~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 7
The figures hunched in the bushes across the street watched with great interest the happenings at the Summers’ home. Their eyes darting to the blonde pair retreating down the street, then back to the man closing the door. Reaching inside a bag one of the men retrieved a cell phone, pushed the programmed number then placing the phone to his ear.
“Code red!”
~*~*~*~*~
Joyce was livid, what the hell just happened in her house was beyond her comprehension at the moment. She had her daughter back, right here in her arms, then she was viciously ripped away again. Turning on her heels she locked angry eyes on the two men she held responsible.
Rupert Giles and Xander Harris
“What did you just do Rupert? Buffy was back, she was home, and you chased her away.”
Thrusting the cross back into his jacket's pocket, emitting a labored sigh, Giles ran a hand over his wary face . “Joyce, that... that creature was not Buffy. If we are to believe what Xander asserted to be true.”
Xander was sitting on the bottom step of the stair case visibly pale, as Oz stood over him with his normal cool expression over his features. Giles turned to the two teens.
“Xander, Oz, would you kindly inform us as to what you witnessed.”
“Yes, Xander. Please enlighten us all about my daughter why don't you.”
Joyce repeated with slumped shoulders heading towards the den. The four teens and Watcher followed suit. Once entering everyone took seats around the room. The air was heavy with silence for what seemed an eternity, leaning forward on her knees Joyce asked the teens to relay their story. She had to know what made them believe Buffy was a vampire, and who was that man she was with.
Xander cleared his throat taking in a deep breath before he started to speak.
“Oz here didn't witness anything, it was all me. We where out on patrol, but, you already know that. Anyway, we split up and I headed further into the cemetery to finish up for the night. Well I rounded this corner and I hear a struggle in the distance, so I ducked behind this tree. Which provided me with an excellent view of the chompfest going on. So first I see Spike...,”
Joyce wrinkled her brow, “Who is this Spike?”
“We'll fill you in on him in a moment Joyce. I would like to here what Xander has to tell us first.”
All attention was focused back on the young man sitting in the chair.
“Yeah, so there's Spike doing the whole 'I want to suck your blood' thing, but then he stops. And I'm thinking “What's with the evil blood sucking fiend stopping for?”, when he motions to something in the shadows. Then out walks Buffy, and I'm ready to start dancing cause Buff is alive, and Spike was going to get his undead ass staked. But she goes all “grrr” and all with the bumpies.”
Giles whipped his glasses of his face giving them a vigorous rub, “And she fed. You saw her feed?”
“Yeah G-man, dropping the poor guy on the ground. I bolted after that, had to get back here to warn you.”
Gasping, Joyce brought her hand to her mouth fighting back tears, as Giles pinned a look upon Xander for daring to call him such a stupid name.
“So Buffy's not Buffy, right? From what I've read and what you have told me she's a demon.”
“No Joyce, a demon is inhabiting her body. Buffy is dead, lost to all of us. That thing is wearing Buffy's shell, her body, but the girl we once knew and loved is gone.”
Fighting back tears the elder Summers grief became rage.
“And who was the blonde man with her?”
“Spike, also known as William the Bloody. He was sired by Drusilla, who you know now is Angel's childe, he sired her. But Spike earned his place as a member of the scourge of Europe. He is known as the slayer of slayers. And he came to Sunnydale to kill his third Slayer, but from the looks of it he has sired one instead.”
Giles paused a moment to rethink his answer, “Or Drusilla sired Buffy but has placed Spike over her teachings.”
“So that monster not only stole my baby, and murdered her, but she turned her into one of those... things?”
Everything had come to a head at once and Joyce broke under the pressure. She was a strong woman, but it wasn't every day you found out your daughter was a mystical warrior chosen to save the world, and then turned into one of the monsters she fought.
Tara rose from her set and strolled over to the sobbing woman, as she sat down next to her she whispered soft comforting words in her ear. “C-C-Come on Mrs. Summers, I-I-I'll make you s-s-something to s-s-settle your nerves.”
The two headed towards the kitchen as the others watched their retreating forms. Placing his glasses back on the watcher couldn't help but think he could use a nice stiff drink.
“Well, we mustn't dally behind, let's get to work shall we.”
~*~*~*~*~
Buffy couldn't stop the shaking that was coursing through her body, nor the images of horror that flashed over her mother's features upon hearing she was a vampire. Her demon raged, how dare her own mother reject her in such a manner. Yeah, she kinda expected it from her Watcher, and maybe even Xander, but her mother... No!, she thought as a pout formed across her lips. Spike watched the petite blonde to the right of him, he wished he could ease her pain. But he couldn't, a sire/childe bond only went so far. So he did the next best thing he knew, placing his arm around her slim shoulders he hugged her towards him.
Buffy instantly calmed from her sire's embrace, it was as if he was the cool water that extinguished her raging inferno. Neither one spoke on their way back to the mansion, lost in their own thoughts. Spike hoped Buffy didn't give into her demon's request for vengeance at the atrocity passed down upon it. How blind and gullible the ex-slayer was to believe the words of the council of wankers, taking what they said as fact, as if they were infallible.
Buffy had bit down upon their definition of good and evil since she first found out she was the chosen one, and started to slay. Never once did she question them, ask how they knew that vampires and other demons where truly evil. Even when she first met Spike, and she could see the love he had for his sire, it never once occurred to her to ask Giles how was this even possible.
Even Angel had told her that vampires were cold heartless creatures, deserving nothing but a dusty ending to their evil existence. And who was she to question him, duh, he was a vampire, he knew his own kind, right... wrong. But now Buffy knew, she knew Angel was a bigot to his own kind. So ashamed of the acts he committed as Angelus, he hid and repressed what he truly was.
A vampire, a hunter, a creature of the night, something of beauty, one that should be feared. Something she liked being, she was finally free of life's restraints and the responsibility of being the slayer. No longer walking around with “SLAYER” written on her forehead, or an expiration date looming over her head. Her eyes had been opened, she really should thank Drusilla.
But beyond that, above all that she was told, Buffy knew and she could feel she was the same person she was before her re-birth. Well not exactly, cause hot public car sex, so wasn't happening before she was turned. But vampires kept some portion of their souls upon changing. It wasn't one hundred percent there, but the essence of what made Buffy, Buffy was there.
The whole guilt issue towards feeding upon humans was gone, but guilt towards one's vampiric family was there, the same with loyalty, love, jealousy, and other emotions. She couldn't fathom how blind she had been. But would you deliberately inform your chosen one, that the creatures she dusted every night could feel emotions much like the living.
Buffy would just have to approach her mother when she was alone, not with a stuffy British watcher glaring over her shoulder. She just had to believe that Buffy was the same girl she was three days ago.
Both blondes paused in their steps, Spike turned to face Buffy, “Looks like Angelus has another childe.”
~*~*~*~*~
Willow drifted towards the muffled voices that seemed to be all around her. Her head was pounding, her mouth was dry, and her body hurt, she had never felt pain like this before. It was if her limbs had ceased to move for a long period of time. That though cause Willow to sit up right with a start.
Oh god, Angelus!
The images from the school's computer lab came flashing back into her minds eye. Angelus' twisted smile, the taunts he whispered into her ear, and then he bit her. Her pale trembling hand reached for her neck.
Darla and Drusilla stilled their movements watching, observing their newly risen fledgling. Taking in the contortion of her features as she processed what had happened to her.
“She is very pretty.” Darla commented leaning into the dark haired vampiress' ear, who nodded her head in agreement. Drusilla was still bewitched with her, and she couldn't wait until Willow snapped out of her daze to play with her.
'Oh goodness!' Angel did it, he turned her, Willow moved her hand over her jugular vein, where she should feel it's pulse. But there was nothing, that's when she noticed she wasn't breathing either. A sob tore through her chest, she was dead, she was evil, she was soulless. Could someone just be nice and stake her now?
“Little sister seems to be distressed.”
Drusilla sang as a smirk played on her lips. Willow remembered the voices she heard upon waking and turned her attention towards them, she was greeted by the two master vampires.
Willow regarded the pair before her, Drusilla was lounging next to her, draped in a deep red sheer robe, that fanned open around her legs, covering the area of the bed were she laid. Darla sat at the redhead's feet idly playing with her toes, gazing upon her nude form.
Willow shrank back at her state of undress as Dru reach across stilling her hand. As if to read the thoughts that danced around in her head, she wanted nothing more than to cover herself. The dark haired vampire's eyes seemed to come alive, dancing with mirth.
“It's ok little plum, let big sis make it all better.” Drusilla cooed leaning over licking a trail up Willow's cheek.
Darla followed suit ghosting her hands over the fledgling's legs, stopping at the nest of curls guarding her sex. Willow momentarily forgot she no longer needed to breath as her breath hitched in her throat. Drusilla captured her lips in a bruising kiss, nibbling on them with blunt teeth, she bit down hard causing blood to trickle forth. Willow couldn't help the protest of pain that escaped her mouth, or the arousal her demon felt. But it was wrong, very wrong, she couldn't do this, couldn't feel even this remotely turned on.
But she did and she was, she felt herself growing wetter from the nipping and sucking the ravin haired vampire was ushering upon her lips. Drusilla's facial bones shifted calling forth her demon visage, running her tongue over her elongated fang causing blood to ooze forth. Willow's demon lurched at the offered prize, and she began to suck greedily at the cool pink flesh, pulling it back into her mouth.
Drusilla's hand brushed over Willow's pale rosy nipple, flicking and twirling it, coaxing it to a hardened peak. As a hiss escaped Willow's lips followed by Dru's knife like nail sliced a thin slit across her right breast. Transfixed the red head watched as the vampire lowered her head, tracing the red liquid with her tongue.
Darla wasted no time, slipping her finger beyond the curls and into the silken folds of her gran-childe's sex. Willow's hips bucked up off the mattress from the invasion, and the sensations that were coursing through her body. The ex-computer geek's body felt as if it were set ablaze, from the ministrations that both master vampires were visiting upon her supple form.
~*~*~*~*~
Travers was sitting at his desk going over some old tomes when there was a knock at the door. Slanting the book but not placing it down he peered over the edge.
“Come in.”
The dark haired woman stuck her head into the room, afraid to proceed the rest of the way inside the office.
“Well, speak. What have you to say?”
“T-t-t-the phone, it's for you.” The head watcher rolled his eyes releasing a sigh. The daft bint came all the way in here to tell him there was a pending phone call for him. Sometimes he felt with each passing generation the watchers got dumber. Must be that American influence, satellite TV was never a good thing to begin with.
“Thank you. That is all,” he commented waving his hand in the air as a king dismissing one of his subjects. Waiting until the door closed behind him, Travers reached for the phone.
“This is Travers. What can I do for you?”
The man's features darkened as he listened to the voice on the phone, those two small words uttered carried so much with them. Hanging up the phone he rose from his chair.
Quentin Travers exited his office walking past his secretary, and walked down the red carpeted hallways, passing portraits of previous head council members. Coming to a stop he placing his hands upon the ornate door handles that graced the large oak doors, with a flick of the wrist they flew open. Travers walked into the room and around the large circular conference table that greeted him. Twenty chairs accompanied the table, and shelves of books lined the walls.
The air was heavy with dust, since the room was barely used, only for extreme emergencies that called the councils most revered members to arms. The elderly watcher walked over to the head chair, it was encased in worn dark brown leather. He dusted the light curtain of dust away and sat down. Turning to the wooden box to his left, Travers flipped the lid up. Inside sat a red button surrounded by blue velvet like covering.
With a resounding sigh he placed his index finger down on it, as it sent out silent waves to those awaiting its call.
~*~*~*~*~
A/N Still with me, any good! Let me know.
[Reviews - 19]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 1774 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:
I just refound this chapter, so now I can update it. I hope you enjoy it and sorry for such a long wait.