Part 2
Mistress, My Mistress
Chapter I
The building was old and abandoned. All the windows were bordered up. There was even a large sewer entrance in the massive basement. It was an old mental hospital in a now run-down part of Cleveland. For the vampires inhabiting it, this building was perfect.
There were exactly forty vampires housed within the old Marcincko Hospital. All of them were Master vampires. They were all strong, fast, incredibly hard to kill, and had varying powers of hypnotism and suggestion. If they sired any children, they would have a stronger hold on them than other vampires would. These Master vampires had no children, though. That was unusual. Adding to the unusualness of the situation was the fact so many Master vampires were actually together. In most cases, Master vampires stayed away from each other, sticking to their own territory. They would meet and exchange formalities and pleasantries, but never stay together.
But together these forty vampires stayed. They did so because of Her. She was the most powerful vampire on Earth. She held sway over all of them. She was the last remaining Old One. She was the Mistress, and they were her family.
Inside the throne room of the Mistress, all the vampires were gathered in a semi-circle. A small lamp in one corner gave off the only light. The throne in the center of the room was the focal point of all the vampires.
On the left side of the throne was a stack of books, newly unpacked. On top was Blood Transfusions: Techniques and Practices. On the right side of the throne stood an I.V. tree. The bag suspended from the tree was full of blood. The line to the bag snaked down to a large needle stuck into a nearly transparent white arm.
The arm belonged to the Mistress. Her entire body was beyond deathly pale. Her hands were clawed, the digits rough with scales and tipped with wickedly hooked nails, like a lizard's. She had no legs, her waist down being a tail. Her hair was long, black and luxuriant. Her face was bumpy, like all vampires, but the ridges just above her eyes veered up to points, like horns nestled just above her eye sockets.
She motioned with her right hand. A vampire who was standing behind her throne took out the needle and began to close the blood bag. All the vampires began to murmur as if chanting.
When the vampire by the throne was done, he placed the bag in metal cooler. Two more vampires took the cooler out of the room. The Mistress nodded to the vampire on her right. He stepped back to his place behind her throne, a smile on his face.
"Is all ready?" she asked. For such a hideous looking creature, her voice was smooth and gentle. Silk sliding along satin would best describe her voice.
"Yes, Mistress."
"Cedric, I charge you with this mission. Take Lucinda and Horace with you."
"Yes Mistress." Cedric turned and began to walk out of the room. Horace and Lucinda, the other two vampires named, followed him.
"Do not fail me."
"No, Mistress," Cedric said.
"I know you shall not," she said with a smile. Her canines were each three inches long. The rest of her teeth were small, almost non-existent. "You have not failed me yet."
"We aim to please," Horace said.
"Please me again, then. When you return, we shall have the last piece we need."
The three vampires bowed and left. The Mistress looked over to the left end of the semi-circle.
"Kesia, bring me my next child."
"Are you sure, Mistress?"
"Kesia, bring me my next child," the Mistress insisted.
Kesia turned and left the room. She came back moments later, leading a group of four vampires. The vampires had a captive, a small young woman. Still, each vampire had both hands on her. One vampire had each arm, and the other two had her by the shoulders.
"Well, bring her here."
They did. When the girl saw the Mistress, she began to struggle. Kicking out, she twisted her torso and yanked on her arms as hard as she could. The Mistress let out an exaggerated patient sigh.
"Do stop struggling, child. What can you possibly hope to accomplish, even if you do get free of the four vampires holding you? They are the strongest of my children and among the best fighters in my family. What would be the point?"
"The point would be that I'm fighting."
"Even so, and even though you are a Slayer, how can you possibly hope to gain freedom when surrounded by so many vampires?"
"I've been in bad situations before, in worse vampire nests."
"Ah, but have you ever faced a nest of forty Master vampires? And the last remaining Old One?"
The girl's mouth worked soundlessly. She looked like a fish out of water. When the vampires began to drag her toward the Mistress, she found her voice.
"No way! Not possible! You can't be an Old One!"
"I assure you, I am. How else could I be this disfigured?"
"Really bad genetics?"
The Mistress tipped her head back and laughed. When her head returned to normal position, the girl was standing right in front of her.
"What's your name, child?"
"None of you Goddamned business!"
"No matter, we will find out soon enough."
The Mistress "stood." She uncoiled her tail, placing the tip on the floor. With a liquid grace, she levered her torso off the throne using her tail. Grabbing the girl, she tilted her head, exposing her neck. Baring those incredibly long fangs, the Mistress bit hard.
Soon the girl was drained enough. The Mistress withdrew her mouth and used her claws to open her own wrist. She brought the Slayer's mouth to her wrist and the girl eagerly gulped down the life-fluid offered her. When she had drank enough, the Mistress let go of her.
"Lay her down. See that she get a cooler upon waking."
The four vampires that brought her in nodded and took the girl out of the room. Kesia followed them, to see to the arrangements. The Mistress looked around the room.
"The Slayer shall be mine," she intoned.
"Yes, Mistress," the assembled group replied as by rote.
"The world shall be weakened," her voice grew in intensity.
"Yes, Mistress," their voices matched hers.
"We shall feast!"
"Yes, Mistress!"
"I shall bring forth death!"
"Yes, Mistress!"
"The hellmouth will open!"
"Yes, Mistress!"
"And the Old Ones shall walk again!" She was yelling by now.
"Yes, Mistress!" Her children were fevered.
"Amen," the Mistress' voice was conversational once again.
"Amen," the group echoed in the same tone.
She smiled. With extremely elongated fangs, and miniature teeth, her smile was unnerving to those who had never seen it before.
"So be it," she whispered to herself. "The prophecy will be fulfilled in my terms."
Buffy, Faith and Kennedy were bored. Ever since burying Bane inside the Rowling Salt Mine, they had little to do. Oh sure, there was the occasional demon to hunt down and kill, but their everyday patrols were uneventful. There still were vampires in Cleveland, but they were either hiding or so scarce that none of the Slayers could find them.
So it was now five weeks running with hardly any vampire activity. The two weeks before Bane arrived, and the three weeks following his burial. All three Slayers hated the fact they were traipsing around Cleveland in the cold of the night without anything to show for it.
"Hell, even blood stains would be something," Faith mumbled to herself.
She was in a graveyard, playing with a stake idly as she walked listlessly through the tombstones. This was one of the bigger cemeteries in Cleveland, covering miles and miles of property. If there were vampires anywhere, this would be the place to find them. That was what she was hoping when she came here, two hours ago. By now she had traversed the length and breadth of this cemetery and seen neither hide nor hair of any vampires.
She spotted Kennedy coming towards her. Faith's smile was small, but genuine. For some reason not even she and Kennedy understood, they had never gotten along. They had always been at each other's throats. Making snide comments, rude gestures, or out and out insults when in each other's company. That was before Bane.
Now the two were friendly, if not friends. Their barbs turned to harmless jokes. They went patrolling together sometimes, and even ended up sitting together and talking until morning several times.
Kennedy saw Faith and waved. Faith raised her hand to return the gesture, but stopped. Something was moving up behind Kennedy, and she was unaware of it. Faith turned her wave into a signal for Kennedy to turn around. Either she was too far to see it, or did not interpret the hand motion correctly, because Kennedy kept her pace and attention identical to before, on what lay in front and not behind.
Before Faith could shout a warning, Kennedy was overtaken by whatever was coming up behind her. The younger Slayer was tackled to the ground, a surprised yelp coming from her. Faith burst into a run.
Kennedy twisted on the ground, trying to gain leverage to get whatever was on her, off. She felt hands grab her by the hair and roughly smash her head into the ground. Once, twice, three times.
Faith reached the pair and threw whatever was on top of Kennedy across the open space of the graveyard. It hit a large headstone, rolled over the top, and fell to the ground. Faith stooped down and helped Kennedy up. The younger woman rubbed her hands across her face, clearing dirt off. She spit a few times to clean her mouth.
"What the hell was that?" she asked.
"I don't know."
"Funny, two Slayers not knowing a vampire when they see one."
The voice came from behind the headstone the creature fell behind. It stood. Faith and Kennedy caught a clear sight of him. He was tall, with the clean-lined body of an athlete. His face was contorted into a vampire's visage: bumps and ridges on the forehead, yellowish green eyes, and long pointed teeth. He nimbly stepped from behind the gravestone.
"Well, now that we see you, yeah, a vampire," Faith admitted.
"So let's see, two Slayers, one vampire. The odds are not in your favor, here," Kennedy said.
The vampire snorted out a laugh, "This should be interesting, at least. I haven't faced a Slayer in a long time. It seems that the hellmouth here in Cleveland attracts them like it does demons. Two Slayers at once ought to be challenging."
"Challenging?" Faith asked, looking at Kennedy. "More like killing."
"I'm all ready dead."
"Dusting, then," Kennedy retorted.
The vampire shrugged and stepped toward the two women. They reacted by taking up defensive postures. He smiled, his eyes twinkling.
"This is going to be so much fun!" He clapped his hands together in eager anticipation. "By the way, my name's Henry, I'll be the one killing you today."
"Ooh, he's feisty," Faith said with a smirk.
"I like it. Too bad we have to dust him," Kennedy added with a smirk of her own.
Henry replied with a savage growl and launched himself at them. Nearing them, he lashed out with both arms, his hands connecting with each Slayer's jaw. Kennedy stumbled back and Faith tripped over a short tombstone from the force of impact.
Henry landed with grace and turned in a flash. A kick to Faith's head sent the Slayer tumbling until she crashed into another headstone. Kennedy received a quick shot to her ribs, followed by a jumping roundhouse kick to the face. She fell back against the wall to a large mausoleum.
Henry closed the distance between them and began laying into Kennedy. A punch to the gut, an elbow to the face, spin and knee the ribs, the assault was fast and furious. Kennedy never had a chance to block him, he moved so fast.
Faith landed a kick that separated Henry from Kennedy. He turned and engaged the older Slayer. Faith kicked, Henry blocked. Faith punched, Henry dodged and hit her with his own fist. Faith moved, Henry countered. And he was smiling the entire time.
"Oh, this is wonderful! I've forgotten how fun fighting a Slayer can be!"
Faith gritted her teeth in frustration. She was attacking him with all she had, and he was having a good time!
"You are going to die in such a big way."
Henry only laughed and brought the heel of his hand into her jaw. Faith's head snapped back. She heard a few vertebrae in her neck pop. Stars exploded in her vision. Colors danced across her eyes. Damn, but that hurt.
Faith brought her head down to see Henry fighting Kennedy. The girl was fast, her training shining through. But Henry was quicksilver. If Kennedy moved left, he moved right. If she feinted, he attacked. If she attacked, he dodged. He was poetry in motion. And this was beginning to get old, fast.
Faith joined Kennedy, only she attacked from behind. She managed to get in a hit this way. When Henry turned to retaliate, Kennedy was able to kick him in the head. Henry spun and rolled out from between the two Slayers. When he stood, he was facing both of them.
"That's better."
The fight resumed. Henry moved between the two Slayers like water through rocks. When one attacked, he blocked while landing a hit on the other. He flowed between the two young women, alternating from attack to defend, warding off and hurting them at the same time.
"Screw this!" Faith said through gritted teeth.
She dove for Henry. He jumped, and instead of Faith tackling him full on, she grabbed him around the knees. They fell to the ground, Henry cuffing Faith with both hands to either side of her head. She felt like a bomb went off in her head. She let go of Henry and instinctively put her hands to her head. Henry rolled away.
And was met with a stake lodging itself in his chest. He looked down in amazement and wonder. He glanced up and looked at Kennedy, who was watching with a satisfied smile on her face. Henry stood and took the stake out of his chest.
"Sorry, little one, no good on me."
"Not another Bane," Kennedy whined.
"Bane?" Henry asked. "You know Bane?"
"Who doesn't?" Faith asked as she stood, a wince of pain crossing her features momentarily.
"Everyone doesn't," Henry replied. "At least they haven't for two centuries."
"Well, we know," Faith said.
"Yeah, we ran into him."
"And yet you live."
"Duh. He was outnumbered," Kennedy said.
"And buried him in salt," Faith added.
A thoughtful look crossed Henry's face. With surprising suddenness he turned and bolted. Faith and Kennedy began to chase him. But, as with his fighting, his running was fast beyond reason.
"What was that all about?" Faith asked.
"Don't know. Don't care," Kennedy replied. "I want to know why he didn't dust when I staked him."
Faith began to make her way out of the graveyard. Kennedy followed suit. They each walked stiffly.
"Maybe he's a Master vampire," Faith offered. "I once dusted a big daddy vamp who needed a whole four-by-four shoved through him."
"Was that…"
"Kakistos? Yeah. So maybe that's the deal with that Henry guy."
"Let's hope so. Then all we have to do is give him bigger wood."
Faith cracked a smile, "You did not just say that."
Kennedy giggled when she realized how her statement sounded.
"Those are some bruises you got, there," Xander said from the bathroom doorway.
Faith stood, her back to him. Her sides were black and blue, stretching all the way around, tingeing her back. The backs of her legs were several different shades of several different colors.
"Courtesy of our new Master vampire," Faith said. She was just getting ready for a shower when Xander opened the door to check in on her. Maybe it was just to get a good look at her naked body. She smiled, that was the way men were. Xander was no exception.
"You okay?"
"Nothing a good scrub and a good lay won't fix."
"Well, I can help with both those, actually."
Faith smiled, but still did not look at him, "I know."
Smiling hurt her lips, split open the cuts on them, but she could not help it. Xander was just so cute. She did not remember when she got to the point in her life where she could honestly think of a man as cute and adorable, not just as a cock to satisfy her needs. But that was Xander. Weird how one year could change your life.
She turned and he took an anguished breath. She nodded understanding.
"Right there with you," she said.
Faith's face was worse than her sides and legs. Both eyes were black; threatening to puff out so bad she would not be able to see out of them. She had a cut under her left eye socket and another long vertical gash down her right cheek from ear to jaw line. Her jaw was bruised in three different places. Her ears stopped bleeding before she left the cemetery, but there was still dried blood trailed on her neck.
"Jesus, Faith, what happened?"
"I told you, I met a Master vampire. Or at least, I'm pretty sure he's a Master vampire. It explains a lot."
"Like why your face looks like a punching bag?"
"Among other things."
"Well, I'm glad you won." She shrugged and looked a little uncomfortable. Xander gaped at her. "You did win, right?"
"He ran away, does that count?"
"He ran away? 'Cause he was scared to take you on?"
"No, he ran away 'cause of something me and Kennedy said to him."
"Kennedy was there, too?"
"Yes," a dangerous edge crept into Faith's voice.
"What did you two tell him that made him run? Put the scare of two Slayers in him after he was done kicking your ass?"
"Xander, I'm standing here naked and hurt. The last thing you want to do is remind me of my humiliation at the hands of a vampire."
Xander held up his hands in defeat, "Just kidding. Seriously, are you okay?"
"Do I look okay?"
"No, you don't."
"I'll be fine. Just give me a few days." She got into the shower and turned the water on. "And help with washing my back."
"Okay, that I can do," Xander began to discard his clothing. When he entered the shower, he smiled mischievously. "I can help you out with the good scrubbing, but I don't know about a good lay. I don't know if I could."
Faith turned to look at him. Seeing the smile on his face and in his eyes, she playfully smacked his arm.
"Come on, I don't have all night. I'd like to sleep sometime, you know."
"So then what, he just bolted?"
"Pretty much, yeah."
Kennedy was finishing up her narrative of last night's events. She was sitting in her living room, Buffy and Willow with her. As bad as Faith was beat-up, Kennedy had received a worse beating. Thankfully, she had Slayer healing and most of her bruises were already healing. They were still an ugly yellowish brown, but that meant they would be gone soon.
Whereas Faith had multiple bruises and wounds on her face, Kennedy's face seemed to be one huge bruise. There was no line of demarcation. All the bruising and cuts looked as if they were one. When she moved too suddenly, she winced in pain.
"You don't look so hot," Buffy said.
"Well, I won't win any beauty contests any time soon."
"No, I mean you look like you're in serious pain, there."
"She's right, you do," Willow said. "Just like I told you this morning."
"Yeah, well what am I supposed to do? Just sit around at home?"
"For starters," Willow answered.
"I had to let Buffy know what's out there."
"And now you did," Buffy said. "So you can go home and rest. Get better and be healed."
"I don't know if we've got the time for me to get better."
"What? You want to go face this Henry guy in that condition?" Willow asked.
"No, but we can't just let him wander around, either," Kennedy replied.
"We'll go after him when you're feeling better," Buffy interrupted them before the two lovers could argue. "Then all three Slayers will take him on. That'll give me a chance to find his lair."
"See if he likes taking on three Slayers at once," Willow said happily.
"Just from what I saw, he'll probably get a chubby," Kennedy said wryly.
The Mistress' throne room was empty. With no vampires, it looked cavernous and cold. Fitting, since vampires needed neither light nor warmth. Still, it had no feeling of residence.
It made Henry sad. They had to leave their home in Spain to come to this accursed town. All for some prophesy. Henry would do anything to keep his Mistress alive, and that included coming to Cleveland. Now he had important news for her, news that could not wait until her waking.
"Ho, there Henry!" Scott greeted him.
Of all those in the family, only Scott and his lover, Clare, could match Henry in fighting prowess. Of the three, Clare was undoubtedly the best. It was Henry, Scott, and Clare who guarded the Mistress while she slept. Today obviously was Scott's turn.
Henry stopped in front of Scott. Scott was a little taller than Henry, with wider shoulders. His brown hair matched Henry's, as did his blue eyes. Scott was Henry's older brother in life, and his younger brother in un-life.
"I need to speak to the Mistress," Henry said without preamble.
"She's sleeping."
"I know."
"You also know the penalty for disturbing her. It took me three months to heal from the last time I failed to let her sleep unmolested."
"Look, this is important."
"I don't care if it's vital. You're not getting past me."
"Damn it, Scott! I need to speak to the Mistress!"
"Talk to her at sundown, like everyone else. Or wait till she gets up in mid-afternoon."
"I'll wait."
"Fine by me."
Henry sat cross-legged on the floor. Damn older brothers. Even as a vampire, he was too stuck on the "procedures" to see the big picture.
Atlanta sure was a swell city. At least, swell enough to visit. Being cooped up in a cramped apartment for the day, however, was not ranking high on the swell-o-meter.
These were just some of the thoughts passing through the mind of the vampire known as Horace as he watched mindless commercials dance across his television screen. Between the light show that was entertainment, he caught the reflection of the only window to this hovel. The shades were shut, only a crack on the top of the window between the shades and the window frame letting in any light. Harmless, really.
Behind Horace sat Cedric and Lucinda. They were at a rickety card table, playing gin rummy. Cedric was taking blood out of his arm. It ran down a plastic tube into a metallic cooler. Before Horace could give much thought to his two companions, his program began again.
"That little hussy!"
"Which one, Jody or Sarah?" Cedric asked. This was not the first time Horace vilified his favorite soap opera characters.
"Bruno."
The two vampires at the table cast disbelieving looks at Horace's back.
"I thing the term for men is either 'player' or 'dog'," Lucinda said.
"Or 'two-timing pig'," Cedric offered.
"Or 'man-whore'," Lucinda suggested.
"But never 'hussy' to describe a man."
"Gin," Lucinda said as she laid down her hand.
"Damn," Cedric threw his cards on the table. Lucinda picked them up and began to shuffle.
"Oh no, Bruno is a hussy. He's more feminine than Lucinda," Horace said.
"Not that that's saying anything special. Or like it's that hard to do," Cedric said. Lucinda gave him a nasty look. Cedric smiled. "Lucy, you know it's true."
"Don't call me Lucy. I'm not some peroxide blonde with no brains, a big mouth, and a Cuban drum-playing husband."
"Bongos," Horace corrected without looking away from the television.
"What?"
"Desi played the bongos, not the drums."
"Whatever," Lucinda dismissed the subject. "The point is I don't want to be called Lucy."
"Okay," Cedric said.
"And I can be feminine if I want."
"Sure Lucinda," Cedric placated her.
Cedric pulled the needle out of his arm and began to put the equipment away.
"I can be," Lucinda insisted.
"Which is why the Mistress sent you with us, to ply your feminine charms against the Slayer," Cedric retorted.
"Hey, girls these days – who knows?" Horace offered.
Both his companions shot him dirty looks.
"Contrary to popular belief, I can be quite the vixen," Lucinda said. "I'll have you know I lure almost all my meals to secluded areas with my 'feminine charms'. Just because I'm also strong, dependable, and a good fighter you think of me as not being feminine."
"That's a little sexist, don't you think?" Cedric asked.
"He's just still sore you picked Darius over him for that little vacation in Crete," Horace said.
"That was over thirty years ago," Lucinda said.
"He's not one to forget things like that."
"That is not the reason for this conversation," Cedric said.
"And how did you know about it?" Lucinda asked Horace. "It was supposed to be a secret."
"Not so much of a secret, huh?" He turned from the television to look at her.
"I just say 'Lucy' to get a rise out of you," Cedric stated.
"You are not changing the subject on me," Lucinda shot back.
"Well, that's good, 'cause you get a rise out of her all the time, don't you?"
"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Lucinda's head whipped around to face Horace.
"Oh, come on Lucinda, you're a big girl. I don't have to draw you a picture or use explicit language with you, do I? You're the one who spent a month in Crete with Darius and two weeks in the Caribbean with Palmer. Killing, maiming, destroying property, and making like minxes the whole time."
"How is it you know the most intimate details of my life?"
"I wouldn't call them the most intimate details of your life," Horace countered. "Now, if I knew exactly what you did when making like a minx, that would be intimate."
"Yeah, like what you screamed out," Cedric offered. Lucinda shot him a withering look.
"Exactly," Horace agreed. "What I just mentioned are merely the facts about where you were, who you were with, and what you did together."
"But how do you know about them? That was before your time. Crete, anyway."
"I may look like a man who's above gossiping–"
"Yeah, 'cause you're so distinguished looking," Cedric cut in with a snort.
"But I love it," Horace continued as if uninterrupted. "I keep my ear firmly attached to the grapevine. In fact, there isn't anything I won't spoon out or eat up if it's part of the dish, you know?"
"I have no idea what you just said," Lucinda admitted.
"It's amazing the Mistress sent you, let alone she lets you out of the house at all," Cedric said as he shook his head in disbelief.
"It has to be all that Dawson's Creek and Charmed he watches."
"In fact, if the Mistress hadn't called out your name, you wouldn't be here. I have no use for such a prattling, imbecilic vampire such as yourself."
"The Mistress seems to think I'm useful."
"Well, aside from blood transfusion work, I have yet to see it."
"Getting pretty high and mighty for someone who gave the Slayer information that led to Darius getting dusted, aren't you?" Horace asked in a too-sweet voice.
"What? You did that?" Lucinda was shocked.
Cedric shrugged, "The Mistress forbade us from lifting our hands against one of her minions, one of her children. He was hunting and killing other vampires. I eliminated a threat. And I did it without lifting my hands."
"And it wasn't prompted by the fact Lucinda took him to Crete for a romantic getaway and not you? It was totally noble."
"Of course my motives were noble."
"You just ignored a decade-long death toll among vampires due to Darius until that certain point."
"By the time I got to him, he was one of those very unfortunate vampires someone cursed with a soul. Poor guy was miserable. Didn't even put up a fight when the Slayer came to get him. I ended his suffering."
"Right. And that suffering just happened to end when you found out about their little trip twenty years before. It took you that long to track him down and give his information to a Slayer?"
Lucinda began dealing the cards in her hand. She nearly whipped them at Cedric while glaring daggers at him.
"Horace, have I ever mentioned what a big mouth you have?" Cedric asked.
"Only every time I open it."
"Then do yourself a favor and shut it. And get yourself over here and take care of this blood. You're the transfusion expert."
"Are you going to play?" Lucinda asked through clenched teeth.
"Yes, Lucinda."
"Are you sure, Henry?"
"Yes, Mistress."
The Mistress drummed her claws on the armrest of the throne. Her mouth quirked in thought. She got a far away look in her eyes. Henry stood as a supplicant, giving her his news before she held audience with the rest of her family. She had just come out of her bedroom when he asked to speak with her. She agreed. Now Henry stood before her throne while she pondered her next move.
"It would seem the years have affected me more than I thought possible. Either that or Bane has become freer than I ever anticipated. Whatever the cause, it is disturbing." She stopped to consider her next words. "You have done well, Henry. We must find Bane, his assistance in this matter would be most appreciated."
"But, Mistress, your plan–"
"Can always be improved. And Bane would be a welcome improvement."
Henry nodded in agreement. The Mistress smiled.
"And the Slayers you fought?" she asked.
"I left them alive to come here and tell you the news."
"And yet you waited to tell me."
"Scott wouldn't let me interrupt your slumber."
There was a pause while the Mistress considered this news.
"Very good. See to it that next time you kill the Slayers, won't you?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"The less allies this one Slayer has, the better. The prophecy will be thwarted."
"Yes, Mistress."
In a cemetery in Atlanta, the vampire Slayer named Rhona was busy fighting a group of vampires. She moved with the dangerous grace only bestowed upon a Slayer. Where she went, vampires crumbled into dust after a flurry of movement. She was death to the undead.
Cedric, Lucinda and Horace stood watching the fight. At Horace's feet was the metallic cooler from earlier today that Cedric filled with his blood. The three Master vampires gauged the proficiency of the Slayer's attacks.
"She's good," Horace commented unnecessarily.
"It's a good thing we've got you, then," Cedric said dryly.
"Hey, I'm glad we outnumber her," Lucinda said. "She's really good."
"Better than the last one we brought," Horace said.
"Which is why we are not bringing her before the Mistress," Cedric said.
"Tell me again why Scott, Clare, and Henry aren't here doing this?" Horace asked.
"To make your life helluva complicated," Cedric answered.
"That, and Scott and Clare have other duties to perform," Lucinda added.
"Why, aren't you willing to prove your usefulness?" Cedric asked.
"Oh, I am. I was only wondering."
Rhona was finishing up with the last vampires. To the three watching Masters, the fight was over. Cedric stepped forward.
"Ready?" His companions joined him. "I've always found black women beautiful in an exotic way. Slayers – they just add a little something to their appeal."
"Maybe it's the danger," Lucinda said conversationally.
"Maybe it's that you can't have them," Horace said, the metal cooler dangling from his hand.
"Whatever the reason, I get one tonight," Cedric said with a smile.
They vamped-out and with matching growls, leaped at Rhona. She turned just in time to get clotheslined by Horace. Rhona fell hard on her back. Horace kept flying through the air.
Lucinda kicked Rhona in the side. Cedric stomped Rhona's face. Lucinda kept kicking the downed Slayer while Cedric concentrated on her face. Rhona let Lucinda attack her unchallenged, as she was too busy blocking Cedric's feet.
Horace entered the equation, grabbing Rhona's ankles, keeping her legs from kicking out. His claws dug into Rhona's skin as she thrashed and writhed, trying to get free.
Lucinda stopped kicking Rhona, only to jump on her shoulders. Both her clavicles snapped. Rhona yelped in pain. With a sadistic smile, Lucinda twisted her heels, grinding the broken bones into the severed nerves of Rhona's shoulders and making the Slayer cry out in pain.
"Okay, already," Cedric snapped. "She won't be any good if her arms are totally useless."
Lucinda shrugged and jumped back. Her feet landed to either side of Rhona. She sat on the young woman's stomach, hard. All the breath left Rhona in a rush. Lucinda held the Slayer's now immobile arms down into the soft earth.
Cedric knelt straddling Rhona's head. He took a moment to savor the fear rolling off this Slayer in waves. He buried his fangs in her jugular.
"So, what do you think?" Dawn asked Buffy.
"Looks great. What's it for?"
"The party tomorrow night. The one I'm going to with Cody Harmon."
"Who, you've told me a million times, is the coolest, cutest, hunkiest, smartest guy in school," Buffy said.
Dawn smiled. Buffy returned it. Dawn looked at the assortment of weapons on the kitchen counter and raised her eyebrows.
"All these for patrolling?"
"No, taking inventory," Buffy replied as she separated a sword from among a pile of axes.
"Why?"
"Just thought it'd be a good idea to know what weapons we have available here in the house."
"Oh," Dawn looked around the counter. "Where's the holy water?"
"Out. But I'll get more. Seeing as it's become your weapon of choice."
"Hey, what's wrong with that? I may have, once upon a time, wanted to get all-physical and go toe-to-toe with the vamps, but not anymore. Now, I'm wiser and more battle hardened, and I just don't want to take that risk."
"Plus it's a lot less strenuous," Buffy pointed out.
"Well, there is that, too."
"All right, I'll go get you more holy water."
"I can do it. I mean St Dominic's is just down the street."
"No, I'll get the holy water. You do your homework."
Buffy picked up a duffle bag. It clinked with a dozen small vials inside. Dawn rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. She left the kitchen to get her schoolbag and do her homework.
The Mistress sat on her throne, her family arrayed in a semi-circle before her. The newest member to their family stood in the center of the semi-circle. She stood tall and proud, full vampire features exposed. She ran her tongue over her canines with a thoughtful look in her eyes.
"So, child, are you ready to tell us your name, now?" the Mistress asked.
"Amanda, Mistress. My name is Amanda."
"Excellent! Are you ready to begin your new life?"
"I am."
The Mistress raised her eyebrows. All the vampires in the semi-circle shifted their feet.
"Mistress," Amanda added.
"Good. Are you ready to embrace your new destiny?"
"I am, Mistress."
"Are you ready to kill a fellow Slayer? One who took you in and taught you how to be a Slayer? Are you ready to kill this Buffy Summers?"
"I am, Mistress."