Buffy laughed at a joke, let her hand brush against his arm, her eyes linger a bit on his face. Every movement, every word was a carefully constructed play, crafted and practiced. David smiled brilliantly at her, and Buffy felt a twinge of regret at her deception.
But only a twinge.
After all, she was just moving on.
***
Spike settled into something of a routine. He’d have breakfast and therapy with Sirra, then Alanna would pop up and they’d explore Haven. Leto was tagging along more often, and Spike was developing a deep sense of respect for the elder vampire. Not once did he mock Spike’s condition, or make him feel belittled. Despite his age and power, Leto never acted like Spike was inferior, which in Spike’s experience was not the way most vampires acted. He was musing about the odd turn his life had taken when Leto popped in.
“Ah, hi. Can I…come in?”
“Sure. Where’s Alanna?”
“Yeah, that’s the thing.” Spike arched an eyebrow. Leto seemed...nervous. “She’s…um, well, she’s…not here.”
“What?”
“She’s off on a mission so you’re stuck with me for the day.” It came out in a rush. Spike blinked twice.
“Well alright. What’s the plan?”
“Oh. Right, the plan. Been by the Coven yet?” Spike froze. The Coven? NO he hadn’t been there. Leto may have been different, but there was no way in hell he was setting foot in a building that housed God-knows how many vampires in it. Not stuck in this soddin’ wheelchair.
“Don’t think so, mate.” He felt the weight of Leto’s gaze on him.
“Scared?” Spike whipped around and pinned the black man with icy blue eyes.
“Scared? No. Aiming to survive? Yes.”
“They already know about you. New vamps in Haven? Rarer than you think,” Leto said dryly. Spike folded his arms across his chest and Let sighed deeply. Not a good sign. However, if Spike thought he had anything on Alanna’s stubbornness, he was very wrong. He’d been with Alanna for a long time now, and if she’d taught him anything, it was how to take care of stubbornness.
“Look, if you’re scared and don’t want to go, that’s fine. But you’re not leaving this room until you agree to go.” He almost laughed at the dumbfounded expression on Spike’s face.
“You…you can’t do that. This is Haven, all Rah-Rah Go Christmas and puppy dogs, let’s save the world. You can’t…hold me hostage!”
“Sure I can. Lena’s gone, don’t know when she’ll be back. I’m pretty sure I can convince Sirra you’re not up to exercise. She thinks you’ve been a little overworked as it is. It would be easy.”
“You…that’s wrong!”
“Vampire. Evil. Well. Evil might be a stretch at this point. How about morally ambiguous?” Leto suggested with a shrug. “Look, just come with me. If you don’t like it, you never have to go again.” He waited impatiently for Spike’s acquiescence. He could see the younger man thinking it over, his defenses wearing down, knew what the final answer woul be.
“No more house arrest,” Spike bargained. Leto did a silent Superior Dance.
“Never again, scouts honor.”
“Right. You out date the scouts.”
“Well…” Ok, Spike had him there. “I ate one once?” The two vampires looked at each other for a moment before bursting out laughing.
*** *** ****** *** ****** *** ***
Spike was nervous. The house looked normal from the outside, but he could feel the demonic pull that said vampires. Lots of vampires. Many of the windows were shuttered against he sunlight, though simply so the rooms’ occupants could sleep.
“You’ll be fine,” a gruff voice assured him. Yeah, Leto could say that. He could walk.
Leto wheeled him into a living area. Spike was surprised to see some humans eating in a kitchen, a couple rummaging through the stocked fridge...like they lived here.
“They do,” Leto said. Spike realized belatedly he’d said that last part out loud.
“But…why?”
“Depends. You’d have to ask each one of them. Some of them are servants, sort of a job passed down through the generations. Some of them are lovers. Some of them are…fans of the bite.” Spike’s gaze bore into Leto.
“You let vampires feed off of humans?”
“Everything is voluntary. We take a lot of precautions to make sure of that.”
“If they’re addicted to the bite, that’s not voluntary.” Spike had a flashback to some whey-faced hulk of a man writhing in a vamp suck-house.
“If they’re addicted they can get help. If they want it. Like I said, we have precautions, but we can’t help people who don’t want help. So we make sure they’re safe. Shades of gray, Spike.” Spike felt something uncomfortable stir within him and decided to leave the issue alone.
There were at least fifty vampires in the house, in various stages of rest. And he could feel them all. The Masters, the minions, the childer…and the one vampire sitting across the room in green that felt off, though Spike couldn’t figure out why. His eyes kept straying to him, trying to work out what was wrong. But he just couldn’t figure it out.
“So.” Spike looked around, trying to figure out how to ask his question without coming off as a complete git. Leto was looking at him expectantly, and Spike decided he might as well go ahead and make a fool of himself. “That bloke there, in the green. He feels…different,” he finished lamely. Great, just soddin’ wonderful. Leto turned a speculative eye towards the vampire in question.
“Oh. That’s Vaughn. He’s diligo.”
“What?” Spike asked in confusion.
“Diligo. It’s Latin for favored, loved.”
“I know the word. I don’t know what you mean.” Leto gave him a funny look that made Spike wish he hadn’t asked. Actually, he wished he’d never even thought to ask. “You know, forge—“
“Vaughn was sired as a minion, but he’s smart. Smart enough to control his demon’s impulsiveness and general stupidity. It pleased his Sire. So his Sire elevated him; he’s caught between being a childe and being a minion. He’s…diligo. Favored. Above all other minions; with his Sire's favor, and if he’s slick enough, he could end up having more power than a childe.”
“Could…could he ever become a childe?” Spike asked with exaggerated nonchalance, as if they were discussing the weather. He kept his eyes off of Leto, gazing around the room.
“No-o,” Leto said slowly, “childer and minions are different; one can’t be the other. You have to be turned that way. And only a childe can become Master.” Spike nodded once, studying the fascinating pattern of faux marble on the table top. Should he go for question three? He fidgeted, warring within himself. The desire to keep face, to not let Leto know the extent of his lack of education fought with an overwhelming desire to understand things about vampires that Angel had never taken the time to teach him. The scholar in him—the need to know—was the deciding factor, pushing him to go ahead and ask and deal with the consequences later.
“And what…would you say the…um, difference is between siring a minion and a childe?” Leto didn’t respond immediately. Spike wanted to chalk it up to this being a very complicated issue, but it had been almost a minute of silence. And Spike could feel those glittering green eyes that always stirred a strange emotional response with in him boring into the top of his head. Resigned to his fate, Spike finally met Leto’s gaze. Which was not condescending and dubious but contemplative and…concerned?
“Didn’t your Sire teach you any of this?” he finally asked. Leto watched Spike’s demeanor change, drawing in on himself and erecting a barrier between them, as present and insurmountable as any physical wall. An irrational flair of annoyance at Alanna for leaving him alone to face this raced through him
“’Snot important. You said if I came, you wouldn’t ask again, I want to—“ Leto was suddenly in Spike’s face, his eyes serious.
“Answer me.” It was the voice of an elder vampire commanding the respect and obedience of a younger member. And Spike couldn't help but obey (secretly didn't want to).
“Dru was a bit barmy and Angelus didn’t have time to teach me. He was too busy killin' anything that moved. Taught me some basics, but I learned most of it on m’own.” Spike shrunk back when Leto let out a vicious growl, his vampire face springing forth. Spike noticed with the nonchalance of someone whose death was immanent that every person in the room was focused on the two of them.
“That ape-headed, condescending, know-it all God complexed, broody foreheaded MORON!” Leto growled, shoving himself away from Spike, who got over his surprise quickly because he rather liked what Leto was saying. There was no doubt in Spike’s mind exactly who Leto was talking about.
“You forgot poncy git,” Spike added helpfully, a malicious grin on his full lips.
“I always knew he was a colossal waste of space, but shirking his familial duties is just—“ Leto cut himself off abruptly. “And the bastard's the head of the Aurelius line. Quelle merde.”
“You know Angelus?”
“I’m family, remember?” Leto asked flippantly. “Alright, let’s go.” Spike just sat helplessly as Leto began pushing his chair along; he wasn't in any condition to back up a protest.
“Ah, wh—“
“We’ll start with the fundamentals, move on from there. Master status can only be achieved by a childe, and not any childe at that. Minions’ demons are too weak to ever develop that kind of power and they’re generally too stupid to survive even if they could. Master status takes a combination of many different factors, including something intangible that’s inside each demon. Most of the time, you can feel it; it’s like…a spark that calls one Master to another.
“A lot of Master status has to do with how well blended the demon is. You’re aware by now that every vampire is unique; when a person is turned, the demon doesn’t just take over. If that were the case, we’d all be growling, mindless pack animals who couldn’t even skulk around the fringes of human society. The demon melds with the personality that already exists; that’s why one of the first things a new demon does is hunt down the people in its life. We all carry resentments, usually most strongly towards our own families because we can never really express them, but we’re stopped from carrying those out by the rules of human society. But when those rules suddenly don’t apply any more and you’re stronger, faster, and deadlier than any mere human…”
“You get a killing spree.”
“Exactly. In order to move from being a childe to a Master in your own right, you have to strike a balance. It’s mental and mystical. Some demons will never achieve master status; that’s the spark I’m talking about. Some people don’t have…the will, or the inner resources to make the conversion. There’s also power in names. When someone thinks and calls you a ‘Master,’ there’s a sort of…conveyance. They add to your power; every time someone says something, it adds to it.”
“Like a rumor. It keeps…growing with every telling,” Spike murmured. He was listening avidly to Leto’s words. Spike was barely paying attention to the light and the passing scenery. This is what he’d wanted to know for so many years, but had never been taught.
“Right. That’s a more mystical part of the Master thing. Usually, it takes a lot of time to attaint the amount of respect, and enough of it, to become a Master. Sometimes a Sire will help a childe along by announcing their status to the clan. A sort of cheat, if you will. But killing a slayer works just as well. Now, do you know how to sire a childe as opposed to a minion?”
By the end of the day, Spike’s head was about to explode. Leto had talked nonstop, teaching Spike everything he knew about vampire Lore and legend, and he still wasn’t done. In that one conversation, Spike had learned more about what it meant to be a vampire and their lore than Angelus had ever hinted at knowing. On top of it all, Leto had made up some rather inspired names for Angel. Spike grinned as he recalled some of the more vivid insults and threats Leto had leveled at Spike’s errant sire. Oh, what he would give to put them both in a room together…
[Reviews - 30]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 1190 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +