The sinking sun set deep in a dark sky signaled the coming forth of the dark ones. It seemed as though the night would never fully come, and the sunlight was a death wish for one of the night. Lucifer gazed quietly out of the window, shades drawn back only an inch, to avoid contact with the still setting sun to his pale skin. The quiet vampire feared the day with a dark intensity, and only awaited the coming of his time to roam free as the insolent humans who dominated the light.
He had been one of them himself. He knew that. Somehow, though, his human life was all a blurred mystery. But there was one thing that Lucifer remembered as clear as the day that held him prisoner here, hiding in the shadows. He remembered his brother. Dark Angelus, who had gained his vampire senses not long before Lucifer himself, and who he followed. Who he thought of night and day. And it was his brother who he had known and hated when he had looked up into the night for the first time with vampire rage and intensity. Angelus had been human, but after following the demon child Darla, his brother was one like him.
But somewhere along the line, as Lucifer had watched, trailing his brother most of his life, Angelus had lost his darkness, and become a demon with a soul. The rarest of creatures, thought Lucifer. What good was a demon with a soul? If not to reek havic on the living mortals, what job did a demon have? But Angelus, who had now called himself the passive vampire Angel, had adapted to the light miraculously.
But even more then all of that was the slayer. Buffy Summers. Lucifer knew the name well. He had heard it many times. And he had watched her. Buffy, with her friends and family, and her vampire lover. It seemed too far out of sight to believe. And if Lucifer had told it to any other vampire who had not seen it as he had, they would greatly doubt the truth in the matter.
Lucifer hated his brother even more now. It was his humanity that bound him to the insolent Buffy, the most hated by vampires and other earth demons. Lucifer had watched them together. But now it would all end. Lucifer would finally control Angel as he had always dreamed of doing. For as his brother almost drained his blood and left him near death, Lucifer had seen the malicious smile and remembered it for 240 years. He would have his revenge...
PART II
As the darkness set, Angel looked quickly around his new home, selecting a specific object to view and removing it from its place on the dusty shelf. Looking through the volume rapidly, he chose the information he needed, closed the book, and, grabbing his coat from the rack, slipped out of the door and into the night.
Angel liked the calm of the darkness, how no one was about, and one was free to do as they chose, but there was not time to lurk about in the dark. He needed to get to the library at Sunnydale High, where Buffy and her friends were up late again investigating a string of violent murders that had struck recently in Sunnydale. A vampire, or several, that they were sure of, but this was no newborn's work. An aged vampire had made these killings, and Angel had seen the work before. He hadn't mentioned it, only mumbled a quick, "I'll be right back," and slipping out of the library to return home for the book.
Upon reaching the library, Angel rushed quickly over to Buffy and handed her the book. It was an older volume, one he hadn't touched from his collection in decades. It's cover was a deep charcoal black, bound tightly, it's thin pages worn from age. The work was entitled Path of Lucifer, The Unnamed Vampire. She stared at the old pages in her hands, then looked up to Angel.
"Angel," she said, her voice thin, "What is this?" Clearing his throat, he answered, "It's a book. I think I may have your killer." She turned through the first few pages and looked up again. "Lucifer?" she said, eyeing him questioningly.
"Yes," Angel said. She must have sensed the bitterness and utter loathing in his voice. But he didn't want to talk about it. She knew that too.
Then he showed her the pages needed to confirm his hazy suspicions, and she studied them carefully, reading the bold, handwritten scrawl that a monk from the old ages had once written by the quiet light of a candle.
She began to read out loud from the giant book, as Angel, her watcher, and the rest of her friends crowded around to look.
"It is he, the unnamed one, who stalks our valleys, in search for fresh blood. It is he who we call the evil one, the darkness, and should he rise, we shall run in terror, and the pain shed on the earth will be that of inhumanly nature. With this volume know the depth of the ancient curse, the one we call The Devil, Lord Lucifer of the netherworld."
Giles showed a spark of recognition in his deep eyes, and his brow furrowed into a tight scowl as he struggled to recall where he had before heard those grave words.
"Giles?" Buffy asked, "Do you have something to share with the class?"
"Well, eh, yes," he replied, "I believe I've heard those words before. As if I know them from a dream."
"Lucifer is the basis of all nightmares," Angel said thoughtfully to all of them.
"Wait a minute here," piped up Xander, Buffy's impudent friend, "Some messed up parents from the sixteen hundreds decided one day to name their son after the devil? Satan?"
"No Xander," Angel replied quietly, "Satan was named after him."
PART III
After six days in Sunnydale, Lucifer's patience began to wear thin. Sitting in the flea-bitten apartment that he had rented in Sunnydale, Lucifer watched the minutes of night tick painfully by. "I should sleep," he thought to himself. Gathering strength for the following night would not come without sleep. For that night, of course, was the night that Angel would finally meet the doom that had followed and haunted him for so long.
Lucifer turned and opened the door of the tiny apartment, and, grabbing his heavy coat with one hand, slipped it on and slid out the door, closing it tightly behind him. The apartment was old and gray, set in the worst side of Sunnydale. Lucifer could have easily afforded the cleaner ones on the opposite end of town, but he needed to stay as far away as possible from his solitary brother. After exiting the building, he zipped up the jacket and walked down the street a few blocks or so.
Then he came to where he wanted to be. A thin smile gripped his refined features, and he opened the door of the tiny building. It was a bar, and yet, with no one ever in the place, it was a wonder to any outsider how it even continued to operate at all. Behind the table was a younger man wiping down the bar tables. He had one black eye, and short, dark hair with a rat-like nose and kind eyes.
"What can I do for you today," he asked Lucifer timidly, sensing his overwhelming power immediately.
"Willie," Lucifer began, "That is your name isn't it? Willie."
"Yeah, that's me," he replied anxiously.
"I need your help with something," Lucifer said slyly, approaching the bar table swiftly.
"Sure. What is it?" he asked impatiently.
Lucifer reached a strong hand over the bar table and grabbed a frightened Willie by the shirt collar. He lifted him up a foot and a half above the ground.
"I need you to tell me about...the slayer," Lucifer said, grinning evilly in the dark light.
"Buffy?" he asked.
"Are there any other slayers running around that I should know about?" Lucifer asked mockingly.
"Well, I thought you might mean Faith, anyway, she's dead. But Buffy's the slayer now. She's a great kid."
"Tell me about her and Angel," Lucifer said restlessly.
"Angel? What would you need to know about Angel? He's a vampire, with a soul, and, uh- he's...uh...old, I'd say, maybe 250 or so. Don't know exactly."
Lucifer loosened his grip and slowly lowered the frightened barkeeper to the floor. "But all that I knew. I need to know...hmm...can you tell me where this Buffy girl lives?"
Willie trembled. "Well, actually...I'm not supposed to say. Ya see-" A jolting punch sped across his mouth before he could finish the sentence. Blood poured from his jaw, spilling onto his crisp white shirt and the counter as well. He seemed to reconsider his answer for a moment, and then, his words run together as he tried to make intelligent speech through a pounding headache and a broken jaw, he said, "Yeah, I'll tell you where she lives."
So Lucifer stayed at Willie's bar and listened to the stupid barkeeper ramble on about Buffy Summers. And it was then that Lucifer got his idea. His brilliant plan. He realized now in total clarity that Buffy Summers was the key to Angelus's undoing. And so as the plan took shape and form in his mind, Lucifer listened to good old reliable Willie the Snitch.
PART IV
"Say what?!" Xander asked again. He still hadn't gotten over that shock of the day, and so, as they went to visit the famous bar of Willie the Snitch that day, he had asked the question several more times. Angel was hidden from the sun underneath a heavy coat checked carefully for holes and a dark hood. He walked with his head bowed, amongst the group of high school seniors, looking very much the odd duck.
With a sigh of relief, Angel threw off his hot garmets the second the door of the bar closed behind them. The others had already begun searching for Willie. It seemed their good friend had dissappeared completely, which was quite unusual in his line of work.
"Willie?" Buffy called out aloud, "Wille? Where are you?"
They finally opened the door to the back room of the bar where Willie himself stayed and found the bloody barkeeper packing a small suitcase in a hurry. His jaw seemed to be hanging by a thread, and a few teeth were knocked periously out of whack. But other than that, he seemed fine. And scared. Defintely scared.
Buffy grabbed him by his collar and spun him around. The poor man jumped about three feet out of his skin before he realized who held him. "Buffy," he said.
"Yeah," she replied, "Where are you going? Who did this to you?"
"I'm skipping town, sister. Which I advise you to do, also. And you," he said, looking Angel straight in the eye.
"You're running," Buffy whispered, more to herself than anyone else, then, more loudly, she said, "From what? Who?"
"I don't know. Big guy came in here last night. Was asking about you and Angel, and well...I'll tell you this- that guy was raw power. He had no restraints. The minute he walked in here I could tell he was an immortal...way immortal. But vamps don't always seem so powerful. Worse than Spike and Drucilla, I'd say. But he wasn't a demon, either. I could tell you that. So he must have been a vamp." The whole time he said this, he had resumed his hurried packing.
"Willie," Angel said, finally speaking up. It was worse than he had expected, but he needed to know for sure. "Tell me- this is very important- did he have a tatoo of Satan on his forearm?"
Willie seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, but then he said, "Well, he did have something on his arm...it was a tatoo, yeah. But I'm not sure what it was." Angel took a gulp. Thinking about his brother had always been painful. All he could remember was the night he had almost murdered him. In cold blood...the very coldest. His private memories were a mess of confusion, but he remembered all that happened that night. The flashback hit without warning or call...
He was walking down a hall...a long one. Yes, he remembered that. At the dinner party in Europe. He was a young vampire, perhaps only a year old. He was there for something, if he could only recall what it was...ah, yes. He was there to see his little brother, Lucifer. Lucifer was younger than him by a year and a half, but now they must seem to look about the same age. But Angelus was a demon and Lucifer was a mortal. A most perfect mortal. He was liked by everyone, the very picture of a perfect son. And he had always overshadowed the young screw-up that he himself, Angelus, had always been. Darla was with him. She was his sire...yes, he remembered that too. Darla. The beautiful vampire who had given him eternal life. She was dressed up...why? Oh, yes, Angel thought, dressed up for dinner. So was he. And Lucifer. But his brother hadn't seen him in a while...since he was made that dark night while he had gotten drunk in a tavern. And met Darla. So he called to his brother, yes. But why did so startled a look come over his face? Was he not happy to see his brother? Perhaps not...but he came. Climbed the stairs with his champagne and his startlingly pleasent aroura. And he had hated Lucifer then with a dark intensity...had felt it coursing through his eternal veins in all glory. And he lead his unsuspecting victim outside. Darla came too...which was alright. He had ripped apart his younger brother...had literally gutted him and laughed in his face when he saw the surprise. He was a demon now, that's what demons did. They killed. But no! Not like this, they didn't...this wasn't for food or life, but for pleasure. As he had dropped his brother and run, leaving him for dead, Darla had granted him the eternal gift. He cursed her for it for all of eternity...
Angel shook himself out of the dreamlike nightmare of past events and looked around him. Buffy watched him with a worried look, and he realized he had collapsed onto the floor with the vision.
"Angel-" Buffy said worriedly, "Are you alright? Did you know him? Know of him? Is he a demon?"
"No!" Angel cried, "No. Lucifer- he...he was my brother."
PART V
The night was new, and Lucifer had many things to do. He had traveled around for a while the night he had gone to see Willie, and began getting the things for his plan. A most brilliant idea, it was. Very much so. Buffy was the key, and he would get Buffy...he had killed a few slayers before. It was nothing new to him, and so he began to set up the important elements of his plan for Angel. He had first made sure that tonight Buffy would be patrolling...a most normal thing for a slayer. He hid himself in Corsin's Graveyard, a few blocks south of Buffy's suburban home. Taking ultimate care with his new prize, Lucifer had to capture her.
Stepping out of the bushes, Lucifer gazed at her quietly, giving a definite air of confidence, but not showing his fangs or attempting to jump her. She looked at him with a slightly puzzled expression, a long, wooden stake in her right hand, her hair swirled up, just to give her a slightly rugged appearance. She was most beautiful...Lucifer saw easily what his brother obviously did. He gave a smile that would have lit up the brilliant night had it not been from a vampire. Her brow furrowed slightly and she spoke hesitatingly.
"Who are you?" she asked quietly, but with definite confidence. He noticed her eyes drifting to his forearm, as if to make out something hidden by his heavy jacket.
"I am called many things," Lucifer replied, "But mostly...well. You can call me Luke."
"Luke?" she asked, obviously perplexed by the name which didn't fit such a creature. Lucifer was sure that she suspected his immortality, but he held her eyes captivated with his, and so she never made a move while he steadily progressed closer and closer. Then he was upon her. Breaking her wrist easily, Lucifer grabbed her around the middle and clamped a hand tightly over her open mouth. The stake had fallen from her hand onto the grass, and Lucifer realized that he had bared his fangs accidentally in the attack. Replacing his delicate features of a mortal, he spoke to her.
"You'll need to come with me," he said.
A few minutes later, she was inside his small apartment, tied roughly to the wall, her broken wrist bound up so as not to hurt it more. She glared at him, and he smiled in that easygoing way that showed he wasn't nervous at all.
"Lucifer," she said.
"I applaud you," he replied, "I really do. It's only once in an age of slayers that one has such sense as to discover who I am before I make my move. It really is an accomplishment." He paused, just slightly, and then asked her, "How is my dear brother Angelus coming along? You two seem quite well." He was enjoying this immensely...it had been a while since he had dealt with a slayer.
"You should know...you are his brother."
"Ah, another point for Buffy Summers," he said mockingly to the tough girl, "But I'm afraid my brother, as you call him, is dead beyond revival. A demon with a soul...what sort of thing is that?"
She sniffled slightly. "Might I ask you," she said cautiously, "How you managed to do that?"
"Do what?" he asked dumbly.
"That," she cried, "How did you capture me so easily?"
"Well, it's quite simple, actually," he said, "Hypnotism is all...you were an easy one to get."
Buffy looked cautiously at him again. He was awfully handsome, she thought. He was the night to Angel's day. But he was definitely attractive...very. His hair was short, almost the same style as Angel's, and a dark, jet black. His eyes were smoky gray, filled with sharpness and definite wit. She had seen charcoal drawings of him in Angel's book, but somehow, none of the artists managed to capture that definite knowing twinkle in his eye...too bad he was evil...the root of all evils of the world.
"Hypnotism?" she asked.
"Yes, of course...But enough of that. I believe you know why I"m here. I think Angel must have told you."
"You really hate him, don't you?" she asked, causing a slight flutter of anger to cross his face.
"Yes..." he said slowly, "I hate him more than any person, demon, or thing that ever walked the earth. Did he tell you my story? It seems not...by the look on your face."
"So much hate..." she said, "How do you sleep at...well...day?"
"I don't," Lucifer replied, grinning. Then he spoke again, "Angelus and I were the farthest from brothers you could ever know. Not to be critical, but Angelus was the screw-up of the family. A definite shame to our father's name. He got drunk every night...slept around...that sort of thing. He was made a vampire a year before the same sire created me..." he paused, "And I was the perfect son...Pretty hard to believe, isn't it?" He smiled sadly. "I think he was jealous...no...I really think he was. It seemed he had always desipised me. So when he came back as a vampire, he tried to kill me. Not tried, actually. Technically he could have...but he left me there to die alone, and so Darla created me."
"He's not like that anymore," Buffy said, "He wouldn't do that now."
"No, no, no," he said, shaking his head, "You're missing the point...It's not because he was going to kill me...I would have commended him for that. He was too much of a coward to just do it. He left me there to die...and...you wouldn't know that kind of pain. Imagine laying alone while your blood made rivers around you, your intestines spilling on the ground, and seeing that evil grin he had...I was just a mortal." He smiled slightly.
"I'm truly sorry what happened to you," Buffy said impudently, "But in case you haven't noticed, you are a murderer."
"Oh, I believe I've noticed that part," he said, grinning sideways at her almost tauntingly.
Just then, a noise was heard at the door of the apartment. Lucifer whirled around to face the oaken door just as it hit the ground. In the doorway stood the siulhouette of a shadowy figure. As Angel stepped into the light, Lucifer only stared. Angel's jaw was set, his eyes stern, yet obviously torn between the little brother he once knew and the monster he now faced. They looked at each other a bit longer, and then Lucifer smiled brightly.
"How nice of you to join us, brother," he said cheerfully, but with a somehow insulting tone to it.
"Let her go," Angel replied, "This does not involve her."
Lucifer laughed sadly, running a hand through his dark, tousled hair. "But brother," he said, "How do I know that you won't run as soon as you have her? Like you did so many years ago?"
Angel struck him across the mouth roughly, and Lucifer stood, stunned and speechless, staring back coldly at his brother. Then he snarled and leapt for Angel, knocking him a riveting blow to the side of the head, and sending his older brother flying on a direct course for the wall. Angel caught his balance magnificently and, shaking his head, turned back to Lucifer, expecting another blow. But the handsome Lucifer stood noteably close, watching Angel with amazed eyes.
"Angelus," he said, "You're getting to soft for a good fight."
"Don't call me that," Angel yelled back.
"What? You mean your name? Your own name? The one lovely mother gave you before I killed her?" He smiled again. Silence wrapped around the room like a deadly blanket.
"You monster," Buffy said quietly.
Angel stared at him, his eyes filled with unshed tears. Lights began to swirl around Lucifer, slowly at first, but then more rapidly picking up. Stars fell around him, and he looked at them in awe. Willow stepped in the door just in time to finish the incantation of the ancient text.
"It's done," she said, as Lucifer dropped to his knees on the floor, "Your brother has a soul."
As Lucifer raised his sad eyes to Angel, he looked frightened and lost. Like a child trying to find its way home. And as the knowing grin was wiped off his handsome face, he saw his brother and smiled. All was forgiven.
