Background: For years, Slayers have been killed off easily for some unknown reason, usually within months of their calling, leaving the world to be protected by new and untrained Slayers that are easy pickings for seasoned vamps. Because of this, the increase in the vampire and demon population escalated to the point to where vamps have realised that if they continue in the same way that they are currently living, all the humans will die out and thus bring an end to the vampires’ food source and consequentially cause the extinction of their own line.

Realising this, vampires and humans have had to learn to live together and have come to a truce of sorts where humans will donate blood regularly so that the vampires are fed and vampires have restrictions on who the are able to feed from and/or turn, etc. To ensure that things are kept running smoothly, the establishment of a regulatory body in each state (and on each hellmouth due to heavy demon population) is set up to enforce laws that protect both humans and vampires. (E.g. Sunnydale Human and Demon Relations Office). These offices have different divisions that deal with enforcing rules and restrictions, welfare and social work, identification and turning licenses, etc.


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Chapter 1


Rupert Giles stared at the young girl through the office window. She looked to be just a child, with her golden hair haphazardly thrown up into a loose ponytail, dressed in faded three quarter denim cut offs and light pink tank top. Yet her file told him she had just turned nineteen. She seemed to be staring at nothing as she sat facing sideways in a chair with her knees drawn up tightly to her chest. His caseload at the Sunnydale Human and Demon Relations Office was fast becoming increasingly full of the young ones. He had thought that schools were running safety programs outlining how to avoid this sort of thing nowadays. Great load of good that was obviously doing. Every day the pile of files on his desk for the under 25’s grew; almost to the point that they were the only new cases he was assigned.

Giles sighed heavily and moved away from the observation window and walked into the room.

“Buffy Summers?” Buffy lifted her watery green eyes to him and nodded. Giles gave the girl a kind smile as he moved to take a seat behind his desk. “I’m Rupert Giles, everyone calls me Giles though.” She nodded her understanding again but didn’t answer him verbally.

Giles drew his eyes together in a slight frown and looked down at the file that lay open on his desk: Buffy Anne Summers, recently moved to Sunnydale, California. ‘Ah,’ Giles thought to himself with a slight nod of understanding ‘that explained it’. He looked up the girl who still sat unmoved in her seat.

“Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself, Buffy.” She turned her vacant eyes on him once more and he couldn’t help the pang of regret he felt for her.

“I’m 19 years old, and I moved to Sunnydale three weeks ago with my mother and my sister. My dad left mom about a year ago so the move to Sunnydale was meant to be a fresh start. I was due to begin classes here at the UC Sunnydale campus next week.” Buffy’s voice was rough as though she had spent hours screaming at the top of her lungs. “They don’t know what’s happened yet. I came here as soon as I woke.” Giles nodded and made a rough note of that fact on his pad.

“Would you be able to tell me about the events which led to your turning? I need to make a note of who your sire is—I’m assuming he didn’t have a turning licence?” Buffy shrugged as she simultaneously shook her head.

“No, I don’t think so.” Giles nodded once more and scribbled down some more notes.

“So, I’ll need you to start from the beginning”


*****


“Buffy? Are you going out?” Buffy made her way to the bottom of the stairs and turned in the direction of her mother’s voice as she exited the kitchen of their new home.

“Yeah, I met up with an old friend while I was at the University yesterday. You remember Ford? He’s here, in Sunnydale.” Her mother smiled, wiping her hands on the tea towel she was holding.

“Of course I remember Ford. Just don’t be back too late. We’re still new in town; don’t go anywhere your not sure about.” Buffy gave her mother a soft smile before giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

“I’ll be careful. I promise.” Joyce smiled and shooed her away to the front door.

“Have a good time, sweetheart”

“Is Buffy going out? Oh my god! That is SO unfair!” The two older Summers women shared a look before turning to the teenager. “Why is Buffy allowed to go out, when I asked you yesterday if I could meet up with some of my friends from school?”

“Dawn we have already been over this. You’re 17 now, legal turning age. We don’t know what this town is like yet and I don’t want you going out and getting yourself vamped by some illegal turner.” Dawn rolled her eyes and stomped her foot in a manner so much like the child she claimed she wasn’t.

“Oh, and like Buffy being two years older is really going to make a difference.” Joyce gave her youngest daughter a stern look and turned back towards Buffy.

“Have a good time. I’ll talk to you in the morning.” Buffy smiled and pecked her mother on the cheek again before waving to Dawn and slipping out the door. She chuckled to herself as she heard her sister’s high pitch shriek from inside the house.


*


Buffy paid her entry fee at the door and walked into the club in which she had made arrangements to meet Ford. The place was interesting, that was a given. It was an odd mixture of a night club and a bohemian type of café. Its lighting was dim and it had a lounge just inside the door that had large comfortable looking chairs everywhere that had large overstuffed cushions padding them.

Further into the club she could see a space that had been cleared for a dance floor which several couples were currently using, and a well lit up bar along the back wall.

She liked it.

Weaving her way through the club, she headed toward the bar at the back of the room. She slid easily onto one of the barstools and ordered a Coke as she waited for Ford to arrive.

Her eyes roved over the room casually as her drink was placed on the bar. Smiling at the barman, she accepted her drink as her eyes wandered over the other people sitting at the bar. Her gaze seemed drawn to a figure sitting at the opposite end.

He was half hidden in the shadows that fell across the room and he seemed to have an air of mystery to him. She quickly averted her eyes as he lifted his gaze to look at her. She felt a blush stain her cheeks heavily and tried to ignore his presence by busying herself with taking another sip of her Coke and waiting for Ford to arrive. Yet, her gaze seemed to gravitate towards the stranger again, and she felt her eyes lifting to meet his.

He stared back through empty eyes as he watched her and she felt a chill run down her spine.

“Miss?” Buffy startled in her seat quickly as she turned to the voice that had addressed her. “Are you Buffy Summers?”

“Yes” She said nodding a little, still slightly flustered.

“You have a phone call.” Frowning slightly, she accepted the phone that was handed to her via the bartender and brought it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Buffy? It’s Ford.”

“Hey! I was wondering where you were.”

“Yeah, listen, about that. I can’t meet you tonight, something’s come up and I’ve got to go to my dad’s house.” Buffy frowned slightly and turned away from the bar, covering one ear in an attempt to hear Ford more clearly.

“Oh, is he okay?”

“Yeah, Dad’s fine. I was wondering if we might be able to take a raincheck and catch up some other night?”

“Of course, that’s fine. Good luck with whatever you have to do.”

“Great. I guess I’ll see you on campus.”

“Okay, thanks for calling.” Disconnecting the call, she handed the phone back over to the barman.

“Your date stand you up?” Buffy smiled at his slightly gruff voice and assumption.

“No, I was planning to meet up with an old friend tonight. He had to cancel though.” She dug through her bag and pulled out her wallet, handing a few dollars to the bartender. “Thanks for the drink.” He smiled at her as she turned on her stool and slipped off.

Her eyes gravitated once more to the corner of the bar as she moved to make her way back through the club and she noted that the man had disappeared. Mentally shrugging to herself, she navigated her way back through the club, dodging dancing couples and rowdy groups. She took a deep breath of the night air as she exited the club and headed back in the direction of her home.

Buffy was halfway out of the alley that led away from the club when she realised that she wasn’t alone. Goosebumps broke out over her skin as she heard the sound of feet scuffling behind her. Turning, she scanned the alley behind her: nothing. Her mother’s words earlier that night about illegal turners echoed through her mind and she felt an icy drop of fear snake its way down her spine.

Her heart rate picked up quickly and she spun on her heel to run out of the alley when she collided heavily up against a rock solid chest. Panic instantly overtook her and she struggled violently to get away.

“Whoa! Slow down, what’s got you in such a hurry?” Pulling back slightly, she looked up at the man before her. He was the man she had seen in the bar. She narrowed her eyes slightly as she felt his cool grip on her arms. Vampire. She pulled back out of his arms as if she’d been burned.

“Nothing. I just realised I’m late.” She looked over her shoulder again quickly before giving the vampire a tight smile as she stepped around him to walk away.

“Hey, hey, hey, wait up! Are you walking home alone?” Buffy stopped in her tracks but didn’t turn to face him even though she knew he could hear the rapid beating of her heart.

“Yeah, why?” she asked. The deep chuckle she got as a response didn’t help at calming her nerves.

“You haven’t been in Sunnydale long, have you?” He asked with an amused tone that instantly put her on the defensive.

“Three weeks.” He smirked at her in amusement before walking towards her so they were level with each other once more.

“I’ll walk you home.” Buffy shook her head and took a few steps back.

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine. Really.” The vampire moved lightning fast as Buffy turned to leave, and she was stopped dead in her tracks as a cold hand closed around her wrist tightly. The grip was like steel and clearly not friendly.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, gorgeous.” Buffy knew that if she lifted her gaze, she would find him in his demon guise. She tugged on her arm trying to break his grip.

“Let me go.” Her tone was calm, but she knew her heart rate belied her. He chuckled again, the sound of his voice causing her to break out in a cold sweat.

“I don’t think so,” he said as he seized her other wrist and pulled her against him roughly. Buffy struggled in vain against him as he pulled her so her body was plastered against his. That’s when she could smell it. The scent of alcohol on his breath was almost overpowering.

Tears were running unheeded down her face as her futile attempts at breaking free from his grasp failed. She thought of calling out to someone, but the alley was deserted and no one inside the club would hear her over the music.

“Please, please let me go.” She looked up into the face of the monster before her and saw no sympathy, only the empty eyes that had watched her in the club. He gave her one last smirk as he turned her around and pushed her harshly up against the alley wall.

She cried out in pain as he tore harshly into the side of her throat. She whimpered as he shook his head, tearing her skin and marking her even as he sucked the life giving fluid from her.

Buffy’s arms felt heavy as she tried to lift them and push him away, and she knew that these would be her last moments alive. Opening her eyes, she looked around the alley in which she knew she would die. She closed her eyes against the image. She wouldn’t die contemplating her surroundings. Instead she conjured an image of her family in her mind’s eye, like they were before, when her parents were together and they were happy. She had time to picture each one of their faces individually before darkness consumed her and she welcomed the release.

Chapter 2



Buffy stared up at the bland ceiling of the hotel room the agency had given her for the night. Across the room, the blinds had been drawn tightly across the windows to block out the sun’s lethal rays, the edges stuck down with thick tape till only a small slither had managed work its way through to shine in a small patch against the wall. She didn’t need to squint to see the dust particles floating through the air, even from the distance she was laying. It made her curious about what else had changed.

She held up her hand and looked at it. Her skin still clutched to the remains of her summer tan but she knew it wouldn’t take long for it to dissipate completely. Listening to her body, it seemed too quiet—too lifeless—like she should be able to hear the sound of her heart beating although she never had been able to previously.

Buffy consciously stopped her habitual breathing and waited. She could lie so still. So still and quiet like the corpse that her body should be. She quickly rose from the bed and started pacing around the room. She was dead, yes, but she refused to act that way.

She wondered whether that was something all vampires felt, or if it was just her. Perhaps something that had been passed on from her sire.

After sitting silently while she had been poked and prodded for nearly the entire morning—or night rather—as samples of her blood and photos of her in and out of her vampire guise for identification and teeth moulds of both her human and vampiric teeth had been taken, she then ended up back in Mr. Giles’ tiny office so she could look through an album that contained mug shots of repeat vampire offenders in an attempt to find her sire.

She had gone through almost the whole book before she finally found his face. She had stared at it unseeingly for what seemed like hours, days perhaps. His name was Penn, childe of Angelus, grandchilde of Darla and great grandchilde of the Master, who was currently the oldest living vampire of the Aurelius line and head of the clan.

It had been explained to her that she was his sixth unwilling victim to be illegally turned, and that because of that he would have to be dusted. She was shocked to find that somewhere within her—deep within her, but still there—her demon had rebelled at the thought.

“He’s nothing but a monster,” she said out loud as she flopped back down onto the bed. She had known vampires in the past, not all were bad like Penn had been. “I don’t care, I’m not like him. I will not be a monster.”

She startled violently as a harsh knock at her front door pulled her attention away from her inner musings.

She slowly sat up and drew still, instinctively halting her unneeded breathing as she listened for a heartbeat.

“Miss Summers?” The friendly voice of Giles broke the instinctive tension that had come over her body. She didn’t bother answering before walking over and unbolting the door to let him in.

He gave her a smile as he crossed over the threshold before handing her a letter. She looked down at it curiously, unable to withhold the sceptical tilt of her head. It was written on thick parchment that looked old and yellowed. The paper was folded into thirds and sealed with a small blob of red wax that had some sort of crest pressed into it.

“What’s this?” she asked as she looked down at the letter in her hands and back up at Giles.

“It’s a letter from your clan, asking that you be brought before their council. It is tradition as a newly sired member of their lineage. When Penn sired you as a childe, he made you eligible to be brought into their familial fold and you therefore need to be taken before the council to be judged as worthy. If you had been made a minion, they would have likely dusted you outright.” Buffy looked at him carefully as he spoke, the tone of his voice making it sound like she had been given a privilege in being made a childe.

“Are you saying they still might?” Buffy queried, without a hint of inflection in her voice that might indicate one way or another on how she felt.

“Unfortunately, there is the possibility that you will be dusted, as the line only accepts vampires of the top most quality into the fold. You see, when one creates a childe, Miss Summers, it is usually done with the intentions of strengthening the power of the family by the siring of a childe with the highest possible calibre so that they may one day rise to the status of a Master Vampire and continue the ancient line. Therefore, unlike a minion whose knowledge and control over their demon after turning is innate, albeit limited, a childe must be taught so that they may understand the ways of the family and be moulded into the type of vampire for which their clan is renowned.”

And Penn was the type of vampire their clan was renowned for? A drunk who is uncaring of rules that have been put in place to ensure the survival of his species? Although bitter, Buffy knew that her thoughts did not really reflect the truth. The Aurelius clan had long been known as one of the most prominent vampire clans in existence.

“You said that my sire will be dusted?” she said instead. Giles nodded. “Then who’s expected teach me what I need to know? It sounds like I’ll just be going there to be dusted as well.”

“No, part of the reason behind this meeting is to also appoint you a new sire. You will be attending with a young girl named Melanie. She was turned just last week and is set to go before the council with you.”

“When is it?” Giles gestured towards the folded parchment in her hands. Looking down, she opened it quickly and flipped it over. “Tonight! Are you kidding me?”

“It must be done before Penn is dusted and there is a ritual involved so that his rights as a sire can be passed on, one that requires his presence.”

“You said I am the sixth to be sired illegally. What happens to the other five?”

Giles grew silent as he looked at the young vampiress before him. “Four have already gone before the council and consequentially been dusted. Tonight both you and Melanie will go before the council and your fates decided. Both of you may very well be passed on into the care of another vampire.”

Buffy didn’t need to be a genius to hear what wasn’t said in that comment. Both of you may very well be passed on… however, it is more than likely one, or both of you, will not. Regardless, it seemed she had no choice but to attend.

“Has someone been sent out to see my family yet?” Buffy asked as she let her gaze travel once more to the small patch of light on the wall.

“Someone from the agency was sent over this morning. They are likely still with them now.”

Buffy nodded, her eyes still averted from his. There was a moment of silence as neither of them spoke. She could hear Giles shuffling uncomfortably as he grasped for something else to say.

“You should cover up that patch of light,” he said finally, his tone not unkind but rather uncomfortable. “It could be dangerous should the sun shift position later in the day.”

Buffy turned slowly to face Giles. “When the day comes that you are denied the pleasure of the sun, remind me to tell you to cover up what little of it you have left.”

Giles gave her an uneasy smile and walked to the door. “A car will be here to pick you as soon as night falls, to take you to the Aurelius mansion. You should get some sleep Miss Summers,” he said before leaving her room.

Buffy turned to the door after she heard it shut and stared at it for a few moments. For now she was trapped until the sun went down, till she was due at a trial for something over which she had had no control. She had not asked to be vamped—and had she been given the choice, she would never have accepted it.

Her eyes strayed back to the patch of sunlight and the dust particles that danced in its warmth. This had not been what she wanted, yet it was something she would have to learn to live with.


*****


Buffy looked across at the girl sitting opposite her. She looked slightly older than Buffy—maybe 22—and taller, but the basics of her appearance were the same: bright green eyes like her own and long flowing blonde hair. She too still held the remnants of a summer tan yet to fade.

They sat in silence as the limousine that had been sent to collect them drew them closer and closer to the fate that awaited them upon arrival at the mansion that was home to the clan.

It was clear also that unlike herself, the other girl, Melanie, had—on some level—come to terms with her turning. Buffy watched out of the corner of her eye as the other girl drank easily from the blood that had been supplied in the limousine and thought back to how she had gagged when she had attempted to drink what the Agency had supplied her with. How would that ever make her worthy over the vampire before her?

The car rolled to a stop and she peered out the tinted windows up at the mansion before them. She felt something which she was sure was the equivalent of a racing pulse rise within her and a pit of butterflies burst loose in her stomach. It was huge—beautiful too, in its own gothic way.

The wrought iron gates squeaked open and the car continued up and around the circular driveway, drawing them closer to the building that had her stomach in knots. She would never be able to belong in a place like this.

Buffy tore her gaze away from the mansion as the door to the limousine was opened from the outside and Melanie began to crawl out. Buffy shimmed her way along the seat quickly also and stepped out onto the gravel path.

“Miss Summers? This way please.” She followed the vampire who had opened the door up the stone step of the house.

She looked across at Melanie and the strained look the stony girl had on her face. Buffy found comfort in the fact that that Melanie was nervous as well, though her outward appearance remained calm.

They were led through the hallways of the house at a brisk pace before finally coming to a stop outside a large set of double doors and told to wait on a seat outside the room until they were called in.

“You must remain in your demon visage while in front of the Master’s council. It is a sign of disrespect to show them your human countenance,” the nameless vampire said before leaving them there. She heard the bones of the other girl’s face creak as she shifted into “game face” quickly, and Buffy followed suit.

“Are you nervous?” Melanie asked.

It was the first time she had said anything or appeared less than calm since getting in the limousine. Buffy turned to her and offered her a small smile.

“Deathly nervous, I’m barely a day old vampire-wise.” Buffy watched as Melanie seemed to find some comfort in those words and felt her own nerves increase.

“I’ve been a vampire for a little over six days. But I’ve only been living off what the Human Demon relations people have supplied me, nothing like what I drank in the car on the way here.” Buffy gave her a shaky smile.

I just don’t want to go forever without saying goodbye to mom and Dawn she thought to herself.

Any further conversation was cut short as the doors before them were opened and a beautiful woman with long flowing brown hair floated out. She gave them a cheeky smile as she drifted across to them.

“My great granddaddy will see you now, my darlings.”

Both Buffy and Melanie rose from their seats and stepped forward. The woman fell into step behind them as they walked towards the doors and into the larger room.

Chapter 3



The room they stepped into was huge. Buffy had never seen anything like it, outside of the things she had either read in books or seen in movies. High, large windows reaching practically to the ceiling with thick black velvet drapes to cover them, and polished marble floors glittered in the light cast by the numerous candles scattered throughout the room. Everything was done in tones of black, silver or gold, with a hint of red to be seen here and there throughout the room. The effect was striking, yet its size and splendour went unnoticed save the initial the first glace upon her entrance.

Buffy’s senses were in overdrive the minute she stepped through the doors. Vampires—she could feel them all around her.

They were lining the walls of the room, hundreds of beings with milky white skin, clad in clothes of leather and lace—all in black. Some were stretched decadently across chairs, some across each other, all however seemed to be watching the new arrivals make their way into the room.

The butterflies in her stomach had increased to an almost nauseating level and Buffy found herself glad that she had been unable to get anything down earlier. She let her gaze slide across to Melanie wondering how she was feeling having consumed the large glass of blood in the car. The thought of it all coming up now had Buffy wanting to gag and run from the room.

This was a bad idea, Buffy, a stupid, bad idea. Should have run when you had the chance. The room was buzzing with muted sound as Buffy and Melanie finally came to a halt near the end of the room. Buffy looked up towards the clustered group of vampires before her, they were separated from the rest of the clan by a small row of steps that led to their elevated level. The Order of Aurelius—the core of the clan—a family she would either be accepted into by the end of the night or meet her final death at the hands of. She didn’t know which fate was worse.

Her eyes landed on the form of her sire and Buffy was unable to stop the small snarl that left her throat. Even now he looked barely sober and only half conscious. How could a family so obviously concerned with the blood they allowed to enter the fold welcome such a lowlife of no consequence into their ranks?

A deep chuckle resounded throughout the room at Buffy’s actions and her eyes shot to the man seated at the fore of their group. His eyes were boring into hers and she could do nothing to prevent the obedient lowering of her head as her demon submitted to his dominance.

Buffy knew this vampire could only be the Master. Out of all of them, he looked to be the oldest and most self-important. The vibes emanating from him demanded respect from her demon and she was powerless to do anything but. He nodded his head in a sign of acknowledgment and out of the corner of her eye, Buffy saw Melanie quickly lower her head as well.

The woman who had drifted in behind them floated up to the table and took her place between a vampiress with long curly red hair and Penn. Her sire didn’t look up from the point on the floor at which he was staring. He looked neither remorseful nor even aware of her presence in the room, but Buffy knew he knew they were there—they after all, that was the point of the meeting.

“Childer…” The buzzing in the room fell silent at the sound of the Master’s voice as all attention snapped to him, “though you have not been in the world long as a vampire, your blood—your demon—comes from a great ancestral line. Only those of superior making are allowed admittance into the familial fold which sits before you now and as you blood determines, you are both now eligible to be part of this council.”

Buffy let her eyes stray along the faces of each of the ten members of the Order who being spoken of. Not one of the assembled looked as though they wanted to be there. Her eyes scanned along the row before coming to rest on a pair of piercing blue orbs that were staring at her intently. The owner of which smirked at Buffy as he caught her gaze and she began to fidget under his intent stare. Her nerves were already at near breaking point.

“You both, no doubt, make stunning creatures; however, I think it appropriate that you are first tested.” The Master nodded to someone who had previously stood unnoticed in the corner of the room, half hidden by shadows.

Buffy was unprepared as two vampires walked towards them and unceremoniously shoved the sign of the crucifix into her face.

Buffy flinched violently as her demon roared in outrage and took over for the first time since her turning. She felt the sudden surge of power within her as she battered the offending cross out of her face without thinking. So caught up in the moment, she forgot to be nervous as she lashed out and sent a punch flying across the face of one of the vampires before grabbing the cross out of his gloved hand and throwing it across the room.

The force behind the throw sent it flying straight into the group of vampires watching from the sidelines. One vampiress screamed loudly as it singed her flesh before clattering to the floor.

Buffy’s eyes were flashing dangerously as she stared down the vampire before her now without a crucifix but still decidedly not helpless. She growled loudly as he reached for the stake he had concealed and reacting instinctively, she stopped the arc of his arm as he tried to plunge the stake toward her heart, her knee crashing up into his groin before she pushed him to the floor and kicked him once across the face knocking him out cold.

She felt a pulse go through her as whatever adrenaline she had been harbouring faded, and Buffy turned and ran out of the room ignoring Melanie’s shrieks as she tried to defend herself uselessly against demon holding the cross to her face. She had to get out of there and away from whatever had made her lose control like that. She had felt it, skulking beneath the surface—she had almost become the monster that had turned her. It was a part of her now, but something that she wouldn’t allow to define who she was.

Buffy pushed her way out of the grand room and into the hall, running for the front of the mansion. She burst through the front doors like the hounds of hell were on her tail and flew down the front steps. This time, the beauty of the house went unnoticed.

She looked around frantically for something to drive, suddenly realising that she had no idea where she was. The sigh of relief she breathed as her eyes fell on the man that had driven them to the mansion was audible and he turned and looked at her. He was leaning against the front of bonnet of the limousine, calmly smoking on a cigarette as Buffy ran over to him and hauled him into a standing position by the lapels of his jacket.

“Get in and drive.” The edge of panic could be heard clearly in the cut of her voice.

“Miss Summers?”

“Just do it, damn it!” she said as she skidded around to the other side of the car and got in the passenger seat foregoing the luxury of the main part of the limo. The driver got in the car quickly and started the engine just as someone came jogging out the front doors after them.

The driver swung the car around and headed for the gates.

“You going to tell me what’s going on?” The driver asked as they managed to clear the gates without mishap.

“Just drive, take me back to the main part of town, I’ll be fine once I’m there.” They fell silent once again as he sped them back towards Sunnydale.

The further they got from the mansion, the more Buffy began to calm down. The tears began to fall unheeded and she turned her head away from the driver to avoid more questioning. It wasn’t what she had done to the other vamp—the damage she had caused in itself was minimal—but the darkness she had felt beneath it.

Buffy looked down at the palm of her hand, burned from where she had grabbed the cross. It was red and angry, sending bolts of pain up her arm every now and then. She poked at the blistered surface and watched with a morbid interest as it began to weep a clear fluid.

“It’s a nasty burn you’ve got there,” the chauffeur commented.

She didn’t answer him. Her tensed muscles began to relax as familiar sights began to whiz past her window. She was back on familiar territory, back to things she knew and understood.

“Just drop me off here,” Buffy said, indicating an area which was a block away from the hotel in which the agency had placed her. He slowed the car and pulled over to the curb. Buffy got out without a word to the driver and hurried off down the street. She needed to be alone. She wanted to forget what had happened. She wanted to call her mother and hear her tell her that everything was alright.

Buffy quickly made her way up to her room, shutting the door firmly behind her before resting her head against its surface.

She breathed deeply as she tried to calm herself, wiping the stray tears away from her face with her uninjured hand. In here at least she was by herself and the outside world couldn’t reach her. In here she could pretend it didn’t exist.

“Evening, pet.” With a small shriek, Buffy spun around quickly at the sound of an unfamiliar voice behind her. Her eyes went wide as they locked with a pair of blue eyes.

He was watching her with amusement from his reclined position on her sofa.

“Who the hell are you and what the hell are you doing in my room?” she asked nervously. Now that she was aware of it, she could feel his signature pulsing deep within her subconscious. The power he held was radiating off him and she knew that should he decide to attack, she wouldn’t have time to even think of escaping.

“The name’s Spike,” he said casually.

“What do you want?”
Spike chuckled and stood up as he started walking towards her. “That’s a loaded question. But right now?”

Buffy nodded mutely.

“To talk is all.” As he neared her, he slowly reached out and took her hand. Despite her better judgement Buffy felt something in her stomach flip at the feel of his hand against her own and allowed Spike to lead her over to the couch. He pushed her gently into the seat before taking his, own making sure he was only far enough away to remain unobtrusive.

“Why did you run, pet?” he asked gently. His voice was rich like honey—smooth and deep—sending shivers down her spine.

Her mind told her not to open up to him, not to let him into her head, but her voice betrayed her and she found herself telling him what was wrong. “I didn’t like what I felt.”

Spike looked at her confused. “What? Powerful? In control?”

“Like a monster,” she whispered quietly, her eyes darting away from his to stare unseeingly at a point over his shoulder. Her eyes had glazed over with unshed tears and Spike frowned at her in concern.

“You didn’t act like a monster, pet.” She noticed the use of his word ‘act’ but didn’t make comment on it. Of course, she was a monster now, something demonic, a parasite that had to live of the blood of others to survive. Her stomach lurched again at the prospect of drinking blood.

“I could feel it though,” she said, coming back to the conversation. “I could feel it beneath the surface of my skin, waiting for the right time to claw its way out and then… I’ll be no better than my sire.” Her words were tinged with a quiet anger as her eyes focused on his again, daring him to refute what she had said.

“Penn’s going through a tough time,” Spike replied diplomatically, thinking back to how the vampire had spent the last month in a alcohol induced haze to try and dull the pain he was experiencing.

“And that makes it okay?” Buffy questioned, angrily shooting up from her seat to stare down at him. “That makes what he did to me okay?”

“No, I didn’t say that, pet. He knows it’s wrong and he has to pay the price for it.” Spike sighed and looked down at his hands that were dangling between his legs. “But the grief that he’s going through at the moment has killed him. Not many vampires last as long as he has after the death of their mate.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Buffy asked as she sunk back down into her seat again.

“You mean the mate thing? It’s a vampire marriage of sorts, I guess. When a vampire claims another as their mate they create an unbreakable bond that binds them together. Penn and Anna were as close two mates could be and very much in love. When she was killed it killed him too, just not in the literal sense.”

Buffy snorted. “So he thought he’d go on an illegal turning spree and punish others for his pain?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at him. “Well, I don’t accept that!”

“It’s wasn’t like that,” Spike sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Did you not notice the similarities between you and that other chit, love? All the girls he’s turned in the last month had the same look—long blonde hair, big green eyes, and a pretty face. You all look somewhat like Anna did. His drunken mind was trying to turn you so you could take her place as his mate, but after he had finished turning you he realized what he had done and that he couldn’t go through with it, so he left you.”

“So why didn’t he just kill us? Destroy the evidence?” She could feel her anger beginning to dwindle. She clutched at it desperately, not wanting to accept what Spike was saying, not wanting to see Penn as anything but a monster. Not that his reasons excused what he did, but it made him seem more real and she didn’t want that.

“You were all made as a childe—all six of you. It is as painful for a sire to lose a childe as it is for a childe to lose their sire. He has had to suffer the loss of five of them on top of his grief for his mate already.” Spike explained quietly hoping she would understand what he was trying to tell her.

“Melanie?” Buffy already knew the answer. There had been six turned and he had already lost five—she was the sixth.

“The other chit? Yeah, she was dusted.”

Buffy bit her lip suddenly as she grew nervous about his presence in her hotel room. “So is that why you’re here? To dust me as well?”

Spike smirked at her, which did little to ease her fears. “No, love, I’m here to take you back.”

Chapter 4



“No.” The answer was simple and straight to the point. No. She wasn’t going back to that place and there was nothing that would otherwise change her mind. Going back would mean accepting what she was—a monster. Nothing about the way she had behaved that night was okay—nothing about it would ever be okay. She wouldn’t consent to dwell in a place that welcomed that kind of behaviour as common nature.

Spike frowned at her. “No?”

“What part of ‘no’ did you not understand?” she retorted snidely, turning her gaze away from his piercing blue eyes. They seemed to look straight through her and see past all the barriers she had erected around herself. It was unnerving in the worst possible way. Even after turning, she could feel them burning into her back, and she knew that if she were to form any kind of acquaintance with him that would not change. Spike appeared to be the type of person that saw the heart of things and not just the representation that was presented, no matter how hard you tried to hide.

“The part where you said ‘no’.” Confusion was waring with his patience and Buffy could hear the slip of control in his voice. He took a deep breath and let it out with a rush as he tried to calm himself down again enough to talk to her without raising his voice. “You have to come back, pet, you belong with your own kind.”

The rage that bubbled up inside her was unpreventable. Suddenly, all of the emotions she had been trying so badly to repress seemed to burst loose inside her. The anger over what was done to her, the pain of knowing she would never again be able to go out into the light, the fear she held of what was in her future, what was to come. They all rushed to the surface and suddenly she couldn’t hold it in anymore—she didn’t want to.

Buffy’s voice broke on a sob as she shot up out of her seat to stare down at Spike. Her hands were shaking with emotion, and she found it hard to look him in the eye. “Penn is not my own kind!”

There was a long pause as she spun away from him and buried her head in her hands.

“He is, pet.” His voice was soft and calm as he took her hand and pulled her gently back down onto the sofa. “We’re not all like that, you know—Penn wasn’t always like that. What he did was in no way excusable, and he will pay for it with his life, but just because there is a monster inside you doesn’t mean you have to be one. There is the potential for good and bad within everyone, even vampires. The only difference is your hold over the bad will just have to be a little more firm that it would have been if you had remained human. You will learn to control the demon in time, Buffy.”

Buffy sniffled and wiped her eyes. Damn him and his logic. He was right—she knew that to some degree—had she been all evil upon her awakening then she likely wouldn’t haven been so upset now. But it was hard for her to come to terms with the fact that she now held the capacity for so much evil—evil which some part deep inside of her craved to let loose.

It was as if there were two parts of her both raging against the other. She could feel the internal battle—it had been waring quietly within her head since she had risen—but already she could feel her human side had some measure of control and the though calmed her somewhat.

She looked across at the blond vampire sitting beside her and gave him a small smile. “Do I really have to go back?”

“You really do,” Spike replied, as he returned her smile with a larger one of his own. “You can’t expect it to be easy adjusting—because it won’t be—but you’ll have people around you who will be able to help, pet.”

“It’s just…” she sighed and looked past him towards the window. The curtains were still taped closed but there was no longer a patch of light on the wall. “I’m never going to be able to do some of the things I’ve dreamt of my whole life.”

“Letting go is hard, but if you ever want a chance at being happy again you do it. New dreams will come along even, things you might never have been able to do otherwise.”

Buffy looked back at him. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

He gave her a bittersweet smile. “Some of us—the older ones—we were victims once too”

The silence that followed was heavy with the weight of meaning from his words. He had been a victim, a man who hadn’t chosen the path of vampirism and likely understood what she was going through better than she did. It brought a new element to the man sitting before her. Despite his elevated status as a master vampire, they suddenly seemed to be on the same level. She was able to look at him and see a glimpse of the man he was, just as he had been able to see right through her earlier with just one look.

She took a deep breath and let out a sigh. “Who’s going to…Mr. Giles, the man from the Human Demon Relations Office, he said I would be appointed a new sire?”

Spike nodded and took the question in stride, seeing it for what it really was—her consent to return with him to the mansion. “The position will probably go to Angelus. You may have noticed him tonight: tall, dark, stupid hair that sticks up everywhere and a big forehead? Broody sort of fellow?”

Buffy couldn’t help the giggle the escaped her lips at Spike’s description of the vampire. The way he was describing Angelus sounded positively ridiculous. She was certain she had seen no one of the like in her short visit to the mansion or would have recognised him from the description she had been provided, given the chance.

“He’s my, Dru and—more importantly—Penn’s sire, so I’m guessing the job will go to him,” Spike said with a smile, glad that he had at least gotten a giggle out of the forlorn vampiress.

“So that will make me like… your sister?”

Spike snorted. “In human terms, I guess, but vampires don’t really work that way, sweetheart. You’ll understand more later. You ready to get going?” Spike smiled and pulled Buffy to her feet without waiting for an answer.


*****


The mansion seemed more foreboding the second time around. It might have been because Buffy knew what it housed behind its doors, or because of the long shadows it cast across the gardens surrounding the house—but the night seemed darker than it had on her first arrival. Even without the prospect of meeting her fate, the butterflies that seemed to be becoming a permanent fixture in her stomach were more than making themselves known.

Spike gave her a reassuring smile. “I can feel your nerves, pet. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“What do you mean you can feel me? Why can’t I feel you?” Buffy’s eyes went wide before slamming shut the moment the words had left her mouth. Oh, God! Please don’t say anything, please don’t…

Spike chuckled. “If you wanted to feel me, pet, all you had to do was ask.”

Buffy could feel her cold body heating up at his words. Mortification was rolling off her in waves as she sunk deeper into her seat as Spike guided the car back through the gates to the mansion. I can’t look at him. I’m never opening my mouth again.

“We’re here, pet.” The tone of the amusement was still evident in his voice as he killed the car’s engine and got out.

The second the driver’s side door was closed, Buffy buried her face in her hands and moaned out in embarrassment. “Why me?”

Buffy turned to open her door and pulled back in surprise when it opened for her. She looked up to see a smirking Spike staring down at her, his eyes telling her he knew exactly what she had been thinking as he helped her out of the car. She gave him an embarrassed smile as he closed the door behind her and took her hand. “Ready?”

She bit her lip and looked up at the house. Was she?

Not waiting for a response, Spike tugged her arm gently. “Come one, love, I’ll take you back inside.”

Buffy followed helplessly as he guided her back up the stone steps that led to the front door. It opened as they neared it and Spike pulled the keys to the car out of his pocket and dropped them in the hands of the vampire holding the door open. “Thanks, mate.”

Once again Buffy felt her breath hitch at the splendour of the house. She looked around at the gothic paintings and sculptures that littered the halls, all adding to its sinister beauty. One painting in particular caught her eye and she couldn’t help but take a small step closer to it. It was frighteningly beautiful and chilling all at once—captivating all the same.

The painting was of a young woman with long flowing brown hair, curly and reaching to her waist in length. She was being held from behind by a man in a stereotypical vampire pose—one arm tightly banded around her waist pulling her back tightly up against his chest, and the other hand buried in amongst her hair holding her head to the side. The man’s face was buried in the woman’s neck, thin rivulets of blood running from the place where his mouth met her neck. There was such a mixture of both pain and pleasure in her face that it was hard to tell which one she was feeling if you studied it for too long. One of the woman’s hands was lifted to the vampire’s head and was gripping his hair—you couldn’t tell if she was trying to push him away or pull him closer—the other hung limply at her side.

“Oh my God.” The statement left her mouth on a breath barely above a whisper, yet still managing to capture Spike’s attention.

He watched Buffy as she stared transfixed by the painting, seemingly stuck between awe and horror. “It’s a painting of the turning of Simone. She was the head of the Aurelius clan before the Master. It’s tradition to have their turnings depicted in paintings once they have passed on their reign.”

At the sound of his voice, Buffy turned towards Spike before her gaze was once more drawn back to the painting. “It’s, um…she’s beautiful. Who was the vampire that turned her?”

“She wasn’t of pure Aurelian blood. Her sire wasn’t from the clan, but that’s all we know. My history is a little sketchy, pet, but I think she was mated to the Master’s sire.”

Buffy frowned. “Oh.”

She didn’t understand how Simone could come to be the leader of a clan—especially the Aurelian clan—if she wasn’t of pure blood, unless it was by default at the death of her mate. But after what Spike had told her about Penn, she wasn’t sure that theory could be considered entirely plausible. Penn had lasted longer than most after his mate’s death. She couldn’t see Simone lasting long enough to become ruler of the clan.

“Come on, I’ll show you to your room. The sun will be up soon.” Spike’s voice brought her back to the present. He was lightly tugging on her arm to pull her away from the painting.

Buffy’s eyes left it reluctantly as Spike manoeuvred her away from the painting and towards a marble staircase. A chill ran down her spine as she turned her back to the painting. She felt uncomfortable leaving herself exposed to its moving eyes. Something about it had set her on edge again when she had been beginning to feel the beginnings of calm after days of turmoil. She had a feeling that the impromptu history lesson wouldn’t be the last she heard of Simone.

Chapter 5



“Are you ready, Buffy?”

Buffy looked up from where she had been staring at her hands and into the brown eyes of her soon-to-be sire. Was she? Despite her anger towards Penn, when put on the spot she wasn’t sure whether she was ready to be rid of their deep seated connection. She had been sure that no such connection existed and had been loathe to admit that after hours of introspection, she could in fact feel something connecting her to the beast that had done this to her. Admitting that she wasn’t ready to see it gone would be even harder.

Angelus held his hand out calmly.

Buffy stared at the proffered extremity. When she was a child, her grandmother had told her that you could learn a lot from just looking at a person’s hands. She had never really understood what her grandmother had meant, and now, looking at Angelus’ hand she had never found her longing for that particular gift more.

Buffy reached her hand out slowly, hesitating for only a moment before she slipped her smaller hand into his larger one. In the end what choice did she have? She needed a sire and Penn wasn’t an option.

Angelus gave her a small smile of reassurance as he led her over to a small wooden door on the other side of the room. The squeak in its hinges as it was pushed open made her smile as she thought of how it managed to fit the setting the mansion carried so aptly—sinister. She repressed the slightly nervous chuckle that threatened to escape as she stepped through the doorway, following Angelus into the smaller room.

A gasp rang through the room as her step faltered for a split second over the threshold, causing her to stumble as her eyes landed on the room’s interior.

Torches lined the stone walls of the circular room, their light flickering in the air current, causing eerie shadows play across the faces of its occupants—the Order of Aurelius minus Angelus who was leading her in. They were standing in a circle around the border of the room, dressed in black as usual, but with the added addition of large hooded cloaks that covered them almost completely.

The sight in itself was not what bothered her. In the few days she had spent living in the Aurelius mansion, she had grown accustomed to its creepy lighting and black clad figures wandering about. No, what gave her pause were the two stone dais that stood in the centre of the room.

Buffy could see the iron restrains bolted to the floor either side of them—old and rusted—as well as dark patches staining the stone that she was almost positive would turn out to be blood on closer inspection. Ritual room? For what, ritual virgin sacrifices?

“You know, suddenly I’m not so sure about this,” she mumbled aloud as she held herself out of easy reaching distance.

Angelus smiled and held his hand out once more. “It’s okay, Buffy.”

What was okay about being shackled to a stone bed stained with blood? Suddenly, Angelus’ open handed beckoning didn’t seem so much a welcoming as it did a shrouded threat.

Angelus’ smile widened at her hesitation as he stepped forward to take her hands in his own. Despite her reservations she came with ease, finding herself led to the centre of the room and shackled to one of the stone beds before she could give voice to the protests that were rising in her throat.

She focused on trying to bite back the fear that was rising within her stomach over their intentions. More and more this was beginning to feel like an elaborate set up to see her dusted.

The last shackle closed around her ankle with a definite clank resounding throughout the room as she lay staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. Stay calm, they would have dusted you on sight if the wanted you dead. It was amazing how much could change in such a short time. Just a few days earlier she would have welcomed her end had she been given the chance to say goodbye to her family. Now, even the thought of it being possible filled her with an almost mind-numbing terror.

Buffy’s attention was diverted from her inner musings as one of the nine stepped forward from the shadows and lowered the hood from his face. For the first time in her life, she was looking into the sober brown eyes of her sire. They were grief stricken. She had never seen so much pain radiating from so deep within one person before. His whole stature spoke of defeat.

Penn removed his cloak slowly and passed it to his sire. Buffy watched as the two vampires stood before one another silently.

A bittersweet smile touched the younger vampire’s lips “Glory to the clan of Aurelius?”

“Never doubt it,” was Angelus’ cryptic reply.

It was a goodbye. Buffy could hear the finality in their voices moments before they embraced quickly and Penn was shackled to the dais beside hers. She would have found the move comforting had she not witnessed Penn’s final words to his sire.

There was silence throughout the room as Angelus methodically closed the shackles around his childe’s limbs. Buffy’s head rolled to the side to look at her sire. He was watching her, and there was a look in his eyes that she couldn’t decipher. It seemed to be caught between regret and awe—she didn’t know which it was meant to be so her face remained neutral as she watched him watch her.

“Let those present stand witnesses to this moment.” Angelus stepped up between them and came to lay a hand over the centre of both of their chests.
He spoke calmly as his eyes scanned the circle, making eye contact with each member of the family.

“We come without prejudice or motive to this Embracement,” they repeated in unison.

Oh My God.

Angelus removed his hand from Penn’s chest to take up one of the nearby torches. Stepping forward, he touched it to a mark on the floor and watched as it ignited with a whoosh. The flames burst to life and crawled their way along the floor twisting through intricately carved grooves following the mapped out pattern until the three of them were surrounded by a ring of fire.

Angelus replaced the torch and positioned his hand on his childe’s chest once more. “As the ring of fire is created, none shall leave until the ritual is complete. Do you bear witness?”

“We bear witness,” the order replied

The deep tenor of Angelus’ voice washed over Buffy as he spoke the first words of the ritual. The moment was surreal. Save for the light the fire cast, the room was in darkness. She could see smoke curling around the ceiling, dissipating slowly through the only means of ventilation within the room—slim air holes positioned between the stone to allow smoke to escape but no light to enter.

“Do you cast this childe from your care and into my guidance, knowing that I will provide for her and teach her the ways of the family?” Angelus spoke clearly without any unnecessary inflection.

Penn’s eyes were riveted to some point on the ceiling as he answered. “I do.”

Angelus lifted his eyes once more “Do you bear witness?”

“We bear witness,” the order spoke clearly.

Buffy took a harsh gasp for breath as her back involuntarily arched from the stone and something began to snap loose inside her. Her eyes were wide and her face was set in a frozen mask of pain as a burning feeling started to rush through her limbs in the direction of her heart. Her body warped away from the cold stone in an effort to escape the pain that was beginning to race through her. A loud broken wail was torn from her lips seconds before her demon burst onto her features.

Her body jerked violently as she tugged at her restraints. Angelus’ firm hand struggled to hold her down as he spoke over her pained wails. “Do you willingly relinquish all rights to the responsibility of her protection and understand the consequences of this action?”

Penn was gasping for unneeded breath as his head rolled to look at the childe that was being torn away from him “I…” She was in so much pain. He wanted to go to her—protect her and comfort her. He could feel everything she was feeling within himself as they experienced the feeling of their connection starting to sever.

Penn screwed his eyes shut against her. “I do.”

“Do you bear witness?” Angelus practically growled at the order as he fought to control Buffy’s bucking form. Her demon was in control, snarling and snapping at anything within reach in between the broken cries that were being involuntarily torn from her.

“We bear witness,” the order repeated calmly, remaining unaffected by the sight.

Buffy was quivering. Things like this were only meant to happen in movies and books. She felt disconnected from her body and the pain she was feeling. Buffy watched herself from a distance as her body warped and clawed at the stone bed beneath—her fingertips were torn and bloody from where her fingernails had broken off, her wrists rubbed raw and bleeding from pulling on her restraints.

She felt herself shrinking away from herself—the monster was in complete control again. In that moment she knew she was nothing more than an animal amidst the violent growls and snarls she was aiming at Angelus as the one responsible for her pain. Yet she could still see the girl—pleas for her sire could still be heard interspersed in an endless litany of pain-filled shrieks and sobs.

They had told her it would be distressing—they had lied. She was feeling more than simple distress. Tormented anguish was more apt a description. Her sire was being ripped away from her and they had bound her to a bed to stop her from doing anything about it. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t wanted him to begin with—she wanted him now and that was all that counted.

Angelus slammed his hand down against her shoulder to hold her to the stone. “Is it your wish that this ritual be completed and willingly consent to the severing of all ties to your childe?”

Penn didn’t answer, a pained whimper falling from his lips.

“Childe!” Angelus’ tone was commanding, snapping Penn back to the present. “Is this your wish?”

Penn seemed to struggle with his answer, his own demon bursting onto his features as he practically screamed his response. “Yes! It is my wish!”

Angelus grabbed Buffy’s flailing arm as she tried in vein to claw her way out of her restrains and held her wrist out over Penn’s mouth. The younger vampire didn’t allow room for thought or doubt as he bit down harshly and began to swallow mouthfuls of her blood.

“As he takes back the blood that animated her and gave her strength do you bear witness?” Angelus asked.

“We bear witness!” the order chanted over the cacophony of shrieks. Their answer echoed around the room as they watched Buffy freeze as the last word fell in unison from their lips. Her wailing ceased and for a moment she remained rigid in her warped pain before becoming limp and sinking slowly down to the stone to which she was chained.

The room was buzzing with a deafening silence.

All movement within her had ceased as her eyes grew dull and glassy. The air that she had gasped left her body in a long winded exhale and her head lolled lifelessly to the side to stare unseeingly through the flames. She felt empty—like she was nothing more than a shell and inside was hollow. Like someone had come in and shoved their hand into her chest before ripping out everything that she was.

Millions of thoughts seemed to run through her head as she stared past the wall of flames surrounding them, yet idly she found herself wondering if you would be able to hear the ocean inside her if you held her open mouth to your ear. Wasn’t that what was meant to happen? If something was empty, weren’t you meant to be able to hear the sea inside it? The absurdity of the thought amused her yet she felt no inclination to show any outward reaction.

Her body’s natural reactions had shut down as it tried in vain to cope without the constant support that the presence of a sire provided for a fledgling. He had been in there all along. Buffy hadn’t thought she could hate Penn any more for what he had done to her, now he had left her and her demon without support and she didn’t know how to cope.

Images of another life flashed before her eyes. They moved too quickly for her to make out anything other that dull shapes the sound echoing shrieks that mirrored the ones that had fallen from her lips moments earlier. But she tried to focus on them to distract herself from the nothing that she felt.

The room watched on as Buffy’s mouth fell open and a small whimper passed her lips—the only indication that she was still with them. She didn’t respond as the shackles were slowly removed from her wrists and ankles or as Angelus scooped up her inert form and cradled her body to his own.

Angelus bit down into his own wrist, letting the blood well in the wounds before spilling over, manoeuvring her body so that his wrist was positioned to trickle blood into her open mouth.

“Aware of the consequences of my actions and in the witness of those present, I embrace you as my childe and welcome you into the familial fold. As my blood gives you strength,” he paused to morph into his demon’s visage, “yours creates the bond that will unite us as family.” Angelus bit down over the almost nonexistent marks from her turning, sinking his fangs deep into the column of her neck to eradicate the prior marks.

Buffy jerked back to life and blinked rapidly as she felt his fangs enter her neck. She swallowed deeply—Angelus’ blood dribbling to stain the lips of her closed mouth and chin as she savoured the taste of an elder’s blood.

The stirrings of a connection started to shift within Buffy as Angelus continued to drink. In response, she sank her fangs into the flesh of his wrist and began to pull blood in earnest. Each pull strengthened the connection stirring between them until she felt something snap into place and she pulled back from his wrist as the word ‘sire’ fell reverently from her lips.

Angelus’ pulled back to stare down at her, his thumb coming out to swipe the spilled blood from her face. “My childe.”

The flames that had been burning at waist height around them flickered and died out completely casting the room in an almost unnatural darkness.

Buffy felt someone shift around her—the pressure of a wet tongue darting out to swipe against the side of her neck as her sire lent in to close the wounds left by his mark. She leaned in and repeated his action to the marks she had left on his wrist.

The hiss of a match being struck could be heard as a soft glow illuminated the darkened room.

Buffy slid from the stone dais, stumbling as she found her legs once more, startling slightly as a strong hand pressed against the centre of her back steadied her. She felt something heavy being settled around her shoulders and her hand instinctively rose to inspect the source. She felt the soft wool of a cloak underneath her fingers as it was draped around her shoulders.

Buffy turned to look into familiar blue eyes.

“Welcome to the family, love.” Light from the only source of illumination was flickering in his eyes as his hand came up to run down the side of her face briefly as he gave her a warm smile. Buffy barely had time to react to the feel of his touch before his hand dropped again and she was left to recall its touch.


___________________________________________________________________________


AN: Thankyou to everyone who has left a comment for this fic so far and also to Andrea for beta'ing this fic for me :)

Sorry this chapter to so long to get out, an uncooperative muse was making things difficult to write. Hopefully the chapter turned out ok though.

Chapter 6



The tremors started without warning, beginning in her hands and quickly working their way up her arms. Buffy’s eyes seem to grow dull and distant once again as she began to shake. Blindly she reached out to clutch at the material of Spike’s cloak as she tried to steady herself.

Spike, confused by her actions, looked down at the hands fisting in his clothing. “Buffy?”

She didn’t answer. Instead her eyes remained fixed on a point above his shoulder as she grew light in the head and began to sway dangerously on her feet. Tremors were quaking through her whole body, and her teeth were beginning to chatter with the force of them.

Spike held her tightly as he called out to his sire. “Angelus!”

“Buffy?” Angelus called as he quickly moved across the room to his childe. “She’s going into shock from the ritual.”

Angelus pried Buffy away from Spike and took her into his arms as her eyes rolled up into the back of her head and she fell limp into his arms. Even in her state of unconsciousness, the shaking didn’t stop. Her skin was icy and covered in a fine sheen of sweat that made her feel clammy to the touch.

“We should get her to her room. Dru and I will draw her a bath and help her into bed,” Darla said as she moved forward to stand beside her mate. “Dru, honey, will you get the door?”

The brunette vampiress floated forward and opened the small door that led from the ritual chamber. Angelus followed behind her with the limp form of his childe safely encompassed within his arms.


*****


“I’ve never seen a vampire go into shock,” Spike said after a long period of silence. He lifted his head to look at his sire who was calmly sitting across from him.

Angelus lifted his head to gaze at his childe’s agitated form. The younger vampire couldn’t sit still, his knee had been bouncing up and down on the ball of his foot for the last ten minutes before he gave in and finally stood up to start pacing.

“It has been known to happen before. Buffy was put through a high state of stress tonight—it’s part of the reason most clans don’t practices the ritual anymore. There are very few reasons for an Embracement ritual to ever actually take place; the amount of stress it puts on a vampire—the childe especially—can have dire consequences.”

Spike stopped pacing to turn and look at his sire. “You knew this and you still went through with it? When was the last time our clan performed the ritual? How did you know she would come back from it?”

“I didn’t know. None of us did.” Angelus spoke softly, yet still the firm edge of authority could be heard within his voice. “The last time the ritual was performed, Simone was the childe. Not even the Master had witnessed an Embracement, much less undergone one.”

Spike’s expression turned horrified.

“Not since Simone? How do you know this is not just some side effect then?” He shouted, flinging his hand back towards Buffy’s unconscious form stretched out under the covers of her bed. “What if she doesn’t wake up, Angelus?”

“Then she doesn’t wake up,” Angelus answered simply.

Spike gave him an astonished look. “How can you be so nonchalant about the well-being of your own childe?

Angelus gave a commanding growl pulling Spike back into line. “You know damn well that I care about what is mine, childe. I speak the truth. If she doesn’t wake up then there is little we can do about it, but I’m not saying that I wouldn’t do everything in my power to try.”

Spike held his sire’s gaze challengingly for a moment before conceding. His body visibly sagged as he let out an unneeded breath and slumped back down into his chair.

Angelus’ voice softened as he continued. “Spike, part of the reason Penn’s childer were tested so on coming before the council was to test the strength of their demon on the knowledge that Penn likely wouldn’t be around much longer to play the role of sire. You saw how Buffy handled herself on pure instinct alone. She is a fighter by nature. With some training, she has the potential to be unstoppable. She showed us that night that she had what it would take to physically withstand the pain the ritual evokes. What would have happened if she had been like that other girl that came in with her?”

Spike frowned as he let his eyes travel to the small form huddled under the bed covers on the opposite side of the room. Every now and then she would twitch slightly, as though the tremors from earlier had died away and only the after shocks were still affecting her. If she had been the other girl she’d likely be dead. If she had been the other girl, he doubted he would have cared so much.

“She did remarkably well to endure it as she did; not many would have had a demon strong enough. She’ll pull through.”

“You don’t know that. Not even the Master could know that,” Spike answered, never letting his gaze shift from Buffy’s inert form.

“Maybe not, but I believe it.”


*****


Buffy’s eyes flickered rapidly underneath her eyelids as she lay remembering a time long past. Memories which were not hers to begin with, but she could do nothing to stop. They was stuck on repeat within her mind—images flying through too fast for her to pick up more than vague images and shapes at a time.

A woman tied to the same stone slab she had been chained to no more than an hour earlier. Her back warped in the same arc of pain, the same picture of terror painted across her face.

A looming shadow hung over her.

A ring of flames.

A burning body.

Blood.

Dead glassy eyes drained of all life and a high pitched wail that echoed throughout her mind which had the same effect that nails have when dragged down a blackboard. Bone rattling and blood chilling, till all that remained was an icy pit of terror inside one’s stomach and the slight feeling of nausea.

The images kept flashing through her mind, without any particular order. She didn’t know which came first or how to piece them together.

“We revoke the right…” The echo of a male voice filtered through her mind out of sync with the images she was seeing before fading once more.

Instead of slowing down, the images seemed to be flowing faster and faster around her till they were only a blur of speed whipping around her past her mind’s eye. The echo of a voice passed around her and floated in the atmosphere.

“No! Silas—SIRE!” The female cry of pain echoed mirrored the ones that had fallen from her lips earlier in the ritual chamber.

“We revoke your right,” the male voice was rising in volume. “We revoke your right to sire this protected childe!”


“Do you willing relinquish all rights to the responsibility of her protection and understand the consequences of this action?”

Penn was gasping for unneeded breath as his head rolled to look at the childe that was being torn away from him “I…” She was in so much pain. He wanted to go to her—protect her and comfort her. He could feel everything she was feeling within himself as they experienced the feeling of their connection starting to sever.

Penn screwed his eyes shut against her “I do.”


The looming shadow became a cloaked form leaning over two figures. He was shaking with the exertion of holding them against the stone laid out beneath them. The iron restraints that bound their wrists were held taut with tension. Long curly brown hair spilled out over the stone dais behind the woman who was shackled to it.

“NO!” One of the figures growled fiercely and bucked violently against the hand that held him down. “You can’t do this to me!”

His head whipped to the side to look at the woman bound beside him.

Buffy felt shock register through her—she had seen that face before.

The scene faded out around her and a new one moved in to take its place. The same night, the same event, only later in the ordeal.

Buffy watched, unable to stop the play of events as a knife was withdrawn and shallow cuts made on the inside of the woman’s arms. Blood blossomed from the wounds and dribbled down the pale skin of her arms and onto the stone beneath her.


Buffy could see the iron restrains bolted to the floor either side of them—old and rusted—as well as dark patches staining the stone that she was almost positive would turn out to be blood on closer inspection.


“Drained of the damned blood that animates her, so too is she drained of the bond that links her to your being.”

Buffy watched strangely familiar events unfold before her as the young woman was cut and her blood spilled onto the stone beneath her as she was drained of her blood—drained of the familial bond that linked her to her sire, just as Buffy had been drained of the blood that linked her to Penn.

Only echoes of the sounds from the ritual made it through to her—a distant scream, a pained cry, a heated curse for retribution as they tumbled from the lips of the woman’s sire.

Buffy watched as the cloaked figure took the vampiress in his arms and completed the ritual much as Angelus had done with her earlier. The ring of flames surrounding the three of them leapt higher before they smothered the body of the vampire beside them.

His shrieks were muted as the flames consumed him. It was the last word that fell from his lips that jolted her from her state of unconsciousness.

“Simone.”


*****


Spike and Angelus were by her side even before the room had swum back into a clear view. “Buffy?”

A cool wrist was placed under her noise and the smell of sire’s blood beckoned her. Without thinking she shifted into her demon’s face and bit down into the proffered wrist, allowing the rich blood to sooth her and give her strength.

A low growl echoed throughout the room.

She felt a strong hand run down the side of her head and brush her dishevelled hair back from her face as she fed.

“That’s enough, childe,” Angelus commanded softly.

Her demon had withdrawn before the words had finished falling from his lips. She looked up into the concerned eyes of both her sire and Spike. They were looming over her watching as if they were waiting for her to slip away from them again.

“I’m okay.” Her voice was croaky and barely audible from the strain the ritual had put on her vocal chords. She swallowed and tried again “I’m okay. I’m not going to pass out again.”

Spike didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure? You looked fine the last time too until you started doing a good impersonation of someone having a bleedin’ seizure.”

She gave him a small smile. “I’m fine, really.”

Each time the words fell from her lips, they held a little more truth. She didn’t feel faint, but the images of Simone’s Embracement were still fresh in her mind and a pit of nausea still clutched her insides. The image of the painting that hung in the entrance to the mansion appeared in her mind. She couldn’t be positive, but she thought she might now have a name to put to the face of Simone’s sire. Silas.

“You’re sure?” Angelus asked again.

She nodded. “Just a little worn out, I guess. What time is it?”

“A little after dawn.”

Her eyes widened in shock. She had been out that long? “You should have left me. You need rest, because both of you look like hell.”

Spike smirked. “And here I thought I was devilishly handsome no matter what time of day or night it was.”

His smile turned genuine when he got the desired effect and she gave him an amused giggle.

“Put your hormones away, please. It’s too early to watch this sort of thing,” Angelus’ light-hearted comments breaking the moment. “If you’re sure you’re okay, Buffy?” He paused to wait for her confirmation, given in the form of a nod “Then I’ll be off. Get some rest, okay?”

The door closed silently behind him leaving Buffy alone with the bleached vampire who seemed to have been her shadow for the last couple of days.

Spike gave her a look. “Going to tell me the truth?”

“What do you mean?” She asked, playing ignorant.

“I can tell your not okay, pet.”

Buffy smiled reassuringly at him. “I’m fine, honestly. I guess I’m just feeling a little off from the ritual, is all.”

For a long moment he just stared at her. She tried not to look away from his probing gaze. Those eyes that could strip you of all your defences until you were laid out bare before him. She didn’t want to know what he saw, or give him the chance to see anything at all but she knew that looking away would give him all the answers he needed so she held his gaze as best she could.

“You know where I am if you decided you want to tell me,” he said finally.

Buffy nodded gratefully as he got up from the bed. “Thank you.”

Leaning over, he placed a kiss on the top of her head before moving silently to the door. “Goodnight, Buffy.”

“Goodnight.” Buffy lay back against her pillows as the door closed behind him. Silas. For some reason she didn’t think Spike or Angelus would look favourably on her delving into Simone’s past. She couldn’t help it though. For some reason, Buffy was drawn to the woman she had first seen in the painting and the vampire she had been.

Silas was her first tangible lead in the search she had only just decided to undertake. He was supposedly the vampire that created Simone, and logically the first place to start looking for information on her. She resigned herself to searching the Aurelian library housed in the mansion for any texts she could find on him and his childe.



AN: Thank you to Andrea for beta’ing this fic for me and to everyone who has commented so far. Your comments have been fantastic :)

Chapter 7



Arrangements for the daytime meeting had been difficult. While the car windows and the windows of the Sunnydale Human Demon Relations Office had a special coating that protected Buffy from the sun’s deadly rays, getting to and from the car proved difficult. Yet the arrangement couldn’t be helped. Her mother couldn’t—or wouldn’t as Buffy suspected—meet with her after dark any day this week or the next, so a meeting had been conveniently set up at the Relations Office.

Neutral ground—it required neither and invite into Joyce Summers’ home or the risk of walking into a house full of vampires. Joyce hadn’t been enthusiastic about either option, so Rupert Giles’ office seemed the next best thing. Not to mention the hundreds of trained professionals that would be milling about the office should something go wrong and her daughter try to attack.

The thought that her mother didn’t trust her anymore stung, but Buffy could understand the hesitation. Instead she had done all that she could to comply with her mother’s wishes so that she might ease her doubts.

Now Buffy was sitting in Giles’ office for the second time in just over a week. Her mother was running half an hour late. Another half hour and Buffy was going to put her down as a no show. It hurt to know that her mother didn’t want anything to do with her now that she was a vampire—she hadn’t asked for vampirism, but she was being punished for it all the same.

“I’m sure she’ll be here any moment,” Giles said with enough false conviction in his voice to confirm the thoughts that were already running through her mind. She could appreciate the sentiment behind the gesture though.

Buffy smiled sadly at him. “My mother doesn’t like vampires, Giles. I don’t need to ask you to know that the meeting with her the day after I was turned didn’t go well. I find it almost hard to believe they managed to convince her to meet with me at all.”

Giles frowned and looked at his hands knowing she was right. The elder Summers woman had been devastated by the news that her daughter had been turned, despite that, however, she had flat out refused for an hour to even contemplate meeting with her turned daughter. In the end it had been Buffy’s younger sister who had convinced their mother that she should a least make the effort to meet with Buffy. But now? Joyce Summers wasn’t going to show, and looking at Buffy, Giles knew she knew it as well as he did.

“Some families do take the news harder than others. Given time, perhaps she will come around,” he offered.

Buffy gave him another small smile, “Perhaps.”

The sound of the clock on the wall reverberated off of the walls, and with each movement the second hand seemingly echoing pointedly throughout the small room. Buffy watched the hands on the clock tick by slowly, her heart falling a little bit more each minute her mother failed to arrive.

She knew in coming that she was setting herself up for disappointment. Vampires frightened Joyce Summers. She didn’t fully understand them, or trust them. Having grown up in a time where vampires were considered no more than mythical creatures, seen only in the horror movies rented to watch late at night huddled up on the couch in the safety of your own home, the integration of real vampires into everyday life had been hard on her mother. She had tried to live in denial for months and for awhile had been successful until her next door neighbour had been turned and she had been forced to accept the truth. She had moved her family to another house not long after.

Therefore Buffy had known: the moment she became a vampire—in her mother’s eyes at least—she ceased being her daughter. Buffy Summers was dead.

Buffy let her eyes stray to the clock again. It was now less than five minutes to four o’clock.

Buffy sighed and stood up. “She’s not coming, Giles.”

“It’s not yet four o’clock,” he replied as he removed the glasses he wore and gave them a quick polish on the end of his shirt before looking back up at the clock that had loomed over them as they had sat together for the last hour.

“I seriously doubt leaving it another five minutes will—” Buffy was cut off mid speech as the door to the office slammed open making the man beside her jump in fright.

An absent hand flew to his heart. “My word!”

“Buffy?” A dishevelled looking Dawn asked from the doorway. Her face broke into a smile as her eyes landed on her sister and she launched herself across the room and into her sister’s arms.

“Dawn!” Buffy stood in shock as she looked down at the teenager wrapped around her waist. “Does mom know you’re here?”

Dawn glanced up, giving her sister a pointed look. “What do you think?”

“I’m guessing no.”

“And you’d be right. I came straight from school,” she said as she grinned up at her sister. “This is so cool. What’s it like to be a vampire?”

Giles smiled at the two siblings as he made his way to the door. “I’ll leave you two to catch up. Take as long as you need.”

Buffy smiled her thanks and waited until the door had closed behind him. “You shouldn’t be here, Dawnie.”

Dawn gave her sister an incredulous look. “What? Why not?”

“Cause it’s obvious mom doesn’t want you here. She made sure that the meeting time was during the day when you’re in school. She doesn’t want you seeing me,” Buffy explained as she pulled her sister down into the seat opposite her own.

A defiant spark ignited within Dawn’s eyes. “Well that’s too bad. You’re my sister and she can’t stop me from seeing you if I want to—which I do.”

If only that were true.

Despite herself, Buffy smiled. “I just don’t want you getting into trouble because of me.”

Dawn grinned, knowing that she had won this round with her sister. “So tell me everything. Have you met any cute vamps yet? Where are you staying?”

Buffy grinned for the first time in days as she let her sister’s incessant chatter wash over her. She may have been abandoned by her mother, but at least she knew that her sister still cared for her.


*****


It was still a few hours away from nightfall when Buffy arrived back at the mansion. The house was blanketed in total silence as she made her way back up the stairs intent on getting a few hours sleep before dusk settled in and the house was roused for the evening.

Her footsteps echoed loudly on the stairs and she found herself walking on the balls of her feet to avoid making unnecessary noise. She relaxed once more when her feet were on carpeted flooring. Navigating her way through the halls, she headed for her bedroom.

She stopped as she began to pass Spike’s door. He had said to come to him if she needed to talk. Well, no, he’d said to come to him if she decided she wanted to tell him what had been on her mind, but she figured he wouldn’t mind if she went to him anyway. She needed to talk to someone and he seemed the better option over going into the room that Angelus shared with his sire.

Buffy hesitated for a moment before moving towards his door and knocking on it lightly. No one answered.

Opening it slightly she peered into the darkness of his room. “Spike?”

Taking a deep breath, Buffy slipped soundlessly into the room as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She toed off her shoes by his door and padded across the soft carpet towards him.

“Spike?” she called again as she let her weight sink down into the soft mattress of his bed. The movement caused the covers to slip down his body and expose the bare expanse of his back. Her eyes followed its line, trailing over the slight dip in his waist before skimming across the swell of his buttocks barely hidden by his sheets. Oh God, she thought looking away in mortification, he sleeps naked.

“Buffy?” Her eyes went wide at the sound of his voice as he rolled over. She swallowed heavily as his hand reached out and touched her elbow gently. “What’s wrong?”

“I, um—I just wanted to talk. I didn’t think you’d mind,” she managed to choke out around her embarrassment, mentally berating herself at how stupid she sounded.

Spike frowned and pulled the sheet higher around his waist. “I don’t. Not at all, love. What’s wrong?”

Buffy glanced back at him and smiled when she saw the sheet bunched across his chest. He motioned her towards him with his head and encouraged her to lie down beside him. His arm naturally fell around her form as she came to rest her head against his shoulder and melted into his side.

“What’s on your mind, pet?”

His sleep roughened voice sent tingles of pleasure racing down her spine. God, what would it be like to wake up to that every morning? The feel of his voice washing over her was almost a tangible pleasure, one to which she felt sure she could easily grow accustomed.

“I was meant to meet with my mother today,” she said softly after a moment.

“Yeah? How’d it go?” His thumb was making lazy circles where it rested at the base of her spine just under the hem of her top. The constant motion was soothing and she felt her body relaxing more heavily into his embrace as her hand moved to rest against his chest.

Buffy let out a long winded sigh. “She didn’t show. I waited there for over an hour for her—nothing. Not even a phone call.”

Spike frowned and leaned down to place a soft kiss on the top of her head. “It can take time, love. Not everyone is comfortable with the idea of vampires to begin with.”

“Oh, I know, believe me. Mom is most definitely someone who is not okay with vampires. I just wish it didn’t hurt so much. These past few days, I’ve just wanted to curl up in my mommy’s warm embrace and pretend none of this ever happened. But it did. I’m a vampire and because of it my mother doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

His embrace tightened around her almost imperceptibly. “Maybe you should leave it for a little while, give her some time to get used to the idea and then go and visit her?”

She had to smile at his attempts to make her feel better over her mother’s abandonment. If he knew her mother and her feelings towards vampires then he would realise that time would only make her grow more wary. “Maybe.”

“We’re your family now too, pet.”

“I know,” Buffy said quietly as they fell into a comfortable silence. His hand was still rubbing soothing circles across her lower back. She could feel the tension she had kept trapped within her muscles since awakening begin to seep away as she allowed her body to be lulled into a state of total relaxation. “What are you plans for tonight? Anything exciting?”

His chuckle reverberated through her body. “I’m going out with you and Angelus, love.”

Buffy’s head shot up off his shoulder so she could look at him. “What? What do you mean? Since when I am going out? Where is he taking me?”

Spike’s smile grew. “He’s taking you to Requiem, pet.”

“Requiem?”


*****


Buffy could feel the heavy pulse of the music thrumming through her body even as the limousine pulled up in front of the club. Requiem. The scents that were seeping out through its doors were heady and intoxicating: human sweat, the musk of arousal, the tang of fear and the sweet spice of fresh blood. Her senses were going wild and she could barely contain her moan of hunger. Her demon was clawing to get out and feed.

“Take this,” Angelus said, pulling her attention back inside the car.

Her eyes flickered down to the gun being offered to her before drifting back up to the man holding it.

“I’m going to need a gun?” she asked, hesitantly reaching out to take the object in her hands. It was cool and heavy against her skin. Her hand fell around its handle naturally, yet somehow it still felt awkward in her grasp.

Her sire’s expression was grim. “Hopefully not, but you never know. You have to remember you’re not just Buffy Summers anymore. You’re my childe, a member of the Aurelius clan and part of the familial fold. Whether you like it or not, you just became a target in this town. With power you make enemies, and our clan is powerful.”

His voice sent chills of fear racing down her spine. A target or victim—they were the same thing if she got caught. She never wanted to be the victim again or to experience that same feeling of helplessness she had in that alley. She had thought by becoming a vampire that it would put any chance of that happening again behind her. Somehow the chance that she would become a target because of her status as an Aurelian hadn’t crossed her mind.

“I don’t know how to use it,” she said softly, looking to Spike, who was sitting beside her, for support.

Spike smiled gently, taking the gun from her. “You turn the safety off here.” He pointed to the safety switch. “Then aim and fire. Aim for the chest, it’s the biggest surface and therefore the easiest to hit. The gun shoots stakes so if you can hit them in the heart, they’ll dust.”

Angelus held another small object out to her. It was a small black strap that had a modern looking buckle on it and a gun holster. “Wear this to strap it to the outside of your thigh. Your skirt should cover any bulge it makes.”

Buffy nodded and unsnapped the buckle before pulling up her silk skirt. She stretched the strap around her leg and fumbled to do up the buckle. Buffy froze as pale hands slid across the skin of her thigh to help her. Spike snapped it up easily before taking the gun from her and sliding it into its sheath. His hands lingered over her exposed flesh for a minute before she hastily pulled her skirt down again and gave him a nervous smile. If she could blush she would have been red.

Both vampires missed the look that was passed between Angelus and his sire.

“Shall we?” Darla asked with an indifferent tone aimed at the display being put on before them.

Buffy’s eyes snapped to the elder vampire and she nodded.

“Good. Let’s go then.” The light in Darla’s eyes was mischievous as she sent a look in her lover’s direction. The car door was opened for her and she turned gracefully in her seat before sliding out of the limousine. Angelus and Drusilla followed her.

Buffy smoothed the silk of her skirt self consciously once more before turning to look at the door.

Spike smiled at her. “Ready, love?

“Ready,” she replied, before manoeuvring herself across the seat to the door and sliding out. Her skirt fell heavily around her legs as she straightened up and looked at the place before her.

Velvet ropes that contained the queue of mostly vampires waiting to get into the club were ignored as their party walked up to the front doors. She was conscious of the gun strapped to her thigh as she walked, suddenly nervous about whether she would be allowed in with a weapon on her person. Doors were opened to them without invitation as they reached the entrance however, and they slipped in without question.

The heavy pulse of the music thrumming through her body grew stronger as they entered the club and she had to brace herself against the heavy assault on her senses.

Her eyes grew impossibly wide as she took in the scenes around her and realised for the first time exactly where they were. This was no ordinary club. Angelus had taken her to a feeding club. Her eyes shot to his and she noticed the wicked gleam in his eyes.

Oh my God.





AN: Thank you to all the wonderful people who left reviews for the last chapter, your comments seriously inspire me to write faster especially when I am having trouble with a chapter ^_~ and of course to Andrea for her amazing work beta’ing this for me.

Chapter 8



For the first time since becoming a vampire, Buffy took in how truly changed her world was.

She staggered under the sudden onslaught of power that slammed into her the moment she stepped over the threshold to the club. It prickled against her skin in an almost tangible force—there were too many opposing forces in such a confined space. She could feel the different energies pushing against one another, unable to mesh to form a greater force. It was so different to the feel of her family’s aura of power to which she had grown accustomed. Unlike the power she could feel warring in the air, the power of her family blended harmoniously, pulsed over her in rolling waves, coiled itself around her and swept invitingly across her skin until it blanketed her in a warmth that beckoned her to them.

Buffy shut her eyes to steady herself before slowly opening them again. She would never have even dreamt of stepping foot in a place like this prior to being turned—not merely for the fact that it was a feeding club, but because it was clearly supernatural. The club was filled to the brim with humans and vampires alike, yet there was nothing ‘human’ about the club, it was more than obvious that the vampires ran the show in this establishment.

She tried not to gawk as she scanned the room. Bodies were draped over couches languidly, clothing and hair pushed askew and lips bruised. Eyes were slow and glazed with passion and a thick satisfaction she had previously thought only to be found through sex. Tongues darted out tasting flesh. Mouths were latched on to necks and other various—in some cases obscene—body parts as people allowed vampires to siphon their blood out through small wounds.

She had never seen so much bared skin on so many unknown people. Buffy looked down at what she was wearing—she was over dressed compared to most of the females within sight—naked flesh seemed to be worn as an accessory to an outfit as much as matching shoes and bag could be. She had underwear that covered more skin than the clothes that some of these women were wearing

Her eyes zeroed in on a couple who were lounged across a black couch not ten feet from her—close enough for her to be able to clearly hear the purrs that were emanating from the vampires chest. Close enough to see the looks of ecstasy painted across their faces.

The woman’s head was flung back, here eyes sealed shut, her mouth parted and one hand was raised above her head gripping the back of the couch hard enough for her knuckles of turn white as she cooed in pleasure. Her skirt, which might have been nice under different circumstances, was bunched around her hips baring the long expanse of her leg and her black lace panties as her vampire companion lapped at the blood that was oozing sluggishly from a small wound on her inner thigh. His hands were pushed up under her skirt, rubbing the curve where her thigh joined with her buttocks. Her free hand was clutched tightly in his hair. The display made Buffy feel more than uncomfortable. She felt trapped between horror, disgust and a morbid fascination at what she was seeing—it was the latter that scared her the most. Despite that, however, she was helpless to do anything but watch. She felt as if she were intruding on something private. Heck, that sort of stuff should be done in private and not in the middle of club where people could get a free show.

She didn’t understand what the pull to getting bitten was. As she stared at the obscene coupling, Buffy’s mind shifted effortlessly back to how she had felt when Penn had bitten her. There had been nothing intimate or sexual about that bite as the scene before her suggested. The sting of Penn’s fangs had been painful, but it was the burning pain of her blood being unwillingly pulled out through the two tiny punctures in her neck that had hurt the most. There was nothing sexy about it. Of course the vampires drinking from these humans weren’t trying to kill them as Penn had been with her. Perhaps that was the difference. Where she had been an unwilling victim these people obviously weren’t. These people wanted it—it was the reason they came here night after night. Was it the pain they got off on? Or the rush of getting close such a mystical creature, one that could kill you quicker than you could shout for help?

“What’s on your mind, childe?” There was a hint of amusement in Angelus’ voice.

Buffy looked at him for a moment trying to figure out how to best put her thoughts into words. “I don’t understand. I’ve been bitten, I know what it feels like, how can these people enjoy that feeling?”

“They do more than enjoy it,” Darla said with a delicate smirk on her face “They get off on it”

As if on cue the woman from the couch let out a long keening wail of release. Buffy’s eyes swung to her without conscious thought. The woman’s face was flushed, her breathing heavy, a sated smile curling her lips. Buffy’s eyes slammed shut. That was too private a moment to for her to feel comfortable witnessing.

“I still don’t understand,” she said softly as she turned her eyes back to her sire.

“You’ve been bitten with violence, and it was no doubt painful, but there is more than one type of bite and more than one reason behind the act. Not all bites educe pain.” A wicked grin curled his lips as Angelus’ arm wrapped around his sire’s waist. Darla moulded herself into his side and grinned up at him.

Buffy frowned and tried to ignore the looks on their faces. “That’s why you brought me here? So I could see the difference?”

Angelus nodded, “Partly.”

“What’s the other reason?”

He didn’t answer her. Instead he smiled and began to lead them deeper into the club, his arm still firmly planted around his sire’s waist. Buffy frowned and fought the urge to look back at the couple on the couch. They were embarrassing, she didn’t wanted to look at them again, but somehow the more she made a conscious effort to ignore them the more her eyes seemed inclined to pull in that direction. She bowed her head and hurried past them.

Buffy startled violently when Spike’s hand touched the bare skin of her back that was exposed by her top.

“Feelin’ a bit skittish, kitten?” He asked with a smile. She could do little to prevent the answering one that graced her own lips.

She gave him a pointed look, “Me? Never.”

“If you say so,” he said with a grin

“Well, I do,” Buffy replied, her own grin spread widely across her face.

Spike laughed and let his fingers dance across her bare back, skimming the hemming of her top lightly before settling more firmly around her waist. His touch seemed to be almost subconscious; his eyes were focused on the club around him as he scanned the crowds. Buffy smiled and settled herself in closer to his side.

Spike looked down at her and smiled.

The dance floor of the club was crowded. Vampires and humans alike were writhing together in packs to the heavy beats that pulsed through the club like a physical force. Arms were flung around necks, heads thrown back, and lower bodies interlocked in a provocative dance as they let the music move their bodies.

Buffy could see the bite marks littering multiple necks. Some carried old scars that stood out white against tanned skin, others were fresh—she was hard pressed to find anyone with virgin skin, and it was likely that those who appeared to be free of bite marks held them in hidden places.

Buffy could feel her demon stirring beneath the surface of her skin. The metallic tang of blood was thick in the air, mingling appealingly with the smell of arousal with the barest hint of fear. God help her. The sights and smells of the club were having quite the effect on her demon. It was howling to be let loose so it could feed. Her demon’s arousal flooded her veins as her human side fought to hold on.

“Save me a dance for later, kitten?”

Buffy’s head swung around to look at Spike. His nostrils were flared and something dark shifted behind his eyes. She felt her demon coo in pleasure at being directed with such a heated look.

“Always,” her voice came out deeper than usual.

Spike growled and tugged her closer to him. He could smell her arousal filling the air around them and he inhaled deeply, drawing the scent into his dormant lungs.

Angelus looked over his shoulder at his childer as the sudden scent of arousal started to fill the air around their small group. He smiled and turned back to face the vampire who had scuttled out from behind the bar to greet them.

“We’d like a private room.” The sound of Angelus’ voice snapped Buffy back to the present. The small vampire bowed deeply before her sire before straightening up with his most professional smile plastered across his face.

Buffy felt her stomach tighten again as he led them towards a room separated from the club by a thick red curtain. He flashed another smile as he stopped in front of it and swept it back with a flourish, allowing their party to pass through. Buffy felt some measure of calm wash over her when she saw it contained only some modern looking couches—black as the others had been, against blood red walls—a glass table and a bottle of vodka set out in the middle of said table.

“Compliments of the manager, sir,” the smaller vampire said, bowing once more with a flourish. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

A small wicked grin crossed Angelus’ lips before he replied. “Send Riley in to see us.”

A small sparkle lit the smaller vampire’s eyes. “Certainly.”

Buffy allow herself to sink into one of the plush couches and let the tension in her limbs begin to ease. She could handle this—here they were hidden away from the rest of the world as they had been at the mansion. The pulsing beat of the music still seeped through the thick barrier of the curtain but it was muffled, as were the scents that had mingled in the air and taunted her demon. She could still feel it stirring beneath her skin, pushing to be allowed out, but here she had more control over it.

She heard the click of Spike’s lighter beside her as he lit up a cigarette and allowed the sweet, stale scent of his smoke to wash over her. He lent forward and threw the rest of the pack onto the table before picking up the vodka and pouring himself a shot.

“Want one, pet?” He asked, glancing at her over his shoulder.

Technically she was only nineteen and not of legal age to drink. She’d had alcoholic drinks before—beer with her friends and at parties, and wine or champagne at weddings and birthdays—but her tolerance of alcohol was non-existent at best. The last thing she wanted to do was get drunk and embarrass her family.

She started to say no when the curtain separating the room was pushed back and a tall man walked in. He was human—tall and broad shouldered like her sire—with sandy blonde hair, green eyes and the type of face that seemed too nice for a place like this. He seemed out of place, like he had wandered in off the street only to ask for directions and found himself in a whole different world.

“Riley, come in. I’d like you to meet Buffy.” Angelus’ large hand came down on one of the man’s shoulders in a manner that suggested that they had met before. The action drew her attention to the man’s neck—it was littered with old and healing scars.

A goofy smile spread across Riley’s face as he held his hand out to her. “It’s great to meet you, Buffy.”

Buffy smiled and accepted his hand. She could feel the pulse echoing through his hand and into her body. Her demon moaned in ecstasy.

Angelus’ smiled knowingly at her. “Buffy, I’d like you to meet Riley Finn. He’s a donor here at the club.”

A donor? She smiled at them like she understood and nodded gently. Spike smirked at her.

“He works here at the club, kitten. People pay him for his blood. I’m guessin’ that tonight he’s your dinner.”

Buffy’s eyes went wide with shock as her gaze flicked between her sire and the human standing before her. “My dinner?” She swallowed heavily and let her eyes settle on Angelus. “Sire, you know I…I can’t even drink it from a cup properly yet!”

Angelus smiled and clapped Riley on the back, motioning for him to take a seat beside his childe. Buffy scooted out of his reach.

“You need to learn to feed, childe. It is a basic and essential part of being a vampire and tonight you are going to learn with the help of Riley.”

Oh God. “Oh God!” Her eyes shot to Spike. “Pour me one.”

Spike smiled and handed her the shot he had poured. Buffy raised her arm and knocked it back in one go. She closed her eyes as she let it burn its way down her throat. She shuddered delicately as she felt it settle in her stomach. No good. She could still see straight.

Spike was smiling at her. “Good?”

Buffy nodded and held her arm out for another one. Dutch courage.

Spike refilled the small glass and she brought it to her mouth again and knocked back her second. A warm fuzzy feeling began to spread over her as she pushed the shot glass into Spike’s hands. Much better.

“I have to do this don’t I?” she asked with a slight whine in her voice. Angelus nodded. “How am I meant to do this?” she managed to get out through her rapidly clouding mind.

“Any way you’re comfortable with,” Angelus replied, sinking down beside his sire. Darla curled herself into his side with a smile. Dru had stretched herself out along the couch and had her head in Angelus’ lap; she was humming softly to herself but her eyes were fixed on Buffy.

I have an audience.

Buffy let her head swivel slowly to look at Riley as he stripped his jumper off and settled back into the couch. The alcohol was going to her head faster than expected. She took a deep shaky breath.

“I just bite him?” she asked tearing her eyes away from the mortal to look up at her sire again.

“Mmm, anywhere you’d like,” Darla purred. The tone of her voice made Buffy feel uncomfortable.

Buffy turned back to look at the man beside her. Bringing her hand up slowly, Buffy clutched the collar of his shirt and manoeuvred herself closer to him. Her demon had already slipped onto her face. Her other hand came to rest against his chest over his heart where she could feel his pulse vibrating though her body.

She pushed Riley into the back of the couch as she leaned over him. She was going to do it. She was really going to bite someone.

Buffy’s tongue darted out to run along the length of his neck. She could feel the blood rushing beneath the surface of his skin; the pounding of his pulse filled her mouth. She let out a small growl as her jaw widened around Riley’s neck. He gave a whimper of need as he waited for her bite. He wanted this. He really wanted this. This man came here regularly to give blood to keep her species alive. He was not her victim, and never would be. Her hesitation lasted only a second, Buffy let her teeth sink down into the column of his neck as she came to peace with the idea that this was something he wanted—something that they both wanted and she was in no way forcing something unwanted upon him as had been done to her by Penn.

She felt her teeth break through the unresisting skin as his rich blood bloomed into her mouth.



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AN: Sorry for the delay in updating this chapter, i'm going away for a little over a week in the first week of December and have been busy making preparations. The next chapter most likely won't be posted until i get back on the 10. Thank you so much to everyone who has been reviewing :D I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and thank you to Andrea for the speedy read through ;)

Chapter 9



The taste of Riley’s blood could only be described as ecstasy to her senses. It was more than just the metallic taste Buffy had known as a human and more than the dead taste of the little animal blood she had been able to keep down since her turning. This blood was alive, it had emotions in it…she was taking more than the blood he offered, she was almost absorbing a piece of his being into her own. But like everything else in this new world, for all its seduction and charm she could feel a darkness stirring beneath the surface—a darkness that whispered for her to take it all.

Riley moaned underneath her as his hands clasped at her hips taking pleasure in what her bite could bring him. It was too much, she felt too close to him—too intimate. The degrading act she had seen the couple engaging in earlier suddenly seemed less obscene that what she was currently participating in. This man was a stranger to her, yet she felt she was sharing something with him that she had never dreamt of sharing with anyone.

Buffy pulled back from Riley, pushing herself forcefully out of his grasp when he tried to hang onto her. He groaned and reached out for her, his hand closing around her wrist in a punishing grip. She saw it then—the addiction. His eyes were glazed and mindless with the desperation to return her fangs to their sheath in his neck. Looking into his eyes, Buffy could see the craving he had for the feel of it—craving that went so deep that it became an imbedded need that he could no longer control even if he had wanted to.

“Let go,” Buffy said, calmly masking the panic that was beginning to rise within her.

Riley shook his head as if trying to clear it. Sweat had begun to bead on his face “I-I need…please! Just come back…please.”

Buffy forcefully ripped her wrist out of his hands. “No.”

Riley slumped back into the chair once she was out of his reach. His head lolled to the side to stare at Spike. “Please…”

Buffy saw Dru swoop in from beside her only to be restrained by her sire’s hand.

“How long?” Angelus asked with a growl. Dru whimpered in his grasp and tried to wriggle free, the smell of fresh blood too much of a temptation to her senses.

Riley turned to look at Angelus. “Let her go…I want it. Please, I need it.”

Angelus shook his head and shoved Drusilla into Darla’s capable arms. “You’ve got an addiction, Riley, you know it’s illegal for us to knowingly feed that addiction.”

Riley shook his head rapidly. “No. No, I don’t have an addiction. I swear, so just—please.”

His focus turned to Buffy again as he lunged for her. Spike growled and leapt to pull her back out of the human’s grasp.

“You need help, mate,” Spike said simply.

“Get the manager, Spike,” Angelus said as he held his hand out to Buffy. She quickly made her way to her sire’s side as Spike slipped back out through the curtain.

“Are they all like this?” Buffy asked warily as she watched Riley moan and slide down in his seat. His skin was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and his eyes were slow and glassy.

“No, not all humans have this reaction. Only some of them become addicted to being bitten,” Darla replied.

“He looked so normal when he came in though,” Buffy said softly.

“Most of them do, it is amazing what addiction can drive a human to do.” Buffy turned to the direction of the voice and watched as a figure detached itself from the darkness of the room—tall, dark, handsome and deadly rolled into one tight package. He gave her a slow smile that had her skin shivering as if visibly caressed. “Angelus and his bitches,” the voice continued from the shadows.

She could feel the power rolling off the vampire in waves. This one was much older than most of the vampires she had encountered so far…perhaps even older than Darla. Yet her sire didn’t seem to be worried by his presence.

“Christian,” Angelus greeted simply.

The vampire in question nodded in acknowledgment. “I see one more has been added to your little group since we last met, Angelus. Won’t you introduce us?”

Buffy looked to her sire but his attention was focused on the vampire before them. Their conversation was interrupted as the curtain was pushed back once more and Spike walked back through with a small greasy looking man in tow.

“What the bloody hell is he doing here?” Spike growled as he marched his way across the room to stand beside his family.

“Willy,” Angelus greeted as he detached himself from Buffy’s side to greet the human.

“Angelus, long time no see.” Buffy watched as the man’s hands jumped to the knot of his tie that was fastened around his throat, before trailing down its length and delving into the pockets of his pants as he rocked back on his heels. He was still only for a moment before starting the routine again. Nervous twitch? Perhaps working with vampires for so long had taken its toll on his nerves.

“He’s over here,” Angelus noted, leading the manager over to the slumped form on the couch.

“Again, what the bloody hell is this git doing in here?” Spike asked, gesturing to the dark vampire that still stood in their private room.

“Spike, I was wondering where you had gotten to,” Christian said pleasantly with a grin too friendly to be believable. Spike snarled at him. Christian turned his attention to Buffy once more. “I’m Christian.”

Buffy looked down at the hand he held out to her. Palm turned up instead of sideways. Buffy looked to her sire but his attention was focused on the club’s manager.

Hesitantly she placed her palm in his. He smiled wickedly at her as he tugged her forward and leant forward to kiss the back of her hand.

“Charmed,” Christian grinned at her.

Buffy fought the urge to fidget in his grasp. It wasn’t that she found the act disgusting, rather it was the tension she could feel radiating off the rest of her family due to his presence. He gave off the distinct sense of danger in waves, great crashing waves that threatened to overwhelm her. She sent a look back over her shoulder for help.

“Do I get a name?” Christian asked as he straightened up again. Buffy gave him a nervous smile and discreetly tried to pull back. He countered her step back with his own step forward.

“Buffy,” she said softly. She felt a hand curl around her own and tug her back from the vampire before her. She smiled gratefully up at Spike as he curled his arm possessively around her waist.

“Christian is his clan’s PR person, you might say,” Darla noted as she circled her way towards them. “You see, Buffy, most Clan Leaders don’t leave their base often, so they have people like Christian here, who do all the necessary publicity work: recruiting, rule enforcing, making sure their clan’s face remains untarnished…charming the enemy where necessary.”

Darla let the last point hang, as she smiled sweetly at Christian. He smiled back at her with a look that didn’t refute what she had said. “Sometimes the best way to get information from the enemy is to sleep with them. That’s Christian’s job.”

Christian chuckled. “You’re hardly one to throw stones. I remember a time when you were in a position not unlike my own.”

“I was never ashamed of it either. I’m merely fulfilling my duty as head of the family by informing our youngest member exactly who you are and what you do.” Her voice was as sickly sweet as always as she came to place her hand delicately on Buffy’s shoulder.

“And here I thought it was Angelus that ran the family, nowadays. Talk is you let you own childe rule over you.”

Darla smirked at Christian as Angelus came up to stand beside her. Two men came in and helped carry Riley’s now unconscious body out without fanfare until they were left alone once more.

Angelus curled his hands around Darla’s slim hips and pulled her roughly back into his body. “Nobody but the Master rules me, Angelus knows that. Let people think what they would like about this supposed show of weakness.”

“You taint your clan’s image,” Christian sneered at them.

Spike growled. Angelus held his hand up to quiet his childe—they would not be seen throwing the first punch.

Darla let the comment slide. “So tell me, Christian, were you just sent here to try and taunt us, or is there purpose to this visit?”

Christian grinned at her. “Just introducing myself to Buffy, it has been an age since you’ve added a fledgling to the Order. She must be special,” he said pleasantly and with as much charm as ever.

“That she is, very special,” Angelus said evenly.

Christian’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Praise from the almighty Angelus! Will wonders never cease?” he said with no small amount of sarcasm.

Angelus grinned at him. “Indeed, I am still amazed that you have the capacity to string a sentence together.”

Christian chuckled falsely “You’re funny.”

“Thank you,” Angelus replied with a wicked smirk.

Buffy stood watching them send barbs back and forth. She was getting a headache. Too much had happened in such a small span of time. She was still trying to cope with the fact that she had bitten someone and enjoyed it. That truly made her a monster didn’t it? Despite the fact that she was resolved never to do it again because of the unwanted level of intimacy that was involved with it. Then there was the shock of Riley’s addiction. That had been something she never wanted to see ever again. Now this.

It was more than obvious even to Buffy that Christian had been sent here to size her up. Angelus’ words from earlier in the evening about becoming a target now that she was a member of the Order came roaring back. Did this mean that she was doomed to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder?

“Get out of here, Christian. You’ve seen, you’ve taunted, now run back to your master and report your findings like a good flunky,” Spike growled above her snapping her attention back to the present.

Christian smirked at Spike and gave him a mock bow. “As always it has been less than pleasant talking to you all.”

Buffy let out a deep sigh once they were alone again. Her head was still cloudy with the shots of vodka she had taken earlier, her body still unaccustomed to the effects of alcohol on her system. She made her way over to the couch and flopped down onto it. Spike moved over to sit down beside her and she let her head fall down onto his shoulder.

“So, is it always this much fun when you guys go out?”


*****


You could most certainly have a hang over as a vampire. At least that’s what Buffy thought the splitting headache and painful throbbing in her head was. It felt like someone had cracked her skull open with a chisel and was in the process of pouring fiery hot molten lava into the recesses of her brain.

She picked up the ice pack and held it to her head as her other hand reached out for the cup of coffee she had sitting on the desk she had claimed in the mansion’s library. Books were spread out all around her as she searched for any references to the names Simone or Silas.

So far she had drawn a blank. There was nothing in any of these books mentioning anything on Simone before her rein as Clan Leader let alone Silas, her so-called sire. It would be so much easier if vampires had last names.

What she really wanted to know was how Simone came to be leader of a clan if she was turned by someone not only outside of the Aurelian Clan but also by someone who wasn’t considered an Aurelian proper. Shouldn’t she have been nothing more than a minion? But then she had undergone an Embracement just as Buffy had, so maybe her Aurelian sire was part of the Order?

What she needed was more information on Silas. All she had to go by was a name and a hazy memory left from the dream she had after her Embracement. She closed the book she was skimming through with a thud, before wincing at the volume of the sound. Buffy had no idea how she was going to dig up more information on Silas, after all he was dead and she had the feeling that he was a taboo subject around those who knew of his existence.

The doors to the library opened silently as Spike slipped in. He watched Buffy sitting at the table for a moment before moving noiselessly across the floor to stand behind her.

“You’re thinking so hard I can almost see the wheels turning in your head.”

Buffy jumped at the voice which suddenly rang out in an otherwise deserted library. She had been so lost in thought she hadn’t felt the tingles at the base of her spine that announced another’s presence.

“Spike!”

He chuckled as he pulled out the chair beside hers and sat backwards on it.

Buffy shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t want him here with her—she didn’t want anyone here with her—it was why she had waited until the daylight hours to come down here. Somehow she didn’t want anyone discovering she was trying to find out everything she could on the elusive Simone.

“What are you doing down here?” The sound of Spike’s voice made her look up at him again.

Buffy worried her lower lip nervously for a moment, before smiling brightly at him. “Just looking through some of the books that are kept down here, some of them are really old!”

“You should be resting. It’s still early morning.”

Buffy sighed. He wasn’t going to press the issue. Somehow she didn’t think that was why he was down here with her anyway. “I could say the same for you.”

“You need to be careful of Christian,” Spike said as though it was a natural progression in the conversation. Buffy frowned at the sudden subject change. “Darla is right, if he wants information he will try and seduce it out of you and he had his sights set on you last night.”

“Spike, he screamed ‘bad guy’. I don’t need super vamp sense to tell me that. He’s not going to seduce me,” Buffy replied, with a small smile.

Spike gave her a disbelieving look. “You can’t tell me that you didn’t find Mr. Tall, Dark and Mysterious attractive.”

“I’m not going to lie to you. Christian is attractive, but just because I find someone attractive doesn’t mean I’m going to jump their bones at the first chance the opportunity is presented.” Buffy stood up with the book she had been reading in her hands so she could return it to the stacks.

“Is that so?”

She could feel him behind her. Close enough that she could almost feel the whisper of his touch against her skin.

Buffy nodded without turning around. “Well, it’s not all about attraction, is it?”

“No, I guess not,” Spike replied quietly. Buffy smiled and turned to face him. He brushed her hair back from her face and brought his face down to hers. He let his lips hover over hers for a moment, giving her an out if she wanted one. He felt her fingers curl around his upper arm and slide up towards his neck.

“I’m glad we got that cleared up,” she said before closing the remaining distance between them.

Buffy pressed herself up against Spike as they kissed. Her soft lips against his and his arm tight around her waist holding her to him as his other hand sat lightly at the base of her head, tangled in the golden strands of her hair.

“Christian doesn’t have a chance,” Buffy mumbled as she pulled back. Spike let out a small murmur of agreement before pulling her back to him again to the sound of her giggles.



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AN: Much thanks to Andrea for beta'ing this for me. I hope everyone had a wonderful and safe holiday. I know it has been a long time but let me know what you think . Thank you also to everyone who has reviewed so far :D

Chapter 10



Christian was humming quietly to himself as he made his way through the house from where his Clan was currently operating. Things with the Aurelians had gone better than expected. She was it. No more waiting. He had spent almost his entire existence working towards this moment and soon it would all be coming to an end.

He came to stop before a small door and knocked quickly before slipping inside. He stood at the top of the steps and peered down into the darkness trying to place the presence he could feel in the room.

“You’re back sooner than I had anticipated,” a voice sounded from the back of the room.

Christian looked down into the darkness from atop the steps which descended into the room and smiled as his eyes unerringly found the speaker’s form in the shadows.

“Things went smoother than expected, sire,” he replied as he jogged down the small steps and into the lower room. “As soon as I touched her, the crystal turned black.” He removed it from his pocket and placed it on the table which stood in the centre of the room.

The figure emerged from the shadows of the room as the crystal was placed on the table. He looked like the corpse his body was. Years of neglect of the simple things that would have kept his appearance youthful—like regular feeding—had sunken his features and leeched the colouring from his skin. He looked fragile—brittle, as though the slightest touch would break him in two. Yet his stance was surprisingly strong as he reached out to pick up the crystal, holding it up to the light and examining it.

It was jet black—completely opaque with the intensity of its colouring. It had an unnatural spark of life to it though as it glittered in the light cast from the flames of the candles surrounding the room.

“Finally,” the figure said as the skin around his mouth was stretched into a parody of his former smile. “We will have to be sure though; nothing can be allowed to go wrong. Not when I am so close.”

His gaze snapped from the crystal to look at Christian. “We will, of course, need the appropriate proof to claim her as one of our own.”

Christian frowned slightly. “The mother?”

“You marked her, correct?”

“Yes, but the claim I placed on her was from when we believed her to be the one we sought. The claim of ownership has gone without renewal since the initial marking. It will be weak, almost non-existent.”

The figure was silent as he gazed once more at the crystal he still held in his hands. “Pay Joyce a visit. Make sure your claim is still in place, then we will meet with the Aurelians and take what’s rightfully ours.”


*****


She was concentrating on keeping her breathing even, her mind blank, and her movements slow and controlled as she mimicked those of her sire. She didn’t need to look at him to make sure she was in time, she could sense every movement his body made beside hers.

The room was hot, almost stiflingly so, but she felt disconnected from the heat. She felt disconnected from everything as she ‘fought in slow motion’ as Spike liked to call it. It was part of her training. Being able to control the movement was as important as knowing the moves. You had to learn be able to disconnect yourself from everything and not let your emotions rule your actions. She had felt stupid learning Tai Chi with her sire, but now she found the slow controlled movements soothing, easily finding the natural trance she always slipped into, a place for her to escape.

Buffy smiled as arms slid around her waist and lips descended onto the satin of her throat. She giggled as he bit into her playfully with human teeth and broke her concentration.

“Spike, I’m trying to learn how to fight here,” she murmured, even as her head naturally fell to the side to allow him access to her neck.

“Piss off, childe,” Angelus growled

“Never, Sire. Annoying you is far too much fun,” Spike grinned back at him.

Angelus dropped his hands and turned to look at his childer, aware of but not surprised by their close contact. Spike’s stance behind Buffy was possessive, even to the ignorant observer. One hand was banded tightly around her waist from behind, the other was resting on her hip holding her in contact with him, and his head lowered slightly so that his cheek was touching the side of her temple. Buffy’s hand rested comfortably over the arm around her waist and her head was inclined ever so slightly, touching Spike’s. She was smiling, a sight that was rarely seen on the young vampiress.

Their positioning alone suggested something more than a close friendship; it was only a question of how much more?

“Oh God, I forgot! I’m meant to be meeting my sister tonight,” Buffy said, quickly disentangling herself from Spike’s arms. She smiled up at him as she darted up to plant a quick kiss on his lips. His hand quickly moved up to hold her head to his as he attempted to deepen the kiss. “I have to go,” she said against his lips.

He pressed another kiss to her lips before reluctantly releasing her. She smiled at him as he pulled back before waving to both of them as she quickly made her way out the door.

Angelus watched her go before turning to Spike. “You two are close.”

Spike frowned. “Yeah, what of it?”

“Don’t tell me she is just another conquest, Spike,” Angelus said seriously. “Buffy is not that type of girl.”

“She’s not,” Spike said with a pause as he contemplated how much he was willing to tell his sire. “I plan on making that woman my mate, Peaches.”

Angelus didn’t make any attempt to hide the surprise that registered on his face. “Your mate? Don’t you think—?”

“Don’t try and talk me out of this. You had yourself mated to Darla barely two minutes out of your grave and before you even knew what a mating was,” Spike said accusingly as he felt his temper start to rise.

Angelus chuckled. “I wasn’t trying to talk you out of anything. I was just going to suggest that maybe you should talk to her about this before you make any decisions. You can’t force someone to mate with you.”

Spike looked outraged at the suggestion. “I wouldn’t try.”

“I know,” Angelus answered with a smirk.


*****


She couldn’t remember what had possessed her to make the decision. Why on earth had she decided to uproot her family and move them across the state to live in a little nobody town called Sunnydale? Why Sunnydale? Surely her children would be safer in Sunnydale then LA right? LA where they had lived almost all of their lives. LA where they knew where to go and where to stay away from. LA where the vampire population stuck to one side of the city, away from the area in which they lived. LA where her ex-husband lived. Ah, that was it. That was the reason she had made the move to Sunnydale. It was all Hank’s fault. Wasn’t it always though? Who would have thought that such a sleepy looking town would be home to not only a Hellmouth of all things, but also home to more than one ancient vampire clan?

Joyce let out a bitter laugh, allowing the half empty bottle of amber liquid that she had been using to numb the pain slip out of her hands and onto the floor.

The knock on the front door was loud in the silent house. Joyce moaned and rolled further into the couch hoping Dawn would come down from her room and answer it. Dawn is not home, though, is she? Rolling herself to her feet, Joyce stumbled her way through the house to the front door and flung it open.

“Yes?”

“Hello, Joyce.”

Joyce stared blankly at the man—vampire—before her. Memories of his punishing grip as his fangs sank into the skin of her neck racing through her head. He hadn’t aged a day—he was still the almost sinfully good looking man she had met at a club when she was barely 17. The man who had offered to walk her home so she didn’t have to walk alone in the dark. The man who had laughed and joked with her right up until the moment he turned on her. The man who had haunted her nightmares for years afterwards.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in, Joycie?” Christian asked with a hint of amusement in his voice that put Joyce on edge.

“Don’t call me that!” Joyce spat out, suddenly completely sobered.

“Not going by that name anymore?”

She ignored his teasing question. “Vampire’s can’t enter your home unless they are invited.”

Christian let a slow smile slide across his face. “True. But it would be in your best interests to invite me inside. Or should I say your daughter’s best interests.”

She wasn’t naive enough to believe that anything as simple as the law would stop him from harming her daughter if he really wanted to. Images of her last remaining daughter broken and bloodless flashed through her mind. “What have you done?”

Christian smiled brilliantly at her “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. So, do I get an invite?”

Torn between her own safety and that of her daughter’s she found herself stepping back to hold the door open wider.

“You need to speak the words, Joycie”

“Come in,” she managed to push past the knot in her throat. The vampire smiled cheerfully at her and stepped over the threshold. “What have you done to Dawn?”

“Dawn?” Christian asked with a small frown. “I have no intentions of harming your youngest child, Joycie. It is the eldest Miss Summers about whom I was referring.”

Joyce gave a bitter laugh at the reference to Buffy. “Buffy? What more could you possibly do to her? Kill her? She is already dead. Why bother turning her in the first place if you only intend to kill her now?”

“Turn her? You’re must be mistaken, I had nothing to do with Buffy’s turning.”

Joyce’s hand flew to trace the scar on her neck. “But—”

“But, indeed. My mark dictates that you and your kin are my property. Now, either my mark has faded into non-existence,” Joyce shook her head and backed up as he began to advance on her, “or it has faded enough to release its hold over your kin. No one except me should have been able to touch either of your daughters.”

Joyce felt her back hit the wall behind her. “I didn’t do anything to it, I have touched it.”

Christian smiled at her and reached out to run his fingers down the length of her neck, lingering over the raised flesh of her scars.

“Please don’t,” she whimpered as his face morphed into his demon’s countenance.

Christian leant down, darting his tongue out to run along the puckered bite mark. Joyce whimpered beneath him, pushing at his shoulders as she fought to dislodge him from her. A strangled cry left her throat as she felt his teeth break through the unresisting skin of her neck.

Christian took three long pulls of her blood before pulling back and sealing the wound again. The claim was still there, extending to both her and her family, but it was weak. Weak enough that a drunken Penn would have missed it—ignored it even. Is that what had happened? Had he ignored it as way of retribution against Christian for the murder of his mate?

Christian looked down at the body that had gone limp in his arms. Joyce had passed out the moment his fangs had exited her throat. He moved her carefully to lie on the couch once more, carefully navigating his way through the multitudes of bottles that littered the room.

He made sure the wounds on her neck were closed once again before straightening up and letting himself out of the house.


*****


Buffy didn’t sense them as she walked into the small all night café. So used to the feeling of so many vampires constantly around her, she didn’t realise until it was too late that she was surrounded. The first one attacked from behind and she heard her sister scream out to her as a heavily booted foot slammed into her lower back. Buffy fell to her knees but recovered quickly as she spun around to face her attacker.

Taking a deep breath, she fought to remember what she had been doing just that morning. She quickly glanced around her—there were five of them. Pity her training had only covered handling one attacker. She couldn’t take on five at once.

Dodging the next attack that was thrown at her she saw the break she need and took it. Ducking under his arm she bolted for the door.

She had taken three steps before she felt tight arms band around her waist. “Gotcha, sweetheart.”

“I’m not your sweetheart,” was her reply as she threw her head backwards, connecting with the other vampire’s skull with a loud crack. His arms loosened slightly and she took the opportunity to stomp her foot down onto the arch of his foot.

He yelled out in pain and dropped his arms in reflex. She shook him off and ran for the door. Her head felt dizzy from the blow she given herself trying to fend him off but she made it out onto the street with relative ease.

The four remaining vampires were hot on her heels. She knew her only choice was to try and out run them. Taking off down the street, she picked up one of the chairs outside the café and threw it back into them, hoping to buy herself sometime.

The vampire in the lead growled and let his demon burst over his features as he threw the chair out of his way. Buffy didn’t pause to see what the remaining vampires did with it as she continued to sprint down the street. She needed to get back to the mansion and fast.

Buffy skidded to a stop as a car screeched to a halt beside her. The passenger door was flung open and a small head looked out at her from the driver’s seat.

“Get in!” Dawn yelled. Buffy had never been so glad to see her sister.

She ran across to the car and got in, slamming the door shut after her as Dawn pulled out from the curve.

“Since when have you been able to drive? Since when did mom let you even go for your license?” Buffy asked as she looked out the passenger window at the four figures that were gradually getting smaller as they pulled away from them.

“Since she is too busy lolling around drunk on the couch to drive me anywhere. She’s been a mess since you’ve been gone,” Dawn replied seriously. “Where are we going?”

Buffy frowned and settled back into her seat. “To the Aurelius Mansion.”



AN: Thank to everyone who has left me a review so far :D I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Big thanks to Andrea for bta'ing this for me :D

Chapter 11



They hadn’t been on the road more than a few minutes—a few peaceful minutes that had allowed their adrenaline levels to calm—before all hell had broken loose.

Buffy’s perceptive hearing had picked up the sound of acceleration, but it was her paranoia that driven her to poke her head around the seat to stare out the back window.

“Oh shit!” Buffy exclaimed. Her eyes, fixed on a point somewhere out the back window of the car, were wide and terrified.

“What? What is it?” Dawn asked as her eyes immediately went to the rear view mirror to see what it was her sister had seen. For a moment she was confused, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Dawn frowned and went to ask her sister what she had seen when the sound of heavy acceleration cut her off mid speech. Her eyes darted back to the mirror in time to see a car pull out into the traffic behind them and rapidly begin approaching.

For a second they had remained frozen as they watched the car gaining on them until it was close enough for Buffy to see the face of the driver pursuing them. She felt her heart clench at the sight of the ridges and yellowed eyes belonging to the driver. It was all she needed to see in order to kick her back into action. Instinct took over as she swivelled in her seat again.

“GO!” Buffy yelled. The car lurched forward from the sudden burst of power as Dawn responded to her sister’s command by slamming her foot down on the accelerator.

Dawn’s knuckles were white due to the strength with which she was gripping the steering wheel. Her foot was flat to the floor and her eyes wide as they tore through the streets of Sunnydale, narrowly missing traffic in their haste to lose those pursuing them.

Buffy tried to swallow the scream that threatened to rise in her throat as her sister weaved through the traffic. Cars of all colours were flashing past on either side as Dawn narrowly escaped hitting them.

“Oh my God,” Dawn breathed as she lent forward in her seat in an effort to see more of the road. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my—”

“Dawn!” Buffy snapped, cutting off her sister’s incessant ramblings.

“Are we losing them?” Dawn asked without apologising as she jerked the steering wheel to the right, practically pushing the vehicle beside them off the road as she fought to avoid hitting the car in front of them. Buffy gripped the seat as the sudden movement threatened to send her careening into the glass. Her hand shot out to brace herself against the dash board in an attempt to stop herself from being thrown around.

“No, they’re gaining on us!” Buffy answered after chancing a quick glance behind them, torn between keeping her eye on the road before them and swivelling around in her seat to peer out the back window.

“We have to get away from all this traffic!” Dawn yelled as her eyes furiously searched for the next gap.

“What? The traffic is the only thing keeping them from catching up!” Buffy argued.

“Well, it’s not going to matter how close they get if we get ourselves killed! I can’t keep this up, Buffy!” Dawn argued back. The tone of her voice had passed the stage of hysterical.

Buffy worried her bottom lip between her teeth as she looked between her sister and the rapidly approaching car behind them. “Well, where do you suggest we go?”

Dawn didn’t answer verbally. Instead she tore her eyes away from the road in front of her long enough to check for the nearest turn off. Buffy’s scream joined that of Dawn’s as her sister saw the gap she needed and jerked the wheel in that direction sending them flying across two lanes of traffic to hurtle down the darkened street onto which they had turned.

“Are you insane?” Buffy screamed, turning wide eyes on her sister.

“Don’t yell at me!” Dawn growled back as she navigated her way down the deserted road.

“You almost got us killed!” Buffy shrieked incredulously.

Dawn shot her sister a furious glare. “We’ll I wouldn’t have if they hadn’t been chasing you in the first place!”

The two sisters sat in a tense silence both unwilling to relent.

“Are they still following us?” Dawn asked tersely after a moment.

Buffy shot her a glare but turned to check the road behind them. The street behind them was dark and empty—no street lights illuminated its path. She vamped and tried stretched out her senses to try as pick something up—nothing, they had lost them for now.

“I can’t pick anything up,” Buffy said, turning back to face the front again. “I think we—DAWN! Look out!” Buffy screamed as her enhanced senses picked up the outline of a man standing before them, just out of reach of the car’s headlights. They were travelling too fast to avoid hitting him. By the time Dawn had responded to Buffy’s warning, they were already 10 metres from him and closing.

Both sisters screamed as Dawn wrenched the steering wheel sideways. The car began to turn before the back tires lost their grip and the vehicle began to fishtail violently.

“Take your foot off the accelerator!” Buffy yelled. Dawn let go of the steering wheel.

The view of the outside world began to blur as the car spun wildly out of control. Buffy felt the ‘thud’ of something hard impact with the car seconds before she was thrown sideways in her seat. Her head impacted heavily with the glass, causing a spider web of cracks to appear and send her blissfully into oblivion.


*****


‘Angelus! The Occasus Clan is requesting to meet. I think something has happened.’

His sire’s words were running on a repeating loop through his head. He had known something was wrong. He had felt something shift the second before the door had been flung open to reveal a frazzled Darla. Darla was never frazzled. The Occasus Clan had not held court with the Aurelians for centuries. Something was definitely up.

‘The Occasus Clan is requesting to meet. I think something has happened.’

Was it a coincidence that they requested to meet the night after sending their lap dog to sound out Angelus’ newest childe? What was Christian up to now, or his clan for that matter? It must have been his findings upon meeting Buffy—whatever they had been—which were then reported to his leader that had been the prompt for this sudden and unexpected call to meet. What had Christian been sent to find out last night? Angelus couldn’t foresee any other motivation for their sudden interest in meeting. There were too many questions for which he needed answers.

‘I think something has happened.’

Has or will? Buffy was out with her sister—unarmed and untrained. What had he been thinking letting her go out alone?

“Any idea of what this is about?” Spike asked no one in particular.

Angelus’ head snapped up to look at him. He held his childe’s gaze. “Buffy.”

No one word could have had a greater effect. Everything in the younger vampire seemed to still. It was more than simply a cessation of motion, but an utter stillness that no human could ever hope to achieve. Something dark flickered behind the blonde vampire’s eyes, and for the first time Angelus saw the vampire that Spike was capable of becoming with enough freedom and the right motivation—something dark, something vicious and more importantly something unstoppable that was driven by pure emotion.

“Buffy,” Spike repeated, not shifting his eyes from those of his sire. “What are you thinking?”

“It’s has to be more that just coincidence that the Occasus Clan want to meet with us now. The night after Christian’s little encounter with us at Requiem,” Angelus answered.

Spike growled, “Buffy’s out there alone.”

A firm hand on his arm stopped Spike as he went to stand. Spike looked down at his sire.

Angelus shook his head. “We are needed here. I will send out a team to track her down and make sure she gets home safely. I doubt that Christian or any of his flunkies would attack yet. She should be safe until after the meeting is over.”

For a moment it seemed that Spike would disobey his sire, wrench his arm free, and go out and look for Buffy himself. The hesitation warred in his eyes as he fought against the need to leave and his duty to his sire and clan. Spike growled again in annoyance as he settled back into his seat.

The last member of the Order was taking their seat at the long table which had been set up at the end of the hall for the purpose of the meeting, as the large set of double doors at the end of the hall swung open.

Spike tensed in anticipation as the first vampires of the Occasus Clan entered the room.

A trail of minions draped in black cloaks filed into the room in a perfect line before fanning out to create a ‘v’ along the sides of the room creating a line of defence against the selected Aurelian minions that lined the walls of the hall.

Spike snorted at their soldierlike behaviour.

Next came the members of the Order of Occasus. Spike’s eyes sought out Christian’s as he entered the room, but the vampire studiously avoided meeting the gazes of any of the vampires seated before him.

“Why is it that any time we ever want to do anything of importance it takes a bloody ritual to do it? I mean really, couldn’t they have just walked in the room and told us what they want rather than parading around in fancy robes while making fancy formations?” Spike groused, making no effort to lower his voice.

Angel growled at him. “We don’t question tradition, Spike. It is done as it has always been done.”

“Well, the ‘way it has always been done’ is taking too bloody long,” he growled back as one of his legs began to impatiently bounce up and down under the table. He was hanging onto the control over his frustration by a thread.

Spike rolled his eyes as the vampires before him simultaneous turned to face the doors and lowered their heads.

“Oh bloody fucking hell—”

“Shut up!” Angelus cut him off seconds before an almost crippling wave of power rushed out over them. His skin prickled like it wanted to crawl off his body and his eyes watered as an overwhelming weight pressed down on his chest. Spike’s hand shot out grip the table in an effort to steady himself as the wave receded again. He greedily sucked unneeded air into his lungs as he tried to fight off the crushed feeling with which the pulse of power had left him.

His eyes shot to his sire’s in panic. “What the fuck was that?”

Angelus shook his head, his eyes riveted to the figure that had appeared in the doorway at the end of the hall. Spike’s eyes followed the same path and frowned at the thin silhouette standing in the doorway.

The vampire’s power radiated throughout the room, outweighing that of even the Master’s as the vampire strode in confidently. The severity of the situation was suddenly making itself blatantly known. Spike had heard stories—stories he had believed to be no more than myth until this moment—of a vampiric status above that of Master. A status obtained not only through skill and reputation gained from high profile killings, but from age. Saying this vampire was old would be an understatement; the power exuding off of him was almost primeval. He knew now that the stories held truth—he was standing in the presence of an Ancient.

“Is that…?” Spike trailed off, looking to Angelus in question to confirm that what he was seeing was true.

“Clan Leader,” Angelus answered with a nod.

Spike shook his head. “No, anAncient.”




AN: Thanks to Andrea for the beta'ing this chapter for me *hugs* and to everyone who commented on the last chapter :D

Chapter 12



Spike didn’t pause to glance back over his shoulder as he left the mansion. He couldn’t take a car—too noisy—the Occasus Clan were bound to have minions positioned just outside the perimeter as back up. Tradition dictated that an entering clan was only allowed to bring a select number of minions into rivalling clan’s territory, unless waging a full out attack. The rule didn’t stop them from having back up close by—they would be stupid if theydidn’t. Still, it made his job harder. Angelus was going to skin him alive when he realised that Spike hadn’t just ‘stepped out’.

The tension that had lingered over the two clans throughout the formalities of the meeting had only increased as the two clans finally seated themselves around the symbolically circular table. Only the Occasus Clan hadn’t been there to discuss a peace treaty, nor a union between the clans. Buffy—they wanted her, they claimed she belonged to them. Spike’s demon was howling with rage.

He slipped down the mansion steps with all the stealth and speed that he possessed. Eyes and ears were everywhere tonight and not all of them friendly. He didn’t have time to deal with anyone who took the initiative and tried to follow him.

He stuck to the shadows and made his way around the side of the house, only stopping to avoid drawing the attention of a lazy minion. It was almost amusing, the way he effortlessly managed to slip by unnoticed. The minions that the other clan had posted around the perimeter were either grossly under-trained, or cocky enough to believe that they didn’t need to remain constantly vigilant.

Spike had already made his way halfway across the grounds when he spotted the large black limousine that had delivered their visitors. His hesitation barely lasted a second before he quickly changed course and was making his way across the gravel to the back of the car unseen. Nimble fingers slipped into his pockets and withdrew a small black gadget. Hazarding a quick glance around, he quickly secured the item to the underside of the car—far enough out of sight that it wouldn’t be discovered until it was too late.

Spike smirked and resisted the urge to chuckle as he stood once more and slunk back into the shadows out of sight. He didn’t stop again until he had cleared the mansion gates and its numerous sentries.

Spike effortlessly navigated himself down the familiar path to the car he kept outside the mansion’s gates. Running his hand lovingly over the hood of the old Desoto, Spike reached in through the driver’s side window and turned the key. A proud smirk stretched its way across his face as she roared to life under his touch. “That’s my girl.”

Quickly pulling open the door, Spike threw himself into the car and tore off into the night. “Now to find my other girl.”


*****


Angelus’ head was pounding with the implications of what the other clan was presenting to them. Buffy couldn’t belong to them—Penn wouldn’t have violated such magicks, even drunk he respected their power. If that was true though, Christian’s clan had no claim over her. He had said as much but it seemed that they had an answer for every argument that was thrown at them.

“Buffy may not have been physically marked, but her mother was,” Christian said with a smug smile as his gaze clashed with Angelus’. “I marked her myself. It is a familial claim that extends to all of Joyce’s kin and therefore to Buffy.”

“I’ve tasted Buffy’s blood—there was nothing of you in her blood. Your claim holds no power over her,” Angelus stated. And it was true. There were no traces of Christian in her blood, and no trace of the Occasian Line. She had tasted of Penn—she had even tasted like faint traces of Anna from the small part of his mate that that Penn had still held within him at the time—but nothing that linked her to their rivalling clan.

“A claim such as that only holds if Joyce was marked before Buffy’s birth.” The Aurelian Master said calmly.

“She was,” Christian said as he smiled at Angelus across the table, his challenging gaze never wavering as he refused to show the Aurelian Master the proper respect his title demanded.

Angelus’ eyes flashed dangerously. “All traces of you and whatever power you may have once held over her are gone. You will not take my childe from me. She is of Aurelian blood; would you accept such a childe into your midst? She belongs with her clan.”

“We ARE her clan!” The Ancient’s anger was an almost tangible force in the room, his power spreading outwards as his anger grew. “It has been done before! Who are you to say it cannot be done again? Does your clan not have a history of accepting a childer of tainted blood into your midst? One who you even deemed worthy enough to become Clan Leader at a later date?”

Silence rung throughout the room following the outburst.

“Surely you do not talk of Simone?” The Aurelian Master asked after a moment’s pause. No one answered.

“I will never let you take her, she is not yours to take,” Angelus growled, his demon bursting onto his features in his anger.

“You have no choice; the scars on her mother’s neck speak differently. The claim still stands and you are not only bound by ancient magicks but also by law to release her into our care. Buffy is ours,” the Ancient spat at him in annoyance. His eyes were glimmering with something more than just suppressed rage—there was a madness behind them that hadn’t shown itself until this moment. There was more to the clan wanting Buffy than just asserting their claim over her mother.

“She will always carry Aurelian blood. Her loyalties will always lie with our clan,” Darla spoke up from her position to the right of the Master. “What use do you have for a fledgling childe that is bound to betray you at every turn? She will never be an Occasian.”

The Ancient turned his cold stare onto her. To Darla’s credit, she didn’t flinch under his gaze as some lesser vampires would have. “A Second Turning should suffice in changing that,” he answered in a voice that matched his gaze.

The entire room froze in shock—both the Aurelian and Occasian vampires looking towards the Ancient in shock. It was common knowledge that the practice of the ritual known as a Second Turning had been banned from further practice for centuries. The Aurelian Master stood so quickly that his chair toppled over behind him. He pushed himself up to tower over the table in anger—the first sign of emotion that he had shown all night. The Ancient rose to meet him.

“That ritual has been dormant for centuries!” The Master snarled.

“And yet you practiced its sister ritual on the childe in question not two weeks ago!” The Ancient argued back.

“Its sister ritual was not banned from practice as this ritual was!” The Master growled in incredulous anger. “You ignorant fool! You have no idea of the lasting effects that it can cause! Have you not read any of the chronicles on it? You risk far more than just killing her.”

An almost predatory calm washed over the Occasian leader as he settled himself quietly back into his seat at the table. “I believe that detail will be rectified in a matter of days.”

The Master snarled in righteous anger. “Damn the laws and you ancient magicks! I will not let you take her, only to subject her to this archaic ritual.”

“It is too late for that, my friend. This meeting was merely a formality, nothing more. My minions are out there hunting her at this very moment.” The Ancient smirked at the look of outrage that flashed across the Aurelian’s face. “One fledgling against five of my most loyal minions? I don’t see her giving them much of a run for their money, do you?”


*****


Spike felt fear grip him as he pulled up at the crash site Buffy’s scent had lead him to. He could smell blood everywhere. He could smell her blood everywhere. He switched off the engine of the Desoto in a daze as he stared out at the mess before him. What had they been doing driving down this road anyway?

As he got out of his car, his eyes darted to the elderly man lying in the middle of the road. The pallor of his skin and the twin holes in his neck told him he was dead—though he had been dead before he was drained. Spike’s eyes gravitated to the skid marks that seemed burned into the road and suddenly he knew what had happened. His eyes traced the skid marks from the road down into the ditch where the car had wrapped itself around the base of a large tree.

His feet carried him half way over to it before he had even realised he was running. He knew Buffy wasn’t there before he got to it—he couldn’t sense her anywhere near the crash site—yet he still felt his heart drop when he reached the car and she wasn’t inside. Someone else had beaten him to it.

Spike’s eyes were drawn to the young girl in the driver’s seat. She smelt familiar, she smelt of Buffy. “Dawn?”

The girl didn’t stir as he called her name. Spike frowned and crawled into the car so he could reach her. “Dawn? Dawn, wake up!”

His fingers ghosted over the dark bruising on her forehead and the gash that ran almost the length of her face from where she had been thrown sideways and her head had connected with the driver’s side window. Lacerations littered her arms and torso—presumably caused from the windshield glass that was now strewn about the front seat and floor.

“Dawn? Nibblet!”

He fumbled to unclasp her seat belt—the only thing that most likely prevented her from flying through the windshield on impact—and pulled her gently from the car. She moaned in his arms as he gently laid her out on the road and checked her over for any further injuries.

He ran his hands over her body impersonally as he checked for broken bones and internal bleeding. Apart from the cuts and bruising she seemed to have escaped unharmed. Spike looked across at the angle at which the car had curled itself around the tree. How fast had they been driving? She was lucky to escape as unharmed as she had.

The indentation in the passenger side window told him Buffy may not have been so lucky.

Don’t think about that. Spike shook his head to clear his thoughts as he turned back to the girl stretched out in front of him. Buffy would never forgive him if he let anything happen to her sister. Not that he had any intentions of leaving her, but her continued unresponsiveness was worrying. He had no idea how to treat humans—everything about them was so fragile, so mortal.

“Dawn? Can you hear me?”

A small moan escaped her lips. That’s what he wanted, a response. Everything would be okay if he could just get her to wake up.

“Buffy?”

Her eyelids fluttered open to look up at him through bleary eyes. Spike let out sigh of relief. Dawn frowned at him in confusion for a split second before wincing at the pain it caused the cut that ran from her temple and down the side of her face.

Her hand instinctively came up to touch her head, panic washing away the confusion on her face as her fingers came away covered in blood. “Oh my god! I’m bleeding!”

“Shit!” Spike mumbled as he reached out to calm the panicking teen “Dawn! You’re going to be okay. You were in a car crash and you cut your head pretty badly,” he said as he gently took hold of her wrists and pulled her hands away from her face.

She struggled against him for a moment as panic gripped her. “I’m bleeding! I’m gonna die!”

“Dawn!” Her eyes snapped to his. “You’re not going to die, okay? Your head got pretty knocked up in the accident, but you’re fine. I promise you.”

She nodded numbly as she stared at him. Slowly he let go of her hands and let out a breath as she lowered them gently into her lap.

“Who the hell are you?” She said as it finally sunk in that she had no idea who the man hovering over her prone form was.

Spike looked at her for a moment unsure what to tell her. He gave her a weary smile as he helped her to sit up, “I’m your sister’s boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend? Buffy has a—Oh my God! Buffy! Where is she?” Dawn gripped Spike’s arm as she tried to spin around to look at what was left of the wreck that was once her car. “They got her! They were after us and they got her!”

“Shh, Dawn, I’ll get her back. I promise.” He watched as the teen burst into tears and started to struggle with her breathing. Her eyes were wide as she fought to draw air. She was wheezing with each intake of breath and clutching her chest as her breaths came in small shallow pulls. “Dawn?” Dawn you have to calm down. Take deep slow breaths of air—watch me.” He demonstrated taking a slow breath in through his nose before releasing it through his mouth. “Think you can do that?”

Dawn nodded erratically and started trying to imitate his breathing. Spike was rubbing slow circles on her back as she fought to get her breathing back under control.

“Good girl,” he murmured as her breathing began to even out again. “That better?”

Dawn nodded and slumped against him. “I don’t even know your name.”

“You can call me Spike.”


AN: Thanks to Andrea for the beta :D and to everyone who has reviewed *hugs*

Chapter 13



Spike had been reluctant to head back to the mansion. There were still enough hours left of the night to be spent tracking down Buffy. She hadn’t been gone long from the crash site when he had arrived and chances were she hadn’t been taken far, but he couldn’t be out tracking down Buffy while he had Dawn with him. She needed her head cleaned up and bandaged and while he could probably drop her off at home, they weren’t that far from the mansion.

So he had bundled the teen into his car, shielding her gaze from the sight of the dead man on the road ahead of them, and turned around to head back in the direction of the mansion. He just hoped he’d be able to slip in and out again without running into Angelus.

Spike chuckled softly at the absurdity of the thought. Chances of that happening were equal to a snowball’s chance in hell.

Dawn gave Spike a curious look at the noise he made but didn’t comment. Thoughts of her sister were weighing heavily on her mind.

Silence seemed to hum through the car for almost the entirety of the drive, breaking only as Spike pulled in through the mansion’s heavy gates.

“This is where you live?” Dawn asked as she stared in awe at the estate before them.

“This is home,” Spike replied as he let the car roll to a stop before cutting the engine. Reluctantly, he opened the door and got out. On the opposite side of the car, Dawn threw the door open and climbed out too.

“This is so cool! I could totally live here!” Dawn said enthusiastically.

The comment squeezed a small smile from the blonde vampire’s lips. “Come on, pet.”

Spike could feel his sire hovering just inside the door—most likely waiting to pounce as soon as he set foot inside. The minion that was positioned at the front door bowed deeply without making eye contact as he pushed the door open for Spike and Dawn to step through.

Spike expected the punch, but what he didn’t expect was the crushing hug that was dealt afterwards. Reluctantly, he brought his arms up to lightly band around his sire’s waist.

“You didn’t find her?” Angelus asked as he pulled back from his childe. Spike gave him a curious look but shook his head.

“No, but her trail led to a crash site. Either she was taken from there, or she decided to leave her sister bleeding in the driver’s seat of the car and managed to get far enough away not to be sensed by me when I got there. Personally I think it’s the first of the two,” Spike said seriously, deciding not to question why his sire wasn’t angrier with him.

“And I’d agree with you. Christian apparently put a familial claim on Buffy’s mother a few years before she had Buffy, marking her and all her kin as Occasian property. They want to perform a Second Turning on her,” Angelus growled out. “They had minions out there searching for her before they even entered the mansion to meet with us.”

“Well if they have got her, then we don’t have much time. Our only chance at getting her back without waging a full scaled attack is to intercept them before they manage to get her back to their holdings,” Spike said as he turned around to start out the door again.

Angelus’ arm shot out to stop him. “Think before you act, childe. What plan do you have other than running out there half-cocked to save her?”

Spike wilted slightly under his sire’s reproach. “We don’t have much time, sire.”

“I know,” Angel replied. “Their Order is probably halfway back to the rest of their clan by now.”

A slow smirk spread over Spike’s face as he thought of the small device he had planted on the bottom of their car—forgotten until now. “Actually, they may be having a little more trouble with that than anticipated.”

Angelus gave his childe a questioning look.

“I planted a small distraction on the bottom of their car. You know the ones, triggered by motion to count down from fifty before it detonates?”

Angelus threw his head back and let out a barking laugh as he slapped his childe on the shoulder. “I like the way you think, boy,” Angelus smiled at Spike as he calmed. “We’ll get her back.”

Spike sobered and nodded, dropping his eyes so that his sire wouldn’t see the doubt that plagued them.

“Spike,” Angelus said firmly, waiting until Spike’s eyes rose to meet his. “We’ll get her back. If they think I’ll just sit back while they try and take my childe from me they have another thing coming. Buffy is ours and I’ll be dammed if I let that little shit of a vampire Christian and his fucking Clan leader think they can take her from us.”

Spike couldn’t prevent the smirk that pulled at his lips in amusement.

Angelus smirked as well and stood up straighter. His eyes flicked to the young girl standing just inside the door before looking back at Spike. “Go show our guest to her sister’s room quickly. We don’t have long to plan this and we need every minute that we can get.”

“Come on, Nibblet,” Spike said with a smile, feeling better than he had all night about getting Buffy back. Dawn, who had remained unnoticed up until this point, jumped slightly at being addressed before scurrying after her sister’s boyfriend, the other vampire—Spike’s sire—gave her the creeps.


*****


Buffy rolled over and snuggled herself deeper into the covers of her bed. The silk of the sheets against the bare skin of her legs made her shiver as she slowly rubbed herself against them before settling down again. The pillow underneath her aching head felt wonderful. The tranquillity of the moment only lasted for a moment; however, before it was shattered as the memories from the night before came roaring back.

She knew even before she opened her eyes that she wasn’t within the walls of the Aurelian mansion. Something in her chest tightened in fear as a cold burst of tingles broke out over her skin. The feeling caused her to look down at herself and her state of undress. She lay in the strange bed in nothing but the lacy black underwear she had put earlier that night.

Buffy clutched the sheet desperately to her chest as she sat upright and allowed her eyes and senses to scan the room for the presence of another. She breathed a sigh of relief when she could sense nothing but herself in the room.

Throwing back the covers, she quickly searched the room for her clothing, only to find that it was nowhere within the room. Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle the sob that was threatening to make itself known as she realised for the first time the situation in which she had somehow found herself. Buffy pressed her lips together to try and stop the tears that were pooling in her eyes from spilling over.

She needed to find a way out. Buffy’s eyes instantly flew to the door, knowing that even if it was unlocked she would only find more trouble on the other side. Her only other option was a window at the far end of the room, which was covered by heavy black bars. Despite that, it still looked to be the better option.

She made her way across to the window quickly and as soundlessly as possible. Her hands found the ledge of the window and she tugged it upwards. Nothing moved. She tried lifting it again with the same result. Pointlessly she jiggled the window up and down in frustration before her fist shot out in anger and careened into the glass. It impacted with a dull thud sending a shock waving of paint shooting up her arm, but the glass didn’t even dint.

She let out a growl of frustration and made to kick the wall before she thought better of it and went to sit back down on the bed. She was stuck in a room with no way out and no clothes. At least she was alone.

Buffy eyed the door with contempt. At best it would lead to a way out, at worst… she could think of so many things worse than sitting alone in a room in her underwear. There was nothing to say that her captor wouldn’t come back though. She could take her chances sitting it out and waiting to see what would become of her, or try the door and possibly make her way to freedom. She wouldn’t think of what else it might lead her to.

Making her decision, Buffy stood up and made her way to the door. She stood behind it and placed her hand against the wood as she stretched out her senses. Someone—a guard most likely—stood just outside the door. Another presence was making its way down the hallway to her room.

A muffled conversation made its way through the door allowing her enough warning to quickly find her way back to the bed just as a key could be heard in the lock. She made a dive for the covers and pulled them up around her neck as the door was pushed inwards and two vampires entered the room.

“And so she awakens,” a lanky looking vampire said, not unkindly. Despite the smile he wore and his friendly nature, she pushed herself further back into the pillows of the bed as he slowly walked towards her. She eyed him warily as he held his arms out and laid a dress out along the foot of the bed.

He smiled at her fear of him. “Something for you to put on, unless you’d rather wear the sheet?”

Buffy scowled at him. “I’m not changing with you in here, if that’s what you’re waiting for.”

“You’ll need help doing the back up; I’ll send someone up, shall I?” He said as he motioned for the minion beside him to exit the room before slowly turning and making his own way out. The doors were shut securely behind him.

Buffy looked down at the garment stretching the width of the bed. Dropping the sheet she slowly stretched out to pull it towards her. Like most things she wore nowadays the material of the skirt was black—the only colour showing through was the rich crimson red of the underskirt from the long slit in the top layer. The bodice of the dress was made of red silk with an overlay of black lace. Whale boning gave the bodice that corset look that Dru was so fond of. The whole dress was something her older sister would gush over. Black ribbon laced the back of the dress up completing the corset look. While beautiful, it was not something she would normally choose to wear.

Buffy jumped and scrambled for the sheet again when the doors to her room flew open. The vampire entering barely looked at her as she made her way swiftly across the room and took the dress from Buffy’s loose hands.

“I’m here to help you dress, Miss,” the vampire said with a small curtsey. Buffy stared at her in bewilderment. “Please, Miss, the Master will be back any moment. You need to be dresses and cleaned up before you can be presented to him.”

“Presented to him?”

The vampire nodded and began to coax Buffy out from under the sheet. She never spoke as she worked, slipping Buffy into the dress before she had time to voice protest and tightening the strings that held the bodice together to the point where the whale bone dug uncomfortably into her waist.

Buffy gasped as all the air was pushed from her lungs. “Is this meant to be so tight?” she asked, wincing as the bone dug into her flesh again.

“Why shouldn’t it be, Miss?” the vampire asked mildly. “You have no need to breathe and the smaller your waist looks the more attention it will bring to your hips and breasts.”

“My hips and…? Well what if I don’t want attention brought to those aspects of my body!”

“I only do what the Master orders and he asked that you were made to wear this dress.” The vampire tied the final knot. “I’ll be back in a moment with something to clean that cut on your head with,” she said, before exiting the room as quickly and as quietly as she had entered.

Buffy looked down at herself as she heard the lock turn in the door. Her stomach rolled nauseatingly at the thought that someone who she had never met—but who obviously knew who she was—wanted to see her dressed in something that accentuated her hips and breasts. She couldn’t be here when the time came for her to meet the Master of this clan.


*****


Spike and Angelus sat side by side in the old black Desoto in silence. The house before them loomed over them like a shadow, taunting them for having arrived too late.

“What now, Angelus?” Spike asked. His voice was a deep growl betraying the emotions that were running rampant through him. “She’s inside and any chance we had of getting her back without starting a war is officially gone. They have the advantage. She’s on their territory and that means any fight that takes place will be here, where they have unlimited resources and where we would be forced to travel between here and the Mansion.”

“I know,” Angelus replied, staring up at the building before him as he sorted through what little options they had. “I guess that means we’ll need to take a different path. We’ll need to find out everything we can about their leader and his weaknesses. If we can’t attack them physically, we’ll attack mentally. The mind can be so much weaker than the flesh anyway,” he said, turning to his childe with a look that Spike hadn’t seen on his sire’s face for an age.

If there was one thing Angelus excelled in it was mental torment. If there was a weakness to be found, Angelus would find it, open the wound, and then rub salt into its raw flesh.

“In the meantime, we need to find out everything we can about Second Turnings and if anything can be done to stop them.”


AN: Thank you so much to Andrea for editing this chapter for me and to everyone who has reviewed so far *hugs you all*

Warning: This chapter deals with issues of molestation. The scene is not particularly graphic, however, if this makes you uncomfortable please feel free to skip it. I assure you that the motive behind writing the scene is plot-driven and not merely for the sake of writing it.




Chapter 14



Despite years of working in close contact with demons of countless origins—first in his rebellious youth, then later as a Watcher and finally in his position as a Welfare Officer in the Human Demon Relations Offices, better known by the acronym HDRO—Rupert Giles had never found himself in such an unlikely position. Giles had met his fair share of demons over the years, some more noteworthy than others—he had been granted permission to meet with several of the numerous Clan Leaders in the Sunnydale area on HDRO business on more than one occasion—yet being confronted by two of the most famous vampires in recent history seemed to be a step beyond whatever had occurred in the past. Moreover, they were there asking for his assistance.

He felt his initial anger at being awoke melt away to curiosity as he invited them into his home. “What can I do to help you?”

“What information can you give us on the Clan Leader of the Occasus Clan?” Angelus asked as he took the offered seat in Giles’ living room.

They certainly cut right to the chase. Want of information on the Occasian leader could only be a bad thing. The two clans had been rivals for centuries, their feud stretching back long enough that most of the vampires now filling their ranks knew only of their hatred of each other. For them that was enough reason to fight, it was the way they had been moulded. Their sire’s hatred passed down from generation to generation to shape their own. The lines of history joining the two clans had long since been blurred.

For two Aurelians to come to him looking for information on the leader of their rivalling clan told him that they had either been provoked into action or they were wishing to do the provoking. Either way it seemed to Giles that they were sitting precariously on the brink of a war and somehow he had landed right in the middle of it.

His history as a Watcher was no secret to the community or to the demon world. As such, he had access to information through old acquaintances and through the work he had done studying at the Council of which few could boast. Usually he saw this as an asset to the work he did integrating newly turned vampires and the occasional demon into society. Now it seemed the danger of being privy to such knowledge was about to make itself known.

“What type of information were you looking for?” Giles asked as easily as possible.

“Everything,” Angelus replied firmly. “We know nothing of him outside of his position within his clan and his physical appearance.”

Giles nodded. “I’m surprised you know that much in fact. Their clan is very private in its dealings.”

“Can you help us though?” Spike asked anxiously as he stared at the man before him.

Giles gave them a hard look. “You understand the type of position in which you are asking me to put myself, don’t you? Your rivalry is no secret and I doubt they would show much leniency towards me should they find out that you acquired the information you use against them from me.”

“We understand perfectly,” Angelus answered without hesitation. “However, if you help us, we are prepared to take you under our protection.”

“Still,” Giles sighed and rubbed a hand across his tired eyes. “Perhaps if I knew for what you intended the information?”

They were silent for a moment. Giles watched as a look passed between sire and childe. The emotion that could be seen in the depths of the blond vampire’s eyes was staggering. Giles had long since given up the teachings of the Council that demons couldn’t feel proper emotion. In his work at HDRO, he was faced with evidence that disproved that theory daily. Yet there were times, like these, when he was blown away by the sheer intensity of what he was witnessing. Spike was pleading with his sire, for what Giles didn’t know, but it seemed even Angelus was just as moved by the look in his eyes.

“I know, Will,” the elder vampire said gently in answer to his childe’s silent entreaty.

Angelus turned back to the human sitting before them. “Mr. Giles, I understand that you rather not get involved, but their clan has taken Buffy and they plan on attempting a Second Turning on her. It turns out that Buffy’s mother had a familial claim placed on her by Christian. No trace of the claim can be found in Buffy’s blood; nonetheless, they feel that Buffy belongs to their clan and seek to make that permanent.”

“Good Lord! You can’t be serious?” Giles asked. Neither vampire replied. “The practice of that ritual has been outlawed for centuries!”

“Buffy has already gone through an Embracement, Rupes. A Second Turning would kill her,” Spike said solemnly. “We need your help. We need to find out everything we possibly can about their Clan Leader and the ritual.”

Giles was silent as he considered what the vampire had said. If they truly intended on subjecting Buffy to a Second Turning there was no way that he could sit by and do nothing with that knowledge. It was his job to help people, not turn a blind eye to illegal practices which had proven fatal to the subject more than once in the past.

“You realise this is going to take days of research?” He told them as he resigned himself to the fact that he couldn’t knowingly sit by and do nothing. “I will need to go in to the offices to find out what they have on file. Every clan must have their Clan Leader’s name registered, as well as the time they took control of the clan. I believe that would be the first place for us to begin our search,” Giles said firmly as he stood with the vampires and made his way to the door. “In the mean time, we are going to need all the help we can get.”

“I don’t want to trust this to anyone outside of the Order,” Angelus replied grimly. “Minions are too easily bribed. We will gather those willing to help and meet you back here at sundown tonight.”

“Very well then,” Giles said as the group of men looked at each other with determination. “I assume your offer of protection still stands?”

Angelus nodded. “Of course, we are extremely grateful to you for your help.”

“Till sundown then,” Giles replied, as he watched the larger vampire walk out the door. He turned his attention to the blond that was still standing in his doorway.

“Thank you,” Spike said, holding his hand out to the man before him. He shook it firmly as Giles clasped it with his own.

Giles watched as Spike slipped of into the night after his sire. Spike wore his emotions for everybody to see, it was obvious that he cared deeply for Buffy Summers, possibly even loved her. Giles’ resolve to help them firmed; he would do whatever it took to help get Buffy back where she belonged.


*****


Buffy woke with the feeling of being watched. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but despite her determination to escape before she could be presented to the Master of the clan who had kidnapped her, Buffy quickly discovered that the only way out was through the locked and guarded doors at the end of the room. Sitting had proven uncomfortable so she had stretched out along the bed to avoid the punishing dig of the whale bone into her flesh.

Buffy grew still as she stretched out her senses, searching for the second presence she could feel in the room with her. A deep rasping chuckle from the corner of the room sent cold shivers racing down her spine and the hair on her arms standing on end. It screamed danger and both her demon and the girl inside her were desperate to flee, only they had nowhere to run. Instead, Buffy lay as still as possible in the presence of the threat.

“I know you’re awake,” the voice said with amusement, “I’ve been watching you for hours.”

She heard the heavy tread of feet behind her as the figure made its way over to the bed, but she refused to acknowledge him. The childish notion that if you can’t see it then it isn’t really there was running on repeat through her head as she waited for him to speak again or leave her alone.

Buffy’s eyes shot open when she felt the depression in the mattress behind her. She shivered in fear as his fingers rose to skim across the skin of her arm. A tight knot of nausea balled in her stomach as she bolted from the bed only to be pulled back underneath him.

She fought his hands away as they attempted to learn the curves of her body, his fetid breath that stank of stale blood fanned across her face as he leaned in towards her. “Stop it!” Buffy growled, letting her demon burst across her face as she pushed him off of her and bolted for the door again.

Her hands frantically tore at the handle as she rattled the door. His body slammed into hers from behind, plastering her to the door as his hands groped at her hips and breasts with bruising force. “Why are you fighting me?”

His hands moved towards her skirts.

“Please don’t,” she whimpered as she tried to buck him off. She pushed against the door with all her might as she tried to push him off and give herself some room to manoeuvre, but his hold on her refused to give even an inch. She clawed at his arms, his face, anything she could reach but nothing seemed to deter him.

She felt his hand on her thigh moments before it slipped up to massage the muscle of her rear as he ground his erection into her from behind. He ignored her attempts to throw him off or claw at him as he nuzzled the hair away from her neck. She held her breath and shut her eyes tightly as his tongue darted out leaving a cold trail of saliva down the length of her neck.

She shivered in disgust as her stomach rolled.

Then suddenly he stopped. He pulled away from her snarling, “You stink of Angelus!”

Buffy sighed in relief as he let go of her, remaining pressed up against the door as her skirts fell in place around her legs once more.

“The sooner that damn ritual takes place the better,” he growled as he gripped her shoulder and threw her backwards away from the door. He stopped to snarl down at her once more before walking out of the room and slamming the door in place behind him. Buffy waited until she heard the lock turn before she let the tears fall.


*****


Giles smiled briefly at the night time secretary as he breezed through the entrance of HDRO and made a beeline straight to his office. Despite a large percentage of their clientele being demons and keeping late hours, the offices were relatively quiet in the early hours of the morning. The only sound that could be heard as Rupert Giles sat behind his desk was the soft whir of the computer as it came to life.

His palms were sweaty as he placed his hands over the keyboard to sign in. Giles couldn’t help but shoot a quick glance towards the closed door before he began typing. Nothing about what he was doing was wrong—aside from the fact that he planned to give the information to the Aurelius clan so they could use it against their rivals—yet he could do nothing to stop the nervous swell of butterflies in his stomach. Giles found himself glad for the solitude that the early hours of the morning brought him, it meant there was no chance of someone walking in on him and forcing him to explain what he was doing.

His fingers flew across the keys as he searched through their database for the name of the vampire they were looking for. Once the program was running, Giles leant back in his chair and shut his eyes, allowing the computer to search through the system for the information he needed. He could feel the fatigue in his body creeping up on him as a result of the sleep that had been stolen from him the moment Angelus and his childe had shown up on his doorstep earlier that night. He had a feeling though, that over the next few days any chance of sleep would have to be forfeited in the face of research.

Giles sighed at the reality of it and looked back at the screen as it began flashing at him in completion. Grabbing a post-it note and a pencil from his desk, he quickly scrolled down the screen and jotted down the name it displayed at the reference numbers for the books he needed in their library.

Silas Tizoc.


AN: Thank you Andrea for the speedy beta and to everyone who has been reviewing :D

Chapter 15



It was a grim-faced Giles that answered his door just after sundown. “Come in, all of you,” he said as he opened the door wider to allow his guests entrance to his home.

He sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes as the group made their way across the threshold. The lack of sleep from the night before was weighing heavily on him. Fatigue drenched his limbs and his eyes were dry and each blink felt gritty beneath his eyelids. As such, it took him a moment to realise the group hadn’t moved beyond the entrance.

“Jesus, Rupes, did you bring the whole bloody library homes with you?” Spike asked incredulously as he stared at the transformation the small apartment had made in the few short hours since he had last been there. Boxes filled with books littered nearly every surface of the room. The floor and seats were cluttered with them, some balancing precariously on the arm of a chair while others were stacked three boxes high on top of one another. Old tomes were piled high on the coffee table and a singular pathway—leading first to the sole vacant seat in the room and then into the kitchen—was the only means of navigation around the room.

“No, these are only what would fit in my car and my partner’s car.” Giles said wearily as he allowed his eyes to scan over the books in the room.

The deep growl that resonated from the master vampire beside him drew his attention away from the books, but did little to ruffle him.

“I thought I told you that I didn’t want this trusted to anyone outside of the order,” Angelus growled.

“I assure you that Willow is quite trustworthy. Despite that, however, she is still no more aware of the issue than she was at this time yesterday evening when you had not yet even come to me. It is not uncommon to her for me to bring my work home with me, so I have little reason to believe that she would think something amiss,” Giles stated defensively.

Angelus looked unconvinced. “You’d better be right.”

“Or what? You’ll kill me? I think not. Not only am I a prominent figure in this town because of the work I do, but if you attacked me you would have no one who has anywhere near the resources or knowledge available to them to help you at the level that I can. So you see, Angelus, you can go about trying to be as scary as you like, but the fact is that you need me—Buffy needs me—and empty threats are just a waste of time that she doesn’t have,” Giles tersely retorted as he made his way over to the bottle of brandy he had opened earlier.

“I like him,” Darla said with a smirk as she broke away from the group and glided further into the room to take up residence in the only available seat. Angelus scowled at her and slammed the door moodily behind them.

Darla rolled her eyes at his antics. “We better get started,” she said turning to Giles. “Were you able to dig up anything during the day?”

Giles nodded. He gestured to the others to move some books and take a seat as he began to speak. “Their clan leader’s name is Silas Tizoc.”

Angelus frowned. “Sounds familiar.”

Giles nodded, “I dare say it would. As it turns out his history is more than a little entwined with the Aurelius Clan, you probably heard about him a time or two in passing. I haven’t had a chance to look at the information I have managed to find in depth, but his interest in your clan stretches back as far as I have been able to trace him so far.”

“And how far is that?” Spike asked.

“I have reason to believe that he is close to three thousand years old,” Giles replied steadily.

“That’s impossible,” Darla said. “No vampire has been recorded as far back as you are suggesting. The most only make it to a little over a thousand years.”

“Yes, I am quite aware of that. However, unless this vampire has taken the name of another vampire as his own, then we have no choice but to assume that he is, in fact, as old as the history leads us to believe.”

“So we read,” Spike said determinedly as he picked up the book lying open before him.

“We read,” Giles agreed with a nod.


*****


Buffy had slept through the day, a fact that shook her to the core. Her demon was still too young to resist the lure of sleep throughout the day once the sun had risen and she had succumbed to rest without realising it. It frightened her that she had let her guard down for so long. Since then someone had been in the room and drawn heavy curtains across the windows and moved her from the floor up into the comforts of the bed.

Her stomach rumbled loudly as she slipped out of the bed. She hadn’t eaten since before she had left the mansion to meet Dawn and hunger was gnawing at her. She felt the monster within her stir as it had that night so many weeks ago when she had been taken before the Master, only this time she didn’t try and rein it in. Buffy felt her face shift uncontrollably into that of her demon; it was time to get out of here. Food first, then escape, and she was going to need a change of clothes.

Her demon guided her actions as she silently made her way over to the door.

“Excuse me?” Buffy called as she knocked on the door. “Hello? Is there any chance that I could get some blood, please? Hello?”

Buffy smirked as she heard a rustle of movement outside her door. Extending her senses outwards she checked to make sure the guard was alone before quickly backing away from the entrance to position herself so that she would be behind the door when it swung open. Her demon was clawing at her in anticipation as she heard the key enter the lock moments before the door swung open and a minion stepped into the room.

“Miss Buffy?”

Buffy let out a low growl.

The other vampire stiffened and spun around a moment too late as she slammed the door closed behind him and pounced. A shocked gasp caught in his throat as her teeth found his neck and tore through the skin with an animalistic ease.

He struggled beneath her as she swallowed his blood down in mouthfuls, draining him quickly to the point when he hung limply in her arms. Buffy smiled as she felt his blood go to work in her body, renewing the strength that had been sapped from her from going so long without feeding.

Dropping the comatose vampire at her feet, she quickly went to work stripping him down, refusing to look at his skeletal form as she rid him of the pants and t-shirt he had been wearing. The shoes were too big to do anything other than hinder her.

Tearing at the strings of the corseted dress, she sucked in a deep breath as it fell loose around her and melted into a puddle of silk at her feet. “I’ll take jeans over that any day,” Buffy muttered as she quickly donned the minion’s clothes, thankful for the belt he had been wearing to help keep the pants up around her hips.

It would only be a matter of time before they realised she was gone. One look inside the room would be a big enough give away, there was nothing she could do to stop them finding out. Buffy worried her lower lip between her teeth as she glanced down at the vampire at her feet, maybe she could buy herself some time though.

Bending over, she hefted the dead weight of the motionless minion into her arms and carried him over to the bed. She dumped his body and the dress she had worn under the covers, with just enough skin and dress sticking out to make it look like she might be under there. She doubted it would fool them, but on the off chance it did she wasn’t going to leave the minion lying directly in front of the door.

Scooping up the keys that had been dropped in their struggle, Buffy walked over to the door with a heady sense of satisfaction and slid the key effortlessly into the lock.


*****


“Dear Lord!” Giles exclaimed softly as he leaned over the book he was reading to closer inspect the passage he had just read.

“What is it?” Spike asked as he moved to sit beside the Watcher.

Giles looked up at the blonde vampire in astonishment. “Silas was the vampire responsible for siring Simone, the Aurelius Clan Leader that preceded the Master. It seems your clans are more intertwined in each other’s history that I imagined.”

“He can’t be,” Darla stated in confusion. “Simone’s sire was cremated during the Second Turning that was used to bring her across to the Clan of Aurelius.”

Giles nodded. “It mentions that, however it also states here that he was resurrected a year after his death by a cult group known as Wolfram and Hart. They hoped to use him as means to bring about an apocalypse; however, Silas resented the fact that he was being used and in debt to anyone and later slaughtered half the team responsible for bringing him back.”

The group was silent as they digested the information they had just been given.

Spike frowned. “So Silas is linked to Simone. Is anyone else finding it strange how Simone’s name keeps coming up?”

“What do you mean?” Angelus asked as he moved to pull Darla into his lap.

“It just seems that I have heard more about her than usual ever since Buffy became part of the clan. The first thing she noticed when I brought her back to the Aurelius Mansion was the portrait of Simone’s turning. Then there was the Embracement—Angelus mentioned that the last time it was practiced Simone was the childe in question—not to mention Silas’s obvious interest in her. Knowing of his connection to Simone, what if he is seeing more than what is really there for some reason? What if he thinks Buffy is connected to Simone somehow?”

“You mean like reincarnation?” Giles asked.

“I didn’t think it was possible for vampire’s to be reincarnated,” Angelus said to Giles, “and even if Buffy was a reincarnation of Simone when she was human, she would have lost her soul when she was turned.”

Giles shook his head. “No, I don’t believe she would have.”

The three vampires shared a look as the ex-watcher got up and made his way over to the extensive book case on the other side of the room. “While I was working with the Council I did some extensive research on the mechanics of vampires and the process involved in their turning. See, I don’t believe that vampires are dead, rather just immortal.”

Spike shared a disbelieving look with his family.

“Just let me explain,” Giles went on, catching the looks that passed between the vampires as he returned to his seat. “I believe a soul is nothing more than something that animates us and that everything on earth has one, humans and demons alike. You know that all demons that walk in this dimension are a hybrid in some way or another with humans; pure demons are much larger and far more vicious than anything we have ever seen here on earth. That being said, I believe that during a turning, the demon soul and the human soul merge to form that of a vampire’s soul—a hybrid of the two species. Thus the human is able to keep their memories and the essence that makes them uniquely them. However, we all know a vampire is not human; therefore, a genetic change has to take place. I believe that the soul doesn’t cause the mutation of features; rather it is caused when they are fed their soon-to-be sire’s blood. You would know better than anyone that a vampire’s blood has mystical qualities—especially that of sire’s blood. As the blood enters the system it alters their genetics and physically turns them into what we know as a vampire.”

Spike frowned at Giles. “That makes a weird sort of sense.”

“Say your theory is correct—that the human and demon souls merge to create a new soul—and say that Buffy does have a reincarnation of Simone’s soul. Is there any way a person could be tested for the presence of someone else’s soul?” Darla asked.

Giles nodded. “There are numerous spells that can be used to determine the essence of someone’s soul. Some require no more than a simple incantation placed on a crystal.”

“Then let’s say Silas knew about these spells and did one to determine whether Buffy carried his childe’s soul,” Darla suggested.

Giles shook his head, “The majority of these spells need to be done in close proximity to the subject. He would have had to have been within her presence for it to work.”

“No he wouldn’t,” Spike said suddenly. “Not if he got one of his lap dogs to do his dirty work. Think about it, we run into Christian at the club and then the next night his clan comes a-knocking? There is no way that could be coincidence.”

“So Silas sends Christian out with the spell to find us, he hangs around long enough for it to work, then he runs home to his Master with the results. We can assume the test came out positive,” Angelus said getting into it. “So they took Buffy as, what? Revenge?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Giles said. “Silas loved his childe.”

“Maybe Simone didn’t love Silas though?” Darla offered. “Revenge of a scorned lover perhaps?”

“Whether it is love, hate or revenge, this vamp is obsessed and he thinks Buffy essentially is Simone or at least the closest thing he’ll get to her,” Spike stated. “We need to get her out.”


AN: Thank you Andrea for the beta, and to everyone else who has commented :D

Chapter 16



Buffy let her head fall back towards the sky as she sucked the crisp night air into her empty lungs. She had been held captive for no more than a few days, but it seemed like forever since she had been able to breathe fresh air. It made her wonder how she took such things for granted in life. She shut her eyes and let a smile slide across her face as her demon receded. Its work was done for the night. It had gotten her safely outside of the walls that had kept her prisoner.

From the street, Buffy looked back over her shoulder and into the building she had just exited. She should have been horrified by the trail of bodies that she had left in her wake, but she wasn’t. They were all vampires, and the lack of dust clogging the already dirty and moth eaten floors of the run down apartment block attested to the fact that she hadn’t killed anyone that night. That wasn’t to say that she hadn’t inflicted more than a little violence on anyone that had tried to stop her.

The free rein she had allowed her demon both frightened her and excited her. She had been brutal and vicious, but more importantly she had been unstoppable. Nothing had stood a chance against her. She hadn’t known she could harbour that much violence and power within her person. If it had been any other time or place she would have been scared at what she had just felt, but all she could feel at that moment was relief—she was out.

The fight had been enough to appease the demon within her, satisfied that justice had been brought to at least some of those who were responsible for tearing her from her sister’s side and her family. She felt little guilt over the state in which she had left most of them. She hadn’t killed anyone, but if one of them happened to dust before sunrise? It wasn’t something she was overly worried about.

Maybe things would have been different had their Clan Leader and the members of his Order had been there to join the fight, but luck had been on her side and the only vampires who had been there to stand in her way were their minions.

Lifting her inner wrist to her forehead, mindful of the blood that coated her hands, she swiped it across her sticky forehead trying to dislodge some of the blood that was starting to dry out and make her skin feel tight. She needed to find somewhere to clean up—their Master wouldn’t be gone long and she wanted to be as far from this place as possible come dawn. The Aurelius Mansion was out of the question, she had no doubt that they would be able to find her there. It was the logical place for her to run to and the first place that she would send minions out looking for her were their positions reversed. No, she needed somewhere where she was completely unreachable.

Her mother’s place was the first place that entered her mind but she quickly brushed it aside. Joyce had made it more than clear that Buffy would not be a welcome presence in her home or in her life now that she was a vampire. She would need to be allowed inside her mother’s home before she could ever be safe there. Going to her mother was completely out of the question.

Who else did she know, though, that wouldn’t turn her away because of what she was? She could count the number of people that she knew in Sunnydale on one hand. She’d already ruled out both her clan and her mother. That left Ford and Mr. Giles.

She had no idea where Mr. Giles lived and somehow she didn’t think he’d appreciate being dragged into the middle of the situation she had somehow gotten herself into. She owed him so much already, and for all she knew members of the clan that kidnapped her might already have a standing invitation into his home. Of course, that was possible no matter where she went…

Buffy’s head snapped up as an idea suddenly hit her. Memories of a conversation her sire and grandsire had had the night after the incident at the nightclub suddenly came screaming back. Christian had overshadowed her memories of that night until that moment.

Riley.

She needed a place where she was completely unreachable. What place better than a vampire prohibited estate that was dedicated to rehabilitation of vampire addicts? She had overheard her sire saying that Riley had been shipped off to start in a programme there the morning after the night at Requiem.

Who knew that when she met Riley that fateful night that he would end up saving her life?

A grin split her face as she took off down the street. All she needed to do was find her way to the estate, and then all it would take was the use of her senses to guide her to Riley.


*****


Riley grimaced as his body swum back into wakefulness. His eyes still felt heavy with sleep as he blinked them open to stare at his darkened ceiling. Something had woken him. Rolling over, he looked at the glaring digits on the clock beside his bed that seemed to cast the room in a faint green glow—it read 3:30 a.m.

“Shit,” he said as he rolled over to bury himself deeper into the warmth of the covers of his bed. Whatever it was that had awoken him could wait. His body was just beginning to slip back into the depths of sleep again when he heard it. Someone was knocking on his window.

Riley bolted up in bed clutching the quilt around his waist as he stared at his window.

He frowned as he saw a little blonde head pop up over the ledge to look at him. His frown deepened when she waved at him and gestured for him to move over to the window.

He had to be dreaming. What the hell was a young blonde woman—who just happened to be smeared in blood—doing at his window beckoning him to come closer? Nevertheless he got up as if in a trance and moved towards his window.

“Can…can I help you?” he asked, mentally laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

“Riley? It’s Buffy. You remember me, right?” She asked hopefully at his confused expression. “From that night at the club?”

His hand moved up to scratch at his forehead. “Which night at the club? I was there a lot.”

“You know, your last night?” She prompted, hoping he would understand. She didn’t have time to be sitting here all night trying to swap details with him until he remembered.

Slowly the pieces started to come together in his head—the beautiful blonde little vampire that had fed off him, him begging her to continue, the fear on her face when he made to grab at her.

“You’re a vampire,” he stated simply, “you’re not allowed to be here.”

“I know. I need your help. Please? I didn’t know where else I could go that I would be safe. I was new to Sunnydale when I was turned so I haven’t been able to make many new friends yet.”

Riley gave her a look of astonishment. “How am I supposed to help you? I’m stuck here for at least the next 6 months, undergoing a rehabilitation programme ‘cause I am addicted to you—things like you I mean. Not you, you.”

Despite herself, Buffy smiled. “I know what you mean. Listen. I just need a chance to shower and use your phone. I’ll be out of your hair by dawn. No one needs to know that I was here and I promise I won’t do anything to disrupt your rehabilitation.”

“You don’t need to do anything. Just being here is disrupting it. You don’t know what having an addiction is like. I know it’s wrong, I haven’t been able to think this clearly in months. Yet still I’m standing here and I’d do anything just to feel you bite me again. Too feel that rush, that pleasure.”

“Yet you still haven’t broken down and invited me in. Doesn’t that prove to you that you have made progress? You want it, but you can resist it.” She looked at him with pleading eyes. “Please, Riley?”

He was silent while his eyes searched her face. She needed him to let her in, if not she could be stuck outside as an easy target until the sun rose for the day. Then she would be forced to find shelter wherever she could.

“Come in, Buffy,” he said finally.

Buffy let out a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

He stepped back and allowed her to climb in through the window. Shooting him a bright smile she looked down at her clothes for the first time since she had escaped. “I guess I should probably wash up first.”

Riley nodded and showed her to the bathroom. Closing the door behind her she flicked the lock and quickly went to work on undressing. She didn’t waste any time as she turned on the water in the shower and stepped under its spray. She moaned as the boiling hot water pounded down on her skin, easing the tension out of her muscles and washing away the grime from the fight.

She didn’t linger under its heat for too long though, stepping out again as soon as she was clean only to dry off and regretfully pull back on the dirty clothes she had taken from the minion. She had no choice but to leave her wet hair out to dry naturally on its own.

Stepping back out of the bathroom, she let her senses guide her to the only human in the small apartment.

“Riley?” She called out softly as she made her way down the hall.

“In here,” came the soft reply.

She followed the sound of his voice back to his bedroom to find him sitting on the edge of the bed. “Thanks for the shower,” she said gently as she made her way into the room. He nodded but didn’t answer. “Do you mind if I use your phone quickly?”

He nodded to the portable phone that rested on the bedside table. Picking it up, she flashed him a smile as she dialled the number she needed. It was answered on the second ring.

“Hello?”


*****


The heated debate on how best to rescue Buffy fell silent as the shrill ring of Spike’s mobile cut through the air. The vamp in question frowned as he pulled the small device out and flipped it open.

“Hello?” he asked briskly.

“Spike?”

Spike felt as if he had been punched in the gut. His eyes went wide as he shot a look across at his sire and grandsire. “Buffy. Where are you, baby? Are you okay?”

The whole room snapped to attention at the sound of Buffy’s name.

“I’m okay,” she said with a slightly bitter chuckle. “I managed to escape by going completely Rambo on a whole bunch of minions. I’m calling from Riley’s apartment. It was the only place I could think to go where they wouldn’t come looking, since it has the whole vampire prohibited estate thingy in place.”

Spike was already pulling his keys out. “I’m at Mr. Giles’ place at the moment, but I’m going to come get you and bring you back here, okay? They’ll need an invite to get in here, too.” He shot a look a Giles for confirmation. The man nodded the affirmative that she would be safe staying in his apartment. Spike gave him a small smile of thanks.

“Okay,” Buffy said, nodding even though she knew he couldn’t see it.

Spike pushed up from his seat and started to the door. “I’m leaving now, okay? I’ll be there soon, kitten.”

“Hurry?” She whispered into the phone.

“I am.” The door to the apartment slammed shut behind him, closing him off from the others still inside. “I am, sweetheart.”




AN: Thank you so much to Andrea for the speedy beta on this chapter, and to everyone who has commented so far :D You guys are great! On a different note, I'm sorry about the long delays in posting each chapter. I will try and keep them as regular as possible, but unfortunately school work has to come first :(

Chapter 17



A deep knot of unease bunched in Christian’s stomach as he looked at what Buffy had left of their clan. It was mind boggling that a vampire of her young age could accomplish something of this magnitude—she had more than depleted their numbers, she damn near wiped them out! There clan was not what it used to be—Silas’ single-minded obsession had caused them to suffer. The numbers were made up of mostly minions, dim-witted and untrained. Despite that, it was still almost incomprehensible that a fledgling could accomplish this unaided.

But she had.

Silas’ anger was unspeakable. The screams of the minion that they had found nude in her bed were still ringing throughout the building. The story was that she had garnered his attention with the request for blood and once he had entered the room she had startled him from behind and overpowered him. Christian almost wanted to laugh—a fledgling just over a week old managing to overpower a minion that had been a vampire for well over fifty years? Buffy Summers was most definitely not your average vampire. Perhaps that was part of the reason he was infinitely fascinated by the blonde.

It had been an age since he had been around a fledgling childe. He had forgotten how they had to learn to be a vampire, unlike minions. He had never made a childe of his own—he had never before seen the appeal in it—but meeting Buffy had shown him what it could be like. She was strong, she was beautiful, and the expression on her face when she looked at Angelus spoke of explicit trust. Buffy relied on Angelus without question; she trusted that he would guide her down the right path. Christian had never known that kind of trust, and suddenly he found himself wanting it more than he had wanted anything in his life, more than even his freedom from this never ending quest for a vampire that was long dusted.

Christian was shaken from his thoughts at the moan of pain that came from his right and turned just in time to see the wounded vampire beside him turn to dust. He knew this would not be enough to deter Silas in his quest to have Simone at his side once more. If anything, having his desire snatched from him so close to the completion of his plans would only strengthen his resolve to get her back.

It seemed that the battle for Simone was not almost over as he had thought, but rather just beginning. Just how many more times would Buffy Summers manage to slip through their fingers before it all came to an end?


*****


Buffy left the room as soon as she had disconnected from the call with Spike. Riley was giving her the creeps. He hadn’t moved or said anything since she had asked him where the phone was, hadn’t even given her a reaction when she told him that she’d wait out on his couch until Spike arrived. It had been twenty minutes since then, and with any luck Spike was only a few minutes away.

Buffy fiddled with her fingernails as she tried to keep herself calm. The rush of adrenaline was slowly starting to drain out of her, leaving her feeling cold and empty. She didn’t want to have to think about what she’d done or what had happened over the past few days. She didn’t want to do anything but curl up and forget anything had ever happened.

Leaning forward, Buffy let her head drop into her hands. If this was what life as a vampire was going to be like, then she wasn’t sure she was going to last. It would only take so long for the clan she’d escaped from to catch up, and then she’d be running again. Hopefully with Spike at her side.

Once they made it to Giles’ then what? She’d be safe from them inside the house, but it didn’t mean that they couldn’t reach her. If they really wanted her, there were ways to get her outside the house. She still didn’t have a clue what they wanted from her, besides the blatant display their disgusting excuse for a leader had put on when he had tried to touch her. She had never been so glad for the scars on her throat that marked her as Angelus’ childe.

Buffy felt tears begin to burn at the back of her eyes as her emotions started to overwhelm her.

She was still like that when she heard the shuffle of footsteps making their way down the hall towards her. The sound in itself didn’t bother her—there was after all, another person in the apartment with her—it was the loud bang as something fell against the wall that had her lifting her head from her hands.

Buffy’s eyes widened as she saw Riley stumble into the room, leaning heavily against the doorframe for support. His unwavering gaze came to rest on her as he gained his bearings. His chest was heaving, a layer of sweat covering his skin and he was trembling uncontrollably.

Buffy stood up from her seat and edged her way around behind the couch. “Riley? Are you okay?” she ventured cautiously.

There was no reaction from him at the sound of his name. He stood silently in the doorway, swaying ever so slightly from side to side. Buffy worried her bottom lip between her teeth as he pushed himself away from the door and stumbled further into the room. She knew she could defend herself if he decided to attack her, but Riley was human and she didn’t want to have to hurt him. She had almost killed most of the vampires she had fought earlier in the night, she didn’t want to know what she might accidentally do to a human if she had to defend herself.

Buffy was contemplating knocking him out and tying him up until Spike arrived when a knock at the door cut through the tension in the room. Riley stopped his progress into the room and seemed to shake himself from the state he’d been in as he looked curiously across at the door.

Buffy let out a small whimper of relief as she shot across the room to the front door. Spike was standing impatiently on the other side as it was flung open. Buffy didn’t give him a chance to greet her before she had launched herself through the door and into his arms and promptly burst into tears.

Spike’s arms came up to hold her tightly. He sighed in relief as he pressed his face into the softness of her hair. His demon started purring at the feel of her small body pressed up against his own. As far as the demon in him was concerned, it had its mate back in its arms where she belonged. He’d never let her go again if he had his way.

Buffy’s fingers were curled tightly into the soft cotton of his shirt as she inhaled the comforting scent that clung to him. To her, Spike was home. He was safety and comfort and exactly what she so desperately needed. Spike pressed a kiss to the top of her head as he stroked her hair gently, a suspicious wetness clinging to his own eyes and wetting his lashes. “I’ve got you, kitten.”

She pressed herself closer to him as her lips caressed the skin of his neck before she lifted her head to crush her lips against the softness of his mouth in a bruising kiss. Spike’s growl of approval rumbled through her as his hands clutched at her waist, holding her against him tightly as her fingers raked through his hair.

“Missed you,” he said as he kissed her again softly. “I was worried about you, sweetheart,” Spike murmured as his lips followed the path of her jaw line down to her neck, unable to keep from biting over the area at which he wanted so desperately to mark her with human teeth. Buffy let out a deep moan at the feel of his teeth scraping across the taut skin of her neck.

Riley chose this time to make his presence known. The display being put on in front of him was too much for his temporary gain of control to take. “You need to get out of here,” he said in a strained voice from his place a few feet from the door. Spike looked up at the human. He could see the small measure of control he had over his addiction beginning to slip. “Please?” Riley added when the two vampires made no move to leave.

Spike shook his head. “Thank you,” he said seriously. Riley looked up at him and nodded.

Spike closed the door quickly and grabbed Buffy by the hand. “Let’s go, sweetness.”


*****


Spike watched his girl fly into their sire’s arms the moment she was granted access into Giles’ apartment. Angelus wrapped her up tightly in his arms, morphing into his demon’s guise and sinking his teeth into her neck in one fluid motion. Spike felt something painful clench in his stomach. It was an act meant to bring both comfort and reassurance to sire and childe. It was a familial act, one that Spike himself had been on the receiving end of more than once, yet he couldn’t help the stir of jealousy he felt as she tore herself from his side and launched herself into his sire’s arms. It was how Angelus buried his fangs in her neck with out need of thought that was the clincher though. How often did Spike’s own thoughts stray to being able to do the exact same thing?

More and more, thoughts of being able to mate with Buffy were circling around in his head. He knew if he ever wanted it to happen he’d not only have to ask her, but he’d also have ask his sire and the Master of the Clan for permission. Mating was an eternal bond and a serious step in the vampire world. Once you mated, you were ultimately signing away your immortality, because no one lasted beyond the death of their mate, and even vampires didn’t live forever. Silas was the oldest vampire Spike had ever heard of and he was only 3000 years old. But it was lifetimes compared to what humans got. And he would rather live and die with the knowledge that he could call her his own than never have her at all.

Spike watched as her arms tightened around Angelus’ waist and his large hand came up to soothe the back of her head.

He knew he was being stupid. Angelus was a father figure to her if anything. A mentor and someone she felt she instinctively knew she could rely on and trust because of her link to his demon. At least this reunion didn’t include her trying to stick her tongue down their sire’s throat as she had done with him. If she had attempted that he didn’t know what he would be liable to do.

He looked across at Darla. She seemed unfazed by the show of emotion. Of course, she was already mated to Angelus and therefore had no need to doubt his affections towards her.

Spike looked back at the object of his affections as she disentangled herself from her sire’s arms. He was somewhat mollified when she pulled back from Angelus with a small smile and returned to his side. Spike wrapped a possessive arm around her waist, pleased when she twisted her body into his and rested her head down against his shoulder.

“It’s good to see you again, my dear,” Giles said with a kind smile. “I have set up the spare bedroom for you with clean sheets. Now that you’re safely back amongst us once more, perhaps any further discussion on what we will need to do to ensure your continued safety can wait until this coming night? I dare say we could all do with a decent night’s sleep.”

Buffy yawned as if on cue. “Thank you,” she said with a sheepish look.

Giles smiled. “It’s quite alright. I assume Spike will be staying with you, tonight?”

Buffy looked up at the vampire in question, a shy smile spreading its way across her face as she glanced at him from under her lashes. Spike grinned down at her. “I’m staying,” he confirmed for the ex-watcher. All jealousy over his sire gone in the face of her desire to have him stay with her.

“We’ll be back at sundown then,” Angelus said with a smile as he held his hand out for his mate.







AN: Thank you so much to Andrea for the beta and to everyone who has been reviewing *hugs you all*

Chapter 18



Spike silently closed the door behind him as he entered the small bedroom that Giles had been kind enough to set up for them. Buffy was stretched out along the bed with her back to him. The oversized t-shirt Giles had lent her was bunched up around the thighs leaving the shapely form of her legs bare to his gaze and her tousled hair spread out across the pillow behind her. Spike frowned, as beautiful as she looked in that moment there was something wrong about seeing her in nothing but another man’s t-shirt—the plaid pyjama pants she had also been given having been left neatly folded on a chair in the corner of the room.

Kicking off his boots he made his way over the side of the bed and sat down gently beside her. His hand skimmed across the skin of her arm gently and down to her waist as he stretched himself out behind her.

“You awake, kitten?”

Buffy’s eyes opened easily as she rolled over to look at him, smiling as his hand came up to run down the side of her face in a gentle caress.

“Tired?” Spike asked as he leant over her to brush his lips across hers.

She shrugged and rolled into his embrace. “Sort of, I can’t sleep though.”

Spike dropped a kiss the top of her head. “You’re safe here, sweetheart.”

“For now, maybe,” she said as her hand found its way under the material of his t-shirt and absently danced over the skin she found there. “They’ll find me eventually and then I’ve put you and Giles at risk as well.”

Spike let out a quiet growl, his hand brushing back the hair from her face and tilting her head up so he could look her in the eye. “I can look after myself, kitten.”

Buffy lent forward and captured his lips with her own gently, “I didn’t say you couldn’t, I just said I’m putting you at risk if something does happen”

“You don’t need to worry about me, pet”

Buffy gave him a small smile and tucked her head back under his chin. “That doesn’t mean I won’t. It seems that ever since I arrived in Sunnydale all I’ve had is one stroke of bad luck after another.”

“It hasn’t been all bad, has it?” Spike asked softly.

Buffy sighed, “No, I guess not. If Penn hadn’t attacked me I would have never met you, or the rest of the clan. But I don’t know if I am really cut out for all this. I didn’t want to become a vampire to begin with, and I’ll admit it is nothing like I thought it would be, but if being a vampire means that I am constantly fighting just to live, then I don’t know if this is what I want.”

Spike frowned at the tone he could hear in her voice. “What are you trying to say, pet?”

Buffy hugged him closer. “I don’t know…just that maybe when this is all over I might not stay with the clan. If I can find somewhere to live relatively undisturbed, where I can still get access to blood…I don’t know. These past few days have been awful and all I know is I never want to be in the position where I have to go through something like that again.”

“You want to leave?”

“I said I don’t know!” Buffy pushed away from him and sat up on the edge of the bed. Her shoulders started to shake as tears started to run down her face again. “I just don’t ever want to be put in a situation like that again, their leader…he didn’t want to kill me, Spike, it was perverse and it was frightening.”

“He…,” Spike began, lost for words in his anger. “Did the bastard touch you?”

Buffy shook her head. “He tried. He didn’t get very far though, something about Angelus’ mark on my neck drove him off. He told me I stunk of Angelus and left. Thankfully, I didn’t see him again before I escaped.”

A vicious growl rumbled loudly from the vampire sitting behind her. Her demon knew instinctively that the threat wasn’t directed at her, however, and instead of running she turned herself into his arms. “He didn’t hurt me, Spike.”

Spike’s arms circled around her and his lips claimed hers. His mouth slanted over hers, his tongue begging for entrance urgently as he pulled her closer. The thought that Silas had touched her in any way made his skin crawl and his demon howl in righteous anger. The feel of her soft curves beneath the skin of his hands went some way to appeasing his demon of its ‘claim’ to the woman in his arms.

He let out a deep rumble as he rolled her beneath him. Buffy’s legs parted instinctively to allow him to settle into the natural cradle of her hips. Her small hands were beneath the material of his shirt pushing it up over his head desperately.

“I love you,” Buffy whispered as she broke their connection.

Spike was breathing harshly and he groaned loudly at her declaration, pulling her back into their kiss. “Buffy,” he began, as his forehead dropped down to rest against hers. “I love you, too, Kitten. God, I love you so much.”

Buffy whimpered and started tugging at his jeans. “Off,” she insisted as she attacked his belt.

Her desperate intensity pushed him into action and Giles’ t-shirt was pulled off and discarded over the edge of the bed with fervour as Buffy began to frantically push his jeans down his legs. He helped her shimmy them off before ripping the panties from her body and settling himself over her. His skin seemed to come alive as it rested against hers with no barriers barring them for the first time.

She was all softness and femininity—the soft skin of her thighs slid against the outside of his hips and the fullness of her breasts crushed up against his chest. His desire for her intensified tenfold at the visual and physical stimulation she presented.

Spike smoothed the hair out of her face as his eyes bored down into hers. “Want you,” he growled before he claimed her mouth with his in a bruising kiss. It lacked the finesse of their previous kisses as they abandoned all thought to the feel of each other, yet the passion and love was there. Buffy’s finger raked through his short hair, gripping the curls at the nape of his neck as they began to move against one another.

His fingers blazed a trail down between the center of her breasts and out to her waist as he tugged the entire length of her body roughly up against his. She could feel the heavy weight of his erection rubbing against the inside of her thigh as he leant down to press a kiss to the skin in the valley between her breasts.

Spike’s hand dropped down to her core, fluttering over the silken skin of her inner thighs that had clutched his waist before his fingers began lightly tracing the folds of her sex.

“Spike,” Buffy moaned throatily as his blunt teeth scrapped over the skin of her neck again and his fingers parted her folds only to sink into her depths.

Spike growled heatedly as her muscles clenched around the intrusion instinctively. “Like that, kitten?”

Buffy’s fingernails dug into the flesh of his shoulders as she nodded fervently. Her thighs tightened around his sides as she rocked her hips up into his hand in time with each stroke. Spike groaned loudly at the tightness of her inner walls, his cock responding to the stimulus in anticipation of what was to come. Spike curled his fingers upwards within her channel as they searched for the elusive spot that brought so many women so much pleasure.

“Oh, God!” Buffy gasped as he pressed against something within her that sent a tremor of pleasure rippling across her body. Her eyes slammed shut as he repeatedly pressed against it, her hips bucked uncontrollably up into his hand as her pleasure built and burst sending her flying over the edge. “Spike! Need to feel you inside me!”

She reached down between them, grasping the hard length of his cock in her small hands and gently tugging him towards her. Buffy groaned loudly at the loss of his fingers when he slid them out of her as she aligned the head of his cock with her entrance.

“Hang on, kitten,” he whispered as he ghosted a kiss across her lips and took his shaft into his own hands and began to run it through her wetness, coating it in her excitement before poising the head of his cock outside her entrance once more.

“Love you, kitten,” he breathed as he began to push his way inside until he was fully encased within her channel. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good.”

“So good.” Buffy gripped him tighter as their hips started to rock together. Pleasure crashed over her body in waves in time with each plunge of his hips. Their pleasure built rapidly; Spike could feel her walls quivering around his length as she approached her climax and knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold off instead of following her over.

“I want to…” She gasped out as he watched her face morph into its demon’s countenance uncontrollably. Her amber eyes flicked up to meet his, the question burning clearly in her gaze.

Spike nodded as he brought forth his own demon. “You can bite me, pet.”

An impassioned growl ripped through her as she pulled his neck down to her mouth and gratefully sunk her fangs into her lover’s neck. It was nothing like Riley’s blood had been, or anything like Angelus’ blood. Spike tasted like home. She could feel his love for her in each pull of his blood and the feeling sent her rocketing over the edge.

Spike let out a strangled noise of pleasure as he felt her teeth break through the skin of his neck. Her internal walls clamped down around his cock as she flew over the edge and his own eyes slammed shut as he tried to stave of his own release.

Her felt her hand at the back of his head, pushing his face down into her own neck. His tongue darted out to trace the column of her throat before he buried his fangs in her neck. He jerked once and found his release inside her the moment the taste of her blood touched his lips.

The desire to claim her was so strong it was almost overwhelming. All it would take was one tiny word and her responding acceptance. It would be so easy—too easy. Spike pulled back from her neck and laved his marks closed. It wasn’t just his decision to make.

He could feel Buffy lapping at the marks on his neck, closing the wounds as he had done with her. Her fingers were playing lazily with the hair at the nape of his neck as she placed a small kiss over her bite mark and drew back from him. Spike slipped out from within her as he rolled them to the side and pulled her into his embrace.

Spike’s hand settled over the curve of her buttocks as her hand came up to rest on his chest. She looked up at him with a lazy smile on her face. “That was amazing.”

Spike leant down and kissed her softly. “I love you.”

Buffy grinned at him. “I love you, too.”

“What would you say if I asked you to mate with me?”

A coy look spread over her face. “I thought we just did.”

Spike smiled and tilted her face up to his. “No, I mean officially. I love you, Buffy, and I want you to be my mate.”

“You want me to be…?” Buffy asked, sitting up as what he had said finally sunk in, a massive grin breaking out across her face. “Oh My God! Did you just ask me to marry you?”

Spike felt the nerves that had been amazingly absent initially start to creep into the pit of his stomach. In essence he had—she had lived the majority of her life in the human world with human customs, so it would make sense that she would see his proposal in human terms.

He nodded. “I did, love.”

Buffy’s hands flew to her face as she burst into tears and threw herself at him, his arms encircled her waist as she devoured him in a hungry kiss, her hand holding his face to hers. “I love you.”

“That’s a yes then?” Spike asked with a hesitant smile spread across his face.

“Yes, that’s a yes!”

Spike grinned and rolled her underneath him again. “Fuck, I love you.”

“You too.”





AN: As always, thanks to Andrea for the amazing work beta'ing this fic, and to everyone who had commented so far :D I hope you enjoyed the chapter ;)

Chapter 19



A wave of hot anger washed over Angelus the moment he stepped across the threshold of the ex-Watcher’s apartment and into the small living room, and his gaze darkened. Giles, who was standing by the door, quickly took a step away from the clearly angry vampire. He was willing to work with them, but suffice to say he still didn’t completely trust them, at least not when they looked ready to kill at a moment’s notice.

Angelus took in a disgusted breath through his nose and let it out slowly before glaring across at his childer—he could smell their scents all over one another and it made his demon furious that they would take such risks.

“Sire—” Spike began respectfully as he took a step towards his sire.

Angelus snarled at his childe, “How could you be so phenomenally stupid?”

Buffy, who had opened her mouth to talk, snapped it shut again. Her demon cowered submissively as the glare that had been directed at Spike turned on her. Buffy bowed her head under his furious gaze. It only seemed to make his demon angrier.

“Angelus,” Darla said soothingly as she moved to his side, placing a calm hand on his shoulder, “perhaps now is not the time for this discussion? We have bigger problems to deal with.”

Angelus shrugged off his sire’s hand. “I can barely fathom what the hell you must have been thinking when you decided to take her like that!” he continued as he rounded on Spike. “Have you no grasp of the situation that we are in and what will happen if Silas finds out you have taken something that he believes rightfully belongs to him? We are trying to avoid an all out war and here you are royally fucking things up once again!”

“Angelus!” Darla cut in commandingly, “Now is not the time! Nothing can be done about it now. We came here to discuss other things.”

Angelus stared at her for a long moment, before deciding that it wasn’t worth the risk of increasing her anger, and moved to take a seat. Satisfied, Darla took the seat beside him and motioned for the other two to sit as well. Spike looked like he was ready to continue the argument and take the chance to add his own two cents to be heard.

“Silas?” Buffy asked, directing the question towards her grandsire as she took a seat submissively. “As in the vampire responsible for turning the Aurelian Clan Leader Simone?”

“You know something?” Angelus asked as he sat forward in his seat watching his childe intently. Buffy fought the urge to shrink back under his gaze. She knew that she had somehow angered her sire by sleeping with Spike the night before, but she didn’t understand why. It had something to do with the mention of Silas though, she was sure.

Buffy worried her bottom lips between her human teeth. “Silas was cremated during Simone’s Embracement though, wasn’t he?”

Angelus frowned quizzically at his childe. “Her Second Turning actually, but he was later resurrected. How did you know that? We’ve spent days researching both vampires and only recently came across that information.”

Buffy frowned. How was she going to tell them of the ‘dream’ she had experienced after her Embracement?

“I saw it,” she began slowly, “after my Embracement. I thought it was a dream. I looked into it a little afterwards but I couldn’t find much information on either vampire—none on Silas.”

“You ‘saw’ it? You mean in a vision?” Spike asked, forgetting his previous anger in the face of new information that might be able to help them. Buffy nodded uncertainly.

“How long after your Embracement was this?” Giles asked her. He had been unusually quiet since heated argument that had broken out in his living room the moment the two elder Aurelians had arrived.

“Directly—when I was still unconscious from the ritual,” Buffy said quietly turning to the ex-Watcher.

“Imprinting.” Darla cut in knowingly.

Buffy frowned in confusion. “What’s imprinting?”

“When a vampire undergoes a traumatic experience such as Simone’s Second Turning or your Embracement, it can sometimes lead to a memory of the experience being imprinted into the area or an object related to the incident—like a recording of the event almost.” Giles explained as he took over once again, “If another vampire experiences a similarly traumatic incident in the same area they can sometimes absorb those memories. It would appear that Simone imprinted the memories of her Second Turning into her surroundings and you absorbed them during your Embracement.”

“So, what I saw actually happened?” Buffy asked.

Both Darla and Giles nodded, “It would seem so,” Giles agreed.

“Can this help us at all?” Spike questioned.

“I wouldn’t think so. We already knew that Silas was cremated during Simone’s Second Turning and that he was later resurrected,” Giles said absently as his mind wandered back over all the information they had managed to scrape up thus far.

“We need more to work with,” Angelus said in frustration. “We need to know more about Simone and Silas. At the moment all we have is speculation on why he wants Buffy, nothing solid.”

“Are you telling me that the vampire who kidnapped me is actually Silas, the vampire who turned Simone?” Buffy asked in disbelief. She looked around the room as the others nodded. “How old is this vampire?”

“Old,” Spike said in a tone of voice that told her she didn’t want to know the exact answer.

“But you have theories about why he’s after me?” Buffy asked.

“Theory. Singular.” Spike snorted, “And we can’t be sure that it’s the truth.”

“We think that Silas believes you are Simone reincarnated. He was her sire and he was in love with her, or so the story goes,” Darla explained easily. “If you believe the theory that vampires harbour a hybrid soul made from that of a human and a demon, then it is possible that you have her soul. We can’t be sure though.”

“He thinks I’m a reincarnation of Simone, with whom he was in love?” Buffy asked in disbelief. “Why? I look nothing like her!”

A pointed silence descended over a group.

“You know, that is actually an amazingly good point,” Giles said, quickly reaching for one of the many books spread throughout the room and flipping to a page that had a painting of Simone’s likeness on it. Together the group studied it, their eyes flicking between the image on the page and the fledgling childe sitting before them.

“You’re right. You look nothing like her,” Spike said to Buffy finally. “Which brings us to the question of why he suspected you to be her reincarnation in the first place, doesn’t it?”

“He didn’t though,” Angelus said suddenly, picking up the train of thought running through the group. “He suspected her mother. Christian placed he familial claim on Joyce before she had even given birth to Buffy.”

“He didn’t turn Joyce though,” Giles put in.

“Exactly!” Angelus continued, “So if they knew Joyce wasn’t the match, why put a claim on her that extends to any children she may have in the future if they—”

“If they didn’t have some reason to suspect the bloodline,” Darla finished for him. Darla turned to Buffy, “Your family must some how be related to Simone via her human ties.”

“You think I’m somehow related to Simone through my human family?” Buffy asked in disbelief. “This is too weird,” she said as she lent into Spike and he curled a comforting arm around her waist.

“So we need to get access to Buffy’s family history somehow. Giles, can you get access to any files on it from work?” Angelus asked.

Giles shook his head. “We don’t keep a record of a client’s family history. I might know someone who could help us though. She is a witch and very good at what she does; she might be able to perform some type of lineage spell to determine whether or not Simone is related to Buffy.”

Angelus and Giles stared at one another for a moment, locked in a silent debate over bringing someone else into their search. Finally Angelus relented. “She’s trustworthy?”

“She is,” Giles replied.


*****


Angelus sighed heavily as he felt Spike’s signature slip through the door behind him. He had stepped outside for ‘some air’ and a chance to take a break from scanning through book after book for any scrap of information that might be useful. So far they hadn’t come up with anything more than what they had already gathered.

Somehow he had known that his childe would follow him out once he left the room. He wore his emotions on his face ninety percent of the time and this instance was no different—he wanted to ask permission to take a request to be mated to the Master.

“No,” Angelus answered before Spike had even asked the question he knew was coming.

Spike stared at his sire completely stunned by his adamant refusal. “Why the bloody hell not?”

Angelus threw his hands up in frustration and spun on his heel to face his childe. “I can’t believe you would even think about asking me this now!”

Spike growled softly, careful not to make it sound like a challenge or outright defiance towards his sire—what he wanted was too important to let his volatile temper get in the way. “I can’t think of a better time to ask you! We both want to be mated, Angelus, and the sooner it’s done the safer she’ll be!”

“No, it will only put her in more danger! Why can’t you see that?” Angelus snapped impatiently. “Mating with Buffy now is only going to put us in more of a mess than we are already in.”

“I’m not worried about the mess, I’m worried about the woman I love!” Spike snarled heatedly at his sire.

“Well you should be worried about the mess, because it concerns the woman you love.” Angelus held his childe’s gaze as they stared each other down, neither willing to budge on the subject. Angelus loved his childe, truly he did, but there where times that he was so stubborn and blind to the truth that is drove him insane. “Christian marked Buffy’s mother. If the familial claim still holds over her and her kin—as Christian maintains it does—Buffy technically belongs to them and if they take us to the tribunal they would win and she would be theirs. It wouldn’t matter if she was your mate or not, their claim was placed first and it would hold precedence over your mating. If that happens, how long do you think you’d last once you were forced into separation? What kind of problems do you think that would create not only for Buffy but for your clan?”

“But—” Spike started, ready to square off with his sire again.

“Think about it, Spike. Silas wants her for himself, how do you think he is going to react when he feels your claim? When he sees your marks on her throat? How would you react if you saw his marks permanently branded on her neck?”

Spike deflated and sunk down into a nearby garden chair in the courtyard, “What if it were Darla? How would you feel were our positions swapped?”

Angelus sighed heavily. “I’m not saying you have to like the situation you’re in—hell, I’d think there was something wrong if you were okay with this—but you’d only be aggravating things. The answer is no.”

Spike turned his head away from his sire. His teeth were clenched in an effort not to react, not to yell and rampage about the unfairness of the situation, or worse, burst into tears.

“I know it’s hard, Will,” Angelus continued more gently. “I went through hell trying to convince the Master to let me mate with Darla. She was his favourite childe, and let’s just say he was more than reluctant to let her go. We’ll get through his though, and as soon as this has all passed I give you permission to take your request to the Master.”

Spike nodded, looking down at the hand resting on his shoulder. He couldn’t meet his sire’s gaze, yet somehow watching his hand was connection enough. “Thank you, sire.”

“You shouldn’t have slept with her you know,” Angelus said after a long silence had passed between them. “Not when we have no idea of how Silas will react to such goading.”

Spike opened his mouth to interrupt in an angry tirade, but Angelus cut him off before he could begin. “I’m not trying to argue with you. It’s the truth. There isn’t anything that can be done about it now. Let’s just hope he doesn’t find out and do all we can in the meantime.”





AN: I know it has been an eternity since my last update, but I promise that I will try and get back into regular posting. Unfortunately, I have had to deal with certain RL issues lately that have kept me away from the computer and writing for sometime. That said, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and hadn't forgotten too much of what had happened previously. Finally, a massive thanks to Andrea for the beta as always *hugs*

Chapter 20



Spike watched his lover from the doorway as she finished talking to her sister over the phone. The littlest Summers girl was still staying at the Mansion after they had tried to take her home only to find a note left by her mother saying that she would be out of town for a few weeks on business. They hadn’t asked any questions, merely packed a bag for the teen and driven her straight back to the Mansion.

Spike pushed himself off from against the doorframe as Buffy replaced the phone in its cradle and made his way into the room to crawl across the bed and settle in behind her.

“Everything okay with the Nibblet?” he asked, as his arms encircled her waist and his nose found its way into her hair.

“She’s fine,” Buffy replied as she lent back further into his embrace. “Drusilla has been keeping her occupied.”

Spike let a deep chuckle escape his chest.

Buffy smiled as she shifted in his arms until she could see his face. “Did you talk to Angelus? He was so angry at us earlier, I wasn’t sure whether you’d ask him about the mating.”

“I spoke to him, kitten.” Spike placed a soft kiss against the skin of her throat where he had bitten her the night before—where he would bite her the night he finally claimed her. “He gave us his permission to take our request to the Master, but only once this disaster is over and done with. Angelus thinks it’s dangerous for us to think about mating now with Silas after you and all.”

Buffy nodded her head in agreement. “But he agreed?”

“He agreed, pet,” Spike said as he brought their lips together. He let the kiss linger over her lips as his thumb caressed the length of her cheekbone. “Giles’ witchy friend should be here soon, it’s almost eleven.”

Buffy hummed softly in agreement. “I’m not sure what they’re hoping to find. I’m either related to her or I’m not; at this point does it really matter?”

“It would be nice to confirm at least part of our theory,” he replied. “I know I would like the assurance that everything that we are doing to keep you safe isn’t just based around speculation.”

“Does it bother you at all? That I might have a piece of another woman’s soul in me? That Silas believes I am the vampire he fell in love with centuries and centuries ago?” Buffy asked as she chewed nervously on her lower lip.

Spike shook his head. “No.”

Buffy frowned. “That’s it? Just no?”

“You might have a piece Simone’s soul in you—her human soul at that—but there is no doubt in my mind that you are most definitely your own woman, and one hell of a woman too, I might add,” Spike said as he smirked at her. “It was never even a possibility that you are not completely you. A person is shaped by the environment they live in and the things they experience. You’ve lived a different life to what she did, you have a different name and you even look different. No matter what Silas believes, you are not her. So no, it doesn’t bother me in the slightest.”

“Wow,” Buffy noted, “when you put it that way…”

“You’re still you, kitten,” Spike said, picking up on what was she was thinking.

Buffy smiled at him. “I know. It’s a lot to take in though. Now not only is the bad guy after me, but the bad guy is after me because he is convinced I am his dead lover who may or may not have loved him back. I just wish things would stop spinning. I keep waiting for things to settle down, but I feel like I have been constantly running on high alert ever since the night I was turned.”

Spike was silent as he felt her body wilt against his. He was quiet for a moment longer as his hand ran though her hair absently. “Then when this is over, why don’t you and I leave? We’ll head off somewhere quiet together where we can just rest and be together without this mess hovering over us.”

Buffy shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to be responsible for tearing you away from the Clan. I know I said I was thinking about it, but that was before you asked me to marry you.”

“The Clan will always be there for us, sweetheart. It doesn’t have to be anything permanent, however long you want.”

“I’ve always wanted to travel Europe, or get a little house somewhere out in the country,” she agreed tentatively. “But I’ve got Dawn to look out for, especially since my mother thinks it’s okay to leave her for weeks at a time without warning.”

Spike ran his hands up and down her arms reassuringly, “The Clan will look after your sister. We’re your family now, and we look after our own, which includes Dawn.”

“I’ll think about it. Who knows what will happen before this thing is over with,” Buffy said as she lent her head back to smile up at him.

“Who knows,” Spike agreed as they heard Giles downstairs answering the front door. “Just think about it, kitten. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”


*****


Tara Maclay stood nervously on the front step of Mr. Giles’ apartment as the door swung inwards and the man in question greeted her with a kind smile.

“Tara, come in,” Giles said warmly as he stepped back to allow her passage into the room.

Tara smiled at her co-worker and stepped gracefully across the threshold of the small apartment. Her eyes immediately zoned in on the four vampiric presences in the room. She had known that they would be here—after all, Mr. Giles had called her in order to ask for her help on their behalf. Vampires had always made her twitchy though, despite the fact that she worked with them and all kinds of other demons and magical creatures on a daily basis.

The four standing before her were powerful. The air around them was practically humming with their combined strength, but it was their close familial ties that truly made them a force to be reckoned with. Love, in one form or another, flowed between all four of them, and that in some cases could prove to be more powerful than any supernatural strength they may or may not have.

“This is Tara Maclay, a colleague of mine,” Giles said as he stepped forward to make introductions. “Tara, this is Darla, Angelus, Spike and Buffy of the Order of Aurelius.”

“We’re pleased to make your acquaintance,” Darla said as she stepped forward to hold out her hand.

“I-it’s very nice to meet you, too,” Tara said as she slipped her hand into the cooler one extended to her after only a slight hesitation. “You wanted my help?”

“Yes,” Giles continued, “Do you know of any spells used to determine one’s ancestral line? We’re trying to find out if a certain vampire is related in any way to Buffy through her human blood line.”

Tara nodded as Giles shut the door behind her and they moved further into the apartment. “There is a spell, but I’ll need something that belongs to the vampire you’re looking to find.”

“We don’t have anything. The vampire we’re looking for is deceased,” Spike spoke up, smiling at the young witch.

Tara gave him an odd look. “And here I thought all vampires were considered deceased,” she delivered softly.

Spike threw his head back and laughed loudly. “That we are, pet. I meant that she’d been dusted.”

“I know,” Tara said offering him a small smile. “I can’t do the spell though unless I have something that belonged to her. I need something to ground me to her signature otherwise I won’t be able to find her. Sorry.”

A silence settled over the group as they absorbed the information. Angelus swore softly under his breath as he turned away from them and went to stand by the window to look out over the small courtyard.

“What about back at the Mansion?” Spike asked.

“You want to take something from the vault?” Darla asked with one eyebrow raised. Spike hesitated for a spilt second before nodding. Darla let out an amused chuckle. “You are either very brave or incredibly stupid. Somehow I’m leaning towards the latter.”

“Where else will we find something belonging to a vampire that’s been dead for over a thousand years?” Spike asked angrily.

“My soul,” Buffy said suddenly. “I have part of her soul, don’t I? Can’t you lock onto her signature via that?”

Tara shook her head. “It’s not that simple. You may have her soul, but you’ve lived with it long enough that you would have changed the feel of its signature. Not to mention the addition of your demon into it.”

“It’s only a theory, anyway,” Angelus said as he sighed and turned to face them once more. “Granted it’s the only theory we have, but it is still only a theory. We have no proof.”

“So we take something from the vault, then,” Spike said firmly.

“You can’t expect to just walk in and take something from the Aurelius vault and walk out again without being questioned. It is forbidden to remove any artefact from inside,” Angelus said in frustration.

“I didn’t expect to just walk in and out again. Someone will have to create a distraction, while two of us slip in and out unnoticed,” Spike said as he began to gain more confidence. “It’s our only option at the moment.”

Darla sighed, “Unfortunately, he has a point. For now the three of us can head back to the Mansion and check things out. We can decide once we’re there what will happen. In the mean time…Tara, if you don’t mind, perhaps you could gather the things you will need to perform the spell? You’ll have until tomorrow night to get everything you’ll need. Is everyone okay with that plan?”

Reluctant nods were drawn from everyone throughout the room.

“Good. Angelus, Spike, we need to head back to the Mansion. We won’t have much time to plan and execute whatever we decided upon.”

Spike turned to Buffy and pulled her into his arms to kiss her quickly. “We’ll be back as soon as possible. I promise.”

Buffy smiled, “Okay.”

She placed another quick peck to his lips and stepped out of his arms. The three vampires made the exit quickly and disappeared into the night once more.

“I, um, guess I’ll be going too,” Tara said softly. “See you tomorrow night.”

The young witch practically fled from the room in her haste to exit, leaving Giles and Buffy standing separately in the living room of the ex-Watcher’s apartment staring at the door after them.

“Well, then,” Giles said as he came back to himself. “Tea?”


*****


Restricted Access to Vampires

Silas’ minions stood at the entrance of a small rehabilitation village for vampire junkies. The trail had almost run cold—by now it was practically non-existent—but they had managed to track her to the entrance of a vampire prohibited area. It was both the best and worst decision she could have made. If they followed her in, her trail would easily be followed, as it would be the only vampire signature in the area despite how long it might have had to fade. If they were caught, however, they risked being sent before a disciplinary hearing or even facing a possible dusting depending on the state of their current record.

They would follow her in of course—they had little choice in the matter. When Silas’ had sent them out, he had made it clear they were not to return unless they had found Buffy Summers or knew where she was.

As if by some silent mutual agreement, one by one they slowly made their way over the fence and into the village. When it came down to it, they were only minions and they had been given orders; the choice had already been made for them.


AN: Hope everyone enjoyed the update. Big thanks to Andrea for the beta :D Thank you also for all your reviews :D

Chapter 21



Christian’s nerves were racing. He knew that if his heart was still able to beat, it would be pounding under the onslaught of adrenaline that was racing its way through his body. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with unneeded air before letting it out in a whoosh. It was a habit—a calming ritual he had picked up from the humans he had lived amongst over the centuries. It did nothing for him physically, but mentally it helped him prepare himself and allowed him to think more clearly—and hell, did he need to be sure he was thinking clearly. There was no going back after this, regret would be too mild of a word for what he would feel if later he found that he had made the most colossal mistake of his existence.

Christian ran an anxious hand through his hair as his mind raced over what he was about to do for the thousandth time. It flew in the face of everything he had ever known, and went against everything he had stood for since the night of his turning. The confidence that he usually wrapped around himself was absent. Everything of any importance that had happened in his existence had possessed a known outcome. He had known where he would end up when things had settled and that knowledge had given him the assurance he had needed to carry him through. Now he was standing out on a limb, in the dark and with nothing to hold onto if he fell.

The Aurelius mansion loomed in the distance, both a symbol of hope and something more foreboding that seemed to sit unmoving in the centre of his stomach making him regret his last feeding. Even his apprehension wasn’t enough to turn him away from the prize it offered, however, because his hope for something more far out shone the negative.

All his existence he had followed Silas, his master and sire. His own wants and desires had come second; the notion of making a childe had been out of the question, though it had been a subject that Christian had raised more than once. Buffy had made him see what he had been missing. Her interactions with Angelus had made him realise what it really meant to have a childe of his own, and he wanted it more than ever.

Christian had always believed that there would be time later to do the things he had always wanted to do. That once Silas had found Simone, he’d be free to carry on with his own existence. But nearly four hundred years after his turning, he was beginning to realise that Silas’s obsession wasn’t ever going to end. They had been so close so many times, and each time he had come that much closer to freedom, yet things never worked out. Things with Silas and Simone weren’t meant to work out.

Christian wanted things. He wanted things he was never going to get as long as he was Silas’s right hand man. He wanted a childe. If nothing else, in time, he knew he’d be free to do what he wanted with the Aurelians. That freedom had never been an option with Silas and never would be.

The faint buzz of a motor reached his ears and he readied himself for the confrontation that was about to occur. A spear of doubt lanced through him viciously before he ruthlessly shoved it aside. He would carry through with it, this was what he wanted.


*****


“You’re stupid. I’ve always thought you were, you know,” Angelus said to his childe as he climbed out of the car and slammed its door shut behind him. “It is going to take more than just one of us walking in, pilfering an item and walking out again. It’s a vault for fuck’s sake, it’s got protective shields surrounding it that are as thick as your God damned skull!”

A small frustrated growl escaped Spike’s mouth as he slammed his own car door shut harshly. “I know that, you git. It was a suggestion—the only one we’ve heard thus far, I might add. I don’t hear you coming up with any bright ideas.”

“That’s because I’m having trouble getting over the fact that you even contemplated breaking into the vault,” Angelus spat out condescendingly.

Spike smirked nastily at his sire. “Well, you always have had trouble getting over things, haven’t you?”

Angelus snarled and Spike suddenly found himself backed up against the car with his sire’s hand gripped tightly around his throat. “You’d do well to remember your place, childe.”

“Can’t handle the truth?” Spike forced out of his nearly crushed throat.

Angelus’ vicious growl was cut off abruptly as his sire’s voice cut through their bickering.

“Boys,” Darla cut in firmly. “You can play later. It appears we have company,” she finished in a pleasant tone as she turned to face their guest.

Sneering, Angelus gave one final harsh squeeze before forcefully dropping his hand from Spike’s throat, and all three vampires turned to watch as a figure made its way towards them from beneath the shadows cast by the front gate.

Spike arched an eyebrow as Christian slowly emerged from the darkness. He looked shorter, less cocky somehow, and although he hid it well, apprehension clung to his every movement.

“To what occasion,” Angelus began easily as he watched Christian’s approach intently, “do we owe the honour of your company tonight, might I ask?”

Christian stilled several feet away from them and watched with some small quirk of amusement as they discreetly positioned themselves so that they were each protecting one another.

“I’m not here on business,” Christian intoned flatly.

Darla gave a soft laughed as she looked at him with an air of superiority and a smirk firmly planted across her face. “Pleasure, then? I was unaware the two were separate entities for you.”

Christian ignored the comment. “Silas doesn’t know I’m here. He believes I’m out looking for Buffy.”

“So that’s not why you’re here then,” Spike asked sarcastically, “to look for Buffy?”

Christian shook his head. “No, that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because I want out. I’m sick of being a slave to Silas’s crazy obsessions, and never being allowed to be a slave to my own. But I know that if I turn from Silas then I’ll be exiled from my own clan,” Christian trailed off.

“So you came to us,” Darla stated. “How sweet, coming to your enemy for help. What makes you think we’ll do anything to help you?”

“I can offer you all the information you need on Silas and his obsession with Simone. I know more than anyone else in the clan, and I know what he plans to do with Buffy,” Christian stated, looking them each in the eye.

“You want to exchange knowledge for our protection from you clan? Why not keep your knowledge and try to make it on your own?” Angelus asked.

“I don’t want your protection, I want your help. Either way, this needs to end and Silas needs to die. He’ll hunt me down regardless of where I go and before I take off I want to make damn sure that I don’t have an ancient on my tail,” Christian replied truthfully. “He may be weak and emaciated from self-neglect at the moment, but now that he’s found Buffy he’ll start feeding regularly again. It’s almost ritualistic, human victims only rather than just blood donors to help speed his recovery. Before long he will be returned to what he once was and then it’ll take more than just the four of us to even attempt to bring him down.”

“Why is he so bent on having Buffy for his own?” Angelus asked, pushing aside his animosity for the vampire before him in the face of the knowledge he was being given.

Christian chuckled. “Uh-uh, not until I know that I have your word that you’ll help work with me to bring Silas down.”

There was a weighted silence as each of them considered their options.

Darla was the first to speak. “We will require a blood oath that binds you to us and prevents you from working against us until Silas is dead and your word that what you speak is truth and not some ploy to get at what doesn’t belong to you or to sabotage our own plans to keep Buffy safe.”

“If that’s what it takes,” Christian agreed. “Now?”

Darla nodded. Together—their movements almost synchronised—they each struck, sinking their incisors harshly into the palm of their own right hand, causing blood to blossom from the wounds. Darla held her hand out and Christian grasped it firmly with his own, their blood mingling in the centre.

“Your oath to Aurelius,” she said firmly.

“My word in blood,” Christian replied in a strong voice, his eyes never wavering under the weight of her gaze.

A small growl was torn from his lips as the oath was completed and he pulled his hand away to inspect the small branding left in the centre of his palm. The Aurelian Crest.

“Looks like you’re with us now, Chris,” Spike said, with a smirk firmly planted across his face.

Christian snarled at him.

Spike laughed. “Now, now. It’s not nice to growl at your allies.”

Angelus clapped a heavy hand down on his childe’s shoulder. “Looks like a better idea came up after all, Spikey. No need to break into the vault now, is there? Christian here has all the information we’ll need.”

“Shove off, Peaches,” Spike said as he shrugged off his sire’s hand. “It was still more than I heard you coming up with.”

Angelus growled but let the comment slide. “Come on, we should be getting back to Giles’s apartment since there is nothing here that we need.”

“I thought I’d take the Nibblet back with us. Buffy hasn’t seen her since that night she was taken.” Spike shot a glare in Christian’s direction.

“Be quick,” Angelus said, even as Spike broke away from their small group to head inside.


*****


Giles was elbows deep in research papers and texts when he heard someone knock on his front door. So used to keeping nocturnal hours due to his vampire companions, it didn’t even register that it was too late for someone to be visiting. The only thought that occurred to him was perhaps Angelus, Darla and Spike had been unsuccessful in their bid to retrieve something from the vault at the mansion and instead decided to return to help continue research on the elusive Silas and his childe Simone.

Draining the remaining liquid from what was once a glass of scotch, Giles pushed himself to his feet wearily and made his way to the door. He was surprised to see a young man on the other side when he opened it.

“Uh, hello,” Giles said warily as he pushed his glasses further onto his face so he could get a better look at the man standing before him.

“Hi, I’m Riley Finn,” the man said, holding out his hand to the ex-Watcher who ignored it and continued to stare at the man before him. Riley nodded and dropped his hand awkwardly before continuing with a friendly smile. “I was wondering if Buffy was here?”

“Buffy?” Giles asked, feigning ignorance to the name.

“Buffy Summers?” Riley elaborated.

Giles frowned. “Why do you ask?”

An apologetic look spread over Riley’s face. “Oh, I’m sorry. I assumed she would have mentioned me. I’m the guy that helped her get away the other night. I, ah, overheard her saying on the phone that she was heading to a Mr. Giles’s place before Spike came and got her. I just wanted to check on her and see if she was alright.”

Giles just stared at the man before him. “Are you aware that it’s one—”

Giles cut himself off mid speech as he heard Buffy enter the room, knowing that the man before him knew there was someone else there too.

“Riley?” Giles heard Buffy asked in confusion from somewhere behind him.

Giles wanted to cringe, knowing that his story had been blown before he realised the friendly, if not a little confused, tone in which Buffy had addressed the man.

“Riley, what are you doing here?” Buffy asked again.

Sighing and realising the game was up, but feeling better knowing that Buffy knew the man before him, Giles turned his attention back to Riley who was trying to see past both him and the door by raising himself up onto his toes so he could peer over the ex-Watcher’s head.

“Buffy, hi, how are you?” Riley replied with a bright smile.

Sighing again, Giles stepped back from the door so the man could see in. “Please, forgive my suspicion, it’s been a long few days,” Giles said with a tired but friendly smile. “Won’t you come in.”




AN: I want to apologise to everyone for my erratic updating schedule and the long delays that are sometimes between chapters. Thank you to you all for your patience. I promise that I am trying my hardest to find time to write and get each chapter posted.

Also, thank you to Andrea for beta’ing my work, and to everyone who has reviewed so far :D Hope you all enjoyed the chapter…

Chapter 22



“NO!”

Realisation hit, and time seemed to slow around them. Buffy saw Riley’s face morph—telltale vampire ridges erupted across the smooth line of his forehead and eyes, once cornflower blue, bled through to amber. She reached for Giles as she screamed her warning too late. The scotch glass in his hands slipped and smashed to floor, the heavy thump of his body following moments after. Less than a second after the damning words had left the ex-Watcher’s mouth, his throat had been brutally ripped from his body.

Buffy stood rooted to the spot, her unneeded breath coming in heavy gasping pants. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight of Giles’s lifeless body on the ground before her, his head held on by nothing more than the spine of his neck—something that was clearly visible through the gaping hole that had once been his throat. Buffy swallowed thickly. He was dead. Giles was dead. Riley had ripped his throat out right in front of her eyes.

Buffy’s eyes flicked up to meet Riley’s amber gaze as she realised he was watching her. His face was smattered in Giles’s blood, a sadistic smirk planted firmly across his features as he raised the offending hand to his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick a path through the blood that coated it.

“Oh God,” Buffy groaned as her own hand flew to her mouth as she felt her stomach rebel at the sight.

Riley laughed.

“Are you all right, Buffy?” He asked, his voice dripping with false concern. Lifting his leg he made a show of stepping over the ex-Watcher’s body as he crossed the threshold of the house. “Really, you’re not looking too good.”

Buffy watched as he drew nearer, unable to piece together the mental order her legs needed to move. It was if watching Giles die had turned her legs to stone. ‘Run, you idiot!’ she mentally screamed to herself. She jerked as if to move, but her body remained stationary.

“Some friends of yours came to visit me earlier tonight,” Riley began suddenly. “Mentioned something about being able to track your scent to my flat in the rehab centre? Anyway, it turns out they were more than willing to help me out with my little addiction. I was so grateful, as you can well imagine, especially after the state in which you left me.”

Buffy let out a warning growl. Riley paused briefly at the sound but chose to ignore it as he continued to advance on her, his face twisted by the demon that possessed his body. Her stomach rolled. She had done that to him; she was responsible for turning him into the monster that was slowly closing in on her. She was the reason Giles was now dead, the reason he was nothing more than a body that was slowly turning cold on the floor. Guilt ran screaming through her body. If only she hadn’t gone to Riley for help.

“The fun and games got a little carried away though. The next thing I know? I’m a vampire. I can’t say I mind though. I don’t think I have ever felt this good in my life. Wouldn’t you agree, Buffy?”

Buffy thought about it. No, she didn’t agree. She had felt dead when she had first been turned. Everything was too still—too quiet. She had missed the beat of her heart beneath the wall of her chest and the steady rise and fall of her breathing. Nothing had felt good about being a vampire when she had first awoken. Now, though? Now she had Spike, and she had become somewhat accustomed to the stillness of her body.

Buffy didn’t answer, but Riley didn’t seem to care one way or another.

“Never mind,” he waved the question off. “So, I wake up a vampire, which is great and all, but I’m told there is a catch. They weren’t going to let me keep this new me, unless I helped them kidnap you. Which, really? I had no problem agreeing to,” Riley continued, chuckling to himself. “I mean, if faced with the choice of either your life or betraying some girl you barely know, which do you think you are going to pick?”

“Kidnap? You’re going to try and kidnap me?” Buffy asked, finally finding her voice.

Riley smirked at her, “Oh, no. I’m going to succeed,” he said as he let out a snarl and lunged at her.

Buffy gasped and jumped back out of his reach, barely missing the swing of his hands as they tried to grab at her. As it was, a bloody smear was left down her arm as his fingers managed to graze her skin. Buffy tried to ignore it, focusing her attention on the vampire before her. She may have been a childe, but he was a minion, which meant that everything she had had to learn—was still learning—about fighting, he knew innately. She knew if it really came down to it, the only chance she’d have was if her demon took free reign as it had the night she had escaped from Silas.

“Try to run,” he goaded trying to get a rise out of her.

“Don’t worry, I will,” she answered honestly. Everything seemed to ache in protest as she dodged his hands again, her body still fighting to revive itself from the shock it had gone into. She stumbled slightly as the back of her knees hit the coffee table and she had to throw her hands back to steady herself. As she did, she felt the cool glass of Giles’ scotch bottle under her finger tips and in a split second decision her hand closed around it discreetly.

She watched him as he straightened himself out and smirked at her. “Uh-oh, looks like someone’s cornered,” he said mockingly.

“Looks like I am,” she agreed, lifting the bottle from the table gently as she straightened up again. She watched as he began making his way towards her, waiting until he was within arms reach before she swung. The moment he was close enough she hauled her arm up and around, sending the bottle careening into the vampire’s head with as much force as she could muster.

The glass shattered on impact sending him stumbling to his knees. Buffy dropped what remained of the bottle and bolted for the stairs.

Riley’s hand shot out, grabbing her ankle in a desperate attempt to keep her from getting away, sending her tumbling to the floor. Her head connected forcefully with the corner of the coffee table on the way down. Pain burst through her head and she felt the warm trickle of blood begin to leak down her face.

It was as she lay there—face down on the floor amongst a pile of Giles’s scattered paper work, with blood trickling into her eyes—that she sensed him. Groaning softly she tried to push herself to her feet, even as dizziness threatened to overwhelm her. There were few vampires that she had been around who had a signature strong enough for her underdeveloped senses to pick up. Fewer still, who were not a member of her clan. Only one which left her feeling sick to her stomach.

Silas.

She cried out as Riley’s knee slammed forcefully into her back, pressing her body mercilessly into the floor. She struggled against his hold, only to have her face pushed harder into the ground beneath her.

Riley laughed as he leant over her, lowering his mouth to her ear. “Game over.”


*****


The car trip was made in silence. Christian in the front passenger seat and Dawn wedged in between Spike and Darla in the back. The teen had been severely put out when she had learned who Christian was, or more importantly, that he used to be the enemy. She had been throwing him venomous looks ever since and even then Christian could feel the weight of her eyes burning into his back.

The younger Summers girl was a spitfire, much like he knew her sister to be. Dawn was beautiful like her sister too, although her appeal was radically different. She was darker, her eyes bigger and more doe like. Innocence practically radiated from her, although at the same time she exuded an air of sensuality. He had always known teenagers to be sexual beings, especially when they were at the time of their life where sex became such an important aspect to almost everything they did, but Dawn seemed different though. She presented a heady mix of a teenager who was on the verge of becoming a woman.

Christian smiled. She would make a stunning childe.

The notion was an appealing one. He could imagine having someone like her at his side for eternity—someone who had a personality, someone who had a sense of life in them. The more he pondered the idea, the more appealing it seemed to become.

She was of age to be turned—although admittedly only just—but he knew that it would be a hard task to convincer her. She had to want to be his childe. He wouldn’t have it any other way. Her dislike of him was more than obvious, however. She hated him on principle for hurting her sister, yet even knowing that, Christian couldn’t find it in himself to be deterred. Her abhorrence of him only made her that much more appealing. He didn’t want a childe that would fall at his feet in obedience. He wanted someone with fight in them, someone who would stand up for themselves and not let him walk all over them.

Christian wanted a challenge, something to focus his energies on once they had dealt with Silas. If he was right in his judgement, Dawn was exactly what he was looking for.

A long sigh came from the backseat. “Where does this guy live, anyway?

“We’re not far, Dawn,” Angelus replied as he effortlessly steered the car around a corner.

Dawn rolled her eyes, “Good to know. Only, that’s not what—”

The squeal of tires on the road cut her off mid speech as Angelus slammed on the brakes. Dawn screamed as she was thrown forward in her seat, her seatbelt cutting into the skin of her neck as the car came to a skidding halt in the centre of the road. She let a small ‘oof’ as she was flung back into her seat with the momentum of the car. The smell of burnt rubber filled the air.

Silas’s signature slammed into all four vampires simultaneously.

“Is that…?” Angelus trailed off.

Christian nodded. “Silas,” he finished for him.

Dawn was looking from vampire to vampire in confusion. “Silas? The vamp that’s after Buffy? He’s here?” She asked. They ignored her.

“You son of a bitch,” Spike snarled, lunging forward in his seat to try and get at Christian. “You knew!”

Christian snarled back at him. “I knew nothing!”

“You bastard!” Spike growled as he slipped into his game face. He was pulled harshly back into his seat by a strong hand before he could reach the other vampire.

“Spike, he’s telling the truth—he’s got to be. If he knew, we wouldn’t have been able to complete the oath,” Darla cut across them firmly.

Spike glared at Christian, but didn’t refute his grandsire’s remark.

“What’s going on?” Dawn asked. Spike shook his head in answer.

“Is he still here? Or is this merely the lingering trace of his signature?” Darla questioned Christian who was still watching Spike warily.

“I’m not sure. It’s strong. He may be still here,” Christian replied.

“I don’t care what you did or didn’t know. If he’s taken her, or done something to her, I will ram a stake through your fucking heart,” Spike threatened Christian with angry and fearful amber eyes.

“If he’s there, how close can we get before he will have sensed us?” Angelus asked the vampire beside him.

“It’s too late for that. He would have been able to feel us coming from miles away. If he’s there then he knows we’re here,” Christian stated grimly.

“Then we can assume that he also knows you’ve defected. Fuck!” Angelus yelled as he hit the steering wheel in anger. “When will something in this God damned disaster start going right! We have nothing going for us, and the longer we wait the more danger we’re putting Buffy in.”

Shoving the car into gear, Angelus put his foot down on the accelerator.

“You’re just planning to go in there and meet him head on?” Christian asked in disbelief as the car lurched and sped of down the street towards Giles’s house.

“You got a better plan, Chris?” Spike asked snidely from the backseat.

Christian swivelled around to look at Spike like he was mental. “Are you mad? You are going to get yourselves killed!” He yelled, “Silas is an Ancient!”

Spike smirked at him. “Yeah? Well, guess what? That branding on your hand says you’re coming in with us. So, suck it pretty boy.”

“What about me?” Dawn asked quietly. The fear she felt for herself and for her sister was easily sensed in the small confines of the car.

“You’ll stay with me,” Darla said as she wrapped a comforting arm around the teen’s shoulders. “You don’t need to be seeing what might happen inside. We girls will let the boys do all the work.”

Spike looked down at the young girl beside him. Buffy’s sister. “I won’t let him take her without a fight, Nibblet. I promise.”

Her small hand found his and she gripped it tightly, her knuckles turning white with the strength of it. Spike looked down at her hand and squeezed back gently in reassurance, gaining as much from the small act as she had.

“I promise,” he repeated as the car rolled to a stop out side Giles’ apartment.


AN: Thank you Andrea for the beta, and thank you to everyone for all your comments :D I hope you enjoyed the chapter…feedback?

Chapter 23


The air around her was thick with Silas’ steadily growing presence. It pounded into her in waves, making her stomach roll threateningly. There was something about the feeling of his presences that made her feel sick—beyond that of the memory of his hands against her skin and what he might have planned for her.

Buffy struggled vainly against the knee that was bruising her back, twisting against Riley’s hold and the tight grip he had on her arms and the back of her head. He grunted but didn’t shift, instead his fingers gripped her more tightly and she whimpered as he ground his knee painfully down into her back.

Buffy felt herself switch from desperate to panicked in the blink of an eye. She was trapped; Riley held her almost completely immobile and vulnerable to any attack from above. She felt her demon surge within her and she almost cried out in relief as the Buffy part of her passively stepped back and let it take over.

Her demon snarled threateningly as it burst across her features and hardened her determination as her survival instincts kicked into gear. It was like releasing a caged and tormented lion that charged for freedom the moment the cage door was opened only to find it was still chained to the ground. Her demon whimpered and growled pitiful as she violently bucked and twisted against Riley’s hold. Tears she had managed to hold at bay until now began to leak down her face; she knew with absolute certainty that she could not still be here when Silas arrived.

Riley growled and Buffy cried out as his sharpened nails began to dig painfully into her flesh.

“Get off me! Please, let me go!” She growled doing nothing to keep the desperation from leaking into her voice. She felt the hand that held the back of her head loosen, and for one glorious moment she could almost believe that he had listened to her. The moment was shattered as his hand twisted painfully in her hair again, yanking her head back up off the ground with a snarl as he lowered his mouth to her ear.

“No,” he growled before brutally slamming her head into the floor below. Buffy went limp in his grasp as she slipped effortlessly into oblivion.


*****


Silas’ eyes zeroed in on Buffy’s form as he stepped over the threshold to the small apartment. She was magnificent—even stretched out unconscious along the floor, blood pooling under her head, more than likely from a wound she had sustained on her forehead. He felt a small twinge of annoyance lance through him that she had been damaged but he pushed it aside—it would heal. Soon she would be his again.

The minion that had held her scuttled back as Silas swept over to her, crouching by her side and rolling her carefully onto her back. Blood was still sluggishly oozing from her wound and trailing down the side of her face, staining her hair and clothes a glorious red. He reached out gently and traced his fingers down the line of her cheek, before he lifted them absently to his mouth.

She would be his.

He had intended to perform a Second Turning on her before the Mating just as the Aurelians had done to her when they had ripped her from his side over a millennium ago. If Silas had learnt one thing from surviving for as long as he had, it was that nothing ever went exactly as planned. He had run out of time to go through the necessary process of performing both a Second Turning and a Mating Ceremony. It didn’t matter though; one way or another she would be his by the end of the night.

Scooping her limp form up into his arms he turned and laid her out along the length of the ex-Watcher’s coffee table after sending its contents clattering to the floor.

“Restrain her,” he snapped at two minions who stood with a group of minions who had loitered just inside the door of the apartment. “The rest of you get to work on preparing the room for the ritual.”

Silas watched with an air of anticipation as they moved quickly and efficiently to follow his orders. The area was cleared of the mounds of books and papers that littered the small space and the furniture pushed to the sides of the room. A ring of black candles was quickly laid out in a circle around Buffy’s form which lay strapped down to the coffee table in the centre of the room. Later he would pour a ring of sand around that again which would act as a protection barrier ensuring that once the ritual had begun, nothing—and no one—would be able to get within it to stop the proceedings from occurring.

A satisfied smile made its way across his face at the thought.

“Sire?”

Silas looked down at the minion who stood before him, head lowered in submission. “Yes?”

“We’re ready,” the minion replied.

Silas took the proffered bag of sand and stepped into the circle. The lights in the room were switched off and the room was plunged into partial darkness. The ring of black candles glowed eerily, set around the pair of them like a burning halo. They were the only source of illumination in the room, making the forms of his minions look like shadows stretched out along the walls.

Suddenly, a tingle of awareness prickled over him and a slow smirk erupted across his face. Taking a deep unneeded breath Silas began to pour the sand.

The Aurelians were on their way.


*****


Spike had exited the car before the wheels had come to a complete stop. He could feel the tingle of Buffy’s presence nearby, and the thought of that monster having his hands on her was more than he cared to think about. The metallic smell of blood was thick in the air, and although the majority of what he smelt didn’t belong to Buffy, there was an undertone of her scent within it.

He could hear both Angelus and Christian following behind him as his feet carried him swiftly down the stairs and into the small courtyard that led to Giles’ front door. He felt something like shock jolt through him as his eyes landed on the lifeless orbs of the man in question. Giles was dead. A prickling sensation seemed to break out across his skin as the fact slammed into him with the cold hard truth of the body lying before him, yet despite that, Spike’s pace never slowed as he neared. He knew that later, if he made it through to the end of this disaster with Silas, that he would grieve for the loss of this man, if only for the fact that he had helped them in their quest to save Buffy, but now was not the time for such feelings.

Spike stepped over Giles’ body with ease as he reached for the door that stood partially open. He knew what he was likely to find behind the door, he knew that Silas’ lingering presence must mean that they had Buffy in some way, but nothing could have prepared him for what stood beyond that door.

Spike ground to a complete stop as he took in the sight of Buffy and he felt his rage boil over. The slight hesitation cost him, giving Silas the time he needed to complete the circle of sand that now surrounded both Buffy’s prone form and the Ancient who stood at her side. Silas turned to Spike with a smug smile and threw a bag of sand at his feet. The red coloured grains spilled out over his shoes to puddle on the floor around him.

“She’s mine,” Silas growled possessively, the note of triumph in his voice easily noted.

“She’ll never be yours,” Spike growled back as he heard Angelus and Christian enter the room behind him.

“She’s always been mine,” Silas countered as he moved to Buffy’s side and brushed her hair back from her face before allowing his fingers to trail down her face and neck to rest gently over the place he hand chosen to mark her. “She will always be mine. Only mine.”

“Get your hands off her,” Spike snarled.

Silas smirked at Spike as he leant over slowly and let his lips graze the taut skin of Buffy’s throat teasingly. “Try and stop me,” he goaded as he leant in and let his lips brush softly across hers.

Spike took the bait and charged at the circle. Silas’ smirk widened into a grin as the vampire slammed forcefully into the protective barrier that had been erected around him and Buffy and was thrown backwards violently.

Spike blanched as he looked back at the undisturbed ring of sand and a sickly wave of comprehension washed over him. Silas had blocked him out, leaving him with no means of reaching Buffy’s side. She was trapped within the confines of the circle with a monster.

A restraining hand wrapped itself around Spike’s elbow and he felt Angelus’ presence at his side. “So you have her, now what do you plan on doing with her?” His sire asked as he made his presence known to the Ancient. “You know a Second Turning will only work if both parties are willing, and somehow I don’t think she’s willing. It might just be me, but usually if you have to strap someone down to keep them from trying to escape, then they don’t want to be there.”

“Oh? Well I guess you would know, wouldn’t you Angelus?” Silas smirked.

Angelus ignored the bait, “You didn’t answer my question.”

Silas smiled at him but remained silent, instead turning his attention back to the woman laid out before him, his beloved. He swept her blond hair back from her face and neck and turned her head to the side, exposing the taut skin of her throat. Finally the moment had come, and everything he had been longing for would at last be fulfilled. He morphed into his demon and struck.

Silas ignored Spike’s enraged growls, as rich blood blossomed into his mouth. Moaning in ecstasy, he swallowed mouthful after mouthful. He could feel the blood working its way through his system, healing his neglected body and restoring him to his former glory. The room around him fell away as he drank deeper and deeper. It was almost poetic that it was her loss that had emaciated him and it would be her blood that restored him.

Finally he tore his mouth away from her neck, forcing himself to stop before he went too far and the ritual that would bind them could no longer be completed.

He glanced up at the Aurelians and his former second in command and smiled at the devastation he saw written across their faces. He gave the nod to his minions but didn’t bother to watch as they advanced on the trio; he knew a couple of minions wouldn’t take them out but they would provide enough of a distraction. Silas smiled down at the woman before him. Finally he was taking back what had always been rightfully his, and that’s all that mattered.


*****


Christian watched on with an odd sort of detachment as things began to fall apart around them. They had no choice but to fight off the minions that advanced on them. Spike ripped into them with a rage like Christian doubted he had ever seen. He was moving from minion to minion literally tearing their heads off with his bare hands. Angelus too was taking out his anger and frustrations on the minions he encountered, although his emotions were more controlled. Yet one by one minions were falling to dust at their feet at an alarming rate, until there were a mere handful left standing who were willing to stake their chances against two enraged master vampires.

Christian had seen enough. He eyed the bag of red sand that lay on the floor a few paces away. Despite Silas’ age, Christian knew that if there was a weak point in his sire’s plan it would be with the ritual. Silas had always hated the intricacies of magic with a passion. Christian found himself hoping this time would be no different. Silas had them beat when it came to strength and speed, but maybe—just maybe—they could beat him with magic.

Scooping it up with one hand he dragged Spike to his side with the other, catching Angelus’ eye as he dusted the last of the minions.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?” Spike snapped yanking his arm back almost violently.

Christian shot him a look and held up the bag of sand, “Trying to get us inside that circle.”

Angelus eyed him critically, “You can do that?”

“I don’t know,” Christian admitted, “It’s worth a shot, though. We don’t have much time.”

Spike and Angelus swung around to take in the scene playing out behind them. Silas had used the distraction of his minions to begin the ritual undisrupted. He was sitting at her side, his hands on either side of her face as he muttered a string of invocations under his breath. Still out cold, Buffy arched beneath his touch as one hand gently began to trace a line down her neck and between the valley of her breasts to rest over her silent heart. Spike couldn’t tell if she was reacting in pleasure or pain, he told himself it was the latter.

Spike growled and ripped his attention away. “Right, what’s the plan?”

“We extend the circle,” Christian answered, again holding out the bag of sand, “I don’t know if it will work, but perhaps if we create a circle around ourselves connecting the main circle, we might be able to break the original line and get inside.”

Angelus nodded. “We try then.”

“I just hope we have enough sand,” Christian muttered. “We’ll have to press in close to make sure we have enough to circle around us.”

The Aurelians moved in closer without a word. Spike’s attention had returned once more to Buffy’s helpless form. A warm glow was beginning to emanate from her body, spiralling outwards from where Silas’ hands rested against her form to cover her body. What was he doing to her?

Silas was ignoring their attempts to break his protective circle or else was too wrapped up in the ritual to care. Spike noticed there were no minions with him inside the circle, perhaps if they could capture him by surprise...

Angelus squeezed his shoulder gently recapturing his attention, “We’ll get her back, Will. No matter what happens.”

Spike stared at his sire, willing himself to find a shred of truth in Angelus’ words.

“Be careful not to disrupt the line once I’ve begun pouring,” Christian interrupted. Spike and Angelus nodded seriously.

Christian took a deep breath and began. There wasn’t a lot of sand left in the bag, perhaps just enough for their purpose. He was careful to keep the line as thin as possible without breaking the continuous flow of red grains. He didn’t know if this would work, or whether he was meant to be saying something as he poured, but he had to trust that simply laying out the sand would be enough.

The line sparked as the last of the sand completed their circle and Christian felt something like hope light up within him that maybe it had worked after all.

“What does that mean?” Spike bit out impatiently.

“Hopefully, that it worked,” Christian answered sharing a look with Angelus before crouching down before the original line. He reached out slowly, relaxing when he touched the circle without anything adverse happening. Slowly sliding his fingers into the red grains he began to separate them slowly.

Angelus shivered as he felt the magic of the protection circle was over him, “I think its working.”

Christian nodded, severing the line completely and sitting back to admire his handiwork. He held an arm out cautiously and waved it through the air where the protection barrier should have been.

Christian smiled, “We’re in.”

Spike was moving before the words were out of Christian’s mouth. Snarling, he pushed his way into the circle charging the vampire leaning over his girl.

Angelus felt the floor drop out from underneath him and his stomach lurch. His childe was rushing an Ancient.

Chapter 24


“Spike!”

Christian watched in horror as Spike tackled Silas, sending them both tumbling to the floor in a flurry of fists and fangs. Christian couldn’t help but wonder if the blond was stupid or plain suicidal. Even when Silas had been at his weakest, no one in their clan had dared take him on, and those few outsiders who had tried quickly found themselves dusted. But taking on a full recuperated Ancient? Let alone one who was dead set on protecting the woman he believed to the love of his life reincarnated?

“Help him,” Christian urged, turning to Angelus. “I’ll untie Buffy.”

Angelus didn’t need to be told twice. Silas had recovered quickly and Spike was pinned against the wall, his feet dangling a good two feet off the ground. The Ancient’s claws were hooked deeply into the flesh of Spike’s abdomen, fangs buried in the soft patch of skin just above the collarbone, in the process of draining Spike dry.

Angelus roared, feeling his face morph into his demon’s guise as fury washed over him. No one touched his childer.

He cursed himself for not carrying a stake even as he reached for the dagger concealed at his waist. His feet carried him swiftly across the room, until he was standing behind the Ancient. Silas barely had time to react before the knife found its home in his back.

The Ancient roared in agony as the flesh around the blade began to sizzle and burn. As Silas’ grip loosened, Spike’s body slid to the floor heavily, almost completely drained and weak from blood loss. He didn’t get up.

“Does it hurt? Because, you know, I have the blade soaked in holy water and blessed after each use,” Angelus snarled into Silas’ ear while twisting the knife slowly, his demon revelling in the pain he was inflicting.

As Silas’ knees gave out from beneath him, Angelus followed him down.

Silas chuckled.

“You don’t really think that a simple knife to the back would be enough to bring me down, do you?” Silas ground out through the pain. “Your family is your Achilles heel, Angelus.”

Angelus grunted as something lodged itself in the back of his ankle and he realised too late what was happening. Angelus let go of the knife that was still lodged in Silas’ back at the same the Ancient tore through the thick tendon connecting his heel.

Pain exploded from his ankle upwards. Darkness seemed to wash over him as Angelus’ world contracted in on the agony flaring from his heel. He barely felt the successive fist to face or the knee that broke his nose before he slumped forward.

“Silas!”

Angelus forced himself to look up at Buffy’s shrill cry. Shock lancing through him as he witnessed his childe struggle within Christian’s grasp, her arms outstretched towards the man from whom he had come to save her. Something was wrong, Angelus realised as he took note of the desperation that he could see in her eyes as she struggled to free herself so she could get to Silas’ side.

Very wrong.

Beside him, Angelus heard Spike moan weakly, confusion plastered across every inch of his face. “Buffy?”

Silas chuckled, a slow smile breaking out across his face. “No. Simone.”

Christian loosened his grip in shock. Buffy shot across the room into Silas’ arms, sobbing out her fear into his chest as the Ancient held her.

“Simone?” Christian asked. “You told me that was impossible. You told me you only wanted to mate with her—Buffy, I mean.”

Silas smirked at him. “I told you all you needed to know to get the job done, my traitorous childe.”

Christian stared at Silas in disbelief as realization dawned on him that his sire hadn’t trusted him. Silas hadn’t trusted his second in command. How much else had he left out? How much of what Christian knew was false?

“You didn’t trust me,” Christian accused, knowing he was speaking the truth. “You knew I’d turn to the Aurelians.”

Silas said nothing, his gaze wandering over the two Aurelians out cold on the floor, weak from blood loss and pain. It was time to go, he had what he’d come for. A long dead feeling bloomed to life in his chest as he looked down at the woman in his arms. “Are you ready to leave, beloved?”

Buffy nodded in his arms.

“I trust you have more sense than you friends did. I have no qualms about taking you down if you’re stupid enough to try and stop us,” Silas stated easily, barely sparing his childe a glance.

Christian took a step back allowing them clear passage. He watched his sire sweep from the room and for a moment he could do nothing but stand there.


*****


Simone couldn’t help but feel confused. She wasn’t sure what was going on exactly, but something wasn’t right. Where were they? And how on earth had they come to be there? What were all these odd looking trinkets that littered her lover’s room? Why did she feel like she hadn’t seen Silas in months? What had happened that night, and how had she become involved? And most importantly, why did she keep getting these deep pangs of unease every time Silas looked at her or touched her? Climbing into bed with him that morning just as the sun began to crest on the horizon had felt inherently wrong, and she was glad they had both been too tired for him to insist on something more before he’d pulled her close and happily drifted off to sleep.

Rolling over on the soft silk sheets of her lover’s bed, Simone stared apprehensively at his sleeping face. He even looked different: his hair shorter, his eyes harder than she last remembered seeing. If she didn’t know better she would have said that he’d somehow managed to age since she’d last seen him, which was impossible. Vampires didn’t age.

She felt so conflicted, both elated and worried at the same time. She loved Silas, but she feared him. She trusted him with her life—she always had—and he had always saved her in the past, but tonight she didn’t even know what he’d saved her from. She just seemed to ‘wake up’ in the middle of it all, a strange man—another vampire—untying her from where she’d been strapped down against a table and urging her to follow him—to leave with him! Calling out for Silas had been instinctual, but the name had felt odd on her lips. She’d ignored it then. Terrified as she was and not knowing what was going on, she’d been happy to wrap herself in the familiarity and safety of her lover’s arms. It hadn’t been until she calmed somewhat and they put some distance between themselves and nightmare she’d woken up to that she realised things felt different.

Simone sighed. No, something just wasn’t right.

Gentle easing her body away from his, Simone slipped from the bed and padded across the room to the bathroom. It looked and felt as foreign and unfamiliar as the rest of her surroundings, but she could at least identify the bath. It took her a few minutes to work out how to fill the bath with water, but she smiled happily when she finally worked it out. She played with the temperature of the water until a steady stream of warm water was gushing from the spout and stood back to wait for it to finish filling.

Simone smiled as she noted the thick velvet drape covering a large mirror on the other side of the room. It was a quirk so Silas that she felt the tight band around her heart unfurl slightly. Silas never had gotten used to his lack of reflection, it was a trait she found endearing and one she hoped he’d never grow out of.

She must look an absolute fright, she thought wryly. Gripping the thick velvet in one hand she yanked firmly on it bring it tumbling down and—

“No...”


*****


“You look beautiful this evening,” a dark, rich voice whispered in her ear, his breath ghosting along the skin of her neck. Simone trembled as a small shiver broke out across her flesh at the velvet sound of his voice.

“Silas,” she whispered, a happy flush tinting her cheeks as she spun around to face her lover.

The man before her bowed deeply, a small secretive smile curving his lips as his eyes remained locked with hers. She giggled softly as he grabbed her by the hand and swiftly pulled her away from the rest of the party, barely giving her time to return the gesture and finish her curtsey.

“Silas!” She laughed.

“What?” He asked, smiling at her cheekily. “I can’t help it if I want you all to myself, away from prying eyes and nosey gossips.”

Simone flushed prettily, “If we were seen, though...”

“We won’t be,” he assured her confidently, his cool hand rising to stroke her cheek lovingly. Gently, he pulled her lips into his, claiming her mouth in a soft kiss. Simone sighed happily against his lips.

“I missed you,” she admitted softly, resting her head against his shoulder.

Silas smiled. “And I you.”

“I wish it didn’t have to be like this. I wish we could marry like everyone else. We could have our own little piece of forever,” Simone sighed wistfully, knowing full well that it wasn’t possible. There were far too many things that could go wrong. If anyone was to find out Silas was a vampire...She shut her eyes tightly against the thought of what they might do to him. To them.

“It doesn’t have to be like this, my love,” Silas pressed, both of his hands moving to cup her cheeks and lift her face to his for a chaste kiss. “I could turn you, make you like I am, then we’d have eternity.”

Simone shook her head sadly. “Eternity...It sounds wonderful, but no. I love you dearly, but I belong in the light. I couldn’t imagine living my life in perpetual night, never able to see the sun again.”

“But we could be together,” Silas pushed. “You’ll miss the sun, but surely you could learn to love the night? I’d make sure you’d want for nothing.”

“You could never give me the sun,” Simone shook her head again. “It’s not what I want, Silas.”

Silas frowned. “Not what you want. Not what you want? And for that you would pass up the chance at life together, bound together more closely than any human ceremony could ever hope to achieve?”

“Silas, please,” Simone begged quietly. “It isn’t you that I am refusing—”

“Yes, it is!”

“No!” She protested emphatically. “I love you more than anything in the world and I promise you I always will, but I can’t—I won’t—become a killer just so we can be together always. I wouldn’t be me if I did that. I wouldn’t be the woman you fell in love with.”

Silas was silent, staring past her and into the night, a heavy frown on his face. Didn’t she understand that he still hunted and killed? Yes, he’d protected her from other vampires in the past, and he’d never dream of hurting her in such a way, but she was the exception. He could care less about the lives of the people around them.

“Promise me you’ll never do it?” Simone continued after a moment, moving forward and pressing herself closer into the circle of his arms.

“I can’t make that promise,” Silas sighed, refusing to meet her eyes.

“You can.”

“Simone...”

“Promise me, Silas,” she persisted as she pulled his face back to hers so she could look him in the eye. “Whatever happens, promise me you’ll never turn me.”

His voice, when he answered, was barely audible, “I promise.”


*****


“No.”

Simone didn’t want to believe what she was seeing. A mirror hung on the wall before her reflecting back an empty bathroom—she had no reflection.

Tears prickled at her eyes.

“He promised,” she whispered brokenly.

The mirror was cold beneath the palm of her hand as she splayed her fingers out against the glass. Nothing. Not even a shadow. There was nothing to show that she was really there.

“He promised!” She whispered again harshly, her hand smacking out against the glass. She was startled when it cracked slightly under the pressure. She stared at the small spider web of cracks for a moment where the glass had splintered with an odd sort of detachment shadowing her thoughts as she felt the rage build.

“ARGH!”

Before she even realised what she was doing, she drew her arm back and let her fist fly with and enraged yell. The mirror exploded around her, slicing up her face and arms as the shards rained down upon her.

“Simone!”

His voice did nothing but infuriate her further.

She turned and slammed out of the bathroom. Silas was already halfway across the room on his way to find her and the minute he saw her, he quickly closed the distance between them, scooping her into his arms lovingly.

“Get off of me!” She snarled, planting both palms against his chest and pushing with all her might. He went flying; sailing rapidly across the room until the wall opposite her abruptly halted his progress with a resounding thud which cracked the plaster.

“What the hell?” He asked, starting up at her in bewilderment. “Simone?”

She shot him a poisonous glare. “Don’t you dare come near me!”

“What’s wrong?”

She let out a bitter laugh. “What’s wrong? I’m a vampire, Silas!”

Stalking across the room she grabbed the thick dark curtains that hung across the only windows in the room.

“No! Wait—”

She cut him off mind speech as she yanked on them with all her strength bringing both the curtains and the curtain rod crashing down around her. Silas hissed and quickly leapt out of the sun’s deadly rays as they filtered into the room.

“You lying no good bastard!” She snarled at him from the other side of the room, the thick shaft of sunlight separating them.

“Simone, darling, what are you talking about? I didn’t—” he began but she cut him off again.

“You turned me!” She yelled at him furiously. “You promised, Silas! You promised you would never turn me!”

Silas was shaking his head furiously. “No! No, I didn’t. I promise you—”

“Oh, you promise,” she cut in again. “I’m glad, because last time you made a promise to me it obviously meant so much to you.”

Silas didn’t know what to say. “Will you just let me explain? Please.”

Simone shook her head. “What is there to explain? I told you I never wanted this and you went through with it anyway.”

“It was the Aurelians! I had nothing to do with it!” Silas snapped.

Simone glared at him.

“I’m telling you the truth, beloved.” Silas continued more calmly when she voiced no further protests.

“Oh? Look me in the eyes and swear to me that you had nothing to do with my turning,” Simone growled.

Silas hesitated over the wording. Technically, it had been one of the Aurelians who turned her this time around, even if he had broken his promise initially all those centuries ago. He’d hesitated for just a moment too long, though, and he knew it.

Shaking her head mournfully, she turned away from him. “I trusted you.”

“It wasn’t like that, sweetheart, you were dying,” Silas pleaded. “I couldn’t—I...I couldn’t let you go. Not like that.”

“What right do you have to play God,” she hissed. “That’s life, Silas. People die. I can’t believe you would be so selfish. I should end this now and be done with it!”

She barely even noticed when her features morphed into that of her demon’s guise. Instead, Simone looked pointedly at the stream of sunlight that separated them. It would be so easy. This wasn’t what she wanted. Vampirism had never been an option for her and certainly not something she’d have ever chosen for herself.

She took a small halting step forward.

“No!”

‘NO!’

Simone pulled up short at the sharp exclamation, but it wasn’t Silas’ voice which stopped her. It was the louder, more frantic voice echoing through her own mind which caused her to halt mid-step.

‘Please,’ it whispered again more faintly, ‘don’t kill us...’


_________________________________________________________


AN: So, I hope that made sense to everyone. Any comments or questions? Did it work for you, or are you all confused?

Thanks to Slackerace for the beta :)

Chapter 25


For hours, Simone sat curled in on herself, her back pressed tightly against the wall in the corner as she watched the light chase shadows across the room as the day slowly crawled by. Across from her, Silas had finally given up trying to talk to her and instead shifted his concentration to the slowly shirking patch of shadow he was confined to. She was glad for the silence, as it allowed her to concentrate more completely on the strange occurrence that had stopped her from stepping into the sun.

Was she going mad? She knew without a doubt that Silas hadn’t been able to hear the voice. Yet when she’d tried to speak to it once more, all her attempts seem to have failed spectacularly. After a couple of hours of attempting to communicate with the voice inside her head, Simone had come to conclusion that she was either quite delusional or she had to be in some sort of danger for the voice to be heard. Neither option was terribly appealing, unfortunately.

Simone briefly glanced across the room at her former lover. Of course, nothing could be confirmed until Silas had been dealt with. She knew the second the sun set that he would be across the room before she could blink, trying to coax her back to his side with pretty apologies and promises he would no doubt break in the future. She needed him gone, allowing her the privacy she needed to speak to the voice once more.

“Simone?”

Simone fought the urge to roll her eyes and instead settled for a deep irritated sigh of frustration. Resolutely, she blocked out his voice. She had nothing to say to him and he could have nothing to say to her that she wanted to hear.

“Damn it, Simone! I am your sire and like it or not you will acknowledge me! I won’t put up with this insolence from you any longer!” Silas snarled, his patience finally wearing thin.

Slowly, Simone turned to look at him. He looked pathetic, squashed into the far corner of the room as he desperately tried to avoid the last rays of the dying sun. Despite that, she could feel her demon cowering away from his anger somewhere deep inside her. Like it or not, he was her elder and the oppressive weight of his demon’s signature against her skin only grew in the face of his anger. She had no doubt that if she continued to resist long enough he could easily overpower her and take the decision from her hands. Idly, she wondered what had stopped him from resorting to such measures to begin with; clearly all that mattered to Silas was what Silas wanted.

“I’m sorry. It’s just so much to take in,” she said softly, her voice barely more than a broken whisper, her eyes downcast in submission that wasn’t entirely faked. “I need some time, Silas.”

Silas’ eyes immediately softened, the anger leaving his face almost entirely. “I know, beloved. I didn’t think it would be like this, but we’ll work through it. I promise.”

Simone shook her head.

“No. I need some time alone,” she clarified gently, careful to keep her voice soft and docile, not wanting to provoke her vampire elder when she’d already pushed him so far. If she was going to figure things out, then she was going to have to convince him to give her the space to do it. But she knew Silas. She knew the way he thought, the way he worked, the way he lived, and she knew that all she had to do to get what she wanted was to let him think he’d won and then guilt him into giving it to her.

Silas frowned. “I’m not sure that is such a good idea, my love. I don’t want anything to happen to you. You almost walked into the sun...”

“I promise.” She pressed on quietly, throwing his own words back in his face, “I won’t do anything rash. I was upset before, but I’m okay now—or I will be after I’ve had some time to sort through things. Alone.”

Silas watched her closely, the indecision on his face was easy to read, but her words stopped him from refusing her outright. He knew he was close to losing her, and so soon after he finally had her once more. He didn’t want to force her to take her place at his side, but he would if that’s what it came down to. Until then, however, he would give her the space she needed to come to the right decision.

“Okay.”

Simone smiled at him beautifully and Silas felt his heart lighten.

“Thank you.”


*****


Spike could smell blood.

Hunger pulsed through him hotly, and before he was even aware of what he was doing his demon’s guise had burst across his face and he inhaled deeply. The smell was like none other. The thick rich scent assaulted his nostrils and his demon growled deeply with a deep all consuming hunger.

“That’s it, childe,” a deep voice rumbled softly through his semiconscious mind. “Drink up.”

A drip on his lips—something warm and thick—and suddenly his mouth had latched on to a pale wrist drinking in deep pulls of the rich, powerful substance: sire’s blood. It tasted of both family and home. It was a reaffirmation of belonging and gave a sense of comfort that nothing else could offer. Above all, though, it was a gift of healing.

Spike sucked on the wound greedily to pull long heady mouthfuls of blood into his mouth, each swallow healing the damage Silas had inflicted.

“He’s taking a lot,” a soft feminine voice murmured to his right.

“He needs it,” his sire responded in kind. “I thought Silas had taken too much. We cut things too close, Darla. I didn’t think we’d make it back to the mansion in time, and then when he wasn’t drinking…”

“I know. I’m just glad Dru knew we were coming.” A beat of silence passed between the two. “That’s enough for now, Angelus.”

Spike whimpered as the wrist was gently extracted from his mouth, only to be replaced quickly with a smaller wrist, a warmer one. He bit down without hesitation. The thick taste of warm human blood blossomed into his mouth and Spike moaned in ecstasy.

“Watch him and see that he doesn’t take too much,” his sire’s voice instructed quietly. “When he’d done with this one, bring in the next donor. You’ll know when he’s taken his fill.”

Spike barely registered the sound of his sire leaving the room; instead his focus remained firmly fixed on the soft warm wrist at his mouth. Gradually he drank until his stomach was fully sated and he fell into a healing sleep, thoughts of Buffy and Silas plaguing his mind as his body slowly began to heal itself.


*****


Dawn felt like her world was slowly but surely imploding around her. Truthfully she didn’t know how much more she could take. The thought of her sister with that monster, the thought that they might not get her back.… Even Darla and Angelus didn’t know what to do; she could see it in their eyes. Spike, Angelus and Christian had faced Silas down and now Angel could barely walk, the tendon in his ankle barely knitted back together from the blood Darla had given him, and Spike had practically been dusted.

Dawn scowled at the vampire sitting across from her. Christian. What a stupid name for a vampire. How that bastard had managed to come out completely unscathed she could only just imagine. She didn’t care what Darla said, that blood oath he’d taken was a crock of shit. It was hardly coincidental that he was the only one to walk out without a scratch on him, not to mention the fact that he’d simply let his sire walk away with her sister. She wanted to smack the smile right off his face.

“You’re worried about your sister,” Christian stated casually, his voice cutting through the tense silence.

“No shit,” Dawn snapped back, turning her gaze away from him as she wished she could turn her back on him.

“Don’t be. Silas is strong, yes, but if he has one downfall it’s magic and ritual. He doesn’t understand the complexities of it,” Christian explained. “Your sister’s Sire mentioned he had a witch working with them. If she knows her craft, as I’m sure she does, then I doubt Buffy’s situation will pose much of a problem once they’ve worked out the semantics.”

Dawn rolled her eyes, “You’re forgetting the fact that nobody seems to know what it is your butt ugly Sire did to her.”

Christian chuckled at her comment. It made Dawn see red.

“You’re so…spirited,” Christian grinned.

“And you’re such an arsehole. Leave me alone,” Dawn bit out.

“Is he bothering you, my sweet?” A melodic voice interrupted.

Dawn looked up to see Dru standing just off from them swaying lightly from side to side as she danced to music only she could hear. Dawn smiled welcomingly at the insane vampire. She liked Dru. There was something about the tall, willowy vampire that was different from the rest of the vampires Dawn had met since coming to Sunnydale—aside from the obvious that is. She knew Dru could be just as vicious a killer as the next, if she wanted to be—perhaps even more so without the necessary faculties available to her to temper her attack—yet there was a delicateness about her that the other’s seem to lack. Dru still looked breakable.

“Totally,” Dawn agreed emphatically, shooting a glare across the room at Christian. The other vamp was frowning up a Dru unwelcomingly, but he looked up to smile at Dawn as she looked across at him.

“Naughty,” Dru growled playfully at Christian as she swept by him to take a seat next to Dawn. “Wanting to turn our sunshine into night. Bad, doggy. The sunshine is not yours to take.”

Christian scowled at her in apprehensive distaste. He’d never liked Dru. Her mindless babbling freaked him out in the worst kind of way. Why Angelus had kept her as a childe was beyond him.

“What do you mean, Dru?” Dawn asked, worried that she was talking about Buffy. She knew Christian was up to something!

Dru smiled at her mysteriously, “The pixies are whispering to me.”

Dawn sighed heavily.

“They telling you you’re loony?” Christian asked sarcastically.

Dawn snorted, “No, they’re telling her you are.”

Dru hummed quietly to herself. “Old and new are all mixed up. It’s ever so confusing. Lamb to the wolf and the wolf to the lamb, back to front, which way is up?”

Dawn frowned in confusion, trying to force the words into making some sense. “I… don’t understand.”

Christian snorted. “Oh, and you were meant to? I’m sorry; here I was thinking she was babbling nonsense again! How stupid of me!”

“Glad we can agree on something,” Dawn shot at him.

Dru smiled and patted Dawn on the head. “Would you like to come for a tea party? Miss Edith is ever so anxious to meet you.”

Dawn smiled. “Sure. Anything to get away from leech-boy over here.”


*****


Angelus hobbled down the hallway to their room slowly. His weight was resting almost entirely on Darla’s shoulders and not for the first time in his long existence, he found himself eternally grateful for her strength.

Making their way into the room slowly, he hopped his way over to the bed and collapsed face down with a dramatic sigh. His muscles were tense and tightly bunched; his neck and shoulders aching from the stress of the past few days. His ankle was still throbbing dully, though most of the pain had diminished as the tissue began to re-knit itself.

Quietly, Darla shut the door behind them and made her way over to the bed. Gently she reached down and slipped Angel’s shoes from his feet, before crawling up the bed to straddle his hips. Hiking his shirt up, she began to run her hands across his back in broad soothing strokes, her fingers finding all the knots in his back and working them until they loosened. Angelus moaned in pleasure as he felt his muscles slowly start to relax, the tension draining out of him like water.

“Feel good?” Darla asked with a smile.

Angelus nodded mutely.

It felt like heaven. It was just what he needed to put things back in order—realign his focus. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, their encounter with Silas had shaken him. He hadn’t expected to be able to beat him face to face, and he felt no shame at their defeat. Yet, the sheer strength and brutality of his attack had thrown him. Not to mention, it was considered more than just bad form for a vamp to kill another vamp by draining them dry. Buffy had done it, but she’d not been in full control and had yet to learn better. Silas on the other hand knew exactly what he’d been doing, and yet it hadn’t stopped him from damned near dusting Spike all the same. Spike had been barely clinging on to what was left of his existence by the time they’d made it back to the mansion.

It had been far, far too close.

“Stop. I can feel you tensing up underneath me again,” Darla scolded lightly.

Angelus shook his head. “I can’t. It was close today, Darla.”

“Too close,” she agreed softly, leaning forward and rolling off him so she was spooned against his side.

“I don’t know what to do. We can’t face him down like that again, there is no way we would survive it. But Buffy…I have no idea what he’s done to her, but I refuse to just let him get away with it. She’s my childe.”

“I know,” Darla soothed, pressing a comforting kiss into his shoulder.

“What if it’s too much, though? What if we can’t get her back?” Angelus asked, untangling himself and rolling onto his back so he could pull his mate into his arms, needing the reassurance of her body pressed against his. She settled into his side with an ease borne of centuries sleeping together.

“Thinking like that will get us nowhere. Whatever he did, it was done with magic. First thing tomorrow night we’ll talk to the witch and see what she can do about it. We’ll never win if we take this head on, but we might have a chance if we work at unravelling his plans from behind him.” Darla told him matter-of-factly. “We chose to welcome Buffy into the Order because she was strong, and so was her demon. She’s been through a lot already, but she’s strong enough to hold out.”

Angelus nodded broodingly. A stretch of silence passed between them comfortably. There was little more Darla could say, and she wasn’t in the habit of coddling him. There was little that could truly be done at this stage. Until they knew more about what Silas had done to their childe, their hands were tied. Angelus knew that, and she knew once he got done sorting through things in his head he’d come good again.

“One way or another, we’ll see that bastard fry,” Angelus muttered darkly, breaking the silence that had hung between them.

Darla smirked. “Oh, we’ll see him more that fry, my love.”

Angelus grinned slowly, his confidence restored for the moment. Moving at speeds too quick for the human eye to see, he hand her underneath him, his lips fastened tightly over hers.

“Tell me more,” He growled against her mouth.

Darla laughed. Yes, her man was back.