Part 7
A soft moan leaves my lips as I wake up with her lying on the back of the bed. I move up slowly and get out of the sheets. I'm still half dressed, so I don't have to worry about the kid seeing too much. She's nestled in the bedcover and I pull the rest of the sheets over her as well. She looks so young with her eyes closed and the weight of the world missing from her shoulders.
A Slayer.
The girl is so young. They always are. How can she have gained so much understanding in so short a time.
Seventeen going on a thousand.
Yet all alone, lonelier than any child should be. I rest against the wall for a second as I look at her, wondering.
Why is she so alone. She should be having Willow, her Watcher. Has my old friend changed that much that she'd abandon this child to her own self? To her duty.
What did I really do when I killed Buffy. Was that what broke the camels back and destroyed her kindness. Has she become that unable to care for this child.
"Nice job young Alexander." I turn around.
"Not even a hundred years and already you manage to bed a Slayer."
I don't mistake his misconception. It's none of his business what there is between me and the girl. He stares at me, sniffing the air. Not that it will tell him much. I wipe the last bits of dust from my muddled eyes.
"LaCroix." I say the word in a motion of derision. When will I ever learn. He's on me before I can even blink, grabbing me by my throat.
"Are you insane child."
I try and mutter something. He throws me away to the wall at the other side of the room. I want to crawl away, but he forces his feet on my chest, kicking me down.
"Please Master." I can't get up, just stare at him. He lets me go, but I stay kneeled at his feet.
For the first time in years I actually fear for my life. I've fought for survival, to deny death. But I haven't fought simply to live in so long that it shocks me. I still face his glare. I refuse to give in. But yet, I want to live. I want to be here the day after today and 'live'.
I fight to hold his attention on me and ignore her.
But I can feel it inside of me, an urge to live. That sensation that my life is worth fighting for.
He moves away a step, giving me a chance to get up.
Then he smiles. A simple movement of his lips that scares me more than any threat he could have made.
"Don't forget caution young Alexander. I can not hold of the Enforcers forever. If you overstep the boundaries, I won't be there to protect you or the Hunter."
I can't believe it. He is granting me his permission. I take a look of her and stare back at him in shock
"Thank you master." I stutter it out.
She's awake. Her stake is in her hand and she's staring after LaCroix who just nods at her congenially before flying away through the window.
She jumps up, staring after his fading figure. She looks at me, as if asking what she saw was real. She can wait a long time before I answer that question.
"Who is he?" Her eyes are still glued to the outside world.
"Another forbidden question Alexander?" She emphasizes my full name, the way only my sire and my birthparents do and did.
"The name's Xander." My harsh tone surprises even me. I didn't know the name bothered me that much. I guess it does. It's someone I'm not. Alexander Harris. His fathers little scapegoat for all his drunken troubles and Janettes boy. LaCroix' grandson. Neither of those two are really me, nor do I want them to be.
"How dangerous is this guy?"
"Depends. The less you know, the safer you are. Of him and … others."
I don't think she understands the risk she's taking by asking for more. At long last she's willing to let it go and I sigh in relief. I take a bottle out of the fridge and put it in the heater. The machine's old. Early 21st century junk. But it's cheap and it works. How much more can a guy like me want. She pulls her nose up when I pour the blood in a cup with kiss the librarian on it. It's an old memory that I liberated from Giles' stuff before I left Sunnydale the last time. It's stupid really, I just wanted to have something that proves my old life was real.
The blood tastes awful as usual and I pull a face as I sip it.
"Human?"
"Are you kidding?" I look at her, saying it in a kidding tone.
She isn't smiling this time.
My smile fades away and I vaguely hear myself mutter 'cow'.
"The taste's horribly flat. I hate the stuff."
"Then why do you drink it?"
"It's better than nothing. You do not want to see me starving. It's not a pretty sight. For me or anyone else."
Her grin's a bit sickly.
"You asked." I snipe before moving to the window. There's clouds hanging over the moon and I hang out in the night air. She joins me at the big window, sitting down on one corner.
"This master…" I leave out a deep groan
"No!"
"Why not?
He's a vampire, a master vampire."
Yes. Why not. It'd help me get rid of him. But I tremble at that thought. Whatever else LaCroix is, he's family. More. I am of his blood. Even knowing he has killed, even knowing that he will kill again. But right now, he's probably the only thing keeping the Enforcers of our back and he's kin. That more than anything should matter. Shouldn't it?
"I'm … he…"
"Is he your maker?"
The question makes it sound so cold, unconnected, without emotions. That while it's one of the most emotional things you can possibly imagine.
"He's not my sire. His daughter, my mother was."
"Wait a second your mom turned you?" She seems shocked at the very idea.
"Yes, .. no, of course not. It's what I call her, my sire, mother, master. It depends of how close we are at the time. It's like a bond between parent and child. Closer than birth.
LaCroix sired my master. He taught me about life as a vampire, made me sociable.
Memories of being beaten into shape as he got me ready for going back into public without killing anyone are harsher than I want them to be. "I owe him. He's dangerous. Very much so. But the city is safer with him in it, than without him."
It's a truth, but not the whole truth. Not the fact that I don't care about this town or its people. All I care about is to keep her alive. I don't even really know her. All I care about is that she's the Slayer and this Slayer won't die because of me. Not again.
She knows so much. But I wonder sometimes as I see her staring my way, how much she really knows.