Chapter 10



Christian was humming quietly to himself as he made his way through the house from where his Clan was currently operating. Things with the Aurelians had gone better than expected. She was it. No more waiting. He had spent almost his entire existence working towards this moment and soon it would all be coming to an end.

He came to stop before a small door and knocked quickly before slipping inside. He stood at the top of the steps and peered down into the darkness trying to place the presence he could feel in the room.

“You’re back sooner than I had anticipated,” a voice sounded from the back of the room.

Christian looked down into the darkness from atop the steps which descended into the room and smiled as his eyes unerringly found the speaker’s form in the shadows.

“Things went smoother than expected, sire,” he replied as he jogged down the small steps and into the lower room. “As soon as I touched her, the crystal turned black.” He removed it from his pocket and placed it on the table which stood in the centre of the room.

The figure emerged from the shadows of the room as the crystal was placed on the table. He looked like the corpse his body was. Years of neglect of the simple things that would have kept his appearance youthful—like regular feeding—had sunken his features and leeched the colouring from his skin. He looked fragile—brittle, as though the slightest touch would break him in two. Yet his stance was surprisingly strong as he reached out to pick up the crystal, holding it up to the light and examining it.

It was jet black—completely opaque with the intensity of its colouring. It had an unnatural spark of life to it though as it glittered in the light cast from the flames of the candles surrounding the room.

“Finally,” the figure said as the skin around his mouth was stretched into a parody of his former smile. “We will have to be sure though; nothing can be allowed to go wrong. Not when I am so close.”

His gaze snapped from the crystal to look at Christian. “We will, of course, need the appropriate proof to claim her as one of our own.”

Christian frowned slightly. “The mother?”

“You marked her, correct?”

“Yes, but the claim I placed on her was from when we believed her to be the one we sought. The claim of ownership has gone without renewal since the initial marking. It will be weak, almost non-existent.”

The figure was silent as he gazed once more at the crystal he still held in his hands. “Pay Joyce a visit. Make sure your claim is still in place, then we will meet with the Aurelians and take what’s rightfully ours.”


*****


She was concentrating on keeping her breathing even, her mind blank, and her movements slow and controlled as she mimicked those of her sire. She didn’t need to look at him to make sure she was in time, she could sense every movement his body made beside hers.

The room was hot, almost stiflingly so, but she felt disconnected from the heat. She felt disconnected from everything as she ‘fought in slow motion’ as Spike liked to call it. It was part of her training. Being able to control the movement was as important as knowing the moves. You had to learn be able to disconnect yourself from everything and not let your emotions rule your actions. She had felt stupid learning Tai Chi with her sire, but now she found the slow controlled movements soothing, easily finding the natural trance she always slipped into, a place for her to escape.

Buffy smiled as arms slid around her waist and lips descended onto the satin of her throat. She giggled as he bit into her playfully with human teeth and broke her concentration.

“Spike, I’m trying to learn how to fight here,” she murmured, even as her head naturally fell to the side to allow him access to her neck.

“Piss off, childe,” Angelus growled

“Never, Sire. Annoying you is far too much fun,” Spike grinned back at him.

Angelus dropped his hands and turned to look at his childer, aware of but not surprised by their close contact. Spike’s stance behind Buffy was possessive, even to the ignorant observer. One hand was banded tightly around her waist from behind, the other was resting on her hip holding her in contact with him, and his head lowered slightly so that his cheek was touching the side of her temple. Buffy’s hand rested comfortably over the arm around her waist and her head was inclined ever so slightly, touching Spike’s. She was smiling, a sight that was rarely seen on the young vampiress.

Their positioning alone suggested something more than a close friendship; it was only a question of how much more?

“Oh God, I forgot! I’m meant to be meeting my sister tonight,” Buffy said, quickly disentangling herself from Spike’s arms. She smiled up at him as she darted up to plant a quick kiss on his lips. His hand quickly moved up to hold her head to his as he attempted to deepen the kiss. “I have to go,” she said against his lips.

He pressed another kiss to her lips before reluctantly releasing her. She smiled at him as he pulled back before waving to both of them as she quickly made her way out the door.

Angelus watched her go before turning to Spike. “You two are close.”

Spike frowned. “Yeah, what of it?”

“Don’t tell me she is just another conquest, Spike,” Angelus said seriously. “Buffy is not that type of girl.”

“She’s not,” Spike said with a pause as he contemplated how much he was willing to tell his sire. “I plan on making that woman my mate, Peaches.”

Angelus didn’t make any attempt to hide the surprise that registered on his face. “Your mate? Don’t you think—?”

“Don’t try and talk me out of this. You had yourself mated to Darla barely two minutes out of your grave and before you even knew what a mating was,” Spike said accusingly as he felt his temper start to rise.

Angelus chuckled. “I wasn’t trying to talk you out of anything. I was just going to suggest that maybe you should talk to her about this before you make any decisions. You can’t force someone to mate with you.”

Spike looked outraged at the suggestion. “I wouldn’t try.”

“I know,” Angelus answered with a smirk.


*****


She couldn’t remember what had possessed her to make the decision. Why on earth had she decided to uproot her family and move them across the state to live in a little nobody town called Sunnydale? Why Sunnydale? Surely her children would be safer in Sunnydale then LA right? LA where they had lived almost all of their lives. LA where they knew where to go and where to stay away from. LA where the vampire population stuck to one side of the city, away from the area in which they lived. LA where her ex-husband lived. Ah, that was it. That was the reason she had made the move to Sunnydale. It was all Hank’s fault. Wasn’t it always though? Who would have thought that such a sleepy looking town would be home to not only a Hellmouth of all things, but also home to more than one ancient vampire clan?

Joyce let out a bitter laugh, allowing the half empty bottle of amber liquid that she had been using to numb the pain slip out of her hands and onto the floor.

The knock on the front door was loud in the silent house. Joyce moaned and rolled further into the couch hoping Dawn would come down from her room and answer it. Dawn is not home, though, is she? Rolling herself to her feet, Joyce stumbled her way through the house to the front door and flung it open.

“Yes?”

“Hello, Joyce.”

Joyce stared blankly at the man—vampire—before her. Memories of his punishing grip as his fangs sank into the skin of her neck racing through her head. He hadn’t aged a day—he was still the almost sinfully good looking man she had met at a club when she was barely 17. The man who had offered to walk her home so she didn’t have to walk alone in the dark. The man who had laughed and joked with her right up until the moment he turned on her. The man who had haunted her nightmares for years afterwards.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in, Joycie?” Christian asked with a hint of amusement in his voice that put Joyce on edge.

“Don’t call me that!” Joyce spat out, suddenly completely sobered.

“Not going by that name anymore?”

She ignored his teasing question. “Vampire’s can’t enter your home unless they are invited.”

Christian let a slow smile slide across his face. “True. But it would be in your best interests to invite me inside. Or should I say your daughter’s best interests.”

She wasn’t naive enough to believe that anything as simple as the law would stop him from harming her daughter if he really wanted to. Images of her last remaining daughter broken and bloodless flashed through her mind. “What have you done?”

Christian smiled brilliantly at her “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. So, do I get an invite?”

Torn between her own safety and that of her daughter’s she found herself stepping back to hold the door open wider.

“You need to speak the words, Joycie”

“Come in,” she managed to push past the knot in her throat. The vampire smiled cheerfully at her and stepped over the threshold. “What have you done to Dawn?”

“Dawn?” Christian asked with a small frown. “I have no intentions of harming your youngest child, Joycie. It is the eldest Miss Summers about whom I was referring.”

Joyce gave a bitter laugh at the reference to Buffy. “Buffy? What more could you possibly do to her? Kill her? She is already dead. Why bother turning her in the first place if you only intend to kill her now?”

“Turn her? You’re must be mistaken, I had nothing to do with Buffy’s turning.”

Joyce’s hand flew to trace the scar on her neck. “But—”

“But, indeed. My mark dictates that you and your kin are my property. Now, either my mark has faded into non-existence,” Joyce shook her head and backed up as he began to advance on her, “or it has faded enough to release its hold over your kin. No one except me should have been able to touch either of your daughters.”

Joyce felt her back hit the wall behind her. “I didn’t do anything to it, I have touched it.”

Christian smiled at her and reached out to run his fingers down the length of her neck, lingering over the raised flesh of her scars.

“Please don’t,” she whimpered as his face morphed into his demon’s countenance.

Christian leant down, darting his tongue out to run along the puckered bite mark. Joyce whimpered beneath him, pushing at his shoulders as she fought to dislodge him from her. A strangled cry left her throat as she felt his teeth break through the unresisting skin of her neck.

Christian took three long pulls of her blood before pulling back and sealing the wound again. The claim was still there, extending to both her and her family, but it was weak. Weak enough that a drunken Penn would have missed it—ignored it even. Is that what had happened? Had he ignored it as way of retribution against Christian for the murder of his mate?

Christian looked down at the body that had gone limp in his arms. Joyce had passed out the moment his fangs had exited her throat. He moved her carefully to lie on the couch once more, carefully navigating his way through the multitudes of bottles that littered the room.

He made sure the wounds on her neck were closed once again before straightening up and letting himself out of the house.


*****


Buffy didn’t sense them as she walked into the small all night café. So used to the feeling of so many vampires constantly around her, she didn’t realise until it was too late that she was surrounded. The first one attacked from behind and she heard her sister scream out to her as a heavily booted foot slammed into her lower back. Buffy fell to her knees but recovered quickly as she spun around to face her attacker.

Taking a deep breath, she fought to remember what she had been doing just that morning. She quickly glanced around her—there were five of them. Pity her training had only covered handling one attacker. She couldn’t take on five at once.

Dodging the next attack that was thrown at her she saw the break she need and took it. Ducking under his arm she bolted for the door.

She had taken three steps before she felt tight arms band around her waist. “Gotcha, sweetheart.”

“I’m not your sweetheart,” was her reply as she threw her head backwards, connecting with the other vampire’s skull with a loud crack. His arms loosened slightly and she took the opportunity to stomp her foot down onto the arch of his foot.

He yelled out in pain and dropped his arms in reflex. She shook him off and ran for the door. Her head felt dizzy from the blow she given herself trying to fend him off but she made it out onto the street with relative ease.

The four remaining vampires were hot on her heels. She knew her only choice was to try and out run them. Taking off down the street, she picked up one of the chairs outside the café and threw it back into them, hoping to buy herself sometime.

The vampire in the lead growled and let his demon burst over his features as he threw the chair out of his way. Buffy didn’t pause to see what the remaining vampires did with it as she continued to sprint down the street. She needed to get back to the mansion and fast.

Buffy skidded to a stop as a car screeched to a halt beside her. The passenger door was flung open and a small head looked out at her from the driver’s seat.

“Get in!” Dawn yelled. Buffy had never been so glad to see her sister.

She ran across to the car and got in, slamming the door shut after her as Dawn pulled out from the curve.

“Since when have you been able to drive? Since when did mom let you even go for your license?” Buffy asked as she looked out the passenger window at the four figures that were gradually getting smaller as they pulled away from them.

“Since she is too busy lolling around drunk on the couch to drive me anywhere. She’s been a mess since you’ve been gone,” Dawn replied seriously. “Where are we going?”

Buffy frowned and settled back into her seat. “To the Aurelius Mansion.”



AN: Thank to everyone who has left me a review so far :D I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Big thanks to Andrea for bta'ing this for me :D