Chapter 5



“Are you ready, Buffy?”

Buffy looked up from where she had been staring at her hands and into the brown eyes of her soon-to-be sire. Was she? Despite her anger towards Penn, when put on the spot she wasn’t sure whether she was ready to be rid of their deep seated connection. She had been sure that no such connection existed and had been loathe to admit that after hours of introspection, she could in fact feel something connecting her to the beast that had done this to her. Admitting that she wasn’t ready to see it gone would be even harder.

Angelus held his hand out calmly.

Buffy stared at the proffered extremity. When she was a child, her grandmother had told her that you could learn a lot from just looking at a person’s hands. She had never really understood what her grandmother had meant, and now, looking at Angelus’ hand she had never found her longing for that particular gift more.

Buffy reached her hand out slowly, hesitating for only a moment before she slipped her smaller hand into his larger one. In the end what choice did she have? She needed a sire and Penn wasn’t an option.

Angelus gave her a small smile of reassurance as he led her over to a small wooden door on the other side of the room. The squeak in its hinges as it was pushed open made her smile as she thought of how it managed to fit the setting the mansion carried so aptly—sinister. She repressed the slightly nervous chuckle that threatened to escape as she stepped through the doorway, following Angelus into the smaller room.

A gasp rang through the room as her step faltered for a split second over the threshold, causing her to stumble as her eyes landed on the room’s interior.

Torches lined the stone walls of the circular room, their light flickering in the air current, causing eerie shadows play across the faces of its occupants—the Order of Aurelius minus Angelus who was leading her in. They were standing in a circle around the border of the room, dressed in black as usual, but with the added addition of large hooded cloaks that covered them almost completely.

The sight in itself was not what bothered her. In the few days she had spent living in the Aurelius mansion, she had grown accustomed to its creepy lighting and black clad figures wandering about. No, what gave her pause were the two stone dais that stood in the centre of the room.

Buffy could see the iron restrains bolted to the floor either side of them—old and rusted—as well as dark patches staining the stone that she was almost positive would turn out to be blood on closer inspection. Ritual room? For what, ritual virgin sacrifices?

“You know, suddenly I’m not so sure about this,” she mumbled aloud as she held herself out of easy reaching distance.

Angelus smiled and held his hand out once more. “It’s okay, Buffy.”

What was okay about being shackled to a stone bed stained with blood? Suddenly, Angelus’ open handed beckoning didn’t seem so much a welcoming as it did a shrouded threat.

Angelus’ smile widened at her hesitation as he stepped forward to take her hands in his own. Despite her reservations she came with ease, finding herself led to the centre of the room and shackled to one of the stone beds before she could give voice to the protests that were rising in her throat.

She focused on trying to bite back the fear that was rising within her stomach over their intentions. More and more this was beginning to feel like an elaborate set up to see her dusted.

The last shackle closed around her ankle with a definite clank resounding throughout the room as she lay staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. Stay calm, they would have dusted you on sight if the wanted you dead. It was amazing how much could change in such a short time. Just a few days earlier she would have welcomed her end had she been given the chance to say goodbye to her family. Now, even the thought of it being possible filled her with an almost mind-numbing terror.

Buffy’s attention was diverted from her inner musings as one of the nine stepped forward from the shadows and lowered the hood from his face. For the first time in her life, she was looking into the sober brown eyes of her sire. They were grief stricken. She had never seen so much pain radiating from so deep within one person before. His whole stature spoke of defeat.

Penn removed his cloak slowly and passed it to his sire. Buffy watched as the two vampires stood before one another silently.

A bittersweet smile touched the younger vampire’s lips “Glory to the clan of Aurelius?”

“Never doubt it,” was Angelus’ cryptic reply.

It was a goodbye. Buffy could hear the finality in their voices moments before they embraced quickly and Penn was shackled to the dais beside hers. She would have found the move comforting had she not witnessed Penn’s final words to his sire.

There was silence throughout the room as Angelus methodically closed the shackles around his childe’s limbs. Buffy’s head rolled to the side to look at her sire. He was watching her, and there was a look in his eyes that she couldn’t decipher. It seemed to be caught between regret and awe—she didn’t know which it was meant to be so her face remained neutral as she watched him watch her.

“Let those present stand witnesses to this moment.” Angelus stepped up between them and came to lay a hand over the centre of both of their chests.
He spoke calmly as his eyes scanned the circle, making eye contact with each member of the family.

“We come without prejudice or motive to this Embracement,” they repeated in unison.

Oh My God.

Angelus removed his hand from Penn’s chest to take up one of the nearby torches. Stepping forward, he touched it to a mark on the floor and watched as it ignited with a whoosh. The flames burst to life and crawled their way along the floor twisting through intricately carved grooves following the mapped out pattern until the three of them were surrounded by a ring of fire.

Angelus replaced the torch and positioned his hand on his childe’s chest once more. “As the ring of fire is created, none shall leave until the ritual is complete. Do you bear witness?”

“We bear witness,” the order replied

The deep tenor of Angelus’ voice washed over Buffy as he spoke the first words of the ritual. The moment was surreal. Save for the light the fire cast, the room was in darkness. She could see smoke curling around the ceiling, dissipating slowly through the only means of ventilation within the room—slim air holes positioned between the stone to allow smoke to escape but no light to enter.

“Do you cast this childe from your care and into my guidance, knowing that I will provide for her and teach her the ways of the family?” Angelus spoke clearly without any unnecessary inflection.

Penn’s eyes were riveted to some point on the ceiling as he answered. “I do.”

Angelus lifted his eyes once more “Do you bear witness?”

“We bear witness,” the order spoke clearly.

Buffy took a harsh gasp for breath as her back involuntarily arched from the stone and something began to snap loose inside her. Her eyes were wide and her face was set in a frozen mask of pain as a burning feeling started to rush through her limbs in the direction of her heart. Her body warped away from the cold stone in an effort to escape the pain that was beginning to race through her. A loud broken wail was torn from her lips seconds before her demon burst onto her features.

Her body jerked violently as she tugged at her restraints. Angelus’ firm hand struggled to hold her down as he spoke over her pained wails. “Do you willingly relinquish all rights to the responsibility of her protection and understand the consequences of this action?”

Penn was gasping for unneeded breath as his head rolled to look at the childe that was being torn away from him “I…” She was in so much pain. He wanted to go to her—protect her and comfort her. He could feel everything she was feeling within himself as they experienced the feeling of their connection starting to sever.

Penn screwed his eyes shut against her. “I do.”

“Do you bear witness?” Angelus practically growled at the order as he fought to control Buffy’s bucking form. Her demon was in control, snarling and snapping at anything within reach in between the broken cries that were being involuntarily torn from her.

“We bear witness,” the order repeated calmly, remaining unaffected by the sight.

Buffy was quivering. Things like this were only meant to happen in movies and books. She felt disconnected from her body and the pain she was feeling. Buffy watched herself from a distance as her body warped and clawed at the stone bed beneath—her fingertips were torn and bloody from where her fingernails had broken off, her wrists rubbed raw and bleeding from pulling on her restraints.

She felt herself shrinking away from herself—the monster was in complete control again. In that moment she knew she was nothing more than an animal amidst the violent growls and snarls she was aiming at Angelus as the one responsible for her pain. Yet she could still see the girl—pleas for her sire could still be heard interspersed in an endless litany of pain-filled shrieks and sobs.

They had told her it would be distressing—they had lied. She was feeling more than simple distress. Tormented anguish was more apt a description. Her sire was being ripped away from her and they had bound her to a bed to stop her from doing anything about it. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t wanted him to begin with—she wanted him now and that was all that counted.

Angelus slammed his hand down against her shoulder to hold her to the stone. “Is it your wish that this ritual be completed and willingly consent to the severing of all ties to your childe?”

Penn didn’t answer, a pained whimper falling from his lips.

“Childe!” Angelus’ tone was commanding, snapping Penn back to the present. “Is this your wish?”

Penn seemed to struggle with his answer, his own demon bursting onto his features as he practically screamed his response. “Yes! It is my wish!”

Angelus grabbed Buffy’s flailing arm as she tried in vein to claw her way out of her restrains and held her wrist out over Penn’s mouth. The younger vampire didn’t allow room for thought or doubt as he bit down harshly and began to swallow mouthfuls of her blood.

“As he takes back the blood that animated her and gave her strength do you bear witness?” Angelus asked.

“We bear witness!” the order chanted over the cacophony of shrieks. Their answer echoed around the room as they watched Buffy freeze as the last word fell in unison from their lips. Her wailing ceased and for a moment she remained rigid in her warped pain before becoming limp and sinking slowly down to the stone to which she was chained.

The room was buzzing with a deafening silence.

All movement within her had ceased as her eyes grew dull and glassy. The air that she had gasped left her body in a long winded exhale and her head lolled lifelessly to the side to stare unseeingly through the flames. She felt empty—like she was nothing more than a shell and inside was hollow. Like someone had come in and shoved their hand into her chest before ripping out everything that she was.

Millions of thoughts seemed to run through her head as she stared past the wall of flames surrounding them, yet idly she found herself wondering if you would be able to hear the ocean inside her if you held her open mouth to your ear. Wasn’t that what was meant to happen? If something was empty, weren’t you meant to be able to hear the sea inside it? The absurdity of the thought amused her yet she felt no inclination to show any outward reaction.

Her body’s natural reactions had shut down as it tried in vain to cope without the constant support that the presence of a sire provided for a fledgling. He had been in there all along. Buffy hadn’t thought she could hate Penn any more for what he had done to her, now he had left her and her demon without support and she didn’t know how to cope.

Images of another life flashed before her eyes. They moved too quickly for her to make out anything other that dull shapes the sound echoing shrieks that mirrored the ones that had fallen from her lips moments earlier. But she tried to focus on them to distract herself from the nothing that she felt.

The room watched on as Buffy’s mouth fell open and a small whimper passed her lips—the only indication that she was still with them. She didn’t respond as the shackles were slowly removed from her wrists and ankles or as Angelus scooped up her inert form and cradled her body to his own.

Angelus bit down into his own wrist, letting the blood well in the wounds before spilling over, manoeuvring her body so that his wrist was positioned to trickle blood into her open mouth.

“Aware of the consequences of my actions and in the witness of those present, I embrace you as my childe and welcome you into the familial fold. As my blood gives you strength,” he paused to morph into his demon’s visage, “yours creates the bond that will unite us as family.” Angelus bit down over the almost nonexistent marks from her turning, sinking his fangs deep into the column of her neck to eradicate the prior marks.

Buffy jerked back to life and blinked rapidly as she felt his fangs enter her neck. She swallowed deeply—Angelus’ blood dribbling to stain the lips of her closed mouth and chin as she savoured the taste of an elder’s blood.

The stirrings of a connection started to shift within Buffy as Angelus continued to drink. In response, she sank her fangs into the flesh of his wrist and began to pull blood in earnest. Each pull strengthened the connection stirring between them until she felt something snap into place and she pulled back from his wrist as the word ‘sire’ fell reverently from her lips.

Angelus’ pulled back to stare down at her, his thumb coming out to swipe the spilled blood from her face. “My childe.”

The flames that had been burning at waist height around them flickered and died out completely casting the room in an almost unnatural darkness.

Buffy felt someone shift around her—the pressure of a wet tongue darting out to swipe against the side of her neck as her sire lent in to close the wounds left by his mark. She leaned in and repeated his action to the marks she had left on his wrist.

The hiss of a match being struck could be heard as a soft glow illuminated the darkened room.

Buffy slid from the stone dais, stumbling as she found her legs once more, startling slightly as a strong hand pressed against the centre of her back steadied her. She felt something heavy being settled around her shoulders and her hand instinctively rose to inspect the source. She felt the soft wool of a cloak underneath her fingers as it was draped around her shoulders.

Buffy turned to look into familiar blue eyes.

“Welcome to the family, love.” Light from the only source of illumination was flickering in his eyes as his hand came up to run down the side of her face briefly as he gave her a warm smile. Buffy barely had time to react to the feel of his touch before his hand dropped again and she was left to recall its touch.


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AN: Thankyou to everyone who has left a comment for this fic so far and also to Andrea for beta'ing this fic for me :)