Previously,

Buffy nodded "So now you're half human, half vampire"

Spike couldn't help it, he smirked,

"Yea, pretty much"

A/N: I'm very sorry for the slow updating, apparently my social studies professer is trying to make life hell for me. He's assigned two essays that are to be completed ASAP.BLAH. I've also haven't had access to the computer in a very long time.

Disclaimer: You could sue me, but I've got nothing to get sued over.

Chapter 8--"Plans"

Six kilometers north of London lies a small estate that once belonged to the Crown of England. It became a medical hospital during World War II for wounded soldiers until it was destroyed by German fighter planes. Then in the 60's it was restored by a rich stock broker, who now used to land for "tax purposes". Naturally this thirty-acre plot was an ideal location of the Tyrus to claim as their own.

Lysander walked up to the front gates and was immediately stopped by two stocky demons who wielded two large lances.

"C'rhrest yyeul heure?" Demanded the shorter of the two guards.

Lysander sighed, reaching for the one of the numerous pockets in his white robes, he pulled out a piece of papyrus.

Handing it to the guard he waited impatiently for the guard to give him access. Not too long ago, Lysander would have been welcomed into the Tyrus' lair with open arms. Of course that was before Demetrius had died. Now that Demetrius was gone, Lysander was considered scum amongst the demons. Of course once he had his vengeance on the slayer, all that would change.

"Ferual" the short guard gave the paper to his partner, the taller demon nodded his head and they both stepped aside.

With his head held high, Lysander walked through the gates. Before him the land was barren, the remains of old trees littered the walkway. Blood stained stones scattered everywhere, flashing red in the sunlight.

Just ahead of him was a sword, and on it was the head of an Acrylos warrior. A warning to all those who didn't have business with the Tyros. But Lysander payed no heed to the threat and continued to walk on until he came to the main entrance of the Le Palais de Mort, the palace of death.

Reaching for the brass door knocker, he tapped it three times and then waited. Nobody answered. Reaching for the knocker Lysander banged it against the door, and yet nobody answered. Frowning he peered into one of the windows. He couldn't see much through the dirty glass, but was able to make out several figures walking through the hall.

Appalled that the Tyrus dared to ignore him, Lysander reached for the door knob and tried to turning it, but to no avail. With a frown etched across his wrinkled features, Lysander reached for stone and smashed the door knob. With a small grin plastered onto his face, he pushed the door open and quietly stepped inside.

The room was poorly furnished. It's furniture faded and covered in dust, just like everything else in the room.

Lysander walked further, until a voice stopped him.

"What do you want?" The voice was hard and uninviting, the bearer of the voice clearly unhappy. But to Lysander, it was the voice of an old friend.

"How have you been doing Themis?" he said.

Themis regarded Lysander carefully, he had changed, that much was certain. But so had he. Themis remembered the day when Lysander and he had practiced magicks together. They were such good friends back then, until Lysander met that oaf named Demetrius. After that the two separated their ways, never seeing each other again.

And now here was Lysander after all those years. His robes were old and frayed, his face wrinkled with age. Unlike Themis, Lysander walked in his human face, hiding his fangs from the slayer, trying to be on good terms with the wrong kind. Coward.

"My welfare is none of you concern." Themis started, "You have come here with business to attend to and I suggest you tell me what it is or I'll have my guards kill you."

It was then that Lysander realized they weren't alone, they were surrounded by minions, all with their fangs bared, ready to kill.

But Lysander refused to show fear. "Very well, it is to my understanding that we both share a common cause."

Themis smirked, "Do we now? And pray, do tell what would that be?"

"We both want the Slayer's witch dead."

Themis laughed, "My friend you are mistaken, I sent out my best executioner out days ago to kill her."

"And he succeeded," Lysander said, "The witch by the name of Willow is dead, but The Powers That Be have given her another chance".

"How could that be"

"How am I supposed to know? The Powers have never taken to any side, sometimes they help the slayer, and sometimes they help us."

Themis was angry, this new piece of information made many complications in him well thought of plan, but was it true?

"How do I know this is fact?"

Lysander looked up sharply, "Because I want the witch dead as much as you do"

"And why is that"

"The slayer killed Demetrius."

Themis nodded, he should have known. Lysander never went anywhere without his mentor. The only exception was when said mentor died.

"I should have known, you would do anything for that cheeky bastard."

Lysander's eyes were begging, "Please, hear me out, I cannot kill the slayer with magic if she has a witch to defend herself with. Now that the witch has another chance to life, I need someone to kill her for me again. It's quite simple really, you kill the witch, I kill the slayer. It's like killing two birds with one stone."

Themis nodded, this plan was actually quite appealing to him.

"I'll consider you offer."

Finally, another chapter posted. I've got pretty much the whole story written down in my notebook, It's actually retyping them into my wordprocesser that I hate doing.

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--Gee