by Clueless One
Rating: R
Disclaimers: BTVS & Angel belong to Joss Whedon, ME, UPN, and WB respectively. I'm just borrowing them for a bit.
Spoilers: All of Season Six set in an Alternate Season Seven
A/N: I'm kind of just jumping right in four months ahead of Grave. I am really in need a patient Beta Reader. Anyone willing to help please contact me at Clueless_One@wotmania.com. Thanks
Feedback: Please? I need feedback.
Prologue: Where did we go, and how did we get from there to here?
"It feels so good to realize.
What's in yourself and within your mind.
Let's find peace there." Creed -My Sacrifice
Somewhere in Egypt
In a dark musty cavern an ancient unmarked sarcophagus stood resting sideways undisturbed for centuries. The unmarked grave had been located in an area local tribes had called the Dying Grounds since before the birth of Christ. It had been an amazing archeological discovery buried deep within the sandy ground of Eastern Africa. Seven men and two women were working the find this day, none of them having any idea of what was buried beneath, that they would discover the ultimate mystery of the universe. Death.
Inside in the pitch black two golden eyes opened ripping strands of hard dried dead flesh. The creature moved its eyes back and forth in search of what had disturbed its slumber. It sensed its ancient enemy the sun, even buried under centuries of earth. But there was something else, something intoxicating. Blood, hot, fresh, and living. It could hear it pumping through their veins. Smell it, feel it rushing inside them, and getting ever closer. It had been so long. The craving returned stronger then ever, the need, the desire, only this time it would at last be satisfied. For the first time in millennia a creature that was nearly as old as mankind would feed. Then come nightfall it would be free to walk the earth again, free to hunt, free to rule, and free to kill the one who put it here.
***
"Is that-"
"Yes a sarcophagus."
"I wonder if there is anything left inside?" Thurston Wintrop had been about to ask when the bloody thing moved. A thump was heard from inside then the sound of shattering as something long and yellow protruded from it. The cavern was filled with screams as the nine archeologists started to run back the way they came.
He felt it a chill speed by him, then saw something blocking the ladder to the only exit. Gray hair hung to the ground. Brown yellowed chunks of dried flesh were plastered to the skeleton. And it's head was deformed large bones above the feral yellow shining eyes and pointed fangs. Oh God! Lord in heaven protect me.
Richard Fleng was a stout man with what Thurston had thought to have been a good head on his shudders. It was his expedition. His find. His death. Thurston watched him pull a revolver out and fire into the nightmare's torso and head with no effect. It reached out grabbing him roughly and pulling him to itself . Its mouth opened roughly and it buried its head into the man's neck. He screamed. They all screamed in the dark cavern running in circles, lights flashing around in the black crypt. They were trapped here, Thurston knew, and for some reason that didn't frighten him nearly as much as it should have. The group scurried to the back hurling every item they had at the creature but it continued drinking until the empty body of Richard Fleng fell lifelessly to the earth. It held its hand out, fingers cracking, moving for the first time in God knows how long as a rumbling noise passed its lips. They ceased moving.
Thurston had tried to step back, but found he could not. Looking around he saw none of them could. The creature stood in the dark cavern that was lit by the lights on the archeologists' hard-hats, and quickly four more of the men were drained before his eyes. It grabbed Bethany his research assistant, but instead of feeding from her as it had the others, it placed both hands to the girls head. More primitive grunts came from the creature, it stopped, shifted its body expanding. Old skin cracked and peeled breaking off in black and yellow chunks, revealing new, dark, exotic skin underneath. Its hair began to darken from a dead gray to a lush raven's black. Its body filling out into that of a woman, the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid his eyes upon. Thurston swallowed his fear being replaced by lust, as he stared at the naked form in front of him. Bethany fell to the ground a withered husk. She grabbed the only other man left and fed, blood poured down her chin dripping onto her breasts. She let the body fall rubbing the man's blood into her skin.
She circled Richards assistant Rebecca, reaching out cupping her face, and drew it to hers. Her mouth opened. Her tongue snaking out running along the edges of the girl's lip before pushing through. The kiss was wild, savage, breathtaking and left Thurston rigid. It was funny he told himself here he was about to die, yet all he could think of was the goddess in front of him, and what she was doing. Her body, her movements. Their movements. She obviously had allowed Rebecca to move again by the way she ground herself into her.... He watched her hands explore the girls body. Her mouth trailed its way to her neck before glistening fangs punctured milky skin. The dark goddess reached up running her finger nail across the top of her breast breaking the dark golden skin just above her nipple, blood began to trickle as she moved the girls head down her body. She stroked Rebecca's hair almost lovingly as she suckled. Then lay her down reverently. It was fascinating.
He was the only one left and she was staring at him, her face shifting, her forehead smoothing, golden eyes changing to a dark mahogany. "So many years, I forgot how...stimulating pleasures of the flesh were." She spoke in English, with a voice that was musical, seductive, and rich. Her hands roamed her body as she swayed forward. He was mesmerized. One hand touched his cheek, and he shivered at how such a cold embrace could be so full of fire. Her other hand worked down her stomach, tracing its way down her navel, reaching lower. She raised his face up, hers only inches from him. "It's so very," her fingers glistened as she brought one up to her mouth wrapping her tongue around one, "stimulating." She moaned. She took another finger ran it along his lips then pushed it slowly into his mouth.
"Do you want more?" She purred. Her knee ran up between his legs pressing into him. "Would you like to feast upon me? To be inside me? To be with me for eternity?" She asked, and he could feel her gaze on his neck. He couldn't answer, instead his answer was tilting his head, never taking his eyes off of her as her face shifted again. Pain. Mind numbing pain engulfed him as his blood began moving against its natural flow, being sucked out, then ecstasy replaced it, combining with rapture. His body gave out and he felt his head being guided to the cut on her breast. A metallic taste filled his mouth and eased down his throat. In those seconds before death a hunger was born in him he never knew existed.
***
Lilith stretched looking down at the bodies in disgust. So fleeting were their lives. So weak. Except for two, a potential darkness harboring in them that would grow to know no bounds when they woke. The others had been fodder their only worth food, and then only because she was desperate. One though she had drained of its very life's essence, and in doing so absorbed not only her life and beauty but her knowledge of this world as well. It was shocking and exciting. A world so very different then the one she had been locked away from. Still, some things would never change. Her kind would walk this earth till the day it burned. She could feel them, her children, though they had mixed far into the vileness of humanity. Thousands of generations removed from her. She smiled her mind finding some, some that were no more then ten generations. Amazing! Her family would be reunited and together they would usher in a new dawn.
First there would be the Slayer, the abomination that had locked her away. It would be here in this time. Its primal force occupying some young girl. The Slayer had been created to destroy her, and for thousands of years she had battled it in some form. Always it got away. Even when Its blood filled her body and the girl laid dead, The Slayer seemed to get away. Not again though. She knew how to stop It forever. It would pay, but it would take time. She was still weak, suffering, craving more blood. Soon, she knew, she would have the whole world to choose from and then blood would flow into her like a river feeding the ocean. The two fledglings would rise by nightfall, then they would hunt. She would regain her strength, and this place would again learn why her homeland was called the Grounds of Death. Then she would gather her family and destroy the Slayer.
***
LA.
"Yo! I've got winner." Gunn shouted as Cordelia stepped over the cords across the floor blocking his sight on her way to Angels lap.
"Like bloody hell you do! Little Miss Glow In The Dark got in my way."
"Oh give it up Spike. You're just mad you got your ass kicked by me...again."
"Poofter."
"Give me my control two-tone." Gunn laughed.
Spike handed him the control sighing in frustration. Truth was he knew he was hiding from his problems. That sooner or later he would have to head back to good ol' SunnyHell, but he couldn't help being overwhelmed thinking of how he wound up in LA, and at the bloody Hyperion no less. He had come here several months ago seeking Angel's help, after his soul had been restored, and when the guilt, and the lack of guilt for certain things, were becoming unbearable. He had stumbled out of the cave not sure what he was, or even who he was. Was he still Spike the vampire that had swept through Europe as though he were a plague of death, and had feasted on the blood of two Slayers. Was he the chipped demon who loved Buffy, the one being in the world who had matched him in every way, and who the very thought of made him feel alive. He had tried to change for her. Forsaken his very nature for her. He had learned what love truly was, for her. And he had cocked it up in the worst way imaginable, when the chips were down he had proved himself to be a monster.
Or was he again William the poet, a sniveling ponce who hid behind his books, a stuffy wanker worse then any Watcher could dream of becoming. Ah, but William had been a man. A man pure of heart and deed who could give Buffy the love she so deserved. He sighed, an odd habit that had garnered looks from the people in the room. Somewhere in those three months it became clear. He was both. After talking with the prancing poof who took him to see a flaming karaoke loving demon he found out his soul and demon were now one. Unlike Angel whose soul battled the demon for dominance Spike's had merged, becoming one entity for eternity. He smiled remembering Angel's face that night. He had truly one upped his Grandsire.
That was another thing. He had come seeking, needing, Angel's help hating the man all the while. Only instead he found himself forced into helping him. All he had found when he got here was Charles "bloody Harris 2.0" Gunn. The man reminded him of the twerp at first, though this bloke seemed like he could hold his own, and Fred. Gunn proved not to be so bad, but he was at a loss on how such a sweet looking girl could make him want to wrap his hands around her throat and strangle her just to make her shut the hell up. Soul or no soul, and the chip be damned, when the geek started rolling from her tongue she could drive a body to run and jump in tub of holy water. Bloody annoying is what she was. Kind of like Nibblet when he first met her...
The Watcher was gone, no longer part of the team when Spike had arrived, and talking of him was a strong taboo. Angel, his son, a hell of a shock that was, and the cheerleader were all missing. It appeared he had wasted his time until a bit of divine intervention showed up all glowy. She turned her back on the Powers That Be by returning and finding Angel. She was still part demon, and most of her powers remained, but no longer was she a Higher Being. She had chosen to be what she was, giving up what she became, for love. He got that, and it earned Cordelia Chase his respect. Not something many in the world had.
Seems Peaches had been locked in a box and left in the ocean by his son. Spike had liked the kid's idea, good spot of torture and the seawater had played hell with that Nancy-boy hair of his. They had looked for the brat but never found him.
Things were difficult at first between him and Angel, too much old, bad blood. But the old poof had helped him to understand a few things about himself. About who he was now. Angel never pressed him on how he got a soul, he could sense it, and oddly that was enough. As far as Cordelia was concerned their job was saving souls, it didn't matter who the soul belonged to. And the other two? They would follow Angel into Hell if he wanted.
Then a few weeks back, maybe more, the two of them were out on the Hollywood Hills killing some sort of fungus demon. Instead of leaving they had hung around reflecting on days gone by. Then after a few bottles it all came out. He told Angel exactly why he went to the Demon revealed everything to him. About himself and Buffy. He expected to be staked, hell he wanted to be. The guilt of what he had done was driving him mad. Instead Angel nodded the only thing he had said before changing the subject was: "I thought as much." It was at that moment Spike understood Angel had moved on and accepted that Buffy's life wasn't his any longer. More then that he had accepted Spike. It was odd the emotions that the soul had brought forth at that moment, and he had to admit he didn't quite hate the poof as much as he thought. The last week was spent with Angel trying to get him to go back to Sunnydale, and face his demons there.
Yet here he sat sandwiched between Gunn and the cute yet utterly annoying Fred, getting his ass handed to him in a sodding video game by his bloody Grandsire.
Cordelia suddenly stood up one hand pressing on her on her temple, a glazed over look in her eye that was now all too familiar. "Ok wow! Now that was new in a bad sort of way." She turned to look at him. "You know in the last three years we have had very few actual apocalypses here in LA."
"What's your point Lite-brite."
"Just that you come here and now we've had two in one week. It's not the Hell Mouth it's William The Bloody that causes all the trouble in Sunnydale."
"I could have told you that." Angel quipped then asked, "What did you see?"
"Back to back visions. One here in LA for us. It's nasty, apocalyptic but nasty, and killable in an eww gross sort of way. By the way I would like to thank the PTB's for allowing me to experience everything in my visions. Thank you very much!"
"Yeah that'll help. They're already pissed you left your sacred duty to sit around snogging their Champion."
"Spike!" They shouted in unison.
"The other is Sunnydale it's Drusilla she's there. She's after the Scoobies and Buffy. If you hurry you-"
Angel and his group was already gathering weapons by the time Spike had found a crossbow and was out of the door. The only thing going through his mind as the tires of his motorcycle squealed into the night was: Oh God not again. I can't lose her. Not again.