1 Week Later
Paris, France
The city came alive in the darkness of night. Parisian's walked the cobble dirt roads, mostly in groups angered at the monarch. The men carried weapons, ready to fight at will.
A young woman at the age of eighteen walked alone in the city, quietly moving around the crowds of people.
Claudine Moreau held the thick cloak wrapped around her slender body tightener to block out of the cool spring air.
Pieces of her chestnut coloured hair fell from the clips and around her neck. But she paid no mind to it as the wooden stake hidden under the cloak tightened in her hand.
Glancing over her shoulder, Claudine knew that she was being followed. But behind her, there were no unusual suspects but the Frenchmen shouting 'Liberty, Equality, Fraternity' at the top of their lungs.
Hanging in the shadows, Buffy watched the Vampire Slayer carefully. She was older than the last two Slayers she had come up against.
Buffy watched the teenager closely when she felt an odd twisting knot in her stomach and a flash of warmth covered her cold dead body like a blanket.
Clenching her jaw with annoyance, Buffy stepped into the crowd, now in plain sight. She walked straight to the Vampire Slayer, who had been looking at gemstones that were being sold by a merchant.
Buffy walked closer to the girl when she made a hard turn, now moving into the complete opposite direction.
Stepping into the moonlight streaming into the alleyway from the darkness, Angelus looks around. He slowly walks along the cobblestone and frowns, confused of where she could have gone.
The clack of a heel stepping over the stone immediately got Angelus' at attention. He whirled around only to be thrown to the soggy ground.
Angelus fell flat on his back. He moved to get back up when Buffy positioned herself above him, holding him down with her foot on his chest.
"Ah, heh. Is t'ere a problem, lass?" Angelus asked with a tugging smile, impressed by her acute skills.
"Yes, there is a problem. Why are you following me?"
Angelus propped him up on his elbows and grinned. "I know what ye're thinkin', lass. Don't worry, I don't bite."
Rolling her eyes, Buffy removes her foot on his chest and takes a step away, allowing him to stand back up.
"So ye're Quod Spiritus Sanctus (The Beautiful Demon), the Slayer of Slayers..."
Cocking a high brow, Buffy tilted her head to the side. "Slayer of Slayers?—Hardly."
"Ye're after yer third Slayer, are ye not?"
Buffy nodded.
Angelus shrugged. "Aye, t'a Slayer of Slayers is a fittin' title for a marvel like ye'self. T'a great Lady Elizabeth. It has a mystical mystique to it, does it not? Honestly, lass, I thought ye'd be bigger."
Amused, Buffy smirked. "If you're going to be lurking about in the shadows, you might as well call me, Buffy."
"Buffy," Angelus said her name aloud, finding that he rather liked it. It was a name that suited her perfect—just like all of her names. "Do ye let yer good friends call ye Buffy?"
"Only my closest friends." Buffy sarcastically said.
Getting back up to his feet, Angelus began to move around the beautiful blonde, like a predator stalking his prey.
"Why are you following me, sir?" Buffy asked, holding her arms across her chest.
Angelus reached out and touched the silk of the back of her dress as he moved around her. Coming to face to face with the vampiress, Angelus towered tall over her petite stature. Dark eyes lowered to her cleavage. "Fear not, Buffy, my intentions are only admirable," he teased her.
"You waste my time with these jokes, sir. I am uninterested and I will have you know, I am quite annoyed with you. Since you have ruined what was a perhaps perfectly perfect opportunity to kill my Slayer."
Defensively, Angelus held up his hands and took a step back. "Perhaps ye needed assistance."
"Perhaps you should leave me before I am cross." Buffy glared at the vampire, growing increasingly impatient.
"Ooh," Angelus laughed and bit his bottom lip. "A woman in charge is always seductive. But I'll have ye know, Buffy, ye're not goin' to last much longer."
"Are you threatening me?" She rolled her eyes over him, unbothered by his threats.
Angelus' arrogance annoyed her. The smug look across his beautiful face was one that she wanted to tear off with her bare hands.
Buffy took a small step towards Angelus, exuding her dominant and powerful confidence. "I imagine you are quite intimidating to others. But to me, sir," her green eyes bore into his. "You are nothing but a little boy that is wearing shoes that are much too big for him. Resign yourself now before I lose my patience."
Angelus swallowed his fury and distaste for the vampiress. His upper lip began to curl slightly with an inner rage desperate to be released.
"I wouldn't turn yer back on me, lass," said Angelus in a low menacing voice.
Buffy smirked and called his bluff as she turned away from him and exited the alleyway to continue the hunt for the Slayer.
The fists at Angelus' sides were clenched, his knuckles white. His demon roared with a rage that finally came out. Angelus' handsome disguise morphed into his demon as he snarled with a wrath.
It was then he finally decided to shift his energies from getting the vampiress into his bed and to breaking her into pieces. Known for his brilliant and psychological brutality, Angelus was confident that the great Quod Spiritus Sanctus (The Beautiful Demon) was going to be a washed out character in an extraordinary legend the time he was through with her.
4 Days Later
Central Paris
For days, Angelus has begun his attack on Quod Spiritus Sanctus (The Beautiful Demon). Just like any victim that he took his time with, Angelus learned everything that he could about the beautiful vampiress.
She was focused. Rarely did he ever see her become distracted with the chaotic surroundings of the Paris revolution. Buffy remained vigilant to her hunt.
Unable to deny it, Buffy was a rather impressive fighter. A few times, he watched her engage with the Vampire Slayer, but he was left confused of why she never made the final move to kill the teenager. Buffy had plenty of opportunities.
During one of the nights these past few days, Angelus was nearly tempted to help her move the bodies of a family of who he assumed was related to the Vampire Slayer.
They were chained together and limp with bite marks on their necks.
Seating them down on the ground, Buffy wrapped the long chain around the tree trunk. She lifted her head up to see the dark skies. Buffy could smell the sunrise hours before its arrival. It was a musty damp scent that lingered in the air for hours.
Stepping back around to the front of the family, Buffy bent downward and tucked a piece of dark brown hair behind the ear of a young girl.
The chains began to clink and tighten as the members of the Slayer's family began to rise—one by one.
Their faces demonically distorted, the fledgling vampires snarled flashing their fangs as they tried to break out of the chains.
Buffy smiled with amused pleasure as the newly risen vampires struggled to release themselves from the shackles.
Lifting her eyes back up to the skies, Buffy smirked. The night sky was beginning to change as dawn approached.
Following the Slayer long enough, she knew that the teenager would have to walk past this area. Buffy also knew that the young Slayer would pass this area just in time to see her entire family burn.
Still hidden in the darkness, Angelus smirked, impressed by Buffy's cruelty. In fact, he felt inspired. He will not show her any courtesy of mercy, just like how she is not showing the Vampire Slayer an ounce of clemency.
His dark eyes followed the blonde vampiress as she walked away, leaving the newly risen family of vampires chained to a tree, only minutes from the sun rise.
He wondered where she was going to hide once the sun rose. Angelus was certain that Buffy did not go far, wanting to see her work appreciated by a devastated Vampire Slayer.
Tomorrow evening, Angelus had decided to make his move. A move not even the great Buffy Summers could have ever seen coming.
Next Night
Pontoise, France
Manoir de la lune
Entering the mansion through the back kitchen entrance, Angelus knew he did not need an invitation inside because the mansion's occupants were not human.
Angelus looked down at his muddy boots, realising that he was tracking mud from the outside. The old wooden floor is as many hued as the woodland it was once felled from. Its fate to be cut and varnished rather than to rot on the floor with the centuries of fallen leaves. The surface is pitted. Mud from Angelus' boot seeped in.
He looked around the darkened room and wondered where the vampiress would be.
Closing his eyes and breathing in deep, the scent of perfume still lingered in his nostrils. It was the perfect scent of Venellios Tonka bean. It was a wonderful scent that was so distinctly her.
Following the lingering scent from the kitchen, Angelus travelled up the stairs and easily avoided Dracula's men standing on guard of the Mistress of the mansion.
Travelling up the winding staircase, Angelus carefully opened each closed door and peeked into the dark room until he finally came across the master bedroom on the East side of the mansion.
Opening the door wider, Angelus stepped into the bedroom and quickly noticed that it was empty. For a moment, Angelus turned back to the bedroom door wondering where Buffy could be.
But before, Angelus continued his search for the blonde vampiress, Angelus moved to the mirror-less vanity where brushes for makeup and a bottle of the perfume sat. He picked up the perfume and inhaled its airy scent. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and his cock tightened in his breeches.
Forcing his thoughts and his deep desires for her away from the forefront of his mind, Angelus reminded himself of his purpose for being her. He wanted to teach her a lesson for her foulmouth insults.
Remusing his search, Angelus walked out of the master bedroom and continued to walk down the hallways, breathing in the perfume scent which led him to another closed door.
Staring at the door for a moment, Angelus counted to three in his head and carefully opened the door, never making a sound.
Library Room
Marble surrounds the edging of the grand fireplace. The flames wrap around the logs of wood, crackling and popping as air escapes.
The walls were filled with ornate shelves of books. The spines of the books faced proudly outward.
Angelus entered the library. He quickly looked around as he softly closed the door behind him. His eyes landed on a mess of long blonde hair spilling over the arm of the elegant velvet sofa.
Carefully crossing the short distance to the sofa, Angelus smirked, running his eyes over the sleeping woman. Buffy held a partially open novel on her hip. Her two hands held together under her cheek as she slept.
Unable to help himself, Angelus pushed a piece of her hair off of her face, admiring her beauty. He dropped his hand and the twitching smile tugging at his lips fell.
He found a piece of paper and pulled a small stub of charcoal from his breeches pocket. Carefully sliding a chair over, Angelus sat down near the fireplace, facing Buffy. He sat down and crossed one leg over his knee, he began to sketch the line of Buffy's beautiful and delicate features.
His eyes flicked back up to her face and then continued to draw her face. Promptly, Angelus ignored the knotting feeling in his chest. Ever since meeting Buffy during the riot at Bastille, Angelus has had this constant feeling in his chest whenever she was near, whenever she was right there, he wanted her. But as much as he wanted her, Angelus hated her.
Lost in his conflicted feelings, Angelus failed to notice the piece of Buffy's hair fall over her forehead.
Angelus flicked his eyes to Buffy. He leaned over to push the piece of her hair from her forehand, when Buffy's hand launched out, clenching around his wrist.
The smile on Angelus' face widened. He had been caught red handed, instead of being annoyed by Buffy's quick reflexious, he was rather impressed.
"Drawing my picture, are you?" She said, opening her eyes and releasing his wrist from her grip.
"Aye," Angelus sat back in the chair, looking down at the portrait sketch of Buffy asleep. "T'ere's quite a likeness, is t'ere not?" He showed her the sketch.
"How did you get in here?"
Angelus shrugged. "T'a door was unlocked."
"And past my guards?"
Angelus leaned forward wearing a widening smile that instantly annoyed Buffy. "I've been blessed wi' t'an aptitude of stealth."
Desperately, Buffy tried to suppress the smile that was twitching at the corners of her mouth. She did want to give him the satisfaction that she was falling into the traps of his Irishmen charms.
Fully sitting up on the sofa, Buffy fixed the front of black satin kimono robe tied around her front. Angelus' eyes lowered to her smooth golden legs that were unashamedly showing off. It was then Angelus realised that she was not wearing anything else besides this flimsy satin robe. Not even a nightgown covered her naked body.
Standing from the sofa, Buffy walked over to the corner drink cart and opened a crystal decanter filled with amber coloured liquor. She poured the alcohol into a crystal glass.
"It has not escaped my attention that night after night for weeks, you have been following me. And I'd like to know why." Buffy faced her intruder holding the glass in her hand.
"Perhaps I feel t'at ye need someone to watch yer back," said Angelus, rolling his eyes over her beautiful figure.
Unconvinced of his seemingly noble intentions, Buffy smirked, "Yes, then why did you feel the need to break into my home and draw me a picture?"
"Firstly, t'a door was unlocked," Angelus said pointedly. "Second," he held up the sketch drawing, "t'ere is a remarkable likeness."
His easy-going humour did not amuse Buffy—not one bit. In fact, she had done her own digging about the Scourge of Europe these past days.
"Right," Buffy said, walking back over to Angelus and sat down on the sofa, keeping her distance from the vampire. "This would not have anything to do with your objective to 'torture me'? I am told you assembled some sort of game to amuse yourself—"
"—Why do I feel t'at ye are interrogatin' me?"
"Because I do not trust you, Mr O'Connor."
The smug smile hanging across Angelus' face fell with surprise that she had known his given name.
"That is your name, is it not? Liam David O'Connor." Buffy slightly tilted her chin upwards with a triumphant smile.
"How'd ye to t'at knowledge, lass?" The dancing smile that was Angelus' face, fell away quickly. He demanded to know answers.
Buffy smoothed the invisible wrinkle in the kimono robe. "I know everything about you, Mr O'Connor. I know that you hail from a port city, Galway. Your father, Patrick was a silk merchant. He was quite hard on you, was he not? Always demanding you to be better than the local Tavern, where you had quickly spent every cent of his earnings on ale and women. Your mother Roisin was so disappointed in you. You were their chance to be saved from their inevitable mediocrity, but you just wasted yourself away, perhaps… eventually, you would have died of syphilis or you would've died from stumbling off of one of Ireland's famous cliffs after a drunken night out." Buffy shrugged.
Angelus angrily clenched his fists, using every bit of strength he had left to control his rage.
"But the one you had disappointed the most was little Kathy. She loved you so... You killed her first, didn't you? When you came home after you rose. She was the first one—the first life you took. Why?" asked Buffy as she stood from the sofa and walked to the fireplace. "Perhaps it was because even as a vampire, little Kathy still made you feel… human?"
Entertained, Buffy watched as Angelus angrily snarled at her.
"I apologise, Mr O'Connor, does the term 'vampire' offend you? Should I have said, 'undead Irishmen'?" Buffy took a slow sip of the alcohol in her hand and smiled at the raging vampire. "Tastes good."
Angelus' features morphed to his demon. He jumped out of the chair he was sitting in and kicked it back as he charged the vampiress. Buffy shoves out her hand and pushes Angelus away. He stumbled backwards but he did not fall to the ground.
Angelus growls and lunges at her.
Jumping over his head, Buffy whirls around and kicks him into his back.
Catching himself against the stone wall, Angelus turns just as Buffy punches him twice in the face and kicks him again into a wall. Angelus grabs her arm, punches her and flings her across the room.
She lands on the ground on her back with a hard thud. Ignoring the pain of her fall, Buffy kip-up to her feet and dusted the sleeves of her satin robe. She shot her glaring eyes at Angelus. "Did you honestly think that drawing me pictures and leaving me gag gifts were going to break me?"
Wiping the small trickle of blood from the corner of Angelus' mouth with the back of his hand.
Angelus growled, flashing his fangs. "Ye don't know what I'm capable of."
"Yes, I do. Everything that you've done. Every device of torture you have employed, who do you think invented it? I know exactly what you are capable of, Mr O'Connor."
Angelus roared and tackled Buffy to the ground.
On top of the vampiress, Angelus punches her hard into the face. Buffy grabs his shirt and flips him over. Now on top, Buffy punches him a few times until he catches her flying fist into his hand and flung her off of him.
They both get up, grab each other and fall down again. Buffy lands on top. She brings both her hands down but he blocks and flings her away again. She flies backward and hits the wall. She grabs him, he flips her across the library.
With long strides he walked to her, Buffy sweeps his feet out from under him, taking him down to the ground.
Buffy gets back to her feet just as Angelus stands.
There is an enormous amount of space between them. Both of them are wondering who will make the first move.
Angelus smirked and calmly took slow steps over to her. His demonic features morphed back to his human mask. "Ye have a weakness. Everyone does. Even a fine lass such as yer'self. And I will find it, madam, mark my words, I will have ye on yer knees and I will have one good day."
He towered tall over her, his jaw clenched. Just as much as he wanted to defeat the infamous vampiress, Angelus wanted to kiss her. Her heart-shaped lips parted, enticing him to kiss. And he wanted to.
Buffy dug her nails into her palms, forcing herself not to touch him. There was a desperate craving to run her fingers through his dark hair and touch his muscular chest. As much as this man infuriated her, Buffy was drawn to him.
As soon as he entered the mansion, Buffy knew. There was a strange tightness in her chest and a blanket of warmth that covered her dead body. It was a feeling she was beginning to come accustomed to. Never had she ever felt in such a way before—not even when she was with Cole and he had her feel.
The emotions that this demon glaring at her provoked inside of him, was overwhelming and it angered her.
His face was close to hers. Buffy was positive that he would attempt to kiss her and she would let him. In fact, Buffy wanted him to.
After a few minutes, Angelus pulled his head back and took a step back, creating a distance between her. The look on his face was one Buffy could not describe, in fact, it was probably very similar to hers.
Angelus fixed the colour of his long duster coat and turned away, exiting the library. He left more confused and angered than as he entered. Everything violent that he wanted to do Buffy had dissipated from his mind and this was a problem. A problem he was eager to rectify.
Paris, France
Manoir Flora
Throwing the door open, Angelus stomped inside the darkened mansion. He hardly noticed the many bodies lying around on the ground in a puddle of blood.
The scowl was deeply set on his face.
Walking further into the mansion, Angelus ran up the stairs in a fury and threw open the master bedroom door to find Darla sitting on the bed, tossing away her latest victim to the ground.
Folding her arms across her chest, Darla watched as Angelus charged into the room, running his hands through his loose dark brown hair. By the blood stained on his white bell-sleeve and the reddened bruise on his cheekbone, Darla had quickly gathered that whatever Angelus had gotten himself into, he was not successful.
Angrily, Angelus continued to pace and forth.
"How did it go?" asked Darla, wearing a tugging smile. "By the bruise on your face, I'd inquire that tonight was not in your favor?"
Rubbing his chin, Angelus continued to briskly walk back and forth. "I will find her weakness and I will defeat her," he grumbled to himself.
"Yes, well, force will not get the job done nor will your usual tricks do anything but cause her annoyance, Angelus." Coolly said Darla, already fed up with her Childe's obsession with the vampire. "Lady Elizabeth will be very hard to defeat."
Angelus recognised the sarcasm in her voice, it was very trite. "Very hard to defeat?"
"As in impossible," she said, with an amount of stress in her voice that grabbed Angelus' attention.
Angelus shook his head. "I don't believe t'at."
"You should. Buffy is not like any vampire you've come across." Darla got up from the bed and walked over to him. She tilted her chin upwards and held the side of his face with her hand. "She's not like any demon you have ever come up against. She's stronger. She is the favourite of Lucifer himself."
"Nay." Removing Darla's hand from his face, Angelus continued to pace back and forth deep in thought. "I saw t'a look in her eye…"
"What look?" asked Darla.
Angelus came to a sudden realisation and paused. He slowly turned back to Darla with a slow grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I know what I must do." He sat down in a wooden chair and rested his booted feet on the table. "I have to work from t'a inside. To defeat t'is lass… ye have to love her."
