Bloodlines, The Continued Existence, Book 3

Author: P'al Kwai

My thanks to Elisabeth, who began helping me half way through Rebirth and has agreed to continue to beta for me, even though she's bogged down with school work this year.

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~Part: 11~

Sunnydale, November 2001

Walking through town, Spike was purposely making his way to Buffy's house. He had just finished cleaning up the Slayer's mistake by weighing the young woman's body down with rocks and dropping it into the river. "Now, Buffy." He spoke out loud to himself. "Are you going to be appreciative enough to perhaps reward me by helping to find my brother?"

Cutting through an alley that ran alongside the Sunnydale police station, the vampire was amazed to find the very person he was looking for up ahead of him. "Slayer." He called out to her.

Either she didn't hear, or she was ignoring him, but Buffy did not turn to look but kept walking toward the police station.

"Slayer!" Using his vampiric speed and strength, Spike took a flying leap and managed to catch Buffy by the shoulder. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm going to do the right thing, for once. I'm going to turn myself in." Jerking her shoulder, Buffy tried to pull away from Spike.

"Sorry, luv." Tightening his grip with one hand, he used the other to spin and throw Buffy to the pavement. "Can't let you do that. Right now you're the only one that's standing between me and the Ventrues and or Darla and her henchmen."

Picking herself up from the ground, Buffy glared at Spike while brushing herself off. "I have to tell them what happened."

"Oh, like they're going to believe about the demons in the woods and time going wonky?" Cocking his head, Spike gave Buffy a get-real' look.

"I'll show them." She spoke through gritted teeth.

"Show them what?" The vampire's expression was pure innocence.

Pausing a moment, Buffy let Spike's words sink in. "What did you do?

"What I had to." He answered calmly. "I went back and I took care of it. It doesn't matter now. No one will ever find her."

At that moment two patrol officers came rushing out of the police station. "So where'd they find her?" The one asked the other as they ran to a car.

"The river. She washed up half a mile from the cemetery."

Hearing the conversation, Spike could only roll his eyes in disgust. "Oh. . .balls!"

Buffy too heard what the cops had said, and it made her even more determined. "I'm going in." She moved to brush past Spike.

Spike grabbed her again, but this time with a hint of violence. "You're not going in there! It was a bloody accident. Can't you get that through your thick head?"

"Spike." Buffy's voice was soft but ominous. "Let go of me or suffer the consequences."

"You. Are. Not. Going. In. There." Face vamping out, Spike once again threw her to the ground. "You're not going to throw you life away over this. Think about what you're doing. Think about your responsibilities. Think about your sister Dawn. . . ." And think about me he finished the sentence to himself.

"Spike." Standing up, Buffy had enough. "I warned you." Throwing a hard uppercut, much of her pain over killing an innocent went into that punch, sending the vampire into a couple of garbage cans.

Spike jumped up quickly so that he could intercept Buffy. "Why are you doing this to yourself? It isn't that big of a deal. So one girl was killed accidentally. You've saved countless others. One stacked up against hundreds doesn't tip the scale."

"You just don't understand, do you?" Needing to release more of her anguish, Buffy began throwing punches at the vampire. "To you, she's just another body."

Blocking the blows, Spike continued to argue. "You're the Slayer. You're going to let down all the people who are depending on you because of one dead girl?"

"This is none of your business, Spike." Hands moving like those of a boxer, Buffy finally managed to get a couple of hits to connect to the vampire's midsection.

Doubling over, Spike wasn't fast enough to avoid the following kicks. One was strong enough to throw him to the ground. "Buffy." He managed to protest once before the now out-of-control Slayer was on top of him.

"You're just a soulless dead thing." She screamed at him as she pummeled him with her fists. "You can't possible understand how I would feel about killing an innocent woman."

Although recovered, Spike was still no match for an enraged Slayer and could do nothing to stop her attack. Face bleeding and bruised, it reverted back to its human features.

The swollen, bloody human face of Spike brought Buffy to her senses. Stopping her assault, she could only stare down with revulsion at what she had done.

**

A few nights later a carload of vampires arrived in Sunnydale. "Go straight to the Slayer's house." The leader, sitting up front in the passenger's seat, instructed the driver. "If we pick up William fast, we'll still have enough time to make it back to LA and rendezvous with Damon and the rest of the clan before sunrise."

Despite having three trained fighters with him, Nic still worried about the Ventrues. They were in California now, the enemy's territory.

"My Liege." The driver addressed Nic in respectful tones. "If I may ask, why is one of our Heir Apparents at the Slayer's house? Shouldn't that be the last place he would be?"

Snorting with disgust, Nic flicked the ash of his cigarette out the car window. "You would think so, but it seems that my nephews don't have one brain cell between the two of. . . ." Stopping, the vampire realized that it wasn't proper to criticize the Heir Apparents to minions. "Here's the house." He said with some relief as it effectively brought the conversation to a close.

The car hadn't totally come to a complete stop before Nic jumped out. 'Please.' The vampire muttered a silent pray to any god who would listen. 'Let my nephew be here, and just let me get him to LA. There, Damon can take responsibility for him.' "Hey!" He hammered on the door a few times. "Open up, Slayer. I'm here for William."

Inside the house, Willow, working on her laptop, jerked with surprise at the pounding. "Who's that?" She asked Spike who was peeking out the front window.

"Bloody hell!" A smile lit up Spike's face. "It's my back-from-the-dead uncle." Racing to the door, he flung it open with Willow right behind him.

"Spike! Be careful who you. . . ." Cutting off, as she stood face-to-face with Nic.

"William, thank the gods you're here. Get your stuff and. . . ." The vampire broke off as he got a good look at his nephew. "What the fuck happened to you?"

Spike's face was still bruised and swollen from the beating he had taken from Buffy.

Shrugging his shoulders, Spike tried to downplay it. "Oh the usual, got into a scrap. . .but where the bloody hell have you been? Djoser and I have searching for you for eight months now, and, oh yeah, you need to take me to Nevada. Djoser's missing and. . . ."

"Djoser's not missing." Nic interrupted, still studying his nephew's face. "He's with Damon, and they're on their way to LA. Who were the ones responsible for this?" He waved his hand at Spike's battered face. "Because maybe I need to pay them a visit." Turning, his gaze swept over the three battle trained minions who stood a short, deferential distance behind him. "Our Clan may be down, but we're not out, and assaulting one of our Heir Apparents is a crime that cannot be ignored."

Having four strange vampires standing outside her door was making the now magic-less Willow nervous, and she spoke without thinking. "Buffy didn't mean to do it. She just lost control and. . . ." Trailing off as Spike gave her a how-stupid-can-you-be look.

Heaving a sigh, Nic gazed up at the heavens. "Jesus fucking Christ! Now we have to declare war on the Slayer."

"Listen." Spike tried to pacify his uncle. "It was an accident, and Buffy's sorry about the whole incident. In fact, she's having Red here research my little health problem. So no need to start declaring war on her."

Eyes widening in surprise, Willow couldn't help but give Spike an incredulous look. She could hardly believe the vampire was defending Buffy.

"Wot?" Spike stared back at Willow. "I know she wasn't responsible for what she did. It was that nerd herd doing crazy things to her."

"Nerd herd?" Attempting to follow the conversation, Nic was racking his brain, trying to remember what a nerd herd demon looked like. "What?"

"Never mind." Spike didn't want to get into explanations. "Why are Damon and Djoser going to LA?" Body tensing as he knew that his Sire's name would be part of the answer.

"He's been seriously injured. Damon is looking after him, but. . . ."

"Injured!" A rush of guilt, remorse, and dread flowed through Spike. "Christ, I knew it." He mumbled as he stomped out of the room to grab his things. "It's all my fault too. He was just trying to fix the mess I made with those fucking Suvolte eggs."

"Suvolte eggs?" Forgetting that he had never been invited in the Summers' house, Nic tried to enter through the doorway and was stopped abruptly by an invisible barrier. Muttering an expletive in disgust, he looked questioningly at Willow. "What's this about Suvolte eggs?"

"Err, Spike was holding some Suvolte eggs for a dealer and then they hatched and Buffy had to blow them up." Although wary of the vampire outside her door, Willow didn't think it would hurt to give him an explanation. "The crypt where Spike and Djoser were living got blown up in the process, and that's why Spike is living here temporarily."

"William was holding Suvolte eggs for a dealer!" Nic exclaimed. "What a pinhead! I swear that boy is better than I am at getting into trouble. William." He bellowed now even more determined to get his nephew to LA and hand him over to Damon. "Get your ass in gear."

"I'm coming!" Trying to pull on his duster while holding the paper bag with his belongings, Spike yelled back while approaching the front door. "Keep your hair on."

"I'll tell Buffy where you went." Willow gave Spike a small uncertain smile. "And if I have any luck on my research, how should I contact you?"

"Research?" In the middle of lighting a cigarette, Nic quickly looked up. "What the fuck is she researching? Something about a health problem?"

"Ain't nothing much." Answering his uncle with a careless wave of the hand, Spike turned to Willow. "Don't worry about contacting me, luv. I'll give you a ring." With a wink, the vampire left the Slayer's house, which had been his sanctuary for the past three weeks.

**

LA, The Hyperion Hotel, November 2001

Standing in the doorway, Cordelia had come upstairs to once again check on the grieving Angel. Returning from vacation in Mexico with Groo, she had been greeted with the devastating news of Connor's abduction by Holtz into the dark dimension of Quortoth. Staring at the man she had once feared, but now respected, she couldn't help but try to comfort him in some small way. "I can't even begin to understand what it is you're feeling. The last thing you need right now is someone saying that given time, things will get better. The hurt will go away. But things won't get better. And the hurt's never going to go away."

Sitting on the bed, back to the door, Angel turned slightly to look at the young woman. Suffering and sorrow was etched on his face.

"The truth is. . . ." Cordelia continued. "If you lived another two hundred years, you'd never forget how Connor was taken from you. And you shouldn't. You loved your son, Angel. And you're going to go on loving him and missing him. And you'll go on living. You'll do that, too."

"He was the third Childe I failed." Speaking softly, Angel's whole being radiated defeat. "Three sons and they're all dead because I. . . ." Standing up, he walked over to the burned out baby crib. "I was a neglectful, terrible father."

**

Finding their way to the demon district of LA, Nic, Spike, and the minions pulled up to the prearranged rendezvous point, an old, established demon hotel. "Why don't we just announce our arrival to the Ventrues over the radio?" Nic grumbled as he got out of the car. He didn't agree with Damon that staying at this particular hotel would keep their profile low.

Jumping out of the car, the Ventrues were the last thing on Spike's mind. He was just anxious to see Djoser. Running into the hotel lobby, he ignored the stares of the other patrons. Even other demons found him a sight; a small, thin vampire with bleached hair and a bruised, swollen face, carrying a brown paper bag.

Reaching the lobby, Spike opened his mouth to demand the room numbers where his uncle and the rest of the clan were staying when he realized he didn't know what name or names Damon had used to register in the hotel. Turning his head, he started to yell out to Nic when a minion stepped up to him.

"My Prince." The minion tried to take the paper bag. "Come with me."

"Hey!" Pulling the bag away from the other vampire, Spike protested in a loud voice. "Keep your hands off my stuff, stupid git. Where's my uncle and my brother?" Anxiousness and worry only raised the volume in his tone. "Take me to them *now*."

"William." Damon, who like the rest of the hotel had heard Spike's entrance, appeared at the head of the hotel staircase. "I've been awaiting you. Come up here, and you can see Djoser."

"Yeah, and stop making a fucking spectacle of yourself." Nic mumbled under his breath as he followed Spike up the stairs.

Hearing what his uncle muttered, Spike turned his head as he climbed the stairs. "I heard that. And I'll do whatever the fuck I please, and there isn't anything you can do about it."

"William." Speaking in a soft, calm voice, Damon took a hold of Spike's arm, stopping his tirade. "Come this way."

"Christ, is it nice to have that brat back." Nic again mumbled under his breath.

"Your brother was captured and tortured by Snow and his human allies. " Leading Spike into a hotel room, Damon was studying his nephew from head to toe.

"Nic already told me what happened." Breaking away from his uncle, Spike let out a cry as he ran to Djoser, lying unconscious on one of the beds.

"My Prince." The healer turned and stood between Spike and the bed. "Your brother is extremely fragile. It would be better if you did not touch him."

"Fucking hell." Falling on his knees alongside the bed, Spike lightly stroked Djoser's hand. "This is all my bloody fault. Bleeding Suvolte eggs."

"Suvolte eggs?" Damon turned to Nic.

"Genius here," Nic motioned at Spike. "was holding Suvolte eggs for a dealer. The Slayer blew them up, and that's why Djoser was in Nevada. He was hunting some demons for this dealer to pay for the lost Suvolte eggs."

To Damon's credit, he managed to keep his face expressionless, but his body did jerk a little with shock at his nephew's stupidity. "I think. . . ." He began as he once again studied Spike. "Childe, what happened to your face?"

"The Slayer happened to his face." Nic explained helpfully.

This time Damon couldn't help but grimace a bit. "I think it's time for us to pay Angelus a visit. He needs to know what's been going on with his Childer."

"He doesn't give a royal fuck about us." Now holding Djoser's hand gently, Spike told this to his uncles with bitterness in his voice. "*He* never even tried to find us after we left him."

"So I've been told." Damon still spoke in a quiet voice, but his eyes were flickering gold. The only sign in his demeanor of the anger that was beginning to rise in him. "But if it is true that Angelus' negligence was deliberate, then perhaps our High Master should be relieved of his responsibilities."

**

After sending Cordelia and the rest of the humans away, Angel still hadn't moved from the burnt out suite in the Hyperion hotel. Sitting alone, his only company were the destructive thoughts that kept running through his head.

'My family is gone. All of them, and I should join them now.'

Closing his eyes, images of Connor, William, Djoser, and his brothers flashed through his mind. Standing up he walked over to the window.

'I'm so tired, but the sun will be up in a few hours, and I will be there to meet it.'

The sound of someone entering the front door of the Hyperion interrupted Angel's contemplations. His first thought was that Cordelia or Lorne had returned, but his superior sense of smell picked up the unmistakable odor of other vampires.

"Ventrues!" He spoke softly to himself. "I wondered when they would come for me."

Picking up a half-charred axe from the floor, Angel strode determinedly to the door. 'I can die by the sun, or I can die by the Ventrues. But if it is going to be the Ventrues, I can sure take a few of them with me.'

****

Author's Note: The conversation that Nic remembers about Snow is the conversation he had with Alex in BL, The Rebirth, Part 27.

Dedication: To DarkCharm and Souless_Angel85, my two most loyal supporters.

~Part: 12~

Following Damon out of the room, Nic stopped him in the hotel hallway. "Just what exactly are you planning to do?"

"I'm going to save what's left of our pitiful clan." Turning to face his brother, Damon's eyes still flickered gold.

"By doing what?" An awful feeling had settled in the pit of Nic's stomach, and he dreaded what Damon's answer would be.

"By overthrowing Angelus and. . .his Consort." Damon spat the last word out with hatred.

"Holy Jesus Christ." Staring up at the ceiling, Nic was beginning to wonder if running from the Ventrues had really been such a bad way of life. "Have you lost your fucking mind? We can't. . .you can't overthrow Angelus! He's the last Pure Blood of our Clan. According to our laws, it's his right to be the Clan's High Master."

"Then perhaps our laws should be rewritten." Face rigid, Damon said this in a harsh voice.

"And you think. . . ." Nic was remembering Djoser's assertion that Damon wanted the position of High Master for himself. "That you can defeat both Angelus and Darla? Darla may not be a Bloodline vampire, but she's old, powerful, and her ability to bear childer gives her some protected status. Kill her and you'll have a lot of pissed off vampires after you, including Judelin."

"Judelin's already our enemy. And as far as other vampires," Damon shrugged carelessly, "they don't concern me."

"Goddamn you! You're talking about coup d'etat, and I won't be part of it."

"You don't have to be." Damon turned to walk away. "Your job will be to stay here and guard the Clan's Blood-Childer. You've already been named Sponsor of Djoser and William. Well, I'm naming you Sponsor of my Childe too. *Don't* let anything happen to them. They're the future of our Clan."

**

Lying on the bed next to Djoser, Spike carefully wrapped a protective arm around his brother's chest. It was his way of making sure that nothing more would happen to his elder sibling.

"Need anything?" A voice behind him asked.

Turning his head, Spike looked over his shoulder at his cousin Christian. Staring at the less-than-a-year-old vampire, he couldn't help but notice that Christian had changed. The serious, thin young man appeared happier. "Looking good, mate. Put on some weight?"

"Yeah." Christian said with a smile "I guess a blood diet suits me better than a human one. But I can't say that you or. . . ." He waved a hand at Djoser. "Your brother are looking too good."

"Yeah." Letting his head fall down on the pillow, Spike answered with a sigh. "Fucked up majorly, I did."

"You fucked up majorly, or your. . .and I might be punished for saying this, or your Sire fucked up?"

"His Sire?" Nic sauntered into the room carrying a shot of tequila and a mug of heated human blood. The blood was for sustenance; the tequila was to dull the conflicted feeling he had regarding what Damon had set out to do. "The Great Angelus never fucks up, or didn't you know that?"

"I want some of that." Spike had lifted his head again and was eying the shot glass in his uncle's hand.

"You hungry?" Nic immediately turned toward the door. "I'll have a minion warm you up some blood."

Spike scowled at his uncle. "Don't want blood. I want whatever you have in that shot glass."

"You look like shit, so you ain't getting any booze." Sitting himself into the nearest chair, Nic carefully set his mug and shot glass down on the small hotel table. "You can have blood. It's human, you know."

"Human?" Surprised, Spike turned his head to look at Christian. "Your old man is allowing human blood?"

"Some." Christian answered with a grin. "Right now it's available courtesy of an ex-Council member boss of mine. Remember Jack Hawkins, Snow's human ally? We captured the human trash, and he's presently missing a tongue. My Sire promised me one new body part of his every week."

"Bloody nice of him." Spike thought of the one gift Angel had ever given him, Elder Snow's eyeball. "By the way, I heard that Snow was one of those responsible for. . . ." He tightened his arms slightly around Djoser. "This crime against my brother. Is he dust, or is he too being tortured somewhere for his sins?"

Smile leaving his face, Christian could only stare down at the floor in embarrassment. "Bleeding nonce got away."

"Got away!" Not thinking, Spike quickly turned to face his cousin. His sharp movement jostled Djoser who did not wake up but moaned in protest.

"William!" Nic's voice was sharp with rebuke. "Get off the fucking bed and leave your brother in peace."

"Sorry." Whispering softly in Djoser's ear, Spike patted his brother gently. "I'll lie still now, but I'm going to stay here, so I can protect you."

Rolling his eyes, Nic couldn't help but comment. "He needs your protection like he needs another hole in the head."

"Another hole. . . ?" Catching his uncle's meaning, Spike took a close look at Djoser's injuries.

"They nailed spikes in his head." Christian's voice conveyed his sympathy.

"Bloody motherfuckers! I'll. . . ." Spike didn't finish his threat. "And the leader himself managed to avoid capture again." Closing his eyes, he thought about Snow and the hatred and fear boiled inside of him.

"How is it that your Sire let Snow get away?" Nic had already heard about Snow's lucky escape, and it amazed him that the dodgy vampire had managed to slip through both Angelus' and Damon's fingers.

"My Sire was busy going after Hawkins." Christian explained. "He had assigned a couple of his best fighters to target Elder Snow, but Snow defeated them and got away.

"Either that fucker is the luckiest son-of-a-bitch alive, or should I say undead, or. . . ." Nic trailed off as suddenly an old conversation he had with Alex popped into his mind.

"Or what?" Now lying on his back, Spike still had a hand resting on Djoser.

"Or. . . ." Nic was thoughtful as he realized that he needed to talk to one or both of his older brothers. But as things stood now, he didn't know if either one of them would ever be returning. "Nothing. Just some crazy thinking."

"So did my Sire tell you how he plans to approach our High Master?" Christian was curious and slightly disappointed, as his father had not even said goodbye to him.

"Err." Nic debated a moment. Lie or tell the truth?

Also an accomplished liar, Spike could read his uncle like a book. "Be honest with us, mate. We deserve it."

Calling for a minion, Nic wanted more tequila. If he was going to confess the truth to his nephews, he would need more fortification.

**

Entering the Hyperion, Damon stood a moment, surveying the lobby. Behind him were three minions. Their orders were to take Darla back to the their hotel and hold her there. Nic was right; killing her would upset too many of his people, but perhaps a deal with Judelin could be made with her. The Ventrue Master would love to have the prolific vampiress added to his clan. And in return, perhaps he would agree to stop hostilities with The Tremeren Clan. A happy solution for all.

Using his senses, Damon tried to determine who and how many were inhabiting the hotel, but the building was too large. He knew it was impossible to know for sure. "Do a reconnaissance." He ordered two of his minions. "But stay together, and if you come across Angelus and Darla, don't try and fight them. Run away and come get me."

"Master." Bowing their heads, the two vampires headed for the stairs.

Walking around the lobby, a large, red pentagram on the floor caught Damon's attention. Studying it carefully, he sniffed the air, smelling traces of humans, other demons, his brother Angelus', but nothing of Darla, which surprised him. Surely the vampiress would have stamped her scent all over the lair.

**

Like a shadow, he entered the lobby without being detected. It was his lair, and he knew how to move around it unseen. Anyone, even the Ventrue High Master himself, who dared to enter his liar without permission would know his fury. Battle-ax in hand, Angel was ready to wage war.

Approaching the trespasser from behind, he raised the ax, ready to split the enemy's head open, when the man turned, finally sensing his presence. "Damon." Angel whispered in shock, letting the ax fall from his hands. "Damon, my brother, how happy I am to see you."

"Is that so?" Damon stood stiffly, his hostility evident. "After I'm done with you, I can assure you that you won't be happy that I'm here."

**

"We need to go there now." After listening to Nic, Spike found he couldn't lie still any longer and was now pacing around the hotel room. "We need to stop this."

"It can't be stopped, boy." Nic grabbed the tequila bottle and poured himself another shot. "It's what our Clan does best - kill each other."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Worried and afraid, Spike snapped out his question.

"What do you think it means, Mr-I-killed-my-uncle-the-Annointed-One-so-that-I-could-take-over-the-vamps-in-Sunnydale. Throughout history, we Tremerens seem to be good at only one thing, fighting among each other for power and position."

"So if Angelus kills my father?" Christian asked in a quiet voice. He, like Spike, was upset and frightened.

"Then Angelus remains in power with Darla by his side, and your Sire is dust."

Spike exchanged concerned looks with Christian. "And if Damon kills my Sire?"

"Then he becomes High Master, and. . .and. . . ." Nic waved his hand over at Christian. "He becomes the Clan's Successor."

"This is crazy." Christian looked from Spike to Nic. "I'm just a fledge. I shouldn't be the Successor."

"And what if. . . ." A horrible thought occurred to Spike. "They kill each other?"

A few seconds of silence as the three vampires looked at each other, contemplating that idea.

"Then. . . ." Nic began slowly. "Angelus' new Pure Blood-Childe becomes High Master with. . .with Darla as his Regent." Jumping up from his chair, the vampire was now convinced. "Jesus fucking Christ! We've got to stop them!"

**

"And Darla?" Body ready for battle, Damon circled Angel, never taking his eyes off his brother.

"Darla?" Confused, Angel could feel his brother's hostility but had no idea for its reason.

"Yes, your Consort." Damon sneered out the word consort.

"Darla is dead." Angel answered softly, watching Damon closely. Despite the fact that the other vampire was his brother, he sensed a possible attack, and the Scourge of Europe was never one to be caught with his guard down. "She died in childbirth."

Caught totally by surprise Damon's eyes widened in shock. "How ironic." He whispered softly. "The celebrated Darla, famous for her ability to bear childer, and it's that very ability that would be her death. . .you three." Without turning, Damon heard his two minions returning from their reconnaissance. "Go outside and guard the entrance. Make sure that no one interrupts the meeting I'm going to have with our High Master."

"Damon, what the hell is going. . . ?" Angel never got to finish his sentence as suddenly his brother attacked, grabbing him by the shirt and throwing him head first into the Hyperion's front desk.

"You stupid son-of-a-bitch!" Giving his temper free reign, Damon went wild. Pulling the stunned Angel up by the back of the shirt, he continued his attack by banging his brother's head a few more times into the desk's pedestal. "You haven't learned anything from our Sire's mistakes, just continued the same ignorant behavior."

Enraged at such disrespect, Angel's own temper flared. Vamping out, he growled ferociously. His younger brother was soon to feel his wrath!

**

Nic's entrance into the Hyperion was momentarily blocked by three minions. "My Liege, you cannot enter right now. We have orders. . . ." The head minion broke off as Spike and Christian came up from behind with Djoser still comatose on a stretcher. They had all agreed that Djoser, despite his condition shouldn't be left behind.

"I don't have time to argue with you." Nic spoke quietly. "We're going in with or without your. . . ."

He didn't have time to finish his sentence, as Spike rushed up, grabbing two of the minions and knocking their heads together. "Why are you even explaining yourself to these pissants?" He asked Nic as he glared at the third minion, daring him to try anything.

"Because having them out here able bodied does protect our perimeter. . .idiot." Nic mumbled the last word quietly. "Stay here." He ordered the third minion while turning to the Clan's healer who was there to supervise Djoser. "See to them." He motioned toward the two staggered vampires. "Give them some ice for their heads or something."

"Come on." Spike urged his uncle and cousin. "We're wasting time."

"Okay." Nic laid out his strategy as he, Spike, Christian, and two minions carrying Djoser made their way to the Hyperion's front doors. "But it's probably going to take the three of us to separate them. And if Darla is there. . . ?"

"I'll take care of Darla." Spike interrupted a determined look on his face. "You." He addressed Christian. "Grab your old man, and you." He spoke to Nic. "Take Angelus."

"Wait just a fucking minute." Nic hesitated at the front entrance. "Who the hell voted that I'm the one who gets Angelus?"

**

Bloody and beaten, Angel and Damon struggled to their feet. They had been fighting for what seemed like an eternity, and both were exhausted.

"You dare." Angel wanted to sound formidable but was hindered by the fact that he could barely gasp out the words. "You dare to challenge me, your elder and High Master? You've lost your mind."

"Maybe I have." Damon too was finding that forcing words out of his mouth to be a great effort. "But to go and abandon two beautiful sons just because your *whore* gives you a Pure Blood is an offense I cannot forgive."

"What do you mean abandon?" Holding himself up by leaning on the front desk, Angel had no idea what Damon was talking about. How did one abandon Childer who were dead?

"What do I mean?" Bent over, hands on knees, Damon found he couldn't stand up straight. "I find Djoser running around. . . ."

Before Damon could finish his explanation, three vampires came bursting through the front doors, followed by minions carrying a stretcher.

"Alright you two." Nic tried to put some authority into his voice. "Stop this fucking around. We're in enough trouble with the Ventrues surrounding us. We don't need. . . ."

"William." Interrupting his younger brother, Angel found himself falling to his knees, as he stared at his beloved Childe who he had thought dead. "William, my Childe, and. . . ." Taking a good look at the new arrivals, he also noticed the maimed body of his eldest. "Djoser." A strangled whisper as the High Master of the Tremeren Clan tried to process the information that his two Childer were alive. "They told me you were dead." Still kneeling, his eyes met Spike's.

Seven months worth of anger and fear at Angel started to spill out of Spike, but they quickly died in his throat as he saw tears, large tears running down his Sire's face and falling to the hotel floor.

~Part: 13~

Moments of silence as the occupants of the room were stunned by the sight of their High Master, the Scourge of Europe on his knees, head bent, tears streaming down his face.

"You thought them dead?" Damon was the first to speak.

"Wesley!" Still on his hands and knees, Angel fought to regain control, as his voice shook with bitterness and hate. "That son-of-a-bitch. He lied to me about Djoser and William, telling me they were dead, and then he took Connor from me too. He wanted all my Childer dead, but he'll pay." Eyes began to flash gold. "He'll die a slow, agonizing death for his betrayal. And what is this?" Head rearing up sharply, he again took in the sight of his two alive, but beat up sons.

Staring at Angel, emotions so jumbled, Spike was trying to figure out if he was angry, scared, or relieved to be reunited with his Sire. Seeing Angel stand and take a step toward him, he nervously jumped back. "And Darla?" He remembered the vampiress who had threatened both Djoser and himself, as he tried to harden his heart against the image of his Father crying for his brother and him.

"Darla is dead." Eyes that had been weeping moments before were now gold and flaring red with fury, but despite the enraged eyes, Angel's voice was soft as he spoke to his youngest. "William, my Childe, what happened to you and your brother?"

Seeing the anger, but hearing his Sire's gentle tone confused Spike even more. Baffled and unsure of himself, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Suvolte eggs, Sire."

"Suvolte eggs?" A look of bewilderment crossed Angel's infuriated demeanor, causing Nic to raise a hand to his face to cover a grin.

"Yeah, you see, I made an agreement with this dealer to hold some Suvolte eggs for him. Well the Slayer blew them up, our lair, and all of our stuff too. We didn't have any money, and I had to pay the dealer off for the blown-up Suvolte eggs, so Djoser made another deal to pay off what I owed for the eggs." Still unsettled over being back with Angel, Spike rambled out an explanation. "If he brought back a couple of Ahji demons, then my debt would be wiped out. So Djoser. . . ."

"Are you telling me that my eldest went bounty hunting for a dealer?" Stepping over to Djoser, Angel knelt down to study his injured Childe.

"I told him not to go." Still feeling guilty over his brother, Spike was quick to point out that he had tried to stop Djoser. "I told him that a Childe of the Bloodline shouldn't stoop to bounty hunting."

Running gentle hands over his eldest, Angel assessed his injuries. "He's in bad shape. How is it possible that Ahji demons could do this much damage to him? They're strong but incompetent as fighters. Djoser could handle a pack of them easily." Although his voice conveyed confusion, it also conveyed pride. Angel was well aware of how skilled Djoser was in battle.

"It wasn't Ahji demons that did that." Damon walked to the front door to wave the healer and minions to enter. "Snow and his followers were the ones responsible."

"Snow!" Seeing Djoser so mangled awoke a protective, paternal emotion that Angel had never felt for his eldest. His first Childe had always been so strong, so self-sufficient that he had never felt the need to act fatherly with him. "Another son-of-a-bitch I have to take care of! I guess taking *one* of his eyes wasn't enough." Leaning down, he tenderly kissed his injured son. "My Childe, how I missed you and your brother."

Angel's action and words came from his heart, and nothing more was needed to convince Damon and Nic that their brother had not meant to abandon his Childer.

"We have one of the perpetrators." Damon gestured toward the tied-up, pitiful figure of Jack Hawkins who was being dragged in by two minions. The man was pale, head lolling around because his neck was too weak to hold it up. The once cocky, demon hunter had been reduced to a whimpering mass of skin and bone.

"And Snow?" Growling this out, Angel picked up the motionless hand of Djoser and held it in his own.

"He defeated a couple of my best fighters and escaped." An uncharacteristic look of embarrassment crossed Damon's face. It was rare that he would have such a failure.

"You let him get away?" Kissing Djoser's hand, Angel turned his head to look at his brother. "He tortures the Clan's Successor and then is allowed to get away?"

"I guess I'm as guilty of incompetence as you were." Damon rubbed the beginning of a bruised lump on his forehead, as he grinned slightly. "Since he escaped from you too."

For the first time since Holtz had kidnapped Connor into the hell dimension Quortoth Angel permitted himself a smile. "My brother, after today, I believe you are my equal, if not my superior in some ways." Gathering Djoser against his chest, he cradled his oldest for a moment, before standing up with him in his arms. "William, come with me. Damon and Nic. . . ." Glancing at his brothers, he bowed his head slightly to them, showing his respect. "Secure the lair."

**

Warily following Angel up the stairs, Spike obediently did what he had been ordered. His Sire was holding his brother, and wherever Djoser went, he was determined to go too. Reaching the top the of stairs, he brushed past Angel and walked ahead of him. It lessened the appearance of him following his Sire like a submissive puppy.

"Not there." His Sire's voice stopped him as he automatically headed for the small suite where he and Djoser had lived with Angel.

"Not here? But. . . ." Breaking off as the door swung open and the sight of a scorched out room flashed in front of him. It was the charred baby crib that caught his attention. "What? Did Wesley burn the baby up in his bed?" Spike's voice was filled with shock. That was an act even a demon would find repulsive.

"No, there was an earthquake that caused a fire. It was afterward that Wesley. . . ." It was still a painful subject for Angel. "He'll pay." He grimly repeated as he lead the way to another room. "But tell me Childe, who injured you so?"

"Err. . . ." Spike quickly weighed the pros and cons of lying or telling the truth. Tell the truth, and there would be a uproar against Buffy which he wanted to avoid. After all, she had given Djoser and him sanctuary and help. Lying was his preference, but since his uncles knew the truth, it wouldn't take much to be found out. He figured a convoluted explanation would be his best bet, since Angel usually ran out of patience before he actually had to admit anything. "Well you see, there's these three nerds in Sunnydale, Warren. . . ." Having no idea of the names of the other two, he just made them up. "Bert and Ernie. And they decided to take over Sunnydale, and. . . ."

"You were beat up by three humans?" Stopping in front of a closed door, Angel motioned with his head for Spike to open it.

"Humans!" Spike was offended. "NO, I wasn't wasted by those three nerds. You think I'm that much of a nancy-boy? Anyway, Warren, Bert, and Ernie were. . . ."

"William." Carefully lying Djoser down on a bed, Angel reined in his impatience. "Just get to the point and tell me *who* assaulted you."

"I'm getting to the point!" His confused emotions forgotten for a minute, as Spike went into 'quarrelsome mode.' "If you would just stop interrupting me. Anyway, the nerd herd, that's the name we call. . . ."

"William! WHO!" Angel had all he could endure.

Spike hadn't forgotten the red fury in Angel's eyes a short time ago. The last time he saw his Sire that enraged was in Sunnydale when they had battled Snow and the goddess Glory. Good sense told him that he had better not push his Father anymore. "Buffy." He finally admitted. "But it wasn't her fault. The nerds made her do it."

"Buffy!" Deliberately turning his back to Spike, Angel pretended to busy himself by arranging the covers over Djoser.

Not being able to see Angel's expression caught Spike off-guard, as he tried to peer around to get a glimpse of his Sire's expression. "You can't blame Buffy. Those nerds were doing all sorts of wacko things to her, making her see stuff that wasn't there, making time repeat itself, making. . . ."

"My Childe." Interrupting, Angel turned back around, studying Spike's bruised and swollen face. "Look what happens to you when you and your brother aren't with me." A gentle finger tilted his Childe's head up. "Why did you leave?"

Shuffling his feet, Spike was again thrown. His Sire's abrupt change of moods was keeping him off balance. "Darla. She had her henchmen attack us."

"Attacked you? Assaulting a Blood-Childe is a crime punishable by a painful death. You and your brother know that. Why didn't you come and tell me this right away?"

"Because. . . ." Momentarily baffled, Spike thought hard, trying to recall why he and Djoser had not at least tried to talk to Angel before running off. "Because you wouldn't have believed us." Remembering, he couldn't help but say this with a triumphant voice. "You would have just believed Darla's lies, and. . . ."

"Darla was my Sire, and she certainly influenced me in many ways, but I've learned to see exactly who and what she was. I would have believed you and Djoser over her. The two of you still have no faith in me, do you?"

"No." Staring down at his feet, Spike found he couldn't continue to look Angel in the eyes because what he saw there gave him hope, and hope only led to bitter disillusionment. He was *not* going to feel for his Sire again.

**

Exiting the juice bar, Charles, Cordelia, Fred, and Lorne hurriedly made their way across the street back to the Hyperion. "So what did Mr. Sandman say before he. . .he. . . ." Gunn had no words to describe how the late Mr. Spivey had died.

"He mentioned Angel's name, saying it was all his fault." Speeding up, Cordelia was now at a trot so she could keep up with the taller, longer legged Gunn and Lorne.

"And what was that. . .that thing that ran out of his body?" Lorne asked the others.

"A big, ugly slug thing." Fred, like Cordelia, was jogging to keep up with the men.

"We need to talk to Angel." Gunn said as the foursome reached the other side of the street where the Hyperion stood. "Hang on." He stopped Cordelia, Fred, and Lorne from continuing on into the hotel. Years of hunting vampires had honed the young man's danger sense.

"Charles. . . ?" Coming to a stop, Fred looked nervously over at Gunn. "What's wrong?"

Squinting into the darkness, Gunn could see shapes, many shapes outside and inside the hotel. "We've got visitors. A lot of them."

"Angel!" That was the first desperate thought that crossed Cordelia's mind. "We've got to help him." Starting for the hotel, she was abruptly pulled back by a strong hand.

"Angel's no dope." Holding her tightly, Gunn reasoned with her. "He wouldn't just walk into an ambush. Let's put a little distance between us and those unwelcome visitors and then call Angel on his cell phone. He's probably close by, waiting for us to get here."

"Let's just hope he remembered to turn his cell phone on." Fred muttered this quietly as she turned to follow the other three.

**

"William." Angel reached out a hand to caress Spike. He hoped his physical touch would convince his Childe to believe in him. "William, my Childe, my son, I know I've. . . ."

A knock on the door broke the conversation off. "What?" Angel snarled out, angry that he had been interrupted.

"Master." A minion carrying a tray with two warmed up mugs of blood cautiously opened the door. "Your brother sent this up for you and the Prince. It's our human prisoner's blood."

"Set it on dresser." Angel snapped this out. Feeding was the last thing on his mind, as at the moment his sole focus was on mending his relationship with William. "And then get ou. . . ." The ringing of his cell phone interrupted him again. "Goddamn it!" He swore angrily, looking around the room, trying to remember where he had put his cell phone. "Find my phone." He barked out at the poor minion.

Spike watched Angel and the minion scrambling around the room, throwing clothes around in order to locate the ringing phone. Lighting a cigarette, he smirked to himself. His Sire was a fish out of water in this century; a Neanderthal who was better suited to a time past when life followed a simple rule, 'only the strong will survive.'

Spying his phone on the floor in the corner of the room, Angel grabbed it up quickly. "Yeah." The person on the phone was Cordelia, and she was babbling on about a man turning to dust, slug like creatures, and intruders in the Hyperion. Rubbing his brow, he felt a headache coming on. There was no way around it, he would have to deal with the humans now.

**

Sitting on the bed opposite where Djoser lie, Spike watched his brother sleep. He wanted to join Djoser in the bigger bed but knew that wasn't an option. With his thrashing in his sleep, he knew he would disturb or even hurt his brother.

With a sigh, Spike lay down, wishing Djoser would wake up. His Sire was confusing him, and he needed someone to talk to. Closing his eyes, a profound weariness overcame him and drawing the covers around him, he fell into a uneasy sleep.

**

"Oh great." Gunn observed as he, Cordelia, Fred, and Lorne stood in the middle of the Hyperion lobby looking at all the vampires milling around. "Angel's reunited with his family. The Addams Family of vampires."

"Listen, guys." Angel could feel his headache pounding behind his eyes. "No hard feelings this time, but I'm going to have to fire all of you again. You see my Childer and my brothers have returned to me, and. . . ."

"Angel." Cordelia interrupted him. "I'm. . .we're happy that Djoser and William are back and not dusted dead, but this Spivey guy mentioned your name before he. . .he crumbled away. He said it was *your* fault."

"My fault?" Angel's headache pounded harder. "I don't know anyone named Spivey."

"It a price." Lorne told them all. "You're paying the price for messing with the powers of darkness."

"You mean the spell I did to try and get Connor back?" Looking over at the Anagogic demon, Angel felt both his brothers step up closer, listening intently to their conversation.

"Bingo." Lorne managed a weak smile, but Angel, with his two fierce looking brothers standing behind him, was a daunting sight.

"I don't regret it." Angel's voice was quiet. "It didn't get my son back, but it was worth it. Every and any kind of consequence is worth it."

"Fine and dandy then." Folding her arms across her chest, Cordelia stared straight at Angel. "There's a slug like demon that's running around LA that worms into people and turns them into mummies. A consequence of your spell, and you need to do something about it."

"Cordelia, what did I just say?" Angel began to object again when Damon spoke up.

"I can send out a scout team to search for this slug demon."

Head whipping around, Angel stared at his brother in surprise. Damon was the last person he figured to help humans.

"Come back here tomorrow at sunset, and we'll give you a report." Damon graciously addressed the Angel Investigation employees.

Having been the one to force the issue with Angel, Cordelia could not refuse the offer, as she gave the rest of the gang a meaningful look. "Ok, we will. Oh, and." She added helpfully. "Start with the juice bar across the street, that's where Mr. Sluggo Demon was last seen."

"And you don't worry about my minions." Angel noted the apprehensive expressions on the humans' faces. "I'll give instructions that none of you are to be harmed in any way. But I will request that you refrain from attacking my people." While saying this, he deliberately stared at Gunn.

"Right." Gunn stared back. "We'll be back tomorrow. You can count on it."

**

Leaving the Hyperion, the foursome made their way to Gunn's truck. "So where you gonna bunk?" Charles asked Lorne.

"You can sleep on my couch." Cordelia offered. "That is, if you're not afraid of ghosts."

"Sweetie, you're a life saver." Not being able to stay at the Hyperion, Lorne was left homeless. "But crapola." The horned demon stopped in his tracks. "I left my clothes, toothbrush, and other assorted toiletries back there." He pointed at the hotel.

"You wanna go back?" Gunn asked him. "Cause we'll wait for you."

Pausing for a moment, Lorne had been hoping for a better offer. "I would prefer an escort. An armed escort."

"Can we just stop and pick up some things at the store for you?" Fred asked. None of the four were anxious to return to the vampire lair at the moment.

"Well. . . ." Lorne began, but a dark figure approaching them stopped whatever more he was going to say.

"Need you people to give me some information." Alone, Nic stopped a few feet from the group.

"I remember you." Gunn gave Nic the once over. "We searched LA together for Angel's brat last February."

"You mean Spike, right?" Cordelia asked.

"He was correct the first time." Nic waved his hand at Gunn. "The brat. Anyway, what I need you people to tell me, is what exactly is going on with Wesley?"

~Part: 14~

Returning to the bedroom, Angel was happy to see that both Childer were safe and sleeping soundly. Picking up one of the mugs on top of the dresser, he stared into it, grimacing with distaste at the now cooled, congealing blood. He debated whether he should drink it or call for a minion to bring him fresh, when a tap on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Come." He called out, hoping it was a minion because then his problem would be solved. But the person who entered was Damon.

"I sent a scouting party out. Their orders are to search the juice bar first and then spread out and search the surrounding area within a ten mile radius." Damon gave his report and then peered over at what Angel was holding in his hand. "You're not going to drink that, are you? It's no good anymore."

"It's still good." Make a decision, Angel took a large mouthful of blood and then resisted the urge to spit it out. "Just a little cold."

Turning away, Damon couldn't bare to watch. "No wonder your Childer have such rotten feeding habits. They get them from you."

Throwing himself down into a chair, Angel suddenly felt tired. The adrenaline rush he had at the discovery that both Djoser and William were still alive was wearing off. His head throbbed and his whole body ached from the fight he had with Damon. "Are you criticizing my parenting skills?" He asked with a small smile.

"Yes." Damon had decided that he was no longer going to hold his tongue. It was time for honesty. "Because up until now, you've mostly been a rotten parent. You remind me of our Sire. And tell me, what exactly happened to your new Blood-Childe?"

Leaning his head against the wall, Angel closed his eyes, as once again he remembered his sorrow at the loss of Connor. "Holtz kidnapped him and fled into the dark dimension of Quortoth. I tried to break through to Quortoth but was un. . . ."

"Holtz!" Damon exclaimed, cutting Angel off. "Holtz died over two hundred years ago." Eying his brother closely, he looked for signs of insanity.

"Blame it on an ethereal time-traveling demon named Sahjhan. He brought Holtz back specifically to get rid of Connor." Looking up at Damon, Angel's expression was grim. "Wesley was in collusion with Holtz. He took Connor, saying he was going to care for him overnight and then take him to the park the next day, but instead he delivered my son to Holtz."

"So the Childe is not dead, just in another dimension?"

"There are no portals to Quortoth." Staring up at Damon, Angel had a sense that there was something more than just idle curiosity to his brother's question. "The only way in is to rip right through the fabric of reality. I tried that, but now, according to Lorne, there are and going to be consequences for my using such dark majiks."

"What, a slug like demon or two?" Damon scoffed with disdain. "This is LA. Another demon or so won't even be noticed."

"Just what are you saying?" Again, a sense that his brother had a point.

"The Childe is your son, a Childe of the Bloodline. It is our responsibility as his Sire and uncle to make every effort to retrieve him. I think Nic has contacts in Mexico. We should investigate more possibilities."

Eyes widening in surprise, Angel couldn't believe his brother's change of heart. "Why are you so interested in saving Connor? I thought you were against him because he's the Childe of Darla?"

"A childe can't be held responsible for his parentage." Damon smiled slightly. "I don't blame. . .Connor for anything. I just don't think he should be given special treatment because he is a Pure Blood. If he is to be named Successor over Djoser, let him prove himself first. Let him prove that he is superior to Djoser."

Standing up, Angel stood toe-to-toe with Damon. "So this is your grievance? A Pure Blood versus a Half Blood. According to our laws, Pure Bloods have always been at the top."

"And that's how you think?" Damon eyed Angel curiously. "So Djoser should be pushed aside just because he happened to have a human mother? With perilous odds against him, he's survived all this time. Survived without his Sire and even managed to take care of William. He's been more of a father to William than you ever were."

Temper automatically beginning to rise, Angel didn't like his brother to speak to him so. "Don't you dare. . . ."

"Dare what? Speak the truth?" Damon stood tall. He had challenged Angel before, and he was more than ready to challenge him again. "Sometimes the truth needs to be said. No one ever had the courage to tell our Sire the truth - that he made grave mistakes in many of the decisions regarding his family and Clan. And look at the results, he's dust, along with many of our people. Follow his example, and you'll just finish what he started - the annihilation of the Tremeren Bloodline."

"No." Lowering his head, Angel's temper immediately abated. "I don't want to be like our Sire. I don't want. . . ." Breaking off, he turned away. "The idea that I would declare Connor my Successor over Djoser was never an issue. When Connor was born, I believed both Djoser and William to be dead."

"These are decisions that need to be made." Eyes narrowing, Damon stared at Angel's back. "And you as High Master have to make them. But I warn you, unless this Connor really is the miracle Childe that everyone says he is, I will continue my support of Djoser as Successor."

"Connor is dead!" Angel spun around to face Damon again. "So why are we even having this conversation?"

"We don't know that for certain, and like I said, Nic knows a lot of people in this part of the world. Surely, he'll be able to find someone who is knowledgeable in the black arts. The Childe entered that dimension, so there has got to be a way in for us as well."

"No." His brother's words were so tempting, but Angel knew now that finding Connor was a lost cause. "Even if Connor is still alive, and even if we were able to find a way into Quortoth, it would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. It's not worth the risk. You're right. I need to start thinking of the Clan and our Bloodline. Our future is lying right here." He motioned first to a sleeping Djoser and then to Spike. "*They* need to be protected, along with your Childe. I'm not going to take any more chances. As soon as Djoser is well enough to travel, we'll go to Germany and our lair. We'll stay there as long as the Ventrues continue to be a threat to us."

"According to the demon grapevine, the Council is now negotiating a treaty with the Ventures. If they come to an agreement, the Ventrues might be a threat to us for quite some time."

"So I guess we learn to live underground for. . . ." Angel sighed deeply. "For perhaps the rest of our existence."

**

The doctor's manner was brusque and professional. He addressed Wesley while reading and making notes in the hospital chart. "How are we feeling today? I know it's been very rough, but I do have some good news. There no longer seems to be any sign of infection or re-bleeding in the wound, and the swelling is going down. We can stop worrying about your airway becoming compromised. I'm going to release you later today. Is there someone that can pick you up? A friend or a family member we can call?"

Staring straight ahead, Wesley had no answer for the doctor. With bitterness he realized that all the people he considered to be his family had abandoned him. Thinking hard, he tried to remember a name or number of an old informer or contact. For the right amount of money, anyone of them could pretend to be a friend, just so the doctor would release him. The former Watcher had no intention of staying any longer in the hospital. "I. . . ." He croaked out. "Let me see who's available to. . . ."

Wesley was interrupted by the entrance of Nic, who wore a confident, smug expression. "Wes, just found out what happened. Why the hell didn't you call and tell me you were in the hospital? Would have stopped by sooner. Hey, doc." The vampire gave the doctor his most disarming smile. "How's the patient doing?"

"He's better." The doctor again briefly scanned Wesley's chart. "In fact, I'm going to discharge him today, but we need to know that he's not going to be left alone for a few days. A precaution, you understand."

"Well, I guess I arrived just in time." Still grinning, Nic looked over at Wesley.

Closing his eyes, a feeling of deja vu passed through Wesley, a nightmarish deja vu. This scene had been played out before, Nic bringing him home from the hospital. Part of him wanted to protest, but his brain told him to accept his fate for now. Getting out of the hospital would be easier because of Nic, so why not take advantage of the vampire?

**

Leaning over an unconscious Djoser, Angel pressed strong fingers alongside his Childe's mouth, getting the lips to relax. Holding his wrist to his son's mouth, he dripped blood from a large gash.

Drops of blood trickled into Djoser's mouth, landing on his tongue and dribbling down his throat. The strength of his Sire's blood began to arouse the vampire out of his deep coma. Coughing, he defensively tried to shove Angel away from him.

"Djoser!" Using a commanding tone, Angel spoke to his eldest. "Wake up, Childe. You've slept long enough."

Still not totally aware of where he was or whom he was with, Djoser continued to flail weakly. "Don't touch me! Leave me. . . ."

"DJOSER." Grabbing his Childe by the shoulders, Angel held him in a firm grip. "You're safe in your Sire's lair. Now, wake up."

Eyes slowly opening, Djoser became fully conscious. "Sire?" He whispered, brow creasing as he had no understanding as to how he came to be with Angel.

"Yes, Childe. It is I." Relaxing his grasp, Angel sat down on the bed next to Djoser. "You need to feed." He once again held a bleeding wrist to his Childe's mouth.

"No." Pushing away Angel's arm, Djoser struggled to sit up. "I'm ok. I don't need your blood."

"But you do, Childe." Pulling Djoser into a tight embrace, Angel rested his face in his son's dark hair. "Just like I need you."

Surprise kept Djoser still for a moment. He had never heard his Sire speak to him so.

"I thought you and William were dead all this time, and it devastated me." Angel continued in a gentle voice. "After you were attacked by Darla's minions, you should have come to me straight away. I would have taken care of everything. I know you don't believe that, but you should have at least given me a chance."

"Why?" Memories of Darla raised up all of Djoser's distrust and resentment. "She always came first with you. Why should I or William think anything different? And where is. . . ?" He once again tried to shove Angel away. "My brother."

"He's right here." Letting his Childe push him away, Angel looked over at a sleeping Spike.

"What happened to him?" Staring over at Spike, Djoser was alarmed at his brother's bruised and swollen face.

"I'm not sure I understand the whole story." Angel sighed as he remembered his younger Childe's incoherent account of what happened. "But something about a trio of nerds who made Buffy lose control, but it wasn't her fault and. . . ."

"The Slayer beat him up?" Anger gave Djoser enough strength to sit up straight.

"Yes, but William kept insisting it wasn't her fault." Angel could only shake his head. "Never thought I would see the day where my William became one of Buffy's staunchest defenders."

"She promised me." Djoser muttered softly. "We saved her sister, and I did countless patrols for her, and this is how she repays me?"

"Tell me." Angel was desperate to finally hear a version that he could understand.

"I had to leave William with her, so I could bring back a couple of Ahji demons for a dealer who. . . ."

"I already know about the Suvolte eggs." Angel interrupted. "Just tell me who these nerds are."

"They're three humans who. . ." Djoser thought back to what Buffy had told him about the nerds. "Seem to possess both majik and scientific knowledge. She indicated to me that she wasn't too worried about them. Said they were more of a pain in her ass than a danger."

"So the Slayer assaulted one of my Blood-Childer without just cause?" Angel's expression turned forbidding.

"We had a deal." Djoser let himself lie back against the bed pillows. "We were to help each other out. She promised to take care of William for me, not beat him up."

"You need to get well then, Childe." Leaning down, Angel again offered Djoser his wrist. "So that you can go to Sunnydale and settle things with the Slayer."

"Me?" Djoser couldn't keep the surprise off his face. "You're the Master here. Won't you be going to go to Sunnydale to deal with her?"

"You're my Successor, and you had the arrangement with the Slayer. If she broke a promise and betrayed you by physically harming your brother, then my decision is to let you and William determine her fate."

"I'm your Successor? What about the new Childe?" Looking around the room, Djoser searched for signs of Darla and the newborn.

"Darla is dead." Angel still held his wrist out. "And Connor was kidnapped and taken into a hell dimension."

"Hell dimension?" Feeling a little foolish, Djoser realized he was parroting everything his Sire was saying. "So, you're in the middle of planning a rescue?"

"No, Childe." Leaning closer, Angel pressed his wrist to Djoser's mouth. "The odds say that he's probably dead by now, and I'm not going to risk you, your brother, and Damon's Childe to wishful thinking. Keeping the three of you safe is my first priority."

This time Djoser took Angel's offer and latched on to the proffered wrist. He had never before been considered a first priority with his Sire.

**

Entering his dark apartment, Wesley fumbled for the light switch. "Just set the box down." He rasped to Nic. Speaking was still painful. "And then get out."

"Jeez, Wes." Nic walked over and set the box down on the table. "Someone's mother was lax in the good manners department."

"I didn't ask for your help." Wesley just wanted the vampire to leave. "You offered, and I took your offer." Walking over to a cabinet, he turned his back to Nic. "And that's all there is to it."

"Is it?" Folding his arms across his chest, Nic stared at Wesley's back. "Before I leave, I just want to know one thing, why did you betray us?"

"Betray you?" Wesley couldn't believe what Nic had just said. "I seem to remember that you were the one who just walked, or should I say, ran away and never looked back."

"Angelus ordered me gone, and he also ordered me to stay away from you. You know my brother. One doesn't ignore an order from him. But tell me, who are you working for, the Ventures, Snow?"

Wesley turned slowly to stare back at the vampire. "You have no faith in me, just like everyone else. I didn't betray anyone. I thought I was saving Connor."

"And what about Djoser and William? Lying to Angelus that they were dead. How do you justify that?"

"What?" Wesley was dumbfounded. "You mean Djoser and Spike are alive?"

"Well." Nic flashed a cheerless smile. "I wouldn't use the word alive, more like undead, but. . . ." His face quickly turned serious again. "You really thought them to be dead?"

"The minion with me. He told me he smelled them, and we searched." Looking down at the floor, Wesley thought hard, trying to remember the scene. "There was no one left, only piles of dust and blood."

"Is that so?" Nic's expression was grim. "I think I should have a talk with that minion."

"Not possible." Wesley shook his head. "I believe he was killed in a skirmish a few months back."

"Really?" Nic raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Are you sure? Because how convenient."

"Well, I. . . ." Racking his brain, Wesley tried to remember the date and specifics of the minion's death. "I don't recall all. . . ."

"Well, try and recall!" Nic snapped out. "This could be important."

The vampire's short tone brought Wesley back to reality, as he remembered Angel's attempt to kill him and his friends' abandonment of him. Better not to trust anyone again. "You don't need to try and help me. I don't need you or anyone else. And I do believe I told you to *get out*."

"Don't need anyone?" Nic glared coldly at the human. "My brother believes you plotted to have all his Childer killed. You're on his hit list, Wes. My advice to you is get out of LA. Go back to England and your Council. They're in the middle of negotiating a treaty with the Ventrues, so they might be your best and only defense against Angelus."

"Angelus." Wesley turned around, his back again to the vampire. "Already tried to kill me when I was flat on my back in the hospital. But believe me." Pulling a shotgun out of a cabinet, he faced Nic, aiming the weapon at the other man. "The next time I *will* be ready for him. Now, I will say this for the third and final time. *Get Out.*"

Continuing to stare at Wesley, Nic backed toward the door. "He didn't try to kill you in the hospital. He was playing cat and mouse with you. When he gets a hold of you, he won't be snapping your neck or tearing your heart out. He'll want to dissect you piece by piece. You'll be kept alive as long as possible while parts of your body are cut off, one per day. It's an ugly and painful way to die. I came here as a friend to warn you, but I can see you're not interested in my advice." Reaching the door, he opened it, glancing back at the other man one last time. "Funny thing, I hope I never see you again because if I do, I'm sure it won't be under *pleasant* circumstances. Good bye, Wesley."

****

Thanks to Mistress Alistra for her help with German.

And thanks to the persons who sent in nominations for Bloodlines.

~Part: 15~

The sound of the shower and the sense of being alone aroused Spike from his troubled sleep. A moment of panic as he looked over at an empty bed across from him. "Djoser!" He exclaimed to himself. Sitting up quickly, the blanket fell away from him, and he looked down at his naked body in puzzlement. Hadn't he fallen asleep with his clothes on?

"Hey, Will." The door from the bathroom opened and Djoser greeted him. "I'm done with the shower, if you want to get in there now."

"Djoser." Spike sighed with relief at the sight of his brother. "Glad to see you awake, mate. Was starting to worry."

"Since when do you worry about anything?" Djoser teased as he sat down on the bed, toweling his body dry.

"I worry plenty." Spike couldn't help the smile that spread over his face. The brotherly squabbling made his world a little more normal again. "And right now I'm worried about you. You look like death warmed over, or. . . ." He frowned, realizing that wasn't an appropriate description for a vampire. "Undeath warmed over." Staring intently at Djoser, he was saddened, seeing his usually fit brother with his ribs sticking out and body covered with black and blue wounds.

"Look who's talking. I heard that the Slayer was the one responsible for. . . ." Djoser waved at hand at Spike's swollen and bruised face.

"Yeah, well it's nothing to get all worked up about. It was just a. . .a misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding, my ass!" Djoser spat out in disgust. "After all the help we gave her, and this is how she repays us. As soon as I'm healed, I'm going to have a *talk* with her."

"Oh for Christ's sake." Flopping back down on the bed, Spike buried his head in the pillows. "Will you just let it go? It wasn't her fault; it was the nerds making her hallucinate."

"Let it go?" Djoser threw his bath towel over on a chair. "She assaulted a Blood-Childe. That's a. . . ."

"Crime against our Clan." Spike interrupted. "Yeah, I've heard that tune before. But after all, she's the Slayer and assaulting vampires is her job. You know, you're making a big deal out of nothing, just like our High Poof."

Taking a shower had used up his energy, so Djoser let himself lie back down. "She beats you up, and yet you defend her?"

Still face down in the pillows, Spike heaved a sigh. "You weren't there, so you don't know what went down. But like I said, the nerds made Buffy believe she had killed someone. She was going to turn herself into the police, but I stopped her. We exchanged a few blows, but because I'm not totally myself, she got the better of me. She eventually realized what she was doing and stopped. She was sorry afterwards."

"A few blows?" Djoser turned his head to look at Spike who still had his face buried in the pillows. "You look like you went twelve rounds with a Pugililis Demon."

"That's because I'm still not right." Lifting his head up, Spike peered over at his brother. "Remember, that's why you've been feeding me your blood for the last eight months."

"So you mean Buffy really didn't beat you that bad? You just look so awful because of. . .of. . . ." Djoser broke off, since he really wasn't sure what was still keeping Spike from being one hundred percent healthy.

"Yeah, mate cause I'm still lurgy." Sitting up again, Spike looked around for his duster. He wanted a cigarette.

Still on his back, Djoser thought out loud. "I didn't mention your health problem to our Sire. Did you say something to him about it?"

"No." Reaching over, Spike pulled his duster off the top of the dresser. "I was too busy explaining about the dealer, the Suvolte eggs, and the nerd herd." He searched through the duster's pockets for his lighter and cigarettes. "So you've talked to our esteemed Master?"

"Yes, it was his blood that revived me." Closing his eyes, Djoser suddenly felt exhausted. Too much to think about. He still wasn't up to it. "Why don't you shower and come to bed with me?" He suggested to Spike.

Lighting up a cigarette, Spike took a puff and then stubbed it out on the bed's headboard. "I've got a better idea. Why don't I just skip the shower and come into bed with you now?" He asked anxious to nestle in with his brother.

"We're here in our Sire's lair, and in his lair, one doesn't skip a shower."

"Oh, bloody hell." Spike swore softly. "Forgot about the High Master of Hygiene. A four shower a day minimum."

Eyes still closed, Djoser gave a small smirk. "It's a real shower Will, with hot water. Something we haven't had for a while, so quit your complaining and just enjoy it while you have it."

**

Sitting in his office on the hotel's first floor, Angel was in conference with Damon and Nic. "So?" He looked over at Damon. "Did the scouting party find the slug demon? And better yet, did they kill it?"

"They found it, but they weren't able to kill it."

"Damon." Angel pushed himself back in his chair with disgust. "How hard can killing one slug demon be?"

"Those demons are tougher than they look. A minion managed to spear one of them, and it just tore itself away from the knife and ran off."

"One of them?" Picking up a sharp letter opener, Angel tested its sharpness with his finger.

"There's more than one." Damon sat himself on the corner of Angel's desk. "And there's more to report."

"Christ!" Angel closed his eyes. He knew he didn't want to hear the rest.

"Seems these demons like to worm into a human body. They go in through the mouth, take control of the body, and then. . .then drink all the moisture out of their host."

Tipping his chair back on two legs, Nic could only roll his eyes. "That's what the minions told you? Are you sure they were chasing that demon and not holed up in the nearest cantina? Cause that report sounds like a drunken delirium."

"Hang on." Damon added. "I haven't gotten to the good part yet."

"It gets better?" Nic asked with disbelief. "Christ, we should be calling up some big Hollywood honcho because this would make a great movie. A cross between Alien and Invasion of the Body Snatchers."

Both Angel and Damon turned to give their younger brother a perplexing look. They had never heard of Alien or Invasion of the Body Snatchers.

Rolling his eyes again, Nic could only sigh. "Never fucking mind. So what else did the minions say?"

"Well, when this slug demon takes over a human, it can communicate through the host's body. So when one of them got into a human, it told our minions that they were fleeing from something called the Destroyer, and here's the good part. The minions asked why this Destroyer was after them, and it replied, and I quote, 'it's not; it's coming after Angelus'."

As both brothers stared hard at him, Angel could only shrug his shoulders defensively. "I've never heard of any demon called the Destroyer."

"Fuck, Angelus." Nic brought his chair back on all four legs with a thump. "You've got demons and humans lined up to kick your ass."

"So what else is new?" Sighing, Angel leaned forward, stabbing the letter opener into the top of his desk. "We need to start making plans to leave for Germany, but when we go I plan to have two, maybe three prisoners to take with us."

"Angelus." Nic knew that Wesley was targeted as one of the prisoners. "Listen, about Wesley. . . ."

"He's not a concern at present." Angel interrupted. "He'll be easy enough to find when I'm ready, but the humans weren't too thrilled when I was smothering him with a pillow in the hospital. And right now, I need their help. Nic." He began to write rapidly on a pad of paper. "Here's a list of contacts I have here in LA. Check them out, and check out any you have. I want to know where Snow is."

"Is it wise to delay our departure to hunt for Snow?" Damon asked.

"He's attacked two of our Blood-Childer. I believe that as long as he lives, he poses a threat to all of them. And as High Master and Sire of two of the Childer . . ." Angel stared into Damon's eyes. "It's my responsibility to remove any threats to them."

"And what about this Destroyer?" Taking the list of contacts from Angel, Nic studied it.

"Damon, I want you to go with the minions and find those slug demons and make sure that this time the job gets done. That should appease the humans, and then I can get their help in researching this Destroyer. What?" The sight of the Clan's healer standing discreetly in the doorway interrupted Angel.

"Master." The healer bowed his head respectfully at Angel and his two brothers. "I just checked on your Childer. Djoser is still weak but improving. But I am a little concerned about William."

"William?" Standing up, Angel frowned at the healer. "I know he's beat up, but his injuries weren't serious."

"His wounds certainly aren't life-threatening, but. . . ." The healer spoke slowly. "They aren't improving either."

**

Wrapped up in his brother's arms, Spike was just beginning to fall into a light sleep, when someone or ones entered the room, bringing him to a semi-conscious state. Eyes blurry, he made out a large form leaning over him. A scent of Sire filled his nose.

"William." Spike heard the whisper right before he felt the sting of the bite. His Sire's essence 'pushed' into him, and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

**

A few hours later, Spike woke again, but this time he felt rested and refreshed. Looking over at a sleeping Djoser, he disentangled himself, careful not to wake his brother. Running his tongue around his mouth, he tasted the residual of Sire's blood. Angel had fed him while he had been sleeping.

Pulling on his jeans, Spike grabbed his shirt and still barefoot left the room. Sire's blood flowed through him, and some unspoken need compelled him to seek out Angel. The search lasted but an instant, as he found his Sire a few rooms down in the burnt out suite. Pushing the door opening quietly, he looked in. Back to the door, Angel was dismantling the baby crib. Watching for a moment, the scene brought a lump to Spike's throat. Deep sorrow radiated from his Father's body.

"Why don't you just leave it for now? It's not going anywhere." He spoke to Angel's back.

"My William." Angel turned, giving his Childe a sad smile.

"I'm sorry." Taking a few steps into the room, Spike felt his Sire's grief.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Childe." Turning back, Angel continued to take apart the baby crib. "But I will have my revenge for Connor, just like I will avenge myself against those who have hurt you and Djoser."

"Father." Pure instinct guided him, as Spike went over and embraced Angel from behind. Anger forgotten for a moment, his only thought was that he just wanted to offer his comfort. "What can I do to help?"

Reaching back, Angel wrapped his arms around Spike, while letting himself fall to the floor. Pulling his Childe onto his lap, he hugged him tightly. "Don't leave me again, Will. Don't ever leave again."

**

Sitting at his dining table, Wesley wanted to get up and fall into bed, but his body was so tired, he found he just couldn't move at all. A pad of paper with his scribbles stared up at him. Angel, Djoser, Spike, Connor, Darla, Nic, Damon, Christian. Vampires who had so affected his life and now would be the death of him.

Wesley was no fool. Despite telling Nic to get out, he had heard the vampire's warning. Angel believed him to be responsible for trying to get rid of all three of his sons. The Scourge of Europe, one of the most evil and sadistic vampires in history, had targeted him. He was doomed, unless he ran like Nic suggested or come up with some brilliant defensive plan.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. He ignored it at first, but the knocking only got louder. Assuming it was Nic returning, Wesley grabbed his shotgun again. "I told you to. . . ." He rasped out as he opened the door.

"I would have called, but I figured you'd only tell me to go to hell, so I thought I'd just take a shot and drop by." Lilah Morgan stood outside the door. "Aren't you going to invite me in? And is the shotgun for me? I'm flattered." Pushing past Wesley, Lilah brazenly entered his apartment. Looking around, she couldn't help but comment. "Not what I expected. No flowers, no get well cards. Not even a couple of those balloons with the smiley faces on them."

Giving her a disgusted look, Wesley didn't bother to answer.

"Wow." Lilah turned to face Wesley. "I guess when Justine slit your throat she nicked your sense of humor."

"Not at all." Taking a half of step out in the hallway, Wesley checked to see if Lilah had brought any henchmen with her. "I find you being here extremely funny. Now get out!"

"Tch. Tch." Lilah smiled smugly at Wesley. "Is that a way to talk to a guest in your house? A guest. . . ." She pulled out a gift wrapped book from her purse. "Who brings you a present."

Leaning his shotgun against the wall, Wesley took the proffered book. Unwrapping it, he read the title. "Dante's Divine Comedy."

"Actually it's just part one, the inferno. It's not a first edition, more like the fifteen hundreds, but it's in the original Tuscan. Have you read it?"

Closing the book, Wesley tossed it carelessly on the table. "Several times."

"Then you know it's a guided tour of the underworld, the nine levels of hell."

"Yes. Descending, concentric rings based on the severity of the sin."

"You know. . . ." Lilah feigned ignorance. "I always forget - the very bottom of hell, in the ninth circle, the devil is frozen in ice, right? He's got three heads, three mouths, and those mouths are reserved for the worst sinners. Now, I can't remember - who is in the center mouth? Wh-what was his name? The one person in all of human history deemed the greatest sinner? Who was that?"

A moment of silence before Wesley answered. "Judas Iscariot."

"Right. The worst spot in hell is reserved for those who betray." Lilah's expression changed to dead seriousness. "You betrayed, Wesley. And word on the street is that your future is looking pretty dim."

Keeping his face impassive, Wesley wasn't surprised that Wolfram and Hart already knew his situation. "And what? Are you here to offer me protection?"

"Yeah, kind of. I'm here to offer you a job. And as a valuable member of Wolfram and Hart, part of your benefit package would be access to bodyguards."

"And why would Wolfram and Hart want to offer me a job?" Wesley already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from Lilah's lips.

"We could use a man of your talents. . .your intellect."

"You mean my knowledge of Angel and his family."

"The Tremeren Clan has been reunited." Lilah stated this with a falsely nonchalant tone. "Angel is back with his two brothers. That's causing a bit of worry for some."

"By some, do you mean Wolfram and Hart?" Wesley felt some what consoled at the knowledge that the evil law firm was nervously squirming at the thought of Angel, Damon, and Nic together.

"We're not stupid." Lilah told him. "We're talking about three powerful, master vampires. And that's not mentioning Djoser, William, and their newest Childe, the former Council hunter. We hear that the powerful Ventrue Master Judelin is concerned enough that he's planning to briefly suspend his negotiations with the Watcher's Council and come to LA."

"That should prove interesting." Mind racing, Wesley tried to appear indifferent.

"Join with us, Wesley." Lilah's tone became more urgent. She knew that Judelin had already met with Rupert Giles, the other Watcher who had intensive contact and knowledge of Angel and his Clan. There was no doubt that Wesley would be on the Ventrue Master's list too, and Wolfram and Hart wanted him recruited before Judelin got to him. "With your knowledge and our resources, we can finish the Tremeren Clan once and for all."

"I thought that Wolfram and Hart wanted Angel alive. That he is to play an important role in the future apocalypse."

"Who said anything about killing Angel?" Lilah knew that Wesley had taken the bait. "All I said was we wanted to finish the Tremeren Clan. Kill all of Angel's family, and even if Angel still existed, his Clan would be dead. His Bloodline eradicated."

~Part: 16~

Egypt, 1784

Om (Spelled phonetically) = Arabic for mother

"And when your Father, the mighty Afreet, comes to claim you, what will you say to him?"

Standing respectfully in front of his mother, the young boy immediately began his daily recitation. It had been burned into him since birth. "I am the property of my Father. Everything that I am, everything that is my being belongs to him, the powerful Angelus, Heir Apparent of the Tremere Clan."

"And what do you owe him?" The mother asked.

"My allegiance, my loyalty, my life." The child named Djoser continued. "But om. . . ." He was so confused. How could he be a child of an Afreet, and why would he be made to pledge himself to one? "I don't look any different from other children?"

"What do you mean by that?" Looking up quickly, the young mother was startled by her son's question.

"Well. . . ." The child's brain worked feverishly as he tried to put his thoughts into words. "If my father is an Afreet, shouldn't I look different? Shouldn't I have. . . ?" Visions of horns, cloven hoofs, and tails flashed through his mind.

"You are different!" A spurt of anger shot through the young woman, causing her to rise to her feet. "Your father's blood runs through you and that cannot be changed." For a moment, she had bitter thoughts about her fate and the fate of her son. "To save the rest of our people your grandfather made a promise and to not honor it would bring shame, not to mention death. . . ." The young woman was no fool. When the Afreet returned, if he was not given what was promised, he would surely finish the slaughter he had started six years ago. "To us all." She finished, her voice now barely a whisper.

"But om, who is my father?" Djoser was desperate to know.

"Your master." Squaring her shoulders, the mother remembered her duty to her people and to her dead father. "And do not ever forget it."

**

Los Angeles, CA, November 2001

Lying on his back in bed with Djoser next to him and Angel on his brother's other side, Spike was content and happy, a state that was rare for him. "So let me get this straight." He asked Angel. "A vampire hunter from two hundred years ago kidnapped Connor with Wesley's help and escaped with him into a dimension called Quortoth?"

"That's right." Right arm around Djoser, Angel held his oldest son tight. He wasn't going to be careless again with his two surviving Childer.

"Christ." Spike shook his head. "I told you our family was cursed. How else can you explain what happened to Connor? A frigging ghost from your past takes a time trip two hundred years in the future to abduct him. But I must say, our curser has a sense of humor and a bloody good imagination because the most fucked up things are always happening to us."

"So what is the rescue plan?" Lying on his side, back pressed up against Angel's chest, Djoser held himself rigid. It felt awkward for him to be held by his Sire.

"No plans. Connor is lost. We just need to accept that." Burying his face in the back of Djoser's neck, Angel felt his Childe's unease at their closeness. "I'm making plans to go to Germany, but there are a few chores that need to be done first. And one of them is. . . ." Lifting his head up, he looked down at the side of Djoser's face. "For you to settle up with the Slayer."

"The Slayer?" Spike sat up. "Are you two bloody bores still droning on about Buffy? I told you. . . ."

"We know what you told us." Angel interrupted him. "But that doesn't change the fact that the Slayer assaulted you, my Blood-Childe, and also broke an agreement with your brother. Djoser." He now addressed his eldest. "Have you thought about what you want done with the Slayer?"

"Sire." Djoser didn't know what to say, as both surprise and guilt arose in him. Surprise that Angel would ask him what he wanted, and guilt because of the betrayal he committed with Buffy. "Sire, there is something. . .something I need. . . ."

"Since I'm the one she beat up, I should be the one to decide her fate." Spike broke in loudly. He knew his brother was about to make a confession, an unnecessary confession in his opinion.

"I had sex with her." Djoser hurriedly blurted out before he could be interrupted again.

"Bloody hell." Spike swore softly as he watched Angel who looked shocked for a moment roll over on his back to stare up at the ceiling. "Stupid git!" He whispered to Djoser. "You didn't have to tell him."

Moments passed as Angel continued to stare at the ceiling. Djoser and Spike exchanged uncomfortable looks. In their past experiences, a silent Sire was usually followed by a burst of bad temper.

Sliding out of the bed, Spike reached back to take hold of his brother. If their Sire was going to have one of his violent temper tantrums, it was better to have as much distance as possible.

"William!" Rolling over on his side, Angel grabbed his Childe's wrist at the same moment that Spike grabbed Djoser's. An emotional current ran through the three of them. "Get back in bed. There's no reason to run."

Warily watching Angel, Spike climbed back into bed.

"So." Releasing Spike, Angel slid his hand over to Djoser's face. Turning his Childe's face toward him, he spoke softly. "What do you want to do about the Slayer?"

His Sire's odd behavior plus the fact that Djoser had no idea what he wanted done with Buffy left the vampire without an answer.

"How 'bout you'd like to beat her face in and then shag her silly?" Spike suggested helpfully when Djoser remained silent.

Glaring up at Spike, Djoser couldn't believe his brother's boldness. "I. . .really. . . .am. . . ."

"Might be a plan." Angel said with a thoughtful look on his face, shocking both of his Childer.

"Sire. . .I. . . ." Djoser was astounded. "You. . .I know you ordered me to stay away from Buf. . .the Slayer, and I know. . . ."

"It's okay." Wrapping his arms once again around Djoser, Angel inhaled his elder Childe's scent. "You're my Successor and Heir, and I think it's about time I start treating you with the respect you deserve."

"So you mean you're going to permit him to beat her face in and shag her?" Spike had made his suggestion to shock, never dreaming that it would be taken seriously.

"If that's what you want." Angel spoke softly in Djoser's ear, flashing a playful grin. "But I do have one stipulation. One of your uncles must accompany you to Sunnydale and of course a few of our skilled fighters."

"And you, Sire?" Djoser turned his head so he could look Angel in the eye. "Don't you still have. . .feelings for Buffy?"

"If I do. . . ." There was no doubt to the seriousness of Angel's tone. "They are of no consequence. From now on only you, my Childer, and the survival of our Bloodline are important to me."

**

Having dozed uneasily for only a few hours, Wesley got up off the couch feeling no better than he had in the hospital. He needed rest but knew that was not an option until an important matter was settled. Looking at the clock, he noted that it was early but figured since Dawn had school, the Summers' household would be up and about.

Dialing the phone, Wesley silently said a prayer that Giles would be there. His former associate was his only link to the Council, which in turn could link him with the Ventrues. Lilah Morgan had made the claim that Wolfram and Hart was his only protection against Angel, but he believed her to be mistaken. There was another defense for him, Judelin, the Ventrue High Master.

**

Now it was Spike who lie spooned up against Angel. The still recovering Djoser had moved to the smaller bed and was fast asleep. "So you're really going to allow Djoser to pursue a relationship with the Slayer even though you still fancy her?" Spike wanted assurance since his Sire's generosity was so out of character.

"For most of my existence I have never made you, my Childer, my first priority. It's time that I did. No more women for me. I need to concentrate on you and the Clan." Closing his eyes, Angel ran his hand over a jutting hipbone and prominent ribcage. "You and your brother are awful thin." He remembered Damon's words about his Childer's terrible eating habits. "Were the two of you feeding properly in Sunnydale?"

Spike couldn't help but roll his eyes at Angel's stupidity. "What did you expect? Djoser is thin from the Elder-Snow-sharp-skewers diet, and. . . ."

"And you?" Rising up, Angel leaned over Spike. "Were you feeding on a regular basis in Sunnydale?"

"Yes. . .I ate." It wasn't exactly a lie Spike reassured himself, remembering the buffalo wings, onion blossoms, and bags of junk food he had shared with Clem.

"Uh huh." Angel was no fool. He knew what his youngest liked to eat. "Human junk food and booze, right?"

"Maybe." Spike temporized. "Was having a little problem so mostly I fed from Djoser, and then when he disappeared, I didn't have much of an appetite."

"Your little problem wasn't the same problem you've been having since Snow and the Council poisoned you?"

Now it was Spike's turn to raise his head to look at Angel. "You know the answer already. That good-for-nothing healer must have figured it out. The bloody git finally got something right."

Smiling, Angel rolled over on his back, playfully dragging Spike down on top of him. "Tsk. Tsk. Such disrespect for one of our learned clan members." Pulling his Childe's head to rest on his chest, he kissed, nipped, and licked his son's cool flesh. "Feed from me, my Childe. My blood, the blood of your ancestors, it will make you strong again."

Still not sure if he could truly trust Angel, Spike decided to test him. "Your blood is what I dream about." Fangs elongating, he brutally bit down into a pale nipple. Sire's blood filled his mouth. Drinking deeply, he savored the might and the essence of Angelus, one of the most powerful vampires ever to exist.

**

For the first time since Justine had slit his throat and he lay dying, Wesley felt a spark of hope. Giles was not in Sunnydale, but in England, aiding the Council with the negotiations with the Ventrues. Being an ex-Watcher, he knew where the Council had its guest lodging, and it wasn't hard to track down a telephone number.

Picking up the phone, he punched in the international code for the United Kingdom. Rupert Giles was no longer an indirect link to the Ventrues and Judelin, he was now Wesley's direct link and only hope.

**

Using both hands, Spike raked his fingernails down Angel's chest, making bloody rivulets. Smearing his face in Sire's blood, he took pleasure in the moment, while anticipating a clout to the head. He had crossed the line. No childe would dare do what he just did without permission. But the blow never fell, and he reveled in Angel's blood, enjoying its feel, its taste.

"My beautiful Childe. It's been so long." A whisper in his ear, as he felt hands caressing his lower body. Erotic strokes that were silky and smooth. Touches on the outside and then a blood covered finger rubbing his sphincter ring.

"Christ." Lifting his head from Angel's chest, Spike couldn't help but be distracted by the finger that had now entered him. Rocking his body, he pushed, so the finger entered him deeper. "Sire." He pleaded, wanting more.

Using his other hand, Angel stroked himself a couple of times before positioning his cock and then gently pushing in. The cool tightness enclosed around him, and he threw his head back while thrusting with his hips.

A feeling of completeness enveloped Spike, and he moved his body back and forth matching his Sire's movements. He felt fangs at his neck, as Angel bit into him, taking back some of his life's fluid. The cycle of blood was complete.

**

"Are you sure you feel up to this?" Downstairs in the hotel lobby, Angel eyed Djoser. "You could wait another day or two."

"I'm anxious to go, and the healer did give me a clean bill of health." In truth, Djoser didn't feel one hundred percent, but he wanted to leave before his Sire changed his mind and retracted his permission.

"I'm going with you." Stuffing cigarettes and a small flask of whiskey into the pockets of his duster, Spike was determined to accompany his brother to Sunnydale.

"Don't start, William." Arms folded across his chest, Angel glared darkly at Spike. "You are not going to be going anywhere."

"And why the bloody hell not?" Shrugging into his coat, Spike began to argue. "I was the one the Slayer beat up, so I should have a say in her punishment."

"That's enough, boy!" With the million and one things to think about, Angel was not in the mood for any kind of argument. "The healer is running tests on you, so you WILL stay here with me in the lair. Now don't. . . ." Grabbing Spike by the duster, he roughly yanked it off. "Speak another word."

"Arsey Poof." Ignoring Angel's warning, Spike muttered this sullenly.

Shooting his Childe another angry stare, Angel communicated a silent warning. "Damon." He turned to his brother. "You will accompany Djoser to Sunnydale, and give him any aid he needs, unless of course the Slayer frightens you, so you wouldn't be up to the challenge." He gave Damon a taunting look.

Smiling sweetly back, Damon was not intimidated. "Nothing frightens me, including you."

"You may take a couple of our best fighters, and. . . ." Angel looked over at his nephew. "Will you be taking your. . . ? By the way, what name did you give your Childe?" He remembered the conversation with Spike regarding Childer's names and how they came by them.

A rare moment as Damon looked a little nonplussed. "Well. . .you see. . . ." He stammered out. "I haven't named him yet, because I was waiting for our Clan to be reunited, and I wanted to name him at his presentation."

"You mean to tell me that this Childe, who you turned almost a year ago, doesn't have a name yet?" Nic was incredulous. "For Christ's sake Damon, give your Childe a name."

"Well. . . ." Again Damon was thrown. "You see. . .since I. . . ."

"Jesus Christ!" Nic broke in. "You have no fucking idea of a name for your Childe!"

"No!" Damon said hastily. "I just wanted to make sure I gave him a name that embodies who he is."

"Uh huh." Nic knew a weak defense when he heard it. "Why don't you send a minion to the store to buy you one of those baby name books? You can pick a name from that."

"Perhaps I can help." Angel offered. "After you come back from Sunnydale, we can think up a name together."

"You're fucked." Whispering, Spike had moved over by his cousin. "If my Sire helps name you, then it's a sure bet that you're going to end up with some poofy name like Edward or Leonard. Pretty soon we're going to known as the Clan with the nancyboy names."

"And what are we suppose to call your nameless Childe in the meantime?" Nic waved his hand at the young vampire.

Damon had no idea since he called his son, Childe, and the minions all addressed the Clan's newest Blood-Childe as Sir or my Liege.

"My name was Christian." The former demon hunter informed his family members.

"You will not be called that!" Damon snapped at him. "A name given to you by that cursed Council and a brainless mother."

"Your mum was brainless?" Spike couldn't help but ask.

The nameless Childe nodded his head slightly. "Not exactly brainless, just a fanatic."

"Oh." Spike wasn't exactly sure what his cousin meant by fanatic, but before he could ask more, Nic continued the debate.

"So give your Childe a name, so we can call him something." He told Damon with disgust. Another brother who didn't take enough time with his son.

"Not now." Damon temporized. "I want to take my time and get a proper name for him."

"You've had ten fucking months!" Nic said with exasperation. "Fuck it!" He looked over at his youngest nephew. "I'll just call you. . .Guy. Hey, Guy. How you doing, Guy." He tried the name out.

Damon opened his mouth to protest, but since he had no other ideas for a name for his Childe, he remained silent.

"Well that problem is solved." Angel too couldn't help but give Damon a questioning stare. What father couldn't think up a name for his Childe in ten months? "So, I believe my original question was, is. . .Guy going to go to Sunnydale with you or stay here in the lair?"

~Part: 17~

Armed with bottles of holy water, crucifixes around their necks, and weapons held high Gunn, Cordy, Fred, and Lorne cautiously made their way into the Hyperion. At the door, guards momentarily blocked their entrance, but no questions were asked as the vampires immediately stepped out of their way.

"Did I mention that walking into a known vampire lair is not one of your smarter strategies?" Gunn commented as the group walked over to the hotel's front desk.

"Quit worrying." Cordelia looked back at the minions guarding the entrance. "It's obvious that Angel had a talk with his. . .his people, since tweedle dee and tweedle dum over there let us waltz right in. We're not in any danger here."

"Hope you're right, sweetie." Lorne said, his discomfort obvious. "Those words better not end up being engraved on our head stones."

"Hey." Both Spike and Guy, who had stayed back in LA, came down the main staircase. "It's Cordelia, the bad hair queen, and the rest of my Sire's pets." Spike greeted the group. "Here, got something for you." He threw a dead demon slug on the floor near them, causing Fred to squeal and hop a couple of feet to the right.

"So you got it." Cordelia studied the demon corpse.

"It's dead." Angel seemed to materialize out of nowhere with Nic behind him. "But unfortunately, I'm told there are more of them." He stared down at the dead carcass. "*And* there's also a new enemy to worry about, someone or something called the Destroyer."

**

"Ah. . .boss?" The trio of novice vampire hunters trailed behind Wesley as they made their way to the Hyperion. "We've all heard of the vampire. . .the vampire who lives in a hotel, and we've heard he's pretty tough. Can't we start out with an easier foe, like a fledgling vamp or two?"

"You have nothing to worry about." Wesley lied easily. "The vampire who lives here." He pointed over to the Hyperion. "Is an old friend of mine."

**

"Okay, tell me if I got this right." Setting down his bottle of holy water, Gunn took a step closer to Angel and Nic. There was no way he was going to let these two vampires bully him. "We help you research this Destroyer, and then you order your minions to go and kill the rest of those slug demons."

"That's right." Angel deliberately kept his voice and demeanor non-threatening. "We can help each other."

"Oh, I get it." Gunn's voice dripped with sarcasm. "So you snap your fingers and have your. . .your flunkies get rid of the demons that *you* were responsible for bringing here in the first place with your scary ass mojo, and now we're suppose to help you with some Destroyer that's looking for a piece of you? Well, here's hoping that the Destroyer kicks your. . . ."

"Charles!" Fred sharply interrupted him, just as the front door opened and Wesley entered with his new crew.

"Wesley." The surprise appearance of the man who betrayed him had Angel's eyes glowing amber. Salivating, he barely remembered the three humans and the Anagogic demon he had been trying to win over. "How convenient that you stopped by. Saves me the trouble of hunting you down. Although. . . ." He began to move slowly and deliberately toward Wesley. "I always did enjoy the hunt, so maybe I'll just give you five minutes to start running for your life, before I. . . ."

"Angelus." A hand on his shoulder brought him back to his senses. He turned to look at Nic who silently reminded him that killing Wesley now would not help their cause.

"Wes." Moving quickly into the middle of the room, Cordelia strategically placed herself between Angel and Wesley. "I'm not sure why a smart man like you would make such a dumb move by coming here. You had better leave now."

"Angel." Wesley took a few more steps closer to Angel, ignoring Cordy. "I know you think I betrayed you, but. . . ."

"DON'T even try and defend yourself." Still being held back by Nic, Angel snarled this out, his control slipping as his demon surfaced.

"All right." Standing up ramrod straight, Wesley was not about to beg. "But hear me out for a moment. The fact that you are now reunited with your brothers has been noted by more than a few interested parties. They're becoming very nervous."

"As they should be." Slightly appeased by hearing that he and his brothers were causing some uneasiness, Angel pushed back his demon.

"Wolfram and Hart made me an offer." Wesley continued. "They're interested in my skills and knowledge, especially my knowledge regarding. . . ." He looked Angel straight in the eye. "You and your family."

"So what are you saying?" Angel now stood, feet apart, arms folded across his chest. "That you're now an employee of Wolfram and Hart, and you have their protection?" He gave the three men who still stood by the entrance a contemptuous look that made them shuffle their feet nervously. "Breaking news for you, Wes. They can't stop me from killing you."

"I turned Wolfram and Hart down." Wesley said abruptly. "But according to a mutual friend of ours, Rupert Giles, who if you didn't know has been in England aiding the Council in negotiations with the Ventrues, I'm about to receive another offer. An offer from the Ventrue High Master himself, Judelin." He took another step closer to Angel. "It seems that he too has heard about the Tremeren reunion and is coming here to LA."

"Judelin is on his way here?" For a moment Angel forgot his hatred for Wesley, as a new problem reared its head.

"He too is concerned about you and your family, but that isn't anything new, since throughout history the Tremerens and Ventrues have been long time rivals, if I remember correctly." Wesley studied both Angel and Nic with interest, as the former watcher in him emerged. Vampire history still fascinated him.

"And how are you involved in all this?" Mind going in all different directions, Angel was wondering how long it would take to get Djoser and Damon back from Sunnydale, and if they could possibly leave for Germany before the Ventrue High Master arrived in LA.

"It seems that Judelin is doing extensive research on you. He already recruited Giles, who he knew to have worked closely with you, and now wants to meet with me."

"I could kill you first." Angel growled softly.

"Or you could let me live." Wesley countered. "And I, in return will pass along any information I glean from Judelin or the Council."

"Moles don't have a long life expectancy." Nic couldn't help but look at Wesley with concern. "You're living dangerously by playing Judelin."

"I don't plan on playing anybody." Wesley took a step back toward the door. He knew that his business was just about done. "Judelin is going to come to me. I don't plan on taking him up on his offer, but I will meet with him. And anything I learn, I'll tell you in exchange for leaving me in peace."

"*If* you get me information that is useful. . . ." Angel's tone was soft but menacing. "I'll let you live. But you better make it good, Pryce."

**

Sitting in the back of the cargo van that had transported him as an invalid from Nevada, Djoser found himself fidgeting around restlessly, much like his younger brother.

Damon asked giving him a curious look. "Can't wait to get your hands around the Slayer's neck?"

"Perhaps." Djoser wasn't sure. He just knew he felt unsettled.

"I had a talk with your Sire." Damon switched to another topic. "When we get to Germany, I want to have a formal presentation for my new Childe. William too, for that matter, since he never received a proper one."

"It's been a while. . . ." Djoser was relieved at his uncle's change of subject. "Since I've participated in any formal Clan rituals. I'll have to review our protocol, or I'll end up making a fool of myself like. . . ." He wanted to say Nic, but stopped himself, not sure if Damon would take offense.

"Like who?" Damon asked with a slight smile. "In our Clan, it could be any number of people. Nic. William. Even my new Childe, since he hasn't been too conscientious of his lessons lately. He finds William far more interesting than any studies."

"William can distract anyone or anything on any given day." Djoser said with a grin. "It's one of his talents."

"Talented Childe, that one." Damon commented as he settled back in the van seat. "But just so you're aware, I'm also pushing Angelus to formally present you at that time as his Successor."

"What?" Djoser straightened up in surprise. He never would have suspected Damon to be his supporter, since he had harbored false suspicions and doubts about his uncle for more than a century.

"One of the factors that lead to our Clan's downfall was my Sire's refusal to publicly name a Successor. It only led to brother against brother, plot and counter plot, all vying for the Master's favor. We were so divided that we became easy pickings for other vampire clans and demons. I don't want that to happen again."

"I know our history." Djoser, a man who had been let down time and time again, starting with his own mother and continuing with his father, had a hard time trusting what anyone said. "But why me?"

"Why you?" Damon repeated the question, not sure he heard right. "You're Angelus' eldest. William should naturally be considered also, but I believe him to be too frail, too unstable."

"William is stronger than he appears." Djoser automatically defended his younger brother. "He's had to be in order to have survived everything that has happened to him."

"I concur; William is a survivor." Damon was not looking for an argument. "But think seriously for a moment, can you really picture him as our High Master? And do you really believe that he wants the position of High Master with all its responsibilities and duties?"

"No." Smiling slightly at the mental picture of his younger brother as High Master, Djoser had to be truthful. "Right now his only ambitions are to avoid all responsibility and to fritter his unlife away pursing fun."

"So you're the only logical choice." Damon stated quietly.

"And what about you, uncle?"

"Me?" Surprise flashed over Damon's countenance.

"Yes. You're the second eldest surviving son of the Old Master. You now have a Blood-Childe, and a special one at that, a former Council hunter. I would think that many would consider you to be a logical choice for Successor."

"Angelus is the High Master." Damon stated this matter-of-factly. "The Line of Succession goes through him. That is a fact, and I accept and honor that fact."

"But why is it so important to you that our Master formally announce his Successor? My Sire is not that old; he has many centuries to live yet. There is no urgency."

"I want the matter to be settled now, so there will be no questions or arguments in the future." Damon leaned over, his face inches from Djoser.

"Why?"

"Because of your brother, Connor."

"Connor?" Now it was Djoser who looked surprised. "I was told that Connor is dead."

"Being kidnapped into another dimension does not necessarily mean dead." Leaning back, Damon glanced over at the minions in the front of the van. "So many of our people believe him to be the savior of our race, the first Pure Blood vampire born in more than two centuries. One such as that does not die so easily."

"The first Pure Blood in two centuries. Perhaps if my brother is alive, then he should be named as the Successor."

"You give in rather easily, my nephew." Damon stared at Djoser through narrowed eyes. "You would just willingly hand over your heritage, something that has been yours since your human birth, to a younger brother."

"A younger, Pure Blood brother." Djoser corrected his uncle.

"So he's a Pure Blood." Damon sneered. "That doesn't make him better. Because I had a human mother, I was automatically considered inferior to my three older brothers. In truth I was never their inferior, but because of old prejudices and beliefs I was never even given a chance. And I just accepted that. Don't you, my nephew, make the same mistake. I cannot believe that this brother of yours is superior to you. Fight for your birthright, Childe, and take your rightful place."

"You are setting me against a brother I have never even met." Djoser eyed Damon thoughtfully. "I thought you wanted to avoid another brother-against-brother conflict."

"If Angelus names you his Successor, there will be no power struggle. The issue will be solved."

Frowning, Djoser was still confused. "But Connor is not even here."

"True, but what if he were to find his way back from this hell dimension he's in?" Damon asked his nephew before turning to bark an order to the minions.

**

Appeased by Angel's not-killing-Wesley restraint and the good sense that they needed the vampire and his minions to help with the rest of the slug demons, the gang had wisely decided to back him against 'the Destroyer.'

"So the only information that your minions got was that the slug demons were fleeing something called the Destroyer, but the Destroyer wasn't really after them it's after you?" Charles Gunn managed to inject both disbelief and disdain in his voice. "That makes no sense whatsoever."

"That's all they were told." Angel's tone in turn was sharp and short as he felt defensive toward his minions.

"They didn't think to ask a few more questions?" With a pile of books already in front of her, Fred wondered where to even start the research with so little to go on.

Seeing her bewilderment, Angel gave her some helpful advice. "Start with thaumogenesis." Leaning over the hotel counter, he grabbed a book while avoiding eye contact with Lorne whose head had jerked up at hearing the word thaumogenesis.

"Thaumo. . .what?" Fred asked.

"Creatures manifested as a by-product of using dark majik." Pretending to be absorbed with the book in front of him, Angel had the perfect excuse not to look at Lorne or his brother Nic. He didn't want to see the 'I-told-you-so' accusation in their faces. "I don't want to hear it." He told them, anticipating some finger pointing.

"No one said anything." Lorne quickly said, even though he had been staring at Angel.

"Good, let's keep it that way." Angel warned him just as Spike and Guy entered the lobby carrying a pizza. "What the hell is that?" Frowning angrily at the pizza since he had already resolved to keep a closer eye on his Childer's feeding habits.

"Pizza." Spike tried to appear innocent. "For your pets." He lied hastily as he saw the dark look cross his Sire's face.

"For us?" Coming over to take a peek at the pizza, Cordelia was suspicious. "Since when did you become 'thoughtful guy'?"

"I haven't." Spike continued his lies, since the last thing he wanted was to be known as 'thoughtful guy.' "It was his. . . ." He pointed to his cousin. "Idea."

The smell of pizza was making Cordelia's stomach rumble. Taking a piece, she had no more reservations. "Great!" She smiled widely at Guy. "Thanks."

"Don't eat it all, bint." Spike followed Cordelia to her desk muttering softly in her ear. "Some of that is for me."

"Tell them." Cordelia garbled out, as she took a big bite of pizza while pointing to Gunn and Fred who were piling their plates with pizza. Research was a hungry business.

"Goddamn it!" Swearing, Spike watched the humans gobble up *his* pizza. He'd have to go bully the minions to go and buy him another.

"William." Angel's voice stopped Spike in his tracks. "If you're hungry. . . ." He held up a wrist. "I can. . . ."

"I'm not." Spike interrupted quickly. It was humiliating to admit in front of the humans that he fed from his Sire.

"Then grab a book." Angel's voice was soft. "And help research who this Destroyer is."

"I. . . ." Opening his mouth, Spike tried to quickly come up with an excuse to leave. He wanted to eat pizza, not do research.

"NOW." Angel only had to raise his voice just slightly, but his message came across loud and clear.

"Bugger this." Spike reluctantly turned back. Picking up a book off a pile, he sighed loudly, praying that something, anything would save him from having to do research.

As if the gods heard his pray, thunderous, electrical charges began flashing through the Hyperion lobby. "Bloody hell!" He exclaimed with gleeful surprise. For once his prayers were being answered. His happiness lasted but a moment as suddenly a large, ferocious beast appeared out of thin air.

Taken totally by surprise, Spike and everyone but Angel froze for a split second. Taking a step toward the monster, Angel's first instinct was to protect his family and lair.

"Angelus." Quickly recovering from his shock, Nic grabbed a sword and threw it to his brother.

Catching the sword with one hand, Angel faced down the monster as it advanced, roaring. More electrical charges flashed, and then another form came somersaulting out of nowhere. A swift swipe with the blade in his left hand, and the newcomer took out the monster. Turning to Angel, the young man then held up his right hand in which he held a weapon with several stakes pointing out of it. Aiming it at Angel's heart, he spoke two words. "Hi, Dad."

****

Dedication: Even though I've already made a dedication to Ghostsforge for his efforts in keeping the S/A fandom alive, I'm going to do it again. He modestly tries not to take credit, but I, personally know that he's been working hard behind the scenes, encouraging and giving little pushes to many of the S/A authors. My thanks to you, and may you be rewarded with many S/A fics in the future.

~Part: 18~

Sunnydale, CA, November 2001

Having settled into his Sire's old lair in Sunnydale, Djoser was readying himself to meet Buffy. The vampire knew Damon would never allow him to leave on his own, so he was calculating how he could slip past his uncle and bodyguards. He didn't want an audience when he met with the Slayer.

"So what's the plan?" Entering the room, Damon interrupted his guilty thoughts.

Stiffening slightly at his uncle's choice of the word plan, Djoser braced himself for an argument. "I'm preparing to go and meet the Slayer, but I prefer that you not be there. No offense, I just don't want a chaperone."

"All right." Damon agreed quickly, surprising his nephew. "But if you're going to meet the Slayer, you had better feed first."

Nodding his head, Djoser felt relief and disappointment flash through him. Relief that there wasn't going to be an argument with his uncle, and disappointment because this was to be his first meal in three days that wasn't to be from his Sire. "Did the minions stock up on blood?" He asked as he turned to head for the kitchen.

"Yes, but familial blood is what you need now." Pulling away his shirt collar, Damon bared his neck. "Add my strength to yours, Childe, and the Slayer will be no match for you."

**

LA, CA, November 2001

"My god!" Lowering his sword, Angel was beyond stunned. "It's you. . .Connor."

Still aiming his weapon at Angel's heart, Connor shouted. "Don't call me that!" He looked angrily around the lobby, glaring at all its occupants. "My name is Steven."

Hearing this, Nic could only roll his eyes. "Fucking nephews and their fucking names or no names."

"Steven?" Frowning, Angel was trying to understand how his youngest Childe went from a baby in arms to the young man standing in front of him in a matter of months. "Steven - okay, Steven. It's a good name too."

"Since he's not using Connor anymore." Nic had to comment. "Maybe we can give it to no name. . . ." He motioned over at Guy. "Over there."

"Angel." Stepping up to stand by the vampire, Gunn's eyes never left Connor, who was still aiming the stake thrower at Angel. "Are you sure this is Connor? Just cause he says, 'Hi, Dad'?"

"It's him." There was no doubt in Angel's mind.

"How the hell is that possible?" Gunn was still suspicious. "A couple of months ago he was wearing diapers. Now he's a teenager?"

"Really." Cordelia heaved a sigh of agreement. "Tell me we don't live in a soap opera."

Like everyone else, Spike was staring at Connor."*He's* our Clan's Successor? The frigging savior of our kind?" He whispered to Guy who was standing next to him. "That scuzzy nancyboy? We're all fucked."

"It's the layers of dirt that are fooling you." Guy whispered back. "Clean him up, and I see a family resemblance between him and us."

"You're effing blind, mate." Spike frowned at his cousin. "I'm certainly not that short or skinny." Turning his attention back to his newly arrived brother, he muttered curses to himself. "Don't fucking care if he is a Pure Blood! That limp-wristed twit is not going to replace Djoser as Successor, even if it means that I will have to challenge my brain- dead Sire."

**

Hurrying through the now familiar streets of Sunnydale, Djoser looked quickly behind him. His bodyguards were nowhere in sight. Laughing quietly to himself, the vampire slowed his pace. "Thought my uncle had trained his minions." Losing them had been no effort at all.

The night was calm with not even a slight breeze stirring the air. Tilting his head up, Djoser sniffed, taking in the different odors. With such stillness it would be no problem to track the Slayer. "Luck is with me tonight." He said to himself. "Slayer, I hope you're ready for me."

**

Having laid down his sword, Angel was taking slow, careful steps toward Connor. "There's just. . .just so much I want to know about you. So much I need to know."

Still standing in the middle of the lobby, weapon raised, Connor watched Angel with suspicious eyes.

"Are you alright?" Angel continued to approach his youngest Childe with caution. "Are you hungry?"

"I swear that's the only question the Poof knows how to ask." Still whispering to Guy, Spike was watching the scene in front of him. "Well, I don't know if he's hungry, but I'm feeling a bit peckish. Come on." He grabbed a hold of his cousin's arm. "Let's go and get us some pizza. The High Poof's busy now; he'll never know we're gone."

"Have you lost your mind?" As both a human raised by the Council and the Blood-Childe of Damon, Guy had had duty and obedience pounded into him. Breaking rules was a foreign concept to him.

"I wouldn't be surprised." Spike began to unobtrusively back out of the room, pulling Guy with him. "Since people are always asking me that."

"But there are minions guarding all the exits." Guy continued to whisper protests. "How are we going to get past them? And what about your new brother?"

"My brother's got everyone's attention." Spike took one last glance around before ducking out of the room to head for the sewer entrance. "He doesn't need ours too."

"And the guards?" Guy asked again.

Stopping for just a second, Spike gave his cousin a look of total disbelief. "They're just minions, mate." He enunciated slowly. "Easy pickings for the likes of us. Haven't you learned anything yet?"

**

"Slayer." Hissing, Djoser spied the familiar figure a short ways ahead of him. "It's time to pay for your sins." Breaking into a run, the vampire was a blur to the human eye as he caught up to Buffy and tackled her from behind.

Having found out from Amy that Willow had taken Dawn with her to see a warlock named Rack, Buffy was hunting hard for them. So caught up in her search Djoser caught her completely by surprise as he landed on top of her. "What the hell?" Buffy managed to exclaim before hitting the concrete.

Grabbing Buffy by the hair, Djoser began pounding her face in the pavement. "Bitch! Traitor!" He growled at her. "I saved your sister and helped you control the demons here in Sunnydale, and you repay me by attacking my brother. You promised me that you were going to protect him."

"Djoser?" Recovered from the initial surprise of the attack, Buffy had gathered her wits and strength. Reaching back, she grabbed onto the vampire's clothing. With a hard jerk, she managed to pull Djoser off balance. "For God's sake, I don't have time for you or this."

"Don't have time?" Djoser felt himself toppling sideways, so he gave a good yank on the hair he was holding. Falling off Buffy, he landed on the pavement beside her. Both of his hands held a clump of her hair. "Well, you're going to have to squeeze me into your schedule, Slayer, because I'm here to revenge my brother, a Blood-Childe of our Clan."

Jumping to her feet, Buffy took a defensive stance."Listen to me, Djoser. I am sorry for what I did to Spike. I lost control. I didn't mean. . . ." She wasn't able to finish her thought as Djoser attacked again.

"I don't want to hear your excuses." The vampire growled out as he swung his fists. "If our positions were reversed, and I had been the one to hurt your younger sister, you would not be receptive to any excuses I had."

Backing up while blocking Djoser's blows, Buffy could feel his outrage. It fueled his attack. "You're right!" She tried another defensive approach. "It was inexcusable, so let me make it up to you."

Total shock stopped Djoser in mid punch. He couldn't help but interpret Buffy's words to have a sexual content. "What? You're offering me sexual favors for not killing you?"

Making a face, Buffy rolled her eyes. "NO! What kind of person do you think I. . . ?" Stopping as she remembered the tryst she had with Djoser in the cemetery. "NO!" She guiltily repeated herself. "Gutter-mind. I'm offering you and your Clan valuable information and perhaps protection if necessary."

"Information?" Djoser raised his fists again in suspicion. "What kind of information?"

"Giles." Buffy said quickly. "Giles has been in England helping the Council negotiate a treaty with the Ventrues. I've been told that Judelin has quite an interest in Angel and your Clan. He pumped Giles for anything he could get on you guys, and now he's on his way here to California."

**

Sighing in relief, Angel watched as Connor sat in the kitchen eating. There was still work to be done on building a relationship with him, but at least his newest Childe had finally put down his weapon. "If he wants something else, can you guys get him. . .whatever?" He asked Cordelia and Fred as he motioned to the food on the table.

"I don't know." Hands on hips, Cordelia watched Connor inhale the food in front of him. "We might need a truck for more supplies."

"Well anything you need. . . ." Angel turned to leave. There were things that needed his immediate attention. "Have the minions get it for you. I just have to check on a couple of. . .issues." He trailed off while turning to leave. "I'll be right back." Turning he gazed directly at Connor who was busy devouring all the food in front of him and wouldn't look up.

"We'll take care of him." Sitting next to Connor at the table, Fred smiled up at Angel. "Don't worry."

"Nic!" Long strides took Angel back into the hotel lobby.

"Yes, Master." Elbows on the front desk, Nic looked up from the newspaper that was spread out in front of him.

Stopping to stare at his brother, Angel suspected mockery but let it pass. "Contact Damon. I want them back here now."

Straightening up, Nic looked around in surprise. "They just left this afternoon. Where's the fire?"

"And then, check the airlines." Angel didn't bother to answer, just continued to bark out orders. "I want arrangements made for us to leave for Germany as soon as possible."

"Now? Right now?" Nic was still trying to figure out what the emergency was. "I thought you wanted Elder Snow first."

"Connor's returned now, and you heard what Wesley said. Judelin is coming. Our priority is protecting our Blood-Childer. Which by the way. . . ." Angel checked around the lobby. "Where are William and er. . .Guy?"

"I thought they were with you in the kitchen." Nic gave Angel a look of alarm. "Because William usually hangs out wherever the human food is."

"Jesus Christ!" Swearing, Angel turned to the sentries by the front door. "Did you see. . . ?"

"Master." A minion entered the lobby from the back entrance. "There's a problem downstairs. It seems that. . . ." Hesitating the vampire wasn't sure how to report that Spike and Guy had knocked out the sentries guarding the sewer entrance and had left the lair.

But no more explanation was needed as Angel already realized what had happened without being told. "That goddamn Childe of mine! I'm going to strangle him!" Stomping over to the weapons cabinet, he barked to the minion. "You, come with me. Their scent should be easy enough to track. Nic." Starting for the sewer, he looked over his shoulder at his brother. "Get replacements for the guards downstairs, call Damon, and keep watch over everything, especially Connor."

**

"He was a fun bloke." Having had more than a few beers at the pizza parlor, Spike was not quite walking a straight line down the street, as he told Guy about their dead cousin, Victor. "You would have liked him. He knew how to have a really good piss-up."

"I would have liked to have known him." Walking alongside, Guy put out a hand to try and steady Spike. "It's too bad what happened to him."

"Fucking Snow! What I wouldn't give to see his entrails pulled out of him, preferably through his nose." Spike's good humor was dampened by the memory of Snow. "Okay, mate." He said to Guy as they approached the manhole that would lead them to the Hyperion. "If anyone asks, we were just having a smoke down in the sewer."

"And what do we say about the guards?" Guy asked as he bent down to lift up the manhole cover.

"Just play dumb." Spike advised as he looked around the darkened streets. "I found you can get out of a lot of things by pretending to be brainless." A flash in the shadows caught Spike's eye. "Hey." He tapped Guy on the shoulder. "Hey, new boy just ran past us."

"What?" Guy looked up at Spike, wondering who he was talking about.

"My new brother, Connor, Steven, whatever his name is, just ran past us." Spike was now having second thoughts about his younger sibling. "First night back, and he ducks out from under the Poof's nose. Maybe that kid has potential after all."

"Where would he be going?" Standing up, Guy scanned the streets quickly until he spotted the running figure. "He doesn't know LA or anyone here, except us."

"Don't know." Spike's curiosity was aroused. "But let's follow him and find out."

**

"Another fucking brat!" Throwing on his coat, Nic rushed out of the Hyperion. "I've got four nephews, and they're all brats!" The vampire had put Connor to bed, and when he went back to check on the new Prince, he discovered the Childe gone. The room's window broken open. "Christ! When Angelus finds out that another Childe left the lair, he's going to. . . ." The vampire stopped in surprise as ahead of him were Spike and Guy. "Hey!" He yelled out, breaking into a run, as his two runaway nephews began to sprint in the opposite direction from the hotel. "Fucking kids! Get back here!"

Guy stopped and turned at the sound of his uncle's voice, but Spike kept running to keep from losing Connor.

"William!" Nic bellowed, wondering if half of LA could hear him. "I said to. . . ."

"We're following Con. . .Steven." Guy quickly explained. "We're wondering what he's up to."

"Connor went past here?" Grabbing Guy by the arm, Nic began chasing Spike. "Thank the gods! Now I just have to get you, William, and him back to the hotel safe and sound, and the world will be right again."

**

After calling a truce, Buffy and Djoser walked the streets of Sunnydale, while she explained to him everything she had found out from Giles. In return, he, after hearing about Willow and Dawn, was trying to locate Rack, since only demons could locate the warlock's lair.

"Anything?" Buffy asked. She had finished giving Djoser all the information and now just wanted to find Willow and Dawn.

"Not yet." Using all of his senses, Djoser knew he would pick up on the warlock's lair. It was just a matter of time.

"Hey!" A horrible suspicion was rising in Buffy. "You're not deliberately leading me away from Rack to punish me for Spike?"

Coming to an abrupt stop, Djoser turned to Buffy. The urge to hit her had returned. "Don't judge my actions by yours. I wouldn't hurt your innocent sister to get back at you."

"Listen." Djoser's words angered Buffy, even though a voice in her head whispered that she was being unreasonable. "I'm finding that I can't depend on anyone. Giles abandoned me for the stupid Council. Willow, my best friend, who has always been so level-headed, is now turning into a majik addict."

"Djoser." A group of vampires approached them, interrupting before their conversation escalated into another fight. "You need to finish your business with the Slayer now." Damon stopped a few feet from Buffy and Djoser. "We've been ordered back to LA immediately. Judelin is on his was to LA, and. . . ." The vampire looked first at Buffy and then at his nephew. "Your brother Connor has just returned from the hell dimension he had been in. And he's no infant anymore. He's almost of age." He gave Djoser a serious look. "To become our Clan's official Successor."

**

"We're going to take him down." Nic ordered as he, Spike, and Guy ran after Connor. "But don't injure him. Your Sire's already shitting bricks because you two ran off. We don't need to make things worse by hurting the new Childe on his first night home."

"Let him go for a bit." Spike advised. "That kid has a destination. He's not just running aimlessly. I want to know what he's up to."

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" Nic shouted. His nephews were pushing him toward a nervous breakdown. He was sure of it. "We grab him and then head back to the hotel pronto. I want to get the three of you back safely and then go collapse somewhere with Jack Daniels."

"Don't you find it odd that he runs off the first bloody night he gets back from a hell dimension?" Spike asked. "Something's up with that kid, and I think we should find out what."

"Alright." Nic conceded. "But we call Angelus and tell him what's going on."

"Where is He anyway?" Spike's head swiveled around, expecting Angel to suddenly appear. "And how did kid brother manage to sneak out past the Poofster?"

"Because the Poof. . .Angelus is out LOOKING FOR YOU TWO." Nic began shouting again. "Dumb shits! What did you think?"

"He's headed down that alleyway." Guy pointed out, happy to redirect Nic to another subject.

"He's stopping." The three vampires slowed to a walk as they watched Connor come to a halt. "Kid's talking to someone." Eyes focusing hard on his younger brother, Spike could see a shadowy figure standing in front of Connor.

"Hang on." Nic put an arm out, forcing Spike and Guy to come to a stop. "I know the man he's talking to. Saw a drawing of him when I was just a fledgling. That's Holtz, or. . . ." He squinted into the darkness. "Or maybe that's Holtz coming back as a mummy because fuck, does he look bad."

"Well what did you expect?" Spike asked. "Isn't he like two or three hundred years old?"

"It makes sense that he's here though." Guy said thoughtfully. "Since he was the one who kidnapped. . .Steven."

Even though the vampires were still some distance away, they could hear Connor as he greeted the older man. "Hi, dad."

~Part: 19~

Sunnydale, CA, November 2001

Frowning at Damon, Djoser couldn't help but wonder if his uncle was playing a bad joke on him. It seemed odd that the very subject that they had been talking about was now a reality. "What do you mean my brother is back and almost of age? He was only born. . . ."

"He was living in a hell dimension." Damon interrupted. "Time does not run concurrently from one dimension to another. He may have only been gone days here, but in the other dimension it was years. Now. . . ." He turned his attention to Buffy. "Do you need help with. . .her?"

"The Slayer and I have come to an agreement." Djoser quickly said, giving Buffy a meaningful look. "She too has heard about Judelin and was just alerting me about him." With an intent stare, he communicated a silent warning.

Buffy stared back at Djoser and then looked around at Damon and the minions behind him. Outnumbered, the situation was dangerous. "Yes. . .yes we have, and you can go back and tell Angel that I will back you against Judelin and the Ventrues." Hesitating a moment, she realized that once again she was promising help to the Tremeren vampires. It seemed that fate kept throwing her together with them. "If necessary, any or all of you can come here to Sunnydale and seek sanctuary."

Damon narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Buffy. "Judelin has now allied himself with the Council. You the Slayer answers to the Council, so how can you help us against him?"

"Trust me." Buffy allowed herself a small smile. "Me and the Council. . .not so tight. Djoser." She turned to the vampire. "Can you at least stay long enough to find this Rack for me?"

"He can't stay." Damon answered before Djoser could reply. "It's imperative that we return to LA as soon as possible. An order from our High Master himself." He gave Buffy an interested look, curious to see if she expressed any reaction to his reference to Angel. Their affair was common knowledge among most demons, and Damon too had heard the gossip.

"I'll leave a couple of my minions to help you." Djoser motioned to two of the vampires standing behind Damon. "Help the Slayer locate a warlock named Rack. Her younger sister may be in danger there. Back her up if necessary, and then when the job is done, return to LA." Turning back to Buffy, he gave her a cool nod. "I'll relay to my Sire your promise of assistance. And perhaps this time you'll keep your word to us."

**

Los Angeles, CA, November 2001

Standing in the shadows, Nic, Spike, and Guy were waiting for Angel to meet them as they watched Connor check into a shabby motel with Daniel Holtz.

"So why is he calling mummy man over there. . . ?" Spike asked Nic while waving his hand in the direction of Holtz. "Dad, when my Sire is his dad?"

"Who's calling me dad?" Angel appeared from behind them.

"Bloody hell!" Because he had been watching Connor and Holtz, Spike was caught by surprise at the appearance of Angel. "Thanks for the bleeding heart attack. Do you always have to creep up on people?"

"You're going to be suffering something more painful than a heart attack when we get back to the lair, boy." Angel growled out. "Running off like you did." Despite being relieved that his Childer and nephew were okay, he was nonetheless enraged with all of them for sneaking out.

"Your new son was calling Holtz dad." Nic answered Angel.

Turning his attention to the two figures walking along the motel's sidewalk, Angel watched Connor take Holtz by the hand to lead him to their room. "I guess for all practical purposes Holtz was his father all this time."

"So what are you going to do about it?" Nic asked Angel while trying to read what his brother was feeling.

"Gonna waste Holtz?" Spike asked hopefully. A good kill might make his Sire forget about punishing him.

"I don't know." Angel was still staring thoughtfully at Connor and Holtz. "I think I need to have a talk with Mr. Holtz. Nic. . . ." He turned to his brother. "Did you talk with Damon?"

"Yeah, and they should be on their way back to LA now."

"Good." Angel focused his attention on Spike and Guy. "Take these two back to the Hyperion and lock them in their rooms. "He gave the two younger vampires a harsh look. "And if you two even think about pulling anything else, you'll be drained into a coma and buried until the next century."

**

"I got what you asked for." Connor opened the motel door and allowed Holtz to enter.

"Good boy." Walking into the room, Holtz looked around before turning to take a sheet of newspaper from Connor. "Now, let's have a look at the date." He stared at the paper and then dropped it down on one of the beds. "Days. We've been gone only days."

"I don't like this place." Connor walked over to look out the window. "It's not like home."

Life in the hell dimension had aged Holtz. He was now an old man, tired and worn out. "Quortoth was never our home, son." He said to Connor while sitting down on one of the beds with a sigh of relief. "It was our prison. But I should have known that one day you'd find a way out."

Turning away from the window, Connor shrugged his shoulders carelessly. Finding a way out of Quortoth hadn't been hard. "The cracks were there already. I just made the slugs show me, that's all."

Holtz smiled proudly. "My boy is smart."

Crouching down, Connor placed his hand on Holtz's knee. "I wanted to kill him, yet when I saw him. . . ." He hung his head in shame. "I found that I couldn't."

"It's alright son." Holtz covered Connor's hand with his own. "Now is not the time." He looked down at the bent head affectionately. "You must go to him."

"No!"

Reaching down, Holtz put a hand under Connor's chin and tilted his head up. "Go back to Him, Steven. You need to walk in His world, learn from Him."

"Why are you doing this? Why are you making me go with Him? God gave me to you." Agitated, Connor's voice raised a notch.

"Yes. It was God's plan for us to be together. Nothing will ever persuade me otherwise. But now it's time for me to give you back."

"But he's a vampire."

"And you're the son of two vampires." Standing up, Holtz had a moment of doubt. Was he doing the right thing for Steven? "A very rare being. The vampires call them Blood-Childer."

"Then I'm not human." Connor stared down at the worn out motel carpet. "I'm a vampire, a demon."

"You're a special vampire, a Pure Blood. Your Father's Successor, a step away from being the next High Master of your Clan."

**

"You know. . . ." Walking back to the Hyperion, Spike had to complain to Nic. "I don't understand what the fucking problem is. We just went for a bite of pizza and a pint. Don't know why the High Poof is blowing such a gasket. It's not like we were cruising demon bars looking to kick arse."

"Well gee, let me think." Nic said sarcastically. "You snuck out without telling anyone where you were going. You didn't take bodyguards. You. . . ."

"Bodyguards!" Spike interrupted with a shout. "Why the bleeding hell do I want some useless minions trailing after me? Would just be a bloody bother." His voice lowered at the you-are-such-an-idiot look his uncle was giving him. "Would have had to buy them pizza and . . .and. . . ."

"Shut up, William." Nic's patience had run out. "Stupid fuck! Where were you when they were handing out brains?"

"Piss off, tossbag." Spike was feeling unjustifiably mistreated, first by Angel and now Nic. "Like you know anything, a frigging loser who no one wanted, including his own Sire and. . . ." He broke off, realizing that Nic's past was identical to his own.

"That's right." Nic stopped to stare Spike full in the face. "I fucked up bad, but now I'm trying to do it right. What about you?"

Swallowing hard, Spike found he didn't have an answer. His uncle had hit a nerve.

"You two," Nic resumed walking, "Djoser, and now Connor are the new generation of Blood-Childer for our Clan. It's imperative that you survive for the future of our Bloodline. You can't be careless. You can't be just running around wherever, whenever."

"Bloody hell." Spike swore but his voice was soft. Being a Blood-Childe was both a blessing and a curse. "A bloke's got no privacy or freedom. We're like. . . ." He turned to Guy. "Prisoners."

"That's right." Nic pulled out a pack of cigarettes and held it out to Spike as a peace offering. "That's the lot of a Blood-Childe."

"Aren't we just the luckiest vamps on earth." Muttering, Spike handed a cigarette to Guy, while again thinking about his dead cousin, Victor. "Now I finally understand what he was bitching about."

**

England, 1885

William couldn't help but grin widely as he watched his cousin, Victor entertain the entire pub by dancing on a table. Clapping his hands with the rest of the crowd, he tried to just enjoy himself for the moment and not think about how angry his Sire was going to be with him for sneaking out.

Like a whirlwind, Victor danced and danced. His energy was limitless. After some time though, thirst got the better of him. "Need a bloody break." He huffed and puffed, not caring that his behavior was humanlike. "'Nother pint here." He held up his mug to a passing barmaid.

"Perhaps we sh'd be gittin' back." William knew they had been gone a while and figured the longer they were gone, the angrier their Sires were going to be.

"Wot fo?" Victor reached out for the mug the barmaid was handing him. "We is free, mate. . .at least until they come. Then back t' the gaol."

"The gaol?" William didn't understand his cousin's choice of words.

"Yeah mate because we're prisoners." Standing up, Victor had finished his beer and was ready for more fun. "Fer da rest of ahr unlives."

**

Seeing Connor leave the motel, Angel saw his opportunity. He didn't want his Childe around when he had his private 'talk' with Holtz. Reaching the motel door, he pushed it open.

Sitting at the small table in the motel room with his back to the door, Holtz didn't need to turn around. He knew Angel was at the door; he had been expecting the vampire. "I can't recall. Do you require an invitation for a place like this? Oh well, it doesn't matter. You may come in."

Stepping through the door, Angel slammed it shut, and before Holtz could completely turn around in his chair, he had the man by the throat. "You stole my son!" He snarled as he lifted Holtz up by the throat.

"I kept your son alive. You murdered mine." Despite the strong hand around his throat, Holtz was still able to speak.

"Dad. I found food in this big metal box. . . ." Coming through the door, Connor broke off at the scene in front of him. Dropping the armful of junk food, he stepped closer, body poised in attack mode. "Let. Go. Of. Him." He shouted at Angel.

Hesitating a moment, Angel looked Holtz in the face. He knew he could snap the man's neck in a blink of an eye.

"Kill me now, and you'll lose him forever." Holtz' voice was no more than a whisper.

Letting go of Holtz, Angel took a step backward. He read hate in Connor's eyes. Another Childe. More hate.

"GET OUT!" Connor wanted to attack, but Holtz was shaking his head at him.

"Steven. Remember who He is." Holtz reminded him before turning to Angel. "Let him stay the night. One more night with me. I will talk to him, and then send him. . .home tomorrow. And you need not worry about his safety. I trained him well, and after all he is your son, your Pure Blood son."

"Why are you doing this?" Frowning, Angel didn't trust Holtz but knew that the human was right. If he pushed too much, he would lose Connor forever.

"I'm an old man now. I have nothing more to offer the boy. He needs to be back with you. . .his Father. I do love my son." A moment of vengeful satisfaction for Holtz as he saw the flicker of pain cross Angel's face at his use of the word 'son.' "I want to do right by him, so that he will always remember me with love."

Holtz's words jarred Angel. The man had revenged himself completely. He had a part of Connor that Angel would never be able to replace or take back. "All right, you talk to him." He spoke to Holtz. "But don't you or him try to leave the motel. I'll have my minions watching. And you. . . ." He looked Connor in the eye. "Be back no later than sunset tomorrow. If you're not, I will be back to personally escort you home."

**

Arriving at the Hyperion, Angel found Nic once again at the front desk reading the newspaper. "William and. . .Guy?" He asked walking up to his brother.

"Locked in their rooms with sentries guarding the doors." Nic answered, looking behind Angel for Connor. "Where's junior?"

"Back at the motel. I want some minions over there to keep watch. See to it." Turning, Angel headed for the staircase. Tired and emotionally drained, he had closed himself off, not wanting to talk, just brood.

"And what exactly are they suppose to watch?" Nic shouted at Angel's retreating back. "Daylight is coming. They won't be able to do anything."

Still climbing the stairs, Angel answered without looking back. "Leave a message on Cordelia's answering machine. The humans can relieve the minions when day breaks."

"Alright, but what's her fucking number?" Nic continued to shout, but this time Angel didn't bother to answer.

**

Stepping out of the shower, Spike was greeted by the sight of Angel, and the expression on his Sire's face was not encouraging. "Just took a shower." Nervously, he stated the obvious. "Is Con. . .Steven out there." He pointed to the bedroom.

"No." Was all that Angel said as he began stripping his clothes off. "Go get into bed."

Giving Angel an uncertain look, Spike exited the bathroom wondering what the hell was going on. Walking to the door, he opened it, and the minion standing guard quickly did an about face.

"My Prince." The minion bowed his head. "You are not allowed to leave the. . . ."

"Don't bloody well tell me what I can and can't do." Spike snapped out. "I'm not going anywhere. Just want to know where Con. . .err, my new brother is."

"Your new brother?"

"The new Prince!" Exasperated by the minion's stupidity, Spike grabbed him by the face and gave him a push. "Brain dead git."

"William!" Coming from the lobby, Nic had searched for Cordelia's number but hadn't been able to find it without knowing her last name. "Stop harassing the poor guy. Your Sire ordered that you were to stay in your room, which by-the-way, did Angelus come by here at all?"

"He's taking a shower and doing his best caveman impression. Doesn't speak, just grunts." Spike told his uncle. "So where did he stash my new brother?"

"He left him at the motel."

"WHAT?" Spike was outraged by the unfairness of it all. "He sneaks out and gets to stay out, and I get locked in my room! What the fuck is that about?"

"WILLIAM!" Angel stepped out of the bathroom. "Didn't I tell you to get into bed? Nic." He looked over Spike's head at his brother. "Did you arrange everything like I asked?"

"I will as soon as someone tells me this Cordelia's number." Exasperated and tired, Nic had had enough for one night.

"Her last name is Chase." Spike yelled out helpfully as Angel grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the room. "Look in the rolodex under the counter." He managed to give his uncle the last bit of information before Angel slammed the door shut.

~Part: 20~

Lying in bed, Spike was too unnerved to sleep. The tension in the room was so thick it felt corporeal as Angel lay there, not saying anything, just staring up at the ceiling.

"Bloody hell." He mumbled, jumping up out of bed. In edgy situations like this a smoke always helped. Grabbing his duster, he searched the pockets for his cigarettes.

"Not here." Finally speaking, Angel growled this out in a low voice.

Spike rolled his eyes, despite the fact that he actually was glad for an excuse to leave the room. "Fine. I'll just nip on down to the lobby then, and. . . ."

"You're not going anywhere." That's all Angel had to say as the tone of his voice conveyed the rest of his meaning, don't argue with me, boy.

Sighing, Spike threw his duster back over the chair. "I'm not going to run off again. I realize that what I did was wrong, and I won't do it again."

Lifting his eyebrows in disbelief, Angel could hardly believe his ears. "Excuse me, am I losing my hearing in my old age? Because I thought you just admitted that you were in the wrong, and that you won't do it again. If it isn't my hearing, then Judgment Day must be upon us."

"Very funny." Sitting down on the chair he had thrown his coat on, Spike frowned at Angel. "If I were you, I wouldn't be considering a career as a comedian."

Despite the emotional roller coaster he had been on because of Connor's return and his talk with Holtz, Angel had to smile at Spike. "Since the day I brought you home, I don't ever remember the phrase 'I won't do it again' coming out of your mouth."

"Yeah, well. . . ." Feeling some of the tension dissipate with his Sire's smile, Spike lay back down on the bed. "I'm going to try and behave better. I realize now that it's my duty as a Blood-Childe." Pausing he rolled on his side to look Angel in the face. "It's not easy though. I've spent so many years being fr. . . ." The word free almost slipped out of his mouth. "Being on my own, that it's hard to think that I have to be telling people where I'm going. That I need to have bodyguards following me everywhere. It's a whole new. . .lifestyle for me."

"But one that you were born into." Angel gave Spike another half grin. "You can't escape, you know."

"Yeah, I'm starting to get the picture." Turning over on his back, now it was Spike who stared up at the ceiling. "So, are you going to tell me what's going on with Con. . .Stev. . .my new brother?"

"He. . . ." Angel started to answer but then stopped, as the mention of Connor made him brood for a moment.

"He?" Spike prompted.

"William." Angel began to speak, but again hesitated. His mind filled with doubts that he found difficult to voice out loud. Taking his Childe's hand, he held it tight. "You promised never to leave me. You do remember that promise?"

"Yes, Sire." His hand was gripped so tightly that it hurt, but Spike ignored the pain as he was beginning to have some of his own misgivings. "I remember the promise." He answered, surprised at Angel's insecurity. Giving his Sire a thoughtful look, he wondered. 'Poofy is starting to act like a real poof. Did the frigging gypsies stop by and curse him again?'

**

"He thinks he can just order me around." A sullen Connor paced the small motel room. "Be back no later than sunset tomorrow." He mimicked Angel. "If you're not, I will be back to personally escort you home. Who the hell does he think he is?"

"Your Father." Holtz sat on the bed, his back against the headboard. "A Pure Blood like yourself, and now the High Master of your Clan. He's a powerful, respected vampire, and your destiny lies with him."

"My destiny?" Connor looked at Holtz with confusion. His childhood in Quortoth had consisted of survival and learning how to kill. He had no concept of destinies and planning for the future.

"You need to be with him. With him you will discover your true purpose and come to know who it is you are meant to be." Holtz continued in a gentle voice.

"And who is that?" Connor stopped his pacing.

"The next High Master of your Clan."

**

"Sire?" Looking sideways at Angel, Spike was a little tentative. Lifetimes could pass, and his Sire would still be a mystery to him. Was he the vicious vampire who had all of Europe trembling with fear, or the souled vampire, seeking redemption? "Do you want me to go and kill the old git?"

"No." A pensive Angel answered. "Killing Holtz would only alienate Connor even more."

"O-kay." If Holtz couldn't be killed, than Spike had no other plan of action. "So what do we do about him?"

"Holtz claimed that he would send Connor home to me, so I guess we wait and see if he keeps his promise."

Angel's words caused Spike to sit up with a start. "You're going to what - wait? The bloody Scourge of Europe is going to sit and wait?" Narrowing his eyes, he looked at his Sire suspiciously. "You feeling alright, Mate?"

Angel growled at Spike's manners but did not correct him. "I know that sitting around waiting is not my usual modus operandi, but at the time I couldn't force the issue. I read hate in my boy's eyes." He closed his eyes, remembering the way Connor had looked at him with loathing.

"So beat it out of him." Again, the solution was simple for Spike. "That's what Sires do to Childer who misbehave."

"Of course." The corner of Angel's mouth twitched. "Because that strategy worked so well with you."

Spike couldn't help but grin. He relaxed slightly at the teasing banter. "I made a resolution today, gonna start conducting myself like a Childe of the Bloodline. So you can now direct your energies toward baby brother, cause from now on I'm going to be a model of good behavior."

Now it was Angel's turn to grin and ask. "Are *you* feeling alright, Childe? A model of good behavior? You? Hell would freeze over before that happens."

"Well, come to think of it, I do have one bone to pick with you."

"I knew it." The good humored repartee had lightened Angel's mood. "A model of good behavior, my ass."

"This new Childe, Connor, Steven, whatever, is now your Successor, but I. . . ."

"He's not my Successor yet." Angel interrupted. "Not until he becomes of age."

"Well, he's going to be of age pretty bloody quick. And I don't see why he automatically becomes your Successor, just because he happens to be a Pure Blood. That's a load of. . . ."

"Have you and your uncle been comparing notes?" Angel raised his head to look at Spike closely. "Because he was just badgering me about this very same issue."

"Nic?" At the mention of uncle, Spike automatically thought of Nic before Damon.

"No, Damon." Angel answered. "He's pushing for Djoser to be named my Successor."

"Damon?" Spike's eyes widened in surprise, as he remembered all of Djoser's talk about their uncle desiring the position of High Master for himself. "Damon is supporting Djoser?"

"Yes." Angel frowned in disapproval. "But this isn't a conflict where we're drawing up sides. I plan to be around for many years to come, so who my Successor is, is a minor point. But I promise, Childe, when we get to Germany, I will give the matter serious thought. And just so you know, I haven't ruled out Djoser. I'm thinking that Connor will have to prove that he's superior to Djoser, before I name him Successor."

Spike could find no fault with Angel's decision. It was fair; let the superior vampire win. "For once, I agree with your judgment." Feeling unusually pleased with his Sire, he rolled over, draping his body completely on top of Angel. There was nothing like skin on skin. Nuzzling his face into the crock of his Sire's neck, he inhaled deeply. Sire's scent. The smell of comfort and protection.

"Another first." Angel wrapped strong arms around the Childe on top of him. "This day will be etched in my mind for the rest of my existence. The day my William promised to behave himself and agreed with a decision I made. Will wonders never cease?"

**

"So he's the new Pure Blood of our Clan." The vampire eyed a sleeping Connor with interest. "The one before him was Anton, who was born well over two hundred years ago."

"I understand your need for revenge against Angelus." Sitting at the small motel table, Holtz spoke in a low tone, so as not to wake his son. "But what guarantee do I have that you will do right by Steven?" He glanced quickly over at Connor.

Leaning back in his chair, the vampire whose sunglasses hid the expression in his eyes, gave Holtz a humorless half smile. "He is the one who was born in the position of High Master, and I am. . . , " He paused a moment "not much higher than a lowly minion. But years ago, I served the Old Master in Court, and I can *be* a valuable advisor to. . .Steven."

"But will you be a loyal one?" Holtz leaned forward slightly toward the vampire.

"Prophecy has said that this Pure Blood is special. That he will unite the vampires and save our kind from annihilation." Elder Snow radiated intensity. "I would be a fool to be anything but his loyal subject."

**

Kissing the side of Angel's neck, Spike's fangs itched. The desire to sink them in his Sire's flesh was overwhelming.

Sensing Spike's urge, Angel gave him a warning. "Careful, boy. You promised to behave, remember?"

Regretfully, Spike pulled his mouth away from the temptation of warm Sire's blood, running his lips across Angel's cheek and jaw line, stopping at Angel's mouth. "Yes, Sire." He whispered, trying to inject a note of submissiveness in his voice.

Angel couldn't help but grin at Spike's reluctant obedience. "You try me so, Childe, but. . . ." He pressed his lips hard against the mouth that was lightly touching his. "Unlife with you is never boring."

Spike wanted to taste Angel, so he pushed his tongue into his Sire's mouth, using it to lick and explore.

Angel bit down on the invading tongue, drawing blood, and causing a small yelp from Spike who immediately drew back. "Fucking hell! If you didn't want to kiss, you could have bloody well just said. . . ." He was cut off as Angel pulled his head back down, crushing their mouths together.

Biting down on his own tongue, Angel's mouth filled with blood, and Sire and Childe exchanged their life fluid in a vampire kiss.

**

Having found his release from the body under him, Wesley pulled himself out. His only concern had been to take care of his sexual need. No thoughts were given to the woman. "You know that sinking feeling you sometimes get the morning after?" He said while rolling off Lilah and lying back down on the bed. "It arrived early."

Stretching, Lilah smirked contently. "It's like a little death. Several, in fact."

Wesley didn't even bother to look at her. "Get out."

With a short laugh, Lilah rolled out of bed. "What? No sweet kiss? No when can I see you again?" Wesley's angry stare didn't intimidate her at all. "Watch the dirty looks. That's what got me going in the first place." Pulling on her clothes, she continued. "I'll give you this: you sure know how to channel your rage, frustration, and hate. Always a bigger turn on than love."

"You still here?" Wesley's tone was that of complete indifference.

Chuckling, Lilah buttoned her shirt. "I'm starting to like you, Wes. You're not making more of this than it is. Now don't be thinking about me when I'm gone."

Wesley's voice was cold and flat. "I wasn't thinking about you when you were here."

Pulling on her skirt, Lilah couldn't help the flicker of emotion that crossed her face for just a split second. "You're becoming as cold and dead as your former boss. Good thing too because I'm seeing tough times for Angel and his Clan." Picking up her jacket and bra, she began walking out of the room, but not before she tossed Wesley one more bit of information. "By the way, Judelin, the Ventrue High Master just arrived in LA. Guess things are going to start getting real interesting."

**

Pushing down with his hips, Spike took Angel completely inside of him. Closing his eyes, he threw his head back and allowed himself to luxuriate in the feeling of being one with Angel. His Sire throbbed within him, and Spike could feel the hardness, strength, and power that embodied the vampire Angelus.

"Christ, Childe." Angel said through gritted teeth, as his body began to frantically buck his hips upward. "Will you. . . ?" Sexual desire and the need for movement prevented him from saying anything more. Grabbing Spike's member, he began stroking it hard.

The fist around his cock rubbed with just the right pressure, causing Spike to lose control, driving himself downward, meeting each of Angel's upward thrusts. Tightening his inner muscles, he groaned with pleasure, feeling his orgasm approaching.

The cock in his hand spasmed, and Angel felt cool cum spill over his hand and down his wrist. One final thrust, and he shuddered; his essence flowed out, deep into his Childe.

Collapsing down on Angel's chest, Spike panted hard. Closing his eyes again, strong arms enveloped him. Cocooned within his Sire, sleep began to overtake him, but not before he whispered four words to Angel. "I love you, Father."

**

It was only a few hours later that a loud pounding woke Angel from a sound sleep.

"Angelus." Nic's voice bellowed through the door. "Get up. Damon and Djoser are back, and we have a visitor."

Aroused from a sound sleep, Angel couldn't help the loud growl.

"I heard that." Nic opened the door and stuck his head in. "You're still a crabby ass bastard when someone wakes you."

"Who's the visitor?" Gently untangling himself from Spike, Angel swung his legs out of bed.

"Wesley. Says he's got some information for us."

"I'll be down in a minute." Standing up, Angel began shuffling toward the bathroom. "Offer him something while he waits."

"Offer him something?" Nic asked in disbelief as he watched Angel disappear in the bathroom. "Like what? O-positive?"

**

"How much fucking longer are they going to talk?" Sitting in the Hyperion lobby, Nic grumbled to Damon and Djoser while peering into Angel's office. The vampire was hoping for a chance to speak to Wesley. "Would like to go back to bed and see if I can get another half hour sleep."

"What are you complaining about?" Damon sat back in a chair, sipping a mug of animal blood. He had just checked on his son, and his Childe was sleeping peacefully. "You didn't have to travel to and from Sunnydale in less than a twenty four hour period."

"No." Nic yawned widely. "Instead I had the pleasure of chasing after William and your brat."

"My brat!" Damon looked offended.

"Yeah, the two dumb shits decided to go out for pizza. No bodyguards. No nothing. And then to top it off, Angelus' new brat also decided to. . . ." Nic broke off, as Connor walked through the hotel's main entrance. "The Clan's newest Childe cometh." He said with a grin, eyeing the approaching Connor. "First lesson for you, ask permission before leaving the lair."

With a superior smirk, Connor hid his true feelings of fear and insecurity. "I'm a Pure Blood." He announced with a false bravado. "I don't ask permission from a Half Blood like you."

Speechless for a moment, Nic straightened up. "Fucking brat! I'm your uncle and elder, and you don't speak to me like that."

Pausing for a moment, Connor looked over his two uncles and half brother. Remembering Holtz's words about his duty and destiny, he told them arrogantly. "I'm the first Pure Blood in more than two hundred years. It is my destiny to become the next High Master, and all of you, one day will be kneeling at my feet."

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