Warning: Graphic torture.
Part 23
Entering the vampire lair, Wesley swore that he could feel, almost touch, the heightened tension and adrenaline.
"Looks like they're getting ready for a war." Xander observed as he watched minions scurrying around, moving furniture, sharpening stakes, and readying weapons.
"That's exactly what they're doing." Spying Angel standing across the way, then ex-Watcher began walking toward him. "Getting ready for a war."
"I want more buckets of water filled. And move all the furniture against the windows." Angel was snapping out orders.
"Angel." Greeting the vampire, Wesley handed him a sport's bottle. "Here's the holy water you requested."
Taking the water bottle, Angel eyed it questioningly but made no comment as he handed the bottle to a minion. "Take this to Djoser and help him soak the ammunition. But be careful. Don't burn yourselves with it."
"Master." Genuflecting slightly, the minion turned and ran off to carry out his order.
"And Buffy? Will she be coming?" Expectation written on his face as turned to the two men.
"I. . .err. . . ." Wesley always hated to tell people news they didn't want to hear. "She went off with Willow somewhere. We're not sure where. If she gets back in time, we'll tell her. . .what's happening here, but for now, don't count on her." A moment's pause before he continued with a smile. "But I'm here. Reporting for duty. Xander here, will take Dawn to Giles."
"I'd rather you leave too, Wesley." Angel was now scrutinizing a couple of minions carrying buckets of water and slopping the water onto the mansion's floors. "WATCH WHAT YOU'RE DOING! I want that water cleaned up." He barked at them.
"What they gonna do with buckets of water?" Brow furrowed, Xander was puzzled.
"We need to have water accessible, in case they start setting things on fire. . .especially us."
Xander nodded his head. "Of course, fire is one of the things that can kill you, besides a wooden stake, decapitation, and . . . ." Trailing off, he realized that he had just put his foot in his mouth.
"Angel." Wesley protested. "I'm here. I'm ready. Ready to take on Snow and. . . ."
"You'd better serve me by working on a cure for William." Starting for the door, Angel gave Wesley an inquiring look. "Have you or Giles had any time to do any research on. . .William's condition?"
"Actually. . .yes." Wesley and Xander followed Angel out the front door. "We hit a dead end in the Glory department. A problem that, at the moment, we have no solution for. So while we grapple for a resolution with that particular situation, Giles and I did take a look at the information that Djoser got from. . .was it the Toreador Clan?"
"Yes." Angel answered with a sigh as the threesome walked out onto a covered porch. After his Childe was cured, he was considering approaching the Toreadors. See if he could smooth out the situation out between them and the Ventrues; thus, perhaps gaining an audience with the powerful Ventrue Master again. Through the demon grapevine, some Clan members had already heard that Judelin, High Master of the Ventrues, had placed a death warrant out for Djoser. Despite his protective stance toward all Blood-Childer, the Ventrue Master was not about to forgive an act of treason, especially involving one of his own.
"Well, it appears that the information from the Toreadors is accurate. Their data on the first poison correlates with what Giles and I already knew about it. So we can then logically assume that the facts on the second. . . ."
"Wesley. . .just get to the point." Voice filled with impatience.
"We're not working in the dark anymore. We know what the second poison is. We can research if it would react at all with the first. And we can find an antidote."
"You can!" Stopping suddenly, Angel stared at his human colleague. "That's the first good news I've heard."
Walking alongside of Angel, Wesley also stopped, causing Xander, who was busy gawking at all of the vampires to bump into him. Taking a deep breath, the Englishman sighed while rolling his eyes up to the heavens. Making their way across the porch, the three men halted in front of an improvised blockade made out of pieces of furniture. Inside the blockade were Spike, Christian, and Dawn. Standing right outside were Nic, Djoser, and the minion with the holy water.
The six were soaking bullets, loading clips for Djoser's Tech-9, and sharpening stakes. Dawn, the one human in the group was loading the holy water soaked bullets into the clips. She was the only one who could do it without getting her fingers burnt.
"Almost done with that clip, Little Bit?" Spike asked her. "Cos that's the last one. And then I'll give you some stakes to sharpen."
"You know, I don't think that the Slayer wants her kid sister to be playing with knives. In fact, I don't think that the Slayer is going to like that we let her baby sis play with guns and bullets either." Nic was worried. That's all he needed was a pissed off Slayer after him because he had fucked up as a babysitter.
"I've done this before." Dawn lied. She liked helping these vampires. They didn't treat her like some stupid, always-in-the-way kid.
"You did?" Xander didn't remember a time when Dawn had helped carve stakes.
"YES, I DID." Dawn gave Xander a meaningful look. "I'm the sister of the Slayer. Making stakes is one of the first things I learned."
"You need to go now." Angel's voice was quiet, but had such a ring of authority that Dawn could help but immediately stand up. Looking at the tall, dark vampire, she couldn't imagine why her sister had found him so attractive. Stern, humorless, and intimidating. She considered Spike, Nic and even Djoser much more fun.
"Angel. . . . " Wesley couldn't help but steal a look at Nic who was glaring his way, an amused glint in his eyes. "Are you sure you don't want me stay here and help?"
"Damon assures me that even if they outnumber us, our people are so well trained that there should be no problem in defeating Snow's minions. I trust his judgment, so if you want to assist, just find a cure for William. That's what will help me the most."
Nodding his head, Wesley repeated the same words Damon had used earlier when answering to his brother. "It will be done."
**
"Master." One of the Ventrue Master's most trusted envoys had returned. "I'm afraid the news is not good. The Toreadors were attacked by the Council, backed up by some of Snow's followers. And. . . ." The envoy didn't know how to continue.
Staring out the window, Judelin already knew what the bad news was. "And my GrandChilde?"
"Snow and the Council have him." The envoy whispered the last part. The Blood-Childe of the Clan's Heir Apparent. The only Blood-Childe of his generation and a favorite with the High Master.
"Get ready. We are going to mount an offensive assault." Tears welling up in his eyes, Judelin knew that everything he had always worked for was gone. His precious GrandChilde. The well being of his people. The truce with the humans. They were at war once again.
**
Crouched down, Daniel Webster watched the fighting with disgust. They outnumbered the Tremeren vampires almost two to one, but even so, they were getting their asses kicked. "They knew we were coming. They were ready for us." He whispered to himself.
Seeing Snow approach, the vampire hunter straightened up. "We underestimated them. We should have known that one as cunning as Angelus would be. . . ."
"DON'T SAY THAT NAME!" The vampire grabbed the mortal around the throat.
But Webster, angry and fed up with Snow, wasn't afraid. "Why? Cause your fucking ears will bleed again? Like I give a royal shit." Pulling the hands away from around his throat, he spit on the ground. "We need to retreat. Get the hell out of here."
Eyes hidden by sunglasses, Snow smiled. A self-satisfied smile. "We'll leave. But not before we get what we came for."
"Came for? What the hell are you talking ab. . . ?"
"There." Snow pointed to a blockade made out of furniture that stood close to the mansion. "The Childe you're looking for and the one I want."
Peering through the dimness, Webster could see two heads inside the blockade. Pulling out a pair of night vision binoculars, he studied the two figures protected by the make shift fort. One was armed with a crossbow, carefully picking off any opponents within range. The other was armed with a Tech-9 and was expertly firing at groups of enemy minions. The one armed with the gun was his old associate, Christian Shelton.
"They're well protected." Webster observed to the vampire. He could see a couple of vampires fighting, just off to the side of the blockade. He knew that they had been placed there to purposely guard the two Blood-Childer inside.
"I've held a couple of my best fighters back, specifically for. . .them." Snow motioned to a couple of figures who had been hiding in the dark.
"They've just been standing here? While their comrades have been fighting and. . . ?" Stunned, Webster wanted to finish the sentence with the word 'dying', but found the word to be inappropriate.
"Well? Isn't that the Blood-Childe your boss wants?" Long white teeth flashed in the darkness.
Pulling out his 9mm Beretta, Webster began following the two minions, with Snow bringing up the rear. Complaining softly to himself, the Council hunter decided that his first order of business when he got back to LA was to demand a raise.
**
"Damn!" Forgetting himself, Christian had tried to pick up the bullets with his bare hands. He needed to reload the clips, but the bullets burned his fingers like scalding water.
"Careful, mate." Pausing a moment, Spike turned his head to glare at his cousin. "Put those on." Motioning his head toward a pair of gloves.
Reaching for the gloves, Christian looked up just in time to see two, huge vampires running toward them. "SPIKE. New enemy at twelve o'clock." But his cousin didn't move. Just stood paralyzed, looking over to his left. Fortunately Nic who had been stationed right outside the barricade was able to dive into both of Snow's henchmen, bringing them all down into a pile.
After telling his young fledging cousin to put gloves on, Spike took a second to survey the scene. And that's when he saw him. His nightmares becoming a reality. The tall figure with no eyes was coming for him. Straight for him. Fear overwhelmed him momentarily, causing him to become immobile.
"SPIKE! Nic needs help. Shoot one of those bastards." When Christian didn't get a response, he went to grab the crossbow for himself. In the process of trying to wrestle it out of his cousin's hands, when a familiar voice stopped him.
"Christian. Tch. Tch. Helping the enemy. After all we taught you." Spinning around to face Webster, an old friend and co-worker, Christian caught three bullets right in the chest.
His younger cousin being shot roused Spike out of his stupor. He immediately raised the crossbow, but before he could aim a bullet went through his right hand causing him to drop the weapon. Webster was good shot. "And you too. . .fucking vamps!" Raising his gun, he intended to empty it into Spike.
Being held from behind, Nic still managed to deliver a good kick in the face to the vampire who had been trying to rush him from the front and an elbow in the gut to the vampire who held him from the back. Falling to his knees, he felt the vampire's hold on him loosen slightly, and grabbing the enemy around the head, he flipped him over onto his back. "You think I'm just the weak, fuck up of a younger brother. Well, guess again." He muttered this to his opponent, and in a lightening fast move, he pulled a stake out of the waistband of his jeans and plunged it into a heart.
**
Adrenaline up, a stake in each hand, Angel was completely crazed. Giving his demon half free rein, he was letting Snow's followers know that Angelus, Scourge of Europe was still alive and well.
Fighting alongside his brother, Damon was equally violent. Normally, he had a low key disposition, but once riled he became wild. Seizing an enemy vampire by the ears, he ripped them both off. The minion fell to his knees, grabbing where his ears once were. And Angel, fighting in tandem with his brother, delivered a roundhouse kick, decapitating the kneeling vampire. Watching the vampire disintegrate, Damon smiled with pleasure until he felt three sharp pains entering his body. Feeling his Childe's distress, he looked over to the barricade. Seeing the danger, he yelled to Angel. Rushing to help his son with Angel right behind him.
**
Standing up, Nic saw Webster raise his arm. Saw him point the gun at his nephew. His poisoned nephew. Leaping up and over the mound of furniture that was acting as a protective wall, he managed to get his body in front of Spike's just as Webster fired his gun.
Two shots were all Webster was able to get off before he was grabbed from behind by two very strong hands. He never even saw the two vampires coming.
Damon's first instinct was to snap the man's neck and drain the life blood from the mortal he held in his hands. The creature who had dared to hurt his Childe.
"WAIT!" Angelus' voice penetrated the crazed anger that fogged his brain. "The proper death for someone who has assaulted a Blood-Childe is death by torture. DON'T KILL HIM. I want to hear that human scream."
Roaring with anger, Damon threw Webster's body up against the mansion's outside wall. Hitting the wall with such force, the Council hunter was immediately knocked unconscious.
The second of Snow's henchmen was slowly trying to pick himself off the ground when a booted foot landed hard in his solar plexus, and a small sword was held to his throat. "And you, traitor to you kind. You'll scream right alongside your human friend." Opening his eyes, he found himself staring into the face of Djoser.
"Goddamn! Son-of-a-bitch! Haven't been shot in a while, so I forgot how much these fucking bullets hurt!" Rolling off Spike, Nic was pressing his hand tight to his wounds.
"Get the healer here." Damon yelled out as he pulled Christian's body up against his.
"Are you burning?" Angel had taken some of the furniture and had thrown it aside, making an entrance so he could get at Spike. Like his brother, he pulled his Childe up against him, searching for wounds.
"No. Fortunately that hunter hadn't soaked his bullets in holy water." Sitting up, Nic was wishing for a bottle of whiskey. "How we doing anyway?" Getting up on his knees, he peered over the furniture wall. The few Snow's survivors were now trying to flee with the Tremeren vampires in hot pursuit.
"Childe, they hurt, but they can't kill you. Your wounds will heal." Holding Christian tightly against him, Damon was trying to pull the bullets out of his son.
Spike's head in his lap, Angel lifted up an arm, studying the gap in his Childe's right hand.
"Fucker made a perfect hole." Nic commented as he looked at the wound the 9mm bullet had made in his nephew's hand.
Biting his tongue, Angel spat a combination of saliva and blood over the injury. He then licked it, spreading the mixture over the bullet hole like a bandage.
"Sire." Holding Snow's henchman, Djoser had walked up to the group. "What do you want me to do with this one?"
Looking up, Angel couldn't help the satisfied look that flitted across his face. A duet of screams would soon be sounding in his ears. "Have the minions chain him and the human. . . ." He pointed to an unconscious Webster. "Up. . .And Djoser, have them feed the vampire some animal blood. A lot of blood."
Snow's henchman knew what feeding him blood meant. It was prelude to a specific form of torture. Terror ran through him as he began to struggle in Djoser's gasp. "Noo! Please, Master." Looking at Angel, the vampire began pleading. "I'll tell you anything. I'll pledge my allegiance to you, but please don't. . . !"
Angel's demon half enjoyed the fear. "That's right. You'll be telling us all about your master and his plans. . .between your screams. . .and your begging. . .your begging for death, because after I'm done with you, you're going to be welcoming death and hell with open arms. TAKE HIM." He ordered the minions as he stood up, Spike in his arms. "It's been a long time since I've had the pleasure of a good flaying."
**
When Webster regained consciousness, he found himself naked and hanging upside down from the ceiling. "What the hell?" He muttered to himself.
"Finally! Now the party can start." A tall, dark haired demon, arms folded across his chest, was standing in front of him. Hanging alongside of him was one of Snow's henchman. Also naked, the big, burly vampire was sobbing, his mouth stained with blood.
"Gag him." Angel ordered a minion as he gave the captive vampire a look of contempt. "And he calls himself a demon. . . ." Turning to Webster, he addressed him. "And you, human. Did you know that the best way to flay a person is to hang them upside down? The blood pools in the head and chest, keeping the person conscious longer. Because the longer you stay conscious, the longer you'll suffer, and the more I will enjoy it."
Gathering the salvia in his mouth, Webster's intent was to spit on the vampire, but Angel saw the throat and neck muscles moving. Reaching down, he grabbed the man by the face. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. You spit on me and your pain will last today AND tomorrow. Behave, and I may have mercy on you and kill you by sun up." Holding out his hand so a minion could hand him a knife. "Childe, come." He turned to look at Christian. "Taste your enemy. Take his blood, his essence, before I send him to hell."
But Christian was still unsure. Webster had been a friend and comrade. But on the other hand, he could still feel the pain and burning from the bullets that his so called friend' had ruthlessly fired in him.
Damon's patience had run out. Grabbing another knife from a minion, he seized Webster by his hair. "You came here purposely looking to take my Blood-Childe prisoner. Shooting him with bullets that weren't soaked in holy water. That wouldn't kill. Planning to torture and then poison him like you did William?" A cut along the cheekbone, and with skill and precision, the vampire began to peel away the man's skin.
Screaming so hard his throat hurt, Webster felt one side of his face combust. "CHRISTIAN, I wasn't taking you back to be tortured and poisoned." Damon had momentarily stopped the torment. He, like Angel, was an expert on prolonging the agony. "FOR CHRIST SAKES, CHRISTIAN. STOP THEM!"
Standing up slowly because of his pain, Christian was thoughtful. "You came here to take me back to the Council. Why? I've been turned now. I belong to my Father, not to the Council anymore. What was the plan?" Approaching Webster, the young vampire remembered his suspicions. The Council had deliberately thrown him into Damon's path. They wanted him to be claimed and turned.
"We. . .we can still save you, Chris." Panting with pain, Webster saw Christian as his only hope. "It's not too late. Get me out of here and. . . ."
Snatching the knife out of his Sire's hand, all of Christian's black doubts began to boil up in him. "SAVE ME? Save me from what?" Holding the knife to the patch of bare flesh, he began flicking at it with the tip. "What big scheme do you Council Hunters have for me?"
Webster tried to ignore the pain from the knife touching his exposed flesh. "We're going to turn you into one of the best vampire hunters ever. A vampire killing-machine. You'll soon eclipse the name Van Helsing."
"By turning me into a vampire?" Hand stilling, Christian was baffled.
"That's just the first step in the process. We plan to turn you into a Daywalker."
"A WHAT?"
Angel had heard enough. Grabbing the man by the hair to hold him still, he began cutting the skin off the other cheek. "I'm tired of listening to this bullshit. This nonsense." He threw the piece of skin that he had peeled off onto the floor, while Webster screamed and jerked. Stopping the torture, he stood a minute waiting for the screaming to stop. "Just what the hell is a Daywalker?"
"Wesley Snipes in the movie Blade." Sitting and watching the proceedings with his uncle, hand throbbing, Spike was trying to dull the pain with a bottle of Jack Daniels that he and Nic were sharing.
Turning to look at his Childe, Angel's expression softened. "Excuse me?"
"Wesley Snipes was this half human, half vampire character. He had the strength and speed of a vampire, but was still human. That's why they called him a Daywalker. Was rooting for the vampires in that movie, but even so, I have to admit that Snipes really knows how to kick someone's arse."
A rumble of disgust. "Hollywood perpetuating more lies." Looking around at Christian, Angel could see misery written all over his nephew's face. "Don't be afraid, Childe." Reaching out a hand, he stroked the fledgling's face. "I've been around for more than two and a half centuries, and I have never heard of such a creature existing. It's just the product of someone's vivid imagination."
But it wasn't fear that had Christian devastated. It was anger. The Council had deceived him. Used him. They had never cared for him as the person he was. They had only cared for what he could do for them. Rage boiled up in him as he began stabbing at Webster. "Bloody motherfuckers! Bloody hypocrites! You betrayed me! You let me die, just so you could have. . .have your. . .killing machine."
The scent and sight of human blood caused Christian's fangs to finally break through. Dropping the knife, he went for Webster's jugular. Human blood filled his mouth and he savored its taste and texture. And he took his revenge as he drank his enemy dry.
Damon's eyes met Angel's as he smiled in satisfaction. His Childe's demon had finally emerged.
****
Part 25
England, 1861
Opening his little attic window a crack, William strained his ears, trying to hear what was going on outside. The Master had come home today after a long absent. Had come home and was now was leaving again. Leaving in a temper.
The neighing of a horse and the sound of hoofs pounding the ground told the young vampire that the Master was gone. Gone without even coming to greet him.
"William!" The door flew open. Djoser always walked quietly. No footsteps announced his arrival, so he caught his younger brother by surprise. "William, come with me. You're to sleep in my room again tonight."
"Wot 'appened ?" William eyed the older vampire. Face bruised, clothes torn, lip split and bleeding.
"The Master wasn't happy. . .wasn't happy with. . . ." The mansion was in shambles. Penn and Lucien had decided to play safari expedition with a group of captured humans. . .indoors. Djoser and Ramose had been out hunting so had not been there to stop the two. The house's state had enraged Angelus, and he had held his Heir responsible. "He'll be back in a couple of days. We're suppose to get everything back in order by then." Stoic, Djoser motioned the younger vampire to follow him.
Descending the stairs behind the man who was the Master's Heir, William was totally mystified. "I dinnah why yer let 'im treat yer this way? Why do yer stay?"
"Watch your speech!" With the Master gone, William had a tendency to lapse into his natural English.
"That ain't the point. . .yer, Git." An annoyed mutter, but the young vampire obeyed. "He beat you for something Penn and Lucien did. T'ain't fair. You're his Successor, his Blood-Childe. He should have you sitting on top of a fuckin' pedestal."
Entering his bedroom, Djoser didn't answer right away. Grabbing a pillow and a blanket, he threw them at William. He refused to allow his younger brother to sleep in the same bed with him. He'd leaned quickly after a few unpleasant experiences involving blackened eyes and a broken nose. "Yes, I AM his Successor and Heir. He expects a lot from me. Expects that I will mind the household in his absence. That's my duty as his old. . . ." The dark vampire began to say oldest Blood-Childe, but then corrected himself, remembering that he was the only recognized' Blood-Childe in the family. "As his Blood-Childe."
Settling down in the corner with his blanket and pillow, William was still baffled. It was as if the Master couldn't abide either of his Blood-Childer. He himself wasn't recognized as a Blood-Childe because of his flaw. But why Djoser was treated so shabbily was indeed a mystery to him. "Still. . .you're old enough and strong enough. Why don't you go out on your own? Let HIM take care of his own household for once."
"I'm a Blood-Childe. My place is with my Father. I'm not allowed to leave." Stripping off his shirt, Djoser lay down on top of the bed's coverings.
"Not allowed to leave?" William looked up from taking off his shoes. "Why not?"
Heaving a sigh, Djoser looked over at the younger vampire. He was seriously contemplating gagging his brother. "Don't play stupid! You know our laws. Blood-Childer are tied to their Fathers, so they can be protected and safeguarded."
"Right, Mate." A quiet mumble as William thought about what was just told to him. He actually knew nothing about the Bloodline Laws. It was a lesson that he had absolutely refused to learn from his Venture teacher. "Like He's around so much to protect you. Hurts you more than he cares for. . . ."
"BE QUIET! I want to go to sleep now."
The words and the tone of voice were harsh, but William was undaunted. Djoser maintained a facade of coldness and indifference, similar to his Sire, but his actions contradicted his outward appearance. For four years now, the older brother had his sibling sleep in his room whenever their Sire was away. A protective gesture as it kept the younger vampire from being attacked and raped by Penn and Lucien. This small, kindly act was cherished by the lonesome vampire. Kindly acts were rare in his existence.
"He keeps me prisoner by force and you by your sense of duty. Smart man, our Sire." Hands behind his head, William said this softly to himself as he lay on the floor, head on the pillow.
"WILLIAM!"
"Yeah, Mate." Rolling over on to his side, William closed his eyes, fell asleep, and dreamt. Dreamt that his Sire had come home without the anger. Without the rage. And that he had come up the stairs to the small attic room to greet his youngest son.
**
"NO." Body language communicating her thoughts as Buffy backed away a few feet from the two vampires. "I AM NOT going to get in the middle of you and. . .and your. . .Angel. If you want to run away or whatever, that's your business. But I am not going to hide you out!"
"I'll help you track those knights who attacked you." Djoser took a step toward the Slayer.
"I don't need your help. Angel. . .your Sire has already offered me the services of a couple of scouts. That's more than sufficient."
"Slayer." Another small step toward Buffy. "There are whispers, rumbles regarding your. . .your sister."
"My sister? My sister is not the issue here." An alarm went off inside her. She didn't like this turn in the conversation.
"But she is." Black eyes barely visible in the darkness. "Because she's not your sister."
"No. She's not." Buffy turned to look at Spike. Her explanation was for his benefit too. "She's more than that. She's me. The monks made her out of me. I hold her. . .and I feel closer to her than. . . .It's not just the memories they built. It's physical. Dawn. . .is a part of me. The only part that I. . . ."
"We understand, Slayer, but we might be the only ones who do." Moving closer still, Djoser interrupted her. Like Angel, he had a vast physical presence. "Her blood is your blood. The same blood courses through both your bodies. It's the same with William and myself. We both have our Sire's blood, and like you and your sister, we are joined together by our blood. It's a bond that cannot be broken."
"O-kay." The conversation had now taken such a twist that Buffy was a little lost. "So you and Spike have a strong connection too. That's cool, but. . . ."
"They don't understand the bond you have with your sister like we do. As far as they're concerned, she's not your sister. She's not even human, and her death would solve everyone's problems."
"Just what are you saying?" Buffy didn't like what she was hearing. "And who is 'they'?"
"My uncles, my Sire, and. . .the two Watchers."
Anger and adrenaline began running through her as she took a moment to comprehend what was just told to her. "I'll stop anyone who tries to hurt her. And that includes you. . . ." Looking first at Djoser and then at Spike. "Or your High Master."
"And what about Giles or Wesley?" Spike asked. "You going to 'stop' them too?"
"Anyone, Spike. Anyone." Taking a deep breath, Buffy stepped right up to Djoser, bodies almost touching. Looking up, she could see his face, his eyes. "What do you know for sure?"
"There have been conversations. The Watchers still can't find any concrete way to prevent this Glory from bringing down an apocalypse, so. . . ."
"So the solution would be to kill Dawn." A whisper. A part of Buffy had known that this was coming. There was no doubt that Djoser's words weren't true.
"Help me now, Slayer. Help me to stay here, so I can protect my younger brother like you protect your sister. And to repay you, not only will I help you with those knights, but also, if it should come to pass, I'll back you against anyone who tries to harm her."
"And you can count me in too, Buffy." Head bent, Spike lit a second cigarette. It took a moment with a bandaged hand.
"And Angel? If he should say that Dawn must die, what then?"
Spike carelessly shrugged his shoulders. "We disobey him. Nothing new for me."
"WILLIAM!" A familiar bellow caught their attention.
"Our Sire!" Body tensing, Djoser poised for flight. "Quickly Slayer, your answer."
"You have a deal. I'll help you. But you had both better keep your word." A meaningful glare at Spike.
"Make your excuses and leave. Head back to town. I'll meet you a couple of miles down the road. I need to get away from the lair." With that said, Djoser melted away in the darkness as quickly as he had appeared.
"Come on, Slayer." Grabbing Buffy's arm, Spike began walking. "I know you can be a good liar at times, so let's see how well you can lie to my Sire."
**
Los Angeles,
"Gather some of your men." Snow didn't need an invitation to enter Hawkins' quarters, so he just let himself in. "I've called for more of my followers. We need to hit the Tremere Clan again. Quickly, before they can regroup."
"You mean to fucking tell me that you didn't take them?. . .And what about Chris?" Still in pain, Hawkins lay his head back on the couch cushion, closing his eyes. Roused out of bed in the late hours by the bad news that the Ventrues had attacked some the Council bases along the West Coast of the United States and were now headed for LA. All Council members stationed in LA and southern California had been ordered to leave immediately for New York or England.
"I was the only one who got away. All my minions dusted. And that man of yours. He was captured after he assaulted two of their Blood-Childer. He will be tortured and killed for that."
"Assaulted two of their Blood-Childer? What the fuck was that dumb ass Webster thinking?"
"He was trying to bring you back the new Childe. The one you gave to them." Expression hidden by glasses, Snow still showed contempt.
"Goddamn son-of-a-bitch! Not only didn't I get Chris back, but now I've lost Webster too! Fucking Angelus!" Hawkins said this with bitterness.
"Despite their victory, they've been severely weakened. I want to hit them again and quickly. I've already sent for more of my followers, but some trained Council hunters would help."
"We have to forget Angelus for now." Regret was evident in Hawkins' voice. "The fucking Ventrues are the current problem. That motherfucker Judelin. Why do I have the sneaking suspicion that he's been playing us all for fools? Not trained in combat, my ass! His Clan just went in and wiped out Council posts in Portland, Seattle, and San Francisco. They're headed here next, so we need to pull out."
Two long strides and Snow was pushing on Hawkins' broken collarbone. "I've finally got HIM where I want him. Cornered. I'm not going to let this opportunity slip by me! Now get up and call your men."
Gasping in pain, Hawkins was able to give Snow a shove. "Are you fucking crazy? What the hell's the matter with you?" Standing up, the Council hunter put some distance between himself and the vampire. "Didn't you hear what I just said? We've all been ordered to leave California. The Ventrues are on their way to LA now."
Staring at his human ally, Snow smiled. A deadly smile. "If we go and attack the Tremerens, the Ventures won't interfere. Judelin is not too happy with them now either. He put out a death warrant for that. . .that freak warrior Blood-Childe."
Hawkins gave Snow a puzzled look. "Djoser? You mean Djoser? Why in the hell don't you just say his name?"
"He was a favorite of my Sire. The Old Master wanted that Childe to be positioned with him at Court. But the Childe's Sire refused. One of the few times that the Old Master and his Favorite disagreed. . .that is until the revolt." Untroubled by the news about the Ventrues, Snow reminisced.
"HAVE YOU HEARD ANYTHING I'VE SAID, VAMPIRE? The Ventrues are looking for blood. We need to. . . ."
In a flash, Snow was nose-to-nose with Hawkins. "Don't ever shout at me, human. I'm gathering my people. I'm going back to Sunnydale. Now you can either join me, and afterward share the glory of my victory, or you can run back and hide with the rest of those cowardly, weak humans who call themselves The Council'. It's up to you, mortal."
**
"You picked out some minions then?" Standing in front of the mansion, arms folded across his chest, Angel watched Spike and Buffy approach him.
"Nah. . . ." First lie that popped in Spike's head began coming out of his mouth. "She thought they were all a bunch of nancy. . . ."
"I couldn't make up my mind." Buffy quickly interrupted while stepping on Spike's foot to shut him up. Turning her head so Angel could not see her face she gave her partner-in-crime a look that said, 'shut your trap, your lie is lame.' "Guess that fight with Glory really took something out of me. I'm tired. I'm going to go get Dawn, and we'll hunker ourselves down for what's left of the night. After some sleep, I can figure out what to do about those unknown knights. Maybe ask Xander and the gang to do some reconnaissance later today. I'll come back this evening and get some back up."
Eyeing her thoughtfully, Angel knew that the Slayer wasn't being exactly truthful. "I'll still send some scouts to do a sweep of the town before daybreak. If they find out anything, I'll send word to you."
Eyes widening, Buffy turned her head again to look at Spike. The last thing she needed was to have some of Angel's minions getting in her way. "You know. . .maybe Xander, Willow, and the gang are still up. Yeah. . .in fact I know they're up because they're with Giles waiting for me. I'll have them do a sweep. . .you needn't bother sending any minions."
"Yeah, right." Spike jumped in, trying to help. "After that free-for-all with Snow's mates, our boys need a rest."
Side-by-side, the two attempted to look and sound sincere as they stood in front Angel.
"William." Angel held out a hand. "Come here." He knew the pair was hiding something, but since he had no authority over Buffy, Angel decided it was best to not say anything more. Wrapping arms around the smaller body, he pulled his Childe tightly up against him. Holding his son made him feel better. It gave him the physical evidence that there was no chance of William running away to do god-knows-what with the Slayer. "Would you like an escort, Buffy? I can send some minions. . . ."
"Please! Minions walking the Slayer home. I'd never live it down." Giving Angel a glib smile, Buffy turned and began to walk swiftly away before any more questions or helpful assistance was offered. Taking a deep breath, she made a mental note to herself that when the crises were over, and Spike was once again healed, she was going to pound his ass for putting her in a position where she had to lie to Angel. And to make herself feel less guilty for lying, she also made a note that after Spike's ass was kicked, Djoser's would be next.
**
"How's your hand, Childe?" Back pressed up against his Sire's chest, Spike heard the whisper in his ear.
"It's fine. . .hurts like hell." Deciding that his lie quota was used up for the day, he told the truth.
"Come inside, and I'll look at it. Wesley can take a look at it too since he needs to take some blood samples from you anyway."
"Why the fuck does he need blood samples from me?" Spike already knew the answer, but belligerence was always a good defense against Angel. He knew that his Sire was trying to inveigle him out of his anger, and his simple, 'come inside' had sounded like a seductive invitation. Seduction was Angel's second weapon when force didn't work.
"Your cure, Childe. The Watchers are working on your cure. Soon you'll be whole again, and then we can all go to Germany." Arm still around Spike, Angel led his son inside.
"Why are you in such a bleedin' hurry to get to Germany? If you want to go back to the Old Country, why does it have to be there? What about England? Wouldn't mind seeing some of the old stomping grounds. . .oh, but I suppose England's out of the question? Council's headquartered there."
"An abandoned lair of the Old Master is in Germany."
"And what? The Old Goat left it to you in his will, and you want to go and renovate it?"
"An underground lair that's better than a fortress. It's an unsolvable maze with hundreds of deadly pitfalls. Some strategically placed guards and no one could take us."
"If it's this unsolvable maze with lethal traps, how are we not going to get ourselves killed in it?"
"Part of our training was to memorize the maze, and all its dangers. I know it. Damon knows it. And perhaps Djoser knows it too. I remember that we began to teach him the lair, but I can't remember if we taught him the whole maze, before. . .before. . . ."
"You were all kicked out of the Clan." Spike added helpfully.
Now inside the mansion, Angel stopped a moment, tightening his arms around his Childe. "Yes, before I rebelled."
"And why did the Old Goat. . .the Old Master have such a lair anyway? Who was he so afraid of?"
"He always liked to have his lairs underground because he was waiting for the Old Ones to emerge."
"The WHO?"
"The Old Ones. He worshipped them. The lair in Germany was built in their honor, and also to keep other Masters and their Clans out. The Old Master didn't want to share the glory when the Old Ones finally presented themselves."
"Ah-huh." Spike could help the mockery in his voice as he followed Angel into the adjoining room. {So that's why my Sire got his grand notion to awake the Acathla and suck the world into hell. Battiness runs in our Bloodline.}
**
Walking alongside Djoser, Buffy could feel his eyes on her. Uncomfortable, she kept remembering Spike's claim that his brother would make good husband material. The awkwardness stretched on as Djoser remained his usual taciturn self. Mind groping for something to say. Something that wasn't totally inane. But the only thing that came to mind was, 'how 'bout those Dodgers', and that was totally lame.
Sighing, Buffy remembered that the last time she had felt so nervous, so tongue-tied had been with Angel. Certainly she had never felt so with Riley. Giving herself a mental shake for such foolishness, she decided that the best plan was to just stick to business. "There was a large group of them, so I'm guessing that they have a camp somewhere. We should make a circular patrol around the. . . ."
"You don't have to tell me what needs to be done, Slayer. I already know." Djoser interrupted her.
"Self-confident much?"
"As a human child I was trained to be a warrior. I learned how to fight with fists and a variety of weapons. I was taught to battle on horseback, to track. . . ."
"You're not applying for a job here. I don't need a list of your qualifications." Like Spike, Buffy found that insolence could make a good defense.
But instead of becoming angry over her rudeness, Djoser just smiled. And it was his smile that stopped the Slayer dead in her tracks. His human face had a mouth full of perfect, white teeth. His smile was stunning. It lit up his whole face. "I guess you don't care to hear about me or my past."
"No-o, that isn't it at all." Again Buffy felt awkward. "It's just with. . .with Glory, and now these dumb knights, and. . .and Snow. I think we just need to concentrate on the business at hand."
"How right you are." Dark eyes unfathomable. "Business should come first and
then. . .pleasure."
****
Part 24
Peeling the last of the skin off the unconscious but still living vampire, Angel turned to two minions. "Wrap him up and send him to his master. Let him be a warning to Snow and his followers. Let them see what Angelus, High Master of The Tremere Clan is capable of."
"And the human corpse?" The dead and drained Webster was still hanging from the ceiling.
"Send it to the Council. A clear message. I'm not fucking around anymore."
"Angelus." Other than the minions, Damon was the only one who stayed to witness the torture until the end. His rage had abated and reason had taken over. "We might have won this battle, but the war is far from over. This encounter has damaged us considerably. We need to leave. We need to go to Germany and hide. For the sake of our Clan, for us, and especially for our Childer."
"Soon, Damon." Turning to the other vampire, Angel began to reassure. "My human. . .associate tells me that a cure for William might be soon. A few days longer, a week at the most."
"We can't wait even a day. They know we've been weakened. They'll strike again. . .quickly."
Pausing while considering his brother's words. "My Childe. . .my Childe needs to be whole again."
"He can still survive with your. . . ."
"THAT'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH! He's been like this for too long now. The longer it goes on, the more I wonder what permanent damage it may do."
Sighing, Damon paced, trying to find a solution. "The Council. The Council wants my Childe. You heard what that hunter said. They want. . . ."
"To turn him into a Daywalker." Angel was scornful. "They've got their heads up their asses. Thinking they can create some kind of. . .comic book superhero."
"Delusional, I'm sure. But they think they can do it." Damon was becoming agitated. A strong feeling was running through him. A feeling of fatherly protectiveness. "They'll do who-knows-what with him. Experiment on him. Turn him into god knows what kind of . . .thing. I can't. . .I won't allow it." Facing his Master, he wasn't intimidated. He had made his decision. "I'm going to leave. Take my Childe to Germany and safety. I'm also going to take the healer and a few of my favorites, but I'll leave you as many men as I can."
Angel's first impulse was to deny Damon the right to make such a decision, but after a few moments of consideration, he realized that the motivation stemmed from love for his Childe. A compelling and understandable reason.
"Once there, I will offer up sacrifices to our Deities that you, the Heirs, and the rest of our Clan will soon join us in Germany." Staring at his brother, Damon's eyes were clear and sincere.
Nodding his head in agreement. "I too hope that this separation will be short and swift." Turning to leave, he was stopped by one more request.
"When I leave, let me take Djoser with me." The voice was quiet, not a hint of usurpation.
Spinning around, this time Angel didn't stop to consider. "NO! Djoser stays here with me."
"Angelus, your attitude toward your oldest is rather casual, considering he's your Successor. You're protective and caring with William, but you treat your oldest like he's a glorified minion. Out of the three Blood-Childer who are left, he is the most important. The one who should be. . . ."
"Our Childer are not to be ranked. One is not more important than the other like it was in our Sire's days. They are all to be protected equally."
"Then let me protect him. There's a death warrant out for him. He, out of everyone, needs to be hidden away. Besides, keeping him here will only attract bounty hunters of all types, demon and human. Something you don't need now. You've already got your hands full with Snow, the Council, and helping the Slayer with this Glory."
Moments passed as Angel tried to find some excuse to keep Djoser with him in Sunnydale, but Damon's arguments had merit. Sighing in acquiescence, he knew that there would be opposition to this decision. "Don't fail me on this one, brother. I've sent Djoser away twice now, and each time it resulted in a disaster."
**
"To blessed bloody silence." Spike raised the bottle of Jack Daniels in a toast.
When the captive vampire's genitals began being flayed, he had gnawed through his gag from the pain. And that's when the screaming started, forcing Spike, Nic, and Christian to move into another room. Taking another swig from the bottle, Spike looked over at his cousin who was sprawled out on the floor next to him. "You ok, Mate? You look like you're ready to up chuck."
"I don't know." Pensive, Christian was just thankful for the quiet. "Got so many different emotions running through me now that I don't know how I'm feeling."
"Here. . . ." Spike handed the younger vampire the bottle of Jack Daniels. "This will help."
"It will?" Christian cocked an eyebrow in disbelief.
"Sure. Getting shit-faced always helps." Lying back, Spike gazed up at the ceiling. "Always helps me."
"Hey. . . ." Nic was lying on the couch, also relieved that there was now a peaceful calm. "Just make sure you guys keep passing that bottle this way."
Taking a tiny sip, Christian sat up to hand the Jack Daniels to Nic. "Actually I'm ok. I'll be ok. . . .But what about you?" He sat back down next to Spike.
"Ah. . . ." Holding up his injured hand, Spike studied it thoughtfully. "Hurts like a bugger, but it'll be alright. Have my ol' Sire lick it some more later."
"Wasn't asking 'bout your hand. Was wondering what happened to you. . .before."
"Before what?"
"During the battle. You froze. Something was wrong with you."
Sitting up, Nic had been listening to the conversation. Turning, he gave Spike an inquiring look.
"Wasn't nothing." Lying, Spike wouldn't look at either his uncle or cousin. "Just a. . .a. . . ." He was tired, so it was hard to come up with a good lie.
"Just a what?" Nic stared intently at his nephew.
"Just. . . ." Spike had been contemplating hard about what he had thought he saw, and had decided that Snow had just been a figment of his imagination. Their Clan had taken out all of the opposing vampires, and if Snow had been there, he too would have been captured or killed. "A momentary lapse, that's all. Sorry. . . ." He now looked at the other two vampires. "Sorry that I wasn't at my best for you."
Nic didn't like what he was hearing. "I had heard how the new and improved William the Bloody liked to brag about how he was the Big Bad' now. Wasn't one to have a lapse during a battle. What's wrong?"
"NOTHING IS WRONG! Just drop it, okay."
"Drop it? Don't know. Think it's something I should mention to Angelus."
"DON'T YOU DARE!" Spike could just picture what Angel would do with the news that his youngest froze in combat. Shackle them together again, so he could be the laughing stock of Sunnydale as well as LA.
"Hey." Entering the room, followed by Wesley Buffy ended the vampires' discussion. "Guess I missed all the fun."
"Looks like you had fun elsewhere." Spike commented as he took in her battered and weary appearance.
"Willow went looking to go all paybacky on Glory and. . . ."
"Were you able to hurt her this time?" Spike asked this with some impatience. It was hard for him to believe that this Slayer, this Slayer who had kicked his arse in spectacular fashion, couldn't harm one badly dressed ex-goddess.
"No, but Willow did a little damage."
"Losing your touch or what, Slayer?" Spike gave Buffy a hard look.
"I don't know." Falling into a chair, Buffy was tired. Tired of fighting all the time. Tired of being the one who had to save the world. "After escaping from Glory, we were also attacked by some. . .some costumed clowns. Do you think I could get some back up to do a patrol? See if I can track them down and find out who they are."
"Costumed clowns? You were attacked by clowns?" Wesley was trying to picture this while deliberately not looking over at Nic.
"NOT clown clowns. Some men dressed up like. . .like Sir Lancelot."
"Sir Lancelot? Knights? You mean they were dressed up like knights?"
"Yep. Was worried about Willow, so I couldn't really concentrate on them, and they ran away. But I want to track them down. They yelled something like, 'it's the Slayer, the protector of the key' right before they attacked. I don't like the sound of that. I want to. . . ."
"I'll help you, Slayer." Djoser had walked in and had heard the end of the conversation. "I'd like to do a patrol anyway. Just to make sure there are no more of Snow's minions still around."
"You think some got away?" Spike's head shot up, wondering if there was a possibility that he did see Snow. That the renegade vampire was somewhere in Sunnydale.
"No, but I like to be absolutely sure." Staring at the Slayer, the dark vampire had gotten his gun back from Christian. It was loaded. He was ready to go.
"Sounds good." Standing up, Buffy found the presence of Djoser oddly reassuring.
"WAIT A MINUTE." Nic roused himself long enough to ask the important question. "Did Angelus say it was alright for you to leave the lair and do a patrol with the Slayer?"
"I need to make sure there are no more enemy vampires still around." Djoser answered his uncle, but not his uncle's question.
"And who says it has to be you? We have scouts who do that."
"The Slayer doesn't want some lowly minions backing her up. She and I will do a thorough reconnaissance of the town and. . . ."
"She may do a thorough reconnaissance, but not with you." Angel had entered the room. Glaring first at Djoser and then at Buffy, he changed their plans. "I'll send a couple of scouts to do a sweep with you. And you. . . ." Turning to Djoser. "You need to go and pack your things. You'll be leaving for LA shortly."
"Why are you sending him to LA?" Standing up, Spike didn't like what he was hearing.
"You, Childe." Angel looked over at Christian, ignoring the question. "Go to your Sire. You're taking a trip."
"WHERE ARE THEY GOING?" Temper flaring, Spike could feel a tantrum coming on.
"Damon is taking them to Germany. We'll be joining them there shortly." Voice quiet but eyes hard, Angel stared at the occupants of the room, daring any of them to defy him.
Jumping up, Christian hurried to obey while Djoser, not saying a word, spun around and left the room.
"STUPID, SODDIN' TOSSER! Your brains must be in your arse because I can't believe that you're sending Djoser away again. Didn't the first two times teach you anything? He's not suppose to be sent away!"
"Don't start with me, boy! I'm not in the mood." Torn, part of Angel doubted his own wisdom in sending Djoser away. Feeling guilty, he didn't want to discuss the issue with anyone.
"Angel." Wesley too knew the history and was concerned. "Splitting your forces in half? How does that help. . . ?"
"GODDAMN IT!" A strong kick threw a wooden chair across the room. "I AM the High Master here, and no one has the right to question me!"
"Man. . . ." Taking a long gulp of Jack Daniels, Nic couldn't help but mumble. "You'd think he'd be in a better temper after a good flaying."
"Bloody Wanker!" Spike muttered this defiantly, but smartly realized that to say anything more would cross the line. His Sire was in one of his dark moods. A mood that said, the next person who challenges me will truly be sorry. A little off balance because of the bourbon and the pain in his hand, he stumbled out of the room after his brother.
"Djoser." Following the other vampire up the stairs, Spike called out to him. Anger at his Sire was muddling his brain, so he was having trouble thinking of a way to keep his brother from being sent away. The only plan that came to mind was to chain himself to Djoser and then swallow the key. But he realized that that idea was poor at best. Angel was quite capable of breaking apart any type of shackle. "Djoser. . . ." Standing helplessly in the doorway, watching his brother change into clean, all black clothing and arm himself with an assortment of weapons, including the Tec-9. "The airport is not going to allow you in, carrying your gun. They'll have you hauled away for. . .or is that the idea? Get thrown in jail, so. . . ."
"He thinks he can just order me around. Sends me to New York. Sends me with the Ventrues." Rage was boiling up in the vampire. "And now he snaps his fingers and says that I should go to Germany. Never cares what I want! Never even asks. Well. . .I DON'T WANT TO GO. I'M NOT GOING TO GO! WHO THE HELL DOES HE THINK HE IS?"
Spike was stunned. He had never ever witnessed such rebellion from his brother. Stepping in the room, he carefully closed the door. He didn't want anyone overhearing their conversation and then running and tattling to the Master. "Go ahead and say it, Mate. Our Sire is a brainless, dictatorial Nonce. Something you should have said years ago. Now just what the hell are you planning? Cause if you're planning to run away, then I'm coming with you."
Djoser's head snapped around at his brother's words. "Run away? I'm not planning to run anywhere. You can't leave our Sire. You need his blood. But I'm not going to have him send me away again. My place is here with him, with you. I especially don't want to leave you again."
"But the High Master has commanded. HE'S ordered you to go."
"I'm. Not." Black eyes were determined.
"So how exactly are you planning to stay here when the Lord and Master has spoken?"
"Going to go catch the Slayer now. Make a deal with her. I'll help her with those knights she's worried about, and then she can hide me out for a couple of days. Our uncle is in a hurry to go. He's afraid for his new Childe. He won't wait long. A couple of days, and he'll be gone, and then our Sire won't send me away. He won't chance sending me away without an escort."
"Good plan." Spike was impressed. "But afterwards, you'll be beat. HE doesn't like being disobeyed."
I've been beat before." Shrugging his shoulders, Djoser was unconcerned. "Now go and see if you can get the Slayer to step outside with you, so I can talk to her alone."
"Leave it to me. I'll get her outside for you." This was said with confidence. No one was better at subterfuge than Spike.
**
"Wesley, I think we should go now." Glaring at her ex-lover, Buffy's uncertainties were growing. Angel was certainly acting more like a soulless demon than a vampire with a soul.
"I believe you're right." Wesley too didn't like what he was seeing.
Swallowing hard, Angel controlled his wrath. "Let me send some scouts with you." A peace offering. He didn't want to antagonize his human allies.
"Don't bother." Buffy was abrupt with him as she turned to leave the room. "I can handle this myself. I don't need any help from you."
"Wesley, may I talk to you again about William's cure? Buffy. . .wait!" Angel followed the two out of the room. "My scouts are competent and well-trained. Don't let your emotions overrule good judgment."
Taking a deep breath, she stopped and turned, biting back the sharp retort. His admonishment angered her, but common sense told her that he was right.
Coming down the stairs, Spike heard their conversation. "I'll take you to meet them. You can then pick the ones you'd like to have patrol with you. And I can tell you which ones fight like men and which ones fight like pansies."
"William!" Angel was no fool. He knew his Childe was upset. And an upset William usually always expressed his anger by finding trouble. "YOU are not to leave the lair! Don't even think that you're going to find a way to leave with Buffy."
"I'm not going to leave the lair." Pretending annoyance, Spike heaved a huge sigh. "Just want to give the Slayer a hand."
Eyes narrowed, Angel could almost smell that his Childe was up to something. "He's not to leave the lair." He turned to Buffy. "You are not to take him with you anywhere. No matter what kind of arguments or complaints he has."
Another loud sigh while Spike muttered a single word. "Poof."
"He won't leave with me. I promise." Spike had flashed her a quick, meaningful look, and Buffy knew that the vampire was trying to tell her something, but the last thing she needed was to get involved in their family problems. So her words were not only to reassure Angel, but also to give Spike a clear message. She wasn't going to get caught in the middle of a dispute between a Sire and his Childe.
**
"Tell me the truth, Spike. Is Angel souled or not?" Stepping outside, vampire and Slayer had stopped a moment while Spike lit a cigarette.
"Don't know."
"What do you mean, you don't know? You've been living with him now for almost three months."
Kicking a piece of broken furniture out of his way, Spike inhaled the cigarette deeply. "Mr. Multi-Personality adds another persona to his repertoire, and I'm suppose to know? Djoser and Nic have a daily argument on whether he's cursed or not."
The two walked in silence for a moment. Each contemplating. "What did Giles say?" Wrapping her arms around herself, Buffy looked up into the night sky. "He has a soul, but that friend sorceress of yours cursed him with a weaker one. So a weaker soul can't control Angelus as much."
Spike gave Buffy a funny look. "You humans tend to go by the belief that his demon side is called Angelus and his souly side is called Angel, but that's not right. Angelus is his true, given name. Angel is just the handle he uses now. Not sure why, since it's such a poncy name. . .but I guess everyone was always mispronouncing Angelus."
"But do you think that's right? He has a weaker soul now?" Walking around the house, Buffy pressed the vampire. "I mean, he's been good to you now, hasn't he? He isn't that crazy Angelus. . .err, Angel from three years ago?"
"Yeah . .he's been the Good Daddy lately. . . .But you know that's just a phase of his. He's always played that game. Good Daddy'one day, and Bad Daddy'the next. It's an emotional roller coaster living with him."
Buffy couldn't see Spike's face, but she could still feel his sadness, his anguish. And for the first time since knowing the vampire whom she had branded as the bane of her existence, she felt a deep empathy for him. Having a Father whom was so unpredictable, so untrustworthy. Not unlike her own.
"But as far as if Alex cursed him with a weaker soul, I guess that could be a possibility." Spike threw his cigarette butt off to the side. "Too bad she isn't around to ask."
"So where are they?" The two had stopped in a grove of trees behind the house. The only light came from the half moon above. "The minions I'm suppose to pick from."
"Like I said before, Slayer." Djoser appeared out of the shadows. "You don't want some lowly minions backing you up when you can have a Blood-Childe of the High Master. I'll help you with those knights. And with me, you can be confident that your back will be covered. And in return, I just need a small favor from you."
****