“How did she taste?” asked the brunette who’d sidled up next to him flirtatiously.

He leaned in close, whispered in her ear seductively. “Like heaven…”

She giggled at that, and her hand slid into his lap, traveling slowly up the length of his thigh. The Japanese vampiress on his other side scowled at the other’s advances and leaned in to nip at his shoulder.

Grinning, he turned back to her, slipping an arm around her waist. “Care to hear about slayer number two, luv?”

“Oh yes,” she agreed, eyes flashing gold with excitement.

“No.”

The third female voice caught him completely by surprise. He spun around, shock and then recognition on his face.

“This is a private conversation,” the brunette vampiress stood up, trying to look tough despite her hot pink dress.

The intruder just gave her a look of disbelief and then, before the younger demoness even had time to react, plunged one of the wooden chopsticks from the table into the brunette’s chest. The first female hadn’t even fully collapsed into dust before the intruder turned to the Japanese woman curled up against Spike’s side in sudden fear.

“Bye-bye,” she smiled sweetly, waving for the other woman to leave. She fled in an instant.

“Din’t expect to see you again so so—” Spike’s rant was cut short when the newcomer caught him roughly by the scuff of the neck, forced him down onto his knees before her, and pulled up her short skirt just enough for him to slip his head beneath.

“Mine,” she hissed vehemently.

“In front of the whole club?” Spike exclaimed in disbelief.

Unwavering eyes were his response, and he shrugged, setting about his task. No panties – the naughty girl – so his lips and tongue had easy access to her core. He lapped at her pleasure center, humming against her clit, tongue piercing deep into her womb.

She came hard and fast, but then this hadn’t been about lingering pleasure. It was about showing every single vampire and demon in this club that they didn’t stand a chance with him as long as she was there to make her claim. Her fingers trailed lightly in his dark hair, stroking his curls as he rested his head against her stomach and purred.

“Missed you, luv.”

And Drusilla smiled and pulled him up to his feet. “Mommy missed her sweet Spike, too,” she cooed, leaning in to lick her juices from his face and mouth.

He pulled out the chair the Japanese girl had vacated and helped Dru sit down before taking his own seat once more. “Been quite a while,” he commented casually, taking another sip of his beer.

“Mmm…” she agreed. “So much play.”

He chuckled at that. “Seem to have a bit of an objection to me playin’, though,” he teased.

She gave him a dark smile at that. “My turn to play tonight,” she tisked.

“Your turn whenever you want it,” he assured her with a little purr, resting his forehead on her shoulder for one quick second. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of the heady scent of sire. It was the smell of home, of belonging, of peace from his long journeys at last…

“Would my sweet have dinner with me?” Dru suggested, stroking his hair affectionately. Oh, she’d missed him, indeed. The longer she walked this world, the more she realized how truly unique it was to find someone who understood her, accepted her, bouts of madness and all. “I feel like a taste of Greece,” she teased.

He chuckled at that, rose and took her arm in a very gentlemanly gesture. “Milady,” he teased back.

She giggled, throwing her head back and letting her dark hair fall around her. Oh, he was a treasure for the ages. Arm in arm, they walked from the demon club, paying no attention to the curious looks they drew. If they couldn’t comprehend that two Victorian vampires had just had oral sex right in the middle of the club and were now headed off to feast upon the vibrant population of Athens, then Drusilla pitied their limited worlds.

And, just occasionally, she acknowledged that her unlife was a bit surreal. Even without the flames and torches whispering their dark secrets to her.

“Our golden girl’s scent has faded on you,” she commented, strolling through the warm night, her mate’s hand clasped in hers as they began the hunt.

“We split up in Salzburg,” he answered, voice tight.

Not a happy goodbye, then… Drusilla puzzled. “Seeds of regret flower and bear sweet fruit. All around your head…”

He shook his head. A woman only a poet could understand. “Got dragged back to the dear old family estate. Imagine that’s why you’re here, too.”

“Mmm-hmm…” She wasn’t listening to him now, however. She was hearing a pulse, a breath, an unlife. Hundreds of miles away, yet so close she felt like she could smell his sweat against her skin. For a second, she feared the delusions had finally overtaken her, that the line of madness and sanity had blurred beyond her recognition. “Do you feel that?” she whispered, face ashen as she clutched his arm tightly.

“I feel it,” he quickly assured her, pulling her closer and slipping his arm around her waist. “Seems Buffy’s picked herself a new plaything.”

There was an edge to his voice that indicated he was of mixed opinion about this development. “You suspected?” Dru guessed.

“You’re the psychic,” he shrugged.

“Hmm…” Drusilla’s demonic gaze turned down a long, dark alley. Spotted a human foolish enough to take a shortcut. “Don’t they warn their children about the stroke of midnight?” she asked rhetorically.

Spike grinned. “Dinner is served,” he agreed, following her down the dark corridor…

Buffy had slipped out at sunset to get a quick bite to eat. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised to find Parker still seemingly dead when she returned, but it did try her patience. Despite the dozens of inconsequential fledglings she’d turned in the past, she was beginning to worry that she’d done something wrong this time. A childe would be quite different from the other vampires she’d made, not just another hunter to throw out on their own into the night.

Thankfully, a thin thread of some deeper awareness let her know only too well that his demon was still settling and would awaken soon enough.

Fortunately, the underground hub was a meeting place for demons of all sorts. None were foolish enough to take on a vampiress as powerful as she was, so she didn’t have to worry about attacks. It allowed her to relax, sit back, and pick up some of the underground rumors that the recent battle had brought to light.

“I got a v-mail from two of my pod-mates down in Istanbul,” one of the Chaos Demons that made up their little circle of gossip announced. “The Aurelians and the Dareians are at it. Again.”

“Any news on who the big fatality was?” Buffy inquired with a flirtatious little smile. It never hurt to bat her eyelashes and play the pretty little girl when she wanted information.

“I heard it was Heinrich,” one fledgling popped up.

Buffy couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “He’s been dead for over a century,” she informed him.

His demonic ridges furrowed into a frown. “Really?”

“I should know. I was the one that killed him.” She gave him a condescending little pat on the cheek.

“No, it was the Aurelians’ new leader,” a vampiress of about sixty, and with significantly more experience, explained. “He called himself ‘The Dark Lord’.”

There were a few snickers at that.

“I heard a rumor once that he was Red Eric,” Buffy added her two cents.

“Heinrich’s old sibling rival?” the Chaos Demon asked curiously.

She nodded. “With Heinrich’s line away from home, he snatched the Order for himself.”

“Aren’t you from Heinrich’s line?” a Beval Demon asked curiously.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “My family has better things to do that get killed by some other stodgy old Order.”

“They say the Dareians took it just as hard,” the Chaos Demon pointed out. “Lady Beatrice?” He made a slitting motion. Only at the base of his antlers instead of at his throat. Everyone knew what he meant, though.

“At least that should quiet down their war for a while,” the other vampiress commented. “I’ve been avoiding the whole Middle East for decades, just because it’s not worth getting caught in the crossfire.”

“Any word on who’s going to take The Dark Lord’s place?” the Beval asked Buffy.

She shrugged. “I don’t really follow that sort of thing. Apparently, no one’s bothered to tell the Orders that no one cares about their archaic crap anymore.”

A few frowns until they figured it must be some form of Old American slang.

“I heard someone say Drusilla’s one of the oldest vamps available for the job.” Apparently, the Beval was quite a gossip.

Buffy frowned at that. It was certainly the first time she’d heard any such thing. But then Spike had always kept their little family away from the Order’s affairs. As much as he could, anyway…

“I wouldn’t know,” she said simply.

The Beval obviously had more questions, but Parker chose that moment to stir. Already Buffy loved his timing.

“Unless any of you want to be our hunt for the night…” She waved them off with one hand. It was funny how fast they scurried. Just enough power to be feared on the streets, not enough that the Order couldn’t play games with her sire. She hated them for that so very much, but now wasn’t the time.

Another gasp escaped Parker’s lips, and with it his facial bones twisted into brow ridges. Fangs extended, pierced his lower lip and caused him to wince and touch his mouth at the sharp pain. A common mistake recently-turned vampires made.

Feral gold eyes scanned the atrium, the pull of blood more powerful that anything in the world in these first few days.

Well, almost anything.

“C’mon.” Buffy held out one hand to him. “I’ve found us the perfect place to hunt.”

He followed after her, rubbing his brow ridges affectionately against the back of her hand. “Sire…”

She couldn’t help but smile at that. What were the first words Spike had said to her? “Morning, luv,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his brow. Then, she led him through the tunnels, pulling along at first but then running.

A delighted smile curved his lips as they pushed their bodies past any human’s endurance. Dank corridors flew by, giving way to alleyways, and finally to rows of trees. A nice little park at midnight. The perfect place to show a new vampire the ropes.

“I’m hungry,” he complained, nose buried against her throat.

Buffy’s first meal had been her sire, she remembered only too well. But whispers had been travelling through the demon world last night. The slayer had made a kill in the area. That snotty little girl had followed her from Salzburg, no doubt. She probably should have been concerned, but the demon population in Vienna was booming. It was unlikely the slayer would find her anytime soon. Still, it was best not to let herself be weakened in case of attack.

The difficulty turned out to be moot, however. Only a few minutes of winding through the dark lines of trees, and they stumbled across a nervous young woman. A pretty blonde who glanced around furtively, clutched her purse tightly, and obviously knew that this wasn’t the best time to be wandering around by herself.

Buffy’s hand clenched over Parker’s in warning as they walked leisurely down the path toward her. He seemed to sense the meaning behind her gesture, read words not spoken. Her hand came up to smooth the lines of his brow, and his face shifted beneath her fingertips. Dark, innocent, doe-eyes. Oh, he’d make an excellent hunter, indeed.

Their blonde victim looked ever nervous as she watched their approach, but then breathed an audible sigh of relief. After all, two well-dressed young people holding hands weren’t usually a threat, now were they?

Parker gave her that winning smile as they approached, and she smiled back nervously.

“Do you speak French?” she asked in shaky German.

“Oui,” he purred back.

Her cheeks flushed when he gave her that smile again. Buffy just stood back to make sure things didn’t go awry.

“Thank god,” the blonde switched over to French instantly. “I’m lost, and I don’t speak German well. These maps…” She waved one in frustration and sighed.

“Everything looks different at night,” Parker responded in fluent French. There were times when it was good to be Canadian.

She giggled at that, feeling quite comfortable now. “My hotel is…here,” she pointed, drawing closer to him so that he could see the map. 

Buffy was sure the innuendo was unintentional, but she couldn’t help but shake her head at this girl’s innocence. Every so often Spike would take up hunting innocent young virgins. He was a man, after all. Buffy and Drusilla had always preferred different prey. Buffy’s own preference was still the incredibly stupid – which this girl seemed to be – but also the stupid who went out looking for trouble. They’d driven her crazy both as a human and a vampire. There was nothing more satisfying than that moment when their eyes lit up in realization that their carelessness finally had gotten them killed. Made their blood that much sweeter…

Parker seemed to like the innocent blonde as prey, however. He was a natural at luring her in. Buffy figured what he was doing wasn’t much different than his act as a human. The more things change…

“I’ve gotten turned around, too, now,” he laughed, hand brushing hers on the map flirtatiously.

She giggled and tried to figure it out again.

He looked up when her gaze was away, seeking approval from Buffy. She just shook her head and gestured for him to finish it.

The blonde didn’t even know what hit her. His strike was quick, but inevitably messy. Despite his apparent love for the seduction, he was still a newly-born fledgling half blinded by bloodlust, after all.

Buffy stepped into the circle of the street lamp once more as the girl breathed her last breath. She bit the girl’s wrist and took just a sip of her blood, demonstrating to him how to pierce human flesh cleanly. 

He tried to mimic her bite on the other side of the girl’s throat. Cleaner this time, but still too shallow to be perfectly efficient. He’d learn in time, however.

“How was I?” he purred against her hair when he was done.

“A natural born predator,” Buffy assured him, licking the trickle of blood from the corner of his lips.

His body hardened against her in response, and his hand slipped between them to cup her breast. “Buffy…” he breathed in wanton desire.

Her own body heated at her childe’s touch, but in the back of her mind she felt something else. Something strong and dangerous approaching. A warning, a… “Slayer.”

She pulled away from his fervent kisses despite his moan of protest.

“Not here,” she insisted, sniffing the night air. The thin scent of the predator’s predator wafted to her. “Back home.”

He groaned in protest, but followed her nonetheless, not quite sure what at the fuss was about. After all, one human girl couldn’t possibly be a threat to them. The night and all its riches were theirs for the taking. No human could put an end to that, no matter what his sire told him. Although, as she told him of the slayer’s strength and battle prowess, he couldn’t help but wonder what such a girl would taste like beneath him, as he sunk both fangs and cock into her.

But, in the meantime, his sire was more pleasurable than he ever could have dreamed…

Kennedy found the girl’s body on the park path at half past midnight. Three bite marks: two male, one female. The male on the right side of the throat looked like a dog had ripped at the flesh. The left side was neater. She measured. Both the same size. A fledgling, perhaps? Perfecting his bite…

The female marks were much more interesting. Six perfect circular holes in the woman’s left wrist. Two for the fangs, and four for the secondary fang ridges. The secondary ridges were long and sharp to pierce this neatly. Half-moon marks were generally more characteristic of vampire bites. At least, of younger vamps.

Which meant Kennedy had a master on her hands. A female master with a male fledgling in tow. A childe?

In any case, if Kennedy’s information was at all accurate, there was only one master in Vienna that fit the bill. She’d found that rogue vamped-slayer. Her hunt was getting close.

Little did she know how close, since she’d only missed the vampire pair by five minutes…

Drusilla gasped as the vision faded, her mind returning to her body with a startling jolt. Strong arms caught her from behind, holding her gently.

“You all right, pet?” Spike murmured in concern.

“The slayer stalks our slayer…” she replied dreamily, still shaking off the effects of the brief glimpse she’d been granted.

He tensed for a moment, but then relaxed. “Yeah, I know,” he agreed. “We were hunting her down before…”

With a shake of her head, Dru turned in his arms. The blood she’d just consumed filled her with new life, and she wanted nothing more than to celebrate the rest of the night away. “Naughty family, seeking trouble where they know they’ll find it…” she tisked.

“Buffy can take care of herself,” Spike retorted confidently. There was a part of him that still wanted to rush to her rescue, but she was a grown vamp now. “Taught her everything I know. If she can’t kick the slayer…” He trailed off.

“Then she wasn’t meant to be,” Drusilla concluded with a sad smile. And then, abruptly, cheer filled her at rediscovering her long-lost lover once more. “William, William,” she sang into the night, taking him by the hands and pulling him along with her. “Let’s dance the night away…”

And he couldn’t help but laugh at her sudden gaiety. Nothing like a mercurial mood-shift to wash your troubles away. “Anythin’ you want, pet,” he assured her.

“Anything?” She let out a deranged little giggle. “Oh, but I want the world, my love.”

“Then you’ll have it,” he promised as they danced away into the night.