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Giles, Marlena, and Buffy rushed from the dark room, down the mirrored corridor, and into the great hall...

...To find that the battle was well underway.

The attackers, clad head to toe in black clothes and masks, were wreaking havoc on the Estate defenders. Some on bikes, others on dune buggies, and, unless Buffy was hallucinating, some were flying; all of them were attacking the Estate’s defenders. Some wielded machine guns and swords, but others seemed to be throwing fire, lightening, ice and other impossible magic.

Buffy turned to Marlena.

“Who are they?” she yelled.

“The Spaarti Tribe,” Marlena sighed, shaking her head is dismay. She looked up to see Buffy and Giles giving her an inquisitive look. “Warlocks, witches, mages, a nomadic tribe of magic-users,” she explained. “They try to raid the Estate every now and then for the power. Their leader, DeGanon, has orchestrated several raids of chantries all around the world. They seek out the most powerful sources of magic and pillage them. Grigori Estate is one of the few he hasn’t sacked. Yet,” she turned away from the window, frowning, “it’s odd, though. He just tried to raid this place three months ago; it’s too soon for him.”

“Our friends are outside the gate, we’ve got to get them into the compound!” Buffy cried.

Marlena shook her head.

“I’m sorry, NO awakened mystical beings are allowed onto the Estate grounds.” She leveled a stern gaze at Buffy. “You were allowed because you are the Slayer,” she shifted her glance to Giles, “and you were, because your arête has dwindled to the point that any impact it may have on the convergence would be insignificant.”

She turned back to Buffy.

“But the witch, the former demon, the vampires...?” She shook her head “Their personal resonance is far too disruptive to be allowed within the manor grounds.” She shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry, your friends are on their own.”

Buffy’s eyes narrowed to slits as she approached the older woman, her stance lethal.

“So, you won’t lift a finger to help my friends who are trying to save the world, which, incidentally, includes your precious little mystical hotspot?” she hissed angrily.

Marlena shook her head.

“The rules are clear. I cannot deviate from them,” she replied.

"Sod your rules, that's my son out there!" Giles hissed while angrily gripping her arm tightly.

Marlena jerked her arm out of his grasp. "I will not put the innocent souls that claim sanctuary in this place at risk for anyone; not for you, Rupert, and especially not for your son. The Scion of Annihilation must not be allowed access to the power of this hall!"

Giles frowned. < i>The Scion of Annihilation?

Buffy stepped right into Marlena’s face.

“Well, then, as far as I’m concerned,” she whispered, her voice hard as steel, eyes flashing with rage, “your claims to being a Slayer died when you did.”

Before Marlena could utter a world, Buffy spun around and gathered Giles along with a look.

“Come on, Giles, we’ve got some mystical ass that needs kicking.” Storming out of the main hall, she nearly plowed over Onyx. “Out of my way, gravel heap!” she snarled as she exited the building.



“Well, this…” Alec started, lashing out with his fists to knock another warlock off the roof of the RV, “…is fun,” he finished.

He, Faith, Xander, Spike, and Angel were busy fighting off the mages that had just… appeared all of a sudden, draped in black, complete with domino masks, hurling fire and lightening. Willow had gotten a protective spell up sealing the bus off with herself, Dawn, and Anya inside. Spike, unable to engage in physical conflict with humans due to the chip in his head, resorted to hurling Molotov cocktails made from his ample whiskey stash. He and Alec were standing on top of the RV, Spike hurling his bombs and Alec covering him with cracking darkness whips.

But they were badly outnumbered. Both Faith and Xander, fighting at the base of the RV, were nursing some bad burns from a pyromaniacally inclined mage, and Spike’s arm was still numb from a blast of mystical ice that would have killed him had he been alive.

“These odds suck,” Alec commented dryly as he lashed out, catching another of the masked mages across the face, knocking him from his bike.

Spike snorted. “Ya great, Poof,” he taunted his friend, before heaving another whiskey bomb off the roof of the bus. It crashed, and exploded against the ground, sending a blaze of fire roaring up and causing a dirtbike riding mage to veer sharply away and topple off it, crashing to the ground hard.

Suddenly, Alec’s eyes widened in inspiration, and, leaning down over the roof, he tapped the glowing force field, causing it to hum and crackle. Willow looked up as Alec pointed to the burning patch of earth caused by Spike’s bomb. She looked at it, then back at Alec, confused. He traced a circle in the air with two fingers. Willow nodded hurriedly in understanding and dug into her bag, manifesting a lighter. She held it up for him to see; he smiled and gave her a thumbs up before righting himself back onto the roof of the bus.

He turned to Spike.

“Watch this,” he muttered as he dodged a lightening bolt thrown by a flying mage. “Angel! Faith! Xander! Close ranks!” Alec yelled. They looked up at him, and moved closer to the bus.

Spike shot him a quizzical look.

“What the hell are you do-”

With a whoosh, the fire burning on the ground blazed up suddenly, catching the lightening-bolt tossing warlock across the head. There was a scream as the mage plummeted to the earth. Alec grinned as he pointed to the flame.

“Look!” he whooped.

Spike followed his glance and his eyes widened by what he saw. The fire had elongated and had begun to completely encircle the bus in a roaring wall of fire. The blond vampire whistled.

“You do have her cycle memorized, right, mate?” he quipped lightly.

Alec grinned, but then his face morphed into one of alarm and he pointed.

“Spike! On your left!”

Spike whipped around just in time to see a flying mage, completely immersed in flames and out of control slam hard into him. Spike yelled in pain and plunged off the bus, straight towards the burning wall of flame.

“Spike!” Alec cried out and dove, catching the vampire by the foot just as the hair on his head came into brief contact with the flaming wall.

“Bloody hell!!” Spike cried, slapping the fire out.

Alec hauled Spike back up onto the roof of the RV, dumping him unceremoniously on his backside. Spike landed with a grunt, then looked up at his friend and offered him a jaunty salute. Alec sighed in relief and turned… just in time to see a warlock that hadn’t been there before smash a fist into his face. There was a flash of light as Alec toppled from the camper roof, hitting the ground hard. He coughed and spit out sand before looking up at the warlock.

The mage put his hands together and slowly pulled them apart, revealing a wicked looking blade made up of pure light, and, with a war cry, leapt from the bus, the blade aimed straight at Alec’s heart. The half demon tried in vain to roll away or shadowport, but he had no room to manoeuver. The blade descended… and with a bestial roar, Spike clotheslined the warlock hard, sending him sprawling away. The vampire grabbed his head and groaned in pain, but waved Alec off when he tried to help.

“I owed you, mate,” he replied through gritted teeth.

Alec nodded and turned back to the mage, who had gotten to his feet and had once again put his hands together.

“I’ve seen this trick already,” Alec commented and, with a growl, leapt out with a flying kick, black boots slamming hard into his opponent’s face. The mage spun around, dazed, as Alec landed and proceeded to pummel him with a rapid-fire barrage of punches and kicks.

Spike saw this and grinned.

“Kick his ass!” he cried.

Turning, he saw Xander struggling with another mage. Snatching up a handful of dirt, the vampire yelled out, “Hey Merlin!” When the mage stopped to turn to him, Spike threw the grit into his eyes. The mage released Xander to wipe at his eyes, giving Xander a chance to slam a fist across his head and send him spinning away.

“Thanks!” Xander yelled out. Spike nodded and turned to the next fight.

Meanwhile, Alec had finished a particularly brutal combination on the energy mage, ending with a wrench to the mage’s arm, dislocating it with a snap. The person cried out in pain, and Alec frowned.

It was a woman’s cry.

Jerking the mage up, he ripped the mask from the mage’s face, revealing a girl of no more than fifteen. She had short blond hair and a nose ring. A pair of teardrops were tattooed crudely on her face. Alec frowned in puzzlement.

“What the-” he began.

The woman took advantage of Alec’s momentary surprise and slammed an elbow into him. Alec grunted in pain and released her as the woman put her hands together. Her teardrop tattoos started to glow as she conjured another energy blade. With a roar, she charged the dazed shadowmancer.

“Now that wasn’t very nice,” a voice came from Alec's right.

He turned just in time to see Angel come barreling in, tackling the young woman hard. She fell to the ground with the dark-haired vampire on top of her. He quickly turned her over and reared a fist back, then froze.

The woman’s mouth sagged open like a fish, blood trickling out of it, her face freezing into a death grimace. Angel looked down and, with a start, realized that she had fallen on her own energy blade. A hideous burn blazed right over her heart, the organ having been seared in half. He looked up at her in sudden comprehension.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely. The young girl didn’t respond, merely pointed with a trembling hand at Angel’s face.

“Angelus,” she croaked in horrified recognition, then added something in a language that turned Angel’s blood cold. The hand fell away and the girl shuddered once, then lay still. Angel got off of her, his expression completely stricken.

“It was an accident, I didn’t mean to,” he whispered to himself mantra-like.

Alec and Spike jumped down from the roof of the RV and Alec suddenly grabbed his arm.

“Angel! She’s dead!”

Alec’s words brought Angel back to reality like a bucket of cold water. The vampire turned to him, his brown eyes wide.

“It was an accident, she was just a child,” he whispered hoarsely, "She's dead."

“So are we, if we don't get our bloody arses in gear, now move! Now!”

He shoved Angel towards the burning wall of flame still surrounding the camper. “Go get Buffy and Dad!”

Angel nodded, and, wrapping his long coat around him, took a running start and leapt through the fiery wall. He landed on the other side and rolled, stripping from the burning jacket and throwing it away. A heavy hand fell onto his shoulder. He spun around, fists at the ready.

“Angel!” Buffy cried.

Angel lowered his hands in recognition.

“Buffy,” he sighed. “Where’s Giles?”

Buffy jerked her head towards the complex.

“He went back inside, said he was going to try to wrangle up some help. Nobody in there is willing to come out and lend us a hand, though,” she spat out the last bit.

Angel nodded.

“Yeah, I noticed that. Duck!” he yelled.

Buffy did a split and Angel slammed a hard fist into another mage that had come up behind her, before grabbing his shoulder and propelling him through the fire. He heard the mage collide hard with the metal RV and smiled grimly.

“Who are these guys?” he asked, looking around at the chaos surrounding them.

“Group of renegade wizards. They’re after the Estate, something about them going for the most powerful source of mag–”

Buffy stopped, her eyes widening. “Dawn,” she whispered. She spun to Angel.

“They’re after Dawn!” she yelled.

Wasting no time, Angel gathered her up in his arms, and, covering her with his body, leapt back through the flame, they rolled on the ground and came to their feet before Spike, Faith, Alec, and Xander.

“They’re after Dawn!” Buffy repeated.

Alec’s face tightened into a mask of cold rage.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” he growled, his voice about as lethal as Buffy had ever heard it. With a growl, Alec leapt to the top of the RV, his eyes dissolving into pools of roaring darkness.

“Alec!” Buffy yelled after him.

Alec raised his arms high into the sky and his coat exploded into a huge rolling darkness, flaring out behind him like huge rippling wings. The jacket became even larger and wrapped around the RV, shielding it from the attackers and blocking anyone inside from seeing out.

"They don't need to see what happens next," Alec gurgled in an inhuman voice, then fell to his knees and howled in pain as darkness erupted out of his body, seeping out of the pores of his flesh like an oil slick and writhing up his skin.

Within seconds he was encased in a writhing second skin of oily darkness. Speckles of white and gray marred the surface as his face became a bone white mask accentuated by streaks of darkness.

"Time to die," roared the thing that had once been Alec.

He leapt down from the RV, landing on the opposite side of the others as he didn't want them to see this either, and began to attack. He had grown huge, midnight-black claws and he used them to slash and tear at their attackers, who died screaming and clutching weeping, bloody wounds.

Some came with magic – fire, and ice, and lightening, but as they struck Alec's oily armor, it was only absorbed in the darkness, like a light being flung down a bottomless well from which there was no escape from the crushing blackness.

Alec seized one by the head and twisted savagely; vertebrae snapped like kindling and the body went rag-doll limp. He tossed it away and moved on to the next, a youth no older than seventeen wielding a crowbar. Alec snatched the weapon from the youth and lashed out with his claws. A splash of blood, a scream, and the boy fell dead.

A flicker of movement caught the half-demon’s attention and he turned. Anya was staring wide-eyed and face stark white in horror.

"Take cover!" Alec screeched, a high pitched howling sound like the wail of some ancient wounded reptile.

"Demon!" A voice cried out from behind him.

He turned and a bolt of pure light slammed hard into his chest, rocketing him backwards into the RV with enough force to send the huge vehicle rocking on its wheels.

Alec coughed in pain, the darkness draining away from him for a moment, exposing just his face as he looked up to see a flying woman with silver hair descend from the skies to land on the ground and advance on him.

"Now you will pay for your…" Her voice trailed off as she stared at Alec in wide-eyed shock. "Blessed Hecate!"

Alec looked down at himself: his torso had been blown apart by the blast, charred bits of viscera and cauterized organs fell wetly out of his body, fused into a solid, disgusting mass. The blast should have blown clean through him, but instead of a hole, there was a vast swirling darkness, a great vortex that crackled with purple energy and took up his entire chest cavity.

Alec looked up to meet the woman's eyes, his expression sliding from shock right into something that could only be described as gloating as his torso began to knit itself back together.

"Nice trick. My turn."

Frantically, the woman threw another bolt of magic. Alec called forth a shield of swirling darkness from his hand that absorbed the bolt.

"Word of advice - never wound what you cannot kill," Alec hissed through oily black teeth.

The woman took to the sky again, frantically, but the younger Giles had no interest in letting his prey escape. He snatched up the crowbar the dead boy had been using and squeezed the tip - darkness oozed from his grasp and dissolved a portion of the end, leaving it pointed and sharp.

Alec conjured a darkness tendril, wrapped it around the other end of the makeshift harpoon, took aim, and hurled it.

"Come to me," he whispered as the weapon hurtled through the sky and, with a cry, the woman was impaled through the shoulder by the sharpened missile.

She fell to the ground hard and with a sob of pain as Alec retracted the line, dragging her towards him like a fish on a hook.

Something roared off to Alec's left and he turned just in time to see a blurred shape, oddly resembling a panther made of stone, slam into him like a freight train. Alec lost his grip on the harpoon and the silver-haired woman was left limp on the ground. She tried to pull at the harpoon and gasped in sheer agony as she realized that the weapon, coated in liquid darkness, began to consume her shoulder, cell by cell.

Alec thrashed with the creature that roared and snarled at him like a wild cat: it was a wild cat, but it was made of stone, not flesh, and it was enraged beyond all measure. Alec fought desperately to keep the creature’s jaws from his neck as it snapped at him. Suddenly, the young man spat at the creature’s eyes, and it was struck by a solid glob of oily darkness, making it wail in pain and leap back as the material began to eat away at its forehead. It roared and charged at Alec again and the young man caught it by both upper and lower jaws. For a moment the pair stood like that, beast on its hind legs trying to clamp down with its jaw, demon on its feet prying it apart.

Alec jerked, there was a loud crack, and the cat yowled in pain and fell to the ground, mewling in pain.

"Onyx!" the silver-haired witch cried and she staggered to her feet and charged.

Alec readied himself for another attack, but instead she fell to her knees in the dirt, disheveled, bloody, and ragged looking where once she had been regal, and cradled the wounded beast in her arms. The cat creature looked up at her and mewled softly in pain and tried to nuzzle her hand even as the blob of oily darkness Alec had spat upon it was eating its way through its head.

The silver-haired woman looked up at Alec and her expression was one of immense sorrow.

"Whatever evil you intend, Spaarti, spare the innocent of this hall, I beg of you!"

The darkness drained from Alec's body, revealing a young man, pale, frightened, and horrified by what he had done. Whatever this woman was, regardless of whether or not she had attacked him first, this was not a creature of evil.

"You're not after Dawn?"

"No, I'm the protector of this place, my name is Marlena. You're not of the Spaarti?"

Alec shook his head vigorously and dropped down beside her, gently touching the dying beast.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"You didn't think! You're just like he was - a violent vicious animal! Do you care for anything, DUSK, or is your hunger for death all that matters to you?" Marlena cried, tears of sorrow and rage scalding a wet trail down her face.

Gently, Alec placed his hands over the cat's head.

"I care," was all he said as he closed his eyes for a moment.

There was a slight sound, like water through a straw, and the stain of inky darkness spreading across Onyx's face like a cancer receded like the tide and vanished under Alec's touch.

Marlena gasped in amazement, gently stroking the cat's head. It was still badly damaged, but the cat was no longer dying.

Alec gestured at the harpoon still lodged in her shoulder.

"May I please help you with that?"

She hesitated, then nodded. Alec carefully took the weapon in both his hands, closed his eyes and slowly the weapon began to dissolve. Within moments it was nothing more than wisps of shadow stuff that vanished like smoke into the night air. She gasped in relief and fell boneless upon Onyx's flank as the pain ceased.

"I'm sorry," the young man whispered.

Marlena looked up at him then.

"One day, Alec;, that will not be enough." Marlena took a handful of dirt and, packing it into Onyx's wounds, chanted softly. Within seconds the cat was healed and it purred happily, though it glared warily at Alec.

"Hey!" a voice called out.

Alec turned to see Buffy and the others running towards them.

He turned to Marlena. "What are you going to tell them?"

"The truth; that one of the Spaarti got in a lucky shot and you saved my life; a half truth, if not an outright lie," Marlena replied with a slight smile.

Alec returned it cautiously. "Thank you."

Gingerly he reached out and scratched the stone cat behind its ears. Onyx looked dubious for a moment but then, amazingly, began to purr and lean into his touch. Alec looked up in shock.

"How is this possible?"

Marlena smiled again. "Onyx forgives quickly, it's a lesson you should consider learning."

By now the others had reached them. Giles looked down at his son.

“I see you’ve taken my request to show more cautionary behavior in combat to heart,” he chided his son gently.

Alec raised an eyebrow. “Don’t start with me, Dad,” he growled.

Giles laughed and shook his head as the others helped Marlena and Alec to their feet to sit upon the back of a giant red tortoise that had lumbered up to them.

Marlena took Alec's hand in hers and squeezed tightly, reassuringly. Alec looked at her and smiled, softly and with intense gratitude. He felt something inside relax a little, unclench and let the light in, and it felt good. He turned his glance to his father.

“Dad?”

“Yes, son?”

“Can I ask you a very important question?”

“Yes, son?”

“Was I hit on the head or am I sitting on a big red turtle?”



“So, what were they after?” Anya asked as she helped bandage Xander’s burn.

Buffy and Giles had just explained their encounter in the asylum and everyone was seated in a circle outside the bus. The former vengeance demon would occasionally sneak worried peeks at Alec, who appeared to be oblivious to it all, sagged in an exhausted heap against Willow, who looked like she was ready for a nap herself. Faith had offered to stay behind on the bus with Dawn since Buffy wasn’t sure she wanted Dawn to hear everything they’d be discussing.

Marlena shrugged.

“The Spaarti tribe,” Marlena explained, “are renegade mages. They come up from the city every six months or so and attempt a raid on the Estate.”

“They’re children,” Angel put in quietly. Everyone turned to look at him. “I got a good look at one before…” His voice trailed away and he looked down.

Buffy put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Alec had filled them all in on what had happened.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she whispered fiercely, her voice full of compassion.

Spike did his best to ignore them… and ignore the growing discomfort right where his unbeating heart lie cold in his chest.

Angel sighed and shook himself.

“They’re also Romany.” He looked up at Buffy. “One of them recognized me as Angelus, the cursed. She spoke in the gypsy tongue.”

Giles frowned.

“Gypsies? From Jenny’s tribe?” he asked.

Angel shook his head.

“I don’t know, but if they were then they might have been after me, for vengeance against… things,” he finished quietly.

“The gypsies are big into the whole ‘eternal vengeance’ thing,” Willow put in softly, resting against Alec. They both looked like they needed a serious nap.

Marlena sighed.

“It could be any number of things - Angel, Dawn, the Estate. The point is that they’ll be back and probably in larger numbers. We’ve never had a problem fighting them back before. But they’ve gotten a lot stronger lately.” Marlena shook her head. “I don’t think you should stay here anymore.” She turned to the horizon which was beginning to lighten.

Spike and Angel were already on their feet, the younger only stopping to place a kiss on Buffy’s cheek, who smiled and patted his hand, before he followed Angel onto the bus.

Marlena smiled wryly.

“I see the trend of Slayers falling in love with vampires hasn’t changed,” she commented wryly.

Buffy regarded her, surprised.

“I was always under the impression that it was just slightly unusual for the Slayer to be dating her immortal enemies,” she quipped sardonically.

Marlena smiled and shook her head.

“Unusual, yes, but not unknown. In my youth I was quite taken with a young vampire named Marcus.” She smiled slightly at the memory. “He was six-feet tall, dark, and brooding.” The silver-haired woman smiled wryly and gestured to the bus. “I’m sure you can relate, Buffy,” she added knowingly.

The Slayer in question smiled and bit her lip.

“Yeah, I can picture it,” she replied non-committaly.

Willow and Xander snorted slightly in disbelief, but didn’t say anything.

Marlena continued.

“He was a vampire, make no mistake, he could be pretty brutal. But he was also a poet, and a romantic, and a gentleman.” She smiled, casting Buffy a sisterly look. “You should have seen our bed, covered with roses every night,” she informed the younger Slayer.

Buffy smiled.

“That sounds romantic,” she commented. “So what happened?”

Marlena sighed and shook her head.

“He died along with everyone else in the Hellmouth, that day,” she wiped at her eyes a little, as Giles frowned.

“There was a vampire amidst the Order?” he asked disbelievingly.

Marlena composed herself and responded.

“Yes. He served as our guide into the Hellmouth, he led us to its resting place,” she smiled softly, “you should have heard the fuss the Crusaders put up when they heard a vampire was going to be leading them to the mouth of Hell.” She shook her head. “Several centuries of dogma is not an easy thing to shrug off,” she commented before falling silent, lost in her own memories.

“Anyhow,” she finally spoke after a long silence, “ after he died, I was a lost soul. His death, combined with the death of my order and the horrors of the Hellmouth...” Marlena frowned as if trying to remember a detail she’d forgotten, then shook her head. “Anyhow, after I died at the asylum, I spent several quiet centuries alone. I had my work, my magic, and my patients, but I still missed Marcus terribly,” she smiled slightly.

“And then he came,” she shook her head wryly and turned to Buffy. “You would think I had learned my lesson after becoming involved with one vampire,” she chuckled self-deprecatingly, “but those eyes and that accent...”

Marlena closed her eyes and shuddered deliciously, suddenly looking very much like a young teenager in love instead of a thousand-year-old ex-Slayer turned witch risen from the grave. She sighed and opened her eyes. Buffy regarded her in shock.

“You don’t mean… DRACULA?” she asked aghast.

Marlena smiled.

“The one and only, though Vlad always did insist on being referred to as ‘Count Dracula”. She grinned as her voice became a pretty good impression of the regal vampire’s accent.

Buffy shook her head in awe.

“You got wild with Dracula?” she repeated.

Marlena grinned naughtily.

"Apparently, the Count made it a point of honor to seduce the Slayer of each generation.” She blew a lock of silvery hair from her face. “Men with their conquests. Living or dead, it’s all about what they can brag to their friends,” she commented sardonically.

“On behalf of my gender – hey!” Xander put in.

Alec snorted wryly as Giles cleared his throat.

“The Count told us he was unaware of the location of the Estate,” he ventured.

Marlena scoffed and shook her head in a gesture of one part affection, one part gentle exasperation.

“Well, that sounds like Vlad, all right,” she turned to Buffy. “He loves to play mind games. Riddles, puzzles - he’s not happy unless he’s got a woman’s mind in knots and her heart in the same shape. He’s like a child in that way.” She grinned. “I love and adore him, but I wouldn’t trust that evil creature within fifty feet of the Key,” she advised.

Alec frowned.

“Odd that you say that,” he commented. “He was the one that sent us on this merry romp to begin with.” He regarded the ex-Slayer with dark eyes. “He seems pretty intent on seeing the Hellmouth eradicated. Claimed it posed a threat to his homeland.”

Marlena snorted gently.

“Vlad always was a patriot at heart. Some things never change,” she sighed softly.

Buffy spoke up.

“So, hold up, Dracula tries to get freaky with every Slayer he encounters?” she asked disbelievingly, perhaps a little irked that she had not been alone in the charming vampire’s affections as far as Slayers went. Alec was apparently having the same thought because he flashed his sister a weary grin as Marlena resumed speaking.

“Yes. During his breathing days he fell deeply in love with a Slayer,” she began, “and when Vlad fell for someone- WHOO!” she exhaled hard. “Elisabeta was his whole world. When she was killed, ...” she shook her head sadly. “Well, Vlad didn’t have much left and the transition between living and undead was not a drastic one as he tells it,” she sighed.

“Anyhow, he's spent centuries seeking out Slayers, hoping that one of them might be the reincarnated spirit of his lost love. Vlad was obsessed,” she added mournfully, “and every time, it would just be another disappointment. He’d leave, usually leaving them heartbroken, or he’d kill them in a fit of rage and turn them into vampires in remorse, but that didn't happen until much later.”

Buffy gasped. “He KILLED them?!?” she asked, aghast.

Marlena nodded. “Those three vampire brides he travels with? Each one of them was, at one point, a Slayer,” Marlena explained.

Giles blanched, remembering his own encounter with the amorous vampire women.

“Those were Slayers?” he asked aghast.

Marlena nodded.

“He keeps them around because they most resemble his lost love. I think he keeps them around just to torture himself,” she sighed and turned to Buffy. “Usually, the romantic vampires are also the professional martyrs,” she commented.

Buffy nodded, still a little stunned.

“Yeah, I can relate,” she replied softly.

Willow piped in.

“So, did Sasha tell you where the Everstone was?” she asked.

Buffy snapped out of her reverie and shook her head.

“Only in the most cryptic of ways,” she bit out.

Giles rooted around in his pocket for the firestone and handed it to the witch. The instant her fingers came in contact with it, the stone flared to life as the odd design appeared over her hand; unlike with Buffy, it flowed smoothly, its image unwavering and crystal clear. Willow peered at it as it morphed and shifted hypnotically.

“I’ve seen something like this before,” she said thoughtfully, frowning at the flowing geometric design.

Buffy frowned at it.

“It would barely work for me, and it wouldn’t work at all for Giles,” she commented.

Marlena spoke up.

“It reacts to magical power,” she told them, “the stronger the magic users arête, the clearer the image is.”

Willow tore her gaze from the swirling image and frowned questioningly at Marlena.

“Arête?” she asked puzzled.

Marlena nodded.

“Arête is the measure of a magic users power. It’s their connection to the weave; the place where all magic resides. The more arête a person possess, the more powerful magic they can perform.” she gestured to the swirling design hovering above Willow’s hand. “The fact that it’s flowing and shining as brightly and smoothly as it is, suggests you must be tremendously gifted, especially given how young you are,” she commented appreciatively.

Willow beamed and turned to Alec.

“Did you hear that, Alec? I’m tremendously gifted,” she reiterated, her tiny form swelling with pride.

Alec chuckled and stroked the girl’s hair.

“No questions about that,” he smiled indulgently.

Buffy frowned.

“Hang on, this thing worked for me, too,” she tilted her head. “It worked about as well as Giles’ old Citroen, but it did work.” Giles glared at her as Marlena smiled. “I’ve never cast any magic before.”

“No, but I’m willing to bet that you’ve had powerful magic cast upon you once or twice. That can leave just enough of an afterglow to get a spark,” Marlena replied.

Buffy nodded, remembering Willow’s enjoining spell that summoned the Prime Slayer, and more recently the spell of time distortion in the bar that had not only helped her defeat Beth Gul-Abz, but also had saved her brother’s life.

Marlena shook her head. “Besides, what makes you think it was reacting to you?” the older woman asked.

Buffy frowned. “The fact that I was holding it in my hand sort of suggested it,” she responded dryly.

Marlena frowned and turned to Giles.

“She really doesn’t know?” she asked in disbelief.

Giles frowned, not understanding. Marlena threw her hands up in the air.

“What are you people teaching the Slayer? The etiquette of scones and tea?” she demanded.

Giles just took off his glasses and pinched the skin above his nose, sighing.

“Excuse me?” Buffy put in. “What is it that I’m supposed to be clued into here?” she demanded.

Marlena sighed and turned to Buffy.

“The Slayer is not just one woman, Buffy, rather she is like a living collection of all the Slayers that came before her,” she explained quietly.

Buffy’s eyes bulged out of her head in shock.

“Come again?” she demanded breathlessly.

Marlena nodded. “To every generation, a Slayer is born. When that Slayer dies, the next one is called, whether that next one is four, fourteen, or forty,” she explained. “The strongest traits of the Slayers that came before her become a part of her, infusing her with their strength and stamina, as do their memories and sometimes their magic,” she gestured at the stone that Willow held, “hence the stone’s reaction to you. Hasn’t the Watcher's Council told you that the Slayer gets stronger with every generation?” she demanded incredulously.

Buffy, looking shaken right down to the core of her soul at this notion of containing the spirits of other Slayers within her, just shook her head numbly.

“It’s never been brought to my attention that this is so,” Giles ventured carefully. “Although, I have to admit, my relationship with the Council has been strained as of late.”

Marlena sighed disgustedly.

“Those IDIOTS!” she declared loudly, earning stares from everyone. Marlena reached over and placed a warm hand on Buffy’s shoulders.

“I’m so sorry, dear, you were supposed to know. I can’t even begin to fathom what the Watcher’s Council was thinking by not telling you any of this,” she sighed and elaborated.

“The Awakened Slayer has all the memories, and the powers, of all the Slayers that came before, along with one or two of their personality traits.” She turned to address the group.

“This is what Vlad is seeking so desperately, a Slayer who possesses enough of his lost love’s memories and feelings to qualify as his Elisabeta reincarnated, but they’re all buried deep in the Slayer’s soul, like in a safety deposit box.” She gave Buffy a sympathetic look. “Dealing with just one lifetime of memories can be brutal, dealing with several upon several can be downright excruciating, so the powers remain dormant in the Slayer's subconscious, until at or about her eighteenth birthday. Then the Council administers the Cruciamentum.”

“That was done,” Giles chimed in.

Marlena snorted.

“It’s an outdated exercise in cruelty, it should have never survived past the dark ages,” she bit out.

Giles nodded, remembering telling Quentin the very same thing. Marlena resumed.

“In any case, the Slayer is stripped of her powers and forced to fight a powerful vampire in adverse circumstances. Then, upon succeeding, the Council performs the ritual of Awakening and then the Slayer is suffused with the power and memories of all the Slayers that came before her.” She shook her head in bewilderment. “I don’t understand what went wrong.”

“This ritual was never performed,” Giles replied. “Buffy killed the vampire on her eighteenth birthday, without her powers, and all she received was ‘Good show, well done, girl’ from the Council.” He smirked slightly. “I also got fired.”

Marlena shot him an inquiring look.

“On what grounds?” she demanded.

“I revealed what had been happening to her in regards to her loss of power and then assisted her against the vampire, who had killed two other Watchers, turning one of them,” he explained.

Marlene’s eyes narrowed to slits.

“They fired you… for that?” she demanded quietly.

“Yes,” Giles added cautiously, unclear as to the ex-Slayers redoubled fury.

“Are they INSANE?” she yelled. “You should have been PROMOTED, not fired!” she cried.

Buffy looked up in shock.

“What?” she asked.





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