Chapter Six

Chapter Six

The kid screamed as Angel smashed his head hard against brick wall. Angel didn't care much about his pain. There was a pregnant woman out cold on the sidewalk for which he and his mugger friends had been responsible.

And besides, he had a few issues to deal with.

Angel tightened his grip on the teen's collar. "What's the matter? It was good enough for the bitch? What makes you so special eh?"

"Let go of me, man!" the kid begged, tearfully. "I'm sorry!"

"Oh you're sorry alright," Angel growled in his ear. "You're the sorriest dirt bag I've ever seen."

The blade caught him unawares. One of the kid's buddies had more stamina than he'd given him credit for.

"Little Mother F…" Angel hollered as he fell.

If the kids had sense, they would run, if they had sense. They stood around his prone form, gloating.

"We fixed you good big shot!" an Asian boy shouted triumphantly.

The kid he'd held against the wall, kicked him in the ribs and spat. "Asshole." Angel was careful not to flinch.

One of the boys, a black kid of about fifteen, crouched down and examined the body, touching his neck. "Guys, Mike, I think 'es dead man," he said nervously.

The gang moved away in shock.

Now, he'd finish their lesson.

"What did you call me?" Angel snarled, standing tall. His were now features angular and inhuman.

"Shit!" the kicker turned a sickly white.

"C'mon!" Angel offered. "Take me down!"

"Shit!"

The gang ran off, but the kicker remained like a statue. Angel could smell his fear as he approached. He would play him as he had played all his victims.

"Jesus, what are you?" the boy asked, his words trembling as he uttered them.

Angel hissed theatrically, revealing his fangs. He grabbed him by the throat. "Game over kid. I'm hungry and you've got blood. Guess what I am?"

"Vampire! Mom! Oh Shit! Somebody!"

Feebly, the boy tried to push his demon attacker away. Angel relinquished his 'steely' grip.

The boy ran faster than he'd probably ever need to again. Shifting his glance, Angel observed the gang's victim come around. Walking a few paces forward, he propped the woman up against a building.

Thankfully, the woman looked to be in fair condition considering that she'd just been attacked, save for a few marks on her face. But Angel knew that to be deceptive. Most of her injuries would most likely be internal. Leaning in close, he tried to hear the child growing within her. His anger rose. The muggers themselves had been little more than children, and yet they would risk killing an unborn baby for loose change?

Humans only want to hurt each other, his sire's words had rarely seemed more correct in his mind.

The woman tried to open her eyes. "What…?"

Angel gave her no reply, as he stared at her - his mind was focused elsewhere.

Blood, sweet mortal, blood.

At first glance, the wound looked superficial but as it opened, he felt his heart rage. His senses were engulfed by his lust. It had been a long time since he had known the blood of a human, blood so enriched by life… He could almost taste it as he moved closer…

"No!" the woman cried out as her eyes flashed open, filled with terror at the face they now beheld.

Angel roared as he tore himself away from the human. His building was not far away. He needed sanctuary. He had come so close to taking a life, to feeding again.

He had to get away from her.

Before it was too late…

As he entered the apartment, his human face was restored. He walked over to his refrigerator and grabbed a container from it. The animal inside still called him to feed, to seek out another being and drink of it.

He could ignore it no longer…

He clawed feverishly at the seal.

As the first droplet caressed his tongue, Angel felt the pain subside. Pig blood could not excite his sense of taste, nor did it satisfy his need for a kill, but it subdued his hunger. Without blood he would have died long ago, if he needed to be sustained by the impure blood of a farm animal then it was to be. His whims were no longer his life. Everything had to be done for the cause.

For the Slayer.

Nothing of the old life mattered to him anymore.

Nothing.

"Hungry tonight aren't we?"

Angel turned on a tap at the kitchen sink and washed his lips before he faced his visitor. He had to give her some credit; she hadn't lost any of her nerve. "I was wondering how long it would take you," he sniped. "New offer?"

"Not really," Darla returned. "But how does come back or die sound?"

"Nice to know Luke still loves me," he murmured with a faint grin.

Darla smirked. "Don't be an idiot Angel. You know he'll do it. You have the Master's favour. Give up. You don't want this. I know you too well."

"Present tense Darla," Angel said dimly. "Besides, your sales pitch is little too close to threatening."

"Funny, didn't figure you the losing type," Darla remarked. "You're all alone Angel, nobody cares about what'll happen to them – it's like they want us to put them out of their misery."

"Humans seem to like it," Angel said matter-of-factly. "Somebody told me that a long time ago."

"Good advice," Darla agreed. She sat down on the arm of a chair and sighed. "World domination was never your game was it? You liked being an artist, making something that would forever be a tribute to yourself. First Penn, then Drusilla …they were your little human masterpieces weren't they, Angel?"

Angel bit down hard on his lower lip. Darla was right about him: she knew exactly what buttons to push and she used that knowledge at every opportunity she got.

"I can give her to you again Angel," Darla whispered.

"So you've upgraded the package," Angel's words were submerged in sarcasm. "Used to just promise a chance to see the world, now time travel? Great new trick."

"I see you've got your sense of humour back," Darla noted.

Angel shrugged slightly. "Just because I brood doesn't mean that everything's changed but some of me has…enough of me to know that Drusilla was the worst of my crimes."

"I've found a girl," his sire mewed.

"What?"

"She's innocent and sweet, and pretty," Darla said with flippant revulsion. "You'd like her."

"Not interested."

"And she wants you to take her Angel. She wants you turn her."

Angel took a deep breath and growled angrily. "Damn you Darla! Give me a little time. Sun's almost up. I'll meet you here tonight." Angel felt his face morph and smiled. "What can I say? You know the way to a demon's heart…"

"Mother knows best," Darla replied slyly. "See you later."

"Au revoir," Angel called as the door shut.

His face returned to its human state as he stared out of his window. Darla was a creature of cunning; she would have her suspicions that his words had been part of a falsehood. His 'change' was a little too dramatic. He would have to temper his performance. From where he was standing he had little choice but to risk it, regardless of the consequences.

Whistler? You said you'd help me! And yet this is what I have to do to save them? Angel thought bitterly.

He could expect no backup from Giles and as understanding as Willy had appeared, he severely doubted that the barman would be able to provide the information that he needed to stop The Master's acolytes via his contacts. He was alone in his fight and alone meant doing whatever it took to win.

It meant sacrifice.

One human girl in return for the rest of humanity…

And yet would the means honestly justify the end?

Penn had been the first vampire that he'd truly sired but Drusilla was the one that he regretted the most. Upon her, he had visited the most diabolical tortures that he had ever devised so that he might drive her out of her mind before changing her. By the end he had succeeded in creating a demon that was not only evil but in human terms, completely and utterly insane. He had broken her and he had made her. Him and him alone…

But would he have the strength to repeat history and father such a demon again?

Even in the name of good…

London, 1880

Angelus laughed his heart out. Ah, how he loved his companions, his family. He was blessed and no mistake.

And the whole thing was so gloriously farcical. It was honestly adorable to watch. Or rather, Drusilla was adorable. Adorable was hardly a word one could attribute to William. Uncouth as he now was.

"Now, now dear," Dru had said happily. "We don't want to spoil another lovely party now do we? No, we don't, so that's why we're going to teach you how to treat the nice ladies just like Angel does!"

Drusilla played the role of a lady whilst William attempted to seduce her.

William was failing hilariously. This was his twentieth run through.

"You're a pretty little thing," William said uncomfortably.

"Really?" Dru replied, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Really," William continued. His smile widened. "You're very pretty."

Drusilla giggled with girlish glee.

"You are," William stoked Drusilla's neck tenderly, "Pretty, pretty, pretty!" Once again the young vampire lost control and bit into her neck.

"Oh get off, get off you horrible thing!" Dru shrieked, pushing her beloved little Bill away in a fit of laughter.

"That's it! I've had enough of this!" William barked pulling out his scraggy blonde hair. "I can bloody well kill 'em can't I? I don't see why I should h…'ave to bore 'em half to death before I take the blood!"

Drusilla simply glared at the born-again Cockney.

Angelus grinned. It was nearly time for him to step in, what him being William's 'sire' and all. Not that the lad would appreciate his advice and if he was to work out the truth – well, there would no telling what he would prove capable of if he remembered that his Drusilla, his darling new paramour, was in fact his sire? However, for Drusilla's sake, he would keep up the charade. Bless her, she had not felt ready to instruct a vampire, to tutor it in the art of killing in the name of 'sire'. But then again, perhaps she had made the right decision. Drusilla, though a wonderfully adept murderess, was overly reliant on her talent for hypnosis – a talent that neither himself or William appeared to possess – thus the boy would have to learn things the old fashioned way. Starting with enticing one's victim.

And that aside, he enjoyed railing the boy to his breaking point; ignorant, undignified, fop-turned street urchin that he was (quite why Dru had decided to sire someone so pathetic was beyond him).

"What are you laughing at mate?" the younger vampire asked him sharply.

"William, Wily, my boy," Angelus sniggered slightly. "That's some temper you have. You'd do better to give it some length, not to mention give me a little more respect eh? "

The would-be Cockney's eyes narrowed into slits as they stood closely, face to face. "I drink them same as you," he said, his tone low. "I don't see why I h…'ave to waste my time charming any old sod just because they're rich."

"Come now, Bill," Dru called prissily. "Don't speak out of turn to Daddy."

"Don't worry love!" Willam called back light-heartedly. "We're just being friendly."

"Now, Wily, was that a threat you just made?" Angelus whispered coldly. "I hope that it wasn't, Wily!"

"Why? You want to make something of it Shamrock? Eh? See if you paddy princes are man enough for an English King eh, Irish?" William whispered eagerly.

"Oh, Drusilla?" Angelus beckoned. "Be a dear and close your little eyes? For Daddy?"

"Why?" she replied, her tone childlike.

"Now Drusilla," Angelus prompted gently.

Drusilla made two fists and squeezed them tight, struggling to keep her eyes shut.

Drusilla was so adorable in that way.

"I knew you'd lose your bottle Romeo," William teased.

Angelus took hold of the other vampire's collar. "Oh, come on now Wily!" he said cordially. "I've gone to a lot of trouble to get us all invited to this society party tonight. Why most of your friends would give an arm and a leg to go to such a gathering, you even sold your soul! So, please, none of that nonsense like last time; servant girls all over the kitchen tonight eh?"

William proceeded to whistle.

Angelus sighed heavily. "Thank you Da. I understand now."

"Eh?"

The backhand took William down, leaving him vulnerable to the two fisted blow Angelus delivered to his back. As he writhed in pain, Angelus grabbed him by his hair and kicked him hard in the groin. "My Da always told me to respect my school masters. When I didn't he would always do his best to change my mind. Discipline Wily, all young men such as yourself need it," He kicked again. "Why without it we'd be nothing more than barbarians! Don't you agree?"

William wheezed. "I… I'll bloody kill you!" In an instant his face was demonic, his eyes drowning in rage. He leapt at Angelus with all the strength he could muster.

And brought him to ground.

Angelus' laughter was low and gutteral. "That's it Wily, kill me! Then Dru can kill you for me."

"Leave her out of this Angelus!"

"Oh its Angelus now is it? Not Irish, not paddy, but Angelus… you love her don't you, boy? But you'll never have her, she knows who her heart belongs to!"

"No!" William roared. His eyes filled with tears. Soon his face was human again.

He loosened his grip…

Angelus capitalised swiftly, punching the younger vampire off his body.

"Stop!"

Angelus turned his head to face Drusilla. His opponent followed suit.

"Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" Drusilla bawled, stamping her feet as she did so.

Angelus knew the look in his blood daughter's eyes, the seething anger. If they did not stop, she would at least try to kill them both. It had been there when he'd murdered her family and it had been there the very night he'd made her into a demon. Now it was born out of her madness – Drusilla wanted to a chance to show off her new gown at the party.

If someone were to get in the way of even that small ambition…they would never again have an opportunity to fulfil their own…

"Sorry love," William said lovingly. "But he…."

Drusilla wailed back at him.

"Dru," William was clearly upset.

"You've been 'orrible to Angel," Drusilla went on. "I don't think I like you anymore!"

"I'll make it up to you bitterheart…I'll get you a nice little boy at the party eh?"

"No," Dru hissed. "I don't want you to come now!"

"But,"

Drusilla held her hands over her ears and hummed loudly.

Angelus folded his arms and grinned with self-satisfaction. "Methinks you've upset her my boy. Perhaps its best that you stay here tonight…not that you can't go to a brothel and pick up a little something if you get famished while we're gone."

William looked at Drusilla pitifully.

Drusilla shook her head violently. "You've been naughty!"

"I know pet," William spoke with a humility that Angelus thought to be curiously genuine. "I know."

"Right then," Angelus stared directly at Drusilla. "I believe that it's turned seven milady."

Drusilla smiled at her sire and took his arm as he proceeded outside.

William was now alone in Angelus' apartment. For most of his life as a mortal, he had only dreamed of living in a home such as that which he currently occupied. Now, in his new life as a vampire, it was a reality.

The apartment itself was situated in Kensington and how exquisite it was. Angelus had filled it with art treasures lost to the outside world – the finest paintings, sculptures, instruments, and writings of man – were all belonging to the vampire. He lived in luxury and now he shared in it.

Or so Dru had told him.

He loved Dru.

But then so did her sire.

The day he'd come to live with his new benefactors, Drusilla had shown him the sketches that Angelus had made whilst he drove her mad. Then, as now, he'd thought them all to be the most beautiful artworks that he had ever seen; she looked so charming as she slept.

"Bastard," he mumbled under his breath. He hated his sire, always trying to keep her from him.

He hated Angelus.

For a time he contemplated what he and Drusilla might be doing at the party or more to the point, who and how many they were lining up for supper. "I don't care," he told himself, imbuing his voice with as much brass as he could manage. "I can make my own fun! They're only killing…killing…. Jesus Christ! I'm me own man! I don't have to do what some fancy, ponce of a paddy git tells me to!"

Grabbing his waistcoat, William stormed out.

I have done many things in this life, inflicted all the pains of the world upon the innocent, but if I am to choose only one then let this girl be the greatest of them all. Angelus thought proudly as he watched her.

Drusilla dallied with a young boy who looked as if he couldn't be more than fifteen, a servant from her class. But no matter – he would be merely an appetiser. Drusilla had acquired quite a taste for more privileged blood.

He surveyed the crowd with the greatest of care. Usually he would begin with a servant himself (female of course) yet tonight he needn't worry about Drusilla's beloved ignoramus. Tonight he fancied something more presentable, something with an altogether richer flavour. And as always, he found what he wanted.

She sat in a dark corner of the main hallway of the house, sat alone. Focusing his senses he could hear her, weeping. The poor thing was upset in the midst of such a wonderful party, alone amongst such a 'fascinating' group of people – she would make him a fine kill indeed; she was rich, her fine frock of white silk and necklace of pearls told him as much. And still she suffered the pain of solitude?

Angelus grinned. Perhaps the child was something other than another tedious fop. He did hope so…

Then the sound of the call reached him. He chuckled – Drusilla was going to take the servant boy. He looked back at the weeping girl. She would keep and if she did not…few could prolong any resistance to his attentions if there were any at all.

Taking care so as not to be heard, he made his way through the rooms of the house until he could slip out of an entrance used by tradesmen.

Angelus smiled broadly. She was so perfect.

The boy was clearly a virgin and unused to the romantic attentions of young women, moaning and groaning as he did. Drusilla was making good progress, now relying on only her feminine wiles to entrap the mortal. Never had a hand touched him so, never had he been kissed by unclosed lips, nor kissed with such feeling.

Never would he be kissed again…

"Oh you poor thing," she cooed. "Not having a mummy to make you all better."

The boy was too love struck to provide an answer.

"Never mind," Drusilla said soothingly, stroking the boy's neck. "I'll be your mummy now, forever and ever and ever."

Drusilla made a whimpering noise like a dog. And sunk her teeth into the servant's neck. The boy screamed out in pain as Drusilla's face underwent its metamorphosis and her vampire's fangs bore into the wound drawing yet more blood. After a few short sips, she tore herself away and looked joyfully at her sire.

"Beautiful," he told her.

Dru frowned. The servant's blood was running all down her chin, ruining her gorgeous new red and black evening gown. "He's lovely," she said, quickly regaining her smile. "Would you like some? Not too much mind. I want to keep him then I can be his mummy!"

"And a fine mother you'll make my love," Angelus assured his child as he knelt down beside her and started to feed.

Deep within the shadows, far away from Angelus, William observed the two vampires sharing the young slip of a lad and gritted his teeth – as long as he was a part of her life, Drusilla would never be his, not truly.

He felt his gut wrench as he saw contented faces; smeared with blood. She would let him taste of her own kill. She would deny him nothing.

Her ever so perfect 'Daddy' her darling 'Angel'

Paddy twat.

"Go on mate. Have your fun, be the big man, make me look like an arse, I don't bleeding care. Cause I love Dru and one day Dru is going to love me," he swore to himself. "I'm gonna 'ave you Angelus just you wait and see. Like you said, I've got to have a longer fuse, I've got to be…what's the word? Yeah, patient. And then we'll see what a hard man you really are eh, sire. We'll see…"

From that moment onwards, William would work to keep his promise. Even if it took him forever, he would make Drusilla love him because he loved her.

She was already his sire.

And she would be his lover.

Once Angelus left them alone…

Too easy – Angelus would return to his senses so readily after ninety-six years of reformation, of guilt and unending agony thanks to his soul?

It was simply too perfect for her to believe. Darla frowned at the thought of her own blood son deceiving her and yet…

Darla laughed out boisterously. Observing the girl would be proof enough of Angel's intentions, if he would hurt her as he had hurt Drusilla then he was truly returned to the flock. He couldn't live with himself if he violated another innocent life; the soul to which he was joined would never let him forget such an act. But if Angel could live with his actions again, if he could kill as mortals did…

Then they would be free; the Master and new his lieutenant.

Her own child of darkness…

Her Angel…

Darla walked on through the sewer tunnels. The mortals once christened this colony "The New World." How fitting then, that the world should be reborn in America, and ironic that it should be reborn in the image of its past.

Darla grinned. It wouldn't take long.

Not long at all.

***

Andrew John despised his cellular phone but such was the way of the modern world he supposed, and after all he was still a young man. Being a Watcher didn't bring with it premature old age, he still had time to embrace information technology at thirty-five years.

Then again…

"Hello?"

"Put me through to her Watcher!" the voice at the other end requested impatiently.

"Who is this?"

"I told you! Its Rupert Giles!" the voice sighed. "The codeword is 'primate' Look, I must speak with Ms Summers' Watcher immediately, it's of the utmost urgency!"

Will they ever learn how to use this bloody network? Andrew thought. "Speaking, Mr Giles."

"Finally," Giles laughed. "Mr er?"

"John."

"Mr John," Giles continued. Andrew decided that his colleague sounded a shade unwell. "Have you heard of a small town in California named 'Sunnydale' by any chance?"

"I can't say that it sounds familiar, although to be honest with you, the US is still very much uncharted territory for me," the Watcher confessed. "Is there any special reason why I should've?"

"No," Giles replied tiredly. "I didn't think that you would have. To cut a rather long story short, I have reason to believe that the town is built on something known as Boca Del Infierno which roughly translated means that its built upon 'The mouth of Hell'."

"Excuse me?"

"The site of the town has what could be called a Hellmouth."

Andrew scratched the back of his neck vigorously. Whoever the man was he was bordering on the deranged or at least extremely daft. "So what you are basically saying," he spoke slowly. "Is that the gateway, or rather dimensional portal to Hell, is in California?"

"Precisely," Giles answered. "I realise I'm asking you to suspend your disbelief and that you obviously consider me to be some sort of madman but if the Slayer does not come here then The Master…"

"The Master?" Andrew cut in. "Mr Giles, if you have taken any time to visit the Council Library, assuming of course that you are a Watcher, then you'd know that any vampire known by that name is no greater threat than any other of his kind. Heinrich Joseph Nest was a cult leader who claimed to be the saviour and leader of all vampires, save that there is not one shred of evidence that he has ever done anything that would require the Slayer…"

"Pretentious bastard," Giles mumbled as the line went dead. The Council it seemed would never change. They would always be ignorant of him. However, if the Slayer was busy dealing with some vampire Warlock intent on committing genocide by massacring the human population of Boston then he had to accept the fact, recuperate and aid Angel when he was better able to do so.

Assuming that the vampire would buy him and rest of Sunnydale enough time…