Title: Keep Me Cold
Author: Crazy_Girl_Mary
Email: crazy_girl_mary@yahoo.com
Feedback: It's a beautiful thing! So email me already damnit!
Disclaimer: They’re all Joss’ and probably some other people but hey I’m a rebel so I play if I want damn it!
Summary: Sequel to Hot to Cold. Faith has turned against the Scoobies and after giving into Angelus he made her a vampire. They obtained the list of Potential Slayers and slaughter will begin but sooner or later they'll end up in Sunnydale. This fic coincides with The First problem on Buffy so I guess it's an Alternate Universe. Uncomplete! I'll be posting new sections as I write them.
Pairings: Faith/Angelus so far.
Category: angst and suspense I suppose.
Spoilers: Spoilers for the episodes where The First is in Sunnydale. No Angel spoilers. Sorry people I don't know the episodes so just read it.
Rating: NC-17 for graphic torture and sexuality.
Author’s Comments: Hey guys! Check me out! I'm so on top of that request for the sequel! This fic is dedicated to Jezzie who supported me, and told me the things I needed to hear and pushed me to make a sequel. I’m having a ball writing it and I don’t know that I would’ve without her requests. Also thank you for all the feedback and requests. When people email me and tell me how I really can grasp the character of Angelus or describe the way his eyes roam over a tortured body makes me feel like I might just be doing this right and I may just have a grip on this whole writing thing. Also thanks in advance to anyone who may feel the urge to email me because I suck. Please do! I love it. I wanna know why I suck or what sucks.

Luanda, Angola


Her resilience was one of the main reasons he continued to want her. He could keep breaking her and proving to her that she was nothing compared to him or without him yet she continued to be strong and appear unbroken. She wandered on ahead of him up the dark street, power pouring off of her in waves. Since Scotland they had visited the home of another potential in Norway, who had proved uneventful and just plain boring. The girl had been older, her face had been hideously burned in a house fire when she was young and her eyes pretty much begged for death.

Of course Angelus had wanted to show her a fate worse than death but after playing with her for a few days he still couldn’t think of anything worse than what she was. Faith was antsy to leave so he quickly disposed of her. Her blood hadn’t even tasted as sweet as the other potentials and they had quickly left for the next destination, one a little warmer.

Faith had never been to another country and despite her bragging she hadn’t been to too many places inside the United States either. She had been infatuated with Puerto Rico’s beauty but Africa was like heaven to her and Angelus had pretty much guessed it would be. The beaches were white under the night sky and the air smelled unpolluted and fresh with crops and ocean salt. They had booked a room nearby their potential’s residence and spent a few days making love and feasting on the beach sand under the stars. He knew that was all he would get from her, she was eager to continue on and get to Sunnydale and he couldn’t deny that he was as well.

That had brought them into the current hunt. She was a beautiful native girl, skin darkened to a black color that blended into the night sky. Her hair was short and her legs were long, the kind that could wrap around your body twice and keep going into forever. She wore a long white muslin dress that flowed back to them on the breeze and made her all the more easy to follow. She carried a basket of fruit and vegetables and from what they had seen of her routine over the past two days they could pretty much guess she was headed to the church to have them blessed and then home to feed her large family.

She was the gem; the shining star of her tribe and Angelus had been there before. He got more excited about the kill the further they followed her. When she slipped quickly inside the church Faith didn’t hesitate to enter behind her and Angelus grasped her hand as he slid into the door as well.

The church was empty aside from an old English priest and an even older native parishioner. The girl moved slowly up to the front pew near the priest and set her basket down. She knew. Angelus could tell because of the way her back stood erect. The old priest turned his attention their way and then towards the girl. He frowned at them and walked slowly over to the girl. He whispered something in her ear that Angelus couldn’t quite hear enough of to make out. Faith started towards them but he grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back. She looked at him questioningly but he just smiled and put up a finger signaling her to wait.

He knew if they rushed their prey they would get a surprisingly strong opposition and someone would die. He didn’t want any of them to die because he knew they all had their purpose. He looked over to the two small canisters of holy water on either side of the door they just entered and like a strong gust of wind knocked them to the floor where they splattered slightly but now were a useless weapon.

The priest spun into action as quickly as could be expected from a man with sixty plus years under his belt. He grabbed a large crucifix that was conveniently located atop a six foot stand pointed it out towards the couple of vampires as they approached.

“Don’t kill them,” Angelus said lightly to Faith. “I want them alive.”

Faith approached the priest with a smile as Angelus went over to the girl. She was about sixteen years old. “Beautiful,” he said running a few fingertips along her cheek. She didn’t look away from the statue of Jesus before her and she didn’t flinch as he touched her. “What’s your name?” he asked her slowly.

She looked up but her face remained stoic. She didn’t answer. He frowned and tightened his grasp around her face. Holding her head tightly with both hands he lifted her off of the bench and spun around to hold her up before the crucifix. She didn’t even entertain him with a squeal.

“We’ve been expecting you,” the old priest said. Angelus looked over to Faith, who had slammed him against the wall and was looking deep into his eyes perhaps for some hidden knowledge of Christ.

“Look at that babe, our reputation precedes us,” he said with a laugh.

“As it should,” she said lightly licking the old priests neck and then frowning at the taste of him. He might as well be dead already and he smelled like he bathed in holy water.

Angelus looked over his shoulder at the retreating parishioner. “Wouldn’t it be wise to tie her up, I mean she has to see what’s going on to be a witness…”

Faith smiled at the priest, put him carefully down. She straightened his shirt and hair and he seemed numb to her actions. Then she slammed her booted foot down on his and he fell to his knees with an anguished cry. He wouldn’t be going anywhere. She turned and grabbed the old woman by the back of her shirt just before she made her way out onto the busy street. Having done that, she locked the heavy church doors with her free hand and then began to drag the woman back to Angelus, the potential, and the priest.

She set the woman down roughly in the front row of the pews and looked around for something she might tie the woman with. Finding nothing nearby she began to rip shreds of the woman’s own clothing off. She screamed loudly with horror and embarrassment so Faith ripped off another shred and used it to gag her.

“Now,” she said pivoting quickly around to the priest who was still curled up on the floor. She walked slowly over to him and looked down thoughtfully. “Shall we put him in a place of prominence?” she asked Angelus over her shoulder. Then she turned slowly and looked at him. He seemed to be having a staring contest with the young girl. His eyes were glazed over and he was just holding the girl up in the air.

“Angelus?” she asked slowly.

He blinked and looked over at Faith, then at the priest who was looking on with an ounce of hope in his eyes. “Seems our little potential is a bit of a witch as well.”

Faith frowned. All she knew about witches was that Willow kicked ass.

Angelus then released one hand around her throat and backhanded her roughly across the face. “Don’t try that again!” he screamed. She looked crestfallen and a trickle of blood ran from the side of her mouth. He returned his hand to its previous place and leaned in to lick the blood away. “Now,” he said, following with an exaggerated sigh, “where were we?”

“We were at the ‘maim and torture’ stage,” Faith said turning back and gripping the priest up again.

“Right,” said Angelus. He looked back towards the girl wondering what was a just punishment for a crafty little witch such as this. “How would you like it kitten?” he asked the shivering young girl after he tackled her down the floor.

She didn’t answer. He looked down into her frightened face but he could still see a touch of defiance. “Want me to eat ya?” he asked. “Bleed you out all over the floor and finger paint? How about I slowly cut you to slices and see how many I can get before you die?”

She didn’t answer and his patience drew thin. He pulled his fist back and hit her hard in the face, “Good idea-” Her scream broke the prolonged silence. He knew he had broken something. “I haven’t beaten someone to death in a while.” “She doesn’t speak English,” the priest said slowly.

Angelus was halted for a moment and then smiled before replying, “Well then father, I guess you’ll have to translate.”

Faith looked over with a frown. “Does that mean I can’t kill him until you’re done?”

“Sorry babe,” he said without the least hint of “sorry” in his voice.

She lifted her hand to the priest’s neck with the mocking words “sorry babe” on her own lips but they never got out. Angelus had his hand firmly around her own neck, “I wouldn’t want to have to torture you too,” he rasped in her ear and then he gently sucked her ear lobe into his mouth but she didn’t release her hand.

“Looks like your princess is getting away,” she said with a smile.

He turned his head in time to see her scurry out the door. “Jealousy will get you no where,” he commented slamming Faith and the priest forward before he took off after the potential.

“Shouldn’t be hard to find her,” Faith said inhaling deeply, “her blood smells so sweet and she’s leaving enough of it behind.”

She hoisted the priest up and held him high above her, hanging limply in her hands with the crucifix silhouetted in the backdrop made him look simply holy and gave her a brilliant idea.

Angelus listened to the light patter of tiny feet and the pounding of a powerful heart as he followed the girl down a dirt road leading nowhere except her imminent death at his own cold hands. He slowed to a haunting walk knowing that she was trapped in the dead end of the alley up ahead. He whistled as he went. “Come out come out wherever you are!” he called up ahead. He could hear the girl scraping frantically against the brick wall at the end of the alley, the smell of blood fresh from her tore fingers.

When he was a few feet behind her and she knew that escape was impossible she turned to face her doom, staring intently into the dark eyes of her killer. He smiled and stepped impossibly close to her running an attentive finger down her tear stained cheeks, “How brave.”

She didn’t flinch as he leaned down to kiss her lips but when he pressed his tongue softly forward like a schoolboy she kept her teeth clenched tightly closed and wouldn’t allow him entrance to her supple young mouth. She was young by his standards, but old enough in modern times to know the nature of his actions. He ran the tips of his fingers lightly down her bare arm to her clenched little fist and with a cunning smile tapped on the ball and ran his fingertips in circles over the back of her hand until she opened her fist. Then he let his fingers slide between hers and he blew a kiss to her then turned his back and began to drag her forcefully up the alley. She barely put up a fight and she didn’t let out a sound to warn any passersby. ***

Faith stared up at the priest. “Something’s still missing,” she drawled out. Her eyes were intently scraping over the priest’s riddled body with a devious eye for the missing detail.

“Perhaps it’s his sanity…” Angelus suggested with a smile as he drew a bloody finger to his lips, not bothering to look up at his companion. The girl was lying on the floor underneath him and he had spilled blood from every part of her lifeless body and was now lying on top of her trying to cover himself completely in the sweet juice. The girl’s chest barely pressed against him as she squeezed out narrow and frightened breaths.

Faith smiled happily but her eyes soon narrowed as she turned back to the priest. “Well there were the holes in the wrists and feet… lashes on the back… nice little crown of thorns… how very convenient for them to just have one right on the crucifix for us to borrow huh?”

The priest was well past responding so she turned her attention to her lover. “What was next stud?”

Angelus turned his attention away from the young potential slayer beneath him to Faith. “That’s lovely,” he said admiring her art, “poetic even, but it lacks something…”

Faith rolled her eyes, “What might that be?” she asked. Not like I’ve been asking you that for five minutes or anything, she thought dryly.

He looked around, “Christ was finally killed with a spear through the side… a long metal spear, much like the stand to that, over there,” he finished pointing to a large metal pole on a stand with a hefty gold crucifix at the top. She smiled and skipped off to grab the weapon. She made sure to wink at their witness’ horrified expression as she went past.

Faith was careful to lift the cross by the unoffending end and slam it into the pew, dangerously close to the sobbing woman enough for it to collapse off the end leaving a slightly hollow metal pole. She grinned, “You have such an eye for that shit,” she said to Angelus, referring to his knack for discovering weapons virtually anywhere.

Faith walked slowly over to the priest who was coming out of his temporary delirium at the sight of the final stage in the stigmata presented. “You pious fool,” she whispered. She ran her finger down a line of blood gliding down the side of the priests glistening face then brought it to her mouth and sucked the bitter flavor gently into her mouth. “Where is your God now?” she asked as she started to slowly push the dull edge of the pole into the old man’s side.

The pain was intense, like nothing she had ever felt before… and there was also great guilt, which wasn’t a new feeling at all. The nails suddenly holding her up were like fire inside her body. The thorns suddenly on her head were causing blood to flow into her eyes and blind her. The lashes suddenly on her bareback felt infected and very painful. The sun beat down on her head and back and set them aflame. The wind whirled the desert sand that beat painfully into her skin trying to reduce her to dust.

This all paled in comparison to her side. She had lost feeling in her side some time ago and if she tried to concentrate on feeling the pain was overwhelming. She knew she had been hanging there for days. She heard voices. They sounded familiar but the language they spoke was foreign. She tried to open her eyes but sand and blood caked them shut.

She had to scream, but when she opened her mouth all that came out was blood…

Buffy screamed as she shot up in bed with a severe jolt. She could hear people outside of her door almost instantly. The house was filled with people so she knew someone was bound to hear her. Especially at… she looked at the clock on her bedside table, three o’clock in the afternoon!

“Buffy?” Kennedy asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Buffy managed in a groggy voice, “I’m fine.”

She rubbed her eyes, which still felt caked with sand and dried blood. She had been having these dreams for weeks. She hadn’t told anyone, not even Giles. She knew that the dreams meant. Potential Slayers were being killed and she was dying with them in a way. She took it as her punishment for not being able to save them, and felt a certain connection to them. At first the dreams had been pretty much the same. She would be walking alone somewhere and be jumped and stabbed to death by a group of hooded killers. But lately, there had been a few here and there that were very different, very graphic, and very painful.

She closed her eyes at the memories and got quickly out of bed. She knew all the hot water would be long gone now and for once she was thankful. Perhaps a cold shower would help her get rid of these latest demons.