*********************************************
Sprawled in a comfortable chair, Darien allowed his
gaze to roam over the odd collection of people
scattered around the Magic Box whom had become his
family. Buffy, Spike and Bobby were sparring in the
back room under the watchful eyes of Giles while Tara,
Willow, Claire, and Eberts were sitting around a
table, pouring over the books that Claire had sent for
from her family home.
< Funny, last year I was a reluctant agent with a
gland stuck in my head, > mused Darien as he cradled a
book in his lap. < A week ago, I was a vampire with a
neat trick, and now I'm something called a "Crimson
Child". >
"Are you brooding again?" asked a female voice,
dragging him out of his thoughts. Startled, Darien
looked up to find Willow regarding him with an amused
smirk on her face. "Cause if you are, I'm gonna have
to invite Angel down so the two of you can hold a
brooding contest."
Chuckling, Darien shook his head. "Not brooding," he
objected. "I was just remembering how strange my life
has become in only a few months time."
"Yeah, things turn strange fast on the Hellmouth,"
remarked Buffy, walking out of the backroom to grab a
water bottle that was resting on the counter. "I
mean, you showed up here as a federal agent and ended
up staying as this way cool vampire with a few
interesting tricks." She took a long drink from the
bottle before dropping it back on the counter and
strolling over to him. "C'mon. Your turn."
A puzzled frown crossed Darien's face. "My turn? For
what?"
"To learn to fight, mate," replied Spike, lounging
against the open door frame as if he didn't have a
care in the world. "If your gonna be helping this
little gang, ya need to be able to hold your own." He
shrugged. "And once word gets out about your little
'talent', you can bet a few vamps are gonna come here
trying to either take you out or see what you're made
of."
"But I can get out of that easily," protested Darien,
unfolding his long frame from the chair as he
carefully placed the old book on the table beside
Claire. A thought to the gland and the
strange-familiar-yet-not feeling ghosted over his
skin, carrying with it the quicksilver that outlined
him in liquid mercury before solidifying and rendering
him invisible. Bobby, Eberts, and Claire didn't bat an
eye at his theatrics, but a few startled gasps ran
through the rest of the group.
Spike cocked his head as if he was studying Darien
before he nodded once. "Right, let's see how good that
little trick is against a Master vampire," he stated
before gesturing into the training room. "Go on in and
let's see if I can find you while you're invisible."
"Okay," agreed Darien before slipping past Spike and
into the back room. Buffy scampered into the room and
quickly folded up the tumbling mats so the dents
created by Darien's feet wouldn't be visible when he
walked, making the challenge just a bit harder for
Spike. Everyone crowded into the room near the door
and watched with anxious gazes as Spike calmly
strolled to the center of the room.
< Glad I still wear sneakers, > mused Darien as he
watched the silver-colored world around him. Spike
calmly stood on the hard wood floor with his head
titled back slightly and his eyes closed as if he was
silently listening for something. After a few minutes,
Darien could feel the restlessness start but he
clamped down on it, refusing to fidget, when suddenly,
Spike's face shifted to reveal his demon and golden
eyes snapped open to focus on Darien. < Aw, crap! >
On silent feet, Darien scampered across the room to
stand close enough to Giles to, hopefully, distract
Spike, but not close enough for the Watcher to feel
the chill from the quicksilver. He returned his
attention to Spike just as the older vampire glided
across the floor in his large, clunky boots that made
no more noise than Darien's feet did, and with a
start, realized that Spike was following the same path
that Darien had just walked. The invisible vampire
knew that Spike was somehow tracking him but couldn't
figure out how. However, since Spike was drawing
closer to him, he decided to worry about it after this
little test was over with, and carefully crept back
along the line of people, brushing quicksilver-cooled
fingers over Willow's bare arm, causing her to yelp in
surprise.
Instantly, Spike's golden gaze swung around to fix on
Willow and a predatory grin crossed his face as he
deliberately strolled down the room with his duster
flaring out around him. Darien swallowed nervously and
felt his demonic instincts kick in, telling him to
RUN! Spinning, he raced across the room only to crash
to the floor when Spike tackled him, and the
quicksilver flaked off with a soft tinkling sound,
revealing Darien, flat on his back with Spike
straddling his waist, effectively pinning the lanky
vampire to the floor.
"How were you able to follow me?" asked Darien,
frowning at the peroxide blond vampire that was still
sitting on him.
Spike grinned and rose to his feet before offering
Darien a hand up. "You forgot two things about
vampires, pet," began Spike, smirking at Darien. "The
first thing is that our senses are heightened,
including smell. The second is that regardless of
anything else, we're still demons. And demons can tell
where another demon is in a vague sense."
"So you were basically following your nose to find
me," clarified the young vampire, rubbing the back of
his head.
"In a way. Go invisible again," ordered Spike,
stepping back. With a shrug, Darien allowed the cool
liquid to coat him once more and he quickly faded from
sight. Then, Spike glanced at Bobby over his shoulder.
"Slip into game-face and tell me what you see."
Bobby's face shifted to that of his demon and he gazed
at Darien with golden eyes. Those same eyes widened
slightly in surprise. "I can see him!" gasped Bobby,
his voice filled with awe.
Everyone, except Spike turned to stare at the stocky
vampire. "What are you talking about?" inquired
Claire, her voice filled with scientific curiosity.
"I can see Darien standing there. Or rather, I can see
a vague outline of SOMETHING standing there,"
clarified Bobby.
"Apparently a vampire's vision covers a wider spectrum
than a regular humans," mused Claire, her eyes
unfocused as she worked to process this new
information. Darien groaned and quickly let the
quicksilver fall away from his body. He had seen that
gaze directed at him more times than he wanted to
count, and it usually occurred right before Claire
whipped out her pen and clipboard to start taking
notes on whatever test she had him going through.
"Well, I get the message," announced Darien, holding
his hands up in mock surrender. "I'll learn how to
defend myself from those things that can always see
me." Spike smiled and went to help replace the mats on
the floor.
************************************************
Across the country in a dark room, a dozen people sat
around a table, candlelight tossing strange shadows
over their ridged faces and causing golden eyes to
glow. They were twelve of the older and more powerful
vampires in the country, and it was an alarming rumor
that had brought them together.
"Has it been confirmed, yet?" demanded a man in a
pinstripe business suit.
The regal woman sitting at the head of the table
nodded, her honey curls bouncing around her face. "It
has," she replied. "The Accursed One has been sired in
California on the Hellmouth." Angry mutterings rose up
from the vampires before the woman tapped a
candlestick on the table to get everyone's attention.
"I suggest we strike now while he is still young."
"What do you suggest, Miriam? Send a bunch of fledges
out there to overwhelm him, or would minions work as
well?" sneered a woman with muddy brown hair pulled up
into a severe bun at the base of her neck.
A smile ghosted over Miriam's face. "I suggest that we
make this a group effort," she replied. "Each of us
will select a childe that we can trust and send them,
with a group of minions, out to California to deal
with this situation. After all, I doubt that any of
them would wish to be cursed with their souls again."
General murmurs of agreement floated through the room
and everyone leaned forward to begin planning the
destruction of the Accused One.
***************************************
In a brightly-lit conference room in England, a
similar scene was being played out. Nine people in
business dress were gathered around an oval table
scattered with books, all open to descriptions of a
vampire that an Italian monk named "The Child of the
Crimson Redemption".
"Any ideas what to do about this 'Crimson Child'?"
inquired a balding man as he gestured at the books.
"We could send a group to California to destroy this
creature," suggested a broad shouldered man with a
scow at the books. "Just because it's been seen in the
presence of the Renegade Slayer doesn't mean that it
is immune to a wooden stake."
Around the table, heads nodded in agreement. "Right.
We'll have a team, armed and ready to go in an hour,"
announced the balding man as he stood up. The others
followed suite and quickly gathered up the books
before leaving the room.
*************************************************
Angel sighed as he rolled over in his bed and tried to
desperately fall asleep. He had just finished a
troubling case involving a group of Kventish demons
who decided that LA was the perfect place to set up
shop and open another Hellmouth for their own use. It
had taken him nearly seventy-two hours to finally
track down the lair and convince the demons that their
plan was very hazardous to their health.
Unfortunately, that meant he went that entire time
without sleep and now he was ready to crash into
oblivion until he was fully rested. Except the nagging
worry about where Drusilla and Darla were and what
they were up to was keeping him from sleep.
< Of coarse, whatever trouble they get into is your
fault, > whispered Angelus, as he pulled the covers up
over his head in a vain attempt to shut out his
demon's whispering. < You abandoned them. >
"Shut UP!" growled Angel, pressing his hands over his
ears in a truly childish manner, but at this point, he
didn't care. All he wanted was a few hours of rest
until he was forced to face the world again.
Suddenly a scream echoed through the Hyperion and
Angel scrambled from his bed, grabbing a sword on his
way out of the door of his rooms. Barefoot, he raced
down to the lobby ready for anything, but paused next
to Wesley, who was sitting on the floor with a moaning
Cordelia in his arms. Without asking, he knew what had
happened: a vision from the Powers that Be.
He knelt next to Wesley and gently laid his sword on
the marble floor as he stared at the brunette.
"Cordelia, what did you see?" he asked, softly.
"Sunnydale, and a mob of humans and vampires after a
rather good looking guy," she reported after
gratefully accepting the aspirin and water Gunn held
out for her. "The vamps were just chasing him but the
humans were hiding, ready to ambush this guy."
Angel resisted the urge to sigh as he stood up and
grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil off of the desk.
Following Cordelia's descriptions, he quickly sketched
a face of a man in his thirties with haunted eyes.
"Wesley, you, Cordelia, and Gunn hold down things
here," he said as he scooped up his sword. "I'll get
packed and start out for Sunnydale immediately. If
anything happens, you can call me on my cell phone."
Turning, he returned to his room and tossed the sword
on his bed as he opened his closet, grabbing clothes
to take with him. He hoped that Giles or the others
knew who the man was, but he wasn't counting on them
knowing a strange man unless he had been causing
trouble in Sunnydale.
"Angel?" The quiet voice broke through his thoughts
and he turned to find Cordelia leaning against his
open door, a concerned look on her face. "Have you had
a chance to get ANY sleep yet?"
"I'll get some sleep later," he replied, pulling on a
pair of pants before grabbing a large duffel bag out
of his closet. "The Powers sent you a vision for a
reason and I have to get to Sunnydale before it's too
late." He looked around his bedroom, trying to decide
what he wanted to take with him when a warm hand on
his arm stopped him. He looked down, into Cordelia's
worried gaze.
"I worry about you when you push yourself this hard,"
she said. She sighed and tried to offer a comforting
smile. "Look, I'll call Giles and tell him to warn
Buffy about a sudden increase of nasties and you can
at least sleep until sunset. If you tried driving
right now, you'd probably fall asleep behind the wheel
and crash your car." A smirk crossed Cordelia's face.
"After all, it's not like you can drive in the
sunlight anyway." He resisted the urge to remind her
of the tinted windows on his car, but realized that
she was right. He was in no shape to be driving to
Sunnydale, not until he got some sleep.
He smiles at her. "Okay, I'll get some sleep before
heading out to Sunnydale," he conceded, rubbing his
eyes with the heels of his hands. "You call Giles and
have him warn everyone. Also, try and describe the guy
that they should keep an eye out for."
"Right" agreed Cordelia. She turned and left Angel
alone in his room. He removed the duffel bag from his
bed and flopped down on the dark covers, asleep before
his head hit the pillow.