronounced as he started to walk
away. Buffy looked at him in surprise{he’s giving up so easily?}, while
Lucien looked at him in relief. {Stupid Slayer, we’ll have to take care
of her too.}
**
Sitting on the front step, smoking a fag, Spike felt like someone had
just drove the last nail in his coffin. His idiot Sire was sending his
brother Djoser to New York. That meddlesome old bitch, Alex had called,
and when she had heard that Angel wasn’t planning to come to New York with
his family, she had insisted that at least Angel send Djoser to them. The
Clan would protect him; he was too special not to protect. Since Victor
had died, they had had Iltik under protective custody. They could take
no risks with the remaining Blood-Childer.
Spike didn’t want Djoser in New York. Djoser needed to stay here with
his Father, with his family. A bunch of strangers in New York wouldn’t
defend him if push came to shove. But did his stupid Sire see that? No!
Asinine Poof! When that twit Alex desouled his Sire, she must have also
debrained him as well. No that wasn’t right. When his Sire had lost his
soul to the Slayer, he had been pretty brainless then too. Must be that
the soul held the brain up in his head. Without it, his brain just fell
into his feet.
And now, to make matters worse, Spike had to content with the return
of that prancin’ nancyboy Lucien. And again, his dim-witted Sire, couldn’t
see the real Lucien. Angel had been all over him, welcoming him back like
the prodigal son, because the Suck Up had brought back a gift for his Sire.
One of the three men who had attacked them. Brought him back dead though,
which was certainly convenient. Dead men tell no tales.
The whole thing just didn’t add up. Lucien claimed that he had come
to Sunnydale, because he had heard that the real Angelus was back. Back
as the new Master in Sunnydale. So where the hell was he a few years ago?
The whole ‘sending the world to hell’ bit would have been right up his
alley. Arriving here in Sunnydale, he just And his Sire? Didn’t blink an eye at Lucien’s load of bull. But Djoser.
Spike was sure that he saw a twitch in Djoser’s face while listening to
Lucien’s fairy tale, although it was always a little hard to tell with
old stone-face. But in the past, Spike knew that Djoser, too had been a
target of Lucien’s jealously, his resentment of Djoser’s status as Blood-Childe.
Djoser was Spike’s one hope, but now his one hope was being sent away.
Spike never felt more vulnerable. Couldn’t trust anyone in this friggin’
household.
“William! Why are you out here? Go back inside. You’re suppose to be
resting.” Coming out the front door, pretending concern, Lucien walked
over to the seated Spike, just as Xander, Anya, and Buffy came strolling
up.
“Yeah, is your name Angelus? He’s the only one I have to answer to.”
Spike threw him a contemptuous look. “Now, sod off, and don’t come
near me again, you bloody bugger.” As a Blood-Childe, Spike now outranked
Lucien, and had the right to give him orders. A look of pure hate appeared
briefly in Lucien’s eyes giving Spike a moment of satisfaction.{I’m not
wrong about that bleedin’ nonce.}
“You know.” The three humans watched the vampire go back into the house.
“It’s nice to know that vampire families are just as dysfunctional as human
families.” Xander gave Spike a wicked grin, while turning to studying Djoser
who, with Ramose was standing over by Angel’s car. “Spike, I’ve been meaning
to ask you. I see ‘King Tut’s resemblance to your old man, but you...did
Angel, like go out and adopt you?”
Spike had no flippant comeback for Xander, since he had often wondered
the same thing. So different from his Sire and his brother. Maybe his Sire
had confused his women. But no, looking back, Spike as a human child could
remember seeing a funny mark on his mother’s neck. Back then he hadn’t
known what it was, but now he knew. His Sire’s mark.
“You coming too, Spike?” The three humans had been recruited to drive
Djoser to LAX. Buffy was going to make sure he got on the plane safely,
Xander to drive, and Anya, because she went wherever Xander went.
“Nah, I’m not allowed out of the house.” Casually said, Spike hid his
real feelings from the trio. Djoser *should* be escorted by his Sire, but
Angel, determining that Spike was too ill for the drive to L.A., made the
decision that someone else had to take Djoser, because he wasn’t about
to leave Spike on his own.
“What! Don’t tell me you’re grounded? A big, bad vampire,
grounded!” Xander cracked up with laughter.
Growling at Xander, Spike shifted his position, as if he were getting
ready to lung at the teenager. He could only hope that, Djoser, after a
two hour drive to L.A. with this clown, would rip the kid’s heart out.
Of course, after two hours with Xander, Djoser might also be driven to
hurl himself on the first stake handy.
“William!” Coming out of the house, Angel was in no mood for disobedience.
“Bugger. That fucker Lucien went and tattled.” Spike muttered to the
three teenagers.
“And what the hell are all of you still doing here? Why haven’t you
left for L.A. yet?” Shirtless and shoeless, Angel still presented a commanding
figure.
Spike noted with interest that when his Sire bellowed, the humans even
did an about-face, including the Slayer.
Walking over to the car, Buffy and Anya argued over who would sit in
front with Xander, while Djoser walked over and knelt before his Sire.
He had been trained well by his mother and her family. ‘ALWAYS respect
and obey your Father.’
{What a Poof!}But still, Spike couldn’t help but watch his brother,
waiting...waiting to see if Djoser would acknowledge him in any way before
he left. Standing up, Djoser turned toward the car. Disappointment flowed
through Spike. {Yeah, Wanker, just walk away and leave. Don’t look back.
Just like you did more than a century ago.}
Half-way to the car, Djoser did turn around, black eyes searching out
his brother. “William, take care of yourself. And listen to our Sire. He
knows what’s best for us.”
~Part: 19~
“Iltik. What a genius you are!” Wesley couldn’t help but exclaim softly
to himself, as he read the e-mail. Wesley was still working on a cure for
Spike, as the medicine they were currently giving to Spike was only repressing
the poison. But what was astounding to Wesley was that the help he was
getting was from a surprising source. A vampire. A vampire, who according
to Angel was a scholar of science and medicine. Wesley had been indoctrinated
well by the Council. Vampires were just savage killers, nothing more. A
year ago Wesley wouldn’t have been able to accept the fact that vampires
were as diverse as humans, but all his experiences in the last year had
certainly reversed this erroneous point of view.
Peering closer at the computer screen, he was startled when an IV plopped
down on the laptop’s keyboard.
“Fell out again Wes.”
“Spike.” Wesley closed his eyes, willing himself to count to ten. “How
many times do I have to go over this with you? You need to keep the IV
in. Why do you insist on pulling it out?”
“Is it curing me?”
“No, but...”
“Then I’m not having that bleedin’ thing stuck in my hand.”
Holding his head in his hands, Wesley tried to reason with the stubborn
vampire. ““I believe that the medicine will keep the poison under control.
You need to keep it running through your system, as well as take care of
yourself.”
“Does that mean I have to keep staying in bed? Because if it does, I'm
gonna die from boredom long before I’ll die from that frickin’ poison.”
Wesley was stymied for a moment. {Didn’t Spike realize the gravity of
his situation?} “Spike, you’ve lived what, close to two centuries? How
can you not understand a simple concept of...”
“Because he’s a moron.” Buffy entered the room, a scowl on her face.
She had been sent here to “Hey, this is a private conversation, so butt out. And who invited you
here anyways?” Spike matched Buffy’s scowl.
“Angel wanted her here. He’s going out with Lucien tonight. Wants to
see the area where Lucien ran into those three men.” Wesley looked longingly
at the computer, didn’t look like he was going to get much work done tonight.
Sly Giles had suggested that since Wesley had worked so closely with Angel
in L.A., then it seemed fitting that he be the one to stay with the vampires
and help take care of Spike. Eager to oblige, Wesley readily agreed, never
realizing what a total pain Spike was.
Spike was shaken by Wesley’s news. Lucien alone with Angel. What lies
was he telling his Sire, and more importantly, what lies was Angel believing.
Snorting in disgust, Buffy threw her backpack on the floor. “Wonder
how Angel’s going to like having his time wasted. All your brother did
the other night was lead us around by our noses.”
“He’s not my BROTHER! And what do you mean, led you around by your noses?”
“Not your brother? He’s a Childe of Angelus and so are you. Doesn’t
that make you brothers?” Buffy saw that referring to Lucien as Spike’s
brother really bothered Spike, so of course she had to press the point
some more with him.
“Call him my brother again, and you’ll find yourself missing a tongue.”
Spike and Buffy began squaring off.
“That’s enough now.” Wesley got up, getting between the two. Sighing,
Wesley couldn’t help but imagine Giles, alone in his apartment, feet up,
doing research with blessed peace and quiet.
“Wesley, tell this Bitch to leave.”
“Gladly! Didn’t want to come here in the first place.” Picking up her
backpack, Buffy had the irresistible urge to stick her tongue out at her
former mortal enemy.
“No. Buffy, Angel was most explicit in his instructions. As long as
he’s not here, you’re to stay here and watch over Spike.”
“Oh, great!” Buffy muttered under her breath, throwing her backpack
down again. “They’re going to start calling me the Vampire Sitter instead
of the Vampire Slayer.”
“What’s wrong Slayer?” Spike was now sitting down on the couch. “Heard
that your lover boy was back. Not giving you any?”
“That’s it! You’re dust!” Buffy began to stomp over to the vampire,
but Wesley grabbed her by the arm, spinning her away from Spike.
“ENOUGH! Both of you!” Pushing Buffy into the chair he just vacated,
Wesley took in a deep breath. “Now, tell us what happened with Lucien the
other night.”
“What happened? Nothing happened. He led us around to a couple of different
spots, pretending to be confused. Then after us running around a while,
he finally ‘found’ the supposed area where he ran into the three men, but
there were no signs of them being there, no signs of a struggle, no signs
of someone being killed there. When I questioned him, he just became evasive.
And what I don’t understand is why Djoser didn’t seem to be concerned that
nothing was adding up right.”
Spike felt a wave of despair wash over him. {Guess the Wanker didn’t
care about me after all.}
“Spike.” Wesley turned to the seated vampire. “What can you tell us
about Lucien?”
“Plenty. But I want Giles to hear what I say.”
“Splendid idea. We’ll call him and have him come right over.” Wesley
grinned to himself. Giles needed to share in his pain. Help him deal with
the constant bickering and insulting that went on with Spike and Buffy.
“No! I won’t discuss Lucien here. Take me to Giles’ house.”
“Spike.” Wesley wondered how a demon such a Angel had the patience to
deal with this most annoying vampire. “You’re not to leave the mansion.
Didn’t you learn anything the last time you left without permission?.”
“It’s not safe here! There are spies everywhere.”
“Gee, Spike, paranoid much?” Buffy shot Spike a wicked grin.
“Spike, how can you think that it’s not safe here? Your Father’s home.
You can’t be more protected here...” Wesley was cut short by Spike, in
a blur of movement to the human eye, threw a vase at a minion who had sidled
in the room.
“Get the fuck out of here! Did I give you permission to come in?”
Ducking quickly, the minion just missed getting beamed in the head with
the vase, before scurrying away.
Spike gave the two humans a look of ‘see what did I tell you.’
“Let’s go.” Buffy didn’t need any more convincing.
“NO!” Wesley couldn’t get the picture of what Djoser had looked like
after being punished by Angel for disobeying him. “We’ll go somewhere private,
where we can’t be overheard...”
“Wesley, this is a house full of vampires who have, you know vampiric
hearing. Where are you going to go where no one is going to hear you?”
Buffy had stood up, backpack in hand again. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure
nothing happens to Spike.”
“Yes, just like you did last Friday.” Sighing with resignation, Wesley
could see that there was nothing he could do or say to dissuade the pair
from going over to Giles’ house. “I’ve got Giles’ car here. We’ll drive
over.” Brushing past the two, he mumbled at them on his way out the door.
“You two better promise me that you’ll pick up all my body pieces and at
least put them together in my coffin.”
**
“Damn!” Wesley swore as he stalled the car out again. He had finally
got the hang of driving on the wrong side of the road with the steering
wheel on the wrong side, but that was driving an automatic car. Giles’
car was a standard transmission, and Wesley hadn’t yet mastered driving
standard right-handed.
“Wesley, why don’t you let me drive? At the rate we’re going here, we
won’t make it there until sunrise.” Spike was sitting up front with Wesley
with Buffy and Ramose sitting in the backseat. Spike hadn’t been sure about
Ramose coming along, but Ramose had insisted. His orders from his Sire
were clear, ‘make sure nothing happens to William’, and Spike, decided
that Ramose *couldn’t* be in collusion with Lucien, because the only two
people that Ramose ever answered to were his Sire and Djoser.
Starting the car up, Wesley snapped at the vampire. “NO! Just sit there
and don’t move.” With visions of his dismembered body strewn all over Sunnydale,
Wesley illogically believed that if Spike just didn’t move, then nothing
would happen to him.
Stalling the engine again, the car lurched forward, causing all the
passengers to jerk forward. “Wesley, my Sire’s going to have a hissy fit,
if you put me through the windshield. Let the Slayer drive. As bad as she
drives, she probably still could do a better job than you’re doing now.”
“Hey blood-breath.” Buffy kicked the back of Spike’s seat. “It wasn’t
me that totaled Giles’ car.”
“That was your boyfriend’s bloody friends’ fault that Giles’ car was
smashed. It wasn’t because of my driving. And stop kicking my seat, stupid
bint!”
“Call me a stupid bint again, and I’ll send you into orbit.” Buffy kicked
the seat again to emphasize her point.
Sighing mightily, Wesley finally got the car out of first gear without
stalling it out. Jerking the car along, he wished that he had a pair of
earplugs, as vampire and Slayer argued nonstop all the way to Giles’ house.
~Part: 20~
“How can you not be sure?” The voice so soft, but it still jarred on
Lucien’s nerves. Lucien could feel the fear rising up in him. His Sire
was not going to buy his amnesic routine like Djoser did. {All I need to
do is distract him for a little while more.}
“Had been drinking Sire, wasn’t paying attention. Ran into those three
humans and...” Lucien trailed off, thrusting his hands in his jeans, so
Angel couldn’t see them shaking. {Hawkins, you better not fuck up!} Pretending
to examine the area intently gave Lucien the excuse not to look at his
Sire who was scrutinizing him with dark, piercing eyes.{Christ, he suspects
something!}
“How can I help jog your memory, Lucien?” Walking over to his Childe,
Angel put strong hands on his shoulders, pushing him down to his knees.
“Sire...” Shaking, Lucien waited for the hands to tighten, to begin
crushing the bones in his shoulders. But to his surprise his Sire removed
his hands and unzipping his pants, he brought out his cock, caressing it
with slow, deliberate strokes.
Lucien, with relief so great, immediately took his Sire into his mouth,
and began sucking gently. {Just give him pleasure...keep him occupied...keep
him from thinking...then maybe I can...}
Angel’s hands moved to his Childe’s head, grabbing it strongly, pushing
his cock deep into Lucien’s mouth, pushing it against the tight ring of
gagging membranes. Lucien began choking, his throat muscles trying to eject
the invading organ, but Angel held fast as Lucien tried to push himself
away with his hands. Lucien could feel his Sire’s hands, clamped on each
side of his head, and he knew if he should even try to bite down, those
powerful hands would twist his head right off his neck.
Moving his hips, Angel continued the rape of his Childe’s mouth, driving
his demanding, pulsing flesh deeper and harder. Lucien, with the unhappy
knowledge that if he had been human he would have by now died of asphyxiation,
kept trying to relax his throat muscles. The violation went on for some
time, as Angel held back, enjoying the fear he was instilling in his Childe.
Afterwards, Lucien stayed on his knees, afraid to move, waiting, waiting
for pain and death.
“Childe.” His Sire’s voice just a whisper. “I’m going back to check
on William. You’re to come back **
Arriving at Giles’, Spike was the first out of the car, followed quickly
by Buffy, leaving Wesley to try and find a polite way of asking Ramose
to stay outside and stand guard.
“Rupert, look alive, we want to talk to you.” Not bothering to knock,
Spike just let himself in the front door.
Giles, looking up from the book he was reading, couldn’t hide his dismay.
“Spike...Buffy...what...what...where’s Angel?”
“Running around Sunnydale with that Wanker, Lucien.” Spike frowned at
the ex-Watcher. {Not here but a minute, and he’s got to know where my Poof
of a Sire is.}
“Spike.” Giles studied the vampire. Thinner, face gaunt, Spike had a
fragile look to him. The poison and worry had taken on toll on him. “Did
Angel give you permission to come here without him?”
“Not you too.” Spike rolled his eyes with contempt. “What the hell is
matter with you humans? You Chaps don’t have to answer to the Lord and
Master. Why so concerned about what he wants or doesn’t want?”
“Perhaps because we value our lives and limbs.” Wesley came through
the door, closing it carefully. “Your Sire was...is one of the most vicious
creatures ever to exist. So vicious that even later as a loner vampire
with a soul, no demon dared to try and challenge him. He allied himself
with a Slayer, and has for more than four years now waged war against the
demon world, and still the demons are too afraid to ...”
“Planning to start a fan club soon, are you Wes?” Spike interrupted
Angel’s ex-employee. It was galling to hear how feared his Father was.
“Alright Spike, alright.” Giles grabbed his glass off the coffee table.
{Another drink wouldn’t hurt right now.} “What did you want to talk to
me about? You could have called, and I would have come over.” {Or better
yet, I could have just talked to you on the phone.}
“Spike thinks that his brother has minions spying on him.” Buffy added
helpfully, smiling sweetly at Spike.
“Djoser?” Giles looked up from pouring himself another drink.
“No she means Lucien. Djoser left for New York yesterday.” Wesley had
followed Giles to the scotch bottle. He made no secret as to what he wanted,
grabbing a glass and motioning to Giles to fill it up.
“Djoser left for New York?” Giles didn’t like the sound of that.
“Didn’t Xander tell you?” A wave of guilt washed over Buffy.{Was I the
one who was supposed to have told Giles?}
“Spike, why on earth would Angel send Djoser to New York at a time like
this?” Giles was baffled. {A new Master and his minions, an unknown threat,
and Angel sends his powerful vampire son to New York?}
Spike opened his mouth to tell Giles it was because Angel didn’t have
one functioning brain cell in his head, but Wesley was too fast for him.
“Djoser was developing an interest in Buffy here, and Angel, opposed to
such a relationship, decided it best that Djoser be sent away.”
“WHAT!” Buffy and Giles spoke simultaneously, while Spike expressed
his disgust. “That’s my idiot Sire. Do as I say, not as I do.”
“Giles...I never...there was never anything...” Buffy made her protests
to Giles, not liking the look he was giving her.
“Of course, we know that nothing happened.” Wesley quickly set the record
straight. “But Djoser did confess that, that’s why he allowed Spike to
talk him into leaving the mansion last Friday. He..."Turning to Buffy.
"... wanted to see you again.”
Buffy was flabbergasted. Last Friday night, all Djoser had done was
threaten and intimidate her.
Spike, reading her face, did have to comment. “Really knows how to sweep
a girl off her feet, doesn’t he.”
Any further discussion was halted as Xander came crashing through the
door. “Skunk vamps. Skunk vamps. By the Bronze. Attacked some people there.”
“How many?” Buffy stood up, slayer mode kicking in.
“How many? Don’t know. Didn’t stick around to count them. There was
a group of them though.”
“If people are in danger, I need to go. Giles, you and Wesley can guard
Spike. Ramose is here too. I guess it would be pretty hard for anyone or
anything to get past him.”
“Ramose? He’s here too?” Xander looked around. “Where? Is he in the
bathroom? I didn’t think vampires needed to use the bathroom.”
“He’s outside guarding the door. You must have passed him.” Wesley,
feeling his heart sink, was almost afraid to open the door and look out.
“I didn’t see him outside.” Everyone in the room moved to the door,
looking outside for the vampire.
Spike, sniffing the air, could only detect the fading scent of Ramose.{Damn!
That Wanker couldn’t be trusted either.}
“Buffy, I really don’t think you should leave now.” Wesley looked over
at Giles for support.
“Wesley, I’m sorry, but I can’t let more innocent humans die, just to
protect...protect this vampire.” Buffy looked over at Spike who was standing
dejectedly outside of Giles’ door, trying desperately to keep his face
impassive.
“Spike. Come inside.” Wesley held the door for obviously upset vampire.
“Perhaps I can go and see if I can find Angel while you tell Giles what
you know about Lucien.”
“Do what you want. I really don’t give a fuck.” Face stoic, Spike walked
over to Giles’ television, and began to dig it out from under a pile of
books. If Ramose was betraying him, it was on Djoser’s orders. Perhaps
the two of them decided to throw their lot in with Lucien for whatever
reason or reasons. {Fuckin’ Djoser! Don’t bloody care about him either,
or his Siamese twin.}
“Spike, what are you doing?” Giles watched as the vampire tossed all
his precious books around.
“My still-living-in-the-19th-century Poof of a Sire doesn’t believe
in tellys, so as long as I’m here, I’m gonna watch some telly.”
“Spike, didn’t you want to tell Giles about Lucien?” Wesley exchanged
looks with the other three people in the room, exasperation written all
over his face.
“Changed my mind.” Spike was heartsick, and the last thing he wanted
to do now was talk to a couple of boring ex-Watchers. “Xander, could you
move? You’re blocking my view.”
“You know, Wesley.” Xander moved to follow Buffy out the door. “You
should tell Angel that you need a raise for taking care of Spike, because
I’m sure that what he’s paying you is not NEARLY enough.”
**
Spitting on the ground, trying to get his Sire’s taste out of his mouth,
Lucien was headed for the prearranged rendezvous point. {Fuckin’ Hawkins
better have done his part! If he doesn’t have William, then fuck it, I’m
outta here!}
The gods had given him a reprieve. Why his Sire had just let him go,
he didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to tempt fate anymore. He had done
his part; he had gotten Angel out of the house and away from William. If
those two stupid humans, backed-up by a group of fairly well-trained minions,
couldn’t take William with both his Sire and Djoser gone, then the Master
better come up with a whole other plan. But he was getting the hell out
of Sunnydale. That last display of power was no accident. His Sire suspected
something, and it had been a warning.
Lucien’s new Master, a mysterious vampire with no past, who called himself
Elder Snow, had sent Lucien to Sunnydale to bring back the youngest Blood-Childe
of Angelus. Lucien had his orders, ‘bring him back alive.’ Snow had plans
for William. Plans of torture and a slow agonizing death. Plans that had
been put on hold, because Angelus had gotten to William before the Initiative
could send William to Elder Snow.
Reaching his destination, Lucien was reassured to see Hawkin’s car there.
Standing outside the car was Hawkin’s human underling, but, no Hawkins
and no William!
“Where’s Hawkins?” Lucien snarled at the man, wondering how angry his
Master would be if he just “Got called away. But don’t worry, I’ve got everything under control.”
“Under control? Where’s my dear little “Had a little problem, but she’s been taken care of now.”
“She?”
“The Slayer. Your Sire had the Slayer there protecting the Target, but
I sent some of the boys over to that club to make a ruckus. She’ll take
the bait. Just waiting to hear when she does.” The burly human tapped his
cell phone.
Lucien sighed at the mortal’s stupidity. “If the boys are at the club
fighting the Slayer, how do you expect to take William?”
“Still got a few with me.” Three minions were seated in the backseat
of the car.
“Three’s not enough to take William. Did you forget that Ramose is there
too? And now my Sire is headed back to the mansion. We’ve got to abort
and get the hell out of here.”
“Lucien. Lucien. Lucien. You worry too much.” The man slapped Lucien
on the back, causing Lucien to growl. “Your brother’s not too bright. He
left the mansion, and is now at that ex-Watcher’s house. That minion, you
were able to ‘bring around’ to our way of thinking, followed him. He’s
keeping me posted.”
“And Ramose? Do you really think that three minions can take him...”
Lucien was cut-off by the mortal’s cell phone ringing.
“Stay put. We’ll be there in a few minutes.” Snapping the cell phone
shut, the man gave Lucien a big grin. “We just hit the jackpot, vampire.
Ramose’s left, and the Slayer is now leaving too. Taking your brother will
be like taking candy from a baby.”