Chapter 11 – Thursday, Standard Reality

The next morning started in the routine which was becoming familiar to Buffy. She got up and made sure her sister got off to school. Spike was sleeping. He got up again after she went to sleep and had gone out for a prowl', as he called it. He did his best to keep out of sight of the newcomers, but had found a couple of demon bars where he had discretely asked some questions. He hadn't learned anything new, but had had some confirmation of what he suspected.

Having dispensed with the round of morning chores, Buffy found herself reading the local newspaper. She hadn't expected anything pertaining to the new vampire problem to be covered there – even in her own reality it tended not to report that sort of thing, so she was surprised when she saw the lead story. That made it clear that a number of people had disappeared the previous night. The number was low – Buffy suspected that was because a lot of disappearances were not reported when the paper went to press. The reason for the report, was that the daughter of the newspaper's manager – a sixteen-year-old girl – was one of those who had gone. Sarah Meddows had been working on a project at school. It was after hours, but she and some friends had permission to stay late and finish. But when her father went to collect her, he had found the school deserted. The three students, one teacher and the caretaker who should have been there, were all gone. There was evidence of a struggle.

At the warehouse, Dominic was surveying his farm. He had sent most of his host out of town last night to bring back some stock from further afield. The others had hunted locally. He now had just over a hundred captives. They were held in pens and were all lying on crude beds. At present, there were four to a pen, but that would change. The basement almost had a hospital atmosphere as all the captives were on beds with drips in their arms. They had all been partially drained last night, and were on intravenous iron. Dominic had made a point of turning a number of doctors and their job was to keep the stock healthy. As he toured, he pointed out a number of females to his attendant, the doctor in charge of his stock. These were the ones who would shortly be spared from providing blood for his clan. These were the ones who would produce the next generation.

Sarah gradually regained consciousness. She felt dizzy and ill, and she was struggling to think clearly. Slowly, her brain began to function again, but she felt she was being very slow. As she struggled to understand why her mind was so sluggish, she remembered. Two creatures had broken into the school. She was in the Science lab with her friends Sue and Michael and Mrs. Broadman, her teacher. They had tried to run, but one of the intruders had hit her on the head, and she remembered nothing else. She tried to touch her head, but found her arms were bound. Sensation slowly returned and she realised she had a headache, but she was surprised to find her arm was even more painful. Looking around, she saw there was a drip in her arm – as if she was in hospital – but this was the strangest hospital she had ever seen – and they don't normally strap you into your beds when you get a bump on the head. As she looked around, she was gradually able to focus on the other beds in her pen. She recognised Sue's dark brown hair and terrified eyes to her right. When she looked the other way, she saw ginger-haired Michael looking at her from an adjacent pen. She felt panic rising within her, and she started to scream, but the pain in her head soon silenced her.

Buffy read the newspaper article, and knew it was already too late to wipe out the vampire lair without harming humans. She had to think of a way to release the prisoners.

When the others returned from school, Willow went straight to her computer. When she had checked her usual sources, she looked glum. "Thirty-four disappearances in Sunnydale last night. No bodies. And it's not just Sunnydale, four other towns around here report significant numbers of disappearances too. No apparent pattern, except that they seem to prefer them fairly young – most are in their late teens or twenties."

Spike nodded as if this was exactly what he had expected. "Breeding stock," he confirmed.

When it was dark, Buffy and Spike went out together. They had no real plan, and knew they could not pose a serious challenge to Dominic's clan, but they both felt they had to do something. They stuck to the cemeteries, hoping to at least keep the numbers of newly risen vampires under control. They found a few, but they only provided a gentle work out.

Across town, a group of vampires stepped out of a large van. It was one of a fleet of vans and lorries that Dominic had obtained to help him transport his clan from its various locations to Sunnydale. More recently they had been used to bring in much of what he needed for his new enterprise, and they would continue to be used to keep the warehouse supplied with everything he needed for his stock. From the outside, they all looked normal. There were differences on the inside, however. Some were little more than cattle trucks. Others were quite comfortable. One was the last word in luxury, but that was not the one they used. Dominic had arrived with twelve of his clan. These were his elite fighters – his personal bodyguard. They formed a tight group around their master as they entered the remnants of the building. What had previously been Sunnydale High School, was now a derelict ruin. Dominic unerringly directed his guards through the rubble. He felt the direction of the Hellmouth drawing him closer as if he were a compass needle being drawn to north. Arriving in what used to be the library, he approached a hole in the floor. He pointed to his minions and they understood that he intended to go down. Some were to stay above and prevent interruptions. Two were to accompany their master. One by one, the three jumped through the floor and landed on the ground below.

It looked as if it had been a basement room. Dominic gestured to his two companions to remain close to the exit. Alone, he approached the largest pile of rubble in a corner of the room. He pulled a small box out of a pocket in his coat and opened it. Inside was a jewel. It was a beautiful cerulean blue and had been cut into an intricate shape. Beside the stone, was a small leather pouch. Taking both from the box, he placed the box on the largest piece of rubble in the area, which was fortunately placed exactly to act as a table. On the box, he put the stone. Taking the bag in his hand, he tipped some powder out of it into the palm of his hand. Pouring the powder over the stone, he began to intone his request.

"Keeper of the portal, hear me. I crave an audience with Zabrok, holder of the power of invulnerability."

As he spoke, the jewel started to glow, the light a blinding blue. When there was no response from the Hellmouth, Dominic tried again. He was, after all, not used to being ignored.

"Keeper of the portal, I will speak with Zabrok."

This time, the ground shook slightly. When there was no further response, Dominic shook with rage. Mastering it, he tried again.

"Keeper of the portal, I have the jewel of Abrokat, and I will speak with Zabrok. Now."

This time, the shaking was much more severe. When it subsided, a voice was heard emanating from the Hellmouth.

"Who dares call me?"

Dominic relaxed a little. Taking a breath, he said, "I am Dominic. I am holder of the jewel of Abrokat. I have come to ask the terms which will permit me to achieve invulnerability."

There was silence for a few seconds.

"Do you understand what you risk, vampire?" The voice was filled with menace.

"I risk the end of my existence if I fail. I will not," Dominic replied.

"The risk is not the end of your existence. Whether or not you achieve your task, you will be truly immortal. If you succeed, you may remain where you are. If you fail, you become my plaything – for eternity."

The voice almost sounded eager. The owner obviously wanted a new plaything.

Dominic was momentarily unsure. This was not the deal he had heard about when he had come across the stone. But he could not back down now. Apart from the effort he had put into bringing the clan here, two of his minions would hear him back down. And while he could easily have them disposed of, they were useful to him. No, he would listen to the terms. He had been searching for over a century for something which would make him truly invulnerable. Now it was within his grasp.

"What must I do?"

"Simple," replied the entity. "You must turn the Slayer. There can be no witnesses to this. She must be drained here, before the next new moon, so that I can perceive her fear. You must achieve this, seven times. There will be no more than two moons between each event. They must all be of the same line – the one currently occupied by one Buffy Summers."

"I agree the terms," he told the unseen entity.

Returning to the warehouse, Dominic thought he had done well. The first part of his plan would be complete within a year. And just how difficult could these Slayers be? The current one might be a challenge, she had been around for a while. But she had died before, and if she were turned, there would be no coming back. And after she was gone, the others would be recently called. They would present no problem at all. The only slight concern was the fact that there were to be no witnesses. That meant he would be on his own. He had relied on his minions for a long time, but he was sure he still had it in him. He had always been able to control humans, just so long as there was contact. After all, there was nothing to say what state the Slayer had to be in when he took her to the Hellmouth.

Spike and Buffy were on their way back from patrol when they felt the first tremor. They looked at each other. They had both experienced tremors before. Sometimes they were simply part of life in California. Sometimes they were more part of life in Sunnydale. They were still wondering which it was when the second tremor hit. This time, they increased their pace. Both had a premonition that things were getting ready to boil over.