**
Slayer and the Slave won awards!
Two! The Unfinished Symphony Award for Best WIP, and the
Master Award for Best Fic, at the
Spike Threw the Heart Awards. This is so cool! My fic, "I
Feel Fine," also won the Top Slayer Award for Best Buffy
Characterization. Check out my awards at my site!
**
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Liam muttered a curse under
his breath. Where were they? He turned a corner down an abandoned
alley. He had rarely been around this part of the city; it was the
poorest slums in town, beggers on every street corner. But he knew
his way around well enough; for a few brief weeks when he was younger,
he had lived here, before Giles had taken him in. He had never wanted
to come back.
But Buffy was in trouble.
And she was always his weakness.
He debated taking the left
street from the corner, but changed his mind and took the right path.
The streets were quiet under the waning light; almost too quiet. Liam's
senses were on alert. Find Buffy, kill Riley, get out of here. That
was his mindset, and that was going to happen. Buffy was his weakness,
but when it came to her safety, he had an iron will.
He heard a small sound from
a cottage down the dirt road and took of in that general direction,
his heart beating faster every second the sun slipped beneath the horizon.
Darkness was falling.
He just hoped he could find
her before it was too late.
He ran as fast as his legs
could carry him.
The wooden door creaked open,
immediately putting Buffy on alert. Doors did not just open for no
reason. Especially in bad neighborhoods. At least she was smart enough
not to fall for that.
Despite her instincts, the
door was looking more and more appealing with each passing minute.
She paused to listen for any more sounds, but the street was silent.
Silent as the dead, Buffy thought and shivered.
But then the dead weren't always
so silent.
Something called to her from
behind the door, pulling her. In an almost zombie-like state, she stepped
closer and closer. It seemed like a light was coming from behind the
door. Go to it, go in! a voice in her brain called to her, controlling
her movements; her legs stepping on their own accord.
Her trembling hands reached
the wooden surface of the door, finding it surprisingly solid and hard
beneath her touch. At least the door was real.
She opened the door, and holding
her breath stepped inside.
"Buffy!" a voice
yelled, startling her out of her dreamstate. She turned to the door,
but it slammed immediately. She tried her luck with the handle, at
first thinking it was burst of wind that had shut the door, but she
pulled with all her might. She had enhanced strength because of the
Slayer calling, so she pulled with the strength of ten men.
The door would not budge.
It seemed magically glued in place.
She was stuck in this place.
She looked around the small
cottage; no windows cut in the walls to let in the rising moonlight.
Great, she thought. Why did she come in here again? She couldn't really
remember.
A table sat in the center of
the room, a large book resting on it. It looked old, centuries maybe;
a permanent layer of dirt and grime had taken over its surface. No
matter how hard you scrubbed, you could never get it completely clean.
It was a sturdy, leather bound
volume decorated with gold inlay. As she stepped closer, the whole
room seemed to buzz and a ringing in her ears started to sound.
"VAMPYR"
Written on the cover in strong
bolded letters, it should have repulsed Buffy's interest; it should
have pushed her back.
But it didn't.
It only drew her closer.
The odd buzzing grew louder
as she reached out for the book. She placed her hands on its leather
surface, and a strange jolt went through her, followed by a feeling
of warm familiarity.
The book was testing her.
Blood and intentions.
It seemed she had passed, for
as soon as she removed her hand, the clasp flipped undone and opened
the book, startling Buffy.
Looking down at it's old pages,
some burnt, others decaying from age or distress, her eyes widened.
They were all blank.
"Buffy!" Angel called,
watching her enter the cottage in slow motion. "Buffy!" he
called again, racing to the doorway with all the speed he could muster.
It was truly dark now, moonlight
shone on the quiet street under Liam. Shadows overtook him as he struggled
helplessly with the door. "Buffy!" he yelled again, even
more urgently pulling at the door. Seeing his ineffectiveness, he gave
up on the door and ran around the perimeter of the house, trying to
find an alternate way in.
Darla watched from the shadows,
gleeful as her plans went into effect. She watched the princess enter
the cottage, and laughed as the door slammed behind her. "Perfect,"
she said to no one in particular.
"Buffy!"
Darla raised a cool eyebrow
at Liam's approaching figure, and his subsequent attempt to enter.
"Interesting," she said, "Very interesting."
Liam ran around the cottage,
trying to find some way in. Darla laughed at his hopeless quest-- there
was only one way in-- through the front door. And Darla had cast the
spell that locked it.
She followed him.
She would take care of this
small problem. The Slayer wasn't getting out anytime soon, and as long
as she kept the spell going, nobody was going in. Liam was a minor
annoyance, if an interesting one. He would have to be turned now--
he was strong and intelligent, and Darla couldn't afford for him to
be allying with the Slayer. She had planned to do so anyway, by natural
means, but Liam had resisted her at every corner. Oh well, she sighed,
a little annoyed she had spent a full year on trying to turn him only
to do it now. Anticlimactic, she supposed. He would have to be taken
by force.
Liam searched in vain for another
entrance, circling the house again just in case he had missed anything.
He stood at the front door, when a soft voice called to him.
"Oh, Liam," the
voice called, and Angel groaned. He knew that voice. Unfortunately,
he knew that voice rather well.
"Darla," he said
through gritted teeth, his patience waning. He didn't turn around;
he was too busy studying the main door, trying to find his way into
Buffy.
If he had turned around, he
would have seen Darla's approach.
She walked slowly towards his
figure, walking with the refined grace of a predator. She was the Huntress.
And he was the Hunted.
She came up behind him, her
arms coming around his neck with a powerful force. She was a small
woman, smaller than Buffy, but her strength surprised him.
"Darla," he choked
out, her grasp inhibiting his speech, "What are you doing?"
She giggled, but her next words
were unlike any Liam had ever heard her speak. They were cold and menacing,
not at all like her usually dulcet tones.
"Killing you," she
said, venom lacing her tongue, "Can't have you alive now, can I?"
Laim struggled under her hold,
his movements desperate and erratic as she slowly cut off his air supply.
"It's pointless to fight,"
she said quietly into his ear, "In a few seconds, you'll pass out,
and then I'll drain you of your blood and you shall sip mine. You shall
rise as a vampire before the sunrise."
Laim struggled with renewed
vigor at her words, feeling her contorted face against his skin; once
smooth planes turned to ridges at his neck. He flailed his arms about,
trying to throw her off long enough to reach into his boot.
His knife.
He grabbed it and stabbed behing
his shoulder, catching Darla deeply in the chest. She froze and her
arms fell away from his neck, as she gingerly pulled the knife from
her body. A fire started behind her eyes as her menace increased, "You'll
pay for that."
But her distraction had broken
the spell that held the door, and it opened with a force, as Buffy fell
out into the street, for she had obviously tried to push it open.
"Slayer," Darla hissed,
her hand covering her wound, compressing the bleeding flesh. She growled
as if Buffy's very presence was causing physical pain.
"Riley!" she yelled,
still growling in Buffy and Liam's direction. She spit at them. "This
could have been easy, Slayer. I would have killed you and raised the
Judge with no problems. But now you're going to suffer. And you're
going to curse the day you were born. You're going to wish you never
fought back."
Riley came to her, still entranced,
and she pulled him down to her. Razor sharp fangs tore his jugular
with one fell swoop.
"Present for you, Slayer.
One life you've failed to save. I'm make sure there are more. All
of their blood will be on your hands."
She threw a limp Riley down
on the ground and retreated into the shadows.
Buffy stood shaking by the
door of the cottage, the large book still in her trembling hands.
A pale-faced Angel reached
down to Riley's crumpled form, fingers immediately doused in blood.
No breath came from Riley, no movement.
He was still.
He was dead.
**
END CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
A/N- Okay guys, another chapter.
Happy New Years to everyone, btw! I wanted to get this out before the
new year. The last chapter of 2003! With many more in 2004!
Review, por favor. I spent
a long time on this chapter, and it was pretty hard to write, so tell
me how I did! Review! The more reviews I get, that aren't just from
Balloonphobia, the faster the updates come.
I thank anyone who reviewed
last chapter:
Lori- Many thanks for
your uber-faithful reviews. You always seem to be the first reviewer
per chapter!
PunkyCowgirl- Haha.
I knew what you were talking about. I was making a joke. :) Thanks
for reviewing, and Happy Belated Birthday!
Jess- I'm trying! I'm
glad you think the story is getting better and better. I think so too.
I'm especilally proud of this chapter.
AngelRose4- Sweet AngelRose,
I thank you for your faithfulness. I do my best. Smoochies will come,
rest assured.
Ravenroses- Thanks for
reviewing! I love new reviewers. Say happy birthday to your sis for
me.
Lady Moiraine- You
know my opinions and how much I appreciate your reviews. A lot. I thank
you. And that thrall-ey thing story sounds enteraining. Go for it and
write it!
Kendra- I thank you
for your praise and suggestions, and your faithful reviewing.
Ballonphobia- 3
That is all I have to say.
Review peoples!
Sundevil009@yahoo.com