A VISIT FROM THE DARK MASTER
by Soledad
A ''Pathways in the Dark'' stand-alone story.
Re-write of the BtVS Season 5-opener ''Buffy vs. Dracula.
Disclaimer: The Three Sisters are originally from the TV episode, but I modified them, based on the three witches from "Charmed".
Rating: PG-13, for violence.
Author's note: Some of the dialogue is taken directly from the TV episode. The rest is based on information found on various Lasombra-websites.
CHAPTER THREE: FIRST ENCOUNTER
Sunnydale, 22nd September 2000Angel's old mansion, next to the cemetery
"What do you think?" Nahir turned around expectantly.
His guise was perfect: black slacks, boots and waistcoat, a blood-red silk shirt, complete with a long back cape. His face chalk white, his dark hair falling freely over his collar, barely reaching his shoulders, his fangs elongated, but true face still under tight control.
The Three Sisters – once three powerful mortal witches whom he had turned in a single night – gave enthusiastic nods, their golden eyes burning.
"You could star in any Dracula movie, Master," Prudence, the eldest said with appreciation. "If Lasombra showed up on film at all, that is."
"Yeah, the only thing I'll always regret about my unlife," Phoebe, the youngest, added. "You have Embraced us in our best possible shape, and nobody will ever see it. Nobody from the movie industry, I mean."
Spike shook his head, grinning. "So, you truly want to go with the old 'Vlad the Impaler' routine? Why?"
Nahir shrugged. "Well, for one thing, he's famous."
"Famous!" Spike snorted. "Two-third of his fame is actually based on your abilities, your achievements – and the rest is just folklore. The true Vlad Tepes may be a venerable Inconnu now, but in his active days he was nothing but a stupid and brutal monster."
"So were you," Nahir pointed out. "And you didn't even have the excuse of being Tzimisce."
"I thought Tzimisce were valorous allies," Spike remarked, lighting a cigarette.
"And venomous rivals, often simultaneously," Nahir replied. "Above that they are despicable, inhuman, idiotic, monstrous and not very nice either. I don't even trust the Old Clan types, and they're supposed to be on our side."
"Which raises the question, of course, just which side is ours," Spike riposted. "I'm not into that mafia don game the Camarilla types like to play so much, though I guess Angelus would have his grand old time, should he actually be elected as the Prince of L.A."
"I think we could be sure that he would," Nahir said. "And that would be fortunate, too. The Camarilla has its unquestionable advantages."
"Yeah, it's acceptable, if you're talking about a Kine institution," Spike shrugged nonchalantly. "If you're a blood-sucking devil of the night, though, why hide from those upon whom you prey?"
"Because it can save you from the inconvenience of being caught by secret military organizations that put little pieces of hardware into your skull, perhaps?" Page, the middle one of the Tree Sisters asked mildly.
"Stop bickering, Childer," Nahir ordered with a frown. I need you to focus – all of you. This is the most important thing in the last century or so; if we fail now, the consequences can't be foreseen."
"I still don't understand what you need Buffy for," Spike said.
"I don't need Buffy Summers personally," Nahir fought his impatience. "I need a Slayer. An exceptionally strong one. I'd prefer Faith, she'd be a lot more apt to our goals, but we can't break her out of prison, not without help. Time and secrecy are important factors here."
"The Hunter who becomes one with her prey shall keep the Hellgate from opening and the Old Ones from awakening," Prudence quoted. "Anatole's visions don't tell us the exact date, but their urgency clearly states that the time is near. The Master has to take great risks – and it's our job to help him."
"All right, all right, I'll do what I can," Spike flailed his arms, agitated. "In times like these it becomes clear for me why I've become an Anarch."
"You can rebel later all you want," Nahir commented dryly. "But I count on you in this thing, William. Do not disappoint me."
His voice was silky-dangerous now, and Spike had the common sense to shut up and obey. Doing otherwise would have earned him a fate much worse than the cruelest beating he'd ever received from Angelus as a fledgling. Nahir was not just a Lasombra – which was bad enough as Sabbat go – he was a Lasombra antitribu, who supported the Camarilla, without being formally a part of it. He worked with Tremere warlocks, partially overcoming the hereditary Lasombra weakness of not showing up in a mirror or on film. It was very well possible that the Three Sisters, too, would reach this state in a few centuries. So Phoebe might get her wish after all.
"Yes, Master," Spike said loudly, his tone just petulant enough to sound less than eager.
"Good. For a while you'll have to return to your crypt, as the Slayer's little friends will undoubtedly turn to you for information about Dracula. You do know what you have to tell them…?" It wasn't really a question.
"Of course," Spike replied indignantly. Nahir nodded.
"Very well. My daughters will do a few… improvements on this mansion; mostly illusions, we don't really need to build a castle here overnight. I assume the Nosferatu will cooperate."
"They know what's at stake here," Page said quietly. "I've spoken to them last night. They'll help us."
"In that case," Nahir looked at Spike," show me the Slayer's hunting ground."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
They watched from safe distance as the seemingly fragile blonde fought with a big hunk of a vampire.
"She is on the roll tonight," Spike remarked in a voice too low even for the Slayer's enhanced senses to hear. Nahir nodded contently.
"She plays with her prey like a cat plays with the mouse. She has grown fond of the killing. Does she come out hunting every night?"
"Sometimes more than just once," Spike said. "She has grown into a real predator. She doesn't hunt for keeping the Kine safe any longer. She hunts because she enjoys the hunt. Because she needs it."
"They all reach this level sooner or later," Nahir replied calmly; "assuming, they live long enough. Few of them do, though."
"Creatures like you and I see that they don't," Spike riposted, and Nahir nodded again.
"Of course. We can't allow the Slayer to outgrow her destiny, or she would learn to find us and destroy us like she does with the idiotic minions of the Caitiff… or the Sabbat."
"Could she learn to do that?" Spike asked uncomfortably, watching the Slayer's deadly dance with the newly awakened minion.
The guy had no chance, obviously. Buffy let him have the one or other move, though she could have defended every single one of them. It was very clear that she enjoyed the fight enormously, without a moment of doubt of its outcome.
"She could and she will," Nahir answered, "just like that other Slayer you killed in New York had, the black woman. She was the most dangerous one in the last three hundred years – until the current one."
"So, either you succeed to turn Buffy, or we'll have to kill her?" Spike asked with a frown. Angelus would not like these choices. Neither of them. Nahir shook his head.
"On the contrary. We'll have to support her, whether I succeed or not. Even if I fail, she'll be needed in the upcoming big fight. We can't face the Apocalypse with a novice Slayer."
Spike thought about that for a moment. As much as he trusted Nahir's uncanny abilities, Buffy was anything but predictable – and she was stronger than any Slayer Spike had met in his 150 years of existence, save perhaps Faith.
"You are taking a great risk, Master," he finally said.
"I do," Nahir replied, "but there's too mach at stake to do otherwise. Oh… she has dusted the minion. That was quick. Now watch!"
Drawing the Living Darkness around himself like a second cape, he seemingly turned into mist, only to solidify again behind the Slayer who was tucking the stake in the waistband of her pants with a frighteningly satisfied smile.
"Very impressive hunt," Nahir said in a low voice, full of admiration. Spike couldn't decide whether it was genuine or faked. "Such power…."
Buffy whirled around, grabbing the stake again, still running high on adrenaline.
"That was no hunt," she replied flippantly. "That was just my daily job." Seeing the unknown vampire closing, she adjusted the stake in her hand. "Care to step up for some overtime?"
Nahir gave her an amused look. So, the Slayer was about to become over-confident? That could be a dangerous thing – for her."
"We are not going to fight," he told her, keeping up the clichéd Dracula manners. The Kine were so easy to manipulate. Even those who should know better.
Just as he had expected, Buffy switched to the equally clichéd threats.
"Do you know what the Slayer is?" she asked silkily.
Nahir caught her eyes, extending his ancient will over her young, inexperienced and quite superficious mind.
"Do you?" he replied slowly, hypnotically.
She didn't. Obviously. One vision quest with her Watcher, one meeting with the First Slayer – a creature just as savage and merciless and insane as any Malkavian – was way too little to understand the dark powers given to her by warlocks more powerful than any other sorcerers who ever tread the Earth afterwards.
Nahir was careful not to reveal more than a shadowy hint of the truth, but she was shaking already nevertheless. The girl might not be very smart, but her instincts worked flawlessly. In fact, they were better developed and more finely honed than any other Slayer's he had met – and killed – during his long life.
"Who… who are you?" she stammered.
Nahir let her mind go. It would have been very dangerous to allow her to guess more right now – for both of them. It was time to return to his ridiculous disguise.
"I apologize," he said with a polite nod; "I assumed you knew. I am Dracula.
Her eyes darkened with anger, as if she had been cheated – which, in a sense, she was, of course.
"Get out!" she hissed angrily.
TBC