Title: Bloodlines, The Continued Existence, Book 3
Author: P'al Kwai
My thanks to Elisabeth, who began helping me half way through Rebirth and has agreed to continue to beta for me, even though she's bogged down with school work this year.
Prologue
England, 1857
An easy parry, a countering thrust, and the vampire Ramose buried his sword in his opponent's shoulder.
"Ahh!" Staggering backward, Djoser gave a yelp of pain.
"You've been fighting like a weak human." Ramose gave his long time friend a questioning look. "You're giving me no challenge at all. What's wrong?" He asked, laying down his sword.
Throwing his weapon down, Djoser didn't answer as he put a hand up to stanch the blood flowing from his shoulder.
"Your mind is on our Sire's new Childe, isn't it?" The two vampires had grown up together as humans, were turned together, and had become inseparable as immortal companions. Thus it was never hard for one to know what the other was thinking.
"A short time ago, I felt a. . . ." Djoser groped for the words to describe the unusual feeling he had experienced. "A joining. The addition of another. And I knew that my Sire had turned the new Childe. I now have a brother."
"And that's a bad thing?" Ramose asked curiously.
"My Father loves this Childe." Feeling the blood flow start to ebb, Djoser pulled his hand away. Staring at his blood, he watched the red fluid drip to the ground. His blood was royal, traceable back to Caine, the Father of all vampires. "He continued a relationship with the Childe's mother even after she was impregnated. He was there for the human birth and would have even maintained the relationship with the human woman, except my uncles were becoming suspicious. He didn't want them to find out about his new Blood-Childe because, as you know, in our Clan before a Blood-Childe is turned, he has no protected status."
"And what? You're afraid that the new Childe will usurp your position as our Sire's heir?" Ramose asked. "Because I can't believe that this new Childe will be any threat to your position. His mother was a nobody, unlike yours, who was of noble birth. A Blood-Childe, yes, but half his blood is common, he'll not be exceptional like you."
"Perhaps, but my Sire has not stopped talking about this new Childe." Wound no longer bleeding, Djoser bent down to pick up the swords. "There was a time when he used to tell me how special I was but not anymore." Alone with Ramose, the vampire could lower his guard as he let the sadness he felt show on his face. "Now he's always occupied, rarely has time to give me any attention. And now with a fledgling Blood-Childe. . . ."
"Our Sire is a busy man with many responsibilities." Ramose made excuses for their Master. "He hopes to be named the Clan's Successor, so much of his time has to be spent serving the High Master, currying favor with ranking members of the Clan and keeping track of his rivals. If he is successful, and is named the Clan's Successor, then you'll be in line to one day become the High Master. He's still looking out for you and your future."
"Unless he decides to designate my new brother as heir over me." Carefully cleaning up and then wrapping the swords in oilcloths, Djoser said this with bitterness and embarrassment. It was humiliating to be having such petty feelings toward a brother he had never even met.
"I cannot think he would do such a thing." Ramose was adamant. "You, who were taught from human birth your heritage, your birthright. It is your destiny to one day become the High Master of the Tremere Clan. I will not believe otherwise!"
****
Part 1
California, October 2, 2001
Feet up on the dashboard, Spike pushed back with his legs. He wanted to see if he could get the car seat to go back further than it was suppose to.
"Must you?" Djoser looked over at him. "You're going to break it."
"I'm bored, mate." Spike lied, trying to cover up his nervousness. The closer they got to Sunnydale, the more his stomach turned. For some inexplicable reason, he was uneasy about returning there.
"Since we left Mexico I've talked non-stop to keep you amused, and you're still bored?" Djoser was disgusted. "I should have saved my breath."
"You're a vampire; you don't have any breath, ya git."
"What's bothering you now?" Reunited since Djoser had rescued Spike from Elder Snow, the older vampire was beginning to understand his brother's moods and attitudes. Rudeness and anger were usually a cover up for anxiety and worry.
Squirming in his seat, Spike couldn't escape Djoser's perceptive stare. It unsettled him. "Just not exactly stoked about returning to Sunnyhell. Bad stuff always happens there."
"We won't stay long." Djoser reassured Spike. "Just need to speak to the Watcher, and. . . ." He broke off as the outskirts of Sunnydale came into view.
"What the hell?" Spike stuck his head out the side window, as if that would give him a better view. The town was in ruins. Cars on fire in the streets. Buildings and houses with their windows and doors busted out. "Hey, slow down a bit. Wanna see what the fuck is going on." Knees on the seat, half his body was now out the window. "Jesus Christ has this town gone to shit. Good thing we don't live here anymore, cause all the property values here just took a piss."
Pulling over, Djoser stopped the car and got out. From a distance his superior, vampiric eyesight allowed him to make out the demons who were destroying and looting the town. "Hellions. Road pirates." He commented to his brother.
"Yeah." Spike too got out of the car and sat himself down on the hood. "Guess they figured out that the Slayer's gone."
Watching the devastation, Spike could help but grin. Mass destruction was always fun. "Hey Djoser, there's no one around to tell us to behave ourselves. How 'bout we join the evening's festivities? It's been too long since I've caused some bloody mayhem." The last sentence was said softly to himself. Turning, he saw Djoser's look of revulsion. Heaving a sigh, he knew his brother would need more convincing. "Stop being so high and mighty. You're not a Prince anymore, remember?"
"But to associate with Hellions!" Djoser couldn't imagine anything more debasing. "They're a bunch of low life demons who. . . ."
"And we're just two Caitiff vampires." Spike interrupted him. "Sharing a bottom rung with them on the demon social ladder. "Turning back to watch the Hellions, he lit a cigarette. "Without a clan, we're nonentities. Hell, if we both died tonight, no one would even notice."
"I lived before as a Caitiff vampire, when our Sire abandoned us. But that didn't mean I lowered myself to. . .to the likes of *them* ." Djoser spat out with disgust as he watched the Hellions.
"You're such a Poof. Just like Him." Without turning his head, Spike peered sideways at Djoser to see how his brother took the insult.
The older vampire swallowed hard at the comparison. In the past, he had reveled in the similarities he shared with Angel, but now the thought of being anything like his Sire brought bile up his throat.
Taking a small step toward the marauding demons, Djoser tried to make himself go toward them, but his body would not obey. "I've killed Hellions for the simple reason that their appearance and ignorance offended me." A quick determination and the vampire decided that being a Poof was better than associating with demon scum. "We should just stick to our business. The Watcher might not be willing to help us if we take part. . . ."
He motioned toward the bedlam. "In this."
"Okay, Poof Junior." Sighing again, Spike jumped off the car. It never failed to amaze him how so many of his family members could be such killjoys.
**
Trying to keep in the shadows, a frightened Dawn was attempting to make her way to The Magic Box. When the demons had begun wreaking havoc on the neighborhood, she had instinctively taken flight, instead of hiding safely in her basement.
Peering around the corner, she saw a large group of demons blocking her path. Cornered, panic filled her, and the impulse to run overcame her good sense. Taking off, she looked for an escape. But there was no escape, and the Hellions were certainly not going to overlook a young, fleeing girl.
Dawn's flight was halted in the middle of the street, as groups of the demons advanced on her from all directions. Voice filled with pure terror, she screamed for Willow, Xander, Tara, anyone to come help her.
**
Unafraid of the road pirate demons, the vampires were driving through town trying to make their way to The Magic Box and Giles. Spike, always up for a challenge, wanted to see if they could drive through the entire town right under the Hellions' noses. And Djoser, so contemptuous of the inferior demons, continued to follow his original purpose for coming to Sunnydale. To do anything else would be to admit fear of them, and he'd rather fall on a stake than have anyone think he was afraid of Hellions.
Driving slowly, one hand on the wheel, the other armed with a 9mm beretta, which had been found at Nic's lair, Djoser calmly and coolly shot any Hellion who came too close to the car. Spike, again hanging out the window, was armed with a double-barreled shot gun, also found at the roadhouse in Mexico. Shooting at any demon that moved, he used the Hellions for target practice.
"Think we've got enough ammo to waste all of these Wankers?" Spike paused a moment to reload.
"Maybe." Djoser shrugged his shoulders. "If not, we've got a couple of good swords. We can start taking their heads."
"Don't know why I was feeling so grippy 'bout coming here." Eyes shining with excitement, Spike was enjoying himself. "The last time I had this much fun was. . .was. . . ." He couldn't remember the last time he had some *real* entertainment. "Hey. . . ."A slender figure of a young woman in the middle of the street caught his eye. "That's Bit! What the bloody hell is she doing out alone in the middle of a Hellion raid? Has Giles lost what little mind he had, leaving her out by herself?"
Seeing Dawn in danger, Djoser remembered his words to Buffy, 'I'll protect her against anyone who tries to harm her.' "Hang on." He yelled over to Spike as he stepped on the gas. "I'm going to head right for them. Get ready to grab her."
"I hear ya." Spike dropped the shotgun on the car seat, freeing both of his hands.
Voice hoarse from screaming, Dawn could only whimper as the circle of demons closed in upon her. She whispered a plea, "please, please don't hurt me," when the sound and the sight of a car caught both her and the Hellions' attention. Before any of them could react, Djoser plowed into the demons, taking out five of them.
"Come on pigeon, time to fly." Using his legs to brace himself, Spike leaned out of the car grabbing Dawn around the waist. "GO!" He ordered his brother.
Djoser didn't waste any time, tires squealed, engine roared as the vampires made their escape. Still hanging outside of the car, Dawn clung onto Spike for dear life, silently praying.
Wrapping his arms tighter around the young girl, Spike whispered reassuringly in her ear. "Don't worry, luv. I'm not going to let you down this time."
Making a sharp turn into an alley, Djoser brought the car to a screeching halt. "Quick, get the girl in the car." He ordered his brother who had already begun pulling Dawn through the window. She was barely inside when the car took off again, slamming both her and Spike down into the front seat.
"Uff!" Spike grunted, as Dawn landed hard on top of him. "You don't weigh much, but you sure got some sharp elbows." Giving the teenager a helpful shove, he aided her scramble into the back seat. "Head down." He instructed, grabbing the shotgun. Swinging himself out the car window again, he took aim at the pursing Hellions. "Time for some more target practice."
"Just shoot the closest ones." Djoser advised him. "Because they're not going to be keeping up." Accelerating, he made a sharp turn, causing Spike to quickly grab onto car roof, so he wouldn't get thrown out.
Flying down the street at an impossibly fast speed, Spike had to sit back down or lose his balance and fall out of the car. "Who taught you how to drive? Couldn't have been the Poo. . .Him because he drives like someone's grandma."
A quick glare behind him and Djoser was satisfied. "I think we lost them for now." Slowing the car down, he noted where they were. "But unfortunately the magic shop is in the opposite direction."
"Maybe we can go to the Slayer's. . . ." Spike threw a quick, apologetic look at Dawn. "Niblet's house and ring Giles from there."
"Giles?" Feeling the car decelerate, Dawn cautiously raised her head. "Giles isn't here any more. He just left for England."
"England!" Spike twisted around in his seat so he could face the teenager in the back. "Wot, did the old coot have some bloody, boring Watcher's conferences to go to?"
"No." Dawn shook her head as she carefully sat back in the car's seat. "He went back there to live. Without Buffy. . .the Slayer, he had no reason to stay here anymore."
"No reason!" Spike was outraged. "What about you? No wonder you were out alone. Fucking Giles!" Livid, he turned back to look out the car window, unable to even speak for a moment. "All those times Giles and. . .and Him were supposedly strategizing. In reality, He was giving that pissant Rupert tips on how to abandon your love ones. What a couple of Poofs!"
"But Giles isn't responsible for me!" Dawn protested. "And I'm not abandoned. Willow and Tara are. . . ."
"Right, he leaves you with those two airheads. They don't have an ounce of good sense between the two of them." Spike said this with disgust. "Hey. . . ." A thought occurred to him. "Why don't we take Bit?" He asked his brother. "We can take care of her." A solution for the guilt ridden vampire. It would be atonement for failing to save Dawn from Glory, for failing to keep his promise to Buffy.
Djoser swallowed hard, fighting the inclination to call his brother a total moron for coming up with such a lame idea. "The two of us! Two men who are not family, taking an underage teenager with them to live. We'll have every law enforcement officer in the country knocking on our door."
"Oh. . . ." Slouching in his seat, Spike couldn't argue with his brother's reasoning. The last thing they needed was problems with human law officers. "But we can't just leave her. We made a promise to the Slayer, you know. We promised to help protect her little. . . ."
"Stop!" A panicked shout, as Dawn interrupted. "Stop the car."
Stepping on the brake hard, Djoser quickly looked around. No Hellions. No humans. No one. Spike too made a quick survey and not seeing anyone was puzzled. "What's up? There's no one here."
"There! There she is." Opening the car door, Dawn slipped out before either of the vampires could stop her.
"Dawn!" Pulling on the car door handle, it took a second for Spike to remember that it was locked. Finally getting the door open, he half fell out of the car in his rush to go after her. "Dawn! You stupid twit. . .what the hell do you think you're. . . ." Catching up with the teenager, the words died in his mouth as he looked down at what she had found, the head and torso of the Slayer. "Bloody hell! It's. . . ."
"Just a machine, Spike." Kneeling down beside what was left of the Buffybot, Dawn felt her eyes tear up. She knew it to be nothing more than a robot, but it was the last link she had with her sister.
"What do the two of you think you're doing?" Coming up behind them, Djoser was angry. "The Hellions are just around the corner, we need to. . . ." Breaking off, the usual stoic vampire couldn't keep the shock off his face. "What the hell is that?"
"It's the Buffybot." Dawn explained to the two vampires. "Willow made her with the help of Warren, an ex-classmate of hers. We've used her so that people and demons wouldn't know that Buffy, The Slayer was dead."
The two vampires exchanged astonished looks. "Bloody witch has got some bollocks." Spike commented as he looked around and noticed Buffybot parts lying a short distance away. Nudging Djoser, he gestured toward them. "Think there's some legs over there."
Walking with his brother to retrieve Buffybot pieces, Djoser was trying to remember who Willow was. "Which one was Willow?" He had seen all the Scoobies, but being uninterested in 'insignificant humans,' had not paid attention to who was who.
"The red head." Spike answered, picking up a broken off leg. "Tsk. Look what those filthy buggers did. Don't think Willow can put this humpty dumpty back together again."
**
Still teary eyed, Dawn was not paying attention to what Spike and Djoser were doing. She reached with a gentle hand to close the Buffybot's eyes, when the robot's head suddenly turned and spoke to her.
"You're my sister Dawn."
Dawn smiled through her tears. Despite having the appearance of Buffy, the bot had always talked and acted with the innocence and ignorance of a young child.
The Buffybot looked around in confusion. "Where did I go?"
Now Dawn was also confused. "What?"
"Where did I go? I was here. Here. But then I ran away."
Straightening up slightly, Dawn tried to understand why the Buffybot was saying
she ran away, when she was lying here in pieces. "I-I don't. . . ."
"No. Not me. The other Buffy."
Eyes widening in shock, Dawn could feel her breath catch in her throat.
"Yes. The other Buffy." The bot continued.
"Buffy?" Dawn whispered.
"I don't ... I don't ... know where she ran off to. Maybe. . . ." Freezing up, its power now totally drained, the Buffybot stared blankly, never finishing its thought.
Standing up, her mind a whirl of shock, confusion, and hope, Dawn gave one last look at the lifeless Buffybot before turning and running.
**
"That red head girl built a robot that could act and fight like the real Slayer?" Djoser was still trying to comprehend that a human, who he had dismissed as a nobody, could have accomplished such a deed.
"Yeah, pretty resourceful, that Willow." Picking up the second bot leg, Spike turned to yell over to Dawn. "Gonna gather up all the pieces and see. . . ." Breaking off, he noticed the teenager was gone. "Hey." The two vampires looked around in alarm. "Little Bit? Dawn!"
Grabbing Spike by the duster, Djoser pulled him toward their vehicle. "We'll track her from the car. She couldn't have gotten far."
**
Head again hanging out the car window, Spike sniffed the air, hoping to catch the scent of Dawn. "Can't smell a sodding thing over the petrol stench from those bloody Hellions burning the town down."
"Any signs of more Hellions?" Djoser asked as he looked down briefly at the beretta between his legs.
"Don't see any of them either." Spike's eyes swept over the wrecked and burning cars and buildings. Falling back in the car seat, he let out a frustrated sigh. "It's been almost an hour. How in the hell can one twit of a girl stay hidden from two vampires?"
"This is rather humiliating." Djoser admitted. "You better not tell anyone about this. I'll never live it down that I couldn't track one fledgling, human female."
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, she's really not human." Spike consoled him. "Just tell everyone that you couldn't track one big ball of energy."
"Here's her house." Djoser pulled up to the Summer's residence. "Maybe she ran back here."
"She better be here!" Spike threw himself out of the car angrily and stomped up the front steps of the Summer's house. "And if she is, I'm going to kill her. DAWN!" He shouted as he flung open the front door with a bang. "Dawn, are you here?"
A moment passed before a voice called down from upstairs. "I'm here, Spike."
Relief flowing through him, the vampire continued to yell up the stairs. "Thank God. You scared me half to death. . .or more to death. You. . .I could kill you." Continuing to rant, he was not paying attention as Dawn came into view at the head of the stairs accompanied by another person. "I mean it. I could rip your head off one-handed and drink from your brain stem."
"Spike. . .Djoser." Dawn said this softly as she took her sister by the hand and led her down the stairs. "Look."
So focused on Dawn's stupidity, Spike didn't notice the human smell coming from Buffy. "Yeah? Another bloody bot. So Willow made two, did she? Wanted to have an extra for the times when something happened. . . ." His brother's hard grip squeezing his shoulder stopped his angry tirade, making him look closer at what he thought to be another Buffybot.
"It's not a robot, Will." Djoser released his grasp on Spike and took a step closer to Buffy. "It's her. It's the Slayer, alive again!"
****
Part 2
Mexico, April 2001
"Para curar su hijo, hay que darle su sangre." The Mexican Curandero made his diagnosis.
Shirt off, sitting on a make shift table, Spike was one unhappy vampire after reluctantly allowing himself be poked and prodded by the Mexican Shaman. "What the bloody hell did he just say?" He asked Djoser angrily. "SPEAK ENGLISH. . .ya pillock." Now addressing the Shaman, the vampire's voice rose a couple decibels.
"He doesn't speak nor understand English, so shouting at him won't help." Djoser tried to sooth his brother. "But he says that you need to have my blood."
"Why would he say your blood. . .oh because we told him you're my Sire, so we wouldn't have a repeat of what happened with that uppity, poncy healer in LA." Sighing, Spike grabbed his tee shirt and pulled it on over his head. "So the cure is Sire's blood. Like I haven't heard that a million times before."
"Gracias, Senor." Handing the Shaman a couple of bills, Djoser then turned to Spike. "You, ok?" He asked, watching his brother who was slowly shrugging into his duster.
"I'll survive. Just having a bad day today." Letting his brother support him, Spike cautiously made his way out the door.
"So some days are good and some are bad? I wonder. . . ?" Djoser was thoughtful as the two vampires walked to their car.
"You're *not* thinking about looking for another Shaman, are you?" Reaching the car, Spike leaned up against it, waiting for his brother to open the car door for him. "A waste of time and money. They all say the same bloody thing." Speaking in a falsetto voice, he pretended to be a healer. "You need your Sire; you need his blood." Pausing a moment, his face twisted into a dark scowl. "Frigging idiots! I hate them. I hate our Si. . .Him. Hate everybody." Voice now sullen as he fell into the front seat of the car.
"Our Sire's blood is not possible, but. . . ." Getting into the driver's seat, Djoser turned to Spike. "I wonder if my blood would help you?"
**
Sunnydale, October, 2001
"Home, sweet home." Muttering this, Spike entered the dark, dank crypt, followed by his brother.
Stopping just inside the doorway, Djoser looked around his new home. A wave of depression hit him as memories of a time long ago flashed before him. A time when he had been a favorite of the powerful High Master Heinrich Nest and had lived in luxury and comfort. How far he had fallen.
"William." Djoser found that his feet had a mind of their own as they refused to move. Neither he nor any part of his body wanted to enter the mausoleum. "This place is a. . . ." Looking around, words failed him. Never in his life or unlife had he lived in such a dump. "We could go and stay at the mansion. Since it hasn't been that long, I'm sure the demons here still remember that it's the property of Ange. . . ."
"Don't say his fucking name!" Whirling around, Spike shouted this at his brother. "Don't ever say his name again. We agreed, remember? We're nothing to him, so He's nothing to us."
A heavy silence hung between the two as Djoser stared at Spike, surprised at his emotional outburst. It had been six months since they had run away from Angel, and the vampire had thought that his younger brother had made peace with the fact that their indifferent Father was never going to change. "Our Sire *is* nothing to us now, but that doesn't mean we can't. . . ."
"He never even tried to find us, did He?" Despite the lump in his throat, Spike managed to ask the question. The question that had been gnawing at him since they had left the abandoned roadhouse in Mexico. "All it would have taken was for him to have issued a 'bounty' on us. But not one demon came looking for us. You were right; he probably still doesn't even realize we're gone."
"Will?" Voice curious. "How many times were you betrayed by Him? Why is this such a surprise to you?"
"Don't know." Shrugging his shoulders, Spike looked down at the dirt floor of the crypt, toeing the ground with the tip of his boot. "It's just that he told me how remorseful he was and promised. . .promised that this time was going to be different." The last part was a whisper as he blinked back his tears.
"I'm sorry." The words were inadequate, but Djoser didn't know what else to say.
Straightening his shoulders, Spike took control of himself. He wasn't going to cry like a nancy boy for his Poof of a Sire. "I'm *not* going to the mansion. The mansion was His lair, and I will not stay anyplace that He called home."
Djoser momentarily studied his depressing surroundings again and then sighed in resignation. Dropping the duffel bag in his hand, he turned to go back to the car. "I'll go and get your television. Is there electricity here, so you can watch it?"
"Djoser." Spike called out, stopping his brother's exit for a moment. "I'm sorry too. Sorry that you have to live in a place like this. Me. . . ." He looked around the crypt. "I've lived most of my existence in places like this and worse, so I'm used to it. As a human, I lived in the streets until. . .until He came and claimed me. After He abandoned us, Dru and I wandered around, living wherever we could. Every so often we got lucky and found a half way decent place to live, but it never lasted long. Sooner or later we'd get tossed out, or the place would burn down or something."
Djoser's face remained impassive, but the emotions in him raged hotly. Opening the door of the crypt to fetch the rest of their things, the resentment he felt toward Angel was rapidly turning to hate. Hatred toward a father who had never done right by his Childer.
**
Los Angeles, Oct 2001
Standing on the roof of the Hyperion, Darla looked down at the lights of LA. Her hand cradled her now very pregnant stomach.
"You always did love a view." Angel approached her quietly.
"Look at it. Listen to it. Can you smell it? This world. This horrible world. I've brought three Childer into it, and two are now dead. Perhaps it was a mistake to have. . . ." The vampiress looked down at her stomach. "Another one."
"Another Childe, another Pure Blood-Childe only enhances your status. Isn't that what you wanted?" Stopping a few feet from Darla, Angel too looked out over the city.
"I thought it was but not anymore." Turning away, the vampiress had come to an awakening. Things were not the same as they had been when the Old Master had lived. Her dreams of power, of once again commanding the Tremeren Clan, had just been an illusion. Their Clan was all but dead, and their High Master, her favorite Childe, Angelus didn't care. The Ventrues had all but taken over the other vampire clans. Judelin, the Venture's High Master, had asserted his power. Your choice was to subjugate yourself to him or be destroyed.
"His only destiny is to serve the Ventrues or be killed." She said with bitterness. "And you, his Sire, the High Master of our Clan, don't care. You've done nothing to try and oppose Judelin. To try and limit his. . . ."
"What would you have me do?" An equally bitter Angel asked her. "I have one minion. My Childer, my brothers. . . ." He closed his eyes. "Are all dead. And I would join them, except. . . ."
"Except what?" Darla whirled around to face him. "Except you feel responsible for me and. . .and. . . ." She caressed her stomach. "Well, don't do him or me any favors!"
"Darla." Angel whispered holding out his hands. She was the only family he had now. "I was not a good father to Djoser and William. This time I'm going to do it right. We're going to do it right. He's the future of our Bloodline. He's our only hope now."
"Why do I have the feeling that the only future this Childe is going to have is an ugly death?" Tears running down her cheeks, the vampiress allowed Angel to pull her into his arms.
"We're all that's left." Resting his chin on top of Darla's head, Angel whispered. "We have to stick together."
**
"Poked my head in the magic shop today." Spike informed Djoser as the two vampires made up their newly purchased bed. "The Slayer was there with all her super friends, exchanging a special moment. Made me queasy. But afterward the Slayer came out, and we talked a moment. She's not doing so well."
"Still recovering from the hell dimension?" Tucking the sheets between the mattress and box spring, Djoser looked up at his brother.
"That's just it. She wasn't in any hell dimension. Said she was in heaven and now is depressed because she was torn out of there. Torn out by her mates, no less." Spike looked with satisfaction at the freshly made bed. "Makes the place seem more homey." He commented. "Although, I always thought you were some nomadic warrior who didn't need comforts like a bed. . . ." Turning his head to look at their other new purchase. "Or a refrigerator."
"It's bad enough that we're two vampires living in a crypt." Gazing around his new home, Djoser was satisfied. The mausoleum was still a dump, but with the addition of a bed, refrigerator, and a few chairs, it was at least a more civilized dump. "But to also sleep in a sarcophagus! We'd be the stereotypical vampires. All the other demons would start doing their Bela Lugosi impressions whenever we showed up."
"And then we'd have to kill them." Spike agreed. "It would get rather old." Staring at his brother a moment, he did have to say. "You seem to care too much what other demons think. And I'm surprised you know who Bela Lugosi is."
"There isn't a vampire on this earth who doesn't know who Bela Lugosi is. And if that man were still alive, we'd all be fighting over who got to torture him. It's all his fault that people think we vampires sleep in coffins, wear long, black capes, and have weird looking eyes."
"Not sure you should blame Bela for that." Spike was thoughtful as he followed Djoser out of the bedroom area of the crypt. "I think he was just modeling himself after old Drac."
"Old Drac?" Djoser stopped and turned to look at his brother. "What do you know about Dracula?"
"Met the old man in England. And the poncy bugger still owes me eleven pounds. . .but if you think that Ventrue Poof or. . .or. . . ." Scowling, Spike stopped himself from uttering Angel's name. "Him were drama queens, you should have seen old Drac. Had his act nailed down to perfection." He waved his hands theatrically and opened his eyes wide in imitation of Count Dracula. "Used an old gypsy scam to make people think he had special, hypnotic powers."
Djoser couldn't help but grin. "So the Count really knew how to ham it up?"
Spike snorted. "That man should have been given an Oscar."
Still smiling, Djoser went over to the refrigerator. Taking out a bag of blood, he opened it with his teeth and began gulping down his meal.
Closing his eyes, Spike could feel his stomach roll. "Must you do that in front of me? I can't believe that you drink blood that's cold and congealed. Gonna make me heave. Ugh!" Eyes still closed, he fell down into a chair, shuddering. "We should have bought a microwave when we were out shopping. In fact, maybe we still should." One eye cautiously opened, hoping that his brother had finished his dinner.
"Can't." Djoser threw the empty blood bag into a wastebasket. "Our money has run out."
"It's gone!" Spike sat up straight in his chair. "All of it?"
"I've got a couple of bills left, but that's it." Djoser walked over to where their weapons were stashed. Cocking the beretta, he checked to make sure the chamber held a bullet.
"So we spent it all? But we found over a thousand dollars in our uncle's lair. Where the hell did it go?" Spike had never been good with money or finances.
"Gasoline, motel rooms, blood, bullets, and cigarettes and booze for you." Djoser told him matter-of-factly while shrugging into his black tunic.
"I've only been buying cheap booze, and I bought a stash of cigarettes in Mexico to save money. So you can't say I haven't been doing my part in trying to conserve some of our coin." Spike immediately became defensive. "So where are you going then?" Cocking his head, he gave Djoser an inquiring look. "Gonna go and look for a couple of posh gits to mug? Get us some more cash flow?"
"No, I'm going to see the Slayer."
"The Slayer? She never has much. . . ." Before Spike finished his sentence, the realization washed over him that his brother was looking for any kind of excuse to see Buffy. He couldn't help the satisfied smile that crossed his face. "Yeah mate, ask her if there are some jobs or some information we can get for her. She'll pay, you know. Not much, but something is better than nothing."
"All right." Djoser stared warily at Spike. "Do you want anything to eat before I go?" He asked holding up his wrist.
"Nah. Watching you eat took my appetite away."
Lowering his arm Djoser was half-worried, half-suspicious. He didn't much like the pleased smile plastered on his brother's face. "I do have some important business to discuss with the Slayer. As you know, the Ventrues have been gaining more and more power. If she is willing, perhaps a deal can be made. If the three of us ally, perhaps we can at least keep them out of Sunnydale."
"Sounds like a plan." Leaning back in his chair, Spike pulled out a cigarette. "But I thought we were just going to stay here until we located our uncle."
"We can still do that. In fact, if you feel up to it, why don't you go over and check out some of the demon bars. See if anyone has heard anything about Damon?"
"Gotcha. I'll look for information on Damon, and you'll go see the Slayer." Cigarette in his mouth, Spike stood up, patting down his Jean's pockets, looking for his lighter. "If I'm going to hit the streets, I'll need a few quid."
Frowning, Djoser pulled out his wallet. All that was left were two fifty-dollar bills. "Here." He handed Spike one of them. "It's half of what we've got. I'm not going to give you anymore, so spend it wisely."
Taking the money, Spike grinned sweetly at his brother. "I'm planning to double this." He said waving the bill in the air. "What are you planning to do with yours?"
**
It took the warrior vampire less than an hour to track down Buffy. After checking The Magic Box, Djoser found her in the second place he looked, The Bronze. "I need to talk to you Slayer." He said while taking the seat next to her.
Still depressed and disoriented, Buffy was in no mood to make small talk with a vampire. She also knew that Spike was incapable of keeping his mouth shut and had no doubt told Djoser about their conversation earlier. A conversation that she now regretted. "Listen, I heard how you and Spike saved Dawn from the Hellions. I'm grateful, and I told Spike that. But I think it's best if both you and Spike go back to LA."
"Can't, Slayer." Signaling for a drink, Djoser was not intimidated by Buffy's attitude. "LA is off-limits to us now."
"Oh, God!" Head falling down on the bar, Buffy knew she didn't want to hear the rest of what the vampire had to say.
"We've run away from out Sire, and. . . ."
"I don't want to hear this." She interrupted Djoser. "I already feel like I'm back in hell. Getting involved in your family issues would make the transformation complete. Please, just pack up your things and leave Sunnydale."
"He's reconciled with Darla. They're expecting a baby." Djoser continued like he hadn't heard anything Buffy had said. "Darla will bear the first Pure Blood vampire since my uncle Anton was. . . ."
"Angel? Angel's having a baby with Darla?" Images of her first love happily setting up housekeeping with the vampiress flashed through Buffy's head, making her feel even more depressed. She now knew with certainty that living on earth was in reality, living in a hell dimension.
"After the Council's and Snow's attempt to eradicate the Bloodline vampires, the birth of a Pure Blood is a sign to our people that the Bloodline cannot be wiped out. That it is still strong and will continue to rule."
"O-kay." Despite herself, Buffy couldn't help but be interested in what Djoser was saying. Sitting up, she faced the vampire. "That's very fascinating, but what does that have to do with me?"
"The Bloodline vampires have reasserted themselves. It's common knowledge that Judelin, the Ventrue High Master, has all but taken over your Council. After this Pure Blood is born, my Sire and Darla will also be given more status by all of our people. They will have power. Between them and Judelin. . . ." Djoser trailed off, watching Buffy closely as she processed the information.
"So we might have one consolidated vampire force that will want to. . .oh, god, not again!" She whispered, turning her head away. "And I'm the one who will have to stop them."
"My brother and I will help you." Djoser told her as he pulled out his last fifty to hand to the bartender. "You need to call your Watcher and tell him to return here. If he can help us track down my uncle, then perhaps. . . ."
"If the Bloodline vampires are taking back their power and uniting to take over the world, why would you and Spike help prevent this? Both of you are Bloodline vamps. You'd be. . . ."
"Not with Darla." Taking a sip of his drink, Djoser continued to stare straight ahead. He didn't look Buffy in the face. "That's why we had to leave LA. Darla doesn't want to share any of the power with my brother or myself. She wants it for herself and her new Childe. And to make sure of that, she's plotting to eliminate us."
"Eliminate you?" Buffy was puzzled. "And Angel? You're his Childer too. How can he allow this?"
"My Sire has always cared more for Darla than he has us."
Djoser said this flatly. No emotion sounded in his voice, but even so, something touched Buffy's heart, and she forgot about her own problems for the moment.
"Idiot fathers! My dad isn't much better. Too busy frolicking on some beach to. . . . " Sighing, she gave herself a mental shake. Her father was not going to change. "Giles has already been called and is on his way back now. When he gets here, I'll tell him everything you told me, and then we can discuss this some more. In the meantime, you and Spike can stay here in Sunnydale, but there will be *no* killing of humans. In fact, both of you can help with patrol. I'm not too proud to admit that I could use some assistance now."
"Deal Slayer." Djoser finally turned his head to look at her, eyes dark and unreadable. "But do you think that part of this deal could include some monetary payment? I'm down to my last dollar here." He motioned to his change, which was lying on the bar.
"Money?" Buffy made a face. "Anya was telling me earlier that my financial situation is on the critical list. So what do you know about finances?"
**
Arriving at the nearest demon bar, the first order of business for Spike was to buy himself something to drink. "One bottle of your finest, cheapest whiskey." He told the demon bartender, slamming down the fifty-dollar bill. "Any action tonight?"
"Back room." The demon nodded his head toward a door on the other side of the bar, while taking Spike's money.
"Ok, pigeons, be prepared to donate to William's charity." Spike said this softly to himself, while taking a swig from the bottle. "Oh. . . ." He turned back to the bartender. "Almost forgot. You have any info on a master vampire named Damon?"
"Never heard of him." The demon lied.
"Alright. . . ." Anxious to fleece some demons in poker, Spike didn't want to belabor the issue. "But if you hear anything about this Damon, make sure you pass the word to me." Comprehension dawned on him that a bribe would now be in order, but the money he had left was just enough for a couple of hands of poker. "I'll. . .I'll make it worth your while."
"Uh huh." Disbelief and disdain was evident in the demon's voice.
"Listen mate." Spike leaned closer to the bartender. "You don't know with whom you're dealing with here. I'm William, Blood. . . ." He broke off, angry with himself as he realized that he had just about been ready to use his birthright and his Sire's name to intimidate the demon into helping him. "Never mind, I'll talk to you later about this."
Walking away, Spike decided that after he had won some money in poker, he'd go back and have another 'chat' with the bartender. "And if that bloody bastard needs some convincing, I should have an empty bottle by then." A satisfied grin as he held up the whiskey bottle, imagining, once it was empty, breaking it over the demon's head.
****
Part 3
Mexico, April 2001
"You feel well enough to continue our search? There's enough night left to check another bar." Tilting his chair back on two legs, Djoser eyed Spike from across the small tavern table.
"I'm feeling better." Raising the bottle up to his mouth, Spike downed the last of his beer. "Think your blood did the trick. Maybe I should start calling you Sire." An affectionate grin lit up the vampire's serious countenance. Since their departure from LA, he had had little reason to smile.
"You can call me Sire and kiss my hand." Djoser said in mock seriousness as he stood up, throwing a couple of bills on the table.
"Yeah, right." Grabbing the half finished beer that his brother had left, Spike snorted in scorn. "Don't even remember the last time I kissed. . .*His* hand. So don't get your hopes up." Standing, he began to follow Djoser to the exit. "So after we check every pub in Mexico for Nic, then what?"
"He's just lying low somewhere." Turning his head to look at Spike, Djoser was adamant. "We'll find him."
"Whatever you say." Spike was not as certain as Djoser that Nic was alive and hiding out nearby, but it didn't matter. His mind was made up; he would follow his brother anywhere, including hell. Tipping his head back so he could finish the beer in his hand, he wasn't paying attention and walked right into a Temhek demon.
Eight hours of drinking had put the Temhek demon in a foul mood. Inebriated and bad tempered, he pulled out a knife without thinking, nor noticing, that the two vampires standing before him had the marks of Blood-Childer. "Vampire, you will pay for your transgression."
"My fault, mate." Raising both hands up in a fake surrender, Spike, for once, used his head, as he tried to avoid a fight. A bar brawl was not what they needed now. "Wasn't watching where I was going."
To drunk to listen to an apology, the Temhek demon only snarled in anger. "You will learn to for the future."
Lunging knife first, the demon caught Spike by surprise, who had assumed that his show of submission would appease and prevent an attack. Crucial seconds lost because of being unprepared, he couldn't step out of the way in time. Reacting instinctively, he lowered a hand to defend himself against the oncoming knife. The blade did not hit its intended target, Spike's chest, but instead slid through the flesh and cartilage of his left hand.
Yelling in agony, Spike dropped the beer bottle he had been holding, but before he could counter attack, Djoser stepped in, grabbing the demon by the head. A swift and brutal twist of his powerful hands, and he snapped the neck clean.
Bent over in pain, Spike pulled the knife out of his hand. "Fucking Temhek!" He swore at the now dead demon, while giving the body a kick. "Wish you were still alive, so I could *rekill* you!" Another kick, while stabbing the bloody knife into the corpse's head, he continued to rant at the body. "Made me drop my beer too, ya bleeding nonce."
"William." Djoser spoke to his brother, trying to calm him, as he bent down and tore away part of the Temhek's shirt. "Let's get out of here. We've attracted enough attention." Every pair and set of eyes were focused on them, including a group of the Temhek's friends.
"Vampires." Another Temhek demon stepped over to them, backed up by six of his friends. "I see that you are marked Blood-Childer. But what I do not understand is why you are here without your Sire, or at least bodyguards. But no matter, I'm sure that your Sire and Clan will pay dearly to get you back. And we'll just call it. . .compensation. Compensation for the murder of a valuable ally of ours."
"Compensation?" Kneeling down, Djoser carefully wrapped the strip of the Temhek's shirt around Spike's injured hand. "You DARE to demand compensation from us, Blood-Childer of Angelus, Scourge of Europe and High Master of The Tremeren Clan?" Standing, the warrior vampire turned to face the demon. Dark eyes flashed with anger as he glared contemptuously at the Temheks. "After my Sire hears how one of yours attacked my brother, the only payment you'll be receiving is his vengeance."
Hearing the name Angelus, Scourge of Europe, the group of Temheks exchanged uneasy looks while taking a few steps away from the vampires. Muttering among themselves, they all knew the name Angelus.
"Come, William." Grabbing Spike's arm, Djoser took advantage of the demons' reaction to his bluff. "It's time to leave." Eyes never leaving the Temheks, he measured his step, trying to mask his anxiousness to depart.
"Fucking Temheks!" Hand burning with pain, Spike turned his head to yell more threats at the demons. It made him feel slightly better to give them more to worry about. "*He'll* have all your heads. *He'll*. . . ."
"William." Djoser hissed under his breath, as he pulled Spike out the front entrance. "Don't overdo it." Hustling his brother into the car, he threw himself into the driver's seat. Gunning the engine, he sped off, hoping the Temheks had been sufficiently intimidated by the name 'Angelus.'
Bloody hand resting in his lap, Spike stared out the car window. Tears of rage and humiliation slid down his face. Rage against the Temkeks, and rage against the man whose name he refused to say out loud. They were no longer His. They were nothing to Him, and He was nothing to them, but it was His name that they still had to use. . .use to save themselves from other demons.
**
Wrapping his arms tighter around Spike, Djoser found he had to use all of his considerable strength to hold his brother down. Feverish, the younger vampire was thrashing around with a violence that had already broken two of the motel lamps.
"William." The dark vampire whispered. "It's me Djoser. Wake up. Perhaps if you eat." Rolling over, he used his body to pin Spike down, while biting down on his wrist. His blood flowed, rich and noble. Although not equal to his Sire's blood, it was still powerful enough to be medicinal. Pressing his bloody wrist against Spike's mouth, he prayed that it would be strong enough to snap his brother's delirium.
The blood smeared on Spike's lips before trickling into his mouth. Familial blood on his tongue, the vampire stopped his thrashing. "Sire?" Barely conscious, fever raging, he thought himself back at the Hyperion with Angel. "Sire, I don't feel right."
Closing his eyes, hearing Spike call for their Father, Djoser felt both guilt and sorrow run through him. "Just eat, Childe." He urged his brother, playing along with being Angel.
"Alright." Hearing a voice he thought to be his Sire's, Spike calmed considerably. "But don't blame Djoser. The scrap at the pub was my fault. Bloody Temhek! I wasn't. . . ."
"Don't talk, just eat." Djoser imitated Angel's authoritarian tone, as he thoughtfully looked down at Spike. His brother's feverish mind was blending reality with fantasy, thinking he was in LA with their Sire, while also remembering the very real brawl the two of them had been in the night before.
Feeling suckling at his wrist and the body against him relaxing, Djoser loosened his hold. Letting his head fall down on the pillow, he lie there in the dark, contemplating if the road he had chosen for him and brother had been the correct one.
**
Sunnydale, October, 2001
" 'Fraid you blokes just can't beat this." With a satisfied smirk, Spike laid his cards down on the table. A straight flush. Leaning over, he began to pull in his winnings.
"Pretty lucky today, vampire." One of the demon players threw his cards in the middle of the table with disgust. "I'm beginning to wonder about this lucky streak of yours."
"Just what are you trying to say, mate?" Spike looked up from counting what he had won.
"That you cheat!" Angry that the vampire had out cheated him, the Tuun demon banged his fist on the table.
"Me?" Spike injected a false outrage in his voice. "I cheat? He's the one. . . ." He pointed to the Tenuma demon. "That's got X-ray vision."
Also using a faked indignant tone, the Tenuma demon tried to lie convincingly. "I'm not using it."
"I think. . . ." A floppy eared, loosed skin demon named Clem stood up angrily. "That there's only one cheater in this room and that's. . . ."
"Lose a card?" Spike interrupted, looking pointedly at an ace of spades stuck in the folds of skin of Clem's right arm.
"I. . .I. . . ." With a sheepish grin, Clem sat back down. "Had no idea that was there. I could have leaned on that days ago."
"Ri-ight." Disbelief was apparent on Spike's face. "And I'm the bloody king of. . . ."
"You better leave, vampire." The Tuun demon stood up, standing in front of Spike threateningly. "Leave your winnings and. . . ." Breaking off, the demon stared at Spike's neck. His Bloodline mark had been partially covered by the collar of his duster, but up close the demon could make it out. "You're a Blood-Childe!" He turned to the other demons in the room. "He's a Blood-Childe!"
Quickly grabbing their belongings, the demons began a mad rush to the exit, their money forgotten.
"Hey." Spike watched the demons' panicked exodus with bewilderment. "Where you going? I've got all your money. Don't you want a chance to win it back?"
"No, you keep it." Not quite out the door, Clem turned to answer the vampire. "And. . .and be sure to tell your Sire how we let you win all of our money."
"Let me win. . .pfft." Spike gaffed. "I won your money fair and sq. . .well, I won your money on my own. 'Side that, I have no Sire. I'm just a Caitiff vampire, trying to play a friendly game of poker with some demon mates."
"But your mark?" Clem took a step closer, squinting, trying to exam the symbol closer.
"A mistake. That's all it is. Nothing to worry about." Stuffing his booty in the duster's pockets, Spike felt an irrational need to have the demon stay and keep him company. "Listen, since my pockets are full now, why don't we go and buy us something to eat. My treat." Standing up, he held up a ten spot.
"Well. . .I. . .I don't know." Clem stammered. "If you're a Blood-Childe, then I'm sure your Sire would not allow you to hang around with the likes of me. And I don't want to be pissing off some master vampire."
"I told you." Grabbing Clem by the arm, Spike turned him toward the door. "I have *no* Sire. Just a clanless vamp living in a crypt at the cemetery. Would a Bloodline vampire be living there? Come on, let's go and get us some chow, and then I'll take you there. You can see for yourself."
**
"So explain to me why you and your mates won't play cards with a Bloodline vamp." Sprawled out on top of the sarcophagus, Spike was happily munching away on buffalo wings, nachos, and an onion blossom.
"There's no gain in playing with Blood-Childer." Sitting in one of the chairs, Clem was sharing in the feast. "We can't cheat. We don't dare win, even honestly, because if we won, their Sires would still accuse us of fleecing their precious. . .sons." Meeting Spike's eyes, the loose skinned demon still had reservations. "If you're not a Blood-Childe, exactly why are you marked as one?"
"An old man. . . ." Spike rubbed his fingers over the scars on his neck, remembering Judelin, the Ventrue Master. "Put it on me as a joke. But you know, I can see that this 'mark' is only going to cause misunderstandings in the future. Need to do something about that." Jumping off the sarcophagus, he went over to where the weapons were kept.
"What you going to do?" Putting his plate down, Clem stood up, curious.
Pulling out a long dagger, Spike smiled slyly over at his new friend. "Going to demark myself, and you're going to help me."
**
Parking the car at the cemetery, Djoser got out, mulling over the events of the evening. He had gotten what he wanted from Buffy: an agreement that they could stay, a promise that she would speak with her Watcher about the Ventrues, and a confirmation for himself that the Slayer still attracted him.
As his Father's son, he hadn't been allowed to pursue any kind of relationship with Buffy, but now the restrictions had been lifted. He was free. Free to do what he pleased, no longer controlled by a domineering Sire and his responsibility as a Blood-Childe. This sense of freedom was new. Letting it wash over him, he was surprised that instead of just feelings of relief and happiness from his new independence, there also was a feeling of loss. His identity, Djoser, Blood-Childe of Angelus, Tremeren Heir Apparent, was no longer his.
Opening the door of the crypt, the smell of blood was overpowering. Stepping in, the sight of his brother covered in his own blood stopped him in his tracks. "William! What the hell?"
Spike smiled despite his pain. "It's gone, brother. That bloody mark is gone." Turning his head, he bared his neck. His Blood-Childe mark had been excised, and in its place was torn flesh and blood.
"Have you lost your mind?" Two long strides and Djoser had one arm around Spike and a towel pressed up against the bleeding wound. "Don't you remember what happens to you after you've been injured?" Glancing around he took notice of Clem, who was shielding his eyes, looking rather woozy. "And who the hell are you? Did you do this to him?"
Already feeling wobbly from the sight of Spike's blood, Clem's knees began to knock. The vampire who stood before him was intimidating, dark and fierce looking. "I-I. . . ." He tried to stammer out.
"Don't go blaming him." Spike was now half lying on the sarcophagus with Djoser still holding a towel against his bleeding neck. "He only positioned the knife. Said he couldn't do any of the cutting because seeing blood makes him faint. Hey mate." He yelled over at Clem. "Better sit down before you fall down."
"Of course. Right you are." Grateful, Clem sank down into the nearest chair.
Worry now replacing his initial shock, Djoser took another look at his brother's injury. The bleeding had slowed. "William." He now spoke softly as he gently wiped away some of the blood. "Why would you do such a thing?"
"*He* doesn't own me anymore, so why should I have his frigging mark." Letting his head fall down on the sarcophagus, Spike suddenly felt very tired. The adrenaline rush he had while cutting himself had worn off. Eyes closing he whispered. "I'm free, Djoser."
Bending his head, Djoser began to lick Spike's wound. Pausing a moment, he spoke softly in his brother's ear. "Can the two of us ever really be free?"
**
The next evening Buffy found herself reunited with her beloved Watcher. Sitting on the couch next to Giles, more despair filled her as she realized his return hadn't dissipated any of her insecurities and depression.
Sensing her disquiet, Giles tried to reassure her. "Well, if it's any consolation, life can be. . .pretty overwhelming even for people who haven't been. . .where you have."
Staring straight ahead, she managed a weak. " I guess."
"Look." Giles interjected, an optimistic tone to his voice. "As far as your money problems, tomorrow morning, you and I will sit down together and we'll go through everything. Every bill, one by one. We'll work it out together."
Turning her head to look at Giles, Buffy did experience a sense of relief.
Giles was back. She could lean on him, count on him to take care of things for
her. "I'm glad you're back."
Smiling, he leaned over to put a hand on her shoulder. "Well, I'm glad you are too."
Standing up abruptly, Buffy evaded the comforting hand. "I also need to speak to you about. . .about. . .well, Spike and Djoser are back in town. They've run away from Angel. I guess Darla, who's expecting Angel's baby, tried to kill them, and. . . ." The words came tumbling out. It was a safe subject that allowed avoidance of her deeper issues.
"Buffy. . .hold on one moment." Giles was momentarily taken aback by the complete change of subject. "Spike and Djoser are here. Darla is expecting Angel's ba. . .a Pure Blood. " Taking off his glasses, he thought back to his recent meetings with the Council. "There's been much talk about a Pure Blood vampire being born. The vampires are claiming it's a divination that they will rise them up again. The Council is scrambling, researching different prophecies. Judelin, the Ventrue High Master, has. . . ."
"I need to talk to you about him too." Buffy interrupted him. "I've heard that Judelin and the Ventures have become quite powerful. Don't you think that we should be thinking about what that means for us? Spike and Djoser have agreed to ally themselves with me. . .with us against the Ventrues. They also said that if we help them track down an uncle of theirs, then we would also have another al. . . ."
"Against the Ventures?" Now Giles interrupted. "The Ventrues now have a temporary treaty with the Council. Together, they and the Council are going to unite all the vampires under Judelin's rule. With him as the lone High Master, the Council will only have one master vampire to deal with."
"Isn't that similar to the plan they had when they made their deals with Elder Snow? Help one vampire take over all the vampires, and then pull his strings." Buffy couldn't help but roll her eyes. In her mind, the Council was made up of imbeciles and fools.
"Perhaps." Giles agreed. "But this time I think it will be different. Judelin is no fool and has always been more open to treaties with the Council. He, more than any other master vampire, seems to understand the necessity of humans and vampires living together under mutually beneficial rules. Usually, I'm skeptical of any plans the Council has, but this time, I'm convinced that they've done the right thing. So contrary to what Spike and Djoser say, the Ventrues are not our enemy."
****