A/N: I spent today almost throwing up into a basin and arguing about the Lord of the Rings movie with my friends via phone and text. Then I decided I should write. So here I am!
Disclaimer: I own my characters, plots, etc. but I think that Angel and all the original ideas own themselves. 'Cause they're real. Right? Right? Of course. So I dunno where this Joss Whedon guy fits into it. **shrugs**
Dedication: For Emily. Thank you for reviewing all my fics **grins** It isn't annoying, no, in fact all of you can review 'em all! Anyways, sorry about the Liam/Angelus mix-up, I wrote that before I found out. I'm thinkin' of sorting it out...what d'you all think? Opinions please.
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Keisha stared at the woman sitting on the end of her bed. The woman stared right back at her. Both silently.
What was she? She was definitely female, but just...not human. Not vampire either. She was a silvery colour, but very transparent. Keisha could see right through her to her desk, littered in half-finished homework. Neither moved or made a sound for about a minute.
She wasn't scared. Why, she didn't know. She had just awoken from that weird dream again to find an apparition...a ghost...sitting on the end of her bed. She wasn't even startled. It was as if she knew that she would see this thing when she awoke. Maybe she hadn't been alone whilst she slept at all.
Eventually, Keisha started to worry. What was this thing doing here? And why now? Thinking, and slightly worrying, that the ghost might disappear before she could find out what was going on, she whispered, "Who are you?"
The ghost smiled in a friendly way. She was probably about in her mid-twenties, Keisha thought, really too young to die.
"I'm a Slayer. Like your friend Grace." The ghost said.
Confused, Keisha shook her head slowly. "No. My friend's called Gracia. I mean...what are you doing here?"
The ghost shrugged. "Grace, Gracia, have it your way. I know what I mean. And I'm here to help you. The Powers that Be sent me here."
"What is this, a horror movie? Listen, I've got an exam on algebraic equations tomorrow, and I need all the sleep I can get 'cause I haven't revised. Stop answering half-way and tell me what the hell you're doing here!"
Keisha watched the ghost as she shifted slightly, leaning on the bed with her right hand. Her annoyance at being awoken so early in the morning drained as she watched in both fascination and fear as her subconcious mind began to fill in the colours of the woman. Her long curls became a shiny blonde colour, and her eyes flashed green. Her skin flushed with life. Her top became red, her trousers black, and her jacket seemed to be an old leather one.
"I was sent here to help you." the ghost repeated. "To refer you to somebody who can probably help you figure out what's going on with that vampire mob that attacked you all in the graveyard the other night."
"How do you know about that?" Keisha frowned. "Do you know what's going on?"
"No. I was just told what happened and that I had to tell you to contact my...friend." The woman's expression was grim and serious, but her eyes seemed to be faraway in memories.
"Then why did you come to me? Why not Gracia? She's the Slayer."
"I was told to come to the girl called Keisha who's been having the dreams she can't understand. Gracia would probably have a wiggins if she saw me, after what happened to her sister and all."
"How do you know everything that's happened? Do you know what will? What does my dream mean?"
"I know because I've been told. And no, I can't see what'll happen in the future. And once again, no. I can't tell you what your dream means." There was the tiniest hint of growing impatience in the woman's voice at Keisha's questions.
"I'll text Gracia." Keisha decided, reaching for her mobile phone, which was on her bedside cabinet next to her locked diary. She pulled it onto her lap and switched it on. She glanced up at the ghost as it sprung to life.
"Two more things. What's the name of this friend, and, once again, what's your name?"
"His name is Spike." The ghost smiled at the name. "And my name is Buffy."
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"I'm telling you, it wasn't normal. And what happened afterwards...I mean, somebody explain to me, please!"
Gracia used a round-kick on the punch bag, spun, and hit it hard with her fist. The punch bag swung dangerously on its chain.
Luke, who was sitting nearby on the bannister, nodded approvingly. "Good hit."
Cecelia scowled at him. "I suggest you concentrate less on the past and more on your training. If that sister of yours is anything like you, I put her accident down to clumsiness."
Was it Luke's imagination, or did Cecelia spit out the word 'sister' as though it were bitter?
Gracia stopped her assault on the punch bag and watched Cecelia, who was sorting out various ancient books by now, carefully with her wide dark eyes. She remembered that you should count to ten to control your anger and so she did, realising it wouldn't reflect good on her if she beat up the librarian. By the time she got to fifty, she was feeling no better.
"And what about the army of the dead?" Luke asked.
Keisha emerged from the stacks on the opposite side of the library with a heavy old book in her arms and a raised eyebrow. "I thought that was zombies?" She flicked her glance to Cecelia. "Do they exist too?"
Cecelia obviously thought Keisha's queries were too immature to dignify with an answer. "The vampires of this town have obviously been allowed to run wild for too long." She glared pointedly at the Slayer over her square glasses. "I think that that would be down to your tardiness, girl."
"But I go patrolling every night!" Gracia protested. "I kill vampires all the time with pointy wooden sticks, I mean, come on..."
"And where were you last night?"
Gracia realised that Cecelia had a viciously triumphant glint in her eyes as she said, "At the hospital. With Brianna."
"You see! And perhaps your...brother decided that, in your absence, it was time to relive the glory days."
Gracia glanced at the twins, who both looked very confused. She looked back at Cecelia, who might have been smirking had she been an ordinary person. She seethed silently, and when she spoke, her words were broken with anger.
"You have no right to talk about him like that. That's slander, because it'll never happen. I suggest you shut up."
"And I suggest you show some more respect once in a while!"
Unnoticed by the commotion, Keisha bent and slipped the book into her bag where another one already lay hidden between IT and French textbooks.
"Gracia!" she yelled over the noise as she straightened up. "We'd better get going, wouldn't want to miss that algebra test."
Gracia turned, understanding immediately what was going on. Their plan had been formulated over an early-morning text rally, and it looked like it it had gone well.
"Oh yeah, OK." She smiled sarcastically at the Watcher. "So sorry that I can't stick around to be insulted some more, but the maths room calls."
The girls left, closely followed by Luke. Cecelia watched them leave, watched them weave their way through the crowded corridors. She turned, about to continue with her tasks, when the door opened and a boy walked in.
"Uh, hi, I've come for-"
She spun to glower at him fiercely, and he took an involuntary step back, his question hanging unanswered in the silence.
"The library is closed!" she snapped. "Go to your classes! I have work to do here!"
He backed worriedly out of the room, wondering whether she should visit the nearest psychiatrist. She allowed herself a minute smirk and walked back into her office where the equipment lay.
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The trio made their way to the maths room, but the girls suddenly stopped. Luke went on a few paces, not noticing, and then stopped and turned around.
"Maths may be an unpleasant spectre, but you've gotta sit it sooner or later," he said. "C'mon."
"Liking later." Keisha said. Gracia nodded in agreement and looked pleadingly at her friend.
"Please, please cover for us." She put on the puppy-dog expression. Luke raised an eyebrow. Keisha quit the persuasiveness and her expression became matter-of-fact.
"Ah, c'mon Luke. You owe me one. Remember when I covered for you 'cause you broke Charlie's skateboard?"
"That was three years ago!"
"And I got the rap for picking on little brother. Now it's your turn. Cover, or you're facing Mom finding out."
"You're an evil person, Keisha Goldsmith." Luke knew he was defeated. The girls grinned.
"Hey, guilty as charged. Thanks Luke." Keisha turned to go, Gracia following. Luke shook his head at the laughing pair and continued on his way, mind concocting an elaborate lie.
As soon as the girls walked into the toilets, they were faced with the prospect of Bridget Hadley and her gaggle of cheerleading ditzes. They were having a last minute preen in front of the mirror, and the four Bridget-wannabes were listening attentively to Bridget's bitching session about some disgraced ex-friend of theirs.
"...and I'm telling you, that dress that Alissa was wearing yesterday, it was so last month!" Bridget's sharp brown eyes caught sight of the approaching 'geeks' and she smirked cruelly as she put away her lipstick. She turned on them, her followers watching closely to her every move.
"Keisha," Bridget sneered, looking her enemy up and down, "Just love the outfit. It just screams," She gestured with her hand as though trying to find the right word. Eventually her smirk grew wider. "Bad taste."
The four flanking her giggled. Keisha glanced down at her outfit. Her dark purple jeans with the silver beads around the ends of the legs almost completely covered her scruffy school trainers. According to 'Bridget's fashion gospel', it was an utmost sin to wear them with a form-fitting top in her favourite scarlet colour. She looked up, smiling brightly in a mock-friendly way, taking in the cheerleader's plunge-neck white dress, killer ivory shoes, and tiny white jacket.
"Aw, thanks Bridget. I really value your opinion. And it would simply be rude for me not to offer one back. Just love the outfit. It just screams," She gestured as Bridget had done for a while, her own smile becoming even more sickeningly sweet. "Hooker."
Unable to think of a witty, scathing comeback, Bridget sighed irratatedly and stalked by with her nose in the air. The Bridget Brigade scurried out with her. The door swung shut and Gracia grinned.
"Score one for the outcasts." she said as they wandered over to the sinks and Keisha began to search through her bag. She hopped up on the space in between the sinks just as Keisha brought out the old book she had been carrying in the library. She sat up next to the Slayer and opened the book as the bell for the start of class sounded. She flicked through the heavy parchment pages, with Gracia watching over her shoulder, until she reached the one marked with a scrap of paper. She removed it and screwed it up.
"Here we are." she announced. "Spike. Also called by the name 'William the Bloody'. Oh look, they have a picture."
Gracia stared at the picture. It showed a man in Victorian clothes, with glasses a little bit like Cecelia's and light brown hair. He seemed quite meek, reminding Gracia of some of the men that were in the class she was supposed to marry into back in the 1750s. Still, he was pretty cute.
"Doesn't look all that bloody to me," was all that she said however. "What else does it say?"
"'Got his nickname by torturing his victims with railroad spikes. These victims included his own brother.'" Keisha flicked the page, skipping the chunks of information, and turned pale. "Oh god, did they have to..."
"What?" Gracia watched as Keisha's face turned greenish, contorted in disgust.
"Include a picture of his brother. After death." Keisha shifted the book quickly onto Gracia's lap and jumped up. She rushed into one of the cubicles and shut the door.
"You OK?" Gracia frowned worriedly.
"Yeah," Keisha gasped from the cubicle, still sounding desicively sick. "Give me a moment in case I puke. It was NOT a pretty sight."
Gracia glanced quickly at the coroner's photograph of the corpse of the man, pulled a face and flicked back to the first page. She scanned it quickly for any other important information.
'He was Sired' she read, 'In 1880, London, England. His Sire was the insane vampire Drusilla, and he comes from the line of the Master. Notably, his grandsire was Angelus, the vicious Scourge of Europe.'
Gracia now felt sick. Her numb mind buzzed as Keisha returned, looking better and calmer now as she cursed her weak stomach. Her brother had indirectly turned this man into a demon. Had forced him into the cursed life of a night-demon.
"Now it's my turn to worry. What's up?" Keisha jumped back up to her place between the sink and her friend.
"What?" Gracia snapped out from her trance and glanced up wildly. She moved her hand, aiming for casual, over the details about Spike's line of vampires. "Oh sorry. Just thinking. How do I know where this guy is?"
Keisha searched the page and then pointed close to the bottom of it. "Here. It says that Spike and his 'paramour', some girl named Drusilla, came to America about thirty or so years ago. They stopped off at New York where Spike killed a Slayer."
"And here." Gracia pointed to some information close to what her hand was covering. "Spike kills another Slayer in China during the Boxer Rebellion at the turn of the century."
"So he's strong. What else does it say?"
Gracia turned the pages, both girls avoiding the gruesome picture of Spike's mutilated brother. She sighed in irritation.
"Nothing. Spike and Drusilla head for Prague, where Drusilla was believed to have been killed by a mob. They returned to the U.S.A. sometime in the late ninties. That's where it ends." Gracia grimaced. "Cecelia REALLY needs some updated books. How the hell am I meant to find him?"
"Wait." Keisha put a hand to her head, trying hard to remember. "That night in the graveyard..."
"What?"
"I...I saw someone. They sorta warned me to look back just as a vampire was about to kill me. When I looked back, they went. Maybe that was him."
"So Spike is probably still in Sunnydale somewhere." Gracia snapped the book shut and handed it to Keisha. "I'll check the graveyards and vamp hangouts tonight. I'll need you to cover for me with Cecelia, possibly my parents if they ask. Dad's on night shift though, and Mum'll probably be too busy looking after Brianna."
"She's really milking this, huh?"
"Well, the kid was injured, but she's fine now. Lounging around on the sofa with the TV on full blast, Scrappy nearby and a carton of neopolitan. So she is a bit. Guess she deserves it though."
"You taking, um, Angel with you?" Keisha turned to put the book away, her hair concealing her flushing cheeks.
Gracia shook her head. "Nuh uh. Can you cover if he asks? Say I'm at home or something similar."
"Will you be OK? I mean, you hardly know what this guy is like." Keisha chewed her lip and fiddled with her hair. "He's killed two Slayers Gracia, what if he's looking to make you his third?"
"Don't worry." Gracia took a deep breath, although nerves had begun to overtake her deep down. "I'll be fine and armed to the teeth." She shot Keisha a confused glance. "Are you sure you heard Cecelia mention this guy?"
Remembering her cover-story for the ghost, Keisha nodded vigorously. "Oh sure. Just...be careful, alright?"
Gracia smiled. "I will. Nothing's going to prevent me from suceeding in anything just now. Maths excluded."
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Ambulo Mortuus raised the stake above the bubbling beaker; with a swift movement of those thin white hands, it snapped cleanly in two. The dark one dropped one piece into the liquid and it fizzed acidly, the frothy bubbles becoming green tinged.
"By the power of the darkness, by the strength of the night, may the forces opposed to her rise once more and increase in their greatness. May she herself and those she loves be struck with great torment, may they become fragile, may they wither in front of her."
Ambulo Mortuus dropped in the pointed end of the broken stake with a dull plop. The forth rose, and the potion hissed and spat evilly.
"So mote it be."
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So, review now and read the next chapter as soon as it's up. In a rush here, it's 11 p.m., and I'm being evicted from this room with the computer in it. Something about having to go to bed, or something like that. See ya's round!
Disclaimer: I own my characters, plots, etc. but I think that Angel and all the original ideas own themselves. 'Cause they're real. Right? Right? Of course. So I dunno where this Joss Whedon guy fits into it. **shrugs**
Dedication: For Emily. Thank you for reviewing all my fics **grins** It isn't annoying, no, in fact all of you can review 'em all! Anyways, sorry about the Liam/Angelus mix-up, I wrote that before I found out. I'm thinkin' of sorting it out...what d'you all think? Opinions please.
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Keisha stared at the woman sitting on the end of her bed. The woman stared right back at her. Both silently.
What was she? She was definitely female, but just...not human. Not vampire either. She was a silvery colour, but very transparent. Keisha could see right through her to her desk, littered in half-finished homework. Neither moved or made a sound for about a minute.
She wasn't scared. Why, she didn't know. She had just awoken from that weird dream again to find an apparition...a ghost...sitting on the end of her bed. She wasn't even startled. It was as if she knew that she would see this thing when she awoke. Maybe she hadn't been alone whilst she slept at all.
Eventually, Keisha started to worry. What was this thing doing here? And why now? Thinking, and slightly worrying, that the ghost might disappear before she could find out what was going on, she whispered, "Who are you?"
The ghost smiled in a friendly way. She was probably about in her mid-twenties, Keisha thought, really too young to die.
"I'm a Slayer. Like your friend Grace." The ghost said.
Confused, Keisha shook her head slowly. "No. My friend's called Gracia. I mean...what are you doing here?"
The ghost shrugged. "Grace, Gracia, have it your way. I know what I mean. And I'm here to help you. The Powers that Be sent me here."
"What is this, a horror movie? Listen, I've got an exam on algebraic equations tomorrow, and I need all the sleep I can get 'cause I haven't revised. Stop answering half-way and tell me what the hell you're doing here!"
Keisha watched the ghost as she shifted slightly, leaning on the bed with her right hand. Her annoyance at being awoken so early in the morning drained as she watched in both fascination and fear as her subconcious mind began to fill in the colours of the woman. Her long curls became a shiny blonde colour, and her eyes flashed green. Her skin flushed with life. Her top became red, her trousers black, and her jacket seemed to be an old leather one.
"I was sent here to help you." the ghost repeated. "To refer you to somebody who can probably help you figure out what's going on with that vampire mob that attacked you all in the graveyard the other night."
"How do you know about that?" Keisha frowned. "Do you know what's going on?"
"No. I was just told what happened and that I had to tell you to contact my...friend." The woman's expression was grim and serious, but her eyes seemed to be faraway in memories.
"Then why did you come to me? Why not Gracia? She's the Slayer."
"I was told to come to the girl called Keisha who's been having the dreams she can't understand. Gracia would probably have a wiggins if she saw me, after what happened to her sister and all."
"How do you know everything that's happened? Do you know what will? What does my dream mean?"
"I know because I've been told. And no, I can't see what'll happen in the future. And once again, no. I can't tell you what your dream means." There was the tiniest hint of growing impatience in the woman's voice at Keisha's questions.
"I'll text Gracia." Keisha decided, reaching for her mobile phone, which was on her bedside cabinet next to her locked diary. She pulled it onto her lap and switched it on. She glanced up at the ghost as it sprung to life.
"Two more things. What's the name of this friend, and, once again, what's your name?"
"His name is Spike." The ghost smiled at the name. "And my name is Buffy."
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"I'm telling you, it wasn't normal. And what happened afterwards...I mean, somebody explain to me, please!"
Gracia used a round-kick on the punch bag, spun, and hit it hard with her fist. The punch bag swung dangerously on its chain.
Luke, who was sitting nearby on the bannister, nodded approvingly. "Good hit."
Cecelia scowled at him. "I suggest you concentrate less on the past and more on your training. If that sister of yours is anything like you, I put her accident down to clumsiness."
Was it Luke's imagination, or did Cecelia spit out the word 'sister' as though it were bitter?
Gracia stopped her assault on the punch bag and watched Cecelia, who was sorting out various ancient books by now, carefully with her wide dark eyes. She remembered that you should count to ten to control your anger and so she did, realising it wouldn't reflect good on her if she beat up the librarian. By the time she got to fifty, she was feeling no better.
"And what about the army of the dead?" Luke asked.
Keisha emerged from the stacks on the opposite side of the library with a heavy old book in her arms and a raised eyebrow. "I thought that was zombies?" She flicked her glance to Cecelia. "Do they exist too?"
Cecelia obviously thought Keisha's queries were too immature to dignify with an answer. "The vampires of this town have obviously been allowed to run wild for too long." She glared pointedly at the Slayer over her square glasses. "I think that that would be down to your tardiness, girl."
"But I go patrolling every night!" Gracia protested. "I kill vampires all the time with pointy wooden sticks, I mean, come on..."
"And where were you last night?"
Gracia realised that Cecelia had a viciously triumphant glint in her eyes as she said, "At the hospital. With Brianna."
"You see! And perhaps your...brother decided that, in your absence, it was time to relive the glory days."
Gracia glanced at the twins, who both looked very confused. She looked back at Cecelia, who might have been smirking had she been an ordinary person. She seethed silently, and when she spoke, her words were broken with anger.
"You have no right to talk about him like that. That's slander, because it'll never happen. I suggest you shut up."
"And I suggest you show some more respect once in a while!"
Unnoticed by the commotion, Keisha bent and slipped the book into her bag where another one already lay hidden between IT and French textbooks.
"Gracia!" she yelled over the noise as she straightened up. "We'd better get going, wouldn't want to miss that algebra test."
Gracia turned, understanding immediately what was going on. Their plan had been formulated over an early-morning text rally, and it looked like it it had gone well.
"Oh yeah, OK." She smiled sarcastically at the Watcher. "So sorry that I can't stick around to be insulted some more, but the maths room calls."
The girls left, closely followed by Luke. Cecelia watched them leave, watched them weave their way through the crowded corridors. She turned, about to continue with her tasks, when the door opened and a boy walked in.
"Uh, hi, I've come for-"
She spun to glower at him fiercely, and he took an involuntary step back, his question hanging unanswered in the silence.
"The library is closed!" she snapped. "Go to your classes! I have work to do here!"
He backed worriedly out of the room, wondering whether she should visit the nearest psychiatrist. She allowed herself a minute smirk and walked back into her office where the equipment lay.
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The trio made their way to the maths room, but the girls suddenly stopped. Luke went on a few paces, not noticing, and then stopped and turned around.
"Maths may be an unpleasant spectre, but you've gotta sit it sooner or later," he said. "C'mon."
"Liking later." Keisha said. Gracia nodded in agreement and looked pleadingly at her friend.
"Please, please cover for us." She put on the puppy-dog expression. Luke raised an eyebrow. Keisha quit the persuasiveness and her expression became matter-of-fact.
"Ah, c'mon Luke. You owe me one. Remember when I covered for you 'cause you broke Charlie's skateboard?"
"That was three years ago!"
"And I got the rap for picking on little brother. Now it's your turn. Cover, or you're facing Mom finding out."
"You're an evil person, Keisha Goldsmith." Luke knew he was defeated. The girls grinned.
"Hey, guilty as charged. Thanks Luke." Keisha turned to go, Gracia following. Luke shook his head at the laughing pair and continued on his way, mind concocting an elaborate lie.
As soon as the girls walked into the toilets, they were faced with the prospect of Bridget Hadley and her gaggle of cheerleading ditzes. They were having a last minute preen in front of the mirror, and the four Bridget-wannabes were listening attentively to Bridget's bitching session about some disgraced ex-friend of theirs.
"...and I'm telling you, that dress that Alissa was wearing yesterday, it was so last month!" Bridget's sharp brown eyes caught sight of the approaching 'geeks' and she smirked cruelly as she put away her lipstick. She turned on them, her followers watching closely to her every move.
"Keisha," Bridget sneered, looking her enemy up and down, "Just love the outfit. It just screams," She gestured with her hand as though trying to find the right word. Eventually her smirk grew wider. "Bad taste."
The four flanking her giggled. Keisha glanced down at her outfit. Her dark purple jeans with the silver beads around the ends of the legs almost completely covered her scruffy school trainers. According to 'Bridget's fashion gospel', it was an utmost sin to wear them with a form-fitting top in her favourite scarlet colour. She looked up, smiling brightly in a mock-friendly way, taking in the cheerleader's plunge-neck white dress, killer ivory shoes, and tiny white jacket.
"Aw, thanks Bridget. I really value your opinion. And it would simply be rude for me not to offer one back. Just love the outfit. It just screams," She gestured as Bridget had done for a while, her own smile becoming even more sickeningly sweet. "Hooker."
Unable to think of a witty, scathing comeback, Bridget sighed irratatedly and stalked by with her nose in the air. The Bridget Brigade scurried out with her. The door swung shut and Gracia grinned.
"Score one for the outcasts." she said as they wandered over to the sinks and Keisha began to search through her bag. She hopped up on the space in between the sinks just as Keisha brought out the old book she had been carrying in the library. She sat up next to the Slayer and opened the book as the bell for the start of class sounded. She flicked through the heavy parchment pages, with Gracia watching over her shoulder, until she reached the one marked with a scrap of paper. She removed it and screwed it up.
"Here we are." she announced. "Spike. Also called by the name 'William the Bloody'. Oh look, they have a picture."
Gracia stared at the picture. It showed a man in Victorian clothes, with glasses a little bit like Cecelia's and light brown hair. He seemed quite meek, reminding Gracia of some of the men that were in the class she was supposed to marry into back in the 1750s. Still, he was pretty cute.
"Doesn't look all that bloody to me," was all that she said however. "What else does it say?"
"'Got his nickname by torturing his victims with railroad spikes. These victims included his own brother.'" Keisha flicked the page, skipping the chunks of information, and turned pale. "Oh god, did they have to..."
"What?" Gracia watched as Keisha's face turned greenish, contorted in disgust.
"Include a picture of his brother. After death." Keisha shifted the book quickly onto Gracia's lap and jumped up. She rushed into one of the cubicles and shut the door.
"You OK?" Gracia frowned worriedly.
"Yeah," Keisha gasped from the cubicle, still sounding desicively sick. "Give me a moment in case I puke. It was NOT a pretty sight."
Gracia glanced quickly at the coroner's photograph of the corpse of the man, pulled a face and flicked back to the first page. She scanned it quickly for any other important information.
'He was Sired' she read, 'In 1880, London, England. His Sire was the insane vampire Drusilla, and he comes from the line of the Master. Notably, his grandsire was Angelus, the vicious Scourge of Europe.'
Gracia now felt sick. Her numb mind buzzed as Keisha returned, looking better and calmer now as she cursed her weak stomach. Her brother had indirectly turned this man into a demon. Had forced him into the cursed life of a night-demon.
"Now it's my turn to worry. What's up?" Keisha jumped back up to her place between the sink and her friend.
"What?" Gracia snapped out from her trance and glanced up wildly. She moved her hand, aiming for casual, over the details about Spike's line of vampires. "Oh sorry. Just thinking. How do I know where this guy is?"
Keisha searched the page and then pointed close to the bottom of it. "Here. It says that Spike and his 'paramour', some girl named Drusilla, came to America about thirty or so years ago. They stopped off at New York where Spike killed a Slayer."
"And here." Gracia pointed to some information close to what her hand was covering. "Spike kills another Slayer in China during the Boxer Rebellion at the turn of the century."
"So he's strong. What else does it say?"
Gracia turned the pages, both girls avoiding the gruesome picture of Spike's mutilated brother. She sighed in irritation.
"Nothing. Spike and Drusilla head for Prague, where Drusilla was believed to have been killed by a mob. They returned to the U.S.A. sometime in the late ninties. That's where it ends." Gracia grimaced. "Cecelia REALLY needs some updated books. How the hell am I meant to find him?"
"Wait." Keisha put a hand to her head, trying hard to remember. "That night in the graveyard..."
"What?"
"I...I saw someone. They sorta warned me to look back just as a vampire was about to kill me. When I looked back, they went. Maybe that was him."
"So Spike is probably still in Sunnydale somewhere." Gracia snapped the book shut and handed it to Keisha. "I'll check the graveyards and vamp hangouts tonight. I'll need you to cover for me with Cecelia, possibly my parents if they ask. Dad's on night shift though, and Mum'll probably be too busy looking after Brianna."
"She's really milking this, huh?"
"Well, the kid was injured, but she's fine now. Lounging around on the sofa with the TV on full blast, Scrappy nearby and a carton of neopolitan. So she is a bit. Guess she deserves it though."
"You taking, um, Angel with you?" Keisha turned to put the book away, her hair concealing her flushing cheeks.
Gracia shook her head. "Nuh uh. Can you cover if he asks? Say I'm at home or something similar."
"Will you be OK? I mean, you hardly know what this guy is like." Keisha chewed her lip and fiddled with her hair. "He's killed two Slayers Gracia, what if he's looking to make you his third?"
"Don't worry." Gracia took a deep breath, although nerves had begun to overtake her deep down. "I'll be fine and armed to the teeth." She shot Keisha a confused glance. "Are you sure you heard Cecelia mention this guy?"
Remembering her cover-story for the ghost, Keisha nodded vigorously. "Oh sure. Just...be careful, alright?"
Gracia smiled. "I will. Nothing's going to prevent me from suceeding in anything just now. Maths excluded."
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Ambulo Mortuus raised the stake above the bubbling beaker; with a swift movement of those thin white hands, it snapped cleanly in two. The dark one dropped one piece into the liquid and it fizzed acidly, the frothy bubbles becoming green tinged.
"By the power of the darkness, by the strength of the night, may the forces opposed to her rise once more and increase in their greatness. May she herself and those she loves be struck with great torment, may they become fragile, may they wither in front of her."
Ambulo Mortuus dropped in the pointed end of the broken stake with a dull plop. The forth rose, and the potion hissed and spat evilly.
"So mote it be."
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So, review now and read the next chapter as soon as it's up. In a rush here, it's 11 p.m., and I'm being evicted from this room with the computer in it. Something about having to go to bed, or something like that. See ya's round!
