Title: Demons and Angels Part 1
Author: Jamie.
E-Mail: demon_larath@buffymail.com
Copyright: March 17, 2000
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: BtVS is the property of Joss & the mutant enemy (they're coming after me I tell you!!!).
Content: Angelus, second series.
Author's Note:The author wishes to thank loads of people, especially Matt, who inspired me to write this (thanx), my parents for the computer (they don't know it's mine yet... they're under the delusion that it's a family thing), and if any of you little thiefs want to use my characters .... ask me about it first M'kay???
Demons and Angels
Part One
"He who fights with monsters must take care, lest he become a monster himself. And when you stare into the abyss the abyss also stares into you"
Friedrich Nietzche
He had not always been like this, a destructive, inhuman monster, that he was sure. Once he had been a true champion of justice, a paragon, and a man who sought out evil and destroyed it. Now he was nothing but a shell of his former self, a barely conscious mind in a body he could no longer control, slave to what he had once hunted. The demon inside him laughed. He was always amused at his host’s pathetic, weak sentimentality. It was of no concern to him, he had been in control of this body for over four hundred years, and still showed no signs of loosing control. He strode out into the dark. He was going hell raising. Literally.
The car screeched to a halt with a smell of burning rubber, narrowly avoiding the ‘Welcome to Sunnydale’ sign. It was black, sleek, and smooth, a real demon of a car. The driver’s door opened and a man emerged. He was tall, about six foot, wearing a black trenchcoat, black trousers and a black silk shirt. Mirrored sunglasses, a short goatee and a shaven head completed his image. He looked around, his face inquisitive. "Darling," he said in a British accent, "are you sure this is the right place? For a hellmouth it seems uncannily… Nice." This last word was delivered in a tone, which indicated the speaker’s extreme disgust at the area in which he found himself. "That’s all the messenger said," that was spoken by the car’s other occupant, a slim petite woman wearing a flowing red dress, and spoke with an accent that sounded vaguely French. "Maybe you should have listened to him a bit longer before you killed him." "I know babe, I know, it’s just that little prick got on my nerves so much I had to hit him, and besides" he smiled wryly, "I was feeling a bit peckish… bit like now really, can we grab something to eat before we find the master?" With a smile the woman nodded. Locking the car behind them they strode, arm in arm into what looked like being an eventful night.
The Vampires seemed to materialise out of nowhere. Four of them, three men and a woman. Buffy moved into a defensive pose, arms lifted, legs positioned for ease of movement. The vamps formed a ragged line, no tactics their faces full of a cocky arrogance. They had been getting more and more self confident since Angel…. Buffy pushed that thought to the back of her mind; she had more important things to concentrate on than the complicated state of her love life. The vampires grinned their demonic smiles and moved so as to encircle her. Suddenly they all rushed towards her. She met the first one with a flying kick to the head, which sent it crashing to the floor. Landing agilely on the balls of her feet, she pivoted and planted a 1 - 2 combination into the female Vamp’s gut, causing her to double over in pain, before staking her in the chest. The vampire exploded in a shower of dust as the third kicked Buffy in the side, sending her staggering back a couple of steps. However the vamp had over extended and Buffy swept his feet from under him. The final vampire leapt at her before she could capitalise on the situation, and sent her tumbling to the ground. The three remaining vamps, now visibly less cocky advanced in a thinly spread line. A series of quick jabs to the face and chest sent the first of them reeling back as Buffy returned to the offensive. A snap kick to the groin caused the second to double up straight onto Buffy’s waiting stake point, before Buffy ducked a clumsily swung punch that swung past her head in a whizzing arc. Spinning on her heels she slammed her stake into the vamp’s chest. It dissolved into dust with an almost surprised expression on its face. Grimly snarling it’s defiance the remaining vamp disappeared into the night in search of easier prey.
The woman made a choked off sound and slowly slid to the floor. Larath pulled his trenchcoat closer round his body and watched Estelle feed. "Enjoying you’re meal darling?" he asked, leaning back against the alley wall. Estelle looked up from her meal, face locked in a demonic rictus and nodded, "it’s not the nicest I’ve ever had, but then nothing can quite compare to that." Larath grinned, remembering, Estelle returned to her meal. Larath finished reminiscing. "You nearly done dear? It’s just that I still need to eat, and we have to go find that old bugger and see what the fuck it is that he wants."" Estelle dropped the woman’s body o the floor, her vampire features dissolving back to form her normal face, "you shouldn’t speak about him like that," she hissed, "it’s disrespectful." "Don’t see why I shouldn’t" Larath retorted, "just because he’s my father doesn’t mean he can order me about like I’m one of his stupid underlings. In fact…", he broke off in mid sentence as a figure skidded round the corner and nearly crashed into them.
The Vampire skidded round the corner, nearly slamming straight into the couple standing in the alley. He grinned as he saw them. After nearly getting himself dusted by the slayer it looked as if things were looking up again. The man, although tall was quite slender and shouldn’t put up much of a fight, and as for the woman… well apart from the slayer and a few of the vampires he knew women were easy pickings. He grinned demonically at the pair of them, half-hoping that they would run, just to give him the excitement of the chase. It was then that he noticed the dead body at the young woman’s feet. The man stepped forward, "ah! A local at last, I was wondering when you lot were going to show up…"
Angelus leaned back against a wall in a casual slouch, and watched as the denizens of the mansion began to congregate. Tonight he was going hunting, and he was going to enjoy himself. A lot. With any luck the four incompetents he sent out should have encountered the slayer by now, that ought to keep her distracted, at least for a while, more than enough time for him to have a little fun. At least that’s the plan, he thought, if these morons don’t get ready soon it’ll be dawn and we’ll be stuck here spinning our wheels… and speaking of wheels I wonder where sit and spin’s got to. He scanned the room, thinking up a few good insults to taunt Spike with, and was deeply disappointed to note that he wasn’t around. Must be in his room, he thought, too bad. He returned his attention to his fellow vampires. "Alright, listen up! When we get to the surface split into groups of no less than 4. If you see the slayer try to take her alive, I want her for myself. Her friends you can kill as and when you want to. Otherwise it’s targets of opportunity, snatch and grab, no conversions, is that understood?" the vampires nodded, none of them dared challenge his authority. Angel’s eyes gleamed, "now, has anybody heard form the scouting party yet? If the slayer’s about tonight I’d like to know."
"I’m sure you would, but I doubt your scout will be going anywhere fast," came a voice from the shadows. This was followed by a body that flew through the air to hit the floor near Angel’s feet with a dull thud. Although hideously shrivelled and almost desiccated he could easily recognise it as one of the vampires he had sent out earlier that night. A shaven headed, black clad man stepped from the shadows followed by a slim woman in a flowing red dress. "I’m sorry about the mess, but there are sometimes when you just can’t restrain yourself, and I was feeling peckish." Angel stared at the newcomer with open-mouthed astonishment, "who the hell are you?" he finally said. "Oh yes, the introduction bit. My name’s Larath, this is Estelle," he said "and we’re going to be moving in here."
Something clicked in Angelus’ brain. He had heard of this guy, he was nigh on infamous and had a reputation for sadistic behaviour greater than his or Spike’s. The woman however was unknown to him, although she carried herself in a way that seemed strangely familiar... refusing to acknowledge his fear he resorted to insult. "Oh, just a half breed, I for a moment there I thought it was someone serious." The vampires around him dutifully laughed. They were too young to have heard of Larath and his fearsome reputation. Angelus continued, "so which rock have you been hiding under, I thought you’d retired old man." His words seemed to be having some effect; Larath was becoming visibly Angry. "I’ll tell you why I’m here you pouf-haired wanker. I come here on behalf of my father, the demon Sedusmoa, for whatever it was he summoned me here for, and as I was in the neighbourhood I thought you might like to help in some way. Such as telling me why an area containing the famous Angelus is so nauseatingly normal? Well you great big fucking pouf haired wanker?"
Angelus, visibly shocked took a step back. "Nobody talks to me like that and gets away with it. You are gonna die! Kill ‘em!" the other vampires stood, looking uncertain. Angel snatched up a sword. "What are you waiting for? There’s only two of them." Larath grinned wildly, "yeah, come on. There are only two of us, what could we possibly do to all twelve of you?" sensing they were being mocked the vampires advanced, fanning out into a semicircle.
Larath shouted "N’drach!", and as he uttered the final syllable a thunderclap echoed throughout the room and a blade of pure darkness coalesced in Larath’s hand. He grinned wolfishly. Suddenly uncertain the vampires took a step back. With a sudden hiss and a meaty thud a dagger seemed to imbed itself in one of the vampires’ chest. He looked down at it with some surprise and then exploded into dust. Angel looked over to see the woman, Estelle, holding another dagger, a smile of pure pleasure on her now vampiric face. Uh oh, Angel thought. Larath and Estelle charged.
Spike was bored. Really truly totally and utterly bored. Since the organ incident he’d been stuck in the mansion, stuck in this blasted wheelchair, stuck having to watch Angelus move in on his territory. Still, he’d be mobile again soon enough, then he’d show that blasted wanker what was what. He could hear voices as the other vampires moved about, no doubt preparing for Angelus’ big raid. Spike scowled. Angelus had been taunting him about this all week now. He knew that if he went outside his room that wanker would just start ripping the piss out of him again, and he was buggered if he was going to give him that satisfaction. Slowly he wheeled himself over to his bedside table and grabbed the bottle of whiskey sitting on it muttering, "well if I can’t go out I might as well get pissed instead." He picked up the bottle unscrewed the top and poured a generous measure in the glass next to it. He peered at it critically. It was full almost to the top. "That looks about right," he muttered and took a long swig from the bottle. He paused in mid swig. He could hear raised voices. Suddenly there was an almighty thunderclap, which caused Spike to drop the bottle out of sheer astonishment. What the fuck is going on? He thought. Wheeling himself to the door and opening it Spike was greeted with an astonishing sight. There seemed to be an immense ruck going on in the main chamber, spike saw a figure in red that moved with blinding speed and was sending vampires flying. For a minute he thought the slayer had turned up, but then he noticed that this was clearly not her, not unless the slayer recently dyed her hair brown and lost a few inches, and… shit, who ever heard of a vampiric slayer? As he watched she stabbed one vampire straight in the heart before spinning around to plant one stiletto heel into the chest of another. Both vamps exploded in a cloud of dust. Spike winced; she was massacring those guys. He then turned, noticing the other stranger in the room… and felt his blood chill down to cryogenic levels. There, engaged in a sword fight with Angel was someone he hadn’t seen in years, what the fuck was he doing here? And why in the name of all that’s unholy is the great pouf-hair fighting with him? Even as Spike thought this Larath feinted high, swung low at the hilt of Angel’s sword, then just flicked his wrist, neatly disarming his foe. Grabbing Angel’s throat with his left hand Larath slammed him back against the wall. Spike decided he’d best intervene, if anybody’s gonna kill that wanker it’s gonna be me he thought.
Larath felt a surge of pleasure as his foe’s sword pin-wheeled out of his hand. With a feral grin peeling his lips back he shot out his left hand, catching Angel by the throat and lifting him off his feet. Taking a step forward he slammed Angelus back against the wall. He was pleased to see the look of terror that passed through Angelus’ eyes, this was something he was really going to enjoy doing… suddenly a voice cut across his thoughts, "what the bloody hell is going on here?" Larath startled, he recognised that voice, he relaxed his grip. Spinning round, smiling, Angel still in his hand he said "Spike me old mucker how are you doi… what in the name of all that’s unholy happened to you?" A look of total astonishment crossed his face and he dropped Angel, who landed in a heap on the floor. "I mean did a building fall on you or something?". Spike shrugged nonchalantly, "something like that mate. So what brings you to these parts, last time I saw you, you said something about starting up a pet project, then you disappeared. Me and Dru wondered where you’d gone." A wry smile returned to Larath’s features, "ah, yes, let me tell you all about my little side trip."
Marseilles, France 1947.
With a shower of splinters the door exploded as a figure came flying through it, tumbling un-acrobatically, to end up in a heap on the floor. Vampires flowed in through the open door. They stared uncertainly at the prone figure. "Well go ahead, grab her you fools!" intoned a deep voice from the other side of the open doors. Still uncertain the vampires advanced. Suddenly the figure on the floor leapt upwards and planted a kick straight into the groin of one of the advancing vampires, causing him to double up straight into a vicious punch to the jaw which folded him up into a crumpled heap on the floor. Spinning on her heel the woman then staked another vampire that had been circling behind her, before punching another in the face and sweeping another’s legs from under it. Ducking an overextended punch, which sailed into the face of another vampire, breaking its nose, the woman lunged, staking the vampire, before elbowing another in the stomach. Back flipping over the vampire’s heads she drew a dagger from her sleeve and threw it in one smooth movement. It thudded into the head of the first vampire, which had just picked himself up, sending him to the floor in a shower of dust. The other vampires backed off apprehensively. "Incompetents! Useless fools! Must I do everything myself?" raged the voice from the doorway. And then he stepped into the room.
He was tall, that was the first thing the woman noticed. Tall, slender and very, very pale. The skin across his bald head was stretched taught over a skull that was clearly far from human; being possessed of a somewhat elongated jaw and a bony ridge towards the rear of the head. Small horn-like growths broke the skin at either side of his temple, just above his ears. But it was his eyes that drew her attention most, for the retina was white, and the whites were pure black. She could almost feel them raking her body, and in that moment she knew one thing for certain. She was going to die. He smiled, a fact which showed his razor sharp teeth, and advanced.
Larath looked at the woman lying, crumpled at his feet and smiled. Well, he thought, She certainly was game. He recalled their brief fight with a smile. She had charged straight at him in a flurry of kicks and punches, that he had easily been able to block. It had become obvious how completely outclassed she was when his first blow, a mere swipe lifted her off her feet and sent her flying across the room. Despite this she’d still come back for more, forcing him to hit her again and again, until she was nothing but a crumpled heap in front of him. Even now he could see her beginning to stir. What on earth does it take to keep a slayer down? He wondered. Even as he thought this another thought crossed his mind. He smiled. " Pierre, you and Jacques bring her to the crypt. And bring me some manacles, I’ve got something special planned for this slayer".
Consciousness returned slowly and painfully. She groaned and opened her eyes, instantly wishing she hadn’t, for the scene before her eyes was worse than she imagined. She was sitting on a chair, arms manacled behind her back, in what appeared to be a crypt. Surrounding her in a rough semi-circle were a large group of vampires, roughly twenty in total, several looking somewhat worse for wear. Standing in the middle of the circle was a pale figure, garbed entirely in black. If anything, she thought, he’s even more unnerving as a human, than he is as a demon. He smiled as he saw her look at him, a smile that chilled her to the bone. "Ah, I see you’ve rejoined us at last. Now, maybe we can get a little better acquainted." Although his voice was no more than a whisper, it was more intimidating than all the rest of the room put together. "You see," Larath continued, "I’m very impressed with you my little one. You’ve shown skill and spirit and I think that should be rewarded. What do you think boys?" the vampires all around the room grinned demonically and nodded. Larath gestured to the vampire standing next to him "Pierre, give this young lady her reward." Pierre advanced, lips parted in a perverted smile. I’ve had enough of this she thought I’d better get out of here quick! She tried to move her arms but they wouldn’t budge. She tried to stand, but her legs felt like lead. She couldn’t even turn her head! Larath smiled, "I’m sorry but I really can’t allow you to leave, that would be terribly unsporting of us." The other vampires were all laughing now, as Pierre walked up to wards her. She felt his finger running down her nose and across her jawbone. "So beautiful," he said his voice just above a murmur, "so full of life." Suddenly his head snapped forward, mouth open, teeth piercing into her jugular vein in a sudden burst of pain. She could feel him slowly draining the life from her. Abruptly he pulled back, his teeth locked into a bloody smile. "So delicious," he muttered, licking his lips. Slowly and deliberately he drew a dagger from his belt and ran it across the palm of his hand. Two more vampires moved across and pried her jaw open, as Pierre let his own cursed blood seep from the cut, running down his palm to drip into her open mouth. Feeling her mouth slowly fill with blood Estelle tried to resist, until, out of pure reflex she was forced to swallow. The vampires saw this action and moved away from her.
Pierre bandaged his hand and turned to bow before Larath. Larath smiled, "you have done well my servant, truly shall I reward you for this in hell, a place I’m afraid you’ll shortly be visiting." Upon uttering these words his hand shot out clamping around Pierre’s throat and lifting him off the ground. "This is nothing personal, it’s just I don’t want my newest warrior under anything but my personal control," he said coolly. His eyes darkened, becoming completely black pools, and Pierre screamed, as his body slowly became a desiccated husk, which crumbled under Larath’s grip. Dropping what remained of Pierre he walked over to the woman. "And now my dear, we shall insure your loyalty," he said, grabbing the dagger and sliding the blade over his own wrist. Blood spurted forth, a shade darker than human blood, almost black in colour. Gritting his teeth he shoved his wrist against her lips, and she felt a compulsion to drink. The blood slid down her throat, and she felt internally disgusted to admit that it tasted good. While Pierre’s blood had tasted more or less normal Larath’s seemed almost intoxicatingly strong. All too soon it seemed she felt his arm pull away. "Heal," he snarled and the wound slowly sealed up without trace. The last thing she remembered before sliding into unconsciousness was of Larath weakly staggering away from her, a smile of triumph on his face.
She sat bolt upright, consciousness returning in a rush. She was sitting in a bed, and for a moment she thought that it had all been a terrible dream, but then she saw the sheets, fine black silk. Definitely not hers. It was at this point that she became aware of the fact that she was being watched. She turned and a sense of dread washed over her. She was being watched by a pale figure wearing a black robe. "Welcome my dear," said Larath, "welcome to the family." He stood, a wry smile on his face, and began to move towards her. She swung out of the bed, noticing that she could move, noticing too that she was still wearing her dress, a minor blessing considering the reputation Larath and his followers had. Hunting frantically for something, anything to use as a weapon she came up clutching a candlestick. "Keep away from me," she threatened, brandishing her weapon at him. Undaunted Larath strode towards her. Although her brain was screaming at her to hit him, to run, anything, her body refused to listen. The candlestick slipped from her grasp as he moved closer to her. Slowly he took her in his arms and kissed her. A whirlwind of emotions passed through her. She hated it, she loved it. Finally, too soon, it ended. He stepped back, his left hand cupping her jaw, "you are mine now my dear, mine forever." He moved his hand down to her arm and led her out of the room. "Now my dear, I’d better introduce you to the rest of our little family", he said. As he reached the door a thought occurred to him. "Oh by the way," he said to his companion, "what is your name." The woman smiled. "Estelle," she said as they passed through the door.
Spike looked over from Larath to the young woman who was still slowly and methodically hammering a vampire, headfirst against a table, surrounded by a pile of unconscious or dusted vampires. "You know, if I hadn’t seen her in action I’d have trouble believing it. That’s some girl you’ve got there mate. Er, could you get her to stop beating my men up, it’s kind of embarrassing." Larath laughed, "ah, same old Spike. It really has been too long since we last met." He looked over to Estelle and clicked his fingers. Instantly she released the unfortunate vampire and looked over at him inquisitively. "Fun’s over now ‘stelle, come back to daddy." Smiling a smell that was half-feral she moved over to her master’s side. Larath’s arm encircled her side and drew her closer towards him. It was obvious; Spike thought that, while she may have started out as a servant she was definitely more than that now. Larath’s voice cut across his thoughts, "’stelle, I’d like you to meet Spike, otherwise known as William the bloody, spike meet ‘stelle, my personal bodyguard, enforcer and right-hand vampire. I think you two should get on just fine." Spike extended his hand, "pleased to meet you ducks", he said. Silently Estelle reached forward and shook his hand. Larath grinned, then frowned, "oh shit, I completely forgot." He looked at Spike, face grave; "I completely forgot why we were in this town in the first place. The old man’s got something going down and he wants me in on it. Knowing him he wants me there ASAP."
He paused and sniffed the air. "It’ll be dawn soon, and the old git could be anywhere. Could you put ‘stelle up until I get back, I don’t want her going up in flames, and I don’t know how long it’ll take to find the old bugger." "Sure mate" said Spike, "I still owe you from back in London, it’s the least I could do." Larath clapped Spike on the back "cheers man, you’re a real mate." He hen looked over at where Angel was coming round, "but if anything happens to her I’ll kill each and every single one of you. Slowly and very painfully." Spike shuddered as he watched Larath turn and walk out. Angel glared him from the floor. "Well you sure know how to pick ‘em roller boy," he snarled when he was sure that Larath was out of earshot. Spike glared back, "shut up you big twat, you’re forgetting your manners. We have a guest, in case you haven’t noticed and we should be hospitable. Its called manners, in case you didn’t know." He then turned to look at the young woman standing next to him, "come on ducks, lets go find you somewhere to sleep, and after than I’ve got a friend who I think you ought to meet." And with that they both disappeared deeper into the mansion, leaving an irritated Angel fuming impotently in the middle of a pile of unconscious vampires, trying to work out how he was going to preserve his dignity after his total humiliation. One thought was uppermost in his mind. He would get revenge!
