Title: Fury of the Beast

Disclaimer: Buffy is owned my Mutant Enemy, and everything World of Darkness belongs to White Wolf. I will admit the name Ifrit does not belong to me, it belongs to mythology and whomever decides to use it, but the concept of the Hell that Ifrit is in, their power structure and workings do belong to me. So if you wanna use it, ask me!

Xander crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. "Hello Buffy. Out for a stroll tonight?"

Beth smirked. "I left that name behind a long time ago, Xander." She looked him over with appraising eyes. "Looking good, Xander. Your last set of clothes was on the verge of making everybody go into shock."

He snorted, feeling the eyes of Vanessa and Sandra on his back. "Did you drop by just to give me a fashion critique? Or are you just reliving high school and loitering?"

Beth chuckled. "Such hostility....and so hypocritical, too. You should join me and Spike, Xander. We're the winning team. There's no point in hanging around with the humans. They're weak, pathetic."

Xander's face darkened. "Yeah? Then here, catch." He quickly tossed the cross Sandra had used on him earlier to Beth, and reflexively she caught it.

Her hand began smoking immediately, and she dropped it. Her pretty face then immediately turned into its demonic visage, with one exception. Her eyes were red, not the typical vampire yellow. She snarled. "Not smart, Xander."

She moved forward to strike him, but Xander just stepped back a foot and Buffy's hand impacted on the invisible barrier that prevented her entry, as a demon.

Sandra came to Xander's side, holding up a large cross. "You are not welcome here, demon. Begone in the name of God!"

Vanessa looked weary, but prepared, holding her stakes in a combat stance.

Beth growled, stepping back. "Fine. Be that way. You'll be one of us soon enough, whether you want to be or not, Xander!"

She turned and ran off, jumping down into an open sewer access, which she closed behind her.

Xander sighed and shut the door. "Fat chance, Buff. Fat chance."

Sandra tapped him on the shoulder.

Xander turned, only to meet Sandra's fist. Xander staggered to the side, falling to the floor of the flat, even as Vanessa shouted. "Sandra, what are you doing?!"

Sandra calmly replied. "He must be a demon of some sort, if he knew Buffy Summers while she was alive."

Xander groaned from the floor. "Hey hey, I'm a nice guy."

Sandra grabbed a stake from her coat and raised it over Xander's chest, only to have her hand intercepted by another, far stronger one. "Vanessa, what are you doing?" She exclaimed.

Vanessa stared her Watcher down. "Saving the life of someone, who saved mine twice. I don't know what he is, but I know who he is. If he wanted to hurt us, he'd have already done so."

Sandra looked at Vanessa incredulously. "He's a creature of darkness, he will only betray us, it's his nature, he must not be allowed to roam free and hurt people!"

Xander spoke up from the floor lightly. "Hello, I'm right here. I just wanted to get rid of Spike and then go off and try and live and let live, ya know?" He slowly and warily climbed to his feet, the Watcher and the Slayer still in deadlock.

He turned to Sandra. "All right, I admit it, I'm not human, haven't been for a while. But, I still have my soul, I'm still who I was before I was changed, against my will I might add, and I hate being lumped into the same category as a certain bleached blond murderer who got his jollies off by nailing railway spikes into people's heads!"

He closed his eyes and took a breath. When he opened them again, Sandra looked a little apprehensive. He sighed. "Let her go, Vanessa."

Vanessa raised an eyebrow, but let her Watcher go. Sandra rubbed her wrist.

Xander crossed his arms. "All right, now that the cat is out of the sack, you two have a choice. You can either accept my help and whatever I can do, or sit back, watch, and hope I dust Spike on my own, but there's no way in hell you could deal with Buffy or the Devil Knight Nicholas. You gals are sitting on top of the Hellmouth, and if you think for one second you can handle everything that it throws at you you've got another thing coming."

Vanessa nodded. "I'd have to agree with that, Sandra. I was defeated with one punch. I'm really not happy about it, but I would be very dead right now if Xander didn't put himself between me and the Knight, even though he could have taken off."

Sandra grimaced. "I suppose you'll claim you follow goodness and light and have pets and teddy bears, hm?" She looked very skeptical.

Xander chuckled. "No, I won't claim that I have pets or teddy bears, and there are times I've just wandered and existed. I also know there's no way I know of to become human again, but there's still no way I'm just going to let myself become a total monster. I'm a guy with a monster inside, not the other way around, you know. I thought I proved that by handling that cross."

Vanessa spoke up. "He's telling the truth, if he weren't I'd have killed him already. As much as I hate to admit it, we do need help, Sandra. We can't afford to turn away allies just because they're unconventional."

Sandra turned to Vanessa. "Don't you lecture me, young lady! I am your Watcher and you will take orders from me. You are the Slayer, you are our soldier and-"

"Oh for crying out loud! Listen to yourself, Sandra!" Xander exclaimed. "The Slayer isn't just a foot soldier, she's a young girl! Would you mind telling me how many Slayers your Council went through in the last sixty years?"

Sandra clenched her hands. "How dare you judge us! We're fighting a war! You talk about things you don't comprehend!"

Vanessa said quietly. "Fifty-seven."

Sandra turned and snapped at her. "Quiet you! I will not tolerate insubordination in my own home!" She turned to Xander. "And you! What have you done to her?! Some sort of mind control?"

Xander rolled his eyes. "Oh my, yes. It must be mind control by an evil force if the Slayer has an independent thought." He said sarcastically. His tone turning serious now, he focused on Sandra. "Open up that highly educated brain of yours and think, Sandra. Can you recall the longest living Slayer recorded history, Sandra?"

She pursed her lips, obviously deciding to humor him. "Amanda Ryan. She survived for seven years under Wesley Wyndham-Price, due to his unusual habit of joining her in the fights. He had to sacrifice a great deal in order to take care of a Slayer, but because of his skills the Council allowed him reentry."

Xander nodded. It sounded like Wesley had matured even more after working with Angel, and he'd done well. "And what about the Slayer Buffy Summers, huh? Or has your Council's revisionist history policy erased her completely from the books?"

Sandra shrugged. "She survived a little over a year before being sired by The Master, and quickly became a menace. She's survived by allying with William the Bloody and she is quite capable of many atrocities."

Xander snorted. "Yeah, and I can't do the Snoopy Dance like a pro." He turned to Vanessa. "What do you think, Vanessa, you just saw Buffy. Did she look like a sixteen-year old?"

Vanessa just shook her head.

Sandra raised an eyebrow. "That's what is recorded in the Rupert Giles' Watcher Diary, recovered after his death."

Vanessa spoke up. "It never said anything like that. I read it in the computer."

Sandra sighed. "We have to keep general knowledge of a turned Slayer out of awareness. Slayers fight better when they don't know the odds against their enemy."

Xander shrugged. "Then that diary is a complete lie. When I...left, Buffy, she'd been a Slayer for three years already. But, say I accept your premise that Slayers shouldn't know too much. Well then, how do you explain the dead fifty-seven Slayers? I know you people in the Council have the best of intentions, but that's worth very little when they've racked up a body count worthy of serial killers by sticking to traditions that reduce effectiveness."

Sandra crossed her arms. "What do you propose? That the Slayer starts using modern weaponry? There is an agreement between the forces of light and darkness, if one side uses modern weapons the other will too on a regular basis. Imagine the death toll if every vampire was allowed to use guns on the Slayer. There'd be no stopping them."

Xander nodded. "And I agree, with that part in particular. But consider that a Watcher's duty is to guide and train and teach the Slayer. What kind of job do you think they've done if you go through a Slayer a year? Consider on a purely human perspective, Sandra. What kind of person is someone who has nothing to live for?"

Sandra sighed, lowering her head slightly. "I..I think I see your point. A person with nothing to live for becomes suicidal. But getting emotionally involved..."

Xander picked up. "Is painful when the Slayer does get killed. Yes, it's inevitable, but still. The Slayers are human, not machines, and humans need connections to stay human. If they don't have those connections they end up dying, because they have nothing to fight for except yet another battle." Xander's eyes were pained as he spoke, remembering Kendra.

Vanessa looked hesitantly between the Watcher and the vampire. "So...are you going to kill each other or can we hold off on that? Cause I'm pretty sure Xander needs to get home."

Sandra sighed, and nodded. "I don't like it, but I will call a truce with you, for now. And I must say, if you harm one hair on Vanessa's head, I will make sure you burn in hell, understood?"

Xander nodded. "Check check, don't touch Vanessa." He checked his watch. "Oh yeah, now I really gotta go. We'll talk more tomorrow evening."

Xander walked out the front door and fled quickly into the sewer access Beth had used earlier. He started walking home underground, musing over the events of the last few days.

'Just my luck, I get so damned close to getting Spike and all I end up doing is finding out about Buffy. Wonder what she's planning, and how she means to recruit me. She's got to know I'm not going to just jump to her side now that she's switched. Unless she just thinks I'll hop over with a nice look. Ugh, all I'll have to do is remember the demon's face and then I'll never switch. It's not her on that end. Still, I have to find something to neutralize her. Still...she's overconfident, she always has been, and that gives me a chance.'

He came up out of the sewer access to his apartment building and made his way into his apartment.

Allandra was standing there, cleaning her rapier. She nodded and smiled to Xander. "I'm glad you're back, Xander. I had some company after you left. I hope you know what it was, because I haven't got any idea."

Xander raised an eyebrow. "Company, huh? Better show me, we're dealing with a lot of problems these days."

Allandra nodded and led him into the kitchen, where a dead creature lay on the tiles, what passed for its throat cut open. Towels were wrapped around the wound, probably to prevent the blood from running out and getting to a carpet. It was the color of human flesh, and had a humanoid shape, but it resembled little more than a fleshy, flightless, deformed bird. There was a faint smell of rotting flesh coming from it, most strongly from the mouth, which gave a hint as to its diet.

Allandra spoke. "Have you ever seen anything like this before, Xander? I know I haven't, not here or back...back on the other world."

Xander shook his head. "Well, I've seen a lot of things, but not this one before. Huh, what do you know. It kinda looks like a puppet from a bad horror movie." He tilted his head, looking at it from another angle. "Well, it stinks. We need to get rid of it for sure."

Allandra nodded. "I'll get a garbage bag." She stopped and looked at it again. "You think it'll fit? I mean it's not that big, but it might be too big for one."

Xander shrugged. "We'll double bag it then. Anyway, let's get rid of it right quick, looking at it is kinda creeping me out."

Allandra chuckled. "And here I thought you weren't afraid of anything. So, Alexander Harris, what is it you're most afraid of, hm?"

Xander shrugged. "Two things, actually." He sighed. "The first is to be completely helpless. I really, really hate seeing someone I care about in trouble and not being able to do anything about it."

Allandra nodded. "And the second?"

Xander let a small smile tug at his lips. "Clowns, they scare the hell outta me."

Nicholas walked completely on automatic. He had no idea where he was going, or why, he only knew he had to be somewhere soon. It was important, only slightly less important than the end of the world.

He walked into the highschool, watching the young students run to class. 'Stupid foolish little mortals. They have no idea they will live, grow old and die without accomplishing anything of value. They'll just grow and consume and cause damage. What useless insects.'

He made his way down into the school basement. Like most basements, it was dank, dark, spooky, and smelled just a little bit like mildew.

It was also the very spot where the barriers between the Hell dimension where Ifrit resided, and this world. Nicholas could only think it ironic. Every single high school student on the face of the earth thought their school was hell. These ones were right.

He looked around, moving toward the very spot the barrier would be weakest. Evidently, Ifrit wanted him there for something. He strode forward confidently, and then stopped when every sense he had told him everything was right.

A small flame appeared in front of Nicholas, no larger than the flame on a candle. It hovered there, floating serenely and defying every physical law that said it should not exist.

Nicholas kneeled before the flame. "Master. I have come at your summons. What do you desire of me?" He spoke in the guttural, hideous language of devilkind.

The flame grew larger, forming itself into a face made out of flames. "I require one more service of you, Nicholas. You have served me well and thus I will reward you as I promised so six decades ago."

Nicholas raised his head to look on the face of his master. "Anything, my lord. I am your Knight and thus yours to command. Do you need the woman killed? Or perhaps capturing and extracting the Slayer's soul?"

Ifrit's face smirked. "No, my Knight. I will take care of my affairs personally from this point forward."

Nicholas' eyes widened. "My lord? You are coming here?"

Ifrit laughed. "Oh yes, I am. Thanks to you, my servant, I have found this world pleasing to me. Thus I will....as you say..move in. I think I'll enjoy it."

Nicholas smiled slightly. "I'd be happy to show you around, my lord. There are many pleasing places here."

Ifrit simply looked smug. "I appreciate the offer, my servant. Alas, that will not be possible."

Flames encircled Nicholas, far, far hotter than Nicholas had ever felt before. The flames enclosed him, causing searing, horrible, agonizing pain to flow through his system. He screamed while Ifrit laughed at his servant's pain.

Faint echoes of screams began to resonate through the basement. Nobody could hear those screams except for Nicholas. They were the screams of hundreds of millions of people suffering unimaginable torment. Eternal torment. It was the most terrifying thing Nicholas had ever heard in his long life.

A swirling vortex opened up under Nicholas' feet. Tendrils of ice extended from the portal and grabbed Nicholas. Desperately, he grabbed with his fingertips on the edge of the portal. The pain from the ice hurt almost as much as the pain of the flames. The pull increased, causing Nicholas to scream out once again.

Ifrit's face looked quite amused as Nicholas tried everything possible to prevent himself from tumbling down into the portal. Nicholas triggered his Knight form, straining with his now enhanced strength and flapping his wings desperately, trying to evade the torment that resonated so completely in his mind.

A sudden gust of flame smacked Nicholas in the face, causing him to scream once more and instinctively grab his face. As Nicholas tumbled down the vortex, the tendrils of ice released him allowing what passed for gravity to complete Nicholas' descent into Hell. Intense, agonizing pain began to spread throughout his demonic form.

Eventually, he landed on a hard, rocky surface, the pain beginning to fade. He shook his horned head, and stood up, stretching his body. He looked around.

Desolation as far as his eyes could see, in every direction. Up above was nothing but darkness, broiling clouds swirled and eddied. Once in a while, flashes of lighting arced here and there throughout the clouds, illuminating the wasteland in intense, bright flashes which all too quickly died off again, leaving him disoriented.

The being that was once Nicholas, a hunter of such skill and repute he gained the nickname 'The Immortal' was now trapped, without even the slightest vestige of humanity remaining. It suited him, however.

He could hear in the distance, howls belonging to beasts that he had never seen or heard of, or even imagined. The howls were coming closer and closer. Nicholas couldn't help but smile.

Perhaps Hell would not be so bad, if he could hunt here. He would prove to any and all creatures that crossed his path why he had earned his name.

Back in Sunnydale High, the portal that had taken Nicholas closed the moment the fallen hunter had lost his grip. The flames that made up Ifrit's face vanished. Even the screams had disappeared.

Up above, dark clouds began to form, quickly and unnaturally coalescing into a thunderstorm. Rain began to fall in sheets, drenching every unfortunate resident to Sunnydale that was enjoying the previously sunny day. Wind began ripping through the streets, breaking windows that could not withstand the sudden change in pressure.

In the basement of Sunnydale High, something new was beginning. Flames broiled up in a pillar extending from floor to ceiling, and yet they consumed nothing, scorched nothing. The pillar began rotating, and began to contract. Faster and faster the flames whirled, becoming a tornado of fire, and with every rotation the flames swirled tighter and tighter together.

As suddenly as they appeared, the flames altogether ceased. A nude figure crouched on the floor, the very spot Nicholas had been dropped into the portal to Hell. He slowly rose to his feet. To all appearances, he looked to be a red-haired man of medium size, yet impressively muscled. He stretched, testing every new muscle and sensation.

He looked down at himself, examining his arms and legs, their shape and color. After nodding once, a flame burst out from his chest and spread to every point of his body except his face. A moment later, the flames faded and he was clothed in jeans, sneakers, and a red shirt. Brushing himself off, he began walking.

As he walked to the front of the school, looking up at the now dying unnatural thunderstorm, as the sun shyly appeared to his eyes for the first time, Ifrit, former ruler of the Fire Plains of Keth, Third Devil Lord of Hell, began laughing.

After Xander and Allandra had disposed of the body by tossing it into the garbage chute, the pair went back to the apartment. Xander went to the fridge and opened up one of the bags, pouring the contents into one of his coffee mugs.

He took a sip, fangs extended with his hunger, and then he spat it back out into the cup. He quickly began coughing and spitting. "Oh god, what the hell?!" He exclaimed.

Allandra ran into the kitchen. "What, what is it Xander?"

"Ugh, I'm not sure. The blood's just...wrong, somehow. I don't know how to describe it." Xander hesitantly sniffed the pouch, then he poured the contents down the kitchen sink, turning on the water. He then turned back to the fridge and, one by one, checked every pouch. All of them were in the same condition. After dumping all the bags, Xander swore and began pacing.

Allandra looked very concerned. "Xander, what, what's the problem?"

Xander's voice began rising. "Problem? Oh, no problem. None at all. Just that I'm almost hungry enough to open one of my veins is all. If I don't get some blood in me, I'll go nuts before sunset. And considering the time right now I can't go-"

At that moment, a loud crash of thunder resonated throughout the apartment.

"-out. What the hell, they didn't call for a storm today?" The sound of rain picked up outside, slamming against the darkened windows with a vengeance. Another crash of thunder made both Xander and Allandra jump.

Allandra looked out the window. "There isn't any way that's natural. It arrived too quickly and it's too strong. I wonder what's causing it?"

Xander shrugged. "Who knows, or cares, we can't check it out now. Let's get into the den, that wind is picking up and if the windows break we could get hurt."

Allandra nodded. The pair quickly moved into the more shielded den, Xander lay down on a couch while Allandra sat down on a chair. Allandra looked over to Xander, who was obviously trying to keep his hunger under control.

"Xander, you need blood." Allandra spoke, her face very concerned.

He nodded. "Yeah, I do. Every instinct in me is telling me to feed, I really, really need to feed."

Allandra sighed, and then hesitantly offered her wrist to him. He stared at her. "Are..are you sure, Allandra? I mean, I've fed from people before, but I don't want to hurt you."

She bit her lip and spoke. "You need it. I can give it. I only ask that you be careful, I'm a little more fragile than I look."

Xander took deep breaths, closing his eyes for a moment and then he nodded. As gently as he possibly could, he sank his teeth into Allandra's wrist. His teeth punctured the vein painlessly, and carefully Xander began to drink.

Allandra swooned, her breathing coming more rapidly now. Her mind was filled with pleasure as the delirium of Xander's nature flowed through her mind. It was nearly the most erotic thing she'd ever experienced in her life.

Xander was nearly overcome himself. Her blood was sweet and spicy and strong. It was the first taste of elven blood he'd ever had, and it was the most delicious thing he'd tasted in his entire life. For a moment, he felt alive, her blood flowed into his system and everything became sharper and clearer. With a supreme effort of will, he opened his eyes and looked to Allandra.

Her face was beginning to grow pale, her eyes were shut and her breathing was labored. Her eyes were fluttering and she let out a groan. Quickly, Xander let her wrist go and licked the wound. He watched, his heart in his throat as the wound slowly closed before his eyes. Far more slowly than it should have. Eventually, though, the wound sealed.

Xander quickly picked Allandra up in his arms, and set her on the couch where he'd been lying a moment before. He got up and went to the kitchen, grabbing a carton of orange juice from the fridge, grabbing a clean glass in the process.

Moving back to the den he filled the glass and wordlessly handed it to Allandra, who gave him a nod of thanks. She drained the glass in record time. He took the glass from her, concern in his eyes as she put the glass on the floor.

As gently as he possibly could, he joined her on the couch, wrapping his arms around her, trying to comfort her with his presence. She was breathing shallowly, but strongly, and he could feel her heart beating strong despite the loss of blood.

He'd taken just enough to take the edge off his thirst, just enough to keep him in control until nightfall, when he could go and get more blood. He leaned forward and whispered into her ear. "Thanks, Allandra. I owe you."

She just turned and smiled at him slightly. "You're feeling better?"

He nodded.

She slowly turned around and hugged him.

Both of them drifted off to sleep, entangled in each other's arms.

Beth listened to her scout's report, with Spike standing at her side.

"He didn't drink the blood, mistress. He knew something was wrong with it, and he poured it down the drain." The human spoke, kneeling on the cold concrete floor.

Beth grumbled. Spike just patted her arm. "Now now pet, it was a good idea, but apparently he was smart enough. That or he just knew the difference between your blood and the normal crap the wanker drinks."

Beth pouted. "But Spikey, I wanted him working with us. I know he can be great if only he'd come around."

Spike shrugged. "Yeah, it's too bad. Still, I'd never trust droopy. He's still got too much of that hero complex going on. It's downright embarrassing for a vampire to have it you know."

The pair of vampires kissed, almost oblivious to the human kneeling on the floor. He cleared his throat, slowly bringing their attention back to him. Beth sneered. "What is it, worm?"

The poor guy recoiled. "I'm sorry mistress, but it seems earlier last night he and the Slayer caused a lot of damage to The Haven, before you visited him. He killed the club's owner and his bodyguard."

Spike snarled. "Bollocks, he killed our link to the organization. Hm, well....actually, that's not so bad.."

Beth rose an eyebrow. "How is that not bad? We only lost our main link to the Sabbat, leaving us with a few thralls and fledglings to mess with, Spike. Not only that, with The Haven out of commission we'll have to go back to our old methods of finding fledges, minions, thralls and blood."

Spike smirked. "You're not looking at the big picture, pet. With Mike dead, they'll have to send someone else in to run Sunnyhell, someone just a wee bit tougher than dear old Mike. Somebody who knows how to get the job done."

Beth followed the line of reasoning, and began smiling right along with Spike. She turned to the human, still kneeling on the floor. She patted him on the head like a pet. "Good boy. Now take your treat." She slit her wrist and without hesitation, her ghoul began to drink.

Spike pulled out a cigarette and lit it, smoking with a smirk on his face as Beth pulled the chains of slavery tighter around her ghoul. "I kind of wish I could do that, pet. We could move twice as quickly if I had that talent."

Beth wrenched her wrist away from her servant and she shrugged. "It's a talent, Spikey. Just like everything else I've got." She looked at her ghoul. "Now, puppy, would you please bring in your last capture?"

The ghoul smiled, eager to please his mistress, got up off the floor and walked into the next room. A moment later he dragged out an elderly woman. She was shrieking. "The angel will get you! Monsters! Beasts! He will come and stop you! All of you!"

Beth crossed her arms. "Angel, hm? Something tells me he's not coming to help you today, ma'am." She tilted her head. "What is your name, hm?"

The woman yelled again, this time at Beth. "He stopped the monsters like you before, he will again! He's always been fighting you and he always will! He protects everyone pure! He'll destroy you all!"

Spike rolled his eyes. Turning to the ghoul, said as if he was extremely bored. "Show me her driver's license, would you?"

The ghoul reached into his pocket and wordlessly handed Spike the senior's wallet. Spike opened it casually, taking a drag as he did so. "Hm. Well, Maria Johnson. Age seventy-four. Good to meet you." Spike looked at Beth. "So what are you going to do with this one, love? The usual?"

Maria spat at Spike, missing him as the projectile hit the floor. "A curse on you, demon!"

Spike sighed and looked at the ghoul. "Shut her up, will you?"

The ghoul grabbed a roll of duct tape and sealed Maria's mouth shut with a strip.

Spike looked at Beth again. "Now, where was I? Oh yeah, so the usual, pet?"

Beth smiled. "Of course the usual. She's got no other use now, does she? Unless you can think of something Spikey?"

Spike shook his head with a smirk. "No, not at all pet. Let's have fun with her."

Beth grabbed her captive and dragged her into a manhole. Leading her down, down, deep underground. Spike followed behind, whistling a jaunty tune and smoking.

Sounds echoed throughout the caves. The air smelled foul, it was dank, dark down there. It sounded like somewhere, perhaps far below or above or perhaps even all around, a massive heart was beating.

A moment later, the woman realized why. They entered a realm of nightmares.

The walls turned from walls of stone and granite to walls of skin and flesh and bone. Here and there, she could see the shapes of people what had been merged together, crafted together into horrid pillars and into the walls. Even the floors in places were made of living, breathing human flesh. The entire mass slowly writhed and churned as they walked by, as if the countless souls that were killed, and bound, to this place, knew their tormenters were passing by.

Stopping at a section of the wall that had been ripped and torn, bleeding on the floor with foul-smelling blood, Spike casually ripped all of the woman's clothes off, causing her to redouble her efforts at screaming, muffled by the tape covering her mouth.

Beth ripped the tape off her face, causing her to scream out loudly again. Beth just smiled. "I love hearing them scream when I do this. It makes everything so much more pleasant to do."

Spike grinned and shoved the elderly woman into the ripped section of the wall, still smoking his cigarette. Beth smiled and reached out for Maria's flesh.

Pain filled Maria's world as her flesh separated, flowing and squishing like clay. She could feel her back merging with the wall. She screamed in incomprehensible agony. Her flesh was merging with the flesh of the living wall, and yet she did not die even when the agony exceeded anything she'd ever felt before. Her voice became sore as the screaming continued unabated.

Eventually the pain slowly eased off, and the two vampires stood back, admiring Beth's handiwork. Maria rose her head, trying to move, but the only thing she could move was her head. The rest of her body had been grafted, flesh and bone and organs alike, into the horrid mass of living flesh.

Maria began sobbing, realizing her fate would go on, she'd continue existing like this until she went insane or circumstances would kill her.

Spike laughed. "Now that was a bit of jolly good fun, pet. I swear you get better at it every time you mess with people like this."

Beth smiled and leaned over, kissing Spike on the cheek. "Thanks Spikey. I'd never have tried new things in this without your help you know."

Maria just gaped at the pair, tears running down her face.

The pair of vampires walked away, leaving Maria to her hellish existence. Leaving her to go over every memory she had in her long life. Including the day, a little over sixty years ago, her angel came down and saved her from the monsters of the night.

She prayed to God, reciting the Bible in her mind, praying with all of her heart for her angel to come and save her again. Seeing his face in her mind. She'd have given anything to know his name then. She didn't pray now for rescue, but for death, for release.

Never knowing that she was praying for Xander Harris.

Once Xander woke up the next night, he left Allandra sleeping on the couch where she was looking much improved. He went to a closet and got a soft blanket, and wrapped her in it gently.

He went out to resupply his stash of blood, and surprisingly enough returned without incident. Stocking It all in the fridge, he took Allandra's suggestion to store some in wine bottles. He went over to his phone and picked it up, calling Angel.

"Angel Investigations, we help the helpless." That familiar, cheery voice came over the phone.

"It's Xander. Can I speak with Angel?"

"One moment please."

Xander sighed as he was treated to elevator music again. He looked over at the sleeping Allandra.

"This is Angel. Is something wrong, Xander?"

"Yeah, I think somebody's trying to poison me or something. I found all of my blood was tainted this morning. It smelled like somebody had put something sour in it or something, it's the only way I can describe it."

"Are you all right?" Angel sounded concerned.

"Yeah, I'm all right. I didn't swallow any of it. I didn't like the idea by Allandra, she offered me some of hers and I was starving, so..."

"You fed on her?!" Angel shouted over the phone.

"Ow! Hey, I didn't take much, she's resting but she'll be okay. Besides, it was either take a little from her and get through til nightfall or go insane when I woke up and hurt or kill the next warm blooded thing I came across."

"I see your point. The hunger can be pretty consuming." Angel sounded calmer. "Still, it's not a good thing to feed on somebody no matter what the circumstances are."

"Yeah, I agree with you. Luckily Anezka was kind enough to train me until I knew how much was enough." Xander spoke.

"Alright. Was there anything else?" Angel asked.

"Yeah. Have you ever heard of a demonic vampire with red eyes?"

Angel sighed. "Not often. It occurs with really, really old vampires sometimes. It's like a fluke."

Xander sounded a little concerned. "Alright, how old?"

"Couple thousand years at least. There's not too many of them over that age though."

"Hm. Curiouser and curiouser. I saw Buffy's demonic face today. She had red eyes, not the usual yellow."

"Well, it could be that she's a turned Slayer. Other than that I can't help you though."

"Crap. Okay. I'll find out what I can do there. Oh, Angel, I was wondering if you could help me out on something."

"Depends on the thing. What is it?" Angel asked, sounding curious.

"Well, I trashed a nightclub last night too. The owner, which belonged to the nasties happened to get killed in the process, so it's up for grabs. I was wondering if you could pull a few strings so that I'd end up owning the place if possible. At least with that as a front I could keep things a little under wraps around here." Xander said.

"That's easy. I've got quite a bit of cash lying around, giving that club to you shouldn't be too hard. You'd be surprised what tricks lawyers can do when you've got a lot of money." Angel sounded amused.

"Yeah, thanks Angel."

There was a beep on the line.

"Hang on Xander, I got another call."

Xander was treated to elevator music for a little bit, then it cut off. "Sorry Xander, I'm sure you hate the music." A familiar voice said.

"Who is this?" He asked.

"Oh I'm hurt, Xander. Or should I call you Nighthawk?"

Xander blinked, then it clicked in his mind. "Cordelia! It's good to hear from you. Angel wouldn't say anything about where you were."

Cordelia sighed. "Well, he couldn't. Considering I'm kind of...dead and all."

"Dead? Huh? Don't tell me you got mixed up in my club too, Cor?"

"No. I'm dead. Sort of. Cordelia died thirty years ago. But hey! I'm connected! Literally!" She spoke, sounding cheerful.

"Eh? I don't follow you." Xander said, very confused.

"When I died, I couldn't quite leave. I worked hard and flew around in places I do not want to remember at all because they were just icky. When I got back to the Skinlands, you know that's what dead people call our world, interesting huh? Anyway, when I got back, I couldn't stay long, but Angel, Wesley, and Gunn worked some mojo, and put me into a computer. So really, I'm hooked up to damn near everything."

Xander chuckled. "So you're hooked up like Moloch was, huh? I bet it'd be easy for you to pick your way through most databases."

Cordy chuckled. "Yep, I'm better at hacking than Willow ever was. Although it helps that I live in cyberspace, literally. Oh well."

"That's kind of cool, Cordy."

"Anyway Xander, if you want to talk with me, here's a number to contact me with." She rattled off a series of numbers, which Xander quickly wrote down. "Oh!" She exclaimed. "Angel wants to talk to you, he's got something to say."

There was a click.

"Xander. I just got a call from a friend. I told him about Buffy, he's coming back into town to help you out, I think he'll be good." Angel spoke.

"Oh? Who is it? Spiderman? Batman? I could use Batman's help around here, he's cool with all those gadgets." Xander said, partly just to annoy Angel.

Angel sighed. "Hey, don't pick on an old man. You know I didn't read comic books."

"Yeah, sorry, Master of the Gray Hair. Who's popping by?"

"Oz."

Whew. Anyway, Ifrit's free and ready to play, Oz is dropping by. He won't say anything, but he's dropping by. And just what the hell IS up with Buffy!?

Worry not! All will be revealed...eventually.

Hope you liked this part, please review.

See you later all.