Cordelia watched Connor enter the house and couldn’t
believe her eyes.
He had just voluntarily gone inside. He had switched
allegiances and went into enemy camp. Walked into the lion’s den as it were.
There were probably a thousand more clichés, but Cordelia didn’t want to
think of them, they all amounted to the same thing; Connor had taken after his
father, after all.
Where was Xander when she needed a stupid comment designed
to make you laugh and forget, if only for a moment, that things were dire
indeed? Oh, that’s right…never mind. She had seen, over and over again how
Xander had died; the torture, the pain, the taunting from both Buffy and
Angelus. And finally, Buffy draining one of her (her former friend?) dearest
friends. And Cordelia found that she was sorry for Xander’s death; go figure.
But now she had other things to worry about – other than
her obviously impending death – namely Connor voluntarily going into the house
of horrors.
Wait a minute…there was something to that. Why did that
seem familiar?
The visions.
Whatever Willow had done to her hadn’t been solely of the
past, it seemed; either that or The Powers had seen fit to add insult to injury
and send her one if their own visions. And wouldn’t that be just like them,
now when it was way too late. She had seen Connor, felt his conflict that
struggle between the two halves of his soul. Damn it, why hadn’t she seen that
sooner?
Because she hadn’t cared, if she was honest with herself,
hadn’t wanted to know that the boy was more than he let others see, hadn’t
wanted to acknowledge that the son was more like the father than either wanted
to admit. And laying out in the rising sun, naked and burned, her head pounding
in an unending beat, there was nothing left to Cordelia Chase but honesty.
He had given up that fight and embraced the darkness, it
seemed. Though it was possible, Cordelia doubted that Buffy would have had such
a…strangely maternal smile on her face had Connor been there to kill them all.
~~~~~~~~~~
Connor walked through the house, taking in everything, noting escape routes,
exits, rooms, everything that seemed necessary to his survival.
“You needn’t worry about escaping, Connor,” Buffy
said with a smile. “If you want to leave, you’re more than welcomed to at
any time. We won’t stop you.”
His eyes slanted to hers, noting not the anger and hate he
expected to see, but humor in the hazel depths. Somehow he had never associated
demons and humor. Or, for that matter, allowing him free will in this matter.
“You won’t?” He asked, suspicious, “Why not?”
Laughing softly at him, she gestured taking in not only the
room but the entire house. “We did not force you here, did we?” Connor shook
his head no and Buffy went on. “Consider yourself our guest; stay as long as
you like, do whatever you wish, but there is no killing here. Everyone in this
house is under our protection, just as you are.”
Her paused for a moment, looking to his father who had so
far said nothing since the initial greeting, before nodding in agreement.
Angelus studied his son, noting the changes in the boy
since he had last seen him. Connor was thinner, paler, just as muscular as
before, but there was a hungry look to him now, a wildness that hadn’t been
present since his first days back on earth.
“Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat or
drink?” He asked entwining his fingers with Buffy’s in an almost unconscious
gesture.
“I could go for some food,” Connor agreed slowly but
his eyes never left their joined hands. “So you’re like married or
something, now?”
“Something like that,” his father said and brought his
wife’s hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it in a romantic gesture. He
eyed his son for a moment; Connor looked tired, there were heavy circles under
his eyes and he swayed with exhaustion. Probably wouldn’t stay awake long
enough to eat anything, Angelus thought before finishing his brief explanation.
“We’re Joined, Connor, Bound Mates; it’s kind of like a wedding ceremony,
but more, ah, binding.”
“It’s forever, in the literal sense. Nothing can
separate us, not even death,” Buffy added.
“Right.” That
was a little odd, but Connor didn’t say anything. He had been brought up to
believe that people married because they were in love. But if they were soulless
creatures, then how could demons love?
“The kitchen is this way,” Angelus said, pointing to
the doorway down the hall where a stove was visible, “There’s food and
drink; if you want something more, something we don’t have, just let us know
and we’ll get it for you. We’ll show you to your room, now, let you rest.
When you’re ready, you’ll know where to find us.” Angelus started climbing
the stairs, still holding Buffy’s hand. Connor stared after them for a moment
before following.
He did not notice things like paintings and tapestries, but
he spotted several floor to ceiling windows opened wide to allow the night air
to blow through. As he followed the couple up the wide double staircase, he
noted the height should he have to fall or jump, but failed to see the ornate
chandelier that lighted his way or the antiques that were placed along the
route.
The room was fairly large, and Connor took a moment to look
around.
Angelus had had several minions clean it out a week ago,
air it out and furnish it with a bed, dresser, and mirror. Connor’s room held
the only mirror in the house but Angelus doubted his son would use it.
“Feel free to do whatever you want with the room, it’s
yours,” Buffy said, standing in the doorway as Connor looked around the
spacious suite. She didn’t want him to feel threatened, so she didn’t enter.
And wouldn’t until he invited her to do so. This was all about earning his
trust and she intended to do so in as short a time as possible.
The room – all three rooms, including a bathroom – was
easily bigger than that warehouse loft he had stayed in his first year in LA,
and he had thought that was spacious. The bed was large and made, a half dozen
pillows covering the top. The second room held a closet with several shirts,
pants, and shoes that he could see and an amour that was open and empty. A long
couch took up most of the center along with several pieces of furniture he
didn’t recognize.
Connor had never needed a lot of clothes, there weren’t
exactly a lot of clothing factories in Quar-toth and in LA one needed money to
purchase things. He had stolen several items, and Angel had tried to get him
shopping for more once but he had been resistant to the idea. Connor wasn’t
sure if Angel had been relieved or not, his father didn’t strike him as the
type to spend hours pouring over shirts.
An entertainment center was set directly across from the
bed; TV, DVD player, a stereo. There were no movies or musical selections, but
somehow Connor couldn’t see himself watching television or listening to the
radio; however stranger things have happened.
“This is fine,” he acknowledged eventually. Turning
back to the door where the couple still stood, Connor noted they didn’t enter.
Manners, too, now who would have thought that? He got that it was a trust issue,
but still couldn’t fault them.
“Good. Buffy and I have some work to do, feel free to
eat, rest, explore, anything you want,” Angelus nodded. “We’ll talk
later.”
Connor watched as they left, still holding hands, murmuring
softly to each other. Even with his advanced hearing he couldn’t make out what
they said. Hunger momentarily forgotten, he shut the door and flopped down on
the bed, staring at the ceiling.
He needed to shower and could only guess that the bathroom
was as large and spacious as the bedroom. He hadn’t seen anyone else in the
house, but could feel them all the same. In fact his demon alarm was going wild.
Maybe a hot shower – gods, when was the last time he had that? – and some
food.
And sleep. Could he sleep here with so many of the enemy in
the same house?
Yes, the answer was yes. He knew he could defend himself if
need be and doubted that either Buffy or Angel…Angelus would allow any harm to
come to him after all this; the room, the greeting, the allowing him to come to
them. Safe? Not really, but Connor knew he wasn’t exactly in danger.
As his thoughts whirled around in his head he showered,
taking longer than he ever thought possible when he discovered there were four
showerheads in the stall. A little embarrassed at such an indulgence, and that
he had enjoyed it so much, he quickly exited the bathroom and curled, naked,
under the soft and warm blankets.
He was asleep in a minute.
~~~~~~~~~~
The moment they left Connor, Angelus ordered everyone assembled.
Frankly he didn’t care that the sun was up and many of the minions were sleeping. Nor did he care that the rest of his family had responsibilities of their own. He wanted to make sure everyone knew not to bother his son.
His son. It was odd, but he wanted to smile every time he
thought that. Apparently Angel wasn’t the only one with a sense of paternal
pride; it transferred to the demon, too.
Twenty minutes later everyone was gathered in the ballroom,
without preamble he began. “My son, Connor, has just arrived. He has free
reign over the house and gardens and is to be treated with the same respect as
you show Buffy and I. Any harm to come to him and you will answer directly to
me. Any questions?”
No one dared speak and were soon dismissed. The only ones
to stay were, of course, their immediate family.
Drusilla was the first to comment. “Our family is finally
complete, the son has returned and the beginning is now.”
Buffy looked at her mate’s childe and wondered if she
spoke in cryptic sentences on purpose just to annoy everyone. Still, she
couldn’t have agreed more. Connor was the last of their family and now there
was nothing stopping them.
Giles said nothing, merely studying his adopted daughter and sire. Personally he had no thoughts or feelings about he boy, but he knew that Buffy, as a human, had always wanted a child with Angel. It had been impossible, of course, and she knew and accepted that for the most part, but that hadn’t stopped the longing.
Now, it seemed that she had everything she had ever wanted.
And while Giles wasn’t about to unconditionally accept Connor into their
family immediately, he was willing, for Buffy’s sake, to give him a chance.
Plus he was eager to see what the so-called Destroyer was capable of.
Meeting Buffy’s eyes, he smiled at her, nodding once to signal his acceptance. She smiled back and returned to listening to Spike and Paul express their concerns.
It was understandable, Angelus thought, that Paul would be
a bit apprehensive about allowing a human into their midst; one who was not only
strong and capable of killing all of them but held so much anger inside his
young body. Connor had never really been discrete when it came to expressing not
only his hatred of all demons in general, but his father in particular.
And Paul had seen Connor in action when the boy was
wrecking havoc in LA, undeterred, undisciplined. Paul had legitimate reasons for
being concerned. Spike, though, should know better than to question anything he,
Angelus, decreed.
Maybe he had been too lenient on his grandchilde.
“Okay, Angelus,” Paul said finally, “I’ll trust you
to keep your son in line and I’ll accept him as one of us. But I do feel that
an eye must be kept on him. He isn’t exactly known for tolerating the demon
community.”
“I appreciate your concerns, Paul, and agree.” Angelus
nodded adding silently, though it made Buffy smile, that his son wasn’t
exactly known for tolerating anything he didn’t agree with.
Spike added one last comment about not trusting the boy,
but was silenced when Buffy turned to him and said, “One might make the same
argument about you, Spike. You’re not exactly the most level headed creature
among us…”
She trailed off, but Spike knew what she was speaking of;
his help against both Angelus and Drusilla when they tried to open Acathla, his
switching of allegiances when the Initiative placed the chip in his head for
food and protection, falling for Buffy and helping her fight the good fight –
though Angelus was at least pleased one of his family was watching out for his
mate, he had serious issues with the fact that Spike had thought himself in love
with her. Not to mention generally vacillating between sides.
Smirking at him, Buffy watched as everyone eventually filed
out to complete their own jobs. She and Willow were supposed to go over the
correspondence today and had a meeting with several powerful mages in a few
hours; later this afternoon they were all strategizing their next big move. But
for now she wanted time with her lover.
Her lover, though, had other plans.
“I’m going to finish Riley today, love, want to
watch?”
She was somewhat surprised at his words. Not that he wanted
her there, but that Angelus, renowned for keeping his victims alive for days or
weeks before allowing them to die, was going to finish off one he truly hated in
a only a couple of days.
“Why are you finishing with him so soon?”
Shrugging, having anticipated this question, Angelus smiled
and led her out of the room, towards the basement. “Oh, I’m sure he’d be
lots of fun for several more tortuously enjoyable weeks, but I want to step up
our plans. It’s time to stop looking towards the past and focus completely on
the future. Besides, I want to show you the world. It’s not exactly the
vacation you wanted, but it could be close.”
Purring her approval, Buffy snaked an arm around him,
pulling him close for a kiss before asking, “What did you have in mind,
baby?”
“We have to show all those not allied with us that
we’re in charge; it is, quite simply, survival of the fittest. What better way
to do so than to lead the fight ourselves? Giles will be in England for some
time, I imagine and, depending on how we play this, I might just have him stay
there, controlling that part of the world until we arrive. Willow and Paul are
guarding the Hellmouth in his absence and I know Paul has no real ambitions for
more power, but Spike and Drusilla...” He trailed off, not entirely sure what
to do with his childer.
“Take them with us or leave them to defend our backs?”
Buffy guessed as they paused outside the door that lead to the wine cellar. The
stairs were dimly lit casting her face in shadow, but Angelus could see just
fine and traced her delicate jaw with a long finger.
“Something like that. I trust them to do so, so far as
trusting them goes, and I know that they want this as much as we do. They’d
never be able to pull something like this off on their own, they haven’t the
strength or the patience for it, but as for backstabbing…that I’m not
entirely sure of.”
He settled back against the far wall, pulling her closer
and continued, “But I think it’d be better to leave them here with at least
some measure of power. Maybe have Willow do a little spying just for updates,
though I’m not entirely sure about that. I don’t want to undermine our
family, but I need to know how far I can trust everyone.”
Nodding in understanding, Buffy added, “Willow has Paul
and, for the moment, seems content enough. I think she, too, is biding her time.
Not for a take over of some sort, but to see what she’s going to get out of
all of this. See how far she can test us before we snap back.”
”Hmm, yes, I agree.” Angelus paused a moment, then, “I suppose we’ll
just have to wait and see. Ultimately it’ll be the two of us who rule the
world, there’s no mistaking that. But it’s a big world and we’ll need
people we can entrust in all corners of it. I just want to double check that
this family isn’t going to be like so many before and implode for the sake of
power.”
Leaning back in the circle of his arms, Buffy looked for
long moments at her mate. This was it then. Their last respite before the big
push. They had but days before Giles and Saffir left for England, putting one
more phase into action and giving him his own corner to control. Connor was with
them and Buffy was confident that it was only a matter of time before he gave
himself to them wholeheartedly.
Still saying nothing, she brought her lips to his, tracing
their fullness with her tongue before plunging into the cool cavern. Pulling
back, smiling at his growl as she did so, Buffy whispered, “We have them,
they’ve given their Blood Oath to us and have vowed before everyone that they
will follow us for all time. As far as that’s concerned I think we’re
fine.”
Idly playing with his ring, she continued, “Openly
they’d never do anything to defy us; no one has the kind of power and respect
we command. Privately, though, you may be right. But at the moment we need them
all and I’m not willing to let future maybe’s shake the foundation we’ve
built here. Giles, I know, will follow me anywhere; he craves his own power,
true, but ultimately he will bow to my wishes simply because he still feels
I’m the daughter he never had.”
The soft smile she had for her former watcher sent a small
bolt of jealously through Angelus though he knew her childe wasn’t competition
of any sort. Smoothing away the harsh frown with gentle fingertips, Buffy went
on, “Willow will follow because that’s her personality. She’s always
followed the strongest, and while she is one of the strongest now it’s
engrained to follow me. And she knows that, despite the power she does wield,
magickally and physically, she still isn’t a match for us.
“As for Drusilla,” Buffy laughed. “She’s so happy
to play with Dawn, have her Spike back, and belong again; I don’t feel we need
worry about her, do you?”
“No, you’re right; Drusilla always wanted a family,
this family,” he clarified. “She couldn’t stop talking about it in
Sunnydale, last time, and now…well, she did declare her fealty to you and that
can never be revoked; now that I look back on it, I wonder if she didn’t do
that solely for this reason. So we’d know that she has no designs on usurping
our control.”
Fingering the chain that housed the emerald he had given her and brushing her bare skin in all too short strokes, Angelus nodded. “They’re our two biggest concerns, is what you’re saying, and we needn’t worry about them. I agree. Good, then, we can focus on Connor. And,” he added, standing fully upright and leading her to his intended victim with a smile, “Riley.”
Riley, for his part, was still strapped to the table.
He was conscious, but wished fervently that that were not
the case. Never, not in his entire life, had he experienced such agony. He was
completely focused on his pain, his physical pain that was; Riley knew only
that. He didn’t remember anything outside of that pain; not the wife he lost,
not the mission and people he failed, not the fact that his ex-lover was
currently the reason if not the direct cause of all this pain.
So when Angelus and Buffy wandered back into the room, he
never noticed.
“Looks rather pathetic,” Buffy commented, slowly making
her way around the table examining him. Pressing here and there on a mass of
caved in flesh, she smirked when Riley whimpered. “Nice work, love. But he’s
alive and conscious; still want to end his misery?”
Coming up behind her, Angelus wrapped his arms about her
waist and they watched as Riley turned his head towards them, tried to focus his
pain glazed vision on them. “He tried to tell me,” Angelus said once
Riley’s eyes had cleared somewhat and he was as cognizant as he was bound to
be, “That you were going to leave me for Spike or some other vampire.”
The laugh was sudden and bright, as if that were the
funniest thing Buffy had ever in her life heard. “Leave you? When all I’ve
ever wanted was you?” She leaned closer to Riley, making sure his attention
was on her completely. “You stupid, foolish, boy. You never knew anything
about me; leave Angelus…?” She laughed again, “Relationships, by their
very nature, change, but there are some things that remain constant in this
world.”
She stepped closer to the broken body of a man she once
dated but never truly loved and whispered into his undamaged ear. “We are that
constant.”
Angelus’ smirk was triumphant – not that he had been
worried, but the boy’s words were irksome – the glitter in his eye sharp and
callous. “Any last requests, Finn, before I put you out of all our misery?
Confession; oh, wait, broke your jaw, can’t talk. Hmm, that’s out. Sex,
cigarette, one last peak at the daylight?”
Buffy stayed Angelus’ hand, telling him with her eyes,
body, and their Joining link, what she wanted. She wanted Riley to witness what
she was like when she actually enjoyed her partner, when she could be as free
and uninhibited as she always wanted to be with him but couldn’t because only
Angelus (and Angel) had ever sated all her needs.
Hopping onto the table by Riley’s broken hip, Buffy
spread her legs, hiking the long silk skirt up to her waist in blatant
invitation. Angelus was on her in a second, his hands roaming her smooth skin,
his fingers finding her core already ready for him. He brought her crashing over
the first peak in moments but didn’t wait for her to come down before his
talented fingers were inside her, raising her again.
The second peak crashed over her and Angelus barely waited
for her to calm before thrusting his rock hard cock into her welcoming haven.
Shifting into his vampiric face, Angelus licked the raised tissue on her neck
before sinking his fangs into the soft flesh.
His name echoed about the cellar and the few remaining
prisoners watched in rapt fascination as Buffy shouted her third orgasm.
Magnificently evil, stunningly beautiful, they couldn’t tear their eyes away
from the couple.
When Angelus pulled out of her, kissing her lips once
before straightening her skirt, Buffy turned to Riley. “You never stood a
chance. A barely tolerated convenience that couldn’t handle the fact that his
girlfriend was stronger, smarter, faster, than he was. And you could never
understand why I never called out your name, could you, Riley? It was because I
was biting my lip to prevent Angel’s name from escaping. Even then, Riley, it
was never you.”
Riley said nothing, damning them to a thousand hells with
his eyes, wishing that he could spew the venom coated words he held within him.
But he could do nothing. Nothing but lay there, impotent, broken, beaten. And,
as Buffy watched with a sadistic glee in her eye and Angelus snapped his neck,
refusing to even touch the blood of the boy who dared touch his mate, he lay
there, dead.
“Hmm,” Angelus frowned as the light went out of
Riley’s eyes and Buffy’s small hand wandered over his chest, “Not what one
would call a worthy adversary. Why ever did you fuck him, love? He can’t have
been that good.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy was just finishing the final touches on the alliance she planned on
presenting the mages in a couple of hours when Connor found her.
“What are you doing?” He asked, walking cautiously into
the room, staying to the shadows.
“Willow and I are meeting with some very powerful mages
in a few hours; this is the alliance I plan on presenting them.”
“Why ally with them, can’t you just take them over and
be done with it?”
Laughing, Buffy agreed, “Of course. But we’d prefer
them to be on our side. It’s better to have allies than to have then entire
world against you. Alliances are useful things; they allow you to do so much
more than you’d normally be capable of. Not always pleasant, but mostly
necessary.”
“But you and…dad,” Connor stumbled over his
father’s title but continued anyway, “Are stronger than them, right?”
Tilting her head to the side, both to consider Connor’s
question and in acknowledgement of the dad part, Buffy nodded. “To a point,
yes. We have a great many followers who will do whatever we say, if that’s
what you mean. And we control a lot of territory, but human and demon. But if
you just take over, Connor, with no reward of those who serve you, then
they’re bound to rebel sooner or later. No one will ever hold the type of
power we possess, or intend on possessing once our plan is implemented, but
those who follow us will be allowed a certain amount of autonomy.”
“You mean you won’t kill them.” He stated and moved a
little closer to Buffy’s desk.
She smiled at
him, “Yes. It’s all part of the plan, Connor, one in which,” she
continued, hoping that she wasn’t pushing too soon, “I hope you’ll play a
role.”
Connor said nothing, but looked at his father’s wife. No,
mate, he had said, Bound Mates. What was that, exactly? Angelus had said it was
something like a marriage, but for that, don’t you have to have a soul? Be in
love?
“You and my…father,” and again he paused before
calling Angelus that, “Are married, then?”
“Something like that, yes. It’s the vampiric
equivalent; it essentially binds us together in every way imaginable.”
“So if you’re married,” he continued, still having
trouble with the concept, “Then are you in love with each other?”
Buffy paused, wondering for a brief moment if Angelus would
want it known, even to his son, that yes, he did indeed love her. Not that it
wasn’t obvious; vampires didn’t Join unless that were the case, but…
“Yes,” Buffy said going for the honesty route, “Very much so.”
“But you don’t have souls.” It was more statement
than question.
“No,” Buffy laughed, “No we don’t. But we loved
each other even when we did, as I’m sure you’ve heard.”
“But if you don’t have souls,” Connor asked, choosing
to ignore the fact that yes, he had heard all about Angel and Buffy’s romance
“How can you love?”
Switching tactics, Buffy asked her mate’s son, “Do you
believe that animals have souls?”
“What?” Connor asked, clearly confused at the change in
topic. “No,” he answered defiantly, “They don’t.”
“And yet there are animals that mate for life: Lions,
swans, wolves, just to name a few. So if they, as you believe, have no souls,
then what keeps them together?”
“Instinct. Basic animal instinct. It’s a biological
imperative and they go with it because they know nothing else.” But he could
see where she was heading with this and wasn’t so sure of his words any more.
Actually, he wasn’t so sure of anything anymore.
“Is it? It may be an imperative, but humans have that
same imperative. To find someone, marry them, settle into a life with them, and
raise their children together. And instinct? I’ll agree with you on that one;
it’s instinct to protect one’s mate, instinct to crave them, their
presence.”
“But they’re still animals…”
“Perhaps, but they do mate for life, Connor, forever. And
that, my dear child, is indeed the whole point.”
Angelus walked in just then, not letting on that he had
been listening at the door for several minutes. He knew Buffy could sense him
but was somewhat surprised Connor hadn’t.
“Love, have you finished the proposal?” He asked this
with a nod and smile in Connor’s direction. The boy returned it, moving one
more step closer to where Buffy still sat behind her desk. Leaning against the
corner, Angelus read the proposal for the mages while Connor studied them.
The endearment had surprised Connor, having never heard his
father – in any incarnation – use one before. There was affection there, he
couldn’t deny that, it was visible for all to see. Maybe there was truth to
what Buffy had said that it was possible for vampires to love. Just as it was
possible for humans who did possess a soul to hate and kill.
“I don't want to become a vampire,” Connor said
somewhat firmly, changing topics again.
“You don't have to if you don't want to,” Buffy agreed, looking up from her desk. It wasn’t that she had forgotten Connor was there, but she didn’t want to stare at him while he was staring at her and Angelus, trying to figure out just how two soulless creatures could love.
“Really?” Skeptical, dubious at that statement. He obviously didn’t believe her. They were all vampires, why would they let him stay human?
“Why would we make you do something you don't want to
do?” His father asked, setting the paper down and giving his full attention to
the boy. “Why would we push choices on you that we've resented in the past?
Make you become something you don't want to because we feel it's for the
best?”
“We all have darkness within us, Connor,” Buffy added placing her hand in Angelus’ much larger one, “Some of us hide from it, burying it so far down that no one can see it and go through existence with only have of a life. Some embrace it, making it their only thought and feeling and goal. Others are caught between the light and the dark, not sure which way to go, people, friends, family, pulling them in too many directions and usually those directions are opposite from what the person truly wants.”
“It's up to you, Connor,” Angelus picked up, brushing
his thumb over the back of Buffy’s hand. “If you want to stay here, you're
more than welcomed. If you want to stay human then that's fine, too. As long as
you don't try and change us, we won't try and…change you.”
Connor nodded, accepting this. And wondered if that would always be the case.
Not that they would force vampirism on him…but that he’d always want to
remain human, would someday wish to become a vampire.
**********
It looked the same.
Not that Saffir had expected any differently, after all how
much could a city change in a few short…decades? London still held the same
smell, the same taste in the air she remembered. Well, the stench of fear was
notably absent, but the last time she had been to the city had been in the midst
of World War I so it was understandable.
Fog clung to the buildings and floated low in the streets,
enveloping everything in a quietness that was deceiving. The sun wasn’t set to
rise for a few more hours yet but the city, as with all cities in this new
century it seemed to Saffir, teemed with life of all kinds – human and demon.
And carried the stench of recent death, too.
Their plain had landed in Heathrow as scheduled around
midnight, the limo was there waiting for them, and their new temporary home –
a townhouse in the center of London that took over an entire block – had been
opened for their arrival.
But Rupert had been restless and wanted to hunt.
Maybe it was being back, Saffir thought now as they stalked
a young couple who couldn’t keep their hands off each other heading home from
a late night of clubbing. Back in the country where he had been, long ago, a
member of the Watcher’s Council, one of the so-called good guys. Though he had
told her that he had dabbled in the black arts for a time, Saffir doubted it was
those memories that haunted him, now.
They were here to destroy the very thing he had once held
so dear; he was entitled to a little restlessness. Actually, it wasn’t that,
the thought of killing every member of the council he could find, so much as he
wanted to get started. Saffir had no idea what Rupert had been like before Buffy
turned him but she and Willow had told her stories, both of Ripper and of the
watcher.
Perversely, knowing what he was like as a human had
actually made her fall harder for him. Saffir wasn’t one to put stock in human
emotions such as that, but eternal life was full of surprises so, for now, she
simply went with what she felt.
They closed in on the oblivious couple and caught them
simultaneously. There was a struggle, of course, but it was brief and not really
worth the scratch on her cheek from the momentarily feisty woman. Licking her
lips, relishing the taste of passion laced fear in the blood, Saffir jumped on
her lover.
There was plenty of time for play now, before the work –
and fun – began.
~~~~~~~~~~
Willow looked around her.
Sunnydale looked much better now than it had when last she
visited. Then again, the last time she had been on the Hellmouth had been to
slaughter her parents, so she really hadn’t had any inclination to go
sightseeing in her old hometown.
Giles had done a lot in the short time he had been here.
The rubble had been cleared, the streets cleaned of anything that could hamper
his movements. The demon population was still at a minimum, but Willow wasn’t
entirely sure that was a bad thing. The more demons in town the greater chance
there was of someone finding a way to open the Hellmouth.
However unlikely that was, there was always the
possibility.
Now the house…the house was a different story. It really
was on the scale of Versailles; long corridors that led to a dozen wings,
sprawling across acres of land, and at least three stories high, the place was
monstrous. It wasn’t finished, not nearly. Despite the fact that there were
construction crews working around the clock, with a dwelling as large as this
one, it was going to take more than a few months.
But there were two main areas that were completed. Giles’
and Saffir’s living quarters, a grand suite that occupied an entire wing; and
the room directly over the Hellmouth. That room was protected by at least a
dozen wards not to mention booby traps and several armed guards.
Impressive was actually too tame a word for so grand an
establishment, but Willow loved it.
She turned to Paul who was giving some last minute
instructions to another childe of his, Ivan, if Willow remembered correctly. He
had joined Paul several short weeks ago, having traveled from Georgia (the
country, not the state) after hearing of Paul’s alliance with Angelus.
Tracking his movements, Willow dismissed him as soon as he was out of her sight. Ivan seemed about as trustworthy as anyone; Paul used him for only special errands but obviously didn’t trust him to the extent he did Saffir. Willow wondered at that but decided to save it for later.
Tonight it was imperative they establish their presence.
Giles had been gone only a day but Willow wanted no one to assume his leaving
meant they had free reign.
A slow smirk spread across her features as she thought of
their night. Paul noted the look and returned it. It had been a while since he
had had to actively show his authority in a town. This was going to be
interesting if nothing else.
~~~~~~~~~~
Giles looked at the building that had once housed the Watcher’s Council.
And laughed.
They had either fled or weren’t as stupid as he had
always assumed. It was possible that both had occurred, but that didn’t change
the fact that the once magnificent building was destroyed, both ritualistically
and by what appeared to be explosives. Not stupid, then, they had taken every
precaution.
But that didn’t stop the fact that there were some things
he knew that not even Quintin did.
Like the fact that their alternate site was directly over
an ancient fey power source line in southern Scotland. And that it put out as
much energy as the Hellmouth. He had no idea why the coven that guarded the
secondary home had never told the Council of its mystical surroundings, or why
the Council hadn’t figured it out, but he knew the witches guarded that secret
as surely as they did their magick.
A quick few days here, then, scooping out the competition
and quelling any who might rise up against him, Giles, and Buffy and Angelus’
ultimate authority, then off to Scotland. And the Watcher’s Council.
~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy looked down at the once beautiful woman still staked, spread eagle, to the
ground.
“Cordy, Cordy, Cordy…you really shouldn’t have come
back to LA.” Her voice was mocking, spiteful in the extreme. “Not that we
wouldn’t have killed you when we got to Russia, but you at least would have
had a few more months before your death. It really is your own fault, you know.
But I suppose that’s understandable.”
Buffy crouched down and whispered to her former classmate,
“You never were the bright one of the group.”
She turned slightly, having felt Angelus walking towards
her and stood, waiting for her lover to join her. They stood there, side by
side, as Cordelia glared up at them. She had healed quite nicely in the few days
since Willow’s magickal fire had burned most of her flesh. There would be
scars, of that there was no doubt, but her skin was no longer flaking off in
large chunks.
“Someone had to stop the madness that is you,” Cordelia
said, venom coating her words.
Laughing, Angelus leaned down. “And you thought that it
would be you? Have you learned nothing in the time you’ve spent fighting the
forces of darkness? One, madness isn’t confined to evil, two, you
could never stop us no matter who you had on your side or what you thought you
could accomplish.”
He straightened, resting a hand on the small of Buffy’s
back making small circles on the bare skin found there. “And three, nothing
can stop us, Cordelia, so you can stop hoping for the cavalry to ride to your
rescue.”
She said nothing but the hate in her eyes remained focused
on the couple before her.
“Now then,” Buffy said, crossing her arms over her
scantly leather covered chest. “Here are your options. One, you can stay here,
staked to the ground to die from lack of food and water, or two,” the smile
widened. “You can leave. Now.”
Buffy smirked at the look of surprise in the other
woman’s eyes. Obviously Cordelia hadn’t been expecting that. By now the seer
should know that predictability was not in their vocabulary and was about as
possible as Cordelia actually winning the fight against Buffy and Angelus.
“You’d let me go.” It wasn’t a question and
Cordelia’s voice was flat, not believing a word that came out of either of
their mouths.
“Of course. What possible use do we have for you here?
You’re boring, Cordy, your screams grate more than amuse and frankly, we have
better things to do than toy with you.”
Angelus smirked at his (Angel’s) one time lover. She
certainly hadn’t been that good, but the soul had been immensely lonely and
needed someone to stave off the isolation he had felt without his true mate.
Plus, he had been spoiled with Buffy and nothing else quite compared.
“You leave, when the sun rises if you wish, and go
wherever you want. You’re free to go, Cordelia, it’s as simple as that.”
It wasn’t, but that was half the fun. It was all part of
the mind games he and Buffy loved so much. To taste freedom only to have it so
cruelly ripped from her…now that was something worth seeing.
“Okay,” Cordelia said slowly, mind frantically trying
to find the catch in this little proposal. “Sunrise it is…”
Nodding once, the couple turned and left her to ponder the
possibilities.
~~~~~~~~~~
Even as a Watcher, Rupert Giles hadn’t really been one to follow the rules.
He had ‘failed’ as Buffy’s watcher long before the
Council’s test and Quintin’s subsequent firing of him. Buffy had friends to
help her, a vampire lover to steady her, a mother to support and watch over the
more mundane things in her life. And him, more a father than a coldhearted
guide.
He hadn’t cared then and the years had only fostered the
hatred he felt towards the august body that had shaped so much of his life.
But that rage was for the very near future. Let the Council
record all he had done and was about to do, all that Angelus – one of the most
vicious vampires ever to walk the planet and the only one still alive – and
Buffy – the only slayer ever turned – had done and still were planning on
doing.
It would be their last recording of such events, but they
should at least get it right. Posterity must know, after all.
Giles was under no illusion that ‘good’ would simply
die once they conquered the world, life didn’t work like that. They weren’t
sending the world to hell, nor yet creating a new hell on this world. It was
simply a…redefining of priorities. Humans would no longer be in charge of
their world or their fate and evil would be the controlling majority.
Still, Giles thought as he led the small army he had
brought with him from Sunnydale– the only ones he had even a modicum of trust
in – through the darkened London streets, that majority was never going to be
overthrown or voted out.
The early summer heat was just beginning to oppress the
citizenry despite the breeze – such as it was – off the Thames. It did serve
to keep most indoors, though, so the vampire population was out in full force,
searching for the foolish. Several demon species who thrived in the heat and
what they were doing in London was anyone’s guess, were present, but at the
moment, of little consequence to Giles and Saffir.
Didn’t matter, in the week they had been here, every
faction had fallen beneath their heel. Some had pledged their oath to Angelus
and Buffy, some had fought and, of course, died, and some had fled to the
continent in the hopes of allying with other Clans or Orders against them.
Saffir paused, causing Giles and the rest of their army to
pause as well. There was something in the air that tingled along her spine.
Whipping her head around, her eyes squinted into the night.
“I think we just found our prey,” she said with a smile
at her lover.
They were hunting the last of a faction from the Order of
Axum. Axum was actually based in Atlanta, the new Master having migrated to the
Americas several hundred years ago but there were, as with all Orders, several
Clans and smaller factions around the world.
Saffir was an excellent tracker, one of the best he, Giles,
had ever encountered. So they followed her down the darkened alleyway to the
next street over. Making a sudden left, Saffir halted in front on a nondescript
door and motioned inside.
“Pathetic,” she whispered directly into Giles’ ear so
as not to alert their prey. “They honestly think that we wouldn’t find them?
I’m thinking trap, of course, but I’m usually suspicious.”
Giles nodded, “There’s always a trap. Stupid as most vampires are, some are
usually smart enough to cover their exit. Okay, then, the only way to really
find out is to spring it. Ready?”
The lovers looked at each other before kicking the door
down, ducking out of the way of any stray arrows, stakes, or, less likely but
still possible, flame throwers, before sprinting inside to survey the room.
Nothing was noticeable at first sweep, but that usually meant nothing. Walking
more cautiously into the room, Giles motioned a few more of his vamps to follow
him, posting guards around the perimeter both inside and out.
There was only one other door in the sparse fifteen by
fifteen room so Giles sent one of his minions to check it out while he,
ostensibly, checked with Saffir.
The minion, Jack, opened the door and rolled inside, coming
to a stand on the other side of the door. Nothing
happened to him so Giles, sword at the ready, followed, making a quick visual
sweep around the smaller secondary room. There was a trapdoor in the floor.
Nodding to Jack, Giles moved his eyes over the room again
and again as the minion opened the trapdoor. A growl emanated from beneath them
and Giles smile was predatory and gleeful. He needed a good fight, he was still
feeling edgy and this last week hadn’t helped matters.
Sword ready, face shifting, Rupert did something very
un-Giles like and more Ripper-ish and jumped through the opening. Saffir,
sighing at his actions but smiling nonetheless shook her head at her lover,
silently promising him he needed to make this up to her, and followed. Why
should he have all the fun?
The trapdoor led to another room that led to the sewers.
There were at least thirty vamps waiting for them. And none of them seemed happy
to see them. With a roar that shook the ancient structures Giles attacked, sword
swinging, fists flying. He had kept in shape since the battles and had worked
out even more when Buffy had turned him.
He had a reputation to protect, after all, and didn’t
wish to let himself go just because his body was never going to age. He felt
Saffir join him, her own roar echoing through the tunnels as she swung her sword
against the quickly diminishing enemy.
The fight didn’t last long, Giles had a deep seated rage
that wasn’t going to be sated until he had found, tortured, mutilated, and
eventually killed Quintin Travers and looted all the secrets of the Watcher’s
Council. And maybe fucked Saffir into the nearest solid surface. Surrounded by
ash from the rogue vampires, Giles looked around him, golden eyes glowing in the
dimness.
Saffir laughed, a full bodied sound that drew her lover in
like a moth to a flame, capturing his attention.
“I haven’t had that much fun in ages, Rupert!” She
told him, still chuckling. “I mean since I joined up with you guys it’s been
more than interesting, but this,” she paused, captured his lips in a fierce
kiss, “This is just beyond that. Though next time you feel the need to jump
into a probable trap with a few dozen vampires waiting to stake your sexy ass,
don’t look for me to save you.”
Her lips captured his again and she moaned in pleasure as
he shoved her violently against the curved damp wall. Gripping her hips and
pulling her closer to him, Giles grinned. “Won’t save me, huh?” His
elongated teeth scraped along her exposed collarbone, tongue licking the line of
blood that welled there.
Undoing the snaps to her pants and letting the loose material pool on the filthy ground, Giles growled his own pleasure as her quick hands undid his pants, pulling his erection free. With a single thrust he entered her, setting a fast pace that pleased them both.
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