Disclaimer: See prologue.

Chapter 1: Welcome to Hell

Infernal world, and thou profoundest Hell
Receive thy new Possessor!

Sunnydale. Boca del Infierno. The Hellmouth. My new home. I pulled in a deep breath as I drove slowly up to the town entrance. This is it. The first step towards my destiny, whatever it may be. I should take a moment to ponder, appreciate the long road ahead of me. Ah, fuck it. Might as well start as I mean to go on. I flick on the radio, put the pedal to the metal, and crash into town to the roar of power chords and blazing tires.

Sunnydale is small, and I spend the first couple of hours driving around, checking out the important places. The high school, the bronze, Willy's bar, and of course the Summer's house on Revello Drive. Looks like they haven't moved in yet, that's a good sign. Gives me a chance to get a feel for the place without worrying about running into her just yet, although she could turn up any day now.

Next up is finding somewhere to live. If I'm going to put on a human front, I'm going to need a human house, and that makes things a little tricky. I can deal with that later though, after I get the gem, so for now I'll just try and find somewhere unoccupied to crash while I track it down.

I pull up to an abandoned warehouse. Amazing how many of those there are around here. For a town of only thirty thousand people, sunnydale has a massive industrial area. I picked this one at random, but there's something oddly appealing about it. The walls are corrugated metal and wood, and falling apart – I can see a couple of big holes in them near the top. It's at least two stories tall, so maybe they open on the upper floor? The windows are all smashed, but the ones on the ground floor are boarded up from the inside.

All in all, the place is a shithole.

The building is surrounded by a rustychain link fence which has seen better days, the front gates closed and locked. I put my foot down and drive through it. The fence tears open with a ripping noise barely louder than my engine as the gate flies to the side. It feels like coming home, which makes absolutely no sense. Pre-vampire me wouldn't have been seen dead squatting somewhere so crappy, and now I'm seriously considering moving in permanently. Ah, it's probably nothing. I push open the door and walk in.

The streetlights outside have long since been busted, but my vampiric vision has no trouble seeing by starlight. The inside of the warehouse, on the other hand, is pitch black. That's ok though, because my family are here, so I'm not in any danger.

Wait.

Family?

I freeze halfway through the door, my mind working furiously as I try and understand what I'm feeling. Somehow, I can sense there are… three? Other beings in the warehouse. Something about the smell maybe? I don't know, but my bloodthirsty side seems entirely comfortable with them.

"Hey guys, check it out! We got us a newby!"

"Mmm, Fresh meat!"

"Um, Hi?" I say uncertainly. I slide my hand back, to grip the pistol stuffed into the back of my pants. Really wishing I had a stake with me now, even if my inner demon is insisting that they're friendly.

"So, yeah, I guess I am. Who are you guys?" I ask.

I hear a click, and a light comes on. Looks like one of them has an electric lamp. Looking around, I see that the warehouse is, indeed, split into two levels. The windows are all totally blacked out, and there are three vamps lounging on an assortment of broken down furniture. There's various other bits of crap scattered around, and it looks like a couple of corpses in the corner. Seems these guys like to eat in.

They're all totally relaxed. Apparently whatever sense is telling me I'm safe, is telling them the same thing. I tighten my grip on the gun. I had been wondering how well bullets would work on vamps, and this? This is an opportunity. I keep my face slack, no expression showing, even as I feel excitement zing through my veins. I swear, if my heart could beat, it would be pounding. I stroll forward into the room.

One vamp, casually reclining on an old, half-stuffed armchair in front of me. He's got the lantern – hope that doesn't go out, I need to see to aim.

One vamp, in the far corner. Lying down, looking at me. He's got his game face on: possible threat. Priority target.

One vamp, on my left. Lying down, arm across his eyes. He speaks. "Dude, like, welcome to the nest. We got like an hour 'till dawn, so grab a seat and sack out."

My eyes dart around the room, a plan coming together in seconds. I can take these guys, I know it. My demon is eager, I have to concentrate to keep my fangs from showing.

I take another step, lean forward, and push off into a sprint. My hand flicks out, and I send two shots straight into the first vamps face. He falls backwards, armchair and all, and I sprint past him. The vamp in the far corner has jumped to his feet and lunges at me. I throw a punch with my left, which he effortlessly flicks away. He wraps his right hand around my throat, yellow eyes and gleaming fangs filling my vision. I twist my right wrist, angle the gun up and fire three times; Two shots hit him in the chest, tearing bloody chunks out of him, the third going wild. He loses his grip and stumbles back, and I slam a kick into his injured side.

He crumbles to dust. I must have crushed his heart.

I spin around, gun swinging up, as the third vamp leaps on me. He knocks me to the ground, and I barely manage to get my arm in his way as he lunges for my. He roars, an inarticulate cry of rage, as he slowly overpowers me, pulling my arm away so that he can tear out my throat. My fangs are out now, the monster within my baying for blood, calling for me to rip and tear, pit my strength against his. I push it away; I'm a newborn, I can't match his strength, and giving in to the bloodlust is not going to help.

I twist under him, and manage to grind a knee into his groin. He flinches back, barely giving way for a moment, but a moment is just enough. I twist my wrist, breaking his grip, slam the pistol to the side of his head, and pull the trigger as fast as I can.

BangBangBangBang four shots slam into him and his skull explodes, showing me with gore, while his body dissolves into a cloud of dust.

I leap to my feet, casting around wildly. I killed two of them, what happened to the third? Where is the third vamp? I don't see him, the front door is still open, there's no dust on the armchair so I didn't kill him, the front door is still open...

I race outside, just in time to hear the roar of an engine starting, and see him spin my truck around and tear off down the street. Running out into the road I empty my gun at him, but he doesn't slow down.

"God damn it! Fucking asshole!" That truck had all my equipment on it!

I stand there a few minutes, seething, but he doesn't come back.

On the plus side, I've learned that guns – supported by my supernaturally enhanced hand-eye coordination – are very effective weapons. And I've got somewhere to stay for the day.

One the downside, I've lost all of my fucking equipment! That means it's going to be pretty much impossible for me to get the gem before the start of the school term. So I'm going to have to fall back on plan B.

Step 1: Come up with a plan B.

Fuck.

I spend the day in the warehouse I cleared out. The ragged furniture the vamps were using is hardly comfortable, but I eventually manage to nod off. I sleep like the dead, and wake up at dusk feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the night. I even have an idea. I was concentrating so hard to finding a technical solution, I completely forgot that this world has magic. More importantly, it's magic that anyone can use.

I remember one particular scene in the show, where Xander picks up a book, says "librum incendere", and it bursts into flame. It's the only magic he ever performs, unless you count the hyena possession. If Xander could do magic, wouldn't he use it later? And then I think Willow asks him not to speak latin around the books. Why around the books, specifically?

What if the magic isn't in Xander, but in the books?

I can also remember the demon Moloch being scanned into the computer, which seems to indicate that it's not the physical books themselves that have power, but the information written in them. And if this power can be triggered by a computer, then it doesn't depend on a magically endowed caster.

Which means, if I can get the magic books, I can use the magic!

So all I need to do, is find a magic book with a spell to protect me from the sunlight. Can't be too hard. I know of two places there are books on magic – the magic shop in town, and Giles library. I don't know if Giles is in town yet, but the magic shop is definitely there, and I know from the show that it doesn't have any anti-vampire protections. Which is a really weird oversight, come to think of it. Ah well, all the better for me!

I jump to my feet and head out of the warehouse, ready to leap into my truck and drive into town. Except of course, that my truck isn't there, and seeing as this is very much the bad part of town, neither is anyone else's. At least it's a nice night for walking, I think, and then wince – fortunately, Murphy hasn't noticed my slip, and the sky remains clear.

The magic shop turns out to be called Uncle Bob's Magic Cabinet, and it's a crappy little hole in the wall with windows that have clearly never known the touch of soap. Strange, I'm sure I remember it being bigger in the show. Needless to say this late in the evening, the shop is shut. I spend ten minutes or so trying to figure out how get in, before I realize I can just walk around the back and smash a window.

Not everything needs a clever plan.

The inside of the magic shop is not a lot better than the outside. Most of the space is occupied by the main storefront, filled with shelves piled high with trinkets and tourist trash. I have a quick skim around, but it all looked pretty ordinary, so I check out the register (empty) and move on. Behind the store is a cramped little office, containing a wooden desk piled high with stacks of paper. Inventory reports, accounting stuff, pretty standard. I keep going.

The final room in the building is locked. I hope this is it, otherwise I've just wasted a perfectly good evening on a lot of unecessary breaking and entering. Not that it wasn't fun, but, I'm kind of on the clock here. Every day counts. Still, best to be cautious where magic is involved, and if there are any magical protections, this is where they'll be. I approach the door carefully, and poke it with a rolled up piece of paper I got from the office. No reaction. I very, very, carefully touch it. No reaction. It looks completely ordinary, cracked paint and all.

Ok, you know what? Screw this. I go back to the store, sure I saw something I could use. There! A big metal dagger thing. Probably a paper opener, but it looks pretty solid, so it'll do. I grab a geode to use as a hammer, and start slamming the knife into the door. Sure enough, the inside of the door is just cheap particle board, and I'm able to hack my way through it. Once I've got the lock free, I push open the door. Bingo! Room full of books. Just what I need.

Although, this does beg a question. There's no toilet in the shop, so how does the shopkeeper… You know what? Nevermind. I don't want to know.

Right then, let's see what we've got here. Fifty greatest card tricks? Not quite what I'm thinking of. Ah, So You Want To Be A Wizard, that looks about right. I flip it open. Apparently I have to swear to serve Life. Fuck that bollocks. I keep looking, but don't find anything more promising in the english language section, which is about two thirds of the shelves. It looks like if I'm going to get any real power, I'm going to have to learn another language. On the plus side, there's a shelf full of dictionaries, so that's somewhere to start.

I pick out Veneficium EIgnis and De Praecantrix et Lamia from the latin section, and then I spot a book called Tartózkodó Scholomance Télen. Wasn't scholomance from world of warcraft? I've just got to see what that's about. It's sitting right next to Bautori de Sânge, too, which has a picture on the cover of what I'm pretty sure is a vampire, so I grab that one as well.

Nothing else here looks worth having, so now I just need to cover my tracks, make sure no-one knows I took anything. Just wish I had thought to bring a lighter. Oh wait, I have magic books! I pull out Veneficium EIgnis. Ignis means fire, right?

"Librum Incendere!"

Nothing happens. Maybe this is a different book?

I quickly page through it, looking for the phrase. Yep, it's there. I frown. Why didn't it work?

"Librum Incendere!"

Woosh! A burst of flame out of the book. Now that's what I'm talking about! Guess I need to be actually reading from the book, not just holding it. More evidence for my theory that the magic is part of the writing, somehow. I wonder if this means if I change the writing, I can get different effects? Something to think about, certainly.

Now I've got my magic books, I spend the rest of the month studying them. The two latin ones I'm able to get through pretty well. It turns out that being a vampire has even more advantages than I thought – my memory is excellent. Which makes sense, after all if I'm going to live, or un-live or whatever, for hundreds of years, I'm going to need to be able to store and access a lot of memories.

The Veneficium EIgnis is all about fire magic, and I learn a lot from it. The Librum Incendere thing I was so excited about is actually just a demonstration spell, a little example to help show aspiring pyromancers what to aim for. Unfortunately, casting any spells myself turns out to be beyond me. Luckily, I find an explanation in De Praecantrix et Lamia.

I took it because the word "Praecantrix" means sorcerer and I thought it would be another spellbook, but it's actually something much more valuable. An examination of the way magic works, including a section on vampires. Super helpfully, it's even got a complete description of the Vampiric Thrall. Almost like some random omnipotent being knew exactly what I needed, and planted the book for me to find.

Nah, stupid idea.

Everything that exists has inherent magic. Humans don't need it to stay alive, so they can use it to cast spells. Vampires use it to keep our bodies from crumbling to dust. No magic for me, at least not yet. I have some theories about blood magic that I'll have to investigate, but for the moment it looks like the only way I'm going to be casting any spells, is with artifacts like the book.

I'm now only four weeks away from the start of term. I haven't got the gem, I can't cast spells, and I don't even have a place to stay. This is not going the way I thought it would. On the bright side, I suspect I will be able to manage the thrall unusually easily. Most vampires don't learn it because it requires focus and concentration in a straight up contest of will. Vampires rarely have the mental discipline needed until at least their second century, and I have no idea how drusilla managed it at all, but it's perfect for me.

The next couple of weeks I spend trying to figure out how the books produce magic. Once I've got a handle on how magic works in general, it doesn't take me too long to figure out. The book is written with magically imbued ink, which channels ambient magic to cast spells. It can be moved, but not copied, and is very limited – the only reason there is enough ambient magic to cast with is because of the hellmouth, and even then it's only enough for the most basic spells. Which does not include sunlight protection, so that's another dead end.

Testing out the thrall isn't hard. I just stroll down the streets at night, trying to mesmerise the joggers… and dog walkers… and why the fuck are so many people wandering around after midnight? Must just be that sunnydale charm. I catch the eye of a fat geezer chilling on his porch with a beer, and try to reach out with my mind. I feel a strange stretching sensation at the back of my head, hear a rushing sound, and slam into a wall.

My head is pounding, and an enormous weight is crushing down on me. I push back and scrabble for a handhold, struggling to find something to get a grip on, twisting my thoughts in ways I never would have imagined as a human. I'm being crushed, pressed between my magic thrusting me forward, and his mind throwing me back, while I search frantically for a way in. Every moment the pain gets stronger, and just when I think I can't take it, I find a crack! A tiny hole in this impregnable fortress. I force my way in. I'm pushing and squirming, struggling to get enough leverage to break it open. Abruptly something gives, the crack widens, and I slam into the wall with all my strength. It explodes into fragments, shards of thought and feeling flying off in every direction.

My consciousness doubles. I've never felt so free! I now have direct access to his brain, and I can read his memories as easily as my own. Even more so, breezing through them effortlessly. I search for his thoughts, what he's currently thinking, but I can't find anything. Puzzled, I pull back. There doesn't seem to be any sign of him actually thinking.

I release the thrall. The man is slumped, his mouth half open, eyes wide and staring at nothing. A thin trickle of blood drips from his nose. I walk up to him, wave my hand in front of his face. No reaction. I try to re-establish the thrall, and find I can now slip effortlessly into his mind, the wall no longer blocking me. Huh.

I guess that wall was his mind.

Ah well, no use wasting blood. I drain him and toss the body down beside the house, where hopefully he won't be noticed until for a few days.

It takes me a few days – and more than a few corpses – before I figure out the trick of it. I feel bad at first about killing people, but as long as my feeding is all catch and release and I make an effort to pick out the dregs of society to practice on, I can justify it. Like my latests acquisition, a dimwitted blonde I ran into at the bronze. All I had to do was flash around some stolen cash and she followed me home like a horny little puppy. Killing her is really a public service, my gift to the gene pool. Not to mention anyone who had to listen to the bitch talk. God damn can she talk.

I get out of my latest stolen car, a snazzy little yellow two-seater I picked up from what I'm pretty sure was the Chase's, and open the door for the girl. She hops out, still chattering on about Versace something or other, and falls silent as the sees where we are. I still haven't found anywhere better to live, and the warehouse district has an unpleasant vibe.

"J-Jim? What are we doing here?" she says, clutching her bag to her chest. The air is cool and she's shivering slightly. When I concentrate, I can hear her heart beating faster, the blood pulsing in her throat. I lick my lips. No, time for that later.

I move up to her, standing too close in front of her. I smile down at her disarmingly and run my hands along her arm. She looks up at me, and I can see the fear in her eyes. It makes me uncomfortable. Bad enough that I'm going to kill her, toying with her like this first is just cruel. My demon side, on the other hand, is loving every minute of it.

The scent of her fear fills the air like the most lovely perfume, and I can't help but press myself against her, pinning her against the side of car. As I do my fangs slide down and my cock hardens. Her heart is beating frantically now, her breath coming in little gasps, and she's staring at me too terrified to move. I weave my fingers into her hair and tilt her head to the side, then touch my mouth to her neck, fangs pressing against the artery. Her blood pulses against my lips. Just a tiny bit more, just a little bit deeper, and her blood will flow.

I slide my hand down to cup her ass, pulling her tight against me. She sighs and moans, clearly aroused, and I let my hand drift up under her skirt. The demon roars in the back of my head, pushing me forward. Driving me to drink, to give in to my passion and fuck her and drain her and feel the blood flow so warm so alive so fire thrust pierce drink

No!

Control! I will not give in to my base desires. I am not some ordinary fledgling, running around growling and snapping at people. I am – I will – control the demon, not let it control me.

So I pull myself back from the girl. It's hard, so hard to drag myself away. Her soft skin is calling to me, her pulse in her neck fluttering like the wings of a bird. So delicate. So fragile. So tempting. No!

I reach for the anger, letting my face twist and warp into the typical vampiric mask as I call up the the blood rage. The demonic fury that drives vampires to hunt, to glory in the slaughter. I feel the fire burn under my skin, as I glare at the human. The human that tempted me, that even now tortures me with her pliant flesh and soft moans. That temptation is my enemy; I must resist it. I will resist her.

I reach for her throat. My fingers close around her neck, tight but not too tight. Holding her firmly. My hand shakes with warring passions. I want to fuck her and kill her, to drain her blood and beat her bloody. Instead I turn and throw her into the warehouse. The door has been standing open ever since I busted it, and I hear a crash and a scream as the human flies out of sight inside.

Breathing deeply, I try and focus. Gradually, piece by piece, I restore my self control. Once I feel calm enough I walk into the warehouse. I expected the girl would be long gone by now, but she's still here. Crying softly in the corner, clutching her leg. Looks like she broke it when I threw her in. Lucky me, means I don't need to chase down another one. I pick her up and sit her on the ratty armchair. She's muttering something.

"Please no please god no please don't hurt me don't hurt me please god please..."

I smile bitterly. "God won't help you. We're all damned here."

I crouch down and lock eyes with her. Hers are wide with fear, flickering rapidly from side to side, so I give her a light slap to get her to look at me. As soon as she does I trigger the thrall, throwing myself forward and slamming into that same wall. This time though, I have better control. I align my thoughts with the wall, and feel it give slightly. As I press against it I can feel that it's not solid. It's more like a rushing river, a torrent of thought and feeling whirling by at, appropriately, the speed of thought.

It's bloody hard to get into, but I finally synchronise the flow of our minds, allowing me to perceive her thoughts. With care, I can even insert some. Little phrases or impulses, that slide in so smoothly she treats them as her own. Anything bigger and the river will break, the wall will shatter, and she'll end up as nothing but a mindless automaton, following my instructions and nothing else. Good enough for now.

This has eaten up a lot more time than I would have liked, and I still need to think of a way to get access to the slayer. My first idea was to infiltrate the school as a student, unfortunately even though my body is a stunningly fit and sexy thirty (another unsung benefit of vampirism. You never see an ugly vamp!) It is still clearly too old to be in high school. Plus, I'm not sure I have it in me to act like a teen again.

I pace back and forth, trying to think of another option. The plae light of the moon is soothing, the silence of the night peaceful. It's easy to think, when it feels like the whole world is at rest. Just one big oyster, waiting for me to crack it open.

The slayer is the key to the hellmouth, and willow herself becomes so powerful that I definitely need to either recruit her or kill her. But how do I get access to them?

One option would be to get into the school as a teacher. I could try and thrall my way in, or even take out Giles when he arrives, and pretend to be him. The library has no windows and an underground entrance, so that's actually not a bad idea. Except that I don't think I would be able to fake it well enough to fool the council. Who will eventually show up and start asking awkward questions. That, and I want access to his resources. As a fully trained watcher he has a lot of knowledge about the underworld, knowledge that I am going to need to take advantage of. As a lowly vamp, I don't want to risk running afoul of a big bad I don't recognize.

I feel a smile spread across my face as the faint glow of dawn spreads across the horizon. I have an idea. One that will give me the opening I need, without the responsibility.

In the end, as with so much, it's all about the heart.

AN: Tenses are hard! I'm trying to stick to the present tense for this story, and I keep slipping up. How is it working out? I'm worried I'm doing too much tell, not enough show. Should I be including more action scenes?

Is Jim being too evil? I'm skipping his various crises of conscience as they're not very interesting to read, but I don't want him to come off as totally soulless...

Theme music for this chapter: Concrete Blonde – Bloodletting