Author's Notes: Elisabeth returned this part to me with a big question mark. She didn't remember the Ventrue Blood-Childe being taken captive. So for all of you who don't remember this small detail, it was back in part 13. It's a plotline that I've temporarily ignored because of the Glory plotline, but it will be playing an important role in chapters to come. Part of the problem is there's such a lag between parts that ppl tend to forget. My apologies for that, but I've never been a fast writer, and lately I've been struggling.

Part 32

"And what were the two of you doing?" Sure enough the first person Spike and Buffy ran into was Angel. Eyeing them suspiciously, the elder vampire was quickly coming to the realization that every time one of his Childer was with the Slayer disobedient plans were in the making.

"Trying out her new hammer." Expression virtuous as Spike lied through his teeth.

"Thought you were upstairs throwing up." Coming out of the sitting room, Nic joined the conversation.

"He was throwing up?" Startled, Angel took a step closer to Spike. His first thought was that Wesley's cure had sickened his Childe.

"Thought he was, but I guess I was conned." Nic couldn't help but grin at his nephew, even though he had been taken. Duped by a younger brat.

"Didn't con you." Spike was never one to miss an opportunity, as his uncle threw a perfectly good excuse for him being outside in his lap. "Went outdoors to heave. Didn't I, Slayer?" Giving Buffy a discreet kick.

"Err. . . ." Buffy couldn't believe she was once again standing in front of Angel, Spike at her side, lying her head off. "Yeah. . .he. . .was. . . ."

"And it's your fault." Directing the conversation away from the fact that he had been alone with the Slayer, Spike looked accusingly at his uncle. "You MADE me try and eat that. . .that crap you call food."

"Hey! I would have given you human blood, but since that's not allowed here. . . ."

"STOP!" Angel put an end to the argument. "Wesley!" He shouted for the ex-Watcher to join them. "He's sick!" Face darkening with rage as a cautious Wesley, hearing Angel's tone, came out of the living room. "My Childe's sick from that. . .stuff you pumped in him. You told me. You assured me that it wouldn't hurt him."

Now Buffy was the one to give Spike a kick. Giving him a meaningful look, her expressive eyes gave him a clear message; Do something! The last thing she wanted was Wesley to get in trouble for their lies.

"Ahh. . .Father." Stepping between the two men, Spike used his body to help shield Wesley. "I'm really feeling okay. Think it was just the pig's blood. You know, body's just not used to animal food after having a diet of entirely Sire's blood."

Angel studied his Childe carefully. "I don't like this. It seems strange that you would start vomiting now, right after Wesley gives you his medicine."

"Angel. I swear to you that there was not one ingredient in it that would be dangerous to your Childe." Wesley was defending himself when he was interrupted by Willow attempting to impede a determined Tara who was heading for the front door. "Tara, stop!"

"It's a big day. It calls me. I have to be there." The pretty witch mumbled as she tried to escape Willow's grasp.

Giles immediately understood Tara's ramblings. There was not a doubt in his mind. "It's time."

"I have places to be!" Now yelling, she grappled with Willow, struggling to get away.

"Let her go, Willow." Giles told the young woman quietly. "Stay close but don't crowd her. I believe she'll lead us to Glory. We'll follow in a minute." He turned to the rest of the people in the room. "Get your weapons, we need to go."

"Nic." Angel already knew his battle plan. "Gather the minions. You two. . . ." He addressed Djoser and Spike. "Arm yourselves with crossbows. Both of you will be keeping your distance from the fighting. Buffy. . . ." Turning to his ex-lover. "I'll back you up with Glory. The two of us together should give her a challenge."

"You just need to keep her occupied; you don't need to defeat her." Wesley handed Angel a sword. "If the window passes for her to do the ritual, then it's a victory for us."

"My minions will take care of Glory's followers. That will free the rest of you to rescue Buffy's. . .sister." Starting for the door, Angel was the picture of confidence and resolve. He hadn't forgotten what this so-called goddess had done to his Childe. It was time for retribution.

**

"What's going on here." Voice soft, Elder Snow sniffed the air of Sunnydale. The atmosphere was alive with electricity. He could see groups of people all heading in the same direction.

"Master." One of Snow's lieutenants approached him. "The scouts have just reported in. Angelus, with his whole clan has left the mansion. They're accompanied by the Slayer and other humans. All of them are armed. They look like they're headed for a battle."

"Hmm. . . ." Snow considered this news. "How interesting."

"Master. . .he wouldn't. . .he couldn't know that we're here already?" The vampire was uncertain. "Angelus isn't headed for us?"

"No. He's not expecting us. Thinks that that last beating he gave us defeated us completely. I always said that arrogance would be his downfall." Confident that a surprise attack would stack the deck in his favor, Snow pondered a moment, watching the mass of people. He could feel their purpose. "I'm guessing that Angelus is headed where all those people are going. Something big is going down, and I for one don't want to miss the festivities."

**

Keeping their distance, the vampires in one group and humans in another, they followed Willow as she trailed after Tara. Walking between Angel and Djoser, Spike glanced over at his brother noticing that something was missing. "Where's your gun, mate? Now would be the time to have it."

"The knights damaged it." Face stoic, Djoser still couldn't keep a note of regret out of his voice.

"Friggin' knights." Spike consoled his brother.

"Sire." Knowing that this might be his last chance to ask, Djoser looked over at Angel. "I'm not nearly as effective fighting from afar with this. . .weapon." He looked at the crossbow with contempt. Such a come down from the Tec-9. "As I would be with a sword. . . ."

"Are you questioning me, Childe?" Tone soft, but ominous.

"Yes, because. . . ."

"You'd be well advised NOT to!" First reaction to rebuke his oldest, but remembering Wesley's admonishment about his poor communication, Angel backed down. "Before he left, Damon pointed out to me that I've been lax in my protection of you. You are my Successor. I need to be more vigilant with you."

"Very good, Angelus." Even knowing that he was treading on dangerous grounds, Nic still couldn't help but comment. "Lock the barn after the horse has already gone. Should have thought of that two hundred years ago."

Realizing that his brother had a good point, Angel let the disrespect pass. "There's no need for either of you. . . ." His gaze swept over his two Childer. "To risk yourselves. I'm confident that Buffy and I can take this Glory. And the minions with Giles, Wesley, and the Slayer's friends can save Dawn. You, Nic." He addressed his brother. "Will keep an eye on these two, since you're their Sponsor now."

"What do you mean? HE'S our sponsor now?" Spike had been unconscious when Angel had named Nic Sponsor to his two Blood-Childer.

"Both Anton and Alex, your original Sponsors are dead now, so I've decreed that Nic will take their place."

"My reprehensible uncle is now my Sponsor. It's a humiliation that I can hardly bare." Djoser muttered this softly, but not soft enough so it wasn't heard.

"Yeah?" Truth-be-told, Nic was pleased to have such a position, but he wasn't about to let his snot-nosed nephews know that. "Like I want to be having to chase after and take care of you two ungrateful brats. Ungrateful and insubordinate. Both of you. Don't know what's happening to you, Djoser. This new, defiant attitude of yours probably has your GrandSire spinning around in hell."

Hating the squabbling, Angel suddenly decided that he had something vitally important to talk to Giles and Wesley about. Lengthening his stride, he walked away from his bickering brother and Childer.

"Thought he would never leave." Spike watched the retreating back of his Sire "Listen, Nic, Djoser and I need your help. You see, we made a promise to the Slayer about. . . ."

"If this promise in any way involves go against what Angelus has ordered, forget it."

"Since when did you start having scruples about obedience?" Disbelief evident in Djoser's voice.

"Since I. . . ." Pausing a moment, Nic admitted the truth. "Since I've been accepted back into my family. I'm not going to blow it again. And you two, whatever disobedient plan you're working on, you better abort it. This is not the time to be fucking around."

Exchanging looks, the two Blood-Childer of Angelus were stymied. There would be no way to help the Slayer if they were kept separated with people guarding them.

Rounding the corner, the three vampires found the rest of the group stopped and staring up at a tall structure that loomed above them. Heads tilting, they too stared at the strange edifice that stood before them. "Okay, I'm guessing this must be the tallest building here. . .err. . ." At closer inspection Nic saw that it wasn't any type of building. "What the fuck is that?"

"Shpadoinkle." Xander told him helpfully.

"The gateway must open up there. This structure was built specifically as a stairway to the portal." Giles explained to the group.

"And it was built by these yo-yos?" Nic took a good look at Glory's crazy human followers. "Where's the building inspector when you need him?"

"I think that's him over there, holding the welding torch." Squinting across the way, Xander was almost sure that the man was the building inspector he had met once.

Eyes scanning over the scene in front of her, Buffy searched for Glory. It only took a moment for her to spot the goddess who was approaching the newly arrived Tara with suspicion. Turning to Willow, she knew it was time to make a move. "Will, you're up. Now's the time to try that spell you were telling me about. See if you can reverse what She did to Tara."

Face fearful, Willow took a couple of deep breaths. "Could use a little courage."

"I've got some bottled courage here, Red." Spike dug in his pocket for the small flask that he was carrying. "Straight rye whiskey. A couple of swallows of this, and. . . ." He was cut-off by Angel grabbing the flask away from him.

"It's the real kind I need. . .but thanks anyway, Spike." Willow gave the vampire a shaky smile, before a resolute expression crossed her face, and she began to make her way over to Tara and the goddess.

Turning to his minions, Angel was about to order them to begin attacking Glory's underlings when he saw them. A large group of vampires, all with a white streak in their hair, coming straight for them.

**

Los Angeles, California

Abenrey, High Master of the Toreador Clan watched as the few clan fighters that had remained of his Clan after the Council Attack were put to death. Standing just a few feet from him was Judelin, the Ventrue High Master.

"You managed to escape being defeated by the Council, but you will not be so fortunate with me." Judelin's smooth voice, so pleasant to the ear, struck sheer terror in the undead heart of the Toreador's High Master. "In fact, after I'm done, you will be sorry that you survived the Council because I can be so much more merciless than humans."

"Judelin, High Master of the Ventrue Clan." Not sure how to address the other Master, Abenrey tried to play it safe by speaking formally. "You were always respectful of any Bloodline vampire, whether it be one of your Clan or another Clan's. Take your revenge by killing me, but have mercy on my Blood-Childer."

"You were foolish." His back to the Toreador Master, Judelin did not look at the other vampire. "Foolish in making me your enemy."

"Your plan was to take over all of the Clans. By kidnapping your GrandChilde, we only wanted to give ourselves some leverage. We never meant for him to be taken by the Council and Snow."

"Your intent was never to hurt him then?" Spinning around, Judelin looked closely at the other vampire. He could usually tell when someone was lying.

"I too believe in our laws. Your GrandChilde was never in any danger from me. In fact, when we were attacked by the Council, I ordered that he be protected like one of my own."

Moments passed as Judelin remained silent, studying the other Master vampire. And then in a movement that was just a flash of light, he pulled out a stake and buried it in Abenrey's chest. The Ventrue Master watched his adversary dissolve into dust while addressing him for one last time. "How thoughtful of you, Abenrey. But I do wonder, if you protected him like you protected your own, then why was he taken while your Blood-Childer remained safe in the lair?" Looking up, he studied the Toreador's two captive Blood-Childer. "But they are safe no more."

**

"This is ridiculous!" Djoser was frustrated. Using the crossbow, he was helping the humans by picking off Glory's minions. "Give me a good sword, and I could take the lot of them."

Looking over his shoulder, Spike did a quick assessment of the success Giles, Wesley and the Scoobies were having against the goddess' followers. "Yeah, looks like they could use your help, cause they're not getting anywhere. What the hell is the matter with Giles and Wesley? A couple of Watchers who were trained in battle by the Council, and they can't take a few midget demons and some fruitcake humans?"

"Do you see any kind of hand weapon I could use?" Djoser asked his brother as he reloaded the crossbow. The two had decided that they would split the duties. Spike was helping the Clan's cause by aiming for Snow's minions, and Djoser was taking aim at Glory's followers.

"Maybe." Surveying the combat zone, Spike tried to see a dropped weapon through all the battling bodies. "What are you going to try to do?" He asked, noticing that both Nic and Angel, although staying in close proximity, were pretty well occupied by Snow's minions.

"Going to go help those pathetic humans. If we leave the fight in their hands, we'll be here until the end of the world really does come." Shooting his weapon, Djoser took down another of Glory's minions.

Crossbow up to his eye, Spike was looking for a target. "Well, looks like the Slayer's at least keeping bitch goddess busy. So if you can take down her minions, then the humans can rescue Little Bit. . . ." Words froze in his throat, as Spike, lowering the crossbow, saw HIM. A slim figure, wearing dark glasses, keeping himself apart from the fighting. Watching the battle with a casual air, like he was watching a horse or yacht race.

"So do you see a weapon?" Djoser turned to his brother. "Our Sire and uncle are too busy now to. . . ." Stopping in mid sentence as he saw the expression on Spike's face. "What's the matter? What. . . ?" Looking over to where his brother was staring, he too saw the man. "SNOW!" The warrior vampire hadn't forgotten the torture Elder Snow had inflicted on his younger sibling. "THAT SON-OF-A-BITCH IS HERE!" Throwing down the crossbow, Djoser saw a discarded sword lying close by.

"Wait!" Grabbing his brother's arm, Spike stopped him. "Where the hell are you going?"

"Going to take some revenge for our family." Djoser couldn't take his eyes off Snow. "You stay here and help the humans. I'll take care of this traitor."

"DJOSER!" Holding the arm tighter, Spike couldn't shake the terror he felt. For himself and his brother. "You're not suppose to directly involve yourself in the fighting. And what about Little Bit? You promised. . . ."

"The goddess has her hands full with the Slayer, and even though the humans are completely embarrassing themselves, they are at least keeping her minions occupied. Neither Glory nor any of her followers can hurt the little girl." Pulling his arm free, Djoser began walking away.

Looking around for his uncle, Spike saw that Nic was busy with a couple of Snow's minions. "Djoser, wait!" Not wanting his brother to take Snow on alone, he began to follow.

**

One arm around the head of the enemy, Angel held the vampire in a powerful grip while delivering a strong kick to another. Pressing his arm down, he squeezed the head he held against his ribs. Tighter and tighter until the skull began crushing under his strength. The head caved in, and the vampire dissipated into dust.

The demon in Angel howled in satisfaction and clamored for more. He wanted to mangle and smash more of the enemy.

"Master!" A voice caught his attention. Looking around, he saw a minion pointing to two figures making their way across the battlefield.

"NIC!" Yelling to his brother, Angel began to sprint toward his Childer.

At that same moment, Nic had noticed that his nephews had left the protected spot that they had been ordered to stay in. Racing to them, he managed to grab Spike just as Djoser came face-to-face with Snow.

"Well, well, well. The Pseudo-Sucessor himself. You don't know how long I've been waiting to get my hands on you." Snow's hidden gaze examined Djoser, before he looked around at the rest of the Tremeren vampires. "And you brought the rest of the family? How thoughtful of you. Just makes everything easier for me." A snap of his fingers and four, big, muscular, vampire bodyguards, hidden in the darkness behind some heavy machinery, stepped out to flank him.

****

Part 33

England, 1885

The urge to touch the mutilated body was overwhelming as William's curiosity got the better of him. "Git's still alive; he's not dust." Quietly said to himself, as he stepped closer, reaching out a hand.

"William!" A hoarse whisper as he was pulled away by Djoser. "Don't touch the. . . ."

"DID HE LAY A HAND ON THAT. . .FILTH?" Coming out of the house, Angelus had just finished washing the blood and gore off his body.

"No, Sire." Staring hard at his younger brother, Djoser's dark eyes conveyed a warning, Just go along with what I say.

"Boy." A low growl. "Step away. You are not to sully yourself with this. . .this creature."

Moving a few paces backward, William was confused. That creature was a minion sent by Heinrich Nest. Just one of the many minions sent to punish those who dared to defy the High Master. All of which had been dusted by Angelus and his servants, except for the one who was now a bloody mess of innards and bones.

"Wrap him up and send him to my Sire." Demon visage still in place. Gold eyes so filled with fury that they glowed red. "Let him see what his Childe is capable of."

"Go to your room, Will." Djoser's whispered voice held an urgent tone. The warrior vampire recognized the crazed rage in his Sire's reddened eyes and knew that if his younger brother stayed, he would soon feel the brunt of the Master's irrational temper.

"Right." Part of William understood Djoser's insistence. Since the revolt and the subsequent escape to England, Angelus' anger against him had increased. The favorite Childe of Heinrich Nest had lost his position as one of the three Heir Apparents of the Tremeren Clan, and he blamed his disgrace on his youngest Childe.

Backing up, William couldn't take his eyes off the mangled body of the agonized vampire. He would never forget that sight, and would always associate it with his Sire's eyes, gold eyes that flared red.

**

Germany, 1885

"Master." A prized and trusted minion fell to his knees in front of Heinrich Nest. "I'm afraid the news is not good."

"Yes, Luke, I already know." The master vampire didn't need to be told. A part of him had already sensed what had happened. "Our fighters were not successful."

The minion said nothing, just bowed his head.

"Did any of them survive?"

"Just one, Master." Standing up the minion Luke signaled for the body of the one survivor to be brought in. "Angelus sent him back to us, along with. . . ." A powerful, fairly old vampire, he still couldn't suppress a small shudder as he viewed the torn up body of a fellow minion. "A communication."

"Read it to me." Turning his back, Nest put a long finger up to his face thoughtfully.

"Sire. . . ." Luke began to read.

"Angelus is. . . ." Luke folded the letter while again looking at his suffering comrade. "Is certainly inventive in his methods of torture."

Looking up at the ceiling, Nest couldn't help the regret that filled him. "He is the most vicious creature I have ever met. . .and he was to have sat at my right hand, come the day."

For years, Heinrich Nest had toyed with his Childer, refusing to officially name the one who was to be his Successor. It had been a weapon he used to keep them submissive and guessing. This was the first and only time that he would make the admission that Angelus was to have been his Successor.

**

Facing Snow, Angel and Nic acted in perfect unison as they stepped in front of the two Blood-Childer. A protective stance. "William, Djoser. Go back by the humans." Growling, Angel couldn't take his eyes off Snow. Fury burned inside of him as he remembered his son's wounds. Scrutinizing the renegade vampire thoroughly, he tried to place him, but the man before him remained an unknown.

"Sire." Djoser protested. "We're Bloodline vampires. We DO NOT run away from anyone, especially. . . ." He gave Snow and his bodyguards a look of contempt. "Inferior minions."

"Like father, like son." Mumbling, Snow snapped his fingers again, signaling his bodyguards to attack. "Arrogant beyond belief."

Trained to fight to the death, the four vampires attacked with everything they had. They had nothing to lose.

"Just keep the Sire and his brother busy." Snow ordered them. "I only need the Blood-Childer. They're the ones I came for."

**

After helping Buffy by swinging a wrecking ball into Glory, Xander raced back to the rest of the gang to give them a hand. "So how we doing?" He asked, hoping that the answer would be better than the evidence before his eyes.

Holding a baseball bat tightly, a disheveled Anya answered him. "So far it's a tie."

Looking around, the young man observed that both Spike and Djoser were no longer behind them, but engaged in battle with Snow's minions. "Thought Dead-Boy Juniors I and II were suppose to stay here by us, away from those skunk vamps. Gotta say, they listen to their father as well as I listen to mine."

"Where are they?" Forgetting himself, Wesley stood up to get a better view and promptly got hit in the head by a flying brick.

"Over there, fighting some of Snow's boys." Peering up at the big group of Glory's minions and crazies, Xander was unconcerned. They had their own war to fight.

"They're not supposed to be. . . !" Keeping himself low, an annoyed Wesley grumbled as he started to walk away.

"Hey, Wes!" Xander grabbed the ex-Watcher's arm. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To bring back Spike and Djoser. And when this is all over, I am going to make sure that Angel is aware of their disobedience, and I just might ask if I can take part in their beating afterward."

"Wesley." Giles was puzzled by the other man's priorities. "We need you here. Spike and Djoser are Angel's problem."

"No, Rupert, they're our problems as well. You know that. I informed you about what that Anagogic demon, Lorne, told me about Angel turning to his dark side if anything happens to his Childer, Spike in particular." Checking his watch, Wesley did a quick calculation. "There's only a few minutes left to start the ritual. Buffy's keeping Glory busy. If the rest of you can just keep them. . ." He glanced briefly at Glory's demonic minions and human followers. "Occupied, then we'll be all right."

Said with confidence, Wesley would sadly remember his erroneous words.

**

The enemy vampire held Nic from behind, trying to get both hands around Nic's head so he could snap his neck.

Struggling, Nic knew he was fighting a much stronger opponent. He tried to kick backwards, while still battling to keep Snow's minion from breaking his neck. A few feet away from him, Spike, weak and out of fighting condition, was lying on his back, the bigger vampire on top of him.

Seeing Snow approach his nephew, Nic became desperate. Slamming his head back into his foe, he hoped to break a nose, but the other vampire held tight. "Goddamn! Son-of-a-bitch!" He swore. "ANGELUS!" The body of the minion was blocking his view, so he couldn't see how his brother was faring with the other two enemy vampires. "Angelus! Snow's going for. . . ."

One minute his head had been held in what felt like a vise, and then next, deliverance from an unexpected source. So intent on killing each other, not one of the vampires had noticed Wesley, sword in hand, stealthily approaching them. A controlled swing as he sliced the nape of the minion. Bellowing in pain, the vampire swung around to face his attacker, and the ex-Watcher swung again, this time taking the whole head.

Released, Nic never stopped to assess the situation; he just dove for the minion who was holding Spike down. Knocking the enemy off his nephew, he and the other vampire tumbled on the ground for a few feet.

"WESLEY!" An exhausted Spike found he couldn't even get up. Rolling on his side, he yelled a warning to his human ally. "The bastard with the sunglasses. That's Snow!"

Sword held high, the Englishman charged, but Elder Snow was an old, experienced vampire, faster and stronger than any human. A few swift steps and he plunged a hypodermic into the side of Nic's neck, before grabbing the charging Wesley's upraised hands. "You support the Bloodline vampires? You're supporting the wrong side, human." Strong fingers tightened their grip around Wesley's wrists, as a knee connected with his groin.

Gasping in pain, the ex-Watcher couldn't stop the sword from falling out of his hands.

**

Still too shaky to stand up, Spike, on his hands and knees, was frantically searching for his crossbow. Like a movie in slow motion, he saw the minion push his now unconscious uncle off, and get to his feet. He saw Snow grab Wesley, saw the sword fall to the ground.

Knowing that Snow vastly outmatched him, Wesley began to battle with the knowledge that he was going to die. Fighting back with desperation, he was able to hold his own for a few precious moments.

Realizing that the human was the only thing standing between him and one of his prizes, Snow snapped impatiently at the minion who had just gotten up. "Help me with this being. Quickly, before Angelus gets here."

Thinking that Spike wasn't any kind of a threat, the vampire ignored him as he moved toward Wesley. Arms outstretched, the minion reached for the human, but before he was able to do any harm, an arrow caught him in the back. Piercing the ribcage and a lung, it found its mark in the vampire's undead heart. An expression of surprise and the second of Snow's bodyguards dissipated into dust.

"Take that, motherfucker." Spike smiled in satisfaction. Despite his shakiness, it felt good to get back into action. Quickly reloading the crossbow, he raised it up to take aim at Snow, the man who had been haunting his nightmares for the past several months.

Seeing Spike aim for him out of the corner of his eye, Snow growled savagely as he threw Wesley down. Two quick steps and he was close enough to kick the crossbow out of the younger vampire's hands. "I must say, Childe, you do live a charmed life." Grabbing Spike by the throat, he raised him in the air. "I expected you to be a blackened half-dead corpse by now. But never mind you will be soon."

Refusing to show his fear, Spike curled his lip. "I am not your Childe!" He hissed at Snow before spitting in his face.

Howling in rage, Snow lost control as he flung the younger vampire away. "HOW DARE YOU SPIT ON ME! You sorry excuse for a demon! You'll pay for that!"

Hitting the ground hard, Spike felt the human sensation of having the wind knocked out of him. Shaking his head, he tried to regain his equilibrium. A few feet from him lay an equally spent Wesley, and between them lay the dropped sword.

Seeing Spike eye the sword, Snow could only smile in satisfaction. He had recovered his lost restraint. "Go ahead, Childe. Pick it up and see if you can kill me."

Rubber legged, Spike stood up, sword in hand. He'd go down fighting because that's what a Tremeren Bloodline vampire did. "Listen you pissant! I told you once. I'm not your Childe!" Raising the sword, he took a swing at Snow, but in his weakened condition he was no match for the stronger, older vampire.

Easily ducking away from the sword, Snow countered by knocking it out of Spike's hand and once again grabbed him by the throat. "You really are a pretty boy, aren't you? I suppose that's what has captivated your Sire all these years. But you won't be so pretty when the poisons blacken your skin. I am so going to enjoy torturing you again. Marring those smooth, white features of. . . ."

The renegade vampire never finished his thought as he was seized from behind. "The penalty for assaulting a Blood-Childe is death by torture." A growl in his ear as strong hands forcibly broke his grip on the neck he was holding.

Grasp broken, Spike fell to the ground. Looking up, he saw Angel, arms around Snow in a bear hug, demon face twisted in fury, gold eyes flaring red.

**

Spike carried his uncle's upper body, while Wesley had Nic by the feet. Walking backwards, he couldn't help but watch Angel, locked in combat with the vampire he'd dubbed, the eyeless nutter."Elder Snow." He mumbled. "May I introduce you to my Father, the Scourge of Europe. The meanest, most vicious vampire ever to exist." Grinning, he knew that Snow had no hope in hell to beat his enraged Sire. When Angel's ire was up, he was a frightening force. A force that even the powerful Heinrich Nest had been wary of.

"What's that you're saying, Spike?" Wesley heard the muttering, but couldn't catch the words.

"That Mr. Snow's going get his arse beat." A happy thought that seemed to make some of Spike's weakness melt away. "Along with the rest of his mates." A quick study of the combat zone, and Spike had reassured himself of his brother's well being. Djoser had been able to hold his own against Snow's minion, but now he was getting help. The Clan had already taken out most of Snow's followers, and now were quickly going to the aid of their Heir Apparent.

Reaching the rest of the gang who were still hunkered down behind some machinery, Wesley and Spike gently laid Nic down on the ground.

"No progress?" The ex-Watcher asked an out-of-breath Giles.

"No, we haven't been able to get to Dawn. . . ." Giles glared up at the top of the portal. "But then neither has anyone else."

"Bit's up there?" Spike stared upwards.

"Yes, but we've been able to keep Glory's followers busy, so none of them have had the opportunity to. . . ."

"Someone's up there." Superior vampiric vision seeing two figures on top of the tower. "Rupert, are you sure that none of the bitch's minions snuck up. . . ?" Exasperated at the humans' incompetence, Spike turned to Giles when a voice in his head interrupted him.

"Is there someone up there with Dawn?" Willow communicated this question telepathically.

Recognizing the voice, Spike answered out loud. "Yeah, can't tell who though."

"Are you talking to us?" Xander asked, giving Spike a confused look.

"Get up there. Go now." The situation was an emergency, so neither Willow nor Spike stopped to consider that perhaps someone else, would have been a better option than the weakened vampire to go save Dawn.

Together with Tara, magic was channeled from the two witches, parting Glory's minions and crazies and clearing a path for Spike. Taking off quickly, he raced toward and up the tower's stairs, taking the three human men by surprise.

"SPIKE!" Standing up, Wesley started to go after him, but the crowd of hostile demons and humans closed fast, leaving the ex-Watcher to helplessly watch the vampire run off.

Reaching the top, Spike was shaky. Legs weak with fatigue, he gulped large mouthfuls of unneeded air. "Better just be one of Glory's midget demons, or a human, cause if it's anything more, I might be in some serious shi. . . ." Breaking off his muttering as he came face-to-face with a small, elderly man.

"I know you." The man greeted Spike.

"SPIKE!" Each arm tied to a tower beam, Dawn yelled a warning to the vampire. "He's not what he seems. He's an ally of Glory."

"Yeah, I know you." Friendly smile on his face, the man acted like the whole scene was a casual, social event. "My name's Doc. I remember seeing you hanging around the corner mart."

Sniffing the air, Spike knew that the being before him was not a human. "I don't think so. Got the wrong bloke, mate."

"No, I swear you're that guy. Hair's a different color, and you're a vampire, but other than that. . . ."

"Perhaps your eyesight is going." Spike saw the glint of a knife hidden behind the demon's back and knew he would have to make a move. Readying his body to attack, the vampire was overconfident. Fooled by Doc's deceptive physical appearance, and still high on Snow having to face off against his Sire, he didn't stop to take in to consideration that his reflexes and strength were slower and weaker. He rushed the demon, but Doc just calmly sidestepped him.

Plunging the knife in Spike's back, the demon grabbed the surprised vampire. "I'd love to chat some more, but I do have a prior appointment."

Spike's eyes met the scared eyes of Dawn a moment before he was thrown off the tower.

**

Punching Snow hard in the face with his left hand, Angel made a grab for the vampire's sunglasses with his right. Closing his fist, he crushed the glasses while smiling with satisfaction. "You've got two, normal eyes, just like any other vampire."

Mouth and nose bloodied, Snow leaned up against the wall behind him. It was the only thing keeping him on his feet. "What?"

"Two eyes right where they're supposed to be. . . ." Countenance darkening, Angel stared at Snow ominously. "But not for long." Lunging, he grabbed the vampire, and held him in a headlock. Stiffening and stabbing the fingers and thumb of his right hand into Snow's eye, he savored the egg like texture while pulling the eye out of its socket. "I've been neglectful of my William and need to make it up to him. I think a gift of your eyes will be a good start, don't you?"

Enjoying the screams, Angel slipped the eye into his coat pocket. He held tighter to the body in his grip, which was thrashing around in agony. Starting to aim for Snow's other eye, a frantic shout from Djoser interrupted him. "SIRE!"

Turning to his Childe, Angel saw him point upward. Tilting his head, he saw the reason for Djoser's desperation. The body of his youngest son falling from the top of the tower.

****

Dedications: To Elisabeth, my beta reader, the Communications and Journalist Major whose expertise in grammar and punctuation garnishes me compliments which I probably don't deserve. <g>

To my husband who after hearing that Buffy wasn't going to be shown at all last Tuesday because of the basketball game, said that he would drive me to Chicago and rent a motel room, so I could see the new Buffy episode. That was so cool!

Part 34

Los Angeles, The Hyperion Hotel

Consciousness creeping over him, Spike tried to push it back. He didn't want to wake up. Didn't want to remember the look on Dawn's face when he failed her. Didn't want to remember his last sight of Buffy, lying on the ground, body broken and lifeless.

The Slayer had been victorious. She had taken on the goddess Glory and won. Angel and the Clan had beaten down Snow and his followers. The only one who had failed was him. He had presented no challenge to the goddess' ally, the demon named Doc. Thrown off the tower as if he were a mere child, giving Doc the opportunity to begin the ritual. And because of his ineptitude, the seemingly invincible Slayer was now dead.

Grabbing a pillow, he put it over his face, trying to force his mind back into oblivion, so it would stop thinking. Stop remembering.

Groaning, he turned over on his side. His Grandsires had been right when they had declared him to be flawed. Flawed. Weak. Not good for anything. Wasn't worthy to be a Blood-Childe, let alone the Blood-Childe of Angelus. "My Sire would never have let everyone down like I did." He muttered to himself. "Damon, my brother, even Nic. None of them would have. . . ." Hearing the sound of footsteps, he broke off, closed his eyes, and pretended to be asleep.

Entering the room, Angel frowned anxiously. Late afternoon and William was still sleeping. Not unusual for vampires if they had stayed up until dawn, but his Childe had gone to bed around midnight. An unheard of hour for his hyperactive son. "William." He spoke softly while running his hands over Spike's slim body, assuring himself that indeed the bones and ribs were mending. Wesley's medicine was making a difference. "William, Childe, it's time to get up."

Eyes just slits as Spike barely opened them. "Still tired. Don't want to get up yet."

"William." Angel knelt down on the bed beside him. "You need to eat something. Would you like. . . ?" Leaning down, he whispered in an ear. "Some chicken wings dipped in Sire's blood?"

"Not hungry. Just want to sleep more." Rolling over, Spike presented his back to Angel.

"Hey." Passing by, seeing the door open, a stiff and sore Nic poked his head in. "Is that lazy bum still in bed? William, get up. The humans are planning to have pizza. We can order one and then jazz it up vampire style." Figuring his nephew to be a pizza lover, he offered that bribe, hoping it would motivate Spike to get out of bed.

"Don't want pizza. Just want to be left alone, so GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"

Sighing, Nic rolled his head around trying to loosen the muscles in his neck. "Ever since we came back from Sunnydale. . . ." He addressed Angel. "Your kid is either sleeping or having an attitude. He can't be in that much pain, can he?"

"That was a horrible fall even for a healthy vampire, but with him being poisoned. . . ."

"The poisons have been cured." Nic interrupted. "Just heard that from Wesley."

"AND HOW DOES HE KNOW?" Worry manifesting itself in a raised voice, as Angel stood facing his brother, hands on hips.

"Because you told him to take and test some blood samples from William." Halting a head roll, Nic heaved another deep sigh.

"Hey! Can you two take your conversation elsewhere? Person trying to sleep here." Raising his head off the pillow, Spike yelled this over, not caring that he was being disrespectful to his Elders.

"You've slept enough." Nic couldn't help but snap back. "That's all you do is sleep, and the few hours you're awake all you do is stare at. . . ." He motioned to the glass container that contained an eyeball floating in liquid formaldehyde. "That. . .Snow's. . . ."

"Don't mention his name in my presence." Angel said through gritted teeth. Temper flaring as he was reminded of Snow. Reminded that the man had escaped and was now hiding out somewhere.

"NIC! Go and mention that *scat queen's* name in another room, so I can have some friggin' peace and quiet." Sitting up, Spike was at his wit's end as to how get his Sire and uncle to shut-up.

Motioning his brother to leave, Angel turned toward the bed. "William, are you in a lot of pain?"

Shrugging, Spike reached for his glass jar. Lying back, he stared at the eye. One of the few gifts his Sire had ever given him.

Hands in pocket, the elder vampire approached the bed. "My intention was to give you both his eyes, but. . . ."

"But you were interrupted by your useless, youngest son getting himself thrown off a tower." Spike couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. Djoser would never have allowed himself to be taken out by some short, old man demon.

"What's wrong, Childe?" Sitting on the edge of the bed, Angel reached out, placing both hands on the sides of his son's face.

"I. . .it's nothing." Holding the glass jar tightly against his chest, Spike buried himself in his Father's arms. "Just tired." He didn't know what else to say. How could he talk to his Sire, the legendary Angelus, about his embarrassing failures, when his Father didn't understand the meaning of the word failure?

Stroking his Childe's head, Angel opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but like so many times in the past, he had no idea how to even begin asking the right questions.

**

Looking up as Nic entered the hotel lobby, Wesley was relieved to see that the vampire seemed to be suffering no serious effects from the paralyzing drug that Snow had injected in him. "Still stiff?" He asked with polite concern, then turned red as he realized what he had just said.

Wesley's help with Snow's bodyguards had softened Nic's hostility, so with a friendlier attitude, the vampire grinned at the Englishman's double entendre. "Always. Don't suppose you'd be willing to offer a helping *hand*. Could use a massage."

"Well, I. . .err. . . ." Beet red, Wesley stuttered and stammered. Happy that Nic had gotten over his anger with him, he tried to find something to say that would redirect the conversation without upsetting the vampire again. "Err. . .not real good with my hands, but. . .err. . .by the way, I've got some good news. . . ."

"How are with your mouth. . .Wes?" Leaning over the counter, Nic was just inches away from the Ex-Watcher's face.

"Ah hum." Clearing her throat, Cordelia looked up from the magazine she was flipping through. "This is a big place with plenty of rooms. If you two are planning to get groiny, go somewhere else where I don't have to watch."

Sighing, Wesley looked upward, praying that the earth would open and swallow him. "Cordelia. . .we weren't getting. . .groiny. Nic here was injected with a powerful paralyzing drug by Snow. . . ."

"What about him?" Coming into the hotel lobby, Angel frowned at hearing the name Snow again. "Did you call Giles like I asked you to? Is the Council giving sanctuary to that. . .*bastard*?"

Saved from any further embarrassment by the entrance of Angel, Wesley answered in relief. "No, according to Giles, the Council has broken off their alliance with Elder Snow. Not only won't they give him sanctuary, but upon hearing that he's wounded and hiding somewhere, they've sent a party of vampire/demon hunters to find and destroy him."

"So-o, can we safely say that Snow will soon be dust?" Cordelia got up from her seat at her old desk to go and stand next to Wesley. Grateful to the ex-Watcher for saving his brother and Childe, Angel had given his ex-employees their offices back at the Hyperion.

"Hard to say." Always cautious, Wesley didn't want to prematurely dismiss the dangerous vampire. "Angel and his Clan defeated most of Snow's army, but I'm thinking that he had safe-houses planted in different locations throughout many countries. A common strategy that any good. . .general would have."

"But the Council will hunt him down, won't they?" Cordelia asked, hoping for an answer that would bring closure to the problem of Elder Snow.

"They're making a small effort, but right now their attention is more focused on the Ventrues."

"Well, with any luck your Council will keep the Ventures busy, so they'll forget about us for the time being." Picking up a newspaper, Nic went and sat down on the lobby couch. "Give us a chance to get to Germany."

"So does that mean, you all will be leaving soon?" Sitting on the counter, playing an electronic video game, Gunn asked this hopefully. Wary of Angel ever since his behavior had become darker, he figured that the sooner the whole vampire clan left LA the better for everyone involved.

"We'll leave as soon as I know for sure that William is cured completely. Wesley. . . ." Addressing his ex-employee, Angel was still worrying about his youngest. "William needs another dose of medicine. He's still in pain. Do you have any more made up?"

"Actually. . .no." Slightly baffled, Wesley gave Angel a funny look. "What makes you think he's in need of more medication? When we examined him earlier, we found that his body was once again healing at a vampiric rate. So I did tests on his blood like you requested and found no trace of the poisons. I think he's recovering and. . . ."

"He's not right." Angel interrupted. "Your tests must have given a false reading. He's still ill. He's not eating, and he sleeps all the time."

"Angel, have you considered. . . ?" Wesley paused a moment, recalling Sunnydale. Remembering them all standing around in shock, staring at a very dead Slayer. "Have you considered that perhaps he's like this, not because of a physical problem, but an emotional one?"

"An emotional one!" Repeating Wesley's words with a growl, Angel stopped himself from grabbing the Englishman by the front of the shirt. "Just what are you saying?"

"He's saying. . . ." Never afraid to speak her mind, Cordelia jumped in to support Wesley.

"That Spike is depressed. And considering he's *your* son, that shouldn't surprise anyone."

"That's ridiculous!" Folding his arms across his chest, Angel dismissed Cordelia's words. "First of all, we were victorious. Why would he be depressed about that? And second of all, vampires do not suffer from depression."

"Uh huh." Skepticism evident in the young woman's voice. "From the vampire who's moped around for more than one hundred years now."

"Angel, back in Sunnydale, Spike was most certainly. . . ." Wesley searched for the right word, as he again remembered the scene where they had stood around the body of the dead Slayer.

In life Buffy had had an enormous physical presence, making one forget how tiny she really was. But in death, her smallness struck them all like a lash in the face. So slight. So delicate. So dead.

There had been some tears. Willow had cried. Dawn had cried. But most of them had just stood there, eyes dry, faces frozen. All except Spike. The supposedly soulless demon, his own body injured with bones and ribs broken, had sobbed uncontrollably, without shame. It was a sight that Wesley would never forget, sparking compassion and empathy for the vampire.

"He was certainly devastated by Buffy's death. Almost heartbroken."

"Okay Wesley, here's where I have to stop backing you up." Cordelia spoke up again. "Buffy and Spike hated each other. Why would her death devastate him? If anyone should be heartbroken, it should be. . . ." She looked pointedly at Angel.

"I believe Buffy and William had buried the hatchet. . .somewhat." Trailing off lamely, Angel was once again aware that he was ignorant of his Childer's thoughts and emotions.

"Did they perhaps have feelings for each other?" Wesley asked an innocent enough question, but it provoked an angry reaction from Angel.

Frustrated and humiliated because he once again was being reminded of what Giles had told him, 'you're totally ignorant of what your Childer are up to.' Growling, he turned around, kicking a chair, so it went sliding across the floor. "I DON'T FUCKING BELIEVE THIS! It's not possible! Not him too!"

The room's occupants eyed him warily. The three humans with doubts about his souled state watched him suspiciously. And Nic was apprehensive because he knew that souled, unsouled, or weaker soul, it didn't matter. Angel had a notoriously bad temper.

The tension was broken almost immediately as a newcomer entered the hotel through the front entrance.

"Am I happy to see you. You're still a knight for hire, right?" The Host addressed Angel. "Well, I'm hiring. I need you to kill something. I suppose you want the particulars, so here they are; it's called a Drokken."

"Drokken?" Wesley repeated the name, trying to remember if he had ever read anything about such a creature.

"Don't strain yourself." The Anagogic demon waved his hand dismissively. "You won't find it in your books. It's not from any world you've ever heard of."

"Lorne." Temper now under control, Angel appeared calm. "I can't help you now. I've got one Childe who has a death warrant out on him and another who won't get out of bed." Pausing a moment as a thought struck him. "Wait a minute, you can help. You can read my son's aura and find out what's bothering him."

"He's not depressed again?" The Host asked Angel which elicited a triumphant 'hah' from Cordelia. "Or is he still depressed? I swear, you and your family must have huge psychiatric bills. . .Anyway, I'll help you with your Childe, but first how about a little payment up front, in the form of killing a Drokken demon."

"If this demon is from another world, how did it get here?" Arms folded across his chest, Angel mentally went through the minions who were still left, deciding who he could spare and who would be competent enough to kill the Host's demon.

"Through a portal." Lorne answered which brought Wesley's head up sharply.

"Did you say a portal?"

"Yeah, right in the middle of my Stevie Wonder tune. Totally threw me off, and you know how I hate to disappoint an audience."

"And this happened. . . ." Wesley stared intently at the Host. "Last night, or the night before?"

"Last night. The night before. Who cares? It trashed my club, my clientele."

"Could be an after affect from Glory starting the ritual." Concerned, Wesley looked over at Angel. "Poked holes, or portals in the dimensional walls. We need to check this out."

"I can't leave my Childer, and I don't think that Nic here. . . ." Angel glanced at his brother. "Is in any shape to help kill a demon. I'll send a band of my most competent minions."

Wesley, Gunn, and Cordelia all exchanged looks. They were not thrilled about having a group of unknown vampires backing them up. "Perhaps. . . ." Wesley spoke quietly. "We should do this on our own."

"Ahh, not sure that's a good idea." Lorne interjected. "The Drokken is not a nice fellow. Bad, bad beast. Did I mention the teeth? Anyhoo, muscle is needed here, and the more the better."

"They'll have strict instructions from me that. . . ."

"I don't care if you tattoo the instructions on their foreheads." An untrusting Gunn interrupted Angel. "I'm not gonna be relying on some strange vamps to watch my back!"

At an impasse, the group stared at each other for some moments when suddenly Cordelia's head flashed with pain as a vision struck her. Standing next to her, Wesley grabbed her arm to steady her. "What are you seeing?"

"A woman. At the public library. I think she works there. She was reading a book. . .and there was an opening behind her. Something magical. . .a portal."

"There's our connection." Wesley still held Cordelia by her elbow. "We better get to the library." Scanning the other people, he silently asked for a solution they could all live with.

"Angelus." Rising up from the couch, Nic spoke up. "Why don't you go with them? They know you. I'll double the minions on guard here, and keep an eye on your Childer. You should be back by dawn, shouldn't you?"

"Do this for me, big guy." Lorne added his pleas. "And afterward, I promise you that I'll read your Childe forward and backward, and then, if necessary, help straighten him out like I did last December."

Hating to leave his Childer, Angel considered all the dangers. "Wesley, you did say that the Ventrues and the Council are locked in combat, so neither one of them would be in any position to come after us right?"

"Yes, that was the report that Giles just got from the Council today."

"And Snow's out of the picture." Angel ticked off another enemy. "Which only leaves some possible bounty hunters. And you. . . ." He turned to Nic. "And the minions could take any freelance demon hunters."

"You've made me your Childer's Sponsor. My duty is to protect them, and believe me when I say to you I *won't* let you down."

"I believe you." Angel rested a hand on his brother's shoulder a moment, as he started to follow the humans and the Host out of the hotel. "You haven't let me down yet. Take care of my Childer, and I'll be back as soon as I can."

**

Warming up a mug full of Angel's blood, Nic headed for his nephew's room. On the way, he bumped into Djoser. "Come help me feed your brother. He's not eating, so I'm determined to get this blood in him. If need be, you can pin him down, and I'll hold his nose and pour it down him."

"And my Sire?" Djoser asked as the two vampires entered into the bedroom.

"He went with the humans and some green thing with horns. Going to hunt and kill a. . .what the fuck did they call it. . .Drokken demon."

Sitting up at his Nic and Djoser's entrance, Spike heard the conversation. "Where'd my Sire go?" Even though talking to Angel about his fears and doubts was out of the question, he still wanted his Sire close by. His Father's presence was the only thing that gave him some comfort and reassurance.

"To help some green demon. Think his name is Lorne." Walking up to the bed, Nic held up the coffee mug. "Your Sire's blood. I want you to eat. Now, will you be a good boy and drink, or do we have to hold you down and. . . ?"

"Give it to me." Spike held his hand out. "And did my Sire say when he'll be back?"

"For sure before dawn. But one measly demon against Angelus, backed by commando Wesley and company, I'm guessing a couple of hours at most."

"Gonna get up then." Scooting out of the bed, the mug in Spike's hand jostled, spilling drops of blood on the sheets.

"Good!" Nic was happy to see his nephew at least awake for a short time. "But don't think you're going anywhere. Both of you. . . ." He gave Djoser a stern glare. "You're to stay here in the lair."

"Not going to go anywhere." Spike took a sip of blood to appease Nic. "Gonna take a shower and then wait for my Sire to come home."

"Well. . .good." Taken aback by his nephew's docility, Nic couldn't decide if this was a trick or a miracle. "About time you got up. . .and while you're at it, why don't you change the bed sheets you just slopped on?"

Ignoring his uncle's last suggestion, Spike jumped into the shower. Changing into clean clothes, he went down into the hotel lobby. Sitting on the couch, glass jar clutched against his chest, the youngest Blood-Childe of Angelus waited for his Father to come home.

****

Continue to Parts 35 to 37

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