Blood Ties

Summary: Reading some old Watcher's journals, Wesley is surprised to discover more about his own family history and how he and Angel are linked to a nineteenth century Spanish slayer.

A/N: I've been toying with the idea of an Angel/Sharpe crossover for a while but never pursued it because I wasn't convinced as to how well it could work. However, then I found out that Alexis Denisof (the actor who plays Wesley in Angel) also played Lord Rossendale in Sharpe and the idea just wouldn't go away. Research tells me there's a convenient gap between 1789 and 1838 as to what Angelus was up to, so I intend to fill it. And also I'm going to give a big AU answer to the big question, what happened to Antonia? This is going to alternate between early season three of Angel, before any of the crazy stuff with Connor happens, and events that happen several years after the end of "Sharpe's Devil".

Disclaimer: The characters are the properties of Joss Whedon and Bernard Cornwell, I'm just the person crazy enough to mash the two worlds together.

Prologue

Salamanca, Spain
September 1828

The cemetery was silent. A heavy darkness had settled on it, without even moonlight to cast some illumination on the graves. Only the faintest glow from the array of stars overhead was present to define the vague silhouettes in the blackness, revealing the shapes of tombstones and trees that arose menacingly from the shadows. Among them a lone figure stood, staring silently into the darkened spaces as if waiting for something to emerge. The starlight was just sufficient to reveal her form – a young girl no older than eighteen, dressed unusually in riding breeches and a man's jacket, with dark hair that fell in a braid to half way down her back. Her stance was aggressive, poised as if ready to fight and gripping a sharpened object in her right hand. She seemed to be waiting. Whatever it was that she was looking for, whatever may spring from the shadows at any instant, she was ready for it.

All she had to do was listen. In the dead silence of the graveyard any movement would surely be heard; the crunch of footsteps on stones, a twig snapping, the slight rustle of leaves. Just one indication of where her quarry was and she'd be able to kill it. But yet there was no sound…

When it finally came only her razor sharp reflexes allowed her to react to it in time; the faint noise of a footstep much too close behind her, prompting her to quickly spin round and aim a punch at whoever had been approaching her. Her fist never made contact. The figure put up a hand to deflect the blow and then used his other hand to grab hold of her wrist, twisting it so that she felt her entire arm wrenched backwards. Gritting her teeth against the pain, the girl shifted her weight to attempt to throw her assailant off balance and launched a kick at his ankles, hoping to sweep his feet out from under him. The kick landed and had the effect of causing him to let go of her and stumble back a step, but it failed to knock him to the floor. He quickly recovered and came back at her with another punch, which again she tried to deflect, but all too quickly he followed it up with a kick to her stomach which sent her reeling backwards. Gasping slightly and a little taken aback by just how much fighting skill this one seemed to have, she recovered just in time to bring up the stake she was holding as he came towards her, aiming it squarely for his chest. Seeing what she was doing, he twisted out of the way at the last second to come at her from the side, but quickly adapting she brought up her left hand to land a punch to his jaw. The blow connected with a crunch, but rather than fazing him it only seemed to make him even more aggressive. Too fast for her to react, he retaliated with a blow just as hard to the side of her head, causing her to stagger away dazed and giving him chance to land a kick to the back of her knees. She felt her legs crumple and fell to the floor, trying to keep hold of her weapon but unable to prevent herself from dropping it as she fought to recover from the stunning blow. Rolling over, she looked up to see the man standing over her, a sadistically triumphant expression on his face.

Now that they'd paused in their fighting she had more of a chance to take in his appearance. She supposed he could be called what was conventionally considered handsome, with the good looks of a man in his mid twenties and dark hair that reached to just above his chin. He was dressed in the style of the upper classes, wearing a dark coat and breeches that wouldn't have looked out of place among any of the lords or noblemen in the city. What was most striking about him though was his eyes: intensely dark and glinting cruelly as he eyed her with a hungry expression.

The look in his eyes scared her somewhat, but then she reminded herself that she'd fought many of these creatures before and she couldn't let this one get to her any more than the others did. Watching him cautiously, she wondered if he was about to attack her again while she was down, but instead he just seemed content with standing there smirking at her. Still, that could just be a ruse. Having managed to recover from the blow she quickly picked herself up off the floor, ready to fight back if he should make any sudden move. Glancing over at the stake where it had fallen just out of reach she wondered if she had chance to grab it, and as he noticed where she was looking she heard him give a dark laugh. "Well, you seem to have at least some idea of what you're doing, don't you senorita?" he said mockingly, with an Irish accent lacing his attempt at Spanish.

The girl just glared back at him, not about to let herself be intimidated. She had to stay calm and plan her next move: should she make a move to grab her weapon, or try and fight him off first?

She didn't speak as she tried to decide, and when he was met with silence he carried on, trying to unsettle her. "You certainly know how to put up a better fight than the last girl. But really, that only makes this even more fun." His tone was mocking as he leered at her through the dark, a sadistic grin distorting his handsome features.

She glowered at him, not giving him the satisfaction of a response, and then in an instant she suddenly darted forward to grab the stake. At inhuman speed he moved too, coming inbetween her and the weapon. With a gasp she stopped dead as he blocked her path, and as she found herself staring him in the face less than a foot away she instinctively took a step back. He smirked at her again. "Was that really going to be your next move?" he said as he advanced towards her, clearly enjoying having her cornered. She wondered why didn't he just attack her now. He was more than close enough to go in for the kill, but instead he seemed to prefer tormenting her. "That was just so obvious, I expected something better from a slayer," he continued to taunt, "Couldn't you come up with something a little more…inventive?"

He was trying to provoke her into doing something stupid and she knew it, but she wasn't about to let him. "I know who you are," she said, trying to keep him talking as she formulated a new plan. There was an auxiliary stake concealed in the back of her jacket, and if she could just reach it without him noticing… "My watcher's told me about you."

At her words he cocked his head to one side and gave a smirk. "Really now, senorita? And what exactly has your watcher told you?"

"You're Angelus," she replied, slowly moving her right hand to reach behind her back. "The demon with the face of an angel. You've massacred hundreds of innocent people all across Europe."

The vampire gave a dark chuckle. "Is that what he's said? Well, he's not wrong." He took another step forward and this time she didn't back away, making sure he was in range when she sprung the next attack. He leaned in closer to deliver the next taunt. "And what's he going to say when I kill you, slayer? What's he going to write in his watcher's diary when I rip your throat out like I did with those nuns at the monastery?"

Her hand closed round the stake in her jacket. She looked him straight in the eye, her gaze not wavering, and smirked right back. "The only thing he's going to write in his diary, vampire, is that Angelus is dead, and that Antonia Moreno was the one to kill him."

And that was when she moved, whipping out the stake and preparing to drive it straight into his heart…

What she hadn't anticipated was the sudden stab of pain as somebody grabbed hold of her arm from behind, wrenching on it violently, and the high-pitched, girlish voice that whispered in her ear, "I guess your watcher neglected to mention me."

A/N: Angelus and Darla versus Sharpe's slayer daughter. I think I may actually be crazy for writing this, but it's fun so I don't really care. Hope other people enjoyed it and please drop me a review!