Nicole D'Armand barely paused at Dawn's door before opening it,
unannounced, and walking in. She then stopped dead, taking in the room
with some amazement.
Clothes were everywhere-on the floor, flung over chairs, laid out on the bed, and hung from doorknobs. The floor space that wasn't taken up by clothes and shoes was dominated by books and brightly-colored magazines, as well as the occasional CD or DVD case. Posters featuring musicians and pretty, pouty young men covered the walls, including a large one of Britney Spears that had a circle with a slash through it painted across it, as well as the words, "Britney is Evil." In answer to Nicole's unasked question, a new art set lay open on the floor directly under the poster.
Nicole raised one eyebrow and let her gaze come to rest on Dawn Summers herself. The teen was sprawled on the bed watching a movie and munching on potato chips. Diogenes was curled up beside her.
"Ever think of knocking?" asked Dawn, barely glancing at Nicole. "I could've been naked in here."
"I'm psychic," responded Nicole. "I had a good idea of what you were doing before I even opened the door. What I had no idea of was the state of your room."
Diogenes, meanwhile, had raised his head, flicked an ear in irritation, and jumped off the far side of the bed, out of Nicole's sight. Dawn glanced at him.
"So it's true," remarked the teen. "Animals do sense evil." She crunched a potato chip and turned up the volume on the TV.
"Mr. Hayden wishes me to inform you that he expects you at dinner this evening," said Nicole.
"Sorry, couldn't hear you," said Dawn.
Nicole was growing more annoyed by the moment. Do you hear me now? she asked mentally.
Dawn hit "pause," stopping the DVD. "God, overreact much?" She turned, sitting up on the edge of the bed and glaring at Nicole. Today, the teen was wearing a pair of brand-new white Capri pants and a Tommy Hilfiger t- shirt. For some reason, that annoyed Nicole all the more.
"Mr. Hayden, who has graciously supplied your new wardrobe and entertainment, wishes you to attend a formal dinner with him and his project team this evening," Nicole told her.
"And I should give a shit about this why?" asked Dawn. Nicole sensed that the teen rarely, if ever, swore, and was getting a special thrill out of it now. The psychic's level of irritation edged ever higher.
"You should give a shit because if you do not come willingly, either Mr. Kogue or myself will have to fetch you."
Dawn gave an explosive sigh. "Okay, fine, whatever, I'll be there. Now, could you leave? You're scaring the cat."
"Seven o'clock. Dress nicely." Nicole left before the temptation to forcibly teach the teen some manners overwhelmed her good sense.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Dawn grinned widely. Being able to indulge her Inner Brat was small compensation for being held captive, but the teen felt she ought to take what she could get. Besides, she was developing a plan. She grabbed the remote and switched off her movie ("10 Things I Hate About You"), downed another Pringle, and made for the door. Diogenes felt compelled to follow her out of the room.
Outside, Dawn was immediately confronted by a vampire.
"Hayden said I could go anywhere I wanted in the house," said the teen. "Tag along if you have to, but would you lose the fangs? Major ick."
The vampire's face smoothed into his human countenance. "Very well," he said.
Dawn breezed past him down the hall, and the vampire followed. Well, fine, she thought. He could do what he liked. She figured there wouldn't be anything he could object to in what she was doing.
The house was large, but it didn't even take her visiting each floor do find what she wanted. A study on the top floor housed Giovanni Cassio and whatever he was working on. Grunge rock blared from a stereo, and the young man himself was sitting at a desk working at a computer terminal. Sheets of paper and empty coffee cups littered the room.
"Hey," said Dawn, loud enough to be heard over the music.
Cassio turned from the monitor and grinned at her. "Dawn, right? Is that Dawn Corleone or Bella Dawn-a?"
Dawn didn't get the joke. "Just Dawn. What'cha working on?"
Cassio gestured at his computer. "Breaking codes. That's what the boss hired me for. I'm the best."
"If you do say so yourself." Dawn walked over and took a look at his screen. It was filled with numbers and words in a language she didn't understand. "Is that, like, Italian?"
"Medieval Italian, yes. That's one of the reasons Hayden hired me. Translate the code into the language it was written in, and then translate it into English. I can do both, and, like I said, I'm the best."
"He paying you a lot?"
Cassio chuckled. "Better than anyone else has ever paid me-even the Sicilian Mafia." He took off his glasses. Dawn decided he was kind of cute, in a geeky sort of way. "I really took the job for the challenge, though. Working on an ancient code for a mystical device-"
"You're not to discuss this without Mr. Hayden present," interrupted a voice, startling both Dawn and Cassio. They started and looked at the door. The vampire who'd been shadowing Dawn stood there, back in game face. Dawn had forgotten about him. She and Cassio shared an eye-roll.
"Su gattze!" snapped Cassio at the vampire. He leaned over to Dawn, murmuring confidentially, "That means, 'Your private parts.'" She giggled.
"If you refuse to cooperate, I'll have to inform Ms. D'Armand," said the vampire.
"Fine, fine," said Cassio. "We'll be good little boys and girls, as long as you don't go screaming for that sfacciata."
"That what?" asked Dawn.
"Sfacciata. It means 'bitch,'" explained Cassio.
"Sfacciata," repeated Dawn. Cassio made her practice it a few times until she got the accent exactly right, then moved on to more colorful Italian even as he continued his work on the computer. After an hour, Dawn decided she'd made a friend.
Which meant her plan was working out splendidly.
Satisfied, Dawn bade Cassio farewell and went to explore the rest of the house. Some doors were locked, and the vampire following her appeared to have no interest in opening them for her. Dawn pouted at him and continued to explore.
Just as she was starting to feel the need to find the kitchen and demand lunch, the teen discovered a highly intriguing room. The door had been left open a crack, and Dawn peeked inside. She couldn't see anyone; therefore, she went in.
Inside was what looked a bit like a chemistry lab. There were two tables dominating the room. On one was an assortment of vials, beakers, and containers of various shapes and sizes, as well as a small burner. The other was piled with books and other objects.
It only took a cursory examination for Dawn to conclude this room was for magic, not science. Living with two witches and spending large amounts of time at a magic shop had left Dawn with a better-than-layman's knowledge of such things. She looked over the one table and examined a few containers, but didn't open them, as she'd learned the hard way that opening unfamiliar things in a room thick with magic rarely led to good things. She then went to the other table. Books, amulets, idols-Giles, no doubt, would have been able to put a name to them all. Right in the middle of the table was a bust-a head with not one, but two faces.
"Janus," said a voice. "The Roman god of fate."
Dawn froze, looking up. A tall man who looked about Giles' age was standing in the doorway behind her. "Who are you?" she asked.
"My name's Ethan Rayne, ducks. Tell me, how's old Ripper doing?"
His name rang a bell in her head, but Dawn couldn't remember where she'd heard it before. His accent was English, but different than either Giles' or Spike's. Dawn decided it was about halfway between the two. "Ripper? That's Giles, right? You know him?" she asked.
"Ripper and I go way back," said Ethan. "It's a long, sordid story. Remind me to tell you one of these days."
"I'm not planning on sticking around," said Dawn, curious to see what his reaction to her statement would be.
Ethan just shrugged. "Whatever you say, ducks. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do. Not safe for children around here."
"I'm not a child," Dawn insisted sullenly. She noticed he was holding a sheet of paper in his hand. On it was a particular figure, one she'd seen on Cassio's computer screen while she'd been talking to him. "What's that?"
"Something that'll almost make up for the years of my life Ripper and his pets stole from me." Ethan set the paper on the table with the bust. "Out with you, now."
Seeing nothing else to be gained, Dawn left. She went back to her room, sending away the vampire with her lunch order (grilled peanut butter and banana sandwich on wheat bread). Then she began to go through her new wardrobe for what to wear to Hayden's dinner party. All the time she was trying on and discarding outfits, her brain was going over what she knew of each person she'd met in the house so far.
Eventually, she settled on a royal blue silk sheath dress and Gianni Cassio. Yes, he seemed to be the likeliest prospect. After the dinner tonight, she'd have even more information. Then she could go to Phase 2 of her plan.
Satisfied, she hung up the dress again, then flopped on the bed and finished watching her movie.
-----
Liam was bored out of his mind.
Not that he was about to bring this up to anyone. The previous night, after his evening had been so rudely and humiliatingly cut short and he'd been hustled back to his apparent home, he had turned angrily on the one Englishman - Wesley. They'd argued, Liam growing increasingly irritated with the other man's calm, and then the older Englishman - the one the others called Giles - had joined them. His attitude and manner were strikingly reminiscent of Liam's father. Liam had gotten off a few good insults before Giles had forcibly put an end to the argument.
Exactly what he'd done was still a mystery to Liam, but without any warning, the Irishman had been off his feet and on the ground with Giles' foot on his chest, pinning him down. The most frightening part, though, was the look in the Englishman's eyes as he'd spoken in a quiet, seething tone.
"Listen very carefully," Giles said. "There is a child out there who is alone, afraid, and very likely in grave danger. I happen to love her very much. We are searching for her, and if your attitude results in a delay that brings her any harm, I will drive a stake through your heart myself."
Then he'd abruptly released Liam and left the room. Wesley had offered him a hand up.
"He's in earnest," Liam realized.
"In most profound earnest," Wesley agreed. "Mr. Giles has little enough reason to like you in ordinary times, Liam. I don't suggest you cross him." Wesley sighed. "We're going to try to disenchant you and William, but until then, you should probably try to keep a low profile. Do you understand?"
Liam had. A few hours of keeping out of everyone's way, though, had led to a serious case of boredom. At the moment, he was on the balcony overlooking the lobby, observing the others.
Wesley, Giles, Gunn the Moor, the pretty girl going by the unlikely name of Fred, Willow the cute redhead, and tiny blond Buffy were clustered around a table with a map on it. Liam focused on them, picking out their conversation with his sharp ears.
". . . it only took us a little over an hour to get here," Buffy was saying. "How long was it between the time Cordy's vision hit and when you called us?"
"I'd not say it was much over an hour," Wesley answered. "That's counting the time it took us to get there, search the house, and regroup here."
"And you said the occupants of the house hadn't been gone long, correct?" asked Giles.
"Angel believed they'd been gone no more than ten minutes," said Wesley.
"They were at the second house by the time we got here," said Willow. "So wherever Dawn is, it's less than two hours away."
Wesley removed his glasses. "Cordelia!" he called. The lovely young woman appeared from somewhere out of Liam's line of sight. Craning his neck, the Irishman discovered he had a nice view down her shirt. Wesley was talking again. "Cordy, in your vision, did you sense you were on the water?"
"Nope," she said. "It felt like solid ground to me, and I didn't smell the ocean. Just roses."
"So we can rule out anything off-shore," murmured Giles.
"We can probably rule out beach houses, too," pointed out Willow. "I mean, the ocean? Pretty stinky. But in a good way."
"So basically, anywhere in the city," said Buffy, sounding disappointed.
Cordelia shook her head. "No. I could see stars. That hasn't happened in L.A. since they invented smog. Besides, the city lights were pretty distant."
"We're most likely looking at something outside Los Angeles proper, perhaps overlooking the city," said Wesley. He started gesturing at the map again, and Liam officially lost interest.
Xander, the dark-haired young man, was off to one side talking with the other skinny blond-Anya, that was her name. It looked like they were arguing. Liam focused in on them.
"An, I am not in love with Cordy - I mean, Cordelia," Xander stated. "Pretty much got over that years ago."
"But you did have a long-term affair with her," said Anya. "Are you telling me you're no longer attracted to her and her breasts?"
Liam chuckled. This did sound like an interesting conversation.
"No!" protested Xander. "I mean, yes, she's . . . pretty. But she and I were over before I even met you. Remember? Me being young, hormonal, and stupid, cheating on her with my now-gay best friend, her dumping me, you getting called in to wreak vengeance? Hence, the whole me not being with Cordy anymore and being with you thing."
Anya folded her arms across her breasts. "Do you still think of her, and the orgasms you used to have with her?"
"Anya!" gasped Xander, looking around. Liam was fairly certain the young man couldn't see him, so he felt free to laugh. "Anya, it doesn't matter what I did with Cordelia. We had a whole big thing going on, and then it blew up on account of me being stupid. But you know what? Even if she did, for whatever reason, want to get back together with me, I wouldn't. I'm in love with you. Just you. I don't want anybody else. Okay?"
Anya still looked unhappy. "Then why can't I tell anyone you asked me to marry you?" Liam's eyebrows jumped. So, men were still using that trick, were they?
"Look, it's just not the time, okay?" said Xander, attempting to placate her. "Dawn's in trouble, and-"
"Dawn's always in trouble," Anya interrupted. "And if she isn't, someone else is. You've always got an excuse, Xander, and I'm getting sick of it." She turned on her heel and joined the others at the table. Xander sighed in exasperation and was about to follow her when he was intercepted by William.
"Excuse me, Alexander, but may I have a word with you?" asked the white- haired Englishman.
"Sure, why not? Make it my best day ever," muttered Xander. William looked perplexed, and the dark-haired man sighed. "What?"
"I, er, attempted to speak with Miss Maclay this morning," said William. "I fear she was a trifle - well, evasive. Could it be that my frankly uncouth behavior of last night has lowered her opinion of me?"
Xander set a hand on William's shoulder. "William, buddy, trust me on this: nothing could possibly make Tara's opinion of you lower than it already is."
It took William a minute to grasp the insult, during which time Xander had joined the others at the table.
"Of all the . . ." sputtered William. "Americans!" The white-haired vampire stormed away.
Mid-chuckle, Liam noticed Cordelia moving off. An idea occurred to him. Actually, several ideas, most of which would have made William faint. Liam moved down the staircase, taking care not to draw any attention to himself, and skirted the group at the table. They were involved enough in what they were doing that none took notice of him, save for Buffy.
When her gaze caught his, Liam froze. A strong sensation of recognition flooded him, along with a number of tangled emotions he couldn't begin to make sense of. It wasn't entirely pleasant. Liam tugged his gaze from hers in order to continue in the direction he'd seen Cordelia headed, and very nearly tripped over Tara.
"S-sorry!" she gasped, pulling back so fast Liam had to catch her to keep her from falling. The feeling of her warm, soft body next to his was enough to give him a head rush.
"Not at all, sweeting," he murmured.
"Um . . ." Tara fumbled her way free of Liam's grasp, and he watched, amused, as she hurried over to Willow's side. He'd noticed that those two seemed especially close. Bosom friends, no doubt.
He caught Cordelia's scent again as he neared a particular door. Intoxicated, he breathed it in deep and entered the room as quietly as he could, pulling the door shut behind him.
Cordelia was sitting at a desk inside the room, holding her head in her hands as if she had a bad headache. Liam smirked. He knew just how to fix that. Walking up behind her, he set his large hands on her shoulders. She jerked.
"God, Angel!" she snapped. "Give a girl a little warning when you're sneaking up, would you?" She batted his hands away and stood to face him.
"Sorry, Delia," he said, not at all apologetic.
"Cor-delia," she reminded him. "Only my senile grandmother calls me Delia. Speaking of senile, you're still stuck in the past, aren't you?"
"Is it so bad?" He stepped forward, and Cordelia took a step away, skirting the desk. "Tell me, Cordelia, what am I to you?"
"Friend. Just friend."
"Never a lover?"
"Most definitely not."
He stepped forward again, and she moved another step back, putting the desk between them. "Am I so benighted in the future that I've not courted you?"
She continued to back away as he advanced. "Liam, trust me on this: things are, to say the least, complicated beyond words. Courting - strictly a no- no. Understand?"
"No," he said frankly. "I don't understand what could possibly be so complicated between a man and a woman - especially a woman as beautiful as you." He reached out, brushing her hair with his fingers. "Unless you've taken Holy Orders. Is that why your hair is so short?"
"No - I mean, yes! Yes, Holy Orders. Trespassing on the sacred here, which is not good for a vampire, which you are . . ."
She was backed against the wall. Liam gave her a lazy smile. "Then I suppose I must content myself with a kiss, stolen from God."
His mouth came down on hers, and suddenly, he felt like he was indeed touching something sacred. Her scent was like the smells rising from a rich banquet laid out in front of him. He could hear her heart beating, the blood rushing through her veins. The warmth from her body stole the chill from his, and he felt like her life was entering him, like if only he could draw on it, he would be alive as he'd never been before . . .
-----
William had managed to catch up to Tara. "Miss Maclay, may I have a moment of your time?" he asked diffidently.
The witch sighed inwardly. She just couldn't get away from the vampires today. "Okay."
He drew her a little aside from the others. "Miss Maclay, I fear I've given you rather a wrong impression of myself. Believe me when I say my behavior last night was an anomaly, and I cannot explain or excuse it except perhaps to say that due to the rather bizarre occurrences of late, and the corrupting influence of that odious Irishman, I'm not quite myself. It would pain me no end to have lost whatever regard you have for me, Miss Maclay, and I most humbly beg your indulgence - and your pardon."
His manner was so sincere, and so unlike Spike's usual demeanor, that Tara's heart went out to him even as she remained baffled as to why the regressed vampire had picked her to crush on. "It's okay, William. I understand."
His face lit up with a totally un-Spike-ish smile. "You are indeed the kindest and most genteel of women, then. Perhaps at some time when this current crisis is past, you would consent to have tea with me?"
"William," Tara began, not at all sure of where to go from here. "William, I-I'm afraid that's not exactly . . ." She trailed off.
"Oh." William was visibly crestfallen. "Oh. Well. I quite understand, Miss Maclay. I am not the suitor you wish, then."
Tara felt like she'd committed a minor murder. "William, no, it's-it's not like that. You're very sweet. It's just that . . ." She decided to just spit it out. "I'm a lesbian."
"Lesbian?" William looked puzzled. "I'm afraid I don't understand what your nationality has to do with . . . I say, was that a scream?"
Just then, Buffy sprang up from the table, leaped over the couch, and bolted for the closed office.
"Most indecorous," sniffed William. "That young woman . . . Miss Maclay?"
Tara and the others raced to join Buffy at the office door, which she'd kicked open. Inside was an incongruous tableau. Cordelia stood frozen against one wall, eyes wide with fear and locked on Liam, who was curled up in the opposite corner, covering his face. One of Cordelia's hands rose and touched her neck. That was when everyone noticed the two tiny streaks of blood on it.
"Cordy, you okay?" demanded Buffy.
"I-I . . ." Cordelia swallowed hard. "I'm okay."
"He attacked you?" asked Xander, glaring angrily at Liam's cowering form.
Cordelia looked at the blood on her fingers, dazed. "He-he didn't mean to. He didn't know . . ."
Wesley brushed past Buffy and went to Cordelia, examining her neck briefly, then leading her back to the group. "She's all right, but I think Angel's- "
"Everybody else leave," ordered Buffy. Wesley looked at her. "Leave. I'll handle this."
Slowly, reluctantly, everyone but Buffy withdrew from the room. She entered completely then, drawing the door shut behind her before she crossed the room to kneel in front of Liam.
He was murmuring something under his breath, barely speaking audibly. Buffy listened.
"I'm a monster," he was saying, again and again.
"Angel. Liam," she said gently, and reached out to touch him.
He cringed, turning his face as far away from her as he could, hiding. "No! I'm a monster, a demon. Stay away!"
"It's okay," she reassured him. "I've seen you like this before. It's okay, Liam. Just try to relax. Breathe. I know you don't need to, but it helps. Just relax."
Buffy continued her soothing monologue, stroking his hair and touching his hands as she did so. Little by little, the tension ebbed from his shoulders, and finally, he raised his human face from his hands.
"What am I?" he whispered.
"A-a vampire," Buffy answered. "But-"
"How long?" Liam interrupted before Buffy could explain further.
"About 250 years."
"I tried to bite her." Liam swallowed. "I drink blood . . . I kill."
"No, you don't," Buffy countered. "Not anymore."
"Not anymore?" He looked at her. "How many did I . . ?" Buffy paused, and Liam demanded again, "How many?"
"I-I'm not sure. I don't know. A lot."
There was silence then. Liam's eyes grew dark, haunted, and Buffy suddenly saw how Angel could have grown out of this carefree young man.
"Liam," she said urgently, leaning even closer to him. "Liam, you have to listen to me. That's not you anymore. That's-"
"My family," he interrupted again. "What happened to my family?"
Buffy froze. That was one question she was completely unprepared to answer. "They're dead," she finally said. "It's been centuries."
"How did they die?" Liam pressed.
Buffy couldn't answer. She didn't have to. Liam's eyes grew wide with horror.
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," Liam breathed. "I didn't - I couldn't have . . . Did I kill them?"
"You weren't - you weren't yourself," Buffy whispered through a tight throat.
The horror only grew in Liam's face. "No. No, please tell me no. My father, my mother . . . what about Kathy? Little Kathy?"
Buffy closed her eyes. "Liam . . ."
"Did I kill them?!" Liam shouted.
And Buffy could only answer, "Yes."
"Dear God. Sweet Jesus." Liam rocked back and forth. "I'm a monster."
"Liam, please . . ."
"Mother, Father, Kathy. Sweet little Kathy."
"Liam, you have to listen to me-"
"My baby sister. What have I done? My little dearie . . ."
"Liam!" Buffy grabbed his face in her hands. "You didn't have your soul back then. You couldn't stop yourself. But it's not that way anymore. You're good. You help people. You've helped me before, and I need you now. I need you!"
"Sweet little Kathy . . ."
"You can't help her now!" Buffy burst out. Liam stared at her, shocked, and Buffy went on. "You can't. I know you wish . . . but you can't. That's why you help other people. Right now, my own little sister is missing. I love her just as much as you loved your Kathy. Dawn's alone and in danger, and you can help me find her."
"How do you know?" Liam whispered.
"Because I know you," Buffy stated firmly. "You've always been there for me when I needed you. You're someone I've always been able to turn to when things are at their worst." She took his hands in hers. "Please, Liam, Angel, help me now."
He disentangled one of his hands from hers and brought it up to cup her face. "I will try," he whispered. Buffy covered his hand with hers. "Do you know me well, Buffy?"
"I do. You're a good man," she reassured him. "Things are just . . ."
"Complicated?" he ventured. She nodded, and he smiled just a little. "I'm beginning to understand." He bent forward and found her lips for the gentlest of kisses. "I'll help you find your sister. I don't know how, but I'll try. For Kathy."
"I know. I always know." Buffy stood and pulled him to his feet. "Come on. Let's do this. For Kathy."
-----
Dawn was precisely ten minutes late for dinner with Hayden. Unfortunately for her Inner Brat, that didn't inconvenience Hayden greatly, as Cassio was twenty minutes late. That left Dawn ten minutes to glare at Hayden, Nicole (who was wearing a stunning red evening gown), Ethan, and Kogue. Hayden chatted lightly with Nicole and Ethan as Dawn sulked, and eventually, the teen decided to join the conversation.
"I finally figured out who you are," she said to Ethan. "You turned me into a fairy on Halloween when I was eleven."
"Ah, yes, that Halloween," said Ethan, swirling the wine in his glass. "Some of my best work, that. Hope you had fun, ducks."
"Well, the flying part was kind of cool," Dawn admitted. "The stealing a baby part wasn't, though. Buffy was almost as freaked out as I was. Do you have any idea how long it took us to figure out who the parents were?"
"That sort of thing is what makes life interesting." Ethan winked at her over his wineglass. "Chaos. You ought to try it sometime."
"Apparently, you haven't seen her room," commented Nicole. Dawn rolled her eyes.
Cassio walked in just then, still in a ratty t-shirt and jeans. He acknowledged no one and sat at his place at the table, glaring at his empty coffee cup like he found it somehow offensive.
"Hey, Gianni," Dawn said.
"Hello, bambina," said the Italian. He scratched his head distractedly, dislodging the pen tucked behind his ear. "Where's my coffee?"
Hayden signaled a server, and within moments, a bowl of soup appeared before each person except Kogue. He received instead a large piece of raw meat. "Well, now that we're all here, we can talk about our project," said Hayden.
"Your project," corrected Dawn. "I don't have anything to do with it."
"Actually, you have a great deal to do with it," said Hayden. "Eat up. The soup's delicious. Gianni, I understand you overcame your last obstacle."
Cassio nodded, his mouth full. He swallowed and said, "It should be ready for testing tomorrow, if your people are as good as you think they are."
"Excellent. And you're ready, Mr. Rayne?"
"Whenever you are," said Ethan. "Fine piece of sorcery you've got set up for me. Not as much fun as the last, but far more profitable."
"Ah, yes." Hayden looked at Nicole. "On that account, how are our friends doing?"
"Baffled, as far as I can tell," said the psychic. "They have no idea what's going on."
"Are any of you planning to explain what you're yammering about?" demanded Dawn.
"Well, Dawn, Mr. Rayne here came up with a rather ingenious way to take your vampire friends out of the picture," explained Hayden with a nod to Ethan.
Dawn's eyes grew wide. "Did he kill them?"
" 'Course not," scoffed Ethan. "Death is too easy. The rest of your friends could've just stepped over a couple of piles of dust, and it would've pissed off the Slayer even more. What I've done will keep them occupied far longer. Chaos, ducks - it's stronger than death."
"Buffy won't let anything stop her from finding me," Dawn shot back.
"That's probably true," agreed Hayden. "Which is why we'll have to move you before long. Right now, we're at a critical stage, and all we really need is to keep your people nicely distracted until we can finish our testing. That shouldn't take too long."
Dawn rolled her eyes and set down her spoon with a thump. "Will you just explain what's going on, already?"
Hayden appeared unfazed by her display of temper. "Actually, I think it's time I did. Tell me, Dawn: have you ever heard of alchemy?"
"Nicholas Flamel, the Sorcerer's Stone, yeah," said Dawn. A round of blank stares met her. "God, doesn't anybody over 18 read Harry Potter? Yes, I know what it is. Turning lead into gold or something stupid like that."
Hayden chuckled. "It took me a moment to get your reference, but now I do remember. I sent my niece those books for Christmas, you know. In any case, you've got the basic concept. Alchemy was a minor obsession in the Middle Ages, but no one managed to actually do it except for one man: Fausto Tesorieri.
"I'd heard of Tesorieri through the work of another alchemist, and what I learned intrigued me. I finally managed to track his diaries down - in a library in Florence, would you believe. That was almost a decade ago. I put my top people to work translating them in hopes of discovering his secret. Unfortunately, he kept his most important notes in code, which is why I had to bring in Mr. Cassio here." Cassio's head popped up at the mention of his name. Hayden went on.
"Tesorieri constructed an alchemy engine that actually worked, Dawn. It was amazing, the work he put into it, the absolute genius of the design. It took years, but I finally managed to put together one of my own. But there's a problem with it: the original power source is missing.
"Tesorieri didn't use the Sorcerer's Stone - or, properly, the Philosopher's Stone - he used the Staff of Lythos. Now, you see, alchemy takes a great deal of energy, and Tesorieri finally figured out that the only way to concentrate that much energy was to channel it from other dimensions. That's what the Staff did. Unfortunately, it was lost centuries ago. I tried to track it down, but about a year ago, I finally gave up all hope and started looking for an alternative power source.
"I was just about at the end of my rope, Dawn, when Nicole felt a psychic earthquake from up in your neck of the woods. She sensed a multidimensional power so intense it could rip apart the universe."
"Me," said Dawn, not even slightly impressed.
"You." Hayden beamed at her. "The energy of the Key is strong enough to power my alchemy engine and put the last piece into my puzzle, Dawn. For the last few months, we've been working on altering the alchemy engine to work with your energy, and the time has come to test it."
The servers had come back in to remove the soup bowls and place the main course on the table. Dawn barely even looked at her food.
"Let me get this straight," she said. "You want to use a blob of universe- destroying energy for a get-rich-quick scheme?"
"Why not?" shrugged Ethan. He was apparently savoring his meal and the wine choices with it. "There are worse things than being rich."
"Is this all part of your plans for chaos, too?" asked Dawn sarcastically.
"No," replied Ethan. "I'm doing this for Hayden because he sprang me from that hellhole I was in. They were so uptight about sorcery there they wouldn't even let me have spices in my food."
Hayden waved away Dawn's objection. "I'm not doing this for the money, Dawn. I love the challenge. This is the greatest puzzle of my life, bringing together history, science, and the supernatural in one magnificent project. Why, just look at this team." He spread out his hands, indicating everyone in the room. "We have an English sorcerer, a demon originally from Siberia, a French psychic, an Italian cryptologist, a whole team of American, German, and Japanese engineers who, sadly, were not able to join us, and you - an energy Key of unknown origin, wrapped up in the flesh and blood of an all-American girl. This is the kind of thing I live for."
"You're freaking insane," Dawn stated bluntly. "You know, my friend Spike is a vampire without a soul, but he protects me because he likes me. You're supposed to have a soul, but you take me away from everything and everyone I love because of your pet project. I'm just a thing to you, just like I was to Glory. At least she admitted she was a monster." Dawn threw down her napkin. "Excuse me. I think I've got to barf now."
She stood up from her seat and stalked out of the dining hall. Enraged, she stormed her way back to her room. Just as soon as she'd reached the door, however, her arm was caught.
Nicole D'Armand's icy blue eyes met Dawn's. "You have much to learn about etiquette. Mr. Hayden is your host, and you will not be rude to him."
"Mr. Hayden is my kidnapper, and I'll do whatever I damn well want to," Dawn almost shouted back, yanking her arm free from Nicole's grasp.
"Listen, petite chienne," Nicole hissed. "You are being indulged because Mr. Hayden needs you for his 'pet project,' as you put it. If your attitude impedes him, he will not put up with it. And I am very much looking forward to teaching you some manners."
"And I am very much," said Dawn, mocking Nicole's accent, "looking forward to watching my sister kick your ass."
Nicole laughed, low and deadly. "Then you will be waiting a long time. As for this project, you had best pray it works. If it does not, Mr. Hayden will have to recoup his losses by selling the Key to the highest bidder." Dawn blanched. "How would you like that? Perhaps we could even find someone like Glory to take you. Someone to tie you up and slice you open to drain your blood. Shallow cuts . . ."
Dawn felt it: Nicole's touch in her mind, dredging up the horrifying memories of being tied up, waiting for her death, feeling the knife cuts, watching Buffy leap into the void. The psychic was deliberately bringing those memories to the fore, enjoying Dawn's discomfort.
And Dawn was suddenly furious again. As the emotions of that night came flooding back, the teen took them and imagined herself physically throwing them at Nicole, using them as a weapon.
Nicole flinched. Her right hand went to her side, just where Dawn had been cut the first time, and Dawn felt the psychic's mind withdraw. Nicole's face had gone white, and she was even shaking a little.
"If you can't handle it," said Dawn coldly, "stay out of my brain." The teen went into her room and slammed the door, leaving Nicole outside, badly shaken.
Clothes were everywhere-on the floor, flung over chairs, laid out on the bed, and hung from doorknobs. The floor space that wasn't taken up by clothes and shoes was dominated by books and brightly-colored magazines, as well as the occasional CD or DVD case. Posters featuring musicians and pretty, pouty young men covered the walls, including a large one of Britney Spears that had a circle with a slash through it painted across it, as well as the words, "Britney is Evil." In answer to Nicole's unasked question, a new art set lay open on the floor directly under the poster.
Nicole raised one eyebrow and let her gaze come to rest on Dawn Summers herself. The teen was sprawled on the bed watching a movie and munching on potato chips. Diogenes was curled up beside her.
"Ever think of knocking?" asked Dawn, barely glancing at Nicole. "I could've been naked in here."
"I'm psychic," responded Nicole. "I had a good idea of what you were doing before I even opened the door. What I had no idea of was the state of your room."
Diogenes, meanwhile, had raised his head, flicked an ear in irritation, and jumped off the far side of the bed, out of Nicole's sight. Dawn glanced at him.
"So it's true," remarked the teen. "Animals do sense evil." She crunched a potato chip and turned up the volume on the TV.
"Mr. Hayden wishes me to inform you that he expects you at dinner this evening," said Nicole.
"Sorry, couldn't hear you," said Dawn.
Nicole was growing more annoyed by the moment. Do you hear me now? she asked mentally.
Dawn hit "pause," stopping the DVD. "God, overreact much?" She turned, sitting up on the edge of the bed and glaring at Nicole. Today, the teen was wearing a pair of brand-new white Capri pants and a Tommy Hilfiger t- shirt. For some reason, that annoyed Nicole all the more.
"Mr. Hayden, who has graciously supplied your new wardrobe and entertainment, wishes you to attend a formal dinner with him and his project team this evening," Nicole told her.
"And I should give a shit about this why?" asked Dawn. Nicole sensed that the teen rarely, if ever, swore, and was getting a special thrill out of it now. The psychic's level of irritation edged ever higher.
"You should give a shit because if you do not come willingly, either Mr. Kogue or myself will have to fetch you."
Dawn gave an explosive sigh. "Okay, fine, whatever, I'll be there. Now, could you leave? You're scaring the cat."
"Seven o'clock. Dress nicely." Nicole left before the temptation to forcibly teach the teen some manners overwhelmed her good sense.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Dawn grinned widely. Being able to indulge her Inner Brat was small compensation for being held captive, but the teen felt she ought to take what she could get. Besides, she was developing a plan. She grabbed the remote and switched off her movie ("10 Things I Hate About You"), downed another Pringle, and made for the door. Diogenes felt compelled to follow her out of the room.
Outside, Dawn was immediately confronted by a vampire.
"Hayden said I could go anywhere I wanted in the house," said the teen. "Tag along if you have to, but would you lose the fangs? Major ick."
The vampire's face smoothed into his human countenance. "Very well," he said.
Dawn breezed past him down the hall, and the vampire followed. Well, fine, she thought. He could do what he liked. She figured there wouldn't be anything he could object to in what she was doing.
The house was large, but it didn't even take her visiting each floor do find what she wanted. A study on the top floor housed Giovanni Cassio and whatever he was working on. Grunge rock blared from a stereo, and the young man himself was sitting at a desk working at a computer terminal. Sheets of paper and empty coffee cups littered the room.
"Hey," said Dawn, loud enough to be heard over the music.
Cassio turned from the monitor and grinned at her. "Dawn, right? Is that Dawn Corleone or Bella Dawn-a?"
Dawn didn't get the joke. "Just Dawn. What'cha working on?"
Cassio gestured at his computer. "Breaking codes. That's what the boss hired me for. I'm the best."
"If you do say so yourself." Dawn walked over and took a look at his screen. It was filled with numbers and words in a language she didn't understand. "Is that, like, Italian?"
"Medieval Italian, yes. That's one of the reasons Hayden hired me. Translate the code into the language it was written in, and then translate it into English. I can do both, and, like I said, I'm the best."
"He paying you a lot?"
Cassio chuckled. "Better than anyone else has ever paid me-even the Sicilian Mafia." He took off his glasses. Dawn decided he was kind of cute, in a geeky sort of way. "I really took the job for the challenge, though. Working on an ancient code for a mystical device-"
"You're not to discuss this without Mr. Hayden present," interrupted a voice, startling both Dawn and Cassio. They started and looked at the door. The vampire who'd been shadowing Dawn stood there, back in game face. Dawn had forgotten about him. She and Cassio shared an eye-roll.
"Su gattze!" snapped Cassio at the vampire. He leaned over to Dawn, murmuring confidentially, "That means, 'Your private parts.'" She giggled.
"If you refuse to cooperate, I'll have to inform Ms. D'Armand," said the vampire.
"Fine, fine," said Cassio. "We'll be good little boys and girls, as long as you don't go screaming for that sfacciata."
"That what?" asked Dawn.
"Sfacciata. It means 'bitch,'" explained Cassio.
"Sfacciata," repeated Dawn. Cassio made her practice it a few times until she got the accent exactly right, then moved on to more colorful Italian even as he continued his work on the computer. After an hour, Dawn decided she'd made a friend.
Which meant her plan was working out splendidly.
Satisfied, Dawn bade Cassio farewell and went to explore the rest of the house. Some doors were locked, and the vampire following her appeared to have no interest in opening them for her. Dawn pouted at him and continued to explore.
Just as she was starting to feel the need to find the kitchen and demand lunch, the teen discovered a highly intriguing room. The door had been left open a crack, and Dawn peeked inside. She couldn't see anyone; therefore, she went in.
Inside was what looked a bit like a chemistry lab. There were two tables dominating the room. On one was an assortment of vials, beakers, and containers of various shapes and sizes, as well as a small burner. The other was piled with books and other objects.
It only took a cursory examination for Dawn to conclude this room was for magic, not science. Living with two witches and spending large amounts of time at a magic shop had left Dawn with a better-than-layman's knowledge of such things. She looked over the one table and examined a few containers, but didn't open them, as she'd learned the hard way that opening unfamiliar things in a room thick with magic rarely led to good things. She then went to the other table. Books, amulets, idols-Giles, no doubt, would have been able to put a name to them all. Right in the middle of the table was a bust-a head with not one, but two faces.
"Janus," said a voice. "The Roman god of fate."
Dawn froze, looking up. A tall man who looked about Giles' age was standing in the doorway behind her. "Who are you?" she asked.
"My name's Ethan Rayne, ducks. Tell me, how's old Ripper doing?"
His name rang a bell in her head, but Dawn couldn't remember where she'd heard it before. His accent was English, but different than either Giles' or Spike's. Dawn decided it was about halfway between the two. "Ripper? That's Giles, right? You know him?" she asked.
"Ripper and I go way back," said Ethan. "It's a long, sordid story. Remind me to tell you one of these days."
"I'm not planning on sticking around," said Dawn, curious to see what his reaction to her statement would be.
Ethan just shrugged. "Whatever you say, ducks. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do. Not safe for children around here."
"I'm not a child," Dawn insisted sullenly. She noticed he was holding a sheet of paper in his hand. On it was a particular figure, one she'd seen on Cassio's computer screen while she'd been talking to him. "What's that?"
"Something that'll almost make up for the years of my life Ripper and his pets stole from me." Ethan set the paper on the table with the bust. "Out with you, now."
Seeing nothing else to be gained, Dawn left. She went back to her room, sending away the vampire with her lunch order (grilled peanut butter and banana sandwich on wheat bread). Then she began to go through her new wardrobe for what to wear to Hayden's dinner party. All the time she was trying on and discarding outfits, her brain was going over what she knew of each person she'd met in the house so far.
Eventually, she settled on a royal blue silk sheath dress and Gianni Cassio. Yes, he seemed to be the likeliest prospect. After the dinner tonight, she'd have even more information. Then she could go to Phase 2 of her plan.
Satisfied, she hung up the dress again, then flopped on the bed and finished watching her movie.
-----
Liam was bored out of his mind.
Not that he was about to bring this up to anyone. The previous night, after his evening had been so rudely and humiliatingly cut short and he'd been hustled back to his apparent home, he had turned angrily on the one Englishman - Wesley. They'd argued, Liam growing increasingly irritated with the other man's calm, and then the older Englishman - the one the others called Giles - had joined them. His attitude and manner were strikingly reminiscent of Liam's father. Liam had gotten off a few good insults before Giles had forcibly put an end to the argument.
Exactly what he'd done was still a mystery to Liam, but without any warning, the Irishman had been off his feet and on the ground with Giles' foot on his chest, pinning him down. The most frightening part, though, was the look in the Englishman's eyes as he'd spoken in a quiet, seething tone.
"Listen very carefully," Giles said. "There is a child out there who is alone, afraid, and very likely in grave danger. I happen to love her very much. We are searching for her, and if your attitude results in a delay that brings her any harm, I will drive a stake through your heart myself."
Then he'd abruptly released Liam and left the room. Wesley had offered him a hand up.
"He's in earnest," Liam realized.
"In most profound earnest," Wesley agreed. "Mr. Giles has little enough reason to like you in ordinary times, Liam. I don't suggest you cross him." Wesley sighed. "We're going to try to disenchant you and William, but until then, you should probably try to keep a low profile. Do you understand?"
Liam had. A few hours of keeping out of everyone's way, though, had led to a serious case of boredom. At the moment, he was on the balcony overlooking the lobby, observing the others.
Wesley, Giles, Gunn the Moor, the pretty girl going by the unlikely name of Fred, Willow the cute redhead, and tiny blond Buffy were clustered around a table with a map on it. Liam focused on them, picking out their conversation with his sharp ears.
". . . it only took us a little over an hour to get here," Buffy was saying. "How long was it between the time Cordy's vision hit and when you called us?"
"I'd not say it was much over an hour," Wesley answered. "That's counting the time it took us to get there, search the house, and regroup here."
"And you said the occupants of the house hadn't been gone long, correct?" asked Giles.
"Angel believed they'd been gone no more than ten minutes," said Wesley.
"They were at the second house by the time we got here," said Willow. "So wherever Dawn is, it's less than two hours away."
Wesley removed his glasses. "Cordelia!" he called. The lovely young woman appeared from somewhere out of Liam's line of sight. Craning his neck, the Irishman discovered he had a nice view down her shirt. Wesley was talking again. "Cordy, in your vision, did you sense you were on the water?"
"Nope," she said. "It felt like solid ground to me, and I didn't smell the ocean. Just roses."
"So we can rule out anything off-shore," murmured Giles.
"We can probably rule out beach houses, too," pointed out Willow. "I mean, the ocean? Pretty stinky. But in a good way."
"So basically, anywhere in the city," said Buffy, sounding disappointed.
Cordelia shook her head. "No. I could see stars. That hasn't happened in L.A. since they invented smog. Besides, the city lights were pretty distant."
"We're most likely looking at something outside Los Angeles proper, perhaps overlooking the city," said Wesley. He started gesturing at the map again, and Liam officially lost interest.
Xander, the dark-haired young man, was off to one side talking with the other skinny blond-Anya, that was her name. It looked like they were arguing. Liam focused in on them.
"An, I am not in love with Cordy - I mean, Cordelia," Xander stated. "Pretty much got over that years ago."
"But you did have a long-term affair with her," said Anya. "Are you telling me you're no longer attracted to her and her breasts?"
Liam chuckled. This did sound like an interesting conversation.
"No!" protested Xander. "I mean, yes, she's . . . pretty. But she and I were over before I even met you. Remember? Me being young, hormonal, and stupid, cheating on her with my now-gay best friend, her dumping me, you getting called in to wreak vengeance? Hence, the whole me not being with Cordy anymore and being with you thing."
Anya folded her arms across her breasts. "Do you still think of her, and the orgasms you used to have with her?"
"Anya!" gasped Xander, looking around. Liam was fairly certain the young man couldn't see him, so he felt free to laugh. "Anya, it doesn't matter what I did with Cordelia. We had a whole big thing going on, and then it blew up on account of me being stupid. But you know what? Even if she did, for whatever reason, want to get back together with me, I wouldn't. I'm in love with you. Just you. I don't want anybody else. Okay?"
Anya still looked unhappy. "Then why can't I tell anyone you asked me to marry you?" Liam's eyebrows jumped. So, men were still using that trick, were they?
"Look, it's just not the time, okay?" said Xander, attempting to placate her. "Dawn's in trouble, and-"
"Dawn's always in trouble," Anya interrupted. "And if she isn't, someone else is. You've always got an excuse, Xander, and I'm getting sick of it." She turned on her heel and joined the others at the table. Xander sighed in exasperation and was about to follow her when he was intercepted by William.
"Excuse me, Alexander, but may I have a word with you?" asked the white- haired Englishman.
"Sure, why not? Make it my best day ever," muttered Xander. William looked perplexed, and the dark-haired man sighed. "What?"
"I, er, attempted to speak with Miss Maclay this morning," said William. "I fear she was a trifle - well, evasive. Could it be that my frankly uncouth behavior of last night has lowered her opinion of me?"
Xander set a hand on William's shoulder. "William, buddy, trust me on this: nothing could possibly make Tara's opinion of you lower than it already is."
It took William a minute to grasp the insult, during which time Xander had joined the others at the table.
"Of all the . . ." sputtered William. "Americans!" The white-haired vampire stormed away.
Mid-chuckle, Liam noticed Cordelia moving off. An idea occurred to him. Actually, several ideas, most of which would have made William faint. Liam moved down the staircase, taking care not to draw any attention to himself, and skirted the group at the table. They were involved enough in what they were doing that none took notice of him, save for Buffy.
When her gaze caught his, Liam froze. A strong sensation of recognition flooded him, along with a number of tangled emotions he couldn't begin to make sense of. It wasn't entirely pleasant. Liam tugged his gaze from hers in order to continue in the direction he'd seen Cordelia headed, and very nearly tripped over Tara.
"S-sorry!" she gasped, pulling back so fast Liam had to catch her to keep her from falling. The feeling of her warm, soft body next to his was enough to give him a head rush.
"Not at all, sweeting," he murmured.
"Um . . ." Tara fumbled her way free of Liam's grasp, and he watched, amused, as she hurried over to Willow's side. He'd noticed that those two seemed especially close. Bosom friends, no doubt.
He caught Cordelia's scent again as he neared a particular door. Intoxicated, he breathed it in deep and entered the room as quietly as he could, pulling the door shut behind him.
Cordelia was sitting at a desk inside the room, holding her head in her hands as if she had a bad headache. Liam smirked. He knew just how to fix that. Walking up behind her, he set his large hands on her shoulders. She jerked.
"God, Angel!" she snapped. "Give a girl a little warning when you're sneaking up, would you?" She batted his hands away and stood to face him.
"Sorry, Delia," he said, not at all apologetic.
"Cor-delia," she reminded him. "Only my senile grandmother calls me Delia. Speaking of senile, you're still stuck in the past, aren't you?"
"Is it so bad?" He stepped forward, and Cordelia took a step away, skirting the desk. "Tell me, Cordelia, what am I to you?"
"Friend. Just friend."
"Never a lover?"
"Most definitely not."
He stepped forward again, and she moved another step back, putting the desk between them. "Am I so benighted in the future that I've not courted you?"
She continued to back away as he advanced. "Liam, trust me on this: things are, to say the least, complicated beyond words. Courting - strictly a no- no. Understand?"
"No," he said frankly. "I don't understand what could possibly be so complicated between a man and a woman - especially a woman as beautiful as you." He reached out, brushing her hair with his fingers. "Unless you've taken Holy Orders. Is that why your hair is so short?"
"No - I mean, yes! Yes, Holy Orders. Trespassing on the sacred here, which is not good for a vampire, which you are . . ."
She was backed against the wall. Liam gave her a lazy smile. "Then I suppose I must content myself with a kiss, stolen from God."
His mouth came down on hers, and suddenly, he felt like he was indeed touching something sacred. Her scent was like the smells rising from a rich banquet laid out in front of him. He could hear her heart beating, the blood rushing through her veins. The warmth from her body stole the chill from his, and he felt like her life was entering him, like if only he could draw on it, he would be alive as he'd never been before . . .
-----
William had managed to catch up to Tara. "Miss Maclay, may I have a moment of your time?" he asked diffidently.
The witch sighed inwardly. She just couldn't get away from the vampires today. "Okay."
He drew her a little aside from the others. "Miss Maclay, I fear I've given you rather a wrong impression of myself. Believe me when I say my behavior last night was an anomaly, and I cannot explain or excuse it except perhaps to say that due to the rather bizarre occurrences of late, and the corrupting influence of that odious Irishman, I'm not quite myself. It would pain me no end to have lost whatever regard you have for me, Miss Maclay, and I most humbly beg your indulgence - and your pardon."
His manner was so sincere, and so unlike Spike's usual demeanor, that Tara's heart went out to him even as she remained baffled as to why the regressed vampire had picked her to crush on. "It's okay, William. I understand."
His face lit up with a totally un-Spike-ish smile. "You are indeed the kindest and most genteel of women, then. Perhaps at some time when this current crisis is past, you would consent to have tea with me?"
"William," Tara began, not at all sure of where to go from here. "William, I-I'm afraid that's not exactly . . ." She trailed off.
"Oh." William was visibly crestfallen. "Oh. Well. I quite understand, Miss Maclay. I am not the suitor you wish, then."
Tara felt like she'd committed a minor murder. "William, no, it's-it's not like that. You're very sweet. It's just that . . ." She decided to just spit it out. "I'm a lesbian."
"Lesbian?" William looked puzzled. "I'm afraid I don't understand what your nationality has to do with . . . I say, was that a scream?"
Just then, Buffy sprang up from the table, leaped over the couch, and bolted for the closed office.
"Most indecorous," sniffed William. "That young woman . . . Miss Maclay?"
Tara and the others raced to join Buffy at the office door, which she'd kicked open. Inside was an incongruous tableau. Cordelia stood frozen against one wall, eyes wide with fear and locked on Liam, who was curled up in the opposite corner, covering his face. One of Cordelia's hands rose and touched her neck. That was when everyone noticed the two tiny streaks of blood on it.
"Cordy, you okay?" demanded Buffy.
"I-I . . ." Cordelia swallowed hard. "I'm okay."
"He attacked you?" asked Xander, glaring angrily at Liam's cowering form.
Cordelia looked at the blood on her fingers, dazed. "He-he didn't mean to. He didn't know . . ."
Wesley brushed past Buffy and went to Cordelia, examining her neck briefly, then leading her back to the group. "She's all right, but I think Angel's- "
"Everybody else leave," ordered Buffy. Wesley looked at her. "Leave. I'll handle this."
Slowly, reluctantly, everyone but Buffy withdrew from the room. She entered completely then, drawing the door shut behind her before she crossed the room to kneel in front of Liam.
He was murmuring something under his breath, barely speaking audibly. Buffy listened.
"I'm a monster," he was saying, again and again.
"Angel. Liam," she said gently, and reached out to touch him.
He cringed, turning his face as far away from her as he could, hiding. "No! I'm a monster, a demon. Stay away!"
"It's okay," she reassured him. "I've seen you like this before. It's okay, Liam. Just try to relax. Breathe. I know you don't need to, but it helps. Just relax."
Buffy continued her soothing monologue, stroking his hair and touching his hands as she did so. Little by little, the tension ebbed from his shoulders, and finally, he raised his human face from his hands.
"What am I?" he whispered.
"A-a vampire," Buffy answered. "But-"
"How long?" Liam interrupted before Buffy could explain further.
"About 250 years."
"I tried to bite her." Liam swallowed. "I drink blood . . . I kill."
"No, you don't," Buffy countered. "Not anymore."
"Not anymore?" He looked at her. "How many did I . . ?" Buffy paused, and Liam demanded again, "How many?"
"I-I'm not sure. I don't know. A lot."
There was silence then. Liam's eyes grew dark, haunted, and Buffy suddenly saw how Angel could have grown out of this carefree young man.
"Liam," she said urgently, leaning even closer to him. "Liam, you have to listen to me. That's not you anymore. That's-"
"My family," he interrupted again. "What happened to my family?"
Buffy froze. That was one question she was completely unprepared to answer. "They're dead," she finally said. "It's been centuries."
"How did they die?" Liam pressed.
Buffy couldn't answer. She didn't have to. Liam's eyes grew wide with horror.
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," Liam breathed. "I didn't - I couldn't have . . . Did I kill them?"
"You weren't - you weren't yourself," Buffy whispered through a tight throat.
The horror only grew in Liam's face. "No. No, please tell me no. My father, my mother . . . what about Kathy? Little Kathy?"
Buffy closed her eyes. "Liam . . ."
"Did I kill them?!" Liam shouted.
And Buffy could only answer, "Yes."
"Dear God. Sweet Jesus." Liam rocked back and forth. "I'm a monster."
"Liam, please . . ."
"Mother, Father, Kathy. Sweet little Kathy."
"Liam, you have to listen to me-"
"My baby sister. What have I done? My little dearie . . ."
"Liam!" Buffy grabbed his face in her hands. "You didn't have your soul back then. You couldn't stop yourself. But it's not that way anymore. You're good. You help people. You've helped me before, and I need you now. I need you!"
"Sweet little Kathy . . ."
"You can't help her now!" Buffy burst out. Liam stared at her, shocked, and Buffy went on. "You can't. I know you wish . . . but you can't. That's why you help other people. Right now, my own little sister is missing. I love her just as much as you loved your Kathy. Dawn's alone and in danger, and you can help me find her."
"How do you know?" Liam whispered.
"Because I know you," Buffy stated firmly. "You've always been there for me when I needed you. You're someone I've always been able to turn to when things are at their worst." She took his hands in hers. "Please, Liam, Angel, help me now."
He disentangled one of his hands from hers and brought it up to cup her face. "I will try," he whispered. Buffy covered his hand with hers. "Do you know me well, Buffy?"
"I do. You're a good man," she reassured him. "Things are just . . ."
"Complicated?" he ventured. She nodded, and he smiled just a little. "I'm beginning to understand." He bent forward and found her lips for the gentlest of kisses. "I'll help you find your sister. I don't know how, but I'll try. For Kathy."
"I know. I always know." Buffy stood and pulled him to his feet. "Come on. Let's do this. For Kathy."
-----
Dawn was precisely ten minutes late for dinner with Hayden. Unfortunately for her Inner Brat, that didn't inconvenience Hayden greatly, as Cassio was twenty minutes late. That left Dawn ten minutes to glare at Hayden, Nicole (who was wearing a stunning red evening gown), Ethan, and Kogue. Hayden chatted lightly with Nicole and Ethan as Dawn sulked, and eventually, the teen decided to join the conversation.
"I finally figured out who you are," she said to Ethan. "You turned me into a fairy on Halloween when I was eleven."
"Ah, yes, that Halloween," said Ethan, swirling the wine in his glass. "Some of my best work, that. Hope you had fun, ducks."
"Well, the flying part was kind of cool," Dawn admitted. "The stealing a baby part wasn't, though. Buffy was almost as freaked out as I was. Do you have any idea how long it took us to figure out who the parents were?"
"That sort of thing is what makes life interesting." Ethan winked at her over his wineglass. "Chaos. You ought to try it sometime."
"Apparently, you haven't seen her room," commented Nicole. Dawn rolled her eyes.
Cassio walked in just then, still in a ratty t-shirt and jeans. He acknowledged no one and sat at his place at the table, glaring at his empty coffee cup like he found it somehow offensive.
"Hey, Gianni," Dawn said.
"Hello, bambina," said the Italian. He scratched his head distractedly, dislodging the pen tucked behind his ear. "Where's my coffee?"
Hayden signaled a server, and within moments, a bowl of soup appeared before each person except Kogue. He received instead a large piece of raw meat. "Well, now that we're all here, we can talk about our project," said Hayden.
"Your project," corrected Dawn. "I don't have anything to do with it."
"Actually, you have a great deal to do with it," said Hayden. "Eat up. The soup's delicious. Gianni, I understand you overcame your last obstacle."
Cassio nodded, his mouth full. He swallowed and said, "It should be ready for testing tomorrow, if your people are as good as you think they are."
"Excellent. And you're ready, Mr. Rayne?"
"Whenever you are," said Ethan. "Fine piece of sorcery you've got set up for me. Not as much fun as the last, but far more profitable."
"Ah, yes." Hayden looked at Nicole. "On that account, how are our friends doing?"
"Baffled, as far as I can tell," said the psychic. "They have no idea what's going on."
"Are any of you planning to explain what you're yammering about?" demanded Dawn.
"Well, Dawn, Mr. Rayne here came up with a rather ingenious way to take your vampire friends out of the picture," explained Hayden with a nod to Ethan.
Dawn's eyes grew wide. "Did he kill them?"
" 'Course not," scoffed Ethan. "Death is too easy. The rest of your friends could've just stepped over a couple of piles of dust, and it would've pissed off the Slayer even more. What I've done will keep them occupied far longer. Chaos, ducks - it's stronger than death."
"Buffy won't let anything stop her from finding me," Dawn shot back.
"That's probably true," agreed Hayden. "Which is why we'll have to move you before long. Right now, we're at a critical stage, and all we really need is to keep your people nicely distracted until we can finish our testing. That shouldn't take too long."
Dawn rolled her eyes and set down her spoon with a thump. "Will you just explain what's going on, already?"
Hayden appeared unfazed by her display of temper. "Actually, I think it's time I did. Tell me, Dawn: have you ever heard of alchemy?"
"Nicholas Flamel, the Sorcerer's Stone, yeah," said Dawn. A round of blank stares met her. "God, doesn't anybody over 18 read Harry Potter? Yes, I know what it is. Turning lead into gold or something stupid like that."
Hayden chuckled. "It took me a moment to get your reference, but now I do remember. I sent my niece those books for Christmas, you know. In any case, you've got the basic concept. Alchemy was a minor obsession in the Middle Ages, but no one managed to actually do it except for one man: Fausto Tesorieri.
"I'd heard of Tesorieri through the work of another alchemist, and what I learned intrigued me. I finally managed to track his diaries down - in a library in Florence, would you believe. That was almost a decade ago. I put my top people to work translating them in hopes of discovering his secret. Unfortunately, he kept his most important notes in code, which is why I had to bring in Mr. Cassio here." Cassio's head popped up at the mention of his name. Hayden went on.
"Tesorieri constructed an alchemy engine that actually worked, Dawn. It was amazing, the work he put into it, the absolute genius of the design. It took years, but I finally managed to put together one of my own. But there's a problem with it: the original power source is missing.
"Tesorieri didn't use the Sorcerer's Stone - or, properly, the Philosopher's Stone - he used the Staff of Lythos. Now, you see, alchemy takes a great deal of energy, and Tesorieri finally figured out that the only way to concentrate that much energy was to channel it from other dimensions. That's what the Staff did. Unfortunately, it was lost centuries ago. I tried to track it down, but about a year ago, I finally gave up all hope and started looking for an alternative power source.
"I was just about at the end of my rope, Dawn, when Nicole felt a psychic earthquake from up in your neck of the woods. She sensed a multidimensional power so intense it could rip apart the universe."
"Me," said Dawn, not even slightly impressed.
"You." Hayden beamed at her. "The energy of the Key is strong enough to power my alchemy engine and put the last piece into my puzzle, Dawn. For the last few months, we've been working on altering the alchemy engine to work with your energy, and the time has come to test it."
The servers had come back in to remove the soup bowls and place the main course on the table. Dawn barely even looked at her food.
"Let me get this straight," she said. "You want to use a blob of universe- destroying energy for a get-rich-quick scheme?"
"Why not?" shrugged Ethan. He was apparently savoring his meal and the wine choices with it. "There are worse things than being rich."
"Is this all part of your plans for chaos, too?" asked Dawn sarcastically.
"No," replied Ethan. "I'm doing this for Hayden because he sprang me from that hellhole I was in. They were so uptight about sorcery there they wouldn't even let me have spices in my food."
Hayden waved away Dawn's objection. "I'm not doing this for the money, Dawn. I love the challenge. This is the greatest puzzle of my life, bringing together history, science, and the supernatural in one magnificent project. Why, just look at this team." He spread out his hands, indicating everyone in the room. "We have an English sorcerer, a demon originally from Siberia, a French psychic, an Italian cryptologist, a whole team of American, German, and Japanese engineers who, sadly, were not able to join us, and you - an energy Key of unknown origin, wrapped up in the flesh and blood of an all-American girl. This is the kind of thing I live for."
"You're freaking insane," Dawn stated bluntly. "You know, my friend Spike is a vampire without a soul, but he protects me because he likes me. You're supposed to have a soul, but you take me away from everything and everyone I love because of your pet project. I'm just a thing to you, just like I was to Glory. At least she admitted she was a monster." Dawn threw down her napkin. "Excuse me. I think I've got to barf now."
She stood up from her seat and stalked out of the dining hall. Enraged, she stormed her way back to her room. Just as soon as she'd reached the door, however, her arm was caught.
Nicole D'Armand's icy blue eyes met Dawn's. "You have much to learn about etiquette. Mr. Hayden is your host, and you will not be rude to him."
"Mr. Hayden is my kidnapper, and I'll do whatever I damn well want to," Dawn almost shouted back, yanking her arm free from Nicole's grasp.
"Listen, petite chienne," Nicole hissed. "You are being indulged because Mr. Hayden needs you for his 'pet project,' as you put it. If your attitude impedes him, he will not put up with it. And I am very much looking forward to teaching you some manners."
"And I am very much," said Dawn, mocking Nicole's accent, "looking forward to watching my sister kick your ass."
Nicole laughed, low and deadly. "Then you will be waiting a long time. As for this project, you had best pray it works. If it does not, Mr. Hayden will have to recoup his losses by selling the Key to the highest bidder." Dawn blanched. "How would you like that? Perhaps we could even find someone like Glory to take you. Someone to tie you up and slice you open to drain your blood. Shallow cuts . . ."
Dawn felt it: Nicole's touch in her mind, dredging up the horrifying memories of being tied up, waiting for her death, feeling the knife cuts, watching Buffy leap into the void. The psychic was deliberately bringing those memories to the fore, enjoying Dawn's discomfort.
And Dawn was suddenly furious again. As the emotions of that night came flooding back, the teen took them and imagined herself physically throwing them at Nicole, using them as a weapon.
Nicole flinched. Her right hand went to her side, just where Dawn had been cut the first time, and Dawn felt the psychic's mind withdraw. Nicole's face had gone white, and she was even shaking a little.
"If you can't handle it," said Dawn coldly, "stay out of my brain." The teen went into her room and slammed the door, leaving Nicole outside, badly shaken.
