Dedication: Thank you to my beta readers, Red and Donna. And to Kirsty for all her help and inspiration.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Author's Note: This first scene should have been written a few chapters back, so it's a little out of time sequence. I originally thought that I would just have Darla show up at the Hyperion without any foreshadowing of her arrival. But then I saw a rerun of Angel with the Shaman scene, and I realized that I should include it. Unfortunately, it does make this part read a little awkward at the beginning.
~Part: 41~
Honduras, The Yoro Mountains,
"Senor, I have the symptoms, but I came to you to for confirmation." Entering the Shaman's abode, Darla shook the rainwater out of her hair. "I would have preferred to go to one of my people's healers, but with the Council's recent purge of our kind, they are few and far between. I've been told you're very powerful, very wise."
Standing up, the Shaman studied the vampiress. "You're with child, aren't you?"
"That's my thought." Rubbing her stomach, which was just barely starting to show, Darla's expression was that of a cat who just swallowed a canary. "That's my dream."
"And the father is also a vampire?"
"That's right. I'm already a legend among my people. The only vampiress to have bore three Pure Blood-Childer. And now I hope to make it four." Darla smiled slyly at the human. "But I need confirmation, before I go and retake my rightful place as Queen."
The Shaman picked up a knife and a cup. "I will need some blood."
Grabbing the knife, Darla sliced her hand, letting the blood drip into the cup. "Tell me what I want to hear, and I'll let you live, Senor. And then I'll be on my way to break the news to my prince's Daddy."
**
When his Sire left the room with his demon visitor, Djoser gave up any pretense of sleeping. Sliding out of the bed cautiously, he was careful not to wake his brother. Pacing the floor in the darkened room, his emotions were a jumbled mass.
Once again his Father had him torn and twisted. The dark vampire had overheard the conversation between Angel and Lorne and had felt his Sire's concern for his brother. "But what does that mean, really?" He asked himself softly. "HE always did have a superficial concern for us. We're toys to him. To be owned and played with when he's in the mood, but then discarded when he becomes bored or when something or someone more interesting comes along."
Turning to look at a sleeping Spike, Djoser couldn't shake the feeling that something big was about to happen. Something bad. And of course his Sire couldn't be counted on, so it was his responsibility again to protect his younger brother. Resuming his pacing, the vampire began to make his plans.
**
"So how soon will you be able to locate a demon healer?" Angel asked as he walked Lorne down to the hotel lobby.
"Here in LA?" The Anagogic demon couldn't help but give the vampire a 'you've got to be kidding' look.' "There are probably a couple pages of them listed in the phone book. But I'll ask around and find out who's competent and who's not."
"So perhaps by tomorrow we could have William looked at. . . ." Angel broke off at the sight of Nic and Wesley entering the Hyperion. "Where the hell have you been?" He directed this at Nic while staring at Wesley. His co-worker was extremely pale, and the vampire could smell the scent of spent sex.
Two fang marks, already bruised and discolored, on Wesley's neck confirmed his suspicions. "HOW DARE YOU!" A punch that struck so fast, even Nic was taken by surprise as his head was thrown back by the blow.
"ANGEL!" Wesley moved to intervene but was quickly seized by Lorne.
"Wes, you don't want to get involved in a family spat. Especially with this family."
"Too late, Lorne." Pushing the demon's hands off of him, Wesley again moved to aid Nic. "I'm already involved."
Wesley grabbed Angel by the arm at the same time Djoser, who had come downstairs after hearing the voices and sensing trouble, took a hold of Nic.
"This human is valuable to me, and you dared. . .dared to touch him. You would only risk this. . . ." Angel sniffed the air around his younger brother. Despite being cleaned up, Nic was still wearing the same clothes when he had started his binge. Even Wesley could smell the odors of alcohol and cigarette smoke. "Because you've been drinking. You haven't changed one iota. You're still a no-good drunk."
"ANGEL! The minion must have come and reported to you that I had found Nic. We're both fine, and that's what's important here." Face-to-face with the vampire, Wesley was trying to keep his body between the two brothers.
"You're fine, Wesley? I can see how fine you are." Eyes filled with rage, Angel gave the ex-Watcher the once over. "I never thought you'd be one to whore around."
"Oh that's rich. The fucking pot calling the kettle black." Still angry with Angel for not being around when the Ventrues attacked, Nic was spoiling for a fight. "You always were good at pointing out everyone else's flaws. Easier than looking at yourself and seeing your own fucking faults."
Growling, Angel broke Wesley's grip easily. Lunging, he went for his brother, but was stopped short by Djoser stepping between them.
Turning to his uncle, the warrior vampire addressed him. "I think the best thing you could do for all of us now is leave. Go back to Mexico. Go back to those Caitiff vampires whom you claim as yours."
Nic flinched at Djoser's words. He knew he had let both his nephews down when he had not successfully defended them against the Ventrue Master, and Djoser's words confirmed that they despised him for his failure. A sick sensation was welling up in his stomach. The same sick sensation he had felt when Heinrich Nest had denounced him. Despite his indifferent attitude, his Sire's poor opinion had hurt him intensely. And now his nephew's contemptuous attitude cut him deeply. Body and face stiff, he threw Wesley a hopeless look before abruptly turning and starting toward the hotel entrance.
"Wait! No! Nic. . . ." Wesley moved to stop him but was prevented in doing so by Angel.
"My Sire was right. He's a waste. He'll never amount to anything. He does us no good, and you'd be better off not getting involved with him." Jealously and anger had clouded Angel's memory. How fast he had forgotten how Nic had fought at his side and saved William's life both from Webster and Snow.
All the commotion had awakened Spike, who had managed to stumble and then crawl his way out onto the second floor mezzanine. Opening his mouth, he had started to yell down to Angel to stop being such a nonce, but the sight of Nic turning and leaving the hotel made the words dry up in his throat. A deep sorrow filled him as he watched another person walk out of his life.
**
Nic had walked two blocks away from the Hyperion before he realized he had left a car back at the hotel. Sighing, he turned around to see Djoser following him a few yards back. "If you're here to tell me what a rotten fuck-up I am, save your breath. I don't want to. . . ."
"Uncle." Walking up to Nic, Djoser addressed him with a voice filled with respect. The warrior vampire had never spoken to his uncle in such a deferential way. "I'm not here to disrespect you but to thank you. In the three months you've been with us, you've cared for William and myself with more sincerity than my Sire ever has."
"So why did you tell me to leave?" Confusion was written all over Nic's face. He wasn't understanding his nephew at all. First contempt and now deference.
Djoser put a hand on his uncle's shoulder. "You should go back and see your mistress and friends again. Check on your businesses. After all, they've been your foster family for what? One hundred years. . . ."
"Close to one hundred fifty years now." Nic interrupted, eyeing his nephew's hand on his shoulder. "And what about you and William?"
"For the moment my Sire is trying hard to be a good Father. He's checking into a demon healer for William. We're fine for *now*."
"For now?" Nic caught his nephew's emphasis on the word.
Taking his hand off his uncle's shoulder, Djoser stood ramrod straight. "My Sire has a knack for. . .disappearing. Whether it be because of gypsies, a hell dimension portal, or a woman. He'll abandon us again. I'm sure of that. And when he does, I'll need a place to take William. Can I count on you?"
"Djoser." Nic was stunned. He knew that his nephew was a strong, independent individual who was not prone to asking for help from anyone. "I was named your Sponsor, and I don't give a fuck if Angelus retracts that. As far as I'm concerned and as far as you and William are concerned, I am and always will be your uncle, your family, your Sponsor. I'll be in Mexico. You know where. If you or William need *anything*, anything at all, I want you to come to me right away."
Taking Nic's hand, Djoser brought it up to his lips. "We will be seeing each other again, uncle. . .and soon."
**
Sitting once more in front of the TV, Spike was watching Cops again. Despite the television sound, he could still hear Angel and Wesley arguing downstairs. Sorrow at his uncle leaving ran through him, causing anger, his usual defense against emotions he could not handle, to well up. "If those two aren't a couple of bloody wankers. Telling Nic to leave and that he's no good." He muttered to himself, head turning as he heard his brother enter the room. "Oh, if it isn't the bleeding-thinks-he's-perfect-snake-in-the-grass. Motherfucker! Why did you tell our uncle to leave? He's been nothing but good to us."
"William." Kneeling down in front of Spike, Djoser grabbed his brother's hand, stopping the tirade. "Nic doesn't need to stay here and suffer our Sire's ingratitude. Besides, he's had his own 'family' and life now for one hundred and fifty years. He's needs to go back and check on things."
"WE'RE HIS FAMILY! Stupid nob! He was named our Sponsor, so his place is with us."
"And he'll be with us. . .soon." Djoser stared at his younger brother, eyes dark and enigmatic.
"What do you mean?" Shifting uncomfortably, Spike was finding Djoser's mysterious act unnerving. "Is he coming back after he checks up on things?"
"No, but he's waiting for us in Mexico."
"Mexico! We're going to Mexico now? What happened to Germany?"
"William." Letting go of Spike's hand, Djoser stood up. "Even if we make it to Germany, how long will we be there? How long before our Sire becomes bored and leaves?"
"Just what are you trying to say?" Pointing the remote control at the TV, Spike hit the mute button. The conversation was beginning to worry him.
"You know our Sire. He's never been one to stick around much. He'll abandon us again and then. . . ." Emotionless and matter-of-fact, Djoser watched his brother take in his words. "We'll have to go somewhere. Nic has promised me we will always be welcomed with him."
"And our Sire has promised me that he won't leave us again. That we're 'home' with him for good this time."
"And you believe his pretty lies? You should know that our Sire is an expert at telling people what they want to hear." Throwing himself down into a chair, Djoser stretched his long legs out in front of him. "Something is going to happen soon, Will. I can feel it. Something bad, and I truly believe that our Father will betray us again."
**
Sitting at his desk the next day, Wesley found he couldn't look at the accusing eyes of his two co-workers.
"Wes, have you lost your mind? What were you thinking?" Sliding down into a chair, leg doubled beneath her, Cordelia could stop staring at the bruised puncture wounds on her friend's neck.
"You know. . . ." The ex-Watcher folded his hands on top of the desk. "I REALLY don't want to talk about this."
"Well, you're going to mister." Cordelia was never one to be put off. "This is SERIOUS. You're a demon hunter, an ex-Watcher, and you let a vampire feed from you. You could have died or been. . .turned. How did you let this happen?"
"Cordy, please!" Burying his head in his hands, Wesley was trying to keep his composure, but last night's events kept running through his head, making him feel physically ill.
"Hey, Wes." Standing, arms folded across his chest, Gunn, like Cordelia didn't understand what his co-worker had done. But unlike Cordy, he was less aggressive in his approach. "You need to tell us what's going on. We're a team, and if one of the team members loses his way, the rest of us need to know, so we can get him back on the path."
"On the path?" Wesley finally raised his head to look at his two friends. "And what path might that be?"
"Well, the. . . ." Gunn was flustered a bit as he searched for an explanation. "The path of ridding the world of demons."
"So ridding the world of demons is our main objective." Wesley stared at Gunn with tired eyes. "So why aren't we killing Angel and his family? Why are we keeping our offices here in a vampire lair? And why aren't we going over to the Caritas and killing Lorne and all of his patrons?"
"Well. . . ." Charles Gunn exchanged a look of 'help me' with Cordelia. "I meant to say, ridding the world of the nasty demons."
"Nasty demons." Wesley smiled humorlessly. "So now it's just the nasty demons. But pray tell, define what a nasty demon is." Thinking back on the ugly scene of the night before, the Englishman wondered who the 'nasty demon' was in that scenario, Angel, Nic, Djoser, Lorne?
"Wes. . . ." Cordelia sat forward in her chair. "Tell us what happened last night? Who bit you? Were you attacked?"
"Actually. . . ." Wesley looked up at the entrance of Angel. "I was not attacked. I was bitten during a particularly pleasant. . . ." He stared angrily at the vampire. "Sexual encounter."
"O-kay." Now Gunn was embarrassed. "You know Cordy. . . ." He turned to Cordelia. "Maybe this isn't any of our business."
"You're right, it's not." Wesley said quietly while continuing to stare at Angel. "It's not anyone's business, except mine and the other person involved."
"Wait a minute." Turning in her chair, now Cordelia stared at Angel. "If the two of you. . . ."
"It wasn't with him." Wesley quickly interrupted her. He wanted to set the record straight that he had in no way been with Angel.
"Wes, I know you're angry with me." Angel had come in to try and make amends with his ex-employee. "Some pretty ugly things were said last night, and I'm sorry I lost control. But I still stand my ground that you *don't* want to be involved with Nic. He was kicked out of our Clan for a good reason."
"NIC!" Cordelia broke in. "You did it with. . . ." Standing up, she reached over to slap Angel on the arm. "Good one. Bring your perverted brother here to corrupt poor Wes."
"Cordy!" Now Wesley stood up. "Nic is *not* perverted, nor did he corrupt me. Now if all of you would get out of my office, I have work to do."
"Wes. . . ." Angel was determined to convince the ex-Watcher. "You can't depend on Nic. He's a drunk who only lives for a good time. Believe me. And you want to know why my Sire ostracized him? He corrupted my nephew. Took him out drinking and showed him the pleasures of cavorting with humans. My nephew was never the same since, and it was my brother's fault. He lives to defile the naive; he gets off on it. And you were the perfect challenge for him."
Holding his head in his hands again, Wesley felt his stomach turn. He knew that Angel's words were motivated by malice against Nic, but they weren't lies. Even so, there was no way he would give the vampire any satisfaction. "You know, Angel, Nic was right. You're very good at passing judgment on other people. But perhaps before you starting throwing stones, you should take a good, hard look at yourself."
"How right you are, human." A new voice entered the conversation. "Angelus shouldn't be the one to cast stones." The four occupants turned to see a smirking Darla standing in the doorway. "Hello, lover." She addressed this to Angel.
"Darla!" A low growl as Angel stared at her. "You've picked a bad time to make an appearance. I only hesitated to kill you before because the Ventrue Master had warned me not to, but now I no longer care what that Ventrue bastard thinks. So if you value your. . . ."
"Congratulations, Childe." The vampiress interjected. "You've inherited your Sire's ability to produce numerous offspring. Rare even in Bloodline vampires. You're the Father of two Blood-Childer, and soon you'll be the Father of three. . .and one will be a Pure Blood." Lifting her shirt, Darla let the room see her slightly bulging stomach. "A Pure Blood vampire. There hasn't been one born for over two hundred years now. But now our Clan will have a new one. He'll replace the two that were murdered. He'll be the Tremeren's hope for the future. He'll be our Bloodline's Rebirth."
****
Author's Note: I finished part 41 last week when I had taken a few days off. I have started the next part, and my intent was to finish it within my usual approximate two-week time frame. But now, real life has taken a turn of the worse. Right now my future is up in the air. I may have to quit my job and relocate to another state, leaving my family behind. I spoke to my boss yesterday, and I'm hoping that perhaps things will be settled by next week. If so, then I will probably have my brain back and can write the next and what I'm thinking, final part. If not, and I'm in limbo for the next couple of weeks, then more than likely, nothing will be written for a while. My apologies that I ended part 41 in a cliff-hanger when the next part might not be coming for some weeks, but the 'shit didn't hit the fan' until just last Wednesday. Moronic bosses should be outlawed! ~~P'al Kwai
Warning: Graphic violence.
~Part: 42~
Sitting on the hotel counter, Spike wanted to pummel, batter, or pound someone or something. But still weak, he had to settle for annoying the three humans in residence by 'helping' them with their research. "So what kind of demon are we checking into again?" He asked as he thumbed through a large book. "I forgot what you told me."
Wesley, Gunn, and Cordelia all sighed in unison.
"Spike." Cordy looked up from her computer. "Haven't you got anything better to do, like going upstairs and watching your new TV?"
"Yeah, your brother's up there. . . " Gunn motioned to the hotel staircase. "All by himself. I think he's lonely and needs your company."
"He's meditating or something." Spike made excuses. He and his brother had already spent a few hours staring miserably at each other after hearing the news. Djoser needed time to himself, and he needed a distraction.
Standing up, Wesley walked over to the counter. Spike's sorrow at Buffy's death had triggered a spark of compassion in the ex-Watcher for the vampire. "I'm guessing that the birth of a younger sibling doesn't have the two of you jumping for joy." He said trying to express his empathy.
"I don't give a royal fuck, one way or another." Spike lied. "But Djoser. . .Djoser's going to lose his status as Successor because of this. . .this. . . ." He didn't even know how to refer to the Childe who would be his younger brother.
"Why would your brother lose his status just cause Angel's having another kid?" Closing the book he had been looking through with a thump, Gunn looked over with curiosity.
"The new Childe will be a Pure Blood." Without taking his eyes off Spike, Wesley explained. "Born of two vampires. Djoser and Spike had human mothers, so they're considered of lesser status. It's the vampire class system."
"That sucks." Busily searching the Internet, Cordelia was sympathetic. "Your brother didn't do anything, and now just because Angel decides to have an one-for-old-times-sake reunion with Darla and doesn't use protection, Djoser is no longer considered the heir. Can't he file a protest or something?"
"As I understand it. . . ." Wesley said after seeing that there was no forthcoming response from Spike. "The High Master does have some discretion over which of his Childer he names as his Successor, but a Pure Blood, who has no contamination in his Bloodline, is so highly regarded that there is no question that his place is at the top. Extremely rare, Pure. . . ."
Spike interrupted the lecture with an exaggerated yawn. "Hate to break up this fascinating topic of discussion, Professor Wes, but isn't there some awful, evil demon running around that we're suppose to be finding a way to stop?"
"Yes. . .of course." Looking down at his feet, Wesley realized that the last thing Spike wanted to hear was him extolling what a Pure Blood represented. "Was just trying to help." He mumbled to the vampire.
"Don't need your bleeding help." Grabbing the pen out of Wesley's hand, Spike began drawing in the book he had been looking at.
"SPIKE!" Compassion quickly turned to outrage, as the ex-Watcher made a lunge for his precious book. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"
"Giving this Hircinus demon his second horn. Frigging idiots who illustrated this book got it wrong."
"SPIKE!" Wesley wrestled his book out of the vampire's hands. "Hircinus demons do not have two horns."
"They do so, Watcher. I personally knew a few, and they all had two horns."
"You're delusional! I've studied the Hircinus demon, and it only has one horn." Wesley's tone was annoyed. "I've spent countless hours studying all species of demons. When I was with the Council, I was considered one of their leading experts on. . . ."
"I've forgotten more about demons than you'll ever know, Council Man." Spike interrupted. "Reading isn't the same as first hand experience. And believe me, I've had a lot of first hand experiences with many types of demons. Hey, Djoser. . . ." Seeing his brother come down the stairs, he decided to get another opinion. "How many horns does a Hircinus demon have, one or two?"
"A Hircinus demon?" Djoser considered a moment as he walked up to the hotel counter. "Don't Hircinus demons have three horns?"
Sighing, Cordelia couldn't help but speak up. "You know, you three experts are really instilling confidence."
"Hey, hey." Walking through the front entrance, Lorne greeted the group. "Looks like there's some serious discussion going on here."
"How many horns does a Hircinus demon have?" No polite welcome to Lorne, Spike just wanted an opinion that agreed with his.
"Hircinus demon. . .hmm." Lorne tried to picture one in his head. "They have horns?"
Heaving another huge sigh and rolling her eyes upward, Cordelia could only shake her head in disgust.
"Anyhoo, I'm looking for Angel Daddy. Found a highly recommended demon healer per his orders. Made an appointment for you." Lorne addressed Spike. "Had to pull some strings to get you in with this healer so quickly, but lucky for you I have a lot of strings to pull." With a wink and a grin, the usual perceptive Lorne was so proud of the procurement of this well-known healer that he hadn't read the tension that was filling both Spike and Djoser.
"Poof's not here." Scowling at the Anagogic demon, Spike had no intention of going to any healer. "Probably not going to be here for a while, so just go and cancel that appointment. Not going to go to any quack demon healer."
"Will." Glancing first at his younger brother, Djoser then looked with interest at Lorne. "Don't be so quick to say you won't go. Being restored to your normal strength is an opportunity you shouldn't pass up."
"O-kay." Standing between the two vampires, Lorne couldn't miss the troubled worry in both of them. "What's going on? And where's your Sire? He was very adamant that he wanted to take you. . . ." He looked Spike in the eyes. "To a healer as soon as possible."
"Angel's with Darla. He's taking her to the Ventrues, so she can see one of their healers." Wesley answered the demon after an uneasy silence.
"With Darla? Thought those two were on the outs. Man, if he isn't. . . ." Lorne stopped himself before the word 'pussy whipped' fell out of his mouth.
"She's pregnant. Pregnant with his. . . ." Wesley began before being interrupted.
"Oh My God!" Lorne exclaimed as he stepped back in shock. "That's what all the talk's been about then. All the vamps in this town have been whispering and mumbling about some prophetic 'miracle childe.' They're saying that this childe will be their salvation. That he will raise them back to their former glory. Man!" The demon was thoughtful for a moment before looking around the room."Does Angel know he's going to be the Father of the vampires' new savior?"
**
Standing in the Ventrue lair, arms folded tightly across his chest, Angel was desperately trying to hang on to his control.
"Master, your assistance is truly appreciated." Addressing the Ventrue Master, Darla couldn't help but give the handsome vampire a flirtatious smile. She did so love a man with power.
Inclining his head slightly, Judelin snapped his fingers at the minions in attendance. "Take the Tremeren Consort to the healers. They are to help her in any manner she requests." He then turned to Angel. "Angelus, will you be accompanying your. . . ?"
"No!" Angel didn't even bother looking in Darla's direction. An obvious message to her of his total indifference. "I just want to hear directly from your healers afterwards about her. . .condition."
"So be it." Judelin gestured the minions and Darla away. "Angelus, may I offer you some refreshment while we wait?" The Ventrue took a few steps toward Angel, an amused expression on his face. He understood the other man's blatant hostility.
"If you value your existence, I wouldn't get too close to me." A low growl as Angel fought the urge to attack. "It was not my idea to come here, but she insisted, said it was imperative that she see a vampire healer, and your healers are the only ones left on this continent. If she's telling the truth that she's pregnant and that I'm the Father, then. . . ."
"You will be the Sire of a Pure Blood. . . . There has not been one born to our race, since your younger brother Anton." The Ventrue Master walked over to a side table where various decanters of wine and bottles of liquor stood. Pouring himself a drink, he stood with his back to the younger vampire, showing Angel he had no fear of him. "A happy occasion." Judelin spoke softly to himself, feeling far from happy. "Join me, Angelus." He turned to face the other man. "We will toast your. . .prolificacy."
"You hurt them! You hurt my sons!" Darla and the pregnancy forgotten for a second as Angel could only think about getting his hands around the Ventrue's throat.
"Not any more than you have."
Calmly and quietly spoken, those brutally honest words stabbed Angel like hot pokers. Speechless, he could only stare at the other vampire, as the truth of what the Ventrue had said rushed over him.
"I was merciful to Djoser. He was partly responsible for the death of my GrandChilde. He should have died for his transgression. You would have killed anyone who had committed such a crime against you and yours."
"And William? What was his crime against you?"
"He suffered no pain with me." Judelin set his glass down carefully. "I made sure of that."
"He may have not suffered at the time, but he's suffering now. He's weak, can barely move." Angel stepped closer, anger evident in his voice. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?"
"Gave him a lesson that you should have given him. That Childe has so much potential, but he has run wild too long." Judelin answered with a questioning look in his eye. "But by now he should have recovered."
"He hasn't!" Angel snarled back.
"Then something is still not right with him." Now the Ventrue Master was worried. "You must bring him here, so my healers can take a look at him. The sooner, the better."
**
"We require payment up front." The demon receptionist in the doctor's office told Lorne while blowing a bubble with her chewing gum.
The Anagogic demon looked around at Djoser and Spike who stared back at him blankly.
"Didn't Poofy give you any money? Cause if he didn't, then I guess we're shit-out-of-luck and should just go home." Spike was hopeful. He really didn't want some strange demon healer poking at him.
"I'll pay." Wesley pulled out his wallet. "Angel will just owe me."
"Why would you do anything for Him, Wes?" Spike asked. "After the way he treated you. Bleeding shit stirrer. Butting into things that are none of his business."
"So you heard too?" Wesley sighed while handing a bill to the receptionist.
"The two of you were arguing so loud that I think half of LA heard." Lorne couldn't help but comment.
"That's just bloody great." Wesley mumbled to himself. "Half of LA knows all about my sex life."
"Half of LA might know, but most of us don't care." Stepping carefully backwards, Spike fell down into a loveseat. Coming to the healer's office had exhausted him. "Hearing about your sex life tends to numb the mind you know." Despite Wesley's help, the vampire still felt compelled to insult the ex-Watcher.
"I think I'll ask for my money back." Standing stiffly, Wesley gave Spike an evil glare.
"Both forms need to be filled out, front and back." The receptionist handed Wesley a clipboard along with a receipt.
"Here, Spike." Wesley smiled revengefully as he passed the clipboard to the vampire.
"Some paperwork for you."
"I'm not filling this out." Giving the questionnaires a quick glance, Spike threw the clipboard on the floor.
"The doctor won't see you unless you fill out the health history forms." The demoness called out through the reception window.
"Spike! Just fill out the bloody forms." Wesley was fast losing his patience as he bent down to pick up the clipboard. "Lorne was good enough to get you this appointment. We've made it this far, so don't SCREW it up by being such a sodding wanker."
Taken aback by Wesley's show of temper, Spike, uncharacteristically submissive, took the clipboard. "Don't need to get pissy, Wes. . . .Alright, name. . .William, Blood-Childe of Angelus, Tremeren Heir Apparent." He wrote on the first form. "Address. . .The Hyperion Hotel."
"Spike! You also need to write the street address of the Hyperion." A meticulous record keeper, Wesley was anal about having everything filled out completely and properly.
"How come?" Spike had no idea why Wesley was upset again. "Age. . .hmm." Narrowing his eyes, he thought hard. "It's 2001, right? Ok, then I'm 201 years old. Nice round number." A proud grin at his inventiveness.
"William." Sitting down next to his brother, Djoser peered over at the clipboard. "You are not 201 years old. You had better stop lying."
"For God's sake!" Grabbing the clipboard out of the vampire's hand, Wesley had had enough. "Give me the pen. Now, I'll ask you the questions, and you tell me the truthful answers, okay?"
"Gotcha, Wes. Truthful answers, right." Happy to have pawned off the paperwork on Wesley, Spike decided he'd try to be cooperative.
Quickly writing in the correct address of the Hyperion, Wesley went on to the next questions. "Sex, male. Species, vampire."
"Bloodline vampire." Spike corrected him.
"Yes, of course, Bloodline vampire." Wesley added the word bloodline before vampire. "Health history. Any past major health problems? Well, you were recently poisoned."
"Had some friggin' military chip put in and then taken out of my skull a couple of years ago."
"Military chip." Wesley repeated as he wrote it in the past health problems box.
"Tortured by railroad spikes dipped in holy water. Also suffered a broken spine, broken legs, arms, feet, hands. . . ."
"Has every bone in your body been broken?" Interrupting, Wesley was shocked.
"Yep." Spike shook his head in the affirmative. "And I've also had a pokers skewered through most of my body parts."
"Bodily injuries too numerous to count." Wesley had run out of room on the form. "Okay, let's go on. Family health history. Mother, deceased. Father. . . ."
"His past health problems are: cursed by gypsies and cursed by stupidity." Spike added helpfully.
"And I whole-heartedly agree with your assessment." Wesley concurred while writing Spike's exact words under father. "Brother. . . ." He looked up at Djoser. "Recently suffered torture by metal skewers. And what else?"
"William." The healer, a tall, commanding demon, walked out into the waiting room.
"I'm William." Spike gave the healer the once over, trying to decide if he'd let the demon touch him.
Taking the clipboard out of Wesley's hands, the healer studied it quickly. "A Blood-Childe! Which one of you is this Childe's Sire?" He asked in an authoritative tone.
"Angelus. . .his Sire had something. . .unexpected that came up." Lorne stood up. "But I was asked to bring him. . . ."
"I will not examine him unless his Sire is present." The healer interrupted.
"Listen. . .sir." Wesley now stood up as well. "This is a rather urgent situation. Spike. . .err, William here has been. . . ."
"I will not get close to him unless the Sire is present. Touch him in any wrong way, and I'd have the whole. . . ." The healer looked again at the clipboard. "Tremeren Clan looking to torture me to death for daring to harm one of their Blood-Childer. I don't need that kind of aggravation."
"I'm his brother." Now Djoser stood up too. "Our Clan's Successor. I am here representing my Sire. You can be assured. . . ."
"No Sire. No exam." Throwing the clipboard down on an end table, the healer would listen to no more arguments. "Now get out. All of you. I'm a busy man."
"Sodding git!" Spike hadn't wanted the demon doctor to examine him, but the healer refusing him service still angered him. "Djoser, go and dismember that motherfucker."
"Hang on. Hang on." Lorne stepped in front of Djoser. His contact would not be too happy with him if he allowed the healer to be killed. "Mutilating the doctor won't help matters. We'll just schedule another appointment and make sure that Angel comes with you next time."
"I'll reschedule the appointment." Wesley offered as he walked over to the receptionist. "We wish to make another appointment, and if you would be so good as to refund my money!"
**
After dropping Lorne off, Wesley headed back to the Hyperion. "Going to check to see if Cordelia's still working. See if she needs a lift home. But before we leave, I think we should try to ring Angel on his cell phone. Tell him what happened tonight, and how important it is that he come home to take care of you, Spike." The ex-Watcher looked first at Djoser, who was sitting in front with him, and then over his shoulder at an exhausted Spike, who had fallen asleep in the back seat.
"Don't go to the trouble of calling my Sire. He can't be bothered when he's with Darla." Face impassive, Djoser stared straight ahead.
"Are you sur. . . ?" Wesley started to ask but then thought better of it. "If you say so." Pulling up to the Hyperion, he stopped the car and got out. "Do you need any help with him?" He called out to Djoser, who was pulling his sleeping brother out of the back of the car.
Looking up a moment, the vampire wasn't sure if he should be grateful to the human for his offer of help or insulted that the human didn't think him strong enough to carry his slightly built brother. "I don't need. . . ." Djoser never finished his sentence as he was suddenly assaulted from behind. A forearm pressed against his throat as the attacker pushed his body weight down on him. Letting go of Spike, Djoser propelled himself backward, smashing the other vampire into the hotel wall.
Trying to fend off two more attackers, Wesley yelled out, hoping that Cordelia was still in residence. Fortunately, both Cordy and Gunn were still at the Hyperion. Rushing out weapons in hand, they jumped in the foray. Outnumbered, the attacking vampires were soon dust.
"What the bloody hell is going on?" Still groggy, Spike had awakened to see Djoser pinning another vampire against the wall, left hand around the vamp's throat. In a blur of motion, his brother's right hand came up and tore out the enemy's heart.
"Who were those guys?" Wesley, Gunn, and Cordelia looked around, checking the area, while the last enemy vampire, heart now removed, dissolved into dust.
"Ventrues." Djoser studied the heart in his hand, waited a second for it to combust, and then dropped it to the ground.
"Ventrues!" Shocked, Wesley took a step closer to Djoser. "Why would they attack us? And my God, Angel and Darla went to their lair. . .Cordy." He turned to his co-worker. "Try and ring Angel. Tell him. . . ."
"I could try." Cordelia interrupted. "But it wouldn't help, since the dope left his cell phone here at the hotel."
"Damn." Wesley swore softly.
"Guess we better head over to the Ventrues' lair then." Gunn swung the battle-ax he was carrying over his shoulder. "Might get there in time to warn him. If not, might still be able to save him."
"Take the minion." Djoser added helpfully. "He can show you where their lair is."
"And you?" Wesley couldn't shake the feeling of wrongness he was getting from the whole situation.
"I have to stay and watch over William." Dark eyes turned to Spike. Dark eyes that flashed a warning to his brother, 'don't say anything.'
Reading the message in Djoser's eyes, Spike closed his mouth, stopping the comment that he had been about to say. Trusting his brother, he remained silent, not telling the humans that the vampires who had attacked them had not been Ventrues.
~Part: 43~
"So you finally starting to develop a sense of humor, or what?" Spike slowly followed his brother up the stairs to their bedroom. "What was the idea of lying to the humans so they'd run to the Ventrue lair?"
"I needed to get them away from here." Entering the bedroom, Djoser immediately headed for the closet. "They don't need to know our business."
"Our business?" Puzzled, Spike watched his brother pull out a large duffle bag. "What business? And what are you planning to do with that?" He asked, nodding at the canvas bag.
Giving the bag a shake, Djoser looked up at Spike. "We're leaving, Will. And getting the humans away from here assures that no one will have any clue to where we go."
"LEAVING! Are you balmy? We're Blood-Childer. And Blood-Childer are supposed to stay with their Fathers. We won't make the city limits of LA, before our Sire comes to. . . ."
"Do you really think that he'll come after us?" Going to a dresser, Djoser began pulling out his clothes. "He's with Darla now. They're expecting a Childe of their own. He probably won't even know we're gone until someone points it out to him."
His throat closing up, a suffocating sensation began washing over Spike. His brother's tone was filled with disgusted conviction.
Turning around, Djoser felt his own throat close as Spike stood in the middle of the room, eyes wide with unshed tears, looking tired and defeated. "Will." Two strides and he was able to grab his brother by the shoulders. "You know what I'm saying is true, don't you? Do you remember? Do you remember how he would leave us for months on end to be with her? He never cared about us. How many times were you attacked by Penn and Lucien because. . .because. . . ." Angry, he didn't finish his sentence as he too remembered all the havoc and hurt that the two Turned Childer of Angelus had wrecked because the Master had not been there to rein them in.
"But why do we have to leave?" Spike's voice was unusually quiet and meek. "Even if he does ignore us, we're still safer here with him. All the problems with the Council, the Ventrues, and. . .and Snow. You know that Pissant is still alive somewhere. We're protected here in our Father's lair, even. . . ."
"Will." Djoser interrupted. "Who were those vampires who attacked us?"
"Those vamps?" Spike was thoughtful. "A band of no named Caitiff vampires. . .which you would have thought that Ex-Council-Watcher-vampire-expert Wesley should have known. What a git that he believed they were Ventrues."
"A band of Caitiff vampires who dared attack two Blood-Childer." Djoser stared hard at his brother. "How is that possible?"
"We-ll." Spike considered some more. "They were either high on something, had the IQ of a slug, or maybe both."
"Or someone hired them to attack us." The warrior vampire watched his brother carefully as he brought his theory out in the open. "Someone with a certain amount of importance."
"All the more reason to stay here. If someone is out to get us, then our Sire needs to know, so he can. . . ."
"And my guess is that someone is Darla." Showing no emotion, Djoser finally spoke the enemy's name.
"Pfft!" Turning away, Spike immediately rejected his brother's theory. "Guess those Caitiff vamps aren't the only vampires around here with an IQ of a slug. Darla knows the penalty for harming a Blood-Childe. She wouldn't jeopardize her position now that she's going to be the Maternal Sire of the first Pure Blood born in what, more than two hundred years."
"As long as we're around, we're opposition for her new Childe, and Darla hates any kind of competition."
"Alright." Spike swung around, confronting Djoser. "Let's just say you're correct, and Darla wants to get rid of us. The next time one of her hirelings attack us, we capture him and prove to our Sire what she's up to. He'll dust her, and our problems will be solved."
"I can't believe that you think it will be resolved so easily." Djoser realized that his brother was in deep denial. "But then perhaps, you don't remember. You were very young. Darla was our Sire's world. Everyone and everything else came in second. She'll make up some kind of defense, and he'll believe her."
"He doesn't feel for her like he did. He staked her in defense of the Slayer whom he loved. He'll stake her again for us because he loves us." Speaking louder, Spike was insistent.
"Not when she's carrying his Childe. His Pure Blood Childe. His Heir." Djoser couldn't help the pity that appeared on his face. He knew that his brother so desperately wanted to believe. Believe that they meant something to their Sire. "She hates us, Will. She always did and always will. She wants Angelus for herself, and he'll allow it because deep down it's what he wants too. We are no longer safe here."
Tears that had been threatening finally broke through, as Spike looked around his Father's lair. He knew he'd never see it again. "So if we leave, will she call off the dogs?"
"If we leave and disappear for good, I think she will. She'll have known then that she won."
"If we're going, I want my new telly. . .and I want my. . . ." Spike looked over at the bed. The jar with Snow's eyeball sat on the headboard.
"I'll take your television and put in the trunk." Djoser quickly agreed, hoping that it would console his brother. "Are you strong enough to pack your clothes?" He held out the duffle bag to Spike.
"Yeah, mate." Taking the bag, Spike watched his tears fall on to it. "Guess this time, we're going to abandon Him." He whispered, trying to make himself feel better. But that simple fact gave him no comfort at all.
**
"Did Djoser, perhaps just make an honest mistake?" Standing with his co-workers, Wesley stared curiously at Angel who had gotten out of his car and was looking around the hotel's parking garage.
"That boy knows a Ventrue vampire when he sees one." Walking around the car to Angel, Darla grabbed his arm possessively. "He probably thought it was funny to make you humans look like fools." Pausing a moment, the vampiress remembered the scene where the humans had come charging in, thinking they were actually going to rescue her and Angel from the Ventrues. "Actually it was quite funny."
Scowling darkly at the two vampires, Gunn was not amused. "Next time the two of you need saving, remind me to be out of town."
"There's a car missing." A suspicion starting to form, Angel quickly headed for the hotel entrance, shaking Darla off his arm. Taking the stairs, two at a time, he ran into the Hyperion, calling his Childer's names. "Djoser! William!"
Entering the hotel lobby, Angel didn't need to go any further. He felt the emptiness. His Childer were gone.
"They probably just went to some demon bar, or whore house." Following him in, Darla was unconcerned. "Boys will be boys, you know."
"Spike was too weak to go anywhere like a demon pub or. . .whore house." Thinking back on the recent past events, and remembering his uneasiness, Wesley put two and two together. Meeting Angel's eyes, he spoke softly. "Djoser lied to us deliberately. He wanted us out of the way, so he and Spike could run off without anyone knowing where they went."
**
Stumbling into the Mexican roadhouse, Spike knew, even before he entered that something was terribly wrong. Vehicles still parked outside, but no sign of any kind of life, human or demon. No noise, only silence. "I might have known." He collapsed onto a bar stool. "My existence is jinxed." Looking around at the obvious signs of a battle. Blood everywhere, walls, ceiling, and on the ground, seeped into the piles of dust that covered the floor. "No bodies, so it must have been other vamps. Do you think our uncle managed to get away?"
"Nic was a survivor. There's a good possibility that he escaped." Sniffing the air, Djoser tried to make out any smells that would give him more information.
"Yeah, right." Spike knew that his brother was just trying to make him feel better. "Don't quite see Nic running out, while all his mates were being slaughtered. He was honorable and loyal, despite what Poofy and his Sire, the Grand Poof thought."
Surveying the bar some more, Spike was numb. Leaving Angel had been devastating, but he had managed because there had been the comforting knowledge that he'd be living with Nic. "YOU PROMISED." He accused his brother. "You promised that we would be alright. That we would be safe in our uncle's lair."
"We'll stay here today, and as soon as night falls, we'll start searching for him. He's probably somewhere near by." Finishing his examination of the scene, a part of Djoser was sure that Nic was still alive and well somewhere. Turning and going over to Spike, the vampire gently took a hold of his brother's arm. "Come on. I believe there are some back bedrooms in this place. We'll get some sleep now."
"He's DEAD, Djoser! We'll just be wasting our time looking for him." Letting his brother help him up, Spike could feel despair welling up. Nowhere to call home now, they would just wander from place to place.
"He's NOT dead." Djoser was adamant. "He's a Bloodline vampire, and we of the Bloodline are hard to kill. We'll find him. Knowing him, he's got more lairs in other countries. We'll find him, and then he'll take us to one of them. We'll live there with him. You'll like that. Nic drinks and parties a lot. His lifestyle is right up your alley."
"And you? Boozing and partying isn't your idea of fun." Djoser's arm around him, Spike slowly began to walk to the back of the bar.
"Maybe I need to start redefining my idea of fun." A hint of humor glowed in the vampire's dark eyes. "I've spend my human years and now all of my vampire years doing my duty. Doing what was expected of me as a Blood-Childe. I'm tired of it. I think it's time for me to have some fun."
**
"Ok, I'm out of here. Going to search the city for them." Angel turned to head back to the parking garage.
"It's almost daylight. You can't properly search for them now. Wait until sundown, and then you can go look for them." Darla, again grabbed Angel by the arm. "They're probably just holed up somewhere here in LA, sulking. With the sun coming out, they won't be going anywhere either."
"NO! I need to find. . . ."
"Angel." Wesley interrupted. "Darla's right. You're too limited in the day time. Let the three of us. . . ." He pointed to Gunn and Cordelia. "Try to track where they went. Get some rest, and by sundown, hopefully, we'll have something to report."
"Awful fast at volunteering my services in helping find his brats, Wes." Now scowling at Wesley, Gunn was still remembering the vampires' ingratitude at their rescue attempt.
"I'm the Sire. I have a blood bond with both of them. If I canvass the city, I'll be able to tell if they're still around or not. But if the three of you want to help, we could divide the city. . . ."
"They're headed to their uncle's." A timid voice called out from the mezzanine above.
"Fred!" Smiling, Cordelia stepped up to stand directly under her friend. "You've come out of your room."
"I've been working at it." Fred gave Cordelia a hesitant smile. "I overheard them talking." She looked over at Angel. "They passed my room, carrying some stuff, and that's when I heard them talk about going to their uncle's lair in Mexico. Said they could make it there before the sun rose."
"Nic's lair is a roadhouse just across the border. It shouldn't be too hard to find." Arms crossed over his chest, Angel was both angry and relieved at the same time. "And when I catch up to those two, there's going to be hell to pay. Pulling a stunt like that now, when times are so unsettled." Turning once again to head for the parking garage, he was greeted by the sight of a group of vampires who had come up through the sewers.
"It's her!" The head vampire pointed to Darla. "The one who carries the miracle Childe." Bowing down in front of her, the vampires chanted. "Praise be. Praise be. Praise be."
"I am Angelus, High Master of the Tremere Clan." Angel's tone was arrogant and contemptuous as he looked over the group of vampires. "What is your business here?"
"To protect the miracle Childe. The Childe who was prophesied by our great potentate Ul-thar to be the one who will raise us back to our former glory."
"Is that so?" Thoughtful, Angel wondered if he could employ these vampires to follow him. It would be useful to have minions again. "I could use your help, not just to protect my unborn Childe, but also to. . . ."
"Now let us kill the humans so we may use their blood to nourish the mother and her miracle Childe." Interrupting, the head vampire was not interested in anything that Angel had to say.
"Great!" Darla smiled widely. "Guess I'm getting dinner after all."
"We will make sure you are well nourished until the time comes. And when the miracle Childe is ready to come out, we will slice you open, wear your entrails as a belt and consume your eyeballs before we worship the miracle Childe." The head minion calmly informed the vampiress.
"You think so? You, young man should learn respect for your elders. " Now angry, Darla grabbed the head vamp by the ears, slamming her forehead into his before giving him a strong blow to the chin. Turning to Angel, she said. "Let's show these youngsters a thing or two about real carnage."
**
"What are you doing on the floor?" Entering the bedroom, Djoser looked over at Spike who had made himself a bed on the ground. "Here's your television." He said, setting the TV on a dresser. "Don't know what kind of reception you'll get, but hopefully we can get something for you to watch for a little while."
"Yeah, preferably something in English. Don't want to listen to some foreigners gabbing away in Espanol."
"William." Djoser couldn't help but grin. "You're the foreigner here, and English is the. . . ."
"I know that." Spike interrupted. "Lived in South America twice now. Tried to catch on to Spanish, but they all speak so fast, that I never could catch anything but the first word. It's like their gobs are set at a different speed than ours."
"There are different rates of speech in any language, depending on the person." Djoser was still grinning as he flicked through the channels trying to find a station. "And again I ask you, what are you doing on the floor?"
"There's only one bed in here, mate, and I don't want to. . . ." Looking down, Spike was slightly embarrassed to admit this. "To sleep alone. So you can have the bed."
"The bed is big enough." Finally finding something on the TV that was watchable, Djoser turned toward the bed. "We'll both sleep in it."
"We will?" Spike was stunned. "But you won't sleep in the same bed with me."
"How did our Sire sleep with you? Didn't he hold you a special way, so you couldn't flail around?" Walking over to his brother, Djoser pulled him up, helping him into the bed.
"He wrapped both arms and legs around me." Lying down on the bed, Spike smiled for the first time since they left LA. "But one of the requirements for this process is you have to be stark bollock naked." His brother's bare skin on his would be a comfort.
"I think I can manage that." Undressing quickly, Djoser slid into bed, pulling Spike up against him. "Like this?" He asked as he wrapped his limbs around his brother.
"Yeah mate, that's it." Eyes heavy, weariness overcame the vampire, but before he dropped off to sleep, he mumbled one more question. "You won't leave me, will you?"
"Never. I'll never leave you again, Will." A moment passed, and the dark vampire felt the rise and fall of his brother's chest, a sign that he was drifting off to sleep. He continued to talk to Spike, outlining their plans. "We should leave here as soon as the sun sets. The sooner we leave, the easier it will be to track Nic. And you know, I think we better not take our car tomorrow. We'll take one of the other vehicles which are parked outside. We'll switch license plates and cover our tracks. Keep Darla's minions off our tails."
Grabbing the TV remote, Djoser switched off the television. Lying in darkness, he held Spike tight against him. A wave of love and protectiveness swept through him. "I'll always take care of you, my brother."
**
Dusting the last of the vampires, Angel could feel his emotions churning around inside of him. Torn between love for his two missing Childer and the love that was growing for his unborn Childe. "Just what the hell is going on and what were those vamps talking about?" He bellowed angrily. Another unexplained danger that needed to be solved.
"Well, according to Lorne, the vampires here in LA are all talking about the coming of a new Childe who will be the savior of the vampire race." Wiping the sweat off his brow, Wesley was still trying to catch his breath. "That would explain their. . .their. . . ." He pointed to the piles of dust on the hotel floor. "Their odd behavior."
"Odd behavior is right." Angel threw his weapon down. "That these inferiors would dare to attack a High Master and his Consort. You're right." He addressed Darla. "Young people nowadays have no respect for their elders."
"They want your. . . ." Wesley stared at both Angel and Darla. "Childe."
"He destined for great things." Darla rubbed her stomach contentedly. "I knew that my Boy and I would produce a special Childe."
"Both Lorne and now these vampires mentioned a prophecy. Maybe this should be researched. Fred. . . ." Wesley looked up at the young woman who had run back into her room when the fighting had started but was now once again standing at the mezzanine railing. "Do you think you could help us with some research?"
"Sure." Her tone was nervous and hesitant but even so, the young woman turned to make her way downstairs.
"Angel." Wesley turned to the vampire. "All of you need to start looking into this prophecy. We need to know what it says."
"You research it, Wes. I need to get to Mexico. Darla, stay here. I should be back by nightfall." Once again, Angel turned to leave but a hand grabbed him.
"I think you should stay here and protect your unborn Childe. If what everyone is saying is true, he could well end up being a pivotal figure in. . . ."
"In what, Wes? If his destiny is to raise the vampires up again, then all of you. . . ." Angel glanced over the humans in the room. "Might be better off if he were never born."
"Perhaps. But before we start jumping to wild conclusions, don't you think we should have some solid information first?" Tightening his grip, Wesley was finding himself unintimidated by Angel. A fact which, when he would have a chance to think about it later, would surprise him. "Djoser and Spike are not lost. We now know where they are. Let me go and fetch them. You stay here and guard Darla and your unborn Childe."
"And why are you so willing to go to Mexico?" Eyes narrowing, Angel looked at the ex-Watcher with suspicion.
"I want to speak to Nic." Despite Angel's frown, Wesley continued undaunted. "I have that right, and you owe me this opportunity. And I, in return will see that Djoser and Spike are returned safely to you."
**
South of the border, using a flashlight, Wesley was trying to make heads or tails of the map he was studying. "Guess it's been a while since Angel was here in Mexico because he certainly doesn't realize just how many bloody pubs and roadhouses are here on the border!" Tired, head aching, the ex-Watcher had lost count of how many he and Angel's minion had checked out.
"At the next crossroads, make a right." Wesley instructed the vampire who since sunset had been driving. "When we finally do find the right pub, you'll know if it's Nic's lair, won't you?" Feeling desperate, he wanted to make sure that they hadn't missed something.
"I'm a Tremeren vampire. I'll know a Tremeren lair."
"Yes, but Nic has not been considered a Tremeren vampire for years now. Will you still know. . . ?" Wesley broke off as his cell phone rang. He knew who it was before he answered it. "Yes, Angel and no we haven't found the lair yet!" Snapping his cell phone off with a grunt of disgust, he couldn't help but comment. "How does he expect me to get anything accomplished when he keeps ringing me every five minutes?"
"This could be it." The minion commented as a large building came into view.
"I bloody well hope so! If it isn't, I'm afraid your High Master is going to suffer a stroke." As soon as the car came to a stop, Wesley jumped out. "Leave the head lamps on. Let's check the parking lot first." He yelled to the vampire, and then he saw it. The car. Djoser's car. "They're here. This is the lair." Shouting, voice quivering with excitement.
"I don't think so, human." A few feet from the car the minion stood stock still, concentrating on his surroundings. He could not hear nor smell any kind of life or unlife. "There's no one here, human or demon."
"What?" Giving the vampire a disbelieving look, Wesley began running toward the building's entrance. Stumbling through the door, he saw that the minion was right. There was no sign of life, only blood and piles of dust. "My God! They were attacked. They're. . . ." Unable to finish his sentence, the ex-Watcher could only race through the building, looking for a survivor.
Although the vampire was certain that there was no one else on the premises but them, he too went through each room, trying to spot any clue as to what had happened. Entering a back bedroom, he caught some familiar scents. "They were here sleeping." He shouted to Wesley.
"Where?" Wesley ran through a hallway to the minion who was busily checking out the room. "They slept here? How do you know?" Stopping himself, the ex-Watcher realized that was a stupid question. A minion would know the smell of the Master's Blood-Childer.
Sinking to the floor, Wesley was numb with disbelief. Djoser, Spike, and probably Nic were gone, attacked and murdered. But by whom? Hearing his cell phone ring again, Wesley pulled it out of his pocket and stared at it. How could he tell Angel that his sons were dead?
****
Dedicated to all the people who were kind enough to send me feedback. It's what kept me inspired, so that I actually finished this series.
~Epilogue~
Seven months later, October 2001, Mexico
Lying on the hood of the car, Spike waited for his brother to come out of the motel where they had spent the last two days. "Come on already." He yelled through the opened door. "Not getting any younger here. What have you been doing anyway? You're a vampire. Can't think that you had to use the loo before we set out."
"What's your hurry? We don't have any place to be." A dispirited Djoser exited the motel room, closing the door carefully behind him.
"Don't I know that, mate." Closing his eyes a moment, Spike fought back his depression. No place to go. No one to go to. "So are we going to continue searching for a dead uncle, or are you finally going to face facts and realize that Nic is no longer on this earth."
"No, you were right." Leaning on the roof the car, Djoser looked up into the night sky. He was a rootless nomad once again. "Nic must have died back in his lair. It's just so hard for me to believe that he's gone." Pausing, he glanced over at his brother. "How are you feeling today?"
Spike had regained some of his old strength back, but he had good days and bad days.
Shrugging carelessly, Spike didn't much care how he felt physically. "Alright, I guess. So any idea on where we should go? You're not planning to stay here in Mexico, are you?"
"No, I think. . . ." Djoser was thoughtful. "I think we should take a trip back to California. Go see that Watcher in Sunnydale."
"Rupert? What the bloody hell for?" Spike sat up in surprise. "That's the last place we should go. One of those blabbermouth Scoobies will go and open their big gobs to Cordelia or Wesley. And they in turn will tell. . . ." Even after six months, he still couldn't bring himself to say his Sire's name. "Well, then Darla will know we're still around, and isn't that what we're trying to avoid?"
"We'll steer clear of the Slayer's friends. We'll wait for an opportunity to speak with the Watcher when he is alone."
"And what do you want to speak to Giles about?" Spike gave his brother an incredulous look of 'wonder why everyone always thought you were so smart.'
"He can help us find out where our uncle Damon is."
Sighing, while rolling his eyes upward, Spike decided that Djoser was losing his marbles. "First off, why would Giles help us? And second, why do we care where Damon is?"
"We helped him defeat Glory. And we're only asking him for a small favor." Arms folded on the roof of the car, Djoser rested his chin on them.
"O-kay." Spike decided to humor his brother. "And why do we want to find Damon?"
"Damon and Darla hated each other. I'm sure that when Damon arrived in LA and found out that she was back, he left. I'm guessing, he took his new Childe, and some, if not all of his minions elsewhere. If we knew where he was, we could go to him. Ask him if he would take us in."
"And why would we want to go with him? Thought he was the evil uncle who wanted us dead."
"Not anymore. Not with our Sire alive and still High Master. And especially not with a new Pure Blood about to be born." Djoser explained. "No, his chance of succession has been eliminated as ours has, so he isn't our enemy anymore."
Jumping off the hood of the car, Spike had no idea what his brother was talking about. "Didn't understand a bleeding thing you just said. He was our enemy but now he's not because a Pure Blood is about to be born to the High Master? Is there some kind of frigging handbook that I can read that would explain all of this? It makes no bloody sense at all."
"Get in the car, and I'll explain it to you on the way to Sunnydale." Despite their sad situation, Djoser couldn't help but smile at Spike. His brother could be so amusing.
"You do that, mate." Opening the passenger car door, Spike got in. "Just talk to me all the way to Sunnydale. Keeps me from thinking about. . .*Him*." Leaning back in the car seat, he closed his eyes. His tears had long since dried up, but every day he struggled. Struggled to forget that for three months he had been home with his Father and happy.
**
Striking the punching bag hard, Angel knocked it across the room. Every day he came down in the basement and worked out until he was exhausted. It kept him busy, so he couldn't think too much about what his unlife had become. Because if he sat down long enough to give thought to it, he might be driven to fall onto a stake.
Nic, Djoser, and William, his precious William were all dead. Struck down by unknown enemies, and he, Angelus, Scourge of Europe was not even able to avenge their deaths, because he was too tied down in protecting Darla and his unborn Childe. Protecting them from humans, demons, and an old nemesis from the past named Holtz. Holtz, an enemy who had stepped out from the late eighteenth century to continue to hunt him and Darla. How that was possible, none of them know.
To add to his burden, Damon had never returned from Germany. Perhaps his brother and what remained of their Clan had also met some disastrous fate by one of their many enemies.
"There's no one left." Angel whispered to himself. "Just myself, Darla, and one lone minion." Walking slowly over to the punching bag, he picked it up. "My beautiful sons." The faces of Djoser and William flashed before his eyes as tears began to fall. "How I do miss you."
****
Finis
Author's Notes: Now before everyone begins to throw things at me for this ending, let me explain my reasoning. After I finished Bloodlines I, and ppl wrote me saying I had to write a sequel so that I could make things right between Angel and Spike, I sat down and outlined Bloodlines II. My original thought was that I would end the story with Angel and Spike still together (see Part 38), but then S3 of Angel began with the plotline of Darla, her pregnancy, and Connor, and it was such a perfect fit that I couldn't resist adding it. But with Darla reunited with Angel, I think that logically it would drive a wedge between Angel and his sons. So Bloodlines II began with Darla causing problems for Djoser and Spike and ended with her doing the same.
As far a Bloodlines III, I'm still debating whether I want to write a third installment. I have some thoughts on it, but I don't know whether I'm up to the challenge of writing a third part. Another fandom has been calling my name lately, so I'm going to take a break from Bloodlines, try and write a fic in another fandom, and after that see what my muse tells me. I thank everyone who helped me with this massive fic, and for the ppl who stuck with me as I struggled, at times to finish it. I was happy to share my warped imagination. Take care everyone. ~~P'al Kwai