Disclaimer: See first chapter
A/N:Thanks for the reviews. This chapter is just building up to some future ones, I hope you enjoy it.
Today is my nineteenth birthday. As I wake up when the sun is setting, I can still hear the streets of Los Angeles. Yes, we are here again. It's my birthplace. My Father owns something here as well. A large sky-scraper. My Mother is busy with preparations for the celebration. Many esteemed guests are supposed to come and 'congratulate' me. I am nineteen, and younger than all of them. But I am the Master's son, and one day shall rule them.
I am done with most of my lessons. While me and my Father will always train, as far as knowledge goes, I have learned well. I can speak 26 dead and demon languages fluently. Italian, Spanish, and French is a given after that. I have grown to maximum height, which is a good 6'7. My Father's height.
Guests have been coming in all day. Some Demons don't need to fear the sun. My Father at the moment is at Wolfram and hart. He went through the sewers today, and has been there since. My Mother is active today. She does not worry for my father. My Father is stronger than both of us combined.
My uncle Spike is antsy. I see him lurking in a nearby corner, watching my mother as she orders the servants around. You see, there's a rumor going about that the slayer is in this town. She lives here. Spike has already killed two, and he desires another one.
She wasn't called after Mother was turned. She was called after the slayer Kendra was killed by Drusilla. At the time, my mother was being 'courted' as they put it delicately, by my Father. There had been a private raid by Drusilla, who hated the Slayer for taking her Angelus, my Father.
Mother had killed Drusilla for Taking Kendra, and Father hadn't done anything. Spike, I heard, just roamed around the world for a while, as it took him some time to get over it, really get over it.
Now he was a loner, and pretty cool, like an older brother in a way. Him and my Father often argue, about stupid things. He is also much like my Father's younger brother, which can be comical when it is my Father getting pissed.
So now Spike is about to go out the door, it looks like. But my Mother sees him. "Spike." She doesn't call out loudly, she just says it, like it was a death sentence. He stops mid-tracks. He turns slowly, and raises a scarred eyebrow at her. I'm watching this all from the stairs.
"What is it, pet?" He says, taking out a cigarette.
No one is in the room, no servants at least. She's different with Spike than she is with anyone else. She raises a flawless eyebrow of her own. "You know Angelus strongly objects when you call me your little names." Understatement of the century. Father had an ulcer every time Spike would call either her, him, or me one of his nicknames. I was peaches jr., boy, runt, and poof's spawn.
"Yeah, and what of it, you gonna tell him?" He dares, looking straight into her eyes. She looks back. He smirks. He begins to turn and walk out the door again.
"So are you just going to walk out on your grand-sire's son's birthday, to kill the slayer that he audibly told EVERYONE to keep their hands off of?" That stopped him. He put his smoke down, and smothered it out with his foot. She looked at the burnt mark on the floor in disgust wonderment.
He turned. "What makes you think that... Slayer?" No one had called her that for years. I remember when I was thirteen, seeing her transition from slayer to vampire was horrible. She couldn't move for weeks, and Father was next her all along, comforting her. Not that anyone else saw. They took time off in penthouse in Japan, away from servants. I was taken along, because I was their son. I was supposed to be sleeping, and such things, but I saw my mother breaking down in the arms of my Father, who was never comforting, or anything other than the head of the line of Aurelius, who ruled his house with an iron fist.
But now Mother shows nothing. She has had years of practice to master an emotionless face. "Spike, leave and I will have someone tail you. I hear one thing about slayers, and will PERSONALLY make sure that Angelus hears FIRST HAND of every...single... thing discussed." They looked at each other for a long while, then Spike turned and left. I had no real idea what had just gone on. All I knew was that Spike was in the dog house... Again.
It was at this moment I decided to rush in. My Mother turned to look at me, her blonde hair tied in a low pony tail. "Connor, Happy birthday." She smiled a smile of genuine happiness, one she rarely showed to the public. She gave me a hug, which I returned. It was a mother's hug to her son, and touching to us both, in a special bond only mother and son shared.
Then we pulled back. "So, are you ready for the party?" She asked skeptically, eyeing me up and down. I was wearing jeans, and a t-shirt.
"Um... where's Spike?" I looked around, trying to change topics. She sighed, and muttered something only my super hearing could identify as 'stupid super hearing'. I grinned.
She gave in. "He just went out, see if you can convince him to come back. And hurry." She called, as I was already rushing out the door.
It's near summer time, the nights are comfortable, though. I sniff his scent, and immediately start tracing it. I have the advanced abilities of a vampire, just not immortal. Or need blood.
I run as I catch a hold of his scent, stronger and stronger. I stop at a sign. 'UCLA' it reads. And under is, it says 'campus grounds'. I smell him here. I really hope I don't walk in on Spike while he's in the middle of an orgasm or something.
No, I see him at the local campus club, drinking a beer and watching the dancers. I sit down next to him comfortably. To order him to come home would never work.
"Hey, Spike." I say, leaning back into the chair.
He doesn't look at me. He shows no sign that he knows I am here, but out of no where, he responds with "Hey."
My eyes trace Spike's line of sight, and I see a pretty hot brunette dancing in the crowd to the beat. She's small, but lean, and she dances while men gather to her like a moth. I immediately recognizes her as the slayer. And I realizes how much of an effort it is for Spike to just sit here.
"Slayer." I whisper. He doesn't move, doesn't react. I sit back and make a random comment. "She's hot." He snorted.
"Hot, in more ways than one. Alive, active and aloof. She never gets close to any, you can tell by her dancing. Slayers must always remain aloof, can't have families, friends, or sweethearts. It's what's supposed to make them so strong."
He watcher her, memorizing her every movement, and saying nothing. Then he speaks again. "I know you came here to get me for your little party. I'll tell you what, I'll make it easy. You get me a bowl of onion rings, and when I am done eating them, we'll leave. Do we have a deal?" Spike grinned at me, as I went to go get the order. The sooner we were out, the less mad my mother would be.
At the counter, I tell the man onion rings, and he tells me to wait. Not the service I'm used to, really, but I shrug. Not everyone knows me, I suppose.
As I'm waiting, I look around. People are dancing, talking, little groups huddled around tables. Except for one table I spot. A brunette with curly hair, wearing a red shirt and jeans is at a table, staring at her coke. She's slim, maybe seventeen years old, when she looks up briefly, I see her large doe-like eyes.
Our gazes lock. She's actually very beautiful in a way. Her face is still young, and not fully developed, but she has some womanly features, though her body seems to still be stuck in teenage years. Her lips are full, round, and glossed. Her eyes are painted with some sort of eye shadow, which is dark in variety. She looks hot in jeans, but I get the feeling like she should be wearing a dress.
I walked over to her, confident in my looks, and I knew I was thought to be very appealing. She looked up curiously at me. I smiled. "Hey." She smiled back.
"Hi." She said quickly. Then she eyed me suspiciously. "Who are you?"
"My name's Connor." I offered his hand, which she took. She was confused when I didn't shake it, but leaned over and kissed the back of her hand. It was how I was raised to treat women. She blushed. Then she sobered. "Do you have a pulse?" I gave her a look. What a strange question. But I raised her hand to my neck, and she felt the pulse beating there. She giggled. "Sorry, just a stupid thing, that I got from my sister, because I guess it's a joke with here or something, not that I always listen to her anyway, and I'm babbling right now, and I'm going to stop, I'm Dawn." She smiled apologetically.
Dawn. What a perfect name. It matched her face, which seemed to light up, like the sun. I almost missed the sun, looking at her. She seemed so alive. "So, do you go to school here?" She asked, waking me out of my thoughts.
"Oh, uh, homeschooled." She made a face.
"That must suck. If I had to stay at home, I might kill myself. How do you live?"
"Oh, well, I don't really mind my Family that much. They're actually very interesting. But they hire a tutor for me for most of my subjects."
"Oh." Dawn looked down. I could feel her embarrassment, from feeling her burning cheeks. I knew what she thought:rich boy. "So... uh, I don't see you around here a lot."
"Yeah, well, my parents don't really let me go out a lot." She looked at me in amazement.
"What, why not?"
"Well, they don't think it's really safe."
"Oh. Yeah, my sister tells me that a lot to. But I mean, she was partying all the time when she was my age, and she was fine."
I laughed. She seemed so young, innocent. Perfect little ignorant thing. A bubbly teenager. What could I ever do with her.
Suddenly, someone came to the table. A blonde girl wearing a tight cut-off top and leather pants. "Oh, Dawn, you're here." She said in a mocking way. "So your sister let her itty bitty baby sister come to the club?"
"Yeah, Claire, okay." Dawn rolled her eyes. Clair seemed to be pissed at her lack of reaction.
"So, is this your boyfriend?" Claire asked, making her way up to me, as I looked on emotionless. I watched in extreme shock as the bright bubbly Dawn seemed to turn as cold as Mother in Antarctica when talking to Drusilla.
Dawn eyed her. "Claire, I think I see one of your boyfriends in the process of mating another girl. You wouldn't want another STD to add to your collection, would you?"
"Shut it, Mary."
"Name's Dawn, but you can add a Magdalene to that Mary if your one to talk." With no comeback, Claire glared at her, and walked off. I eyed the girl with new respect. The little kitten had claws. She wasn't as defenseless and helpless as I thought.
"Sorry about that." Dawn said, smiling apologetically.
"It's not your fault girls like that walk around. Complete cowards who pick on those they believe they are inferior to. It's disgusting." Dawn smiled at me one of the brightest smiles I'd seen since I'd talked with her. Another song began to play, a slow one, and I was about to ask her to dance. But then,
"Onion rings! Order up!" I silently cursed to myself. But I gave Dawn a charming smile. "Now that I know what this is like, I'll try to come here more often. Who knows, I might even see you again."
"You have to go?" She asked, face falling.
"Yeah, but we should do this again."
Dawn nodded, but then seemed to remember something, and just said "Yeah, that would be cool."
"Bye." I waved to her, and grabbed the onion rings. As I watched Spike devour them, I promised myself I would see her again.
As me and Spike stepped back into the building, we saw that Mother was now in her gown, which was a light Egyptian cotton like dress, fashioned like some sort of toga, only in was sleeveless. She wore today a gold arm band with the house seal on it, and a long fine gold chain that faded into the shadow of her breast. Her hair cascaded down on soft curls. She stood at the doorway. Everything seemed ready.
"Good, you're here, go get dressed, Connor. The clothes have been laid out for you." She says to me, but keeps Spike. I know she's going to yell at him, or something such as that. In my room, I find a cream colored satin long sleeved button down shirt, the black pants, the belt. I put them all on, including the expensive shoes, and then I comb my hair to perfect place. I'm waiting for the servant to come in or knock so I could follow him down the stairs, and he'll announce me, the usual.
But I am surprised to see the door open without a knock swiftly, and close just as quick, and am even more surprised to find my Father standing there, calm, controlled, and serious. He nods to me. I bow, as I am supposed to. When I look up, I can see he is pleased.
He goes to one of the chairs I have in the other room. My bedroom is two rooms, really. An actual bedroom, and a living room. I sit across from him. He looks at me strangely.
"Tonight, you are to be nineteen. You are still young, and you are not to be turned yet." I already know this. Not until I complete the prophesy. I am sure of it. "But you are still turning into a man. And you are my son. You still belong to this line, and that will not change. You are my heir, and you are... a good son. I wanted to give you this before we go out there." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet box. He hands it to me.
When I open it, I see a ring. A silver ring emblazoned with the family crest, and my initial on the side. C.A. Connor, and the A could either stand of Aurelius, or Angelus, but I believe it means the latter.
I put it on my left hand ring finger, like he does. For a moment, it looks like he might actually break into a genuine smile, but the moment passes, and we stand, business like again.
"Your Mother also wished to give this to you, but she's downstairs, as you will be very soon. Don't loose that, by the way, or I'll make sure you get a good beating. Understood?" I nodded, hiding my smile. He clear his throat, and he puts out his hand. I take it. We both have equally strong grips, though perhaps his in a bit more powerful than mine.
He disappears down the steps again, and soon the little servant is here to guide me down, and introduce me to all the highly esteemed guests.
But as I smile, and shake hands with the wealthy and powerful demons, I cannot help but think of that girl Dawn. And when I would be able to meet her again. How could I meet her again? And something else. I want her to dance with me, but I want more than that. I want her. Only her. I want her smiles to be only for me, those boys who watched her as I talked to her to be punished and have their eyes burned out. In my mind, I covet her every curve, look, smile. Is it possible to become so obsessed with a single encounter?
My Mother and Father watch me from across the room, content on their thrones of power, as they watch me dance around the business men, and such, who ask general questions about me, and they watch me handle everything diplomatically. How could they ever know that my mind was at the club right now?