Faith kicked open the door to a quaint little apartment, or flat, as Milo called it. It was a little too cozy for her tastes but she let Milo worry about the interior design, so long as she had a bed to sleep in.

Milo was still draped arbitrarily over her shoulder, conscious, but barely so. She dropped the watcher onto the couch just a few feet away from the door. The slayer disappeared into the small kitchen for a few moments and reappeared carrying a large glass of water. She handed it to Milo.

The Brit took a gulp of the water, placed it on the end table and tried to speak. "Faith...the woman...in the cemetery."

"Yeah, I'm guessing our new friend Liz, not so big with the friendliness. Correct-a-mundo?" Faith pulled a chair up across from the couch and sat in it.

"If she is...who she says she is...you're...in grave danger." Milo tried to push himself into an upright position but was unsuccessful. His head dropped back onto the armrest of the sofa.

"Just another Tuesday." Faith sighed

"Listen," Milo was starting to regain some of his strength but his words still lacked the emphasis he usually needed to get across to his charge. Faith listened anyway. "Elizabeth Bathory was a countess in the late sixteenth century in, what is now, the Slovac Republic."

"Gee, looking good for her age. Vamp?" Faith put her left leg on the edge of the sofa in front of her and leaned back in her chair.

"Most people believe so. She was sentenced to life in prison in 1611 for killing over six hundred young women by biting into their flesh and drinking their blood."

"So, vamp. Not seeing the grave danger in one a them. I kill 'em everyday. Kinda my birthright." The brunette gave a slight shrug of her shoulders.

"No."

"No?" Faith was confused now.

"She's not a vampire." Milo confessed

"So, lot's of everyday, ordinary 400 year olds like to suck blood from succulent young gals?"

"The Countess was not a vampire but a rather a witch; a very powerful witch, who believed in the regenerative powers of young, fresh blood." Milo, back in his element, began to forget his current weakened state. He continued speaking, engrossed in his tale. "She sought youthful, attractive girls to consume because it was that quality she was looking to retain. Vampires are not the only ones who can benefit from ingesting human blood. After she was convicted of her crimes, she remained in solitary confinement for three years. She gathered her strength and waited for her opportunity. She knew if she acted too soon, it would draw the suspicion of her enemies. Finally she preformed a glamour spell to make it appear as though she had died. Her body was removed from her cell and she was once again free to prey upon the innocent."

"So, a witch, not a vamp. That's why she could do all that funky mojo on me? And now she's after me because well, slayer blood, kinda like, a blood coinsures...well I don't' actually know anything about fine wines but I think you get the metaphor." The girl tucked her hair behind her right ear as she finished speaking.

"Yes." Milo said both in response to Faith's question and to indicate that indeed, he did get metaphor

"And when she did, whatever she did to you, she couldn't keep up the spell on me; the one that stopped me from moving." Faith sat up straighter.

"She didn't actually do anything to me. I am not a master of dark magicks. I was, however, taught a few spells in my training as a watcher. I performed a rather rudimentary spell to block her magicks out. It took all of my strength and I'm sure she broke through it within a couple of minutes, that's why we had to get out of there so hastily." Just speaking of the spell seemed to take some of the energy out of him.

"So you broke her spell and it drained ya and that's why you collapsed." It was more of a statement then a question.

"We're not safe. I won't be able to do anything like that again. You can't fight her either. You're physical prowess is no match for her. She can counter your maneuvers with a single gesture or word. Unless you have access to the black arts that I don't know about..."

Faith hesitantly cut Milo off. "Actually..." she paused, "I might."

"You might? So now you're a slayer leading a secret life as a witch? How very novel." Milo was more then a little annoyed, couldn't she see how serious this was? It was no time to make up stories.

"Not me. I mean, I might know someone, but..." Faith stood up from her chair and began pacing in front of the sofa.

"But? There's no time for exceptions Faith. If you know someone who can help us we must get in contact with them." Milo tried to keep hope from creeping into his voice? Might there be someone who could save them?

"See, that's kinda the but. I don't know if there's someone who can help us, or...will help us. She kinda hates me. A lot. Isn't there anyone with the council?" The slayer stopped pacing for a moment and looked at her watcher.

"The council's shamans are more then certainly busy with other dire projects and if one was available, by the time they arrived, it could be too late."

"She really hates me Milo, really. Not without good reason. After what I did to her, to B, and the rest of them. She really hates me."

Milo sagged a bit from the upright position he had finally gotten to. One of Buffy Summers' friends. He knew of Faith's past, her history in Sunnydale. She was right, this was a long shot at best, still it was worth a try. "Would she wish you dead for it?"

"If I were her, I'd want me dead. But then, she's a better person then me." Faith flopped back into the chair. "It's just, things would be weird enough already but with B gone...I don't know if I can do this."

"You have to." Milo looked directly into his slayer's eyes.

"Ya know," Faith sighed. She knew now that Milo wasn't just talking about asking for help, "you watchers are all too god damn insightful." Faith smirked, just a tiny bit.

Milo nodded, "Indeed."