Chapter 2

Tree Hill, North Carolina
17 August 1999 – 03:32 EST

"NOOOOOOOOO!" Xander screamed, bolting up in the backseat of his car. He was panting heavily and a cold sweat glistened on his forehead from the nightmare he had just awoken from. The dream was so vivid in his mind that his ears still seemed to be ringing with the explosions and he had a taste of blood in his mouth that he deep down inside knew wasn't there. So real, he thought to himself. Why the hell do they have to be so real?

He looked about and took in his environment. His wrecked car was parked outside of Keith Scott's Body Shop, where Lucas had towed him to after his accident a few hours earlier.

He liked Lucas. The guy had a nice way about him, but Xander thought there was something else, as well, something that he couldn't pinpoint just yet. They had talked for a while after dropping off the car, and Lucas had gone and gotten him a couple of sandwiches from his mom's café. Lucas had told him that he would be back in the morning before class with Keith to discuss Xander's car and to see if they could work out some kind of deal, but one look at his watch confirmed that that wouldn't be for a few more hours.

Xander sighed. I'll never be able to go back to sleep anyway. Might as well take a walk and get to know Tree Hill a little. He bent down to look for his shoes in the darkness when he heard a commotion outside. He looked up through the rear window and his eyes grew wide. You gotta be fucking kidding me!

He saw the last three of his targets a few hundred yards ahead of him as they turned another corner. One of them seemed to stop and raised a rifle in his general direction. Good, he thought to himself, I am getting tired chasing these fuckers all over town.

He stared at the street in front of him and imagined it empty. Pictures of black asphalt and dark gray sidewalks, of shadows and the occasional streetlight filled his mind, and when he looked up again a feeling of detachment from the world had crept over him. Convinced he was hidden from view he stepped out into the street from the parked car he had been kneeling behind and started walking toward his enemies.

"What the fuck happened back there? This was supposed to be a normal transport, not some God damn massacre," Carl was cursing through clenched teeth as he and his two packmates were running for their lives. They had just stopped outside a car shop, and Carl dropped down to one knee while aiming his M-16 down the street they had just moved on. Looking back over his shoulder at Darryl and Mike, he took in their bad condition and snapped, "Mike, get us some wheels to get out of this hell hole."

Mike nodded and regretted it immediately, wincing from the pain caused by his broken neck. Despite spending a lot of blood on healing the worst damage he knew it would take several nights to be fully restored, and even then it was very likely that his spine wouldn't mend perfectly straight. There'll be hell to pay next time I run into that guy. He looked around at the various cars that were parked outside the garage and, ignoring the ones that were in obvious need of repair, headed straight toward a Chevy Cavalier that looked acceptable.

Meanwhile, Carl was scanning the street for any sign of pursuit, while Darryl stood with his back against the wall, supporting his balance further by leaning on the handle of his broadsword. A small puddle of blood was forming on the ground where he was standing, most of it dripping down from his left arm where the hand had been cut off a few minutes earlier. Darryl felt Carl's gaze on him and returned it, giving him a weak yet defiant smile. "No worries, it's not as bad as it looks."

Carl gave him a brief nod and turned his attention back toward the street. No, it's not as bad as it looks. It's actually worse.

When he got close his exceptional sense of hearing picked up the sounds of his targets, and a grin came over his face. He circled around the building and decided to go up to the roof to get a better view of the situation. Taking measure of the 20-foot high wall, he effortlessly jumped up and landed on his feet in one quick and graceful motion. The feeling of detachment still hovering over him he slowly walked across the roof and approached the opposite side.

Looking down he saw the remaining three vampires he had fought with earlier. He removed the SPAS 12 combat shotgun from under his heavy leather jacket and called to the blood inside of him. His limbs filled with liquid fire as the power of the blood surged through his whole body. The world around him seemed to stagger as time slowed down and all the movements below him appeared to be in slow motion.

He took a step forward and dropped down from the roof, his reinforced combat boots aiming at the head of the vampire below him.

Darryl never realized what hit him. The combat boots connected with the top of his skull as the figure from above jumped down on him, and he was driven to the ground by a force large enough to knock him out cold.

Carl whirled around at the sound coming from his right. In the spot where Darryl had been in an instant before an imposing figure glad in black leather pants and a dark heavy biker jacket stood, aiming a shotgun straight at Carl's head. Carl saw a reflection of himself in the mirrored sunglasses his attacker was wearing. The words "Killa B" entered his mind a split second before a flash erupted from the shotgun. The magnesium round hit him square in the face from point-blank range… effectively taking his head off and ending his existence. His body never reached the ground, turning to a mixture of dust and ash instead.

By the time Mike had turned around to the sound of fighting the attacker was right in front of him, using his shotgun like a club and aiming at Mike's head. Mike managed to raise his arm before the blow connected, which had enough force to splinter the bones where it hit his elbow and sent him flying across the parking space. With a thud he connected with the wall, the impact effectively breaking his neck for the second time that night. Through the haze of pain Mike fought desperately to remain conscious. Indescribable agony shot through him as he felt himself being lifted by the neck and smashed against the wall behind him, where he was held in place dangling above the ground. His vision focused on the black man holding him there with one hand, while the other removed the pair of sunglasses and tucked them away inside the leather jacket.

"As I was saying earlier, before you and your friends so rudely interrupted me, you have been found guilty of violation of the first, third and fourth tradition of the Masquerade and of belonging to the Sabbat. You have been sentenced to the final death by Justicar Jaroslav Pascek of Clan Brujah. Have a nice fucking day!" With the last words, he reached up with his second hand and ripped off Mike's head, turning him into dust. He glanced around the once again empty parking area before taking out a cell phone, dialing a number he had to use many times in the past couple of weeks.

"This is Theo Bell. I intercepted another group heading north. short pause It's a town called Tree Hill, just off I-17. another short pause 8 kindred and 2 ghouls. pause No, that won't be necessary. I'll do the clean up myself." He ended the call.

Xander had done his best to remain hidden from the three armed men just outside his car, hoping they would move on without realizing he was there. When the silence of the night was interrupted with the sound of a shotgun blast, followed quickly by the sound of fighting, he carefully raised his head to quickly glance through the rear window again.

He saw a heavily built black man, glad in dark leather pants, a biker jacket and a black New York Yankees cap, holding another man up against the wall with one hand. Another man was down on the ground, obviously unconscious and bleeding heavily. The black man, with his back to Xander, began to speak, and Xander was able to make out the words through his partially open side window. Masquerade? Sabbat? Justicar of Clan Brujah? What the hell is he talking about? He watched as Mike's head was ripped off and the vampire turned to dust. Not having expected to see that, it took him a second to overcome his initial shock before he dropped low again in his backseat. 3000 miles from home, and I still manage to find the place where the shit hits the fan. Could this night get any worse?

Theo was just about to bend down to lift Darryl's body from the ground to drink him dry and quench the worst of his thirst when he was suddenly grabbed from behind and pressed against the wall of the garage by an incredibly strong force. He felt his arms pinned behind his back, and he was barely able to move his head to glance over his shoulder and catch a glimpse of his attacker.

A small, dark-haired man stood into the middle of the parking lot. Black tendrils of solid shadow extended from his fingers, holding Theo helplessly pinned down in their iron grip. Fucking Lasombra! I knew this was all too easy. Damn it!

"Archon Bell, thank you so much for tonight's entertainment. I have to admit that I was quite impressed by your performance." There were police sirens in the distance, and the man looked around the area briefly before he continued to speak. "I am afraid there won't be much time to get more acquainted. You did a good job, all considered, and you sure were a thorn in Polonia's side these past weeks, but it will stop here and now, I'm afraid." Theo was struggling to break free of the shadow tendrils, but to no avail. He already was low on blood, but he continued to burn more of his vitae to send additional strength into his arms and legs. "Any last words from the mighty Theo Bell?"

Theo's anger further fueled his attempts of breaking free. His arms felt like they were burning from the inside, the raw power almost tearing his muscles apart, and he could start to feel the grip that was holding them in place weaken ever so slightly. He didn't think it would be enough to free him in time before his attacker finished him off, though, so he turned his head around as far as he could and spat out through clenched teeth, "Fuck you too, asshole!"

His attacker laughed and raised his right hand, the tendrils extending from his fingertips merging into a large single one that hovered over Theo's body. "Good night, Archon Bell," the vampire said, bringing his extended arm forward and down.

Theo saw the shadow form moving quickly toward his head and felt a strange sense of peace while he waited for the blow that would end his existence to connect. Instead of the pain, he felt the shadows holding him in place disappear as he dropped to the ground. Confused, he looked around, taking in the scene before him. His attacker was lying on the ground, a wooden stake protruding from his back. A teenage boy was standing over him, staring at the body with a look of frustration on his face and letting out a sigh. "Damn it, not another one of those! Can't they just die like all the rest at home? Giles is so not going to believe this."

Sunnydale, California
17 August 1999 – 00:45 PDT

Rupert Giles was sitting at the desk in his dark living room, the only light coming from a large reading lamp in front of him. The place was littered with open books everywhere, and occasionally the watcher would get up, walk over to one or the other book, cross-reference something and then return to his seat.

Xander's call from a week ago had him very concerned. Vampires were supposed to die upon being staked. It had always been like that. Not one of his records in the watchers' diaries indicated otherwise.

At the moment, he was reading through the journal of Johannes von Reden, a watcher that served a slayer in northern Germany in the late 11th century. The writing was clear and concise; however, Giles had a hard time making sense of some of the old German in the text.

For the past two days he had been working on a translation of what seemed to be an ancient prophecy Johannes claimed to have found on scrolls in the local cathedral's archives. It just didn't make sense to him, and even a call to the watcher's council in England had not brought any further clarity.

"… and the dark champion and the three sanctities shall stand tall amidst the black flood, and not drown in but rise above it," Giles was reading out in a low voice, his brows furrowed in frustration and concentration. "He who walks the night and he who lights the day shall forget their eternal struggle, so God be willing, thus restoring the equilibrium of good and evil, of light and darkness, of truths hidden and secrets revealed, henceforth and till eternity, for if they fail, the end of days will be upon us and the dead shall inherit the Earth."

Giles looked at the sheet of paper in front of him. "Good Lord!" He stood up and began pacing the room, polishing his glasses with a handkerchief. It doesn't make sense. What did he mean by the three sanctities? It's clearly a reference to a clerical or spiritual entity, either…

His thoughts where interrupted when the phone rang.

"Giles residence, this is Rupert speaking."

"Rupert, this is Travis," said an elderly voice in a clear British accent.

Giles stiffened noticeably, placing down his glasses on the desk in front of him. "I pertain that this is in regard to my recent inquiry?"

"Yes, it is indeed." Travis seemed to pause for a second before continuing. "We looked it over, and tried to figure out ourselves who the prophecy could be talking about. We believe your translation to be accurate for the most part, but we are not sure about the…" there is a shuffling noise of papers audible over the phone, "Dreiseligkeit that is mentioned. There are several theories as to which individual or entity could be inferred here, but nothing solid yet. However, Morten came up with something that is quite peculiar. In the literal translation of the word, or to be more specific, the translation of the various parts of the word, there is a completely new meaning evolving."

Travis paused, causing Giles to finally say, "And what would that meaning be?"

"It means 'The one with three souls'."

Giles picked up his glasses again and began cleaning them rigorously. "Good Lord."

Tree Hill, North Carolina
17 August 1999 – 03:58 EDT

Theo slowly got up from the ground, his eyes never leaving Xander, who, in return, eyed him suspiciously. "Thanks for the help," Theo said while starting to slowly walk toward his rescuer.

Xander laughed. "If I were you I would stop right there." He reached behind his back and pulled a stake and wooden cross out of his back pockets, bringing them into view in an almost casual manner but keeping his arms lowered for now. "I don't have a damn idea about what is going on here, but do you really think I don't know what you are?"

Theo raised his left eyebrow in response, looking Xander over with a new sense of caution. I really hope he didn't just mean what I think he meant. He saved my ass, but if he knows about the kindred then he is a danger to the Masquerade, and I am afraid I can't just let him get away like that. Paschek would throw a fit, and that's never a good thing. Theo almost grinned at the thought, but kept his face and composure unreadable. "I don't know what you are talking about." Man, that was lame. I'm really not good at this bullshit small talk.

"Oh please, spare me. I live in Sunnydale, California; don't you think I would know a vampire when I see one?" When Theo didn't show any reaction, Xander continued, "Come on; don't tell me you haven't heard about Sunnydale. Home of the slayer and a lovely Hellmouth that attracts you fangies like an open house at the local blood bank?"

"The slayer?" Theo said, trying to confirm that his ears didn't play a trick on him.

"Yeah, you know, one girl in all the world destined to go an' kick some major vampire ass? Does that ring a bell?"

This night just went from bad to worse. I need to talk to Paschek right away. Theo reached into his leather jacket, which caused Xander to take a step forward while raising both the stake and the cross. "Don't even think about it, dead boy!" Theo froze briefly before continuing to pull out his cell phone. Before he had a chance to start dialing he saw the typical red and blue lights flashing as a police car rounded a street corner two blocks south and headed straight their way. Xander saw them coming, as well, and suddenly realized how bad the situation must look. Two dead bodies on the ground, one of them being staked through the heart with a piece of wood that had his fingerprints all over. The assault weapons on the ground seemed almost trivial compared to that. Xander groaned. "This is not good."

With a nod at the items Xander was holding, Theo said, "Put those away, follow my lead and just be quiet." He reached into his leather jacket and pulled out a leather bound identity card. The police car came to a screeching halt, and the two officers jumped out, weapons drawn. "Freeze! Get your hands up where we can see them!"

Xander immediately did as told, while Theo held both of his hands in clear view before revealing his ID. "I am Agent Bell with the National Security Agency, and you, officers, are interrupting a federal investigation." He established eye contact with what looked to be the senior officer and immediately pushed into the mind of the man. Years of frustration and disillusionment with his job had eroded any resistance Theo might have encountered otherwise, and he could feel that the man was receptive for his coercion almost immediately. "There is no need to do this at gun point and attract any more unwanted attention to the situation."

The officer lowered his weapon and turned to his partner. "Keep an eye on the other one while I verify his ID." "You got it, Mark!" his partner acknowledged, keeping his weapon trained on Xander while Mark slowly stepped forward toward Theo. When Mark was close enough, Theo handed him his ID and established eye contact again. With a low voice so that only Mark could hear him, he said, "When I am done talking you will look at the ID card for a minute and pretend to make a call confirming that it is real. Then you will walk back to your partner and tell him that we are cleared and that this is indeed a federal case. You will ask your partner to come over to speak to me, after which you will get into the car and wait. When you partner enters the car, you will call into your department and tell them that you found no evidence of any shooting after investigating this site. You will forget that you ever saw anyone around here tonight. You will go home and feel so tired that you go to bed directly and sleep. Do you understand?"

Mark nodded, took the offered ID and checked it. After pretending to call into the command center to confirm it, he looked up and said, "I am sorry that we interfered with your investigation. I hope you have a good night, Agent Bell." Theo nodded and responded, "Same to you, Officer Degner."

A few minutes later both officers were on the way back to their headquarters, never remembering anything unusual about the night.

Xander looked after the disappearing police car and shook his head. I don't know what's worse: the police in Sunnydale who just looks the other way and explain everything with gangs on PCP, or this. He looked back at Theo, who had just put his ID away and gave him a questioning look.

"What is it?" Xander asked, his eyes briefly locking with Theo's. It was all the vampire needed to establish a mental connection. Contrary to the ease with which he was able to deal with the two police officers a few minutes ago, Theo felt a large resistance when he tried to push into Xander's mind. It took him a lot of effort and time to slowly chip away on the wall of willpower and determination that opposed him, but he kept whispering his coercions into Xander's mind, gradually building false memories and suppressing the real ones about the events of the past hour.

The hyena spirit had been pacing restlessly in the magical prison ever since the binding spell had trapped it there. It was a leader, the alpha of the pack, and the existence within the confines created in its host's mind was unbearable. When it first heard the call, it seemed far away and unnoticeable. It took it a minute to recognize it, but when it did it howled. The barriers holding it trapped began to shake, and tiny cracks appeared on the bars of mystical energy that held it in place. The call grew louder: a challenge for supremacy, a challenge to its leadership. The alpha howled again, fighting against its imprisonment and accepting the challenge that had been issued. The call grew louder and louder, and with a blinding flash, the barrier shattered and was gone. The alpha raced to the surface, following the call. It felt weaker than it could ever remember being before, but it would resume the alpha position again. It reached the surface and howled. The hunter had found its prey.

Theo was almost done with planting his suggestions into Xander's mind and convincing him that he had never seen him and that the events of the past hour had never happened when he felt a sudden surge of pain and his mental connection broke down. His beast, the monstrous side of his vampiric being that constantly struggled with his conscience for control and that forever tried to extinguish the flame of humanity inside of him, roared in response with such force that Theo could only avoid the red haze of falling into a frenzy by extending every bit of trained control he'd acquired in over a century of being kindred. He raised his gaze to look at Xander again, and saw the teenager throw his head back and howl. The beast inside Theo responded to the call, and Theo's vision turned red.