****************

Sebastian walked with the souled vampire, his eyes locked dead ahead as they traveled along the dark, downtown streets of Sunnydale. Neither one of them had said a word since leaving the mansion, not even about what they discovered.

They had gone there after finding that Dylan had indeed followed orders and let Kenneth and his group take Buffy and herself. Connor had just come to when they arrived, but Willow was in pretty bad shape.

The two had headed right back to the Magic Box after that. Angel had volunteered to take the still unconscious old man there while the others had gone to checkout Sebastian’s claims of betrayal.

The shop was filled Scoobies, who were mostly gathered around the ex-Head of the Council they had tied to a chair. Each member present bore the same expression of disgust and hatred for the unconscious man. And none of them seemed upset by the large bruise starting to form on his face, or pointed out that Angel might have bound him a little too tightly.

Dawn was the first to notice their return. The discontent for the Watcher melted off her face and was replaced by worry. She was silently begging the vampire to have some better news for her. But Spike could only drop his head, telling her that there was none.

“I take it you did not find them,” Giles said.

The vampire shook his head. “No. They abandoned the mansion a while before we got there.”

“Where else might they have gone?”

The question seemed to be directed at the group, but everyone’s eyes turned to the young boy that had accompanied Spike. Even the children, who had been hiding under the loft, had turned their attention to him.

“Kid says he doesn’t know,” Spike said, glaring at the boy before turning back to Buffy’s old Watcher. “But said Tweed Boy might.”

Giles considered Travers for a moment. “That may be true. But he would never help us.”

“Especially since he kind of did all this,” Xander said.

“That would be working against his own gains,” Oz added.

Andrew sighed, leaving the children under the loft to join the grownups, ever ready to add his own useless two cents. “Yeah, to bad we don’t have Wonder Woman’s magic lasso of truth. Then we could just make him tell us.”

As the young man continued to stare sadly at the old Watcher, the rest of the group exchanged a look.

“Andrew, you’re a bloody genius!” Giles exclaimed, heading off to the back room.

“What? We actually have a magic lasso of truth? Why wasn’t I told about this?”

**********

Buffy slowly opened her eyes. Her head was throbbing, causing her to groan as she came back into consciousness. The child inside of her was being its normal, active self, kicking against her ribcage like his sister used to be so fond of doing. Groaning, the blonde reached to touch her stomach, only to find her arms restrained.

That got her attention, causing Buffy to fully forget the slumber she had been enjoying. She began to jerk wildly at her arms, but could not lift them any higher than a few inches off the bed. When she pulled at her feet, she found that they, too, were bound.

“You might want to calm yourself,” a cool voice said. “You wouldn’t want to upset the baby, would you?”

Buffy lifted her head the best she could and peered off into a dark corner of the dim room. A sleek figure sat there; the top part of her body hidden in the blackness, leaving only her perfect legs crossed in the moonlight. The moon was the only thing providing any light from an open window, and Buffy found it nearly impossible to make out the woman.

“Who are you?” the blonde asked. “Where’s my daughter?”

“She’s fine. She’s with my husband.”

Slowly, the woman rose from her chair, but her face was still hidden. Even as she walked across the room and to the foot of Buffy’s bed, her features were nothing but darkness.

“That can’t be comfortable,” the woman mused, before bending down and disappearing from the slayer’s sight completely. There was a cranking sound, and Buffy felt herself being raised to a sitting position. Satisfied, the woman stood back up. “There, that’s better. Isn’t it?”

“Not quiet,” the slayer said, jerking once more on the restrains.

“I’m afraid those are rather necessary for the time being.”

Now that she was sitting up, Buffy looked around the room.

It was old, and looked as if it had seen better days. The walls were dingy, with wallpaper that was cracked and peeling off. There was old medical equipment that had long ago been abandoned and was gathering dust. And there was a track on the ceiling for a privacy sheet.

Oh, God, she was in a hospital room!

Panic unintentionally set in, causing her stomach to turn as she fought once more for her freedom. But her bonds held strong, leading the slayer to believe that perhaps they had given her something. Yeah, now that she thought about it, she did feel kind of weak.

“Please, calm down,” the woman said again.

Buffy had every intention of fighting the request, and even saying a few choice words that mothers should not say, when the woman sat down on the bed. As the slayer looked up, ready to let her venomous words fly, she found herself staring into a pair of deep, piercing eyes. She found herself transfixed by them, unable to look away or fight. They caused Buffy to settle back and relax.

“There,” the woman said warmly, almost sounding like her mother. “Isn’t that better?”

A familiar tightness twisted in the blonde’s stomach, causing her to scrunch up her face from the pain and draw in a sharp breath, the calm she had felt now forgotten.

Oh, God, not now. Please not now.

The smile on the dark-haired woman’s face grew bright and excited. “He’s coming. My boy is coming.”

**********

The first thing Travers was aware of was the blast of cold water that hit his face. He gagged a bit, then opened his eyes. The vampire backed away from him, a now empty glass clutched in his hand. Mr. Giles was seated in front of the old Watcher.

“Good morning, Starshine,” a brown-haired man said. Travers recognized him as one of the slayer’s friends, though he had never bothered to learn the boy’s name, since he was of no importance.

Ignoring the young man, Travers kept his attention on the fellow Brit. “How good it is to see you again, Mr. Giles. Forgive me if I do not stand up and greet you properly.”

Giles’ eyes remained narrow, but Travers ignored him in favor of testing his restraints. He pulled at the rope that bound his wrist together behind his back, gritting his teeth from the pain that shot up his injured arm. They had at least removed the arrow, and, thanks to the tight ropes, they had effectively stopped the bleeding. Knowing Rupert, they probably even bandaged the wound.

Soft to the end.

That was why the man in front of him was an unsuitable watcher. He let his emotions get the better of him. Emotions were for the weak. Leaders, real leaders, couldn’t have them; they would just get in the way. Rupert never did learn that lesson. But then, that was why Travers had become the head of the Council and he did not.

Travers glanced at the floor around him and snorted.

“A truth spell, Rupert? How very like you,” the old man mocked. “The mystical, hands-off approach.”

“This coming from a guy who uses women and children to fight his battles?” Ms. Faith said. She quirked an eyebrow upward, considering Travers like he was some exotic dish her mother was trying to get her try just once, before asking, “Once we get the info, we can do the hands-on thing all we want, right?”

“By all means,” Rupert said, never taking his eyes off the old man.

Travers couldn’t help but snort again. Yeah, he’d believe that when he saw it for himself.

They had him in a training room, probably the one they had set up for Ms. Summers in the back of that dreadful little store Rupert owned. The equipment was no where near the standard that they used at the Council headquarters; most was old, worn and looked as if they had seen far better days. Travers was surprised that, trained on this equipment, Ms. Summers lasted as long as she had.

The group that had gathered before him was made up of some of the players in the game; Rupert, the vampires, the miracle child, and Ms. Faith. There was that one friend of Ms. Summers who had come to watch the festivities and greeted him so warmly when he awoke, but Travers pegged him as little more than a bit player.

And then there was the boy.

Sebastian sat Indian style on top of a large stack of mattresses, watching the old man. His face was even and unreadable, just like it always was.

Funny how Travers always thought that to be an asset, and wished he would teach Dylan such a trick; now that very asset had proven to be the means of the Watcher’s downfall. He couldn’t read the boy. He hadn’t been able to tell what he was thinking and planning to do. Now, here Travers sat, tied to a chair being interrogated by a group of inept and fairly stupid people because of his own failing with the child.

“Well,” the onetime Head of Council said. “Best be on with it, I suppose. Don’t want to keep that lovely little couple of psychos waiting, do we?”

“Pot and kettle there, mate,” the younger vampire said coolly.

“Yes, I suppose you would say that,” Travers bit back.

He heard it growl at him but paid it no mind. The older one, Angelus, had stepped up and held his grandchilde at bay. After all, if they killed him now, they wouldn’t get the information they wanted, now would they?

Once sure William the Bloody wasn’t about to rip Travers’ throat out, Angelus’ son asked, “Are we sure that the spell is working?”

“Only one way to find out.” Ms. Summers’ friend took a step closer to the captive, and asked, “Hey, Grandpaw. What do you think of our little vampire friends here?”

Briskly, Travers answered, “That the world would have been far better off if Ms. Summers had done her job and destroyed both of these creatures as her duty calls for her to do, instead of whoring herself out to them which released Angelus and now will potentially destroy the world.”

“Looks like it’s working,” the carpenter muttered to himself before something the old man said struck him. “Whoa, wait. Go back to that ‘destroy the world’ thing.”

“That’s why you freaked when I told you about Buffy,” Sebastian spoke up from his perch. “Because Kenneth and Diana are planning on doing something more than just taking the baby, aren’t they? It’s more than just payment.”

“Payment?!” Spike barked, his eyes flashing yellow.

“Of course it is more than payment.”

Angel was having a hard time keeping Spike back this time. The ex-Watcher thought that perhaps it was time he took over this interrogation before Travers blurted something else out that would surely cause his demise before they knew everything.

“Payment for what?” Giles asked with a controlled voice.

“They brought Ms. Rosenberg back from the Shadow Realm for me,” he explained. “It was discussed then. They helped me with the problem of getting my damphry back, I would help obtain one for them. The agreement was struck again after I had them raise Ms. Summers for me so I could break Dylan in properly.”

“Break her in properly,” Spike said through his teeth.

Chuckling, Travers answered, “Nothing like a mother witnessing their child’s darkest moment. Brakes even the most stubborn spirit.”

This time, Angel wasn’t able to hold the vampire back. In a flash of black, Spike had knocked Giles out of the way, grabbed the old man by collar, and lifted him and the chair he was tied to upward.

“What did you do to her?” he growled, the demon threatening to surface at any moment.

The Head Watcher blinked once, his jaw hanging from surprise as he stared at the vampire before him. Then, a wicked grin grew on his face.

“She didn’t tell you,” Travers mused happily.

The tone reminded Spike of Angelus; that ‘I’m enjoying this pain I’m about to cause you’ with just a hint of the true insanity behind his eyes. And Angelus was crazy, more so than Drusilla could ever dream to be. To his grandsire, death was his art; his passion. He didn’t kill for food. He didn’t kill because he was hungry. He killed because he liked to. It was their nature, that’s true enough, but most had their limits; Angelus did not.

And it was terrifying that a human being had just reminded him of the old bastard.

“Well, let me be the first to congratulate you then, William the Bloody, on producing a child that is just as good at the kill as you.”

“What?”

“That precious little girl of yours, your own little redemption, is nothing more than a killer.”

“That’s a lie!” Sebastian barked defiantly.

“I’m under a truth spell, boy,” the old man pointed out, savoring the look on the vampire’s face. “How could it be a lie?”

The room was silent for a long moment, none of them daring to even breathe as they absorbed the information. Now that they knew, about what Dylan had done, things were making sense. How she was trying so hard to act like everything was normal. Why she never once spoke about what had occurred during her absence. And that look, the knowing one that she and Buffy were always passing. Everything about his daughter’s actions over the past month just fell into place and formed a more horrid picture than he could have ever imagined.

Oh, God. What had this lunatic done?

Spike let go of the old man’s shirt, causing the chair to fall back hard and scrape against the floor. If there was one thing that had hardly ever happened in his life, it was him being struck speechless. Buffy had done it a couple of times - once when she told him about Dylan and when she had returned from the dead - but those had been the only times. Now, the onetime bleached blond was at a loss for words, and could just stare at the man who had taken his daughter’s innocence.

“Dylan killed someone?” Connor asked.

“Broke his neck like she had been doing it all her life,” Travers stated proudly. “One well placed kick, and that, as they say, was that. The force twisted his head clean around his body. There are pictures, you know. Crime scene photos. I’m sure that a… person like yourself would love to have one to mount on his wall.”

“It’s all your fault,” Sebastian countered, defending his friend. “You started the whole thing! Dylan was just defending herself, like you knew she would.”

“Of course I knew she would,” he barked. “Self preservation is a fundamental drive found in all creatures. Even in backstabbing little things like you.”

“Hey! Lay off, Grandpa,” Faith bit coldly, stepping forward. “Look, I’m all willing to lay the colossal smack down you have comin’ for what you did to those kids - not to mention the shit you put me and B through way back when - but the way I figure it, we got more important things to do right now than kick your crusty old, British ass all the way to hell like you deserve. So why don’t you start singin’ like the good little canary Giles turned you into and tell us where in the hell B and Pickle are.”

“They’re not back at the mansion?” Travers asked, sounding surprised. “Well, then, I suppose you wouldn’t have went through all this trouble if they were.”

“So you don’t know?” Faith asked.

“Not an exact location, no.”

The brunette slayer shook her head, a small grin growing on her face. “Looks like it’s ass kickin’ time, then.”

“You don’t know exactly,” Giles interrupted, stepping forward before Faith could throw the first punch. “But you have a general idea, then?”

Travers made a face. “Really, Rupert, use your head. They need the child. Where would you take a woman who is about to give birth soon?”

“A hospital.”

“Or somewhere like one, with medical supplies.”

Angel said, “Xander.”

“On it,” the carpenter said, taking off for the door that led into the show room to tell the other what to look for.

“Of course, they could care less if Ms. Summers makes it, but the child must live,” Travers said more to himself than them.

Giles pressed the old man. “Why? What are they planning on using the baby for?”

Travers sighed. “I told you this already. They want to use it to destroy the world.”

“How?”

A tiny grin reappeared on Giles old boss’s face. “Substantia Seco.”

Travers watched as his old employee turned several shades whiter, his eyes growing large behind his glasses. Well, he would be proud of Rupert for knowing the reference, if he didn’t hate him so much.

“Substantia Seco?” Angel repeated. The words felt strange in his mouth. He never was any good with Latin. “Doesn’t that mean-.”

“Divided Spirit,” Spike provided. “Roughly translated.”

Travers smiled at him. “Give the beast a pat on the head.”

“Dear, Lord,” Giles said.

Oh, no. That look wasn’t good.

“What have you done?”

“Made a pact with the devil,” Travers said, leaning back to make himself comfortable. “Don’t worry so much, Mr. Giles. You might not have come prepared, but I most certainly have.”

“What do you mean?” Sebastian asked.

The old man glanced at the child. He knew what he meant; there was no way he couldn’t. But, still, he had asked and, when Travers opened his mouth, the truth would come out no matter what.

“Dylan has her assignment, and, unlike you, I do not think that she is about to turn on me. She’ll do her job. This was what she was born for, to stop evil such as this. And you know she has to stop it, don’t you, Rupert?” The old man smiled wickedly.

She would do her job, he knew she would.

That baby would not live long enough to even take its first breath. His granddaughter would make sure of that.

**********

“Where are they?”

The room was busy, everyone trying to get everything ready for the ceremony later that evening. The preparation was taking longer than expected, since they had to move everything from the mansion and had not been able to focus on this task.

And now there was an annoying little girl buzzing about, slowing things down even more.

Kenneth turned from one of his followers, and plastered a large, faux smile on his face that adults use with pestering children.

“I told you. Your grandfather and Sebastian had some business to take care of,” the middle-aged man explained. “But they’ll be here soon enough.”

Dylan frowned at the man. Her arms were crossed and the look on her face said she didn’t believe him.

God, he couldn’t wait to be rid of her. Just a few more hours, and her part will be done and he would never have to look at her angelic little face ever again.

“Emily.”

A random cult member appeared at his side. She was an older woman, with gray hair and a wrinkled face. She looked like she should be home baking cookies for her grandchildren, not participating in cult activity.

“Why don’t you help Dylan get ready?” Kenneth asked her.

“Of course,” she answered in much the same tone before turning to make the child leave with her.

Dylan continued to frown, but then followed her now assigned chaperon.

Drawing in a deep breath, she let it out slowly. Grandfather wasn’t here, and neither was Bastian. Well, she guessed that didn’t change anything. She knew what she had to do. And, God forgive her, she would do it.

Yeah, she was going to get ready.

She just wondered if Kenneth and Diana were.

**********

“Any luck?” Angel asked as he walked into the front room where the Scoobies were seated.

The others that had been present at the ‘interrogation’ were spread about the room, taking up any free space they could find.

Connor had volunteered to watch the prisoner while they held a meeting up front.

After leaving Joyce back at the hospital with Willow, he and Faith had high-tailed it back to the Magic Box, both more than ready to do their share. The young man might be a bit bruised from the hit he took, but he was still good for the fight.

“Nothing yet,” Xander said, standing over Van and Anya, who were about to perform a location spell.

There were buildings drawn on the floor with names written under them: Sunnydale General, the VA hospital, even a couple of veterinary offices. Any place they could think of with medical supplies had a spot represented within the crudely made map of Sunnydale.

It was easy for Angel to forget that the ten-year-old had gypsy blood in him. He had some power, and, with Willow out of commission, he was the logical choice to do a spell. Oz didn’t appear to enjoy the idea, but he said nothing and just watched their conjuring.

“Substantia Seco,” Spike said, his eyes resting on Giles. “What does that have to do with my son?”

Giles stood at the table, searching through a pile of books that the others had been going through earlier that evening, while they waited for him to answer the question.

“Andrew,” he called, never lifting his eyes from his task. The young man fumbled to his feet. “Take the children to the hospital and wait there with Joyce.”

“Um, what about…?” The shopkeeper nervously gestured towards Van, who was still concentrating on the spell he and Anya were trying to perform.

“I’ll send him along later with Anya,” Giles answered.

Swallowing hard, Andrew nodded his head, then went to collect the two Harris children.

Cash didn’t know what was going on; just that it was something bad. He briefly looked up to his father, as if Xander would give him some sort of answer, but he could only offer his son a small smile for reassurance.

Jessie was a bit harder to make leave. She had been around longer than her little brother, and knew good and well what that vibe in the shop meant. There was a good chance that someone wasn’t coming back.

“Daddy,” she said in a small voice, pleading with him to go with them.

“I’ll be okay. I promise.”

Xander bent down and kissed the top of his daughter’s dark head, silently praying that it wouldn’t be the last time.

“You too, Dawn,” Giles added.

“What?! Why? I can help!”

The older Watcher found the book he was looking for, and began to flip through the pages. “Not in this you can’t.”

Dawn was about to object again, when Spike cut her off. “Go on, lil’ bit. Do as Rupes says.”

“I’m not a kid anymore, you know. I can help in the fight.”

“I know,” Spike agreed. “That’s why I need you to go with ‘em. In case something happens, we need you to make sure your mum and the kiddies are kept safe.”

“Yeah, Dawnie,” Xander agreed, sending her a pleading look. She sighed, and the carpenter added, “Please. For me.”

She nodded towards the kid Spike had dragged in earlier, that was now sitting on top of the counter. “What about him?”

Sebastian looked up at the young woman and raised an eyebrow as if to ask ‘are you going to make me leave?’

“I know Kenneth and Diana far better than any of you do,” he said before dropping his gaze back towards his hands. “Besides, I helped make this mess.”

Letting out a frustrated groan, Dawn stood up from seat and headed towards Andrew and the kids. “Fine. But if any of you end up…” She reached over and covered Jessie’s ears, “D-E-A-D, don’t come crying to me.”

She gave them a look, trying to hide the fact that she was scared, then turned to head out into the night. As the door swung closed, Angel heard Cash ask, “Andrew, what’s Dee-Ad?”

Faith took Dawn’s perch on the stairs. “Well, now that the kiddies are gone...” The brunette slayer glanced down at Van who was still concentrating hard on the spell and then up to Sebastian. “Mostly, anyway, why don’t you tell us grownups the stitch about this substance secto thing.”

Ignoring her comment, Giles asked her, “Do you know this?”

The Watcher turned the book in his hand around to allow the slayer to see the picture inside. It was a simple drawing, a fingernail moon with something that looked like an eye. She studied it for a moment, then blinked.

“Yeah, I’ve seen it before.”

“Where?”

She shrugged. “Couple of the murdered cult members down in South America had it tattooed on their bodies. Why?”

“I was afraid you would say that.” Sighing, Giles took one last look at the book his hands, then placed it on the counter. “Do you know the story of how the first vampire came into being?”

A curious look was passed between the adults.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Spike asked impatiently.

Giles glared at him. “Just answer the question.”

Angel did so for the group. “No one knows for sure, but legend has it that a demon mixed its blood with that of a dying man to create a hybrid, a demon with a human body.”

The Watcher paused as if he were letting the group absorb this information. Angel thought he was actually trying to figure out what to say next.

Giles said, “The demon that vampires are said to be created from was a remarkable creature if the legends are true. It said that it ate the life force of the living. That’s why vampires have to drink blood, because they are the creature in a diluted form and blood-.”

“Is life,” Angel finished, following along. He had never heard this part of the story before. Judging by the others’ reactions, neither had they.

“So, what happened to Mamma Vamp?” Faith asked.

“Legend has it that it was killed millennia before the written word was invented. That’s why this is nothing more than a legend, a bedtime story Watchers tell their children.”

“This is all right interesting, Watcher, but what does it have to do with what’s going on?” Spike asked, his already thinning patience nearly breaking.

“It has to do with everything,” Giles answered, a touch of heat in his tone. It died quickly, though, and the older looking man continued. “The creature was banished, but not before something was taken from it; something that was meant to help rid the world of the monsters that it had created.

“Men lived in tribes then…packs really, and they knew something had to be done, else they would all find themselves one of the ‘Changed’. So, they summoned together three very power wise men to help put an end to the demon and its children. They set a trap for the…‘Mamma Vamp’. They took a girl from one of the tribes, the one that had discovered ways to fight off the vampires and even kill them.”

“Tempting bait,” Angel said. “Pretty smart.”

“Yes, it proved to be,” Giles agreed. “They took the girl to the mountains where the demon dwelled and chained her to an altar that others used to make virgin sacrifices to the demon in hopes that it would leave their tribe alone.”

“I wonder how come sacrifices always had to be virgins…” Xander mused to himself. “I mean, it’s not like the demon’s going to care. All it’s going to see is a stupid human that can’t escape. Why would it care whether or not she…?” The carpenter found the room staring at him. “Um, sorry.”

“As I was saying,” the Watcher said, giving Xander a dirty look. “They set the trap and waited for the creature to come to feed from her, to steal the very essence of her soul. Details are sketchy at best about the events following, and have a tendency to change from Watcher to Watcher, but all that we do know for sure is that, when it came for her, the men performed some sort of…spell? Incantation? Whatever it was, it essentially reversed the…feeding process. Instead of taking her life into it, she took its essence into her. It changed her. She was still human, but she had the same strength and abilities that the Changed had. She could sense them. She could fight them. She could kill them like no other man or woman alive.”

The group stared at him for a long moment, trying to take in what he had just said.

Finally, Xander spoke up. “So, that’s how the slayer line got started? Because some creepy guys needed bait for Big Mamma?”

Giles shrugged. “That’s how the legend has it.”

“That’s how come they have the demon genes,” Spike mused to himself.

The onetime librarian sighed. “That would make sense.”

Most of the group balked at the revelation. Off to the side, Xander yelp, “Demon genes?”

Ignoring the carpenter, Angel asked, “Why didn’t we ever hear of this before?”

“Because it was a legend - a myth really,” the Watcher defended. “I haven’t even thought about the story since I was young boy.”

“‘Til now,” Spike pointed out. “Why?”

Drawing a deep breath, Giles held it for a moment before letting it out.

“Substantia seco,” he said, as if the two words should explain everything. “About five hundred B.C., a group of Watchers broke from the Council. It was rumored that the leader had lost his mind and threw himself into dark magic because he was too close to his slayer when she died. It was a story told to push the idea that a good Watcher must keep an emotional distance from their charges. Anyway, the group aligned themselves with the idea that the legend was true, and treated it as fact instead of fiction. It made sense to them, that it would be the only way that a girl could be able to stand against demons like the slayer could. But instead of respecting the girl who had the power, they began to respect the creature who unwillingly gave it to her. That respect grew to admiration. Admiration turned to praise. Praise became worship.”

“They became a cult,” Sebastian said.

“Yes. A very dangerous one. They felt that the demon should be put together again. That the blood and the spirit should be one as was originally intended. But in order to do that, they would need a creature that was made from both in the first place. A body that carried the creature’s blood and essence.”

“A damphyr,” Spike dared to breath. “Essence of a slayer-”

“Blood of a vampire,” Angel finished. “They’re planning on using Buffy’s baby as a vessel. Aren’t they?”

“Yes,” he said, walking around the counter. He bent down and, when he came back up, he had a half empty bottle of Scotch in one hand and glass in the other.

“Whoa, wait. Back the story train up here for a second,” Faith said, trying to process everything. “Are you sayin’ that the cult I’ve been trackin’ is not only responsible for takin’ B, but are also a bunch of psycho ex-Watchers who want to bring back the original demon that created both the vampire and the slayer and stick its spirit - soul - whatever into the bun Buffy’s got bakin’ in her oven?”

“In a nutshell,” Oz answered for Giles, who was in the middle of pouring himself a drink.

“Well, why didn’t they, you know, just use the two half vamps they already had?” the slayer asked, glancing at one of the aforementioned children.

Giles shook his head. “They were too old, they’re souls had already been firmly placed and attached to their personalities. This is what the demon feeds on. It could devour their souls, but could no longer take its place because their souls had simply been in them to long. An infant’s soul is new and easily rid of and replaced within the child’s body. It’s the same with an ensouled vampire where the soul isn’t fully connected to who they are. But this creature can only live if it has the blood of a damphyr in its host to survive.”

As the Watcher began to down the contents of the glass, Spike asked, “How do we stop it?”

Giles finished off the glass of liquor, then began to pour himself another before answering. “They’ll have to wait until right after the baby is born to perform the ritual. Our only chance is stopping them before they can call upon the spirit so it can enter the baby’s body and claim it as its own.”

“And if we don’t make it?” Sebastian asked.

The Watcher’s face darkened, having lost interest in the drink. “If they perform the ritual, and the demon goes inside the child-.”

“Don’t,” Spike warned, knowing what Giles was about to say.

The older man lifted his eyes to the younger looking one. “Even if you don’t want to think about it, you know what has to be done if the ritual is performed.” He dropped his gaze back to his drink and sighed. “Besides, I don’t think it’ll be a problem anyway. Travers already said…”

The room sat quiet for a moment, the rest of Giles’ sentence echoing in their minds. Only Oz seemed to be lost, but didn’t say anything.

“Would she really do it?” Xander asked, breaking the silence. He looked over to Bastian before going on. “Would Dill really…you know?”

All eyes rested on the boy, who never once lifted his gaze, giving them their answer. Yeah, she would do it. After all, that’s what she was trained for, no matter how much she might not want to.

“Found ‘em!” Van’s voice echoed throughout the room.

Neither the child nor Anya had heard the conversation that was going on around them, having been too engrossed in the spell. Unlike Willow and Tara, they didn’t have enough power between them to be able to concentrate on two things while performing magic, so the tension was lost to them.

“Where are they?” Angel asked.

“Right outside town,” Anya answered, nodding to the crudely made map that rested between her and the boy.

“That looks like the area where the old charity hospital was,” Xander said, looking up to Oz to make sure he was right. Once the werewolf nodded in agreement, the carpenter added, “It’s been closed for over twenty years.”

“Sound like our place, then,” Spike said before turning and heading towards the back where the weapons were kept.

He was not about to lose his family again, especially not to a bunch of crazy descendants of ex-Watchers. They had already suffered so much because of one; there was no way that another group was going to take away even more than they had already lost. This was going to end that night, one way or the other.

**********

Buffy’s face scrunched up as yet another contraction hit her hard. They were getting worse and closer together. And her water had broken. After having gone through this once before, the slayer knew what it meant; the baby would be there soon.

So much for Maya’s prediction that she had at least another two weeks.

The slayer sucked in short, sharp breaths through her teeth, holding each one for a second before releasing it and taking another. God, if they were already drugging her to make her weak, the least they could have done was to add something to help with the pain.

Ugh, giving birth naturally completely sucks!

“Now, now,” Diana said soothingly, walking around Buffy’s bed. “It’ll be alright. It’ll all be over soon.”

She reached over to touch Buffy’s stomach for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. The slayer did her best to move away, but the restraints held her in place. The dark-haired woman closed her eyes and the familiar smile rose on her lips from the image only she could see in her head.

“He’s going to be such a handsome boy,” Diana mused aloud. “So strong and proud. He’s going to make a fine son.”

“You come near my baby and swear to God I’ll-.”

Another contraction cut the slayer’s threat off and turned it into a painful grunt followed by a whimper.

Diana continued to smile, amused by Buffy’s continuing stubbornness of refusing to accept the inevitable. The blonde didn’t understand that the child inside of her did not belong to her, it belonged to Mrs. Shelton. She had worked for it all her life.

She had married Kenneth so the child would have the father it needed. A leader, a strong man who would still follow her orders because of foolish love and devotion.

She had taken a great risk to help Mr. Travers retrieve his precious little angel so he would give her what she wanted.

Diana had been the one to see that the only mother that could give her son life was brought back through the blood of all those men and women in South America. The Powers knew what she had in store, and would have never granted the gift of returning Ms. Summers. That was why she had trapped her soul in the Between.

She had been the one to retrieve her when the time was right and her child could be born ten years after the real millennia had occurred. The calendars are off by a few years, and say it was only May of 2008. She knew better. Ms. Summers was the last slayer called in the old millennia, that was why she was chosen to be the mother of the angel and fulfill the prophesy. Only, she fell in love, and has ended up fulfilling another one that called for the very destruction of all that she holds dear.

Diana had worked very hard to have her son, this special child. No one else on earth deserved him more than she, and no one was about to take him from her. She’d kill them before they did.

“It won’t be long now,” she said as Buffy continued to groan and twist in pain. “I’ll finally have my beautiful son.” Leaning in close, she whispered into the blonde’s ear in a familiar Jamaican voice, “Inn’t dat right?”

**********