"You're goin' where?" Ron's eyes were wide.

            "Los Angeles. With Spike and Sirius."

            "But … when?"

            "Tonight. Soon as the sun sets there. Should be a couple of hours from now."

            "I don't get why you haveta go."

Harry glanced around; the two of them were alone in the infirmary with the two sleeping girls. Madame Pomfrey had given the girls a sleeping draught to make sure they slept properly on their final night in the infirmary. The girls wouldn't hear anything. He briefly considered Dumbledore's warning, but Ron needed to know. Not about the prophecy – not yet, anyway – but there was no good reason to keep the information about Spike from him. Hermione was certain to know it already, based on what Professor Giles had said. The three of them were in this together, and Harry had had enough of secrets to last a lifetime. Either they trusted each other or not. Hermione and Ron had made it their war, and Harry wasn't going to keep them out of it.

He sketched out what he had heard at the meeting. When Ron asked how they knew it was his blood, Harry pointed to the scar.

            "Wicked," Ron said when Harry pointed. Then without hesitating he added, "I'm going with you."

            "What – no, you're not, Ron. You need to be here with the girls."

            "In case what? Bugger all's gonna happen to 'em in the infirmary, and they'll be sleeping through the night. Besides," he said seriously, "you're my best mate, Harry. No way am I lettin' you go after a vampire king without me watchin' your back. Not a bloody chance."

            "Besides the fact that no one else will let you go, it's way too dangerous."

            "Says the eleven year-old who took me with him to fight You Know Who."

            Harry gave him a hard glare. "Ron, no."

            Ron glared right back. "Harry, yes."

            "Your mum'll kill us both. She's still asleep in the guest quarters, remember?" Every Weasley but Fred and George, who were in Sunnydale, had guest rooms at Hogwarts while Ginny healed. Molly had been so hysterical that Madame Pomfrey had been forced to sedate her.

            "Not that I'm keen to get in the way of a master vampire, but mum would be worse. She'd kill me for lettin' you go alone."

            Harry could see there was no budging Ron; his heart really wasn't in trying, either. He wanted his friend there as much as his friend wanted to be there.

            "Alright," he said after a few seconds' pause. "Let's go get changed."

            They were gone for ten minutes before one of the shadows detached itself from the wall and slipped away silently in the direction of the owlery.       

            It was a somber group that stepped through the Hyperion lobby fireplace a few hours later. Sirius, Remus, Harry, and Ron all wore black robes, the boys with Gryffindor patches on theirs. Spike had opted for his villain costume: black jeans and a black t-shirt under a red silk shirt, all covered by his leather duster. Faith wore her white t-shirt and dark denim ensemble, with stakes in the waistband and a mini-crossbow on her wrist. Somehow dressing for evil made both Spike and Faith feel stronger when they fought on the side of right. They didn't discuss it, but they each recognized it in the other, and that gave them some perverse comfort as well.

Convincing Sirius and Remus to let Ron come along had taken some shouting, a bit of cajoling, a fair amount of demanding, and a touch of whining, but in the end it took far less time than Harry had thought it would. Sirius had, however, made them swear not to tell Molly Weasley, who he knew would debut several recipes for wolf and dog meat if she found out they had brought Ron along.

            All of Angel Investigations turned out to meet them. They were armed to the teeth, sides and backs bristling with armaments of steel and wood.

            "Who knew that you had friends?" Angel said as Spike and Sirius stepped out of the fireplace, the last to arrive.

            "Stuff it, Angel. None o' that bullshit tonight."

            The others took in Angel's obvious shock at being called by his name. Spike was nervous and letting it show. That almost never happened around Angel, and the elder vampire shut his mouth.

            "So, what's the sitch, kids?" Faith asked.

            "We checked it out," Gunn answered. "He's there, but something could be up. Guard's doubled and the Don's camped out in the courtyard with the amazon vamp and some burly looking henchmen. He's also got a bunch of clowns in green robes getting chanty on the perimeter."

            "Did the robes have snakes on them?" Remus asked. Gunn shook his head. "Well, Death Eater ceremonial robes are green, with snakes running along the arms. Otherwise, I believe they only wear the black. Not that I would expect him to associate with Death Eaters if Voldemort is pitted against him."

            "Probably Relechero shamans from Tijuana," Angel said. "They do a lot of defensive spellwork. Very talented, very pricey. It means he's scared."

            "Anybody bother to ask why this Voldemort cat is after the Don?" Gunn asked. "Seems a little out of the way, don't it? A vampire in Los Angeles?"

            "The Don's not the only one with seers," Remus suggested. "It could be that he poses a threat to Voldemort in some way."

            "Like stopping his renegade angel from taking Buffy out of the game?" Ron asked. Everyone turned and looked at him.

            "Damn," Wesley said. "We should have thought of that. I think we had better hurry," he suggested. The others nodded.

            "Alright," Angel said, "here's our plan."

            At two in the morning, Beverly Hills was eerily silent. Ron and Harry clutched their wands tightly in their sweaty hands. The plan made them nervous, but they had neither the age nor the experience to question it. Everyone but Sirius had readily agreed, and as a result of his protests Angel was accompanying the three of them, along with Spike, into the courtyard. The others had their own assignments, and Harry hoped they could carry them off. If not, and something went wrong, the team in the courtyard would be in very big trouble.

            "It's killin' me," Ron whispered as they crossed the street in front of the Don's mansion, "but I almost wish Malfoy was with us."

            Harry nodded, but not without a chagrined look. The blonde wizard might be an almost-evil bastard, but he had talent, and they worked well together. They hadn't seen Malfoy since before Halloween, and couldn't have risked approaching him under any circumstances.

            The group of five reached the tall gate, both Ron and Harry marveling at the size of the vampire's muggle home. Spike called out to the two sentries, who attended them swiftly.

            "Yeah?" The lead one wore a black suit with no shirt. A gold necklace dangled on his pale, hairless chest.

            "Here to see the Don," Spike said. "Got what he's looking for." Spike gestured to Harry.

            The vampire sighed unnecessarily. "About time. These extra shifts are killing me, man, and I'm already dead." He gestured to someone they couldn't see and the gate swung open. "He's getting mad paranoid, man. You don't even know."

            He led them up the driveway and through the impressive house, chattering the whole way about how hard the Don was making them work.

            "… I'll tell you, I ain't had time to get a woman in months, man. Human or vampire. I'm going crazy." The vampire shook his head and opened the door to the inner courtyard. "Go on in. He's expecting you."

            Inside the courtyard, Ron and Harry could only gape some more. Ten vampires ringed the Don, all with muggle guns in their hands. Around them was the largest circle of sorcerer's sand Harry had ever seen, and beyond that a dozen sorcerers, all wearing the green robes Gunn had described.

            The Don himself sat on a raised chair, almost a throne. The tallest woman Harry had ever seen knelt by his side, her hand in his. She was obviously a vampire.

            "Whoa," Ron said, observing her well-tailored black leather jumpsuit.

            "William? Is that you?" The Don leaned forward in his chair. He didn't seem very healthy to Harry, even for a vampire. His skin was far paler than Spike's, and his cheeks were shrunken and wrinkled as if he had recently lost a lot of weight. "It's about time! I've been waiting for weeks."

            "Took some time to find out who you wanted," Spike said. He boldly led their team inside the protective circle and past the armed guards to stand before the throne.

            Ignoring the rest of them, the Don's eyes raked Harry hungrily.

            "This is the one. The Potter boy, the Boy Who Lived." He was practically drooling. Harry felt Sirius shift uneasily next to him and saw Angel and Spike trade a quick glance. "Of course – I should have known. Come here, boy."

            Harry looked to Spike, who shook his head.

            "Not jus' yet," Spike said to the Don. "You give us what we want, we'll give you what you want." He produced an empty glass test tube from inside his duster, a gift from Fred back at the hotel.

            "No, no, no – that won't do. It's too close, too soon. I need all of it."

            "What?" Ron shouted, unable to restrain himself. "What d'you mean all of it?"

            "The boy. I'll drain the boy, then you'll get what you want."

            "Not in this lifetime," Angel said.

            "You're bloody dreaming," Sirius said. His wand rose.

            "That's not wise, Black. Not wise at all. My men aren't the lax guards of Azkaban, and I can't promise how slow their trigger fingers will be."

            "Tell me what I want to know an' you can have him," Spike said, not batting an eye.

            "What?" Sirius turned on Spike, who laid him out with one punch. The chip sent a wave of pain through his head, but Spike disregarded it with a grimace.

            "Hey!" Harry shouted.

            "No time for dog boy." Spike grabbed Harry's arm roughly, pinning his wand to his side and with his free hand shoving Ron away. Genuine fear appeared on both boys' faces. This wasn't in the plan.

            "Spike," Angel growled, his game face emerging.

            "Sod Voldemort, Peaches. This is about savin' Buffy. I'm not lettin' her die again. Are you?"

            Angel stared at him for a long second. Ron took the opportunity to turn his wand on Spike. Angel reached out and grabbed Ron, trapping his wand arm like Spike had Harry's.

            "Excellent, excellent," the Don said, nearly clapping his hands together with the joy of it. "Bring him here."

            "Not 'til you tell me what I want to know. We're takin' an awful risk for you here an' you bloody well know it. This means we're gonna have to deal with Dumbledore. Talk."

            The Don seemed to consider that for a moment. Then he nodded.

            "Yes, very well. Perhaps we can work out an arrangement for that? I can offer excellent assistance, for the right price, of course."

            Spike shrugged. "Don't much care for that right now. Talk."

            The Don nodded. "Do you know of the Deeper Well?"

            "I do," Angel said, still gripping a struggling Ron tightly. "The essences of dead Old Ones are housed there," he told Spike.

            "Yes. The key to your victory, William, lies with the Old One known as Eckayon. Only through Eckayon can you find what you seek."

            "How?" Spike asked.

            The Don shrugged. "No idea. Cass spelled it out for us, and I dutifully found out what it meant. I do not renege on my bargains, nor do I shortchange my business partners, but that is the extent of my obligation. I told you I would direct you to your answer, nothing more, nothing less. Now, I have completed my part of the bargain. It is your turn."

            Spike smiled, dragging Harry towards the dais. "You'll get what's comin' to ya." He looked at Angel. "Now?"

            "Now."

            From the ground, Sirius pointed his wand straight up into the air. "Electro," he called out. A bolt of lightning leapt from his wand, rocketing upwards into the night sky.

            "Very impressive," the Don said when nothing else happened. "Perhaps my guards overwhelmed your double-cross, hmm? You two ... possibly the worst strategists I ever met who thought they were great." He shook his head sadly and gestured to the guards and the sorcerers, all of whom turned inward menacingly. "The wizards can't harm you until you leave the circle, but the guns, I assure you, work just fine."

            The vampires raised their weapons, but before the Don could give the order to fire a score of crossbow bolts sped from the roof of the house. The bolts sailed true, and in an instant, every vampire in the circle except the Don was dust.

            Sirius came to his feet and Spike and Angel released Harry and Ron. Surprise flashed across their faces.

            "What the …" Harry asked. He looked up and saw Remus, Faith, Lorne, Cordelia, Fred, Gunn, and Wesley standing at the edge of the roof. Everyone but Remus had a crossbow in each hand, and Remus' wand was out. He had been magically guiding the bolts, Harry and Ron realized at the same time.

            "Cool," Ron said. Harry nodded.

            "Contingency plan," Spike replied with a grin. He turned back to the Don. "Now, let's play our game. See, we cut a deal, an' it was for a vial o' blood. I'm no welsher. You can have your vial, an' it'll be fresh. But the Boy Who Lived is gonna go on living for a bit longer."

            "I seriously doubt that, vampire," an icy voice said before the Don could react.

            "No!" Harry shouted, whirling around. He knew that voice.

            From inside the house, a barrage of green energy exploded into the courtyard. Every one of the green-robed wizards dropped where they stood. Dead.

            A dozen black-robed Death Eaters stepped out from the house to replace them. The one who had spoken, the one Harry knew was Lucius Malfoy, ostentatiously walked up and rubbed a break in the protective circle.

            "Yes, Potter. And now, finally, I will take care of you for my master and he will elevate me to his exalted side." Malfoy laughed coldly, then turned his hooded face on the Don. "As for you, the Dark Lord knows of your treachery. You shall pay your price, and not swiftly."

            The Don rose from his throne, his features twisting as his vampiric ridges emerged. "I am a businessman. I do not swear allegiance, no matter what your foolish master thinks. William," he said, looking to Spike, "might we perhaps work out an arrangement for my protection?"

            Spike nodded. The group of six spread out slowly as the Death Eaters watched silently.

            "Three vampires," Malfoy said to his assembled compatriots. "No death spells. Kill them with something more … painful." Harry could picture the icy smile forming under the hood as a dozen wands came up.

            Everything seemed to explode into motion at once. The Death Eaters launched a rainbow of spells at the group. Harry, Ron, and Sirius dove for the dirt and came up blasting. One Death Eater fell, stunned by Ron, and two others saw their wands fly off into the house. They scrambled for cover behind the stone façade facing the inner courtyard.

            Spike caught a Cruciatus curse in the left thigh, sending him to the ground with gritted teeth.

            Angel rolled under the fusillade and came up punching. His onslaught rent the Death Eater line in two. A pair of robed wizards pulled back to try and find some room to cast while another pair fell unconscious from his flailing elbows.

            Remus, Faith, Wes and Gunn jumped from the roof. Ron looked up in time to see Remus carefully controlling their descent with his wand. When they landed intact, the four of them leapt into the fray. Faith, her Slayer speed giving her the edge, darted to Spike's side. Lucius was waiting, his wand ready.

            "VERTIGIO!" Malfoy shouted; the orange-tinged burst caught Faith high on the left shoulder. In her head, the world tilted crazily. Up became down and down became up. Her stomach flipped as well, and she felt the urge to throw up.

            The spell threw her sense of direction into chaos, but it couldn't stop her momentum. She plowed into Malfoy at full speed. Their impact with the ground snapped two of his ribs, and he cried out in pain as her fists flailed wildly into his injured torso.

            The Don feinted a move at the wizards, then made directly for the spot where Harry lay on the ground. His fangs glistened as he grabbed the teenage wizard and forced his head to the side.

            "Now I will have my protection," he whispered hungrily.

            Harry swore he could feel Death's icy touch in the Don's pale flesh. The touch paralyzed him, turning his blood cold. The monster above him lowered its jaws, intent on sucking the life from him, and Harry couldn't move. He realized with sickening certainty that he would die, and more, that with him would go any chance of defeating Voldemort. The world would fall unless he moved, and still he couldn't. He tried to raise his wand hand but the Don's leg pinned it beneath them. No spell would make its way out of his frozen mouth. All he could do was wait helplessly as Death devoured him.

            An instant later he was sputtering from a mouthful of dust.

            When he cleared the dirt from his eyes, Ron was kneeling next to him. His right hand clutched his wand like a stake.

            "Alright, Harry?" Ron asked as the dust finished settling over them both. "Told ya you needed me here."

            Harry expelled his held breath in a violent rush. He clasped Ron briefly on the shoulder as they climbed to their feet. The dust fell away and Harry's head cleared. "Always. Now …"

            "Ass-kicking? Sounds like a riot," Ron said, grinning. "Wait, where are they?"

            They looked around. The only people left in the courtyard were Angel's people, their people, and the dusty remnants of the Don.

            "Popped off," Spike said angrily. "Bloody nuisance, that trick is. Any way to track 'em?"

            "No," Remus said, shaking his head. "They can mask their movements from the Ministry."

            "Is everyone unharmed?" Wes asked.

            Everyone answered that they were fine.

            "Scared me near to death, putting me front and center like that," Harry said to Spike, who shrugged.

            "No choice. We thought he might try an' drain you. Couldn't have that, you bein' special and all. Did need ya to look shocked, though, an' with the Don thinkin' I'm all evil and Peaches is all Buffy-whipped, which he is," Spike added in a stage whisper, "it seemed like a good idea not to tell ya. Good work," he said to Ron. "Stakin' a master vampire on your first go's pretty impressive."

            Ron's ears turned pink. He nodded.

            "So did you get the juicy morsels you were looking for?" Faith asked.

            "Yeah. Dead bastard held up his end of the bargain."

"Where to next?"

            "Scotland," Angel said. "The Deeper Well's in Scotland, so that's where we go."

            "We?" Spike and Wes asked at the same time.

            "I'm going with him," Angel declared. "Wes, you're in charge until I get back." He turned to Spike. "It's a bad place. You'll just screw it up by yourself, and it's too important to Buffy to let you fuck around until you decide to come begging for help again."

            "'Fore you start barkin' orders, Angelus, you should use that caveman brow a bit," Spike said. "First we're goin' to Sunnyhell, check in on the Slayer … Buffy," he amended, glancing at Faith. "Then we need research. Whatever this Old One is, s'gonna be big an' dangerous an' it's gonna want something. I wanna know what before I go all fists an' fangs. After that, you wanna come, that's fine, but if you are, could you find some damn hair gel that doesn't smell like the back end of a Chaos Demon?"