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Chapter Six

She’d been following him for a week before he revealed he knew. It bugged him that someone would find him that important to shadow his every move, rendering it impossible for him to go about his business in private. He wondered briefly if this was how Buffy had felt, but her name made him ache and he forcefully shoved her out of his mind. Her memory had no place with him now—not when he’d stepped out of his Angel shell and became the third incarnation of a vampire in his lengthy and confusing lifetime.

He had no name for who he was now. He wasn’t Angelus but he wasn’t Angel, either. He was something shady and in between, neither good nor truly evil. He was ambiguous and he hated that, but he was at a loss as to how to change it without sliding fully one way or the other.

When she’d joined the hunt tonight, he sensed her difference immediately—and as much as he hated himself for it, it thrilled him. She reeked of power, of opportunity, and as much as she was born a thing of the light, already he could taste the swirls of darkness that was at her very tasty looking centre.

That thought should have shocked him, but he was no stranger to slayer attraction. He was still convinced that what he’d felt for Buffy had surpassed all human depths of love, but then his lust for Faith had always managed to muddy the waters. Angel had always known somewhere under the surface of consciousness that fucking Faith raw would have left his soul exactly where he’d left it. He didn’t love Faith, but what he did feel for her also fit into the file of unexplainable superhuman emotion. The bond between him and slayers was obviously something far superior to any relationship he could have with a human—with another vampire. With Darla.

This girl…this Charlotte was making him feel it all over again and with a sense of impending doom, Angel let himself lower the walls of defence and clear the path in for her.

He felt more restless than usual tonight—unwilling to lead in a game of cat and mouse for hours. He was tired of waiting for her to make her move, even if the emergence of her powers meant she would likely make it soon. The reality behind her acquisition briefly made him gasp but then he locked down the part of him that would dwell on pain and sealed it shut. He would not think of her, or wonder if it was Faith that had surrendered her lot to allow a new slayer to be called forth. He held no surprise that no one would inform him of either tragic circumstance—he was distanced from everyone that would have bothered to speak of it to him.

He perched up high on a rooftop, overlooking the alleys as she made her way through—now more desperate as she’d managed to lose sight of him. Angel smiled—it was cold and calculating and purposely bereft of the finer feelings. He had nothing of him left to care about her. She’d wandered into his world—had thirsted to be apart of the world where night ruled and day was just the moment allowing one to lick their wounds in safety before it started all over again. She’d come looking for him—wanted him for some reason of which only she knew—and he was decided about his own path in this tragic drama. He’d take her, probably eat her all up, and he’d enjoy it while he could.

Maybe then he’d be able to know exactly who he was: Angel, or a fool.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Charlotte was pumped.

Six vampires had crossed her path so far this night and not a one had lasted beyond their introductory snarl before she’d sent their ashes scattering upon the wind. She hadn’t yet worked up a sweat nor had she run out of breath during any of the fights—thus was her reward of slayer power. The skills expected of a slayer had been drummed into her since she could walk, Ethan always being just far enough inside the outskirts of her life to help her master moves she’d always felt came intuitively. Her mother had kept him away as much as she’d dared, and while Charlotte had no clue what secret they held between them that gave her mother enough fear to not let Ethan completely go, she was grateful for it because it had kept him in her life.

It felt amazing to have ancient power rushing through her veins. It felt as elemental to her survival as breathing; it was right and with that belief came resentment that it hadn’t been her birthright. That she’d had to be given it by a well-meaning or manipulative daddy-figure instead of inheriting it through another girl’s death like she should have. These thoughts left a bitter taste in her mouth and Charlotte wondered why it was she’d been dealt the lot she had. Why her mother had taken her away from anyone she might have considered family to keep a secret she’d obviously not wanted in the first place? Why she’d been the product of a dysfunctional relationship and the daughter of a man who hadn’t wanted children at all, but abhorred her mother when it became a reality he had to face. He hadn’t of course—he’d run as fast as he could and abandoned them both. If Charlotte actually knew who the man was she’d hate his ever-living guts. As it was she just apathetically dismissed his existence, preferring to think of Ethan as her one and only guide through this world in which she found herself.

She hadn’t been looking hard when she finally happened upon him. His status of vampire buzzed at the base of her neck and Charlotte smiled. He had power along with age, and rage hummed beneath the surface like a tantalising gift. He was prowling the streets of LA with a hammer string temper, just waiting for some poor unfortunate to trigger him beyond his last measure of control and Charlotte felt the challenge of it rise up and kiss her cheek. This was what she wanted—what she’d left the hotel tonight seeking. Not just him, but the fight he’d bring her.

Charlotte followed stealthily, keeping enough distance to make him aware she was there but not close enough to be seen. The loss of his trail was sudden, however, and she pulled up short in an alley mystified and deeply disappointed. The anticipation that had bubbled up inside slowly froze. Adrenaline cooled and with it her strength was sapped. Shoulders slumping, Charlotte battled to make a decision. She’d pegged her whole night on encountering Angel, on battling him. She’d relished the opportunity to test herself on a vampire that would likely still have enough of his soul intact to spare her life should she not be up to the challenge. That he’d escaped without her even noticing made the newly made slayer weak with failure.

Something descended on her back with force and Charlotte was slammed into the ground, a ragged scream erupted from her throat as her face got close and personal with the gritty cement of an alley sidewalk. With a jolt she knew it was Angel, identifying him with the inherent skills of her station in ways she couldn’t explain. With a move she’d never found possible before, she rolled and tossed him from her, grinning at how easy it was to remove the weight from her back. Angel glided through the air until he crashed to a stop against a shop wall and then he fell into a crouch, dark eyes peering up at her with such menace.

“Hush, hush sweet Charlotte. Wherever did you get your powers from?” His lips were twisted in a smile that no one could mistake for friendliness; it just made Charlotte’s heart pound with excitement.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she taunted, watching closer than he’d expect for a telltale clue that he might be hurting over the obvious answer. His eyes shuttered before he could fully reveal any true emotion, though his lips never lost their curve.

“Not particularly,” he confided and she was for the moment utterly convinced he couldn’t care less about any other slayer of his acquaintance. “What matters is you’re a slayer. Just so happens I have a thing for slayers.”

Oh she knew that all right. She knew that in spades. Ethan had told her the history of Angelus and how the entry of his soul had turned him from a hideous monster to a creature barely presenting as a man. The monster presiding within him fascinated her and Charlotte was determined to explore that challenge to the full.

Drawing herself up to her full height, no slouch at five feet eight inches even without heels, she primed herself for the fight of her life. Her hand flexing around her stake, body tingling with awareness and passion, eyes glinting with want, Charlotte knew to the depths of her soul that it was one fight she wanted more than her life.

With a growl that echoed up and down the alley, he launched himself at her, black coat flapping out around him like wings. Slayer instinct took over. Before his hands could clasp hold of her body, she’d twisted and spun away from him, her left leg extending and her foot making impact with his gut. Lightning strikes of power exploded throughout her body and Charlotte really became the slayer, ducking and punching and taking it with all the finesse of a girl born to rid the world of the vampire menace.

The battle grew bloody and more violent, Angel’s face contorting to that of the demon as his fists made determined strikes on her body. His hands tore at her clothing leaving bloodied slashes on her flesh—arms, abdomen, legs—and she just got hotter, faster.

After an intense hour of inflicting every punishment on a vampire that a slayer could mete out, Charlotte couldn’t deny her muscles were tired. She didn’t want the night to end but she was starting to make mistakes. Just as she’d decided it was time to make a strategic withdrawal, Angel flipped over her, slipping his arms through hers and bracing her hard against his body. His fangs brushed her neck before a rough tongue licked the flesh beneath her ear. Heart thudding painfully, eyes wide open in terror, Charlotte wondered how she could have taken his figurative leash for granted. Realising she’d be the slayer for less than a day, a sob rose in her throat at the very second fangs broke the skin and the vampire fed.

From a distance Charlotte could hear him gulping her blood, one arm holding her against him as a hand smoothed down her side. Before she could properly process his motives, his calloused palm was skating over her belly, up her ribs and cupping around the ample curve of her breast. Charlotte moaned, her body on fire and her head growing fuzzy. He squeezed her nipple hard as his fangs withdrew and the pleasure that erupted across her skin took all the energy she had left.

The world turned black and Charlotte slumped unconscious in a vampire’s arms.





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