"Is he okay? He's not moving."
Cariss glanced down at the unmoving vampire on the table as she finished the process of cleaning up the mess. She didn't care if housekeeping would take care of a great many things with discretion; she doubted surgery counted as one of them.
"He's dead, Willow. And drugged. It'll be awhile until he comes around, but considering he's not ash, I'd say he's fine."
"But—but what about brain damage?"
The redhead was trying her best to hide her concern, Cariss could tell, but she was doing a pretty poor job of it. She was actually surprised Willow wasn't holding his hand and sitting by his side.
"It's not like we'd be able to tell the difference between brain damage and his normal cheerful demeanor now, is it?"
"That's an awful thing to say," Willow protested. Cariss smiled at her.
"Trust me, that's nothing to the insults he'll be slinging my way once he wakes up. Now why don't you take a seat on the couch and let's leave him to it?"
She directed the young woman over to the couch, and pushed her into sitting before curling up beside Lindsey.
"What are we watching, luv?"
"Well, we've got a few options."
He pulled up the list of movies on the hotel movie channel. Dracula (possibly, Gary Oldman was a much better Dracula than the real one), Titanic (pass, she didn't want to relive that. Ever), West Side Story (not so much), or Tombstone, just to name a few. Fortunately the selection process was accomplished without a lot of argument, and Cariss settled in to watch Val Kilmer and Kurt Russell, while they all waited for William to wake up.
"So, how do you know Spike?" Willow asked as the movie began. Really, the girl could at least wait until the movie was over before asking personal questions. Or better yet, wait for another day completely. Still, Cariss supposed she shouldn't have been too surprised. And now Lindsey was looking at her with an interest in the subject.
"You could say he's my brother."
The gob smacked look on the redhead's face would have been funny in any other setting.
"But—but—how is that possible? He's not even a hundred and fifty!"
"A hundred and forty-eight next month, actually. And let's just say that Will and I have a certain creator in common."
"You mean Drusilla—?"
"Where did you get that idea? Dru, turn anyone? Funny joke, the batty woman couldn't even take care of herself! No, Angelus."
"But—that can't be—I mean—everything I've heard of you says you're like, ancient. How can you-?"
"Well, Willow, when a vampire finds someone that they want to make immortal, they-"
"I know how vampires are made!" the redhead sputtered indignantly. "But how did, I mean you—what are you?"
"I was immortal when I met Liam. Later he tried to turn me. Now I'm something else."
The simplest explanation was the only one she was willing to give. And it seemed to satisfy the young woman for the moment, until—
"You knew Angel before he was turned?"
1752—Ireland
Cariss stepped down from the carriage, taking in the sight of the house before her. She was tired, so very tired, but this place at least felt like home. Scotland had only been home with Ewan, and since—NO. She would NOT continue to dwell on it. It was done, Ewan was gone, and Scotland was behind her.
It was Methos who suggested her return to Ireland for a bit if she wouldn't take him up on traveling to Rome, after an unexpected encounter in Edinburgh. Once she was sober, and thought about it, the idea appealed to her. She'd probably spent more time in this corner of the world than anywhere else, at least in recent memory.
The house was in definite need of minor repairs, but nothing serious enough to keep her out of it. She'd stayed in worse conditions, after all. It was fortunate that no squatter had decided to move in. She would hate to have to evict someone on first arriving back. She ordered the coachmen to set her few trunks in the bedroom. She brought little with her, just enough to see her through a few months. She wasn't sure how long she would stay this time.
Word of the new arrival spread through the village like wildfire: the locals knew she'd arrived before she ever set foot in the town. Perhaps that was best. She wouldn't have to bother with explanations just yet; their speculation would be more than sufficient until she decided what story to tell. She'd been away from Ireland for nearly twenty years, which should be long enough that she wouldn't be remembered by most, but if she was recognized…
"And what would such a lovely colleen be doing walking about town by herself?"
The words were only barely slurred, which was impressive, given the state of the man Cariss spun around to face. Hair coming out of its queue, shirt hanging open and—was that a bloodstain?—and smelling of a distillery; Cariss didn't think it was possible for a man to make a worse first impression. There was something about the eyes, though. He looked familiar, and he was looking at her as if he knew her face.
"Ye must allow me to escort you to yer destination."
"I'm not in need of an escort, thank you."
She certainly didn't want a drunken Irishman following her around. No matter how pretty he might be.
"But I must insist. Me Ma would never forgive me did I allow a lovely lady such as yerself to wander around unescorted. Now where was it ye were headin'?"
He was persistent, for someone so intoxicated, she would give him that. And something in the eyes—he reminded her of Ewan.
"Where are my manners? I'm Liam."
"Moira."
B-B-B-B
"Liam?"
She'd heard of the fight between father and son; the family's maid was probably the biggest gossip in the town, and she'd run to tell every friend she possessed what had transpired this morning. Cariss learned of it when her own maid returned from the butcher, and she knew immediately that he would be at the tavern, getting as drunk as whatever funds he had on him would allow. She was proven correct when she found him already well in his cups, and pulled him away.
"Moira, love, did ye come to help me celebrate?"
Gods help her; she knew she should have just left him in the street the first time she ever ran into him, more than a year ago. But she hadn't been able to do it, not when she did actually remember the small boy with unruly black hair that used to delight in mischief when she was here last. That boy had held such life, such promise, and while the man might not hold much more than alcohol, that life still held much promise. He seemed to simply lack any real direction for that life.
"I'd say you've already celebrated enough, Liam."
She shook her head at the keeper when he called for another drink, a silent warning in her eyes. He wisely refused to serve any more, and Cariss pulled Liam from his seat and all but carried him out of the tavern.
"C'mon then, lad. It's time you had more than spirits in you."
"There was food back there, colleen."
"There was wine back there, idjit."
She manhandled him into the carriage, and ordered her manservant to point the horses home.
"Ye always take care of me, don't you colleen? Even when I was a boy. Ye must be one of the Faerie folk."
She stilled as he leaned against her, resting his head on her chest. He remembered her?
"My own Faerie."
He couldn't have been more than five when she was here. How could he remember? His hands, which she'd been pushing away as they roamed the silk of her dress, fell limply, and she looked down to see that he'd passed out.
It took herself and her manservant to haul the slumbering giant up the stairs to the guest room, with the maid staring, wide-eyed, as she pulled back the blanket and sheet. Cariss dismissed them both as she set about removing Liam's shoes. He looked so innocent as he slept, but she knew that the reputation that had started the familial argument was well earned. She wouldn't have him harassing her servants.
"So beautiful, my Faerie," he murmured, catching her hand as she attempted to pull away.
"You need rest, Liam."
"Stay with me then, Faerie."
It was surprising to learn that even drunk he was physically stronger than she was, and he pulled her down onto the bed with him. She cringed when he leaned in to kiss her, the alcohol wafting from his breath.
"Liam, you're drunk."
"Not so drunk I don't know what I'm doing, Faerie. D'ye have any idea how long I've wanted ye, Moira?"
He rolled over so that he was pinning her with his body. Cariss pushed, but he wouldn't budge. Still, he wasn't holding her roughly, and she had the feeling that if she truly protested he would release her. The question was whether she really wanted to protest. Liam was a beautiful young man and it had been so very long since she'd been close with another like this. No, she didn't want to protest.
"I've wanted ye since I first laid eyes on ye."
She woke alone, and it was already full dark. She couldn't say what woke her, but she quickly dressed and hurried down the stairs. A feeling, that something had gone far wrong.
"Mistress! I didn't expect you to wake tonight!"
"When did Liam leave, Fiona?"
"He left not two hours ago, ma'am. He left this for you."
She took the sheet of parchment the young woman held out to her, and stood beside the lamp to see as she unfolded it. A drawing of her, sleeping. Liam had captured her likeness exactly. How long had he watched her sleep before he left her? This was not the work of only a few minutes. Her eye was drawn down to the less than meticulous script at the bottom of the sheet.
'I've wanted ye since I first laid eyes on ye, Faerie. But you're far too sweet an angel for such a devil as I. Find one who deserves ye. Your Liam.'
She fought the urge to crumple the parchment. The dear, sweet fool. As if she had any illusions as to the man's character. As if she could be an angel after all the things she'd done in her lifetimes.
She wouldn't go after him tonight. He was likely back at the tavern, and if they were going to have the discussion they needed, he must be sober. No, she would go to see him tomorrow afternoon.
Her note received no response. Not even from Liam's father. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong, and saddled her horse. She was in too much of a hurry to wait for the carriage, and was not at all concerned with the opinion of the villagers who might see her. She tarried only long enough to ensure that she had her pistol and her sword before swinging herself up into the saddle and pointing the animal in the direction of Liam's family home.
The door was open, a bad sign. The silence was a worse one. It was not yet nine o'clock, the family shouldn't all be sleeping. Cariss approached the house cautiously, her hand on the pistol she held in the folds of her skirt.
"Hello the house!"
No answer. The sinking feeling only intensified as she stepped into the doorway and peered inside. They were all dead. The servants, Liam's parents, even his beloved little sister. The blood everywhere was a sure sign that this was no robbery. The girl's neck had puncture wounds.
"What brings ye here, Faerie?"
Cariss spun around. She hadn't heard Liam approach, and for a moment wondered how he'd managed to escape the attack, until she saw him. Blood stained his cravat, and the ridges on his face—
"Oh Liam, no."
"Ye know what I am? And how would ye be knowing that, then?"
"You murdered your family, Liam."
"You haven't answered my question, Moira."
"You're hardly the first vampire I've encountered, Liam."
He advanced on her, slowly, and she circled around, keeping the table between them.
"What's this then? Dessert?"
She was grabbed from behind. This had to be Liam's maker, a woman, judging by the voice. Cariss slowly pulled back the hammer on the pistol, hoping it wouldn't be heard as Liam and the woman began arguing.
"Enough of this, Angelus! Take her, or I will."
With a rough shove, Cariss was pushed forward into the arms of the stranger who bore Liam's face. She spun around quickly, bringing the pistol up and pulling the trigger, pointed directly at the woman's stomach. It wouldn't kill the bitch, unfortunately, but it would keep her down long enough to get away.
"You do have a temper on you, don't you Moira?"
She was pulled back against a firm body, and she felt along until she reached his dagger, her movement unnoticed as Liam nuzzled against her neck, his fangs just barely grazing the skin.
"I'm so sorry, my Liam," she whispered, before using millennia of strength and maneuvering to turn and plunge the dagger deep into his chest. She couldn't bring herself to kill him, so she pushed him away and ran out of the house, vaulting onto her waiting horse and riding off. If there was anything left of Liam in that monster, he might let her go for sentimentality's sake, but the blonde bitch would want her blood, and she didn't intend to wait around to give it to them.
"I knew him."
She was surprised to find tears streaming unchecked down the human girl's cheek as she broke out of the memory she'd apparently been sharing. Funny, she hadn't intended to actually tell anyone about that. Even more surprising were the tears spilling out of her own eyes, and she hastily wiped them away.
"At any rate, I ran into him again about forty years later, and he decided to try to turn me."
"So you knew Darla, and Drusilla."
If she'd known that this was going to turn into a history lesson, she might have just done the surgery herself, or enlisted Lindsey's help.
"What the bloody hell did you sodding people do to me?!"
Everyone looked over at the blonde vampire, who was now sitting up and cursing.
"What the hell did you do to my hair?!"
He looked furious, which had Willow just a little bit concerned. Cariss, however, simple gave the vampire a single raised eyebrow, and a look that said she was less than impressed with his theatrics.
"Oh good, you're awake. We're watching Tombstone."
The blonde continued his grumbling as he slid off the table and walked, a bit shakily, into the living room. He gave a single glare at the man sitting beside Cariss.
"I've seen you somewhere before."
Lindsey shook his head.
"I don't think we've met."
"I've seen you."
"Relax Will, he's here with me. Now why don't you sit down and watch the movie?"
He sat down to do exactly that, and for another hour they just watched, engrossed, until a muffled explosion sent them all into action. Smoke filled the room as Cariss pushed both Lindsey and Willow towards the bedroom. Odds were they weren't the ones these people were looking for. William was on his feet, fangs already bared, as an indistinguishable number of people spilled into the room. Cariss was reaching for her sword when the world went black.
B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B
When she came to, she had to close her eyes against the glare of bright lights. When she tried to push herself up to a sitting position, she realized she was strapped down to this table, or bed, or whatever it was. Not good. And her hands were cuffed behind her back. Even worse. Whoever was responsible for this would be a dead man when she got free.
"Will? You there?"
A groan was her only answer, and she slowly opened her eyes to take a look around. William was strapped down to another table.
"I'm getting more than a little tired of being knocked out and waking up a science experiment. The good news is the surgery worked; I've got my bite back. Took down at least one of those bastards before they got me."
"Do you know where we are?"
The more she looked around the room, the more she had to consider that Robert might have been right. They were definitely in some sort of lab, and she couldn't imagine there were too many of those around Sunnydale, let alone one where they could just haul in abductees. The underground government building conspiracy theory was looking more and more likely. At least they were alone in the room, for the moment. Unless someone was lurking in a corner that they couldn't see.
"Not a clue. Red and your boyfriend?"
"Hopefully they got out. I pushed them to the bedroom."
If they weren't alright…
"Any idea why we were taken?"
"I have an idea, but you're not going to like it."
Confirmation from Wolfram and Hart that the book was missing was just too much of a damned coincidence. No, Cariss was pretty sure that someone had taken it upon themselves to try to bring a certain prophecy to fruition. They needed to get out of here, now, before these fools managed to kill William.
"Can you move at all?"
She heard the sounds of struggling, and looked over to see the vampire straining against his bonds.
"You'll only hurt yourself if you continue to do that."
They both turned at the voice that addressed them as the door opened, and a man stepped in. Cariss didn't recognize, but her eyes widened when she saw the tattoo on his wrist.
"You're a damned Watcher?!"
The man continued to advance on the two of them, a look of distaste on his face.
"Former Watcher, Exalted One. And I do regret the circumstances that bring you here like this."
"Let me go now, and I give you a painless death."
"I cannot, forgive me."
The strange thing was that he did actually look apologetic.
"You have seen the darkness that encroaches on us, Exalted One. You will bear the one who will defeat it, and it is more necessary than ever. Your child will be the savior of humanity. And now we have all the pieces, the prophecy can be fulfilled."
"You're a fool, to believe that ridiculous prophecy. I can't have children!"
"And yet you will. From the line of Aurelius, Ancient Immortal Vampire, two become three and the third shall be the one anticipated at world's end."
"Did you miss the part where this thing called for two Immortal vampires? There's only one in existence you asshole! This isn't going to work!
For the love of all that was holy, this fool really intended to try to impregnate her. The Watchers really thought they could get her pregnant to fulfill a prophecy and then what, take her child? She was going to kill this man.
"Now that we have the Aurelius vampire, we can begin."
"You can't turn a vampire into an Immortal, bastard!"
They would kill William with whatever they attempted to do to him, she was sure of it. There was no way to make a vampire Immortal, and they had to be insane to consider trying it. They should know that, as much as they studied both Immortals and demons.
All those vampires missing, probably dead, and for this? She had no doubt that this lunatic was behind all of the disappearances. How many had he killed for this damned prophecy?
"You misunderstand, Exalted One (and if she wasn't going to kill the human for kidnapping her, she was definitely going to kill him for his continued use of that ridiculous title). The vampire's blood will be used to create your chosen mate."
"Well I'm not choosing a mate, you fucking lunatic, so go to hell!"
"Your chosen has been waiting for you. And now the two of you will fulfill the prophecy that will save the human race from all demons."
Was he really saying that they had some Immortal in their clutches? Oh gods, had they managed to capture Lindsey as well? Where were they keeping him?
"If you've touched a hair on his head I will rip out your liver and make you eat it as you die!"
"He is unharmed, Exalted One, as you see."
Cariss turned her head at the sound of heavy footsteps getting closer, and a shape she couldn't quite see clearly through the windows approached. The only thing she knew for certain as they drew closer was that whoever was coming was too tall to be Lindsey, so perhaps he and Willow had managed to escape. She fervently hoped so. All thought seemed to freeze when she saw exactly who had entered the room. She recognized that flaming red hair, and on a man that tall…..but it shouldn't be possible.
"Ewan?"