Four vampires. Lairing in a mausoleum. How original. Buffy wouldn't have been surprised to find that they had an underground passage to a larger crypt or to the sewers beneath Sunnydale. In that, she was disappointed. They had all been waiting in the mausoleum, and it didn't look like they were planning a further retreat. They were making a last stand.
There was one surprise with this group, however. The actually seemed to know how to fight. They didn't play fair or take her on one at a time, but rather cane at her all at once. They also used their lair and its layout to their advantage. She was actually breaking a sweat. She didn't even get an opportunity for some witty remarks until she dodged one punch to her face and it hit one of the vampires behind her. "Ooh, that had to hurt," she said, a look of mock sympathy on her face as she backhanded one trying to come up behind her.
Using the brief respite as the four vampires collected their wits to pull a stake out of her sleeve, she was caught by surprise by one of them recovering faster than she had expected. He knocked the hand holding the stake from below, and the sharp wooden object arced gracefully through the air, and one of the two female vampires caught it. "Let's see you stake us now, Slayer," she said, a vicious smile on her face as she readied the stake for her own use.
Buffy smiled. "There are other ways to take care of you." She then swung her foot in a wide circular arc that hit the vampire who had disarmed her in the chin. Turning to face him, she pelted him with punches, driving him back. She was about to grapple with him when she was hit several times from behind, forcing her to pay attention to the other two unarmed vampires. She was doing just fine in holding off the three of them, but the fourth, the female with her stake, kept stabbing at her at inconvenient times. This forced Buffy to dodge the stake, allowing the others to get in a few good hits.
Buffy finally had the chance to nail two of the vampires in the stomach—one male and the unarmed female—causing them to collapse. She had to dodge quickly to avoid the downstroke of the stake. The vampire behind her was waiting for that move, and caught her in a judo hold. He used her own backwards momentum to flip her across the room, where she crashed into a large stone coffin at just the right angle to push the lid partially off. Buffy was slightly dazed from her landing, but noticed the loud crash as the doors to the mausoleum were opened forcefully.
"What's all this, then?" she heard a familiar—and somewhat unwelcome—voice ask. "Four of you, eh? Well, let's have at it." With that, Spike pulled out a stake and began attacking the armed female. The other three began to move towards Spike as well; he would shortly have more than he could handle on his hands.
Buffy pulled herself up using the stone coffin as a crutch as she tried to clear her head. As she pushed herself into a standing position, she found herself looking down into the coffin. She noticed that it was finely crafted of white marble with pretty carvings of fruits and vines all over it. Inside was a skeleton—completely clean, with no flesh hanging on it—with a wooden stake through its ribcage. Her head was almost clear, and she needed to get back to the fight. As little as she cared what happened to Spike, if the other vampires killed him, she would have to fight them on her own again. That hadn't been going so well.
While the four vampires were attacking Spike, Buffy walked up behind them and staked the armed female through her heart. The stake clattered to the floor as her body turned to dust. Buffy was already staking one of the males before they even noticed the destruction of the comrade. This left the fight at two on two, and spike and Buffy each accounted for one of the remaining vampires. The fight was over in less than a minute later.
As they were walking away from the scene of the battle, Spike spoke up. "Well, that was fun, love. Those were some toughies, weren't they?"
Buffy stopped walking, took a deep breath, and turned to face him. "Spike, those were some skilled vampires, and their teamwork was remarkable. I may not have been able to defeat them without your help. Don't think this means I like you; I don't. I'm simply thanking you for your help." She took another deep breath, as if to steady herself after such a draining restraint of anger, and then walked away, leaving Spike on his own. He stared after her for a time, then went back to his own lair, disappointment in his unbeating heart.
In the mausoleum, the skeleton in the coffin was covered in tatters of flesh.
***
As the last rays of the setting sun disappeared the next evening, a handsome, naked youth with pale skin, dark eyes, and raven black hair stepped out of the door to the mausoleum.
***
A woman hustles down the dark street, her light coat held close around her as if it is armor protecting her from the night. As she passes each alley, she peeks inside it before hurrying past. When the light from the headlights of passing cars passes over her, she relaxes briefly, but when the darkness returns, she hastens on again.
When she looks into one alley, however, she pauses. Straightening and relaxing, her hands falling from the edges of her coat to her sides, she walks in. Once consumed by the darkness of the alley, she emits a small sigh. A few seconds later, her hand falls out of the alley, the rest of her body concealed by the shadows of the alley where she drew her last breath.
***
The afternoon sunlight falls on the street outside the magic shop where Buffy and the Scooby Squad are gathered around the research table, looking at newspapers. They all jump as the serious silence is broken by the sound of the bells indicating an opening store door rings through the shop, followed by the sound of Dawn's voice. "Hey, guys! Have you heard about the new rash of vampire attacks? It's all around school— oh," she said, skidding to a halt beside her sister as everyone lifted the papers they were reading to show the headline:
************************************************************************
Mysterious Deaths Last Night Seem to be the Work of a Serial Killer
Puncture Wounds on Necks—Could it be a Vampire Cult?
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Buffy spoke first. "It certainly seems like a vampire attack, but why would they be so carelessly obvious about it?"
"There was no sign of a struggle with any of the victims, Buff. Could Dracula be back?" Xander shuddered as he suggested this possibility. He remembered all to clearly Dracula's mental tricks.
"It's kinda creepy," said Dawn.
"Don't worry, Dawny," said Terra.
Willow nodded. "I'm sure Buffy will take care of them tonight. Everything will be alright."
Dawn wasn't really all that worried to begin with. She had just wanted to ask her sister and her friends if it was really happening, or if it was just some rumor around school. She knew that Buffy wouldn't let anything happen to her, and besides, she knew how to avoid vampires. They all tended to behave alike. For that reason, she almost never went out with her friends, and had only been to the Bronze once or twice, despite its continued popularity. That was one of their favorite hunting grounds.
"Maybe you should go check the morgue," suggested Anya. When everybody looked at her, she continued, "Vampire victims generally struggle. If there are five victims who didn't—as these articles seem to indicate—all in one night, perhaps it was something else that drained them. Besides, most vampires only need a small amount of blood each night. Five whole humans drained completely dry would be enough to feed twenty or more."
***
Late evening at the Bronze, and the couples are still forming. A young man and young woman are chatting at the bar. The man—really only a boy—has a sprite, and the woman—also little more than a girl—a Shirley Temple. The girl smiles widely at the boy, flashing her low décolletage in its most advantageous fashion, and the youth smiles shyly behind his hand.
They both stand up together, and take each other's hands. As they walk towards the door to the back alley of the club, it isn't clear who is leading whom; they both seem anxious to get some privacy.
As the doorway to the alley opens, the woman pulls the young man out of the Bronze behind her. As the shutting door cuts off the light and noise of the club, a masculine voice comes out of the darkness of the alley. "Well done, Bridget, you have brought us a fine one tonight. We'll eat well!"
The girl's voice responds as she drops the youth's hand and she faces the shadowy figure that had spoken. "This one's pretty, Mike. Could I Sire him when we're finished? I want a little fun."
The boy looks confused for a moment. "Bridget, what are you talking about? Who have you brought me to?"
The shadow with the masculine voice ignores him completely. The smile on his vampiric face, when he steps into enough light for it to be visible, is indulgent. "We'll see, my dear. It depends on how many pieces we have to cut him into before he stops struggling."
As other shadows resolve themselves into vampires, Bridget turns around to reveal her own hungry visage. The youth lets out a tired sigh. "Great. Vampyri. I should have been more cautious in my choice, I see."
As Bridget advances on the boy, she croons, "If you are a good boy and don't fight us, I can make you immortal."
The light of one of the alley lamps shines on the boy's smooth face, but fails to penetrate the dark shadows around his eyes. His vicious smile reveals two sharp fangs that glint brilliantly in the light. "I am a vampire, you fools. Go find some human on which to sate your hunger."
The one called Mike laughs. "False teeth won't save you from our fangs, boy! We're real vampires, not little kids who think it's Halloween."
The boy looks startled for a moment, then his smile becomes disappointed. "You really don't know, do you," he says. "Pathetic vampyri who think themselves to be true vampires. You have no idea what you're dealing with." With a sigh, he gestures for them to approach him. "Come on, let's get this farce over with."
With that, the vampires descend on him like a pile-up at a football game. Forty-three seconds later, the youth walks back into the Bronze, brushing dust from the sleeve of his jacket.
***
When Dawn got to her first class in school the next day, she noticed that there was someone in the desk next to hers. It was usually empty. She didn't recognize the boy, so he must be new—at least to the class. He was handsome enough, but he looked exhausted, maybe even stoned. Dawn giggled at that thought. Drug use would be a huge scandal in the small Sunnydale High School—just recently rebuilt from the disaster during her sister's graduation.
The new kid looked up with a startled expression when the bell rang, and Dawn jumped, realizing that she had been standing just inside the doorway for the last couple of minutes. She joined the general rush to sit down before the teacher arrived. She was about to introduce herself when Mr. Jacobson walked in.
"Sorry I'm late, class. I have an announcement to make this morning before we get to the excitement of the vocabulary test." The class half groaned/half laughed at the joke, then began to talk amongst itself before the teacher raised his voice for silence again. "The announcement: we have a new student. He has just transferred here from New York, so let's all try to make him welcome. Vincent, would you like to introduce yourself?"
The kid next to Dawn stood up. From the expression on his face, his head was protesting the action, but he kept both hands on the table rather than hold his head as he seemed to want to do. "My name is Vincent Mathews. I just moved here to Sunnydale, and was up a little late last night unpacking. I should be more conversational tomorrow," he muttered, his mouth barely moving. He gave a sickly smile and then sat back down, burying his head in his arms on his desk.
Dawn put the new boy out of her mind as the vocabulary test came around the room. She hadn't studied for it, but the words were rather easy, so she was able to give definitions for most of them without too much trouble. The English class after the test was over was boring, so her attention kept wandering back to her new neighbor. Though his eyes were closed, he wasn't snoring or breathing in the rhythmic fashion of one who was sleeping, plus he smiled with his lips pressed together when Mr. Jacobson made his weak jokes, so he must have been paying attention.
As usual, Jacobson went long in his lecture, so everyone was scrambling for the door when the bell rang signaling the end of first hour. During the passing time between classes, Dawn heard more whispers about vampire attacks. Now, the victims were showing up unconscious with puncture wounds on their necks. Only one was a fatality; the others didn't remember anything—they just blacked out and woke up where they were found.
Dawn was already looking forward to the end of the day by the time History rolled around, and it was only the class just before lunch. She didn't have any real friends at school, and was viewed as a bit of a weirdo by her peers. She wanted to get together with her friends in the Scooby Squad, but they were all Buffy's age, and out of school or in college.
History was at least interesting; they were studying World War II, and that should keep her from being too bored while waiting for lunch to start. Miss Arnolds announced that they would be beginning projects to be done in pairs detailing the structures of the governments involved in WWII. Dawn groaned internally. She hated group projects because she was always the odd woman out. With no real friends her own age, she was always stuck with whoever didn't have their best friend in the class that day. It wasn't that she was unpopular, but she also wasn't particularly popular, either.
She just slumped down in her desk while the flurry of students seeking partners went on around her. A couple minutes later, Miss Arnolds spoke up, "Everyone, settle down. Quiet, please. Good. Now, does everyone have a partner? Raise your hand if you don't."
Dawn raised her hand. She was expecting to be the only one with her hand up, as there were an odd number of people in this class. She hoped that she could work on this project alone rather than get grouped into a threesome. The other two in the threesomes always resented her presence, and she always felt she did her best work on her own. Plus, she could get Willow to help her with the research. Heck, maybe Spike could tell her a little about what he remembered from that time first hand!
She was surprised by Miss Arnolds' next statement. "Oh, good. You two can work together then."
Dawn looked around the room to see who else was partnerless. Her eyes widened when she saw that it was that new kid, Vincent. She must have been preoccupied earlier in the class to have missed his introduction as a new student in here.
"Why don't you two move so you are sitting next to each other?" suggested Miss Arnolds.
As there was an empty desk beside him, Dawn got up and moved to sit next to Vincent. He still looked a bit out of it, but offered her a closed-lipped smile as she sat down next to him. They sat in silence listening to the remaining instructions regarding the project. Each group was to have one government to explain. Dawn and Vincent were assigned France.
After History was over, it was lunchtime. Dawn sought out her partner, who she found outside under a tree in the sunny courtyard. Sitting down next to where he seemed to be sleeping, she pulled her lunchbox out of her backpack. "Hey, Vincent?"
He opened one eye and looked at her. "I just thought we should begin to talk about what we're going to do for our project," she began. When he didn't respond, she looked around for his lunch, but all she saw was his backpack leaning against the trunk of the tree next to him. "Aren't you going to eat lunch? We only have a half-hour," she said.
Sighing, he pushed himself back against the trunk of the tree until he was sitting. "I…er…forgot to pack myself one this morning. I, um, slept late and had to rush to make it here on time," he mumbled.
"Oh," said Dawn, nonplussed at his almost surly attitude. "Well, um, would you like some of my sandwich?" she offered.
He shook his head. "No, thanks. I'll be fine."
Dawn looked at his drawn face and exhausted posture and snorted. "Right. You're just brimming with energy. Here, take it," she said, holding out the promised half of her sandwich.
A pale, slender hand reached out to accept it, and he offered her another of those close-lipped smiles. "Thanks." He sat there staring at it for a moment. When she took a bite of hers and looked expectantly at him, he took a small bite out of his half, almost as if he were ashamed of being seen eating. "It's good. What is it?" he commented, mumbling around the miniscule nibbles he was taking.
"Don't tell me you've never had peanut butter and jelly before!"
Vincent seemed taken aback by her reaction. "Er—no, I have…it's just, um, been a long time," he explained, still mumbling. "I'd forgotten what it tasted like."
This kid is strange! thought Dawn. How could you forget what peanut butter tastes like? "Um, anyway…about that history project?" When Vincent grunted and nodded for her to continue, she went on, "It's due next Thursday, so we should get started on it soon. Can you meet me after school sometime?"
He looked at her quizzically. "We cannot complete it in class?"
"No, I don't think so…they generally require out of class time. Where do you live? I'll come by your house after school."
"Um, no," he mumbled, "that won't work. Where else could we meet?"
Dawn thought for a moment. She didn't want to give him directions to her house, and besides, she wasn't there too often. "Why don't you follow me to the magic shop; that's where I usually go after school."
"You're into magic?" asked Vincent, almost not mumbling in his genuine surprise.
"Well, no, but Willow and Tera are, and that's where all my friends go to talk about—stuff." Maybe she shouldn't tell him what exactly they discuss in Scooby meetings. "Anyway, we can see if they've got anything in their historical section, then go elsewhere. Okay?"
"Very well," muttered Vincent. "Where should I meet you?"
"How about here?"
"Fine."
***
It turned out that they didn't meet by that tree, as they also shared their last class: Algebra. They walked together to the Magic Shop in silence, primarily because Vincent's refusal to speak above a mumble made it impossible to hear him over the noise in the street.
Dawn walked into the door first, the ringing bells announcing her arrival.
"Hey Dawn," greeted her sister. "We were just discussing the attacks last night. Only one fatality, but still no struggles. And the wounds on the victims at the morgue were—" Buffy cut off when Dawn stepped out of the way to reveal her company coming in behind her.
"Hi, Buffy!" greeted Dawn, forced cheerfulness on her face as she attempted to tell them to nix the Scooby talk. "This is Vincent. He's my partner for a history project. He's new in Sunnydale."
"Well, hi, Vincent," said Willow. "Where are you from?"
"I am from New York. As you already know my name, what shall I call you, ma'am?"
"My name is Willow. This is Tera, and those are Anya and Xander, and that's Dawn's sister Buffy."
"Ah, you're the one Dawn said liked magic. This does seem to be a well-stocked store. I think I'll need to stop by later myself. I need some components." He then offered one of his close-lipped smiles. "What were you talking about when Dawn and I interrupted?" he managed to speak more clearly than usual, but still didn't open his lips very far.
"Um, nothing important," said Buffy, laughing weakly as she pushed the newspapers off the table. "What about this project you two are supposed to be working on?"
"We're supposed to study the French Government during World War II," explained Dawn, making a face.
Anya stood up. "We don't have any history books that would be any use to you on that subject. However, whenever you want to come back and spend your money, we have some fine magical products." That last was directed towards Vincent, who smiled thanks at her—still without showing any teeth.
"Why don't you two try the Library?" suggested Tera kindly.
Xander was looking a bit nervous, and, while that wasn't uncommon for him, it could this time be due to his desire to get rid of the one who didn't know about Buffy's mission in life, and he wanted to get back to discussing it. He stood up and began herding the two High Schoolers to the door. "Yeah, you'd best go check out the Library. There's nothing of interest here."
When the pair was gone and the door safely shut behind them, Buffy looked at Xander with an expression of exasperation. "Good going, Xander. There's no way he'll be suspicious now."
Xander had the grace to look chagrined. "Don't worry, Dawn's with him. She can cover up anything that he may have seen or heard."
"You know, guys," began Willow, "he said he needed magical supplies. Maybe he already knows something?"
Tera put her hand over Willow's. "He was probably just being polite. He may even have been making fun of us for believing in magic. That was careless of Dawny to tell him about our witchcraft."
"He probably just wanted to look cool in front of Dawn's friends," said Buffy. "Now, let's get back to the problem of these strange vampire attacks."
***
This was not good. He had been too careless. Not only were his victims items of gossip around the school, but Dawn's sister and her friends were discussing them seriously. So seriously that they hadn't wanted him to know about it. If the police of this town were any good at all, they must be even closer to the truth. This was something that he could not permit. How could he have been even sloppier than the vampyri that infest this area like cockroaches?
He and Dawn had spent the afternoon researching, and he had learned quite a bit about the history of the world during the last fifty years. Too bad he still needed to learn history for the last 300, as it seemed that his torpor had lasted that long. But that's why he had enrolled himself in this "High School."
Fortunately for him, the hunters that had staked him didn't know what it took to permanently destroy a vampire; they had left his head intact and attached. When someone removed the stake paralyzing him so he couldn't leave his coffin, he was able to regenerate his body, but he had awakened hungry. So hungry that he had been unable to think clearly about anything as complex as hiding his prey once he was finished with them.
So, what was his excuse now? He had simply been lazy. That would have to be rectified. He normally would simply have not drunk any of his prey to death. A good sampling of ten or so would keep his hunger satisfied for a night or two. Unfortunately, High School was a diurnal affair, and required that he appear in daylight. If he showed up in a long cloak to keep the sun off of him and cringed from sunlight he would be given away almost immediately. He needed to drain blood and spirit, and that was always fatal to the prey.
Where could he find a source of prey that wouldn't draw so much attention, or at least would keep it off of him? Preying on the dregs of society used to be sufficient, but he wasn't now living in a town large enough for it to go unnoticed, plus the police of this time were more efficient than in that when he went to sleep. However, there was one place that they would never suspect that it was someone from the outside… Yes, that would work well.
Stepping out of the alleyway where he had been hiding, Vincent smiled, revealing his fangs. Spreading his arms wide, he faded into a man-shaped fog that dissipated and reformed, coalescing into the form of a bat.
The bat flew through the darkness of the night until it came upon the heavily fortified cement structure. It flew unnoticed to one of the many barred windows. Just before it hit the bars, it again dissolved into a cloud of gas that entered through the bars. Once inside the small cell, the gas reformed into a humanoid shape.
The figures on the bunks attached to the walls stirred and awakened, sensing the presence of an extra person. Vincent looked up and met the eyes of the one on the top bunk. "Sleep," he commanded in a soft voice. "Forget." The muscle-bound man rolled back over and went back to sleep.
The one on the bottom bunk was now awake enough to realize that there was something wrong. Just as he was about to call for the guards, Vincent captured the man's gaze with his own. The call died on the man's lips. He stood up silently at Vincent's gesture, and stood passively in the middle of the cell as Vincent stepped up to him and bit him on the neck.
Vincent spent the next three minutes draining the man's blood and spirit from his body. The corpse slumped to the floor of the cell when the youth stepped away. Now for the messy part, thought Vincent with a grimace of distaste as he pulled a dagger out of his sleeve. Using several intentionally sloppy hacking motions, he chopped the head off of the corpse of his latest victim. He made sure to obscure the puncture wounds made by his fangs with a few well-aimed slices.
Stepping back, he studied his handiwork. There really wasn't enough blood to make it convincing, so he sliced his own arm to allow some to wash over the corpse, and then licked the wound shut. It wouldn't do to lose enough to make himself hungry again.
Satisfied that he had concealed the true cause of death adequately, Vincent dissolved into a cloud of air and drifted through the bars of the window before reforming into a bat and flying back towards Sunnydale.