A/N: Whoohoo! The summer holidays are here! Six weeks of writing, writing and writing! So expect more chapters! And I should really stop with the exclamation marks!!!!!
Disclaimer: Not mine apart from what is. **Shrugs** Go figure.
Dedication: All my friends. You guys are great.
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Gracia's stomach was a pit of leaden worry as she watched Zachary's vampire minions preparing the ritual. Some scattered magickal concoctions in apparantly symbolic patterns. Some stood guard near the doors, or prowled on the upper level. Some simply watched her with a strange light in their eyes, half fear and half hate.
Zachary was pacing, obviously angry about something. The subject of his rage was soon revealed as he suddenly flung one of the broken TV sets right across the factory room to smash into the opposite wall.
"The one night the ritual can be performed and Ambulo Mortuus is late!" he snarled furiously. "Where is that ungrateful little..." He broke off into a growl, seemingly too angry to speak. He seized the closest of his vampire minions by the throat and looked ready to chuck him after the television set, but settled for dumping him into a cowering heap at his feet after a moment's pause.
"Get up, Rio." he sneered. "You're making a fool of yourself."
Then Zachary's eyes fell on the watching Slayer, and his face split in a perverse grin.
"Having fun, sweetheart?" he called mockingly. Most of the vampires sniggered.
"I can see you don't entertain much." Gracia bit off sarcastically. "Your hospitality leaves a lot to be desired. And as for the décor..." She trailed off, shrugging as best she could when tied so tightly to the post.
Zachary paced a little closer. "How strange it is," he mused aloud. "To think that so many of my ranks have fallen to what we thought was a powerful warrior. How strange to now see that that warrior is in fact a stupidly cocky teenager with a misplaced accent. Not at all scary."
Gracia laughed coldly. "Give me an hour to prove you wrong."
"But you won't live to see another hour." Zachary's teeth glimmered in the light of the few candles lit. "Because if Ambulo Mortuus does not appear soon, I'll perform the ritual myself. Why I accepted help from that idiot, I'll never know..."
"Because," a voice like an Arctic wind spoke from behind him. "You wanted to raise the Anointed One, not botch it up and kill your little army in a stupidly suicidal blunder."
Zachary turned, and his movement allowed Gracia to behold the newcomer, standing in the doorway. They appeared to be both tall and thin, although all but their thin pale hands was obscured by the long hooded robe that they wore. However, the aura of cold disdain that the person emitted was blatantly clear, even without hearing their voice.
The door closed slowly behind the person, and Gracia realised that this must be Ambulo Mortuus...
Her death.
********************************************************************************
"OK," Keisha began, trying to recall everything she could from her most recent dream. "It started off in what has to be a factory."
The group were still hurrying towards the industrial block. The streets were pretty deserted, and somehow she was glad for that. However normal they may appear, a gang of two renegade vampires, two grown-up Wiccans, and two sixteen-year-old siblings was far from usual.
"What did the factory look like?" Willow asked.
Keisha frowned. "Old. Definitely disused. I think the vamps had probably been there a while, 'cause there was a whole lot of junk. Uh...the windows were kind of boarded up, and the second storey of it was this balconey type structure."
"What happened?" Angel prompted. "Was anyone there?"
"There was a fight...this whole big battle, it looked like, but I didn't see much. I think Willow and Tara were trying to put some spell against a person whose face I couldn't see. And Gracia was up against a really tall guy. But then it just sort of skipped to this scene on a balcony, where she was talking to the same person Willow and Tara tried to stop. Then the person moved and..." Keisha broke off and shrugged helplessly, glancing at Angel. "Then you woke me up."
"Way to go Peaches." Spike muttered, taking a drag on another cigarette and tossing it over his shoulder. Angel glared at him.
"Would you not call me that?" he growled. Spike grinned.
"Sorry Peaches." Just one for the road, he thought. Angel controlled the urge to hit him. In finding Gracia, they needed all the help they could get.
"Here it is." Luke announced, gesturing to the awaiting industrial block as they halted and thereby breaking up the possibilty of a fight between sire and grandchilde.
"How do we find which one it is?" Tara queried, a note of hopeless despair creeping into her quiet voice.
"Keisha said it was old, right?" Luke glanced at his twin, who nodded in reply. "Generally speaking, the old factories are round the other side. There's a quicker way around than walking straight through."
"Let's go." Angel said, leading them off again. Suddenly, a thought struck Willow.
"Angel, we don't have any weapons." she said.
"We'll make do." he answered, unconciously shifting into feeding mode for a moment.
********************************************************************************
Gracia's face was turned up to the approaching cloaked figure, eyes wide and watchful. In the minutes between the dramatic entrance and the present, Gracia had begun to feel nauseous with her fear of this person.
Ambulo Mortuus (Gracia had picked up that this was the person's assumed name) appeared to be filled with an evil sense of rejoice as they went about their work under Zachary's scrutinous gaze. Foul smelling sticks of incense were lit, various herbs and mixtures prepared and set out hurriedly for use. Currently, most (apart from the few assigned guards) of the cult were watching in full vampiric face as Ambulo Mortuus lit each of the thirteen thick black candles forming a ring around the Slayer and post.
Then, Gracia's terror peaked and began to subside into a more levelheaded resolve.
They can try to kill me, she thought, but they can't make me let them.
Ambulo Mortuus stepped back from the ring briefly to reach for an ancient tome, instructing four nearby vamps in how to aid the ritual in clipped tones. Eventually, the shrouded one stepped back in and bent close to the captive, the cold voice in an unrecognisable language, then gave the English translation.
"On this night of Darkness; on this night of Pow-"
Gracia cut off the monologue by spitting straight at Ambulo Mortuus's hidden face.
The witch jerked back, swiping the saliva away with one of those thin hands. Gracia caught sight of a brief flash of a pale cheek before Ambulo Mortuus suddenly lashed out, holding a silver dagger to the her throat.
"Do not irk me, child." the person hissed. "Any more interruptions and I'll see that you don't have the pleasure of watching what your death will do."
"Follow the ritual!" Zachary barked suddenly, storming forward. "Complete it perfectly, or both your heads will roll!"
Almost reluctantly, Ambulo Mortuus pulled the blade from Gracia's throat and resumed the chanting. Gracia swallowed hard, glad to have that sharp pressure away from her throat as well as the burning sensation of the hidden stare, although her mind was racing. Those words...something had seemed overwhelmingly familiar about them...
I have to know...
Concentrating all the strength strength she could into one tight ball, she suddenly lifted up her bound legs and brought them round to slam into Ambulo Mortuus's side. Hard.
The unexpected blow sent the crouching, shrouded stranger flying, stumbling up and past the ring of candles to fall heavily in a sitting position facing Gracia. The concealing hood slipped back, away from the face, and then Gracia knew.
She gasped, too shocked to say anything.
Because she saw the impossible- who Ambulo Mortuus really was.
Hard, metallic-silver eyes glared narrowly at her from a pallid face. Icy blonde hair fell to the cloaked shoulders, and the expression of the person held more disdain, hatred and contempt than it ever had before.
It was Cecelia.
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I'm gonna be evil and leave you here for a while! But I swear the next chapter will be up soon, promise!
Now please review by clicking on that sweet lil' button just below and typing in the available box. Thank you.
Disclaimer: Not mine apart from what is. **Shrugs** Go figure.
Dedication: All my friends. You guys are great.
********************************************************************************
Gracia's stomach was a pit of leaden worry as she watched Zachary's vampire minions preparing the ritual. Some scattered magickal concoctions in apparantly symbolic patterns. Some stood guard near the doors, or prowled on the upper level. Some simply watched her with a strange light in their eyes, half fear and half hate.
Zachary was pacing, obviously angry about something. The subject of his rage was soon revealed as he suddenly flung one of the broken TV sets right across the factory room to smash into the opposite wall.
"The one night the ritual can be performed and Ambulo Mortuus is late!" he snarled furiously. "Where is that ungrateful little..." He broke off into a growl, seemingly too angry to speak. He seized the closest of his vampire minions by the throat and looked ready to chuck him after the television set, but settled for dumping him into a cowering heap at his feet after a moment's pause.
"Get up, Rio." he sneered. "You're making a fool of yourself."
Then Zachary's eyes fell on the watching Slayer, and his face split in a perverse grin.
"Having fun, sweetheart?" he called mockingly. Most of the vampires sniggered.
"I can see you don't entertain much." Gracia bit off sarcastically. "Your hospitality leaves a lot to be desired. And as for the décor..." She trailed off, shrugging as best she could when tied so tightly to the post.
Zachary paced a little closer. "How strange it is," he mused aloud. "To think that so many of my ranks have fallen to what we thought was a powerful warrior. How strange to now see that that warrior is in fact a stupidly cocky teenager with a misplaced accent. Not at all scary."
Gracia laughed coldly. "Give me an hour to prove you wrong."
"But you won't live to see another hour." Zachary's teeth glimmered in the light of the few candles lit. "Because if Ambulo Mortuus does not appear soon, I'll perform the ritual myself. Why I accepted help from that idiot, I'll never know..."
"Because," a voice like an Arctic wind spoke from behind him. "You wanted to raise the Anointed One, not botch it up and kill your little army in a stupidly suicidal blunder."
Zachary turned, and his movement allowed Gracia to behold the newcomer, standing in the doorway. They appeared to be both tall and thin, although all but their thin pale hands was obscured by the long hooded robe that they wore. However, the aura of cold disdain that the person emitted was blatantly clear, even without hearing their voice.
The door closed slowly behind the person, and Gracia realised that this must be Ambulo Mortuus...
Her death.
********************************************************************************
"OK," Keisha began, trying to recall everything she could from her most recent dream. "It started off in what has to be a factory."
The group were still hurrying towards the industrial block. The streets were pretty deserted, and somehow she was glad for that. However normal they may appear, a gang of two renegade vampires, two grown-up Wiccans, and two sixteen-year-old siblings was far from usual.
"What did the factory look like?" Willow asked.
Keisha frowned. "Old. Definitely disused. I think the vamps had probably been there a while, 'cause there was a whole lot of junk. Uh...the windows were kind of boarded up, and the second storey of it was this balconey type structure."
"What happened?" Angel prompted. "Was anyone there?"
"There was a fight...this whole big battle, it looked like, but I didn't see much. I think Willow and Tara were trying to put some spell against a person whose face I couldn't see. And Gracia was up against a really tall guy. But then it just sort of skipped to this scene on a balcony, where she was talking to the same person Willow and Tara tried to stop. Then the person moved and..." Keisha broke off and shrugged helplessly, glancing at Angel. "Then you woke me up."
"Way to go Peaches." Spike muttered, taking a drag on another cigarette and tossing it over his shoulder. Angel glared at him.
"Would you not call me that?" he growled. Spike grinned.
"Sorry Peaches." Just one for the road, he thought. Angel controlled the urge to hit him. In finding Gracia, they needed all the help they could get.
"Here it is." Luke announced, gesturing to the awaiting industrial block as they halted and thereby breaking up the possibilty of a fight between sire and grandchilde.
"How do we find which one it is?" Tara queried, a note of hopeless despair creeping into her quiet voice.
"Keisha said it was old, right?" Luke glanced at his twin, who nodded in reply. "Generally speaking, the old factories are round the other side. There's a quicker way around than walking straight through."
"Let's go." Angel said, leading them off again. Suddenly, a thought struck Willow.
"Angel, we don't have any weapons." she said.
"We'll make do." he answered, unconciously shifting into feeding mode for a moment.
********************************************************************************
Gracia's face was turned up to the approaching cloaked figure, eyes wide and watchful. In the minutes between the dramatic entrance and the present, Gracia had begun to feel nauseous with her fear of this person.
Ambulo Mortuus (Gracia had picked up that this was the person's assumed name) appeared to be filled with an evil sense of rejoice as they went about their work under Zachary's scrutinous gaze. Foul smelling sticks of incense were lit, various herbs and mixtures prepared and set out hurriedly for use. Currently, most (apart from the few assigned guards) of the cult were watching in full vampiric face as Ambulo Mortuus lit each of the thirteen thick black candles forming a ring around the Slayer and post.
Then, Gracia's terror peaked and began to subside into a more levelheaded resolve.
They can try to kill me, she thought, but they can't make me let them.
Ambulo Mortuus stepped back from the ring briefly to reach for an ancient tome, instructing four nearby vamps in how to aid the ritual in clipped tones. Eventually, the shrouded one stepped back in and bent close to the captive, the cold voice in an unrecognisable language, then gave the English translation.
"On this night of Darkness; on this night of Pow-"
Gracia cut off the monologue by spitting straight at Ambulo Mortuus's hidden face.
The witch jerked back, swiping the saliva away with one of those thin hands. Gracia caught sight of a brief flash of a pale cheek before Ambulo Mortuus suddenly lashed out, holding a silver dagger to the her throat.
"Do not irk me, child." the person hissed. "Any more interruptions and I'll see that you don't have the pleasure of watching what your death will do."
"Follow the ritual!" Zachary barked suddenly, storming forward. "Complete it perfectly, or both your heads will roll!"
Almost reluctantly, Ambulo Mortuus pulled the blade from Gracia's throat and resumed the chanting. Gracia swallowed hard, glad to have that sharp pressure away from her throat as well as the burning sensation of the hidden stare, although her mind was racing. Those words...something had seemed overwhelmingly familiar about them...
I have to know...
Concentrating all the strength strength she could into one tight ball, she suddenly lifted up her bound legs and brought them round to slam into Ambulo Mortuus's side. Hard.
The unexpected blow sent the crouching, shrouded stranger flying, stumbling up and past the ring of candles to fall heavily in a sitting position facing Gracia. The concealing hood slipped back, away from the face, and then Gracia knew.
She gasped, too shocked to say anything.
Because she saw the impossible- who Ambulo Mortuus really was.
Hard, metallic-silver eyes glared narrowly at her from a pallid face. Icy blonde hair fell to the cloaked shoulders, and the expression of the person held more disdain, hatred and contempt than it ever had before.
It was Cecelia.
********************************************************************************
I'm gonna be evil and leave you here for a while! But I swear the next chapter will be up soon, promise!
Now please review by clicking on that sweet lil' button just below and typing in the available box. Thank you.
