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He was buried quickly, as was the custom in those days. I watched him rise that night with the pride that any mother knows when her child is born. He was perfect. Even more handsome now that the burdens of mortality were taken away. I understood when he chose his family as his first meal. He would realise in time that they had no longer mattered, but then he just wanted revenge on the people who had hurt him so. He took the lives of many villagers that night. I didn't mind. He needed the release, and in those days it was easier to get away with. He was wild. I had never seen such a natural killer before. I named my newborn 'Angelus', for to me he was an angel. He was full of passion and instinct, like a beast. I knew then that we would be so much more than Sire and Childe. When the Master took my life and gave me this one, he became my father, never my lover. I had always hoped to change his mind, but he continued to reject me. I ran away vowing never to return, but now I knew I would, with my baby and lover in tow.
We cut a swathe through Europe and the Indies, Angelus becoming more and more twisted in his pleasures until I had difficulty keeping pace with him. Sometimes, if the victim were lucky, he would simply kill them. More often than not, though, he would take pleasure in torturing the prey until they broke. He was like a child sometimes, tearing the wings from butterflies and challenging them to fly before finally crushing them beneath his boot heel. Sometimes he would leave me for a year or two, but word would always reach me of his activities. His appetites soon became notorious, until he had made a name for himself among our kind. He was feared, powerful. How he shone then. Tall and strong and a mighty warrior, he feared no-one - even the Master. Although he defied my Sire, the Master was proud of his grandchilde.
I think that things first began to sour in England. During the reign of Queen Victoria, England was the centre of the world, so it was only fitting that we spend time there, savouring the flavour of Imperialism. I don't know where he found her but one day he came to me and said that he had a marvellous plan. To take a child who had the sight and make her ours - well, his anyway. He was so taken with the idea that I allowed his enthusiasm to sway me. He took the girl slowly, starting with her confessor, then her family. She stayed with us and Angelus carefully, almost lovingly, drove the child insane. Once he had cracked her fragile grip on reality, he made her one of us. She would prove to be extremely useful later, but at the time I found her annoying. She clung to Angelus all the time, never allowing us time for intimacy. It was around then that I realised that the nature of our relationship had changed. I may have been Angelus' Sire, but I needed him far more than he would ever need me. Jealousy made me hate Drusilla even more. Angelus indulged her constantly, even allowing her to share our bed occasionally. It was never enough for her though. One day she brought home a new toy. His name was William. He was a wonderful find for her. Charming, handsome and completely devoted to her. He adored Angelus and tried to please him at every turn. Angelus for his part loathed the boy, and took pleasure in belittling him whenever he could. Although his feelings for Drusilla had been mainly paternal, he despised competition of any kind, and this young blood vying for his childe's attention did nothing for his humour. Eventually William turned on Angelus and their frequent fights became more vicious than any I have ever seen. Invariably Angelus won, but that served only to make William, or 'Spike' as he was now known, even more determined to best him.
Our unsavoury little foursome returned to Europe shortly afterwards. Drusilla and Spike left to travel through Spain, for which I was truly grateful. Angelus begrudged giving his prized possession to his young rival, but I soon found new ways to keep his interest and he allowed them to leave with his blessing.
I suppose I must have loved him very much, to have suffered his dalliances without complaint. His appetite was almost unquenchable and it took all of my skill in that area to bind him to me still. In Romania, I pulled out all the stops in my bid to keep him satisfied.
The second I laid eyes on the girl, I knew how much he would enjoy her. She was pure and virginal, just the way he liked them. When I approached her she seemed to know what I was almost instantly, and her fear excited me even more. I bound her and presented her to Angelus. As I had predicted, he loved his gift. Her terror at seeing us both as we truly were was a strong aphrodisiac, and our lovemaking was more passionate than it had been in years. I was swept away by his passion and gratitude and we kept the girl with us for fully three days, tormented and terrified. Occasionally, we would free her mouth and allow her to beg for her life, but mostly we just watched her eyes, filled with horror and madness, follow us around the room. When Angelus finally took her life, he wept tears of joy. I marvelled at this creature that I had created. He was the perfect childe, the perfect vampire, and the perfect mate.
It was some two weeks after the girl's death and Angelus had been out hunting in the woods. He was a good deal later than expected and I was fearful that he would not return. When he did, I knew straight away that something was wrong. He told me what had happened in stammering sentances. Those filthy, thrice-damned gypsies - may they burn in the deepest pits of Hell - had captured my childe's human soul and replaced it in his vampire's body. Filled with regret and remorse, he pushed me away and ran from my side.
I didn't see him again for three years. We were in China, Spike, Drusilla, and I, when I sensed a familiar presence. The thought of seeing him again filled me with joy. My Angelus. Home again. When I finally saw him, it struck me to my heart to see what had become of him. He was filthy and trembling and lost. He tried to behave as the old Angelus, but I knew that our roles had reversed once more. He needed me again. We bathed him and gave him fresh clothing, and to the untrained eye, he was restored to his former glory. I could feel the weakness in him, though, and it sickened me. My love who had once been so powerful and perfect could not even bring himself to feed properly. Spike, I think, realised then change in his Grandsire almost as quickly as I had. He was always a bright boy. He had finally managed to realise his ambition and kill a slayer, and he flaunted his newly confirmed power before Angelus in an orgy of revenge for the taunts and beatings he had endured at my lover's hands. Angelus tried to prove himself to me one final time, but when I tested him, he fled. It was not - is not - within me to pity him. I merely set about trying to forget him.
I returned to my Sire's side, leaving Spike and Drusilla to their own devices. I thought I had seen the last of my wayward childe. It was not to be so.
Almost a century passed before I saw him again. The Master was waiting to free himself. I was there, of course, helping him fulfil the prophecy. The town of Sunnydale proved a poor choice though. They had a Slayer. Not just any slayer either. The girl who was destined to kill my Sire. Buffy. Stupid name. I almost had her, when I felt myself impaled on a stake. Who had done this to me? I turned to see my childe. I called his name, then. He was still beautiful, but no longer mine. The last thing I remember is his eyes. So deep. So full of ... pity.
So here I am again. First alive, then dead, then alive again. Drusilla came to the rescue of her 'Grandmother', proving to be useful at last. Angelus is here too - or at least the being that has taken Angelus' body. He tried to make me weak. He failed. When I'm finished with him, he'll wish he had never laid eyes on me all those years ago. I have no regrets about my childe. Except for the fact that I will have to kill him, of course.