[Reviews - 249]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2732 times

- Text Size +




***Okay, many of you are going to hate this chapter with a firey passion but I am trying to make a point here so bear with me. Sorry it has taken me so long to update, i've been busy at my fan fic site, it's private 18+ only due to content but if your interested in checking it out send me an email at Revello1620@yahoo.com***



Instead of wasting his anger on Faith, Angel turned and went to the stairs. Buffy was sitting at his kitchen table, her hair streaming down her shoulder while she poked her spoon in the cup of blood in front of her. She reminded him of a child trying to make their broccoli disappear off of their plate with nothing but sheer will alone.

That thought, would have been enough to tame his temper, if he couldn’t see her bite mark glaringly obvious in the soft yellow light. She wasn’t an innocent child, she had chosen to abandon her innocence just like everything else in her life and that mark reminded him of that. It was jagged and torn like an animal had attacked her and since he knew that animal was Spike, his anger intensified ten-fold. “Why did you let him do this to you?”

“I love him.” She said simply, pushing the cup away. The worst of her hunger was gone, so she would take this blood thing one step at a time she decided getting to her feet.

“You told me you didn’t know how to love.” He said striding across the room to stand in front of her.

“I also told you I didn’t have a soul but it appears I was wrong on both counts.” Buffy said calmly, her happy mood rapidly diminishing with each passing second. “Just like I was wrong to blame you over the phone. You were doing your best to help and I was so angry at the Council that you we’re caught in the cross fire.”

“Why Buffy…I need to know why.”

“Why him and not you or why did I become a vamp? You’re going to have to be a bit more specific.” Buffy said leaning back against the counter.

“Why him for starters.”

“With him I felt alive.”

“So you turned around and let him kill you, that’s really intelligent.” Angel said with a loud snort.

“I know you two have some macho pissing contest going but I don’t give a shit. This is my life Angel and I want to be with him and if you would stop interfering in everyone else’s life you might actually find out who you belong with.”

“What in the hell is that suppose to mean?”

“You’re so busy telling everyone how to live their life that there isn’t enough time left for you to figure out your own. Which is exactly what you want. You like being lost in your guilt, it’s comfortable and safe there. After doing the same thing in my own way, I know how easy it is to just stay like that. I was tired of only getting by, I wanted more for myself. You know why, because he makes me believe I deserve more than that. He makes me feel everything, with him I laugh, cry and even stamp my foot in anger. He brings out my emotions effortlessly, because that is just who he is.”

“Are you really happy with this life?” Angel asked, stunned by how different she seemed. His ears told him that he heart did not beat but she seemed more alive than he had ever seen her before. She was also apparently crazy, if she believed that she felt that way about Spike he thought shaking his head.

“I’ve only been dead a couple of hours but I already like it way better than being alive. Except…,” her eyes slid back to the cup of blood on the table.

Understanding her perfectly, he walked over to the glass. He didn’t believe for a second that her relationship with Spike would last very long and he figured that sooner or later he would be able to explore the spark he felt every time he was around her. But with Faith’s warning still fresh in his mind, he would just have to settle for being her friend, he thought bringing his wrist to his lips. His face shifted and like a surgeon with a scalpel, he used his fangs to make a neat incision across his wrist. He had done it deliberately to separate how different he was from her sire.

He tasted his own blood, aged and rich on his tongue like fine wine and moved his hand over the glass. “I am Spike’s grandsire, so you are in our bloodline. Vampire blood can not sustain your body but it can be used to help during the transition. If you don’t feed the hunger completely, your demon will feel threatened and select it’s own victim. The blood of your sire would be better for your first feeding but the blood of anyone from your bloodline will work, to slake your hunger.”

“If this is a typical sire thing, why didn’t Spike say anything?” Buffy asked him suspiciously despite the fact her mouth was watering at the sight of his blood. Slowly it dripped down into the glass like a broken faucet, leaking down fat drops with soft plops of liquid meeting liquid.

“It is one of the old ways and it wasn’t something I shared with his sire, so she did not share it with him. Blood is a precious gift among the Kindred and you should not share your blood with any lightly. Between those of equal power, blood sharing it a sign of respect but it can be given as a gift or a reward to a lesser vampire.” He could smell her hunger in the air, like hotel sheets bearing the haunting reminder of cheap perfume and he felt his own beast respond.

“You think I am beneath you?” She asked, unconsciously licking her lips at the sight of the blood sliding across his wrist like red satin.

Her words, however innocent stirred his lust to the boiling point and he raised his wrist and held it out towards her. Less than a foot divided them and he could see the need in her eyes, eyes that reminded him of the emerald green fields of his homeland. “You’re right, by not offering the blood from my wound to your lips I have insulted you.” His Irish burr had appeared out of nowhere like he had somehow stepped back a century. “I consider you my equal and I offer you not just a taste of my blood but a full drink to erase the insult.”

“Why the ceremony? I don’t understand why your making this out to be such a big deal. You always seem so laid back and suddenly you’re like a vampire right out of a certain best selling novel.” She said breathlessly, hypnotized by the spilt blood. Everything about him, his words, posture and his tone screamed at her to proceed with caution and she wasn’t about to ignore the warning, just because she was hungry. She had been hungry before, so she knew how to handle the gnawing pain slicing through her stomach. But nothing in her past had prepared her for the unfamiliar world she had just found herself in, Vampire politic.

“Vampires are drawn to the hell mouth and they will sense your power and seek you out. These rights and rituals are still practiced by the Old Ones and someday what I am about to show you could be used to save your life or the life of those you hold dear.”

“Wait a second…show me how. Because I hear the words coming out of your mouth but I don’t think you’re telling me exactly what is going .” Buffy said taking a quick step away.

“My sire was embraced by the Master, the leader of the Order of Aurelius. She passed his blood down to me, I in turn passed it to Drusilla and she passed it onto Spike. Now he has shared it with you. That is what bloodline means the Master of the line, passes his blood down through the centuries and now his blood runs through your veins. Over time that connection has become diluted. Darla and I shared blood freely and over time his blood has become a part of my being.”

He paused long enough to give her a soft smile, dark and intimate like a shared secret between two lovers.


“The more of my blood you drink, the more it will become a part of you and with that comes the knowledge of our line. At first glance you will know who of the Kindred is of our bloodline and you will know our ways as if born to them. It’s a weapon that has served me well since my soul was restored and now I offer it to you.” Angel said softly despite the fact that his desire was a tethered beast pounding beneath his chest screaming to be unleashed. His control of his demon, was exquisite, which was why his name had once been a revered whisper upon the lips of the Kindred. Angelus, a master artisan of death and even though it was a title he sought to forget, his control had not wavered as Angel...or so he thought until.

“You can’t claim me Angel,” Buffy said lowering her top enough to expose the second bite mark, a red welt marring the perfection of the creamy rise of her right breast.

Roughly he shoved her back against the counter, his hips grinding against hers as his face shifted to revel his demon. “You wanted this life so now I am going to show you exactly what it means to be a vampire.” He warned her seconds before darting out as quick as a snake and burying his fangs in her neck, covering Spike’s bites.

Like a leech she could feel him sucking her life away and the scent of her blood mingling in the heavy air with his, snapped the last hold of her control. Instead of pushing him away like she had planned, she raised his bloodied wrist to her lips. Greedily she licked at the blood like a cat searching for the wound, only to find that it had already closed. Growling low in her throat, she felt her fangs elongate and since he was biting her, it seemed only fair that she return the favor and the pain she rationalized desperately trying to give herself the illusion that she was still in control.

Wrapping her mouth around his wrist, she pierced his skin sending her fangs down through the narrow membrane of his veins. Blood spurted into her mouth, like a geyser that had been dormant for too long and the contents had finally gathered enough power to seek their release.

Nothing had prepared her for the assault off her senses that her first bite would bring crashing down upon her like a surging wave. Everyone of her senses were engaged, the texture of his skin and warm gelatinous feel of his blood filling her mouth, the scent of his arousal and of all the blood scenting the air like the delicate flowers of spring. Her ears rung with the sound of him feeding at her neck, wet slurps and greedy mummers, but behind her eyes she watched a life that was not her own. With each crimson drop of his blood, she traveled further into the past, a past she had no desire to see.

Unable to stand the images tormenting her brain, she lifted her mouth from his skin and shoved him away. She could feel his fangs ripping through her flesh at the unexpected movement but the physical pain was nothing compared to the crippling doubt filling her with a sense of hopelessness that she had never imagined was possible. For years she had lived without hope and just when she had begun to believe again, she understood how hope was more painful than death. Your body could die only once, twice in some situations but hope could kill you a thousand different ways without a single wound to show for the pain inflicted upon you. In that moment, she felt her connection with Spike and it was like string being pulled taunt until the delicate strands, so strong when woven together finally snapped. Just like she had always feared she was alone again and this time, not even death could save her. She had escaped hell, turned away from heaven and now all that was left for her was a never-ending purgatory.





You must login (register) to review.