Chapter 14 - What’s in a Name
Buffy stared at the vial of liquid in her hand, tears burning her eyes for no discernible reason. After sitting on her bed for the better part of an hour, she still wasn’t any closer to knowing what she was holding, but she couldn’t shake the sense of guilt.
Guilt for craving the bite of a vampire - any vampire - guilt for believing that a stranger could help her, for taking what he offered with a sense of relief, for feeling as if she wasn’t worthy of being the recipient of any type of prophecy. And most of all, guilt for lying to Spike.
“Or at least lying by omission,” she murmured to herself, her eyes never leaving the green liquid that moved in soothing ripples throughout the glass tube as she rotated it in her hand.
“I can’t,” she whispered, even as she wondered what it would be like to inject the glowing liquid into her veins and feel the immediate relief. The relief that only the feel of fangs embedded in her neck could bring. “I can’t,” she said with more conviction. “It’s not an antibiotic, it’s a drug,” she told herself, forcing herself to believe it.
Opening the drawer next to her bed, Buffy shook her head as she gently placed the vial on top of a book, her eyes never leaving it. “I’m not going to be like some drug addict, taking scraps from strangers,” she muttered, disgusted with herself for her lack of self control, even as her fingers still itched to pick it up again.
Slamming the drawer shut, Buffy ran a shaking hand through her hair before agitatedly climbing to her feet and walking out of the room. Grabbing a stake, she left the house, intent on her destination.
Buffy made her way through the streets of Los Angeles, trying not to focus on the increasing feeling of uneasiness that was gnawing at her, unsure of whether it was her growing irritation of needing a form of relief or the fact that she was walking through a very densely vamp-populated area of the city.
Trying to get in a familiar rhythm of patrolling as she walked through back alleys, resisting any hint of temptation and staking two vampires that happened to cross her path, Buffy stretched and rolled her shoulders.
“You look a little lost.”
The gravelly voice of the man behind her made her tense with recognition. Slowly turning to face him, she stared into his eyes, which held a trace of warmth and of something more sinister. Much like herself, she thought with a smirk.
“Me?” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “I know exactly where I am.”
“Do you?”
Hearing the derisive undercurrent in his tone, Buffy narrowed her eyes. “I know enough not to talk to strangers when they accost me in dark alleys,” she snapped, spinning away from the man and continuing along the route she’d chosen.
“Did you use the little gift I gave you?” he questioned, not bothering to approach her, his voice carrying through the alley.
Buffy paused, a sigh escaping her lips as she turned back to him. “I don’t need a drug pusher, thanks. I don’t know how you know about… me, but I can beat this thing on my own. I don’t need help from outside influences.”
“Not even if they’re guaranteed to help and they’re more of the ‘otherworld’ variety?”
“Not even if they were injected into an apple and given to me by a kindly old lady,” she retorted through gritted teeth.
“You have a stronger constitution than I,” he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets as he approached. “The guilt would be too much for me to bear.”
“Who said anything about guilt?”
“Guilt is not something that is mentioned. It’s much more tangible than that. To the untrained eye, it might appear to be something else, which explains why your lover didn’t bother to notice it when he came to you. Or maybe it was just the jealousy that he couldn’t see beyond.”
Buffy tried to control her breathing, knowing that her stricken expression was telling him everything he needed to know. “H-how…? Are you spying on me?”
“I don’t need to,” he replied, his relaxing voice washing over her as he slowly approached. “Like I said… it’s practically in every movement you make. The way you walk, the way you defend yourself to the slightest verbal offense, and especially the way you take your anger out on the ones who are causing you such grief.”
Unconsciously, Buffy took a step toward him, wanting to get back her built-in sense of cynicism and realism and hope that he was actually what he appeared to be. “And why do you want to help me?”
The man smiled, his eyes lighting up with a warmth she had never seen. “Because you’re nothing more than a child. A child who must play dress-up and fight the evils of this world that should not be here. A child who was taken advantage of at a young age by a vampire who doesn’t trust her and thinks of her as nothing more than a bedmate and a food source. A plaything, if you will.”
Her features closing into a cold mask, Buffy straightened her spine as she stepped away. “You’re wrong,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “Spike loves me. He’s always loved me. I don’t know how you know so much, but regardless of what you believe, he has never done anything to hurt me.”
“Not even when he initiated you into the art of lovemaking against the wall of his crypt? Taking your innocence with brutal force must have laid the foundation for a darker relationship.”
“You know your research,” she said in a tight voice. “But you don’t know your details. It was my idea. It was me telling him not to stop. And when I was hurt and scared and ran away, it was Spike who didn’t stop until he found me.”
“And what happened when he found you?” he retorted, seeing some of her bravado fade at the memory of the duality of feeling like a chastened child and the overpowering emotion of Spike forcing himself into her life when she wanted to be left alone.
“It was for my own good,” she said, believing it even as she heard the scoffing tone in the other man’s voice.
“If it was for your own good, why doesn’t he see where the real threat is? Why is he leaving you alone when it’s obvious that you’re on a downward spiral of your own?”
Buffy clenched her jaw, refusing to believe that the man who so obviously loved her could possibly be a man that this stranger described. Preparing to respond, her eyes widened at the sight of the vial he pulled from his pocket, identical to the one she had just tucked away in her house.
“It would be so easy,” he said in a soothing voice. “All of the pain would be taken away. All of the guilt,” he continued, slowly walking toward her. “And you would no longer crave that which you hate.”
“Who are you?” she asked, watching him skeptically.
“A friend,” he replied in a soothing voice that immediately seemed to set her at ease. “I’m simply a man who knows exactly what you’re going through. Someone who knows how to relieve the pain… and the craving.”
Everything inside of Buffy screamed at her to take advantage of whatever it was that he was offering. Anything to alleviate what she was feeling, even if only for a few moments. Her lips parted as she contemplated what acceptance of his offer might mean. “I… I can’t,” she whispered to herself, shaking her head before repeating more forcefully, “I can’t.”
Turning away from temptation, she allowed herself a brief smile, pleased with herself for withstanding something that would be so easy to accept. Her satisfaction was short-lived when she felt the blade of a knife pressing harshly against her throat. Clenching her jaw, Buffy’s eyes slid over to the man who was vaguely visible over her shoulder, cursing herself for not sensing the threat he obviously posed.
“I wanted to do this an easier way,” he whispered in a hoarse voice. “I would have preferred earning your trust, but you’re not a very trustworthy girl. This could have been a painless process, Elizabeth.”
Gasping for air, Buffy’s eyes moved to the man standing behind her, a knife still poised at her jugular. Immortal or not, she wasn’t going to risk something that could easily put an end to her life. Just because she would never die didn’t mean she couldn’t be killed - her immortality hadn’t come with a book of instructions and she wasn’t in the habit of risking herself in kamikaze fights. “H-how do you know that name?” she whispered, knowing that only a very few people knew about the name her father had given her, and in order to protect her, that name had been stripped from her when she was only a few days old, leaving any enemies to be searching for Elizabeth Angel - Daughter of Prophecy. Buffy Summers - all-around normal girl - had taken her place.
“I know a great deal about you, Miss Angel. More, probably, than you yourself happen to know. I know how your mother killed herself so that you could be born. I know that your father gave you up when you were a baby, labeling that deed as something that was ‘for your own good.’ I know that he proceeded to ignore you until you were old enough to make him pay attention, and by then it was almost too late for your relationship to survive. And I know that he loves you. Almost as much as you love him. I know that you had to kill him to make him human. And I know that as a result of that, it is you who is the Daughter of Prophecy. You who hold the key to everything. But there’s something you don’t know.”
“What’s that?” Buffy asked in a raspy voice, her teeth clenched and her body tense, ready for the slightest resistance from the man behind her before she made her move.
“I know that you are immortal. But immortality has a price.”
Gasping in shock at the feel of a needle imbedded in her neck, Buffy violently wrenched away from the man behind her, swaying slightly at the disorienting feeling that enveloped her. Buffy turned to face him, her hand coming up to her throat, trying to focus on her surroundings.
“What… what did you do to me?”
“I simply took the pain away,” he replied, reaching out to balance her.
“I-I don’t… I don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice sounding muffled to her own ears. “What’s happening to me?”
“You’re merely entering the first stage of the drug. It’s a powerful chemical.”
“You’re going to kill me,” she whispered, reaching out to the wall beside her to steady herself, thrown off balance when her hand encountered nothing but thin air.
“No,” he replied with a chuckle. “No, as easy as that may be, it’s not my intention. You are merely the means to an end. A weapon to use against the greater foe, so to speak. As I mentioned before, you are the key to his life. And you will be the key to his destruction. ”
“Weapon?” she repeated, anxiously licking her lips, trying to focus on his words. “I don’t… You,” she whispered, grasping onto a stunning moment of clarity. “You’re the reason. It’s you.”
The man smiled, slipping a hand beneath her elbow to guide her out of the alley. “Allow me to escort you home. I give you my word, as a gentleman, that no harm will come to you this night.”
“My father,” Buffy breathed, attempting to focus her strength. “He’s the reason you’re here. You’re the thing he’s looking for. You’re the one he’s been trying to protect me from.”
“Amazing, isn’t it? In trying to protect you, he leads you into the thing he fears most.”
“But they’re… you’re… in Sunnydale,” she murmured, pressing her palms to her temples and sliding her fingers through her hair. “What have you done to me?”
“I promise you, Miss Angel, you are merely experiencing some unfortunate side effects. You are not my target.”
“That’s not my name,” Buffy countered forcefully. “My name is Summers… Buffy… Buffy Summers,” she said, briefly closing her eyes, trying to focus on her fleeting thoughts. “And I’ll never let you hurt my father.”
“In the grand scheme of things, your name is not of any importance,” he said, ignoring her forceful statement about her father.
“And you? Is your name of any importance?” she asked in a cynical tone.
“How terribly rude of me,” he replied in a voice that was almost soothing. “Daniel Holtz, at your service.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I know, it's been forever and I sincerely apologize. I want everyone to know that I have not and will not abandon this story, no matter how few and far between the chapters are. Deadly Obsession will also be updated soon. If you're still reading, you have my heartfelt thanks for your patience and you are much more tolerant than I am. As always, so many thanks yous go out to Allison who has been editing my stories since I started writing a long time ago and has stuck with me through everything! Thank you, Alli!