Kennedy remained skeptical. “The master I’ve been tracking has a new childe…”

“Quite,” he reassured her. “The oracles I’ve consulted indicated the fallen slayer would act such in the final confrontation.”

“Final confrontation?” Kennedy repeated skeptically, loading the crossbow and flicking on the safety before she slung it over her back.

“All prophecies indicate that this will be the last battle between William the Bloody’s family and the Watcher’s Council. It seems to me that bodes quite well for you,” he insisted huffily.

“Unless they kill us all,” she countered realistically.

“Some optimism, please.”

She sighed. “Right. Off to hunt again…”

Buffy kept alert, eyes darting nervously about the nightclub. Three days now, she’d sensed the slayer nearby. The girl was after her specifically, it seemed.

Which, in part, was good. It meant she had struck a nerve. That extra edge she’d need to win the greatest of all battles…

Unfortunately, she had a childe in tow. Buffy was beginning to understand why one wouldn’t want to turn a slayer. That action in itself would automatically set the new girl after you, all while you’re trying to defend a newly-risen vampire.

Wincing, Buffy could remember instances from her own childhood when she’d been just as reckless as Parker was now. Her respect for Spike – and his amazing ability to keep her alive – was increasing every day. Especially since the girl Parker was currently dancing with seemed to have caught the eye of an older male – in his seventies, Buffy would guess. Of course, her childe continued to dance merrily without a clue as to the danger that was sneaking up on him from behind…

Buffy caught the vamp by the scruff of his neck, spun him around to face her. “Ah, ah, ah,” she tisked.

He gulped when he realized what he’d gotten into. “I-I didn’t know,” he insisted hastily.

Buffy just smiled sweetly.

“My mistake. Big mistake. I’ll just…go elsewhere, and… Yeah. Bye.”

Buffy let him go, amused as he tripped over his own feet on the way out of the club. Oh yes, unlife just kept getting better…

She caught Parker’s confused look over his dance partner’s shoulder, but she just gave him a reassuring smile. If this was the biggest trouble he got himself into, he’d be the luckiest vamp on the face of the earth. At least he hadn’t decided to challenge a two-hundred-plus vampire – and her great-grandsire, to boot – on his first day. Ah, the naivete of youth…

Parker whispered something in his ‘date’s ear, and the brunette giggled and smiled. Nodded shyly, and let him lead her off into the back.

Buffy let them go – she had no doubt her childe had the girl wrapped around his little finger – and turned to find a meal of her own for the night. The smell of human sweat was almost overwhelming, and it reminded her how very hungry she was. First dance offer, then.

He wasn’t her usual prey. Shy, meek, a bit nerdy. He’d obviously been nervous and insecure when he’d asked her. A part of Buffy really didn’t particularly want to see him dead, but it was best not to leave Parker alone for too long in these early days.

So, she accepted his offer. Led him almost immediately out back. Apologized right before she sank her fangs into him.

He was frightened, but he wasn’t the sort who deserved to be frightened out of his wits. It was a most unsatisfactory kill. But his blood warmed her body, gave her strength. Ah well, his survival instinct obviously hadn’t been that good, anyway. It would have been only a matter of time before a vampiress with a pension for the frail and timid had sunk her teeth into him. Dru, perhaps, if she’d been in town…

“OK, I can officially say that’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen.”

Buffy spun around in surprise, her senses belatedly blaring harsh warnings. She knew what she’d see behind her even before she’d fully turned. “Slayer,” she commented casually. “Hiya. How’s the whole doomed destiny thing going?”

Kennedy’s eyes narrowed, and she held out her stake in anticipation of the fight to come. “Not bad,” she retorted haughtily. “How’s the murderous bloodsucker business?”

Buffy shrugged. “Not so great pickings tonight. But the menu’s starting to look much tastier.” Her gaze raked up and down Kennedy’s body appreciatively.

Kennedy fought the urge to blush. “Like the taste of dust, do you?”

“No, but pretty slayer’s quite sweet from what I’ve heard.” Slowly, Buffy began to circle her foe.

In perfect counterpoint, Kennedy kept opposite her. “Unfortunately, pretty vampire’s not much more fun to dust.” Belatedly, she realized what she’d admitted. Felt properly mortified that she’d let out even that one detail about how she viewed this traitor.

Buffy grinned, took advantage of the opportunity given her, and struck.

Kennedy reeled backward as the vampiress’ foot hit her squarely across the jaw. Only a quick roll at the last minute saved her from being pinned to the ground. Her fist caught Buffy in the center of the back and downed the vampiress long enough for her to recover.

Buffy leapt back up to her feet and saw they were at the same standstill they’d had before. Ah well, small steps. Sooner or later she’d have this slayer’s blood.

Although circumstances seemed to be conspiring against today being that day.

“Are you done with—?” Parker inquired, stepping out into the back alley, lips still red with blood. He paused in surprise when he saw his sire in the middle of a fight. “What’s this?” he asked curiously, hungry gaze taking in Kennedy.

“The slayer,” Buffy informed him curtly. “Get back inside.”

 Rather than back off, Parker moved in closer, however. “You’re taking that pretty girl without me?” he asked with a bit of a pout.

Kennedy’s lip curled in disgust. “A chip off the old block, I see,” she said snidely.

Buffy growled at that. “Inside!” she snapped at Parker angrily.

He moved to protest, but her snarl sent him scurrying back toward the comparative safety of the club.

“I don’t see your old boyfriend anywhere,” Kennedy taunted her. “Don’t tell me William the Bloody gave you the axe.”

“You don’t know anything about it,” Buffy insisted, hands clutched into enraged fists.

“Didn’t live up to daddy’s expectations?”

“Shut up!” Buffy struck out angrily, missed, and was sent tumbling into a pile of crates. Wood splinters shattered all around her. Thankfully, none of them hit anything vital.

A strong kick threw Kennedy back across the alley as the slayer moved in for the kill. Even Buffy took a moment of pride at how far her opponent flew. A century of power certainly had its advantages…

Kennedy was back on her feet in an instant, caught Buffy’s ankle with a low sweep on her foot. Fingers and nails clutching at throats, the two women grappled across the cold cement, struggling for the upper hand.

Buffy snarled, fangs bared, catching the flesh of the slayer’s arm. Kennedy pulled back, winced, and then responded with a powerful punch to the face. Shaken, Buffy fell back, clutching the sides of her head. Her vision came back in focus just in time to see the stake raised…

At the last moment, Kennedy let out a screech of surprise. She staggered back into the wall and elbowed the vampire on her back in the ribs as hard as she could.

Parker collapsed with a gasp and, seeing she was outnumbered and wounded, Kennedy fled while she still could. “Next time, slayer,” she shouted vengefully. She would be back, and this would finally end, no matter what happened…

Groaning at yet another failure, Buffy rose to her feet and wiped the blood from her chin. Fuck, that girl had been strong. Buffy only vaguely remembered her slayer days now, but the first thing that had struck her when she was turned was how comparatively weak vampires were. Of course, that had gotten better with age. But she was still willing to bet the slayer had more power behind her punches. Fortunately, Buffy had speed and experience on her side, or this battle would have been over before it started.

“You all right?” Buffy turned to Parker who seemed only to have taken the one hit.

He winced and staggered against her, hands on his ribs. “She’s strong…”

“Yup,” she sighed. “Looks like we’re gonna have to dispose of her if we want any peace too.”

He grinned. “Just let me at her,” he pleaded, batting long, dark lashes. “I can show her…” He breathed huskily. “…A good time…”

Buffy shook her head. “This girl’s out of your league,” she informed him. “Leave her to me.”

Parker opened his mouth to protest. Dozens of women had fallen into his trap both before and after death, and adding the slayer, of all creatures, to his trophy case was too tempting to pass up. The tone of his sire’s voice stopped him from insisting, however.

Buffy gave him an approving smile and a quick kiss on the lips when he complied with her wishes. “Let’s go home,” she decided. “I’ve had enough for the night.”

Parker let it go and followed her home, one lingering thought still in mind. “She called you ‘slayer’…”

“I want it all, my William.”

Half-dozing in the aftermath of post-orgasmic bliss, it took Spike a moment or two to realize she had spoken. “Mmm?” he murmured, rolling over with great effort so that his head was pillowed between her breasts.

“It calls to me. Sweet whispers in the night. The scent of lilac, overwhelming, swirling around me in a rich mantle…” Drusilla sighed. “I want it.”

“Anythin’ my dark princess wants,” Spike promised fervently, although – frankly – he had no clue what she was going on about.

“Little boy’s not paying attention to his lesson,” Dru chided in a singsong voice.

With a sigh, he looked up at her. “What d’you want then, pet?” he asked. “And if ‘s another romp, you’ll hafta give me a few more minutes…”

“Insatiable,” she teased, stroking his dark hair. It was almost the same color as hers now, and she savored the feel of thick curls sliding through her fingers.

“Just the way you like me,” he purred in agreement.

Drusilla continued to play lightly with his hair for a while, felt him drift off into slumber once more as her touch soothed him. “I want the throne,” she finally announced, words and mind clear as day.

That woke him, caused him to frown. “Pet…” he began in warning.

“They would give it to me if I weren’t mad, I think,” she explained.

Propping himself up with one elbow, he resigned himself to having this conversation. “Yeah, so long as you fought your way through the endless petty bickerin’ and power plays.”

“So cynical.” She shook her head. “Our grandfather left us a legacy, my dearest…”

“Buffy offed grandpop, in case you’ve forgotten,” he retorted.

“Angelus would’ve fought for it.”

“Angelus had been dust for over a hundred bloody years!”

“Mmm…bloody, indeed…” She sat up, pulling him into her arms, rocking him slowly. Her pretty boy never had gotten it. “I want the power. I want them all to kneel before me…” She sighed. “My family…”

“You’ve got a family, Dru,” Spike tensed. “And we’re as far away from the soddin’ Order as we can get.”

“Why do you despise them so?” she asked curiously, nails tracing thin red lines down the smooth naked muscles of his back.

“Why do you adore them so?” he shot right back, even as he hissed in pain/pleasure.

“Contrary, stubborn boy,” she tisked.

He gulped. “You said you loved that about me once,” he ventured.

“Oh, my sweet poet.” She kissed his eyelids, reassuring him in his brief moment of insecurity. The mortals they’d once been never died. They were just buried deep, hidden away through shame and fear and loss. But every so often they’d rear their heads, and then they only had each other to turn to for comfort. “I do love you… So wild… Untamed, raw…” She made a clawing motion with that last word, her lips curled into a feral grin.

He returned it eagerly, towering over her, pushing her back slowly onto the mattress beneath him. “Black mistress…”

“My cruel, cruel knight,” she purred in satisfaction. “Fight for me, my love. Bare your steel…”

“Naughty, naughty,” he chided her. One knee between her thighs forced her legs apart. He caught her ass cheeks roughly, pulled her up and around him. “Heaven and hell,” he gasped before piercing her womb.

She moaned and thrust against him, feeling her insides coil with knots of pleasure, just waiting to erupt. He was so deep and pure, her Spike. The perfect lover in so many ways…

Demonic visages came forth, fangs and claws tore at flesh, sunk in, piercing deep. One mind, one body, one demon.

They came together, still growling and tussling, limbs tangled into indecipherable knots. Gasping for breath and still trying to move closer together.

Drusilla held him, rocked him, whispered sweet nothings in his ear. Oh, she was his queen. She’d known that all along, known that he was her prince, as well. But the Golden Order called to her, offering her its riches.

She whispered her secret to William, watched him smile.

“Whatever my princess wants,” he promised fervently.

And, oh, she wanted, indeed…

With a final gasp of pleasure, they came, bodies moaning and shuddering. They collapsed together, twisted beneath the sheets, paused for a moment before Buffy finally rolled off of him.

“My sire,” Parker purred against her throat, sleepy with blood and sex.

Buffy’s fingers played with the hair at the back of his neck. All the little girls he played with – fucked and then killed – but she was the only one he’d ever keep coming back to. She could feel the chord that bound them when they were close like this, knew that no matter how far they strayed, it would always pull them back together one day.

And right now she was planning on straying into very dangerous territory…

“I’m going to kill her tomorrow night,” Buffy commented lazily, her relaxed tone belying the sharp mind that played behind sleepy eyes.

“The slayer kills a slayer,” Parker whispered in approval.

Buffy had been hesitant to share that little secret of her past with him. It was a life she’d fought so long to escape. So few remembered her dark secret now, and their lips were all sealed. But he had to learn sooner or later, just like Spike had ultimately had to make his confession to her. She wondered if it was something all sires dreaded…

His response had been rather delightfully…vigorous. She knew his brief encounter with the slayer had enamoured him of the breed. Really, it must seem like the ultimate challenge to him. An apex female predator for him to seduce, use, and destroy. All the more reason for her to get this girl off their backs as soon as possible.

“At least let me watch,” he pleaded. “Let me taste…”

Buffy remembered when she had made a similar demand of Spike. Just to watch Angel bleed his last drop. The battle that could’ve ended everything. “Too risky,” she apologized.

“But—”

She cut him off with a fingertip to his lips. “Mommy knows best,” she teased lightly.

He grinned. “Mommy knows how to make it hurt so good…” He nuzzled her throat. “I…” He trailed off, frowned.

“Mmm?” she inquired lazily, resting for the battle tomorrow would bring.

He just shook his head and lay down beside her, spooning against her back. “Nothing,” he sighed, sounding confused.

Buffy didn’t process that fact, however, as she drifted off. “If I’m gone in the evening, don’t wait up for me to feed.”

The beginnings of a plan forming in his own mind, he smiled. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

And, together, they drifted off to sleep. Oh yes, tomorrow night would quite possibly be the biggest night of their unlives…

In a rare generous mood, Spike actually paid the pilot his fare and let him go unharmed to pick up another trans-Mediterranean ride. Drusilla’s hand in his and the Suq of Casablanca bustling with festivities in the hot night air, he felt as though he were king of the world.

“So very close now…” Drusilla commented, feeling the same sense of elation. “My hallowed halls soon at my fingertips…” She spun away from him in a little pirouette, dancing in time to the primal beating of drums that pounded the pulse of the night’s celebration.

“We’ll make the Order tremble at our feet, we will,” he assured her, following her through the endless delights the midnight marketplace had to offer. All about them, performers demonstrated amazing tricks, awing the human crowds. Wisely, no one tried to stop the vampire couple for money.

“A new moon rises,” Drusilla danced and sang. “Cold and pure and so very lovely. Do you see it, sweet Spike?”

“Beautiful creature,” he agreed, his gaze fixed on her.

“Tomorrow…” she whispered. “Tomorrow… Tomorrow…” Each cadence grew quieter, more mysterious.

“Tomorrow,” he agreed, “we arrive.”