Cometh the Hour

COMETH THE HOUR

Part 3/5

This day has been really weird, and it isn’t getting any more normal. I didn’t realise that he had food in for me, but he has – just some quick snacks, anyway. Apparently dinner out was on the agenda for tonight, but we have demons first. I’ve put my hair up, using some black combs that he borrowed from Drusilla for me, and I have the black dress, the choker and some very classy black shoes. Nothing else. My underwear got shredded, remember? The outfit he bought for me doesn’t seem to include underwear and, by his smirk, that was deliberate. Now we are descending the staircase to the grand hall, my hand on his arm. I hope I don’t trip and spoil the effect!

The three demons are robed and cowled, although the cowls are pushed back. I don’t remember these ones. We remain standing to receive them. They have some boxes with them. Tribute? Spike does the introductions, in a rather casual manner that I can see annoys Angel. The one called Ixolon comes forward to speak on behalf of the group. He bows deeply before he speaks.

“We come before the Master of the Hellmouth in supplication, seeking your forgiveness and your blessing on our humble clan.”

Uh-oh. Forgiveness? I don’t know how mellow my lover is feeling, but forgiveness doesn’t often feature with him. I wonder what for? He asks them. There’s only a slight edge to his voice.

“The Kahlavi cult tricked us into selling the Slayer to the Hylekians. We had no idea that she was yours. We come to make such amends as are possible.”

What! It was this bunch that… I want to take them apart myself, but then I remember all the good things that have come from that kidnapping. Perhaps we owe them rather than the other way round. My anger disappears – more or less. Not so with my demon. He’s still on first instincts. My lover is filled with rage, and a growl is rising from him. Well, at least they get the merit of making the confession. If he had had to hunt them down – which he intended to do – they wouldn’t have got this far into their explanation. They are hurriedly opening up the boxes.

“We were paid 100 Hylekian diamonds. We have sold 4 and much of the money is spent, but we offer to you the 96 that remain, together with as much of the sale price as we have left. $35,000.”

Two of the boxes are opened, now, one containing the wonderful, glittering jewels. I didn’t realise that diamonds come in different colours, but these do. The other box contains cash. Bundles of crisp, new notes.

“What makes you think that these will make reparation for what you did to my mate, my Consort?”

His words are cold and icy, and all the more deadly for that. But at least he hasn’t killed them yet.

“They cannot, my lord. They are merely to show that we will not profit by our error. We hope that our other gift will show you the depth of our repentance.”

Ixolon takes a small box from one of his comrades. He comes forward gingerly and opens it. It contains a not very attractive ring, in rather an old-fashioned setting, but Angel’s gaze is riveted to it. So is Spike’s.

“We have the Gem of Amara, my lord, and we make a gift of it to you. We hope that you might consider this as our reparation.”

He reaches for the gift. He sees that I do not understand its significance. As he puts it on, he turns to me.

“It makes a vampire invulnerable, my dear. Sunlight, stakes, it doesn’t matter. Nothing can kill me whilst I’m wearing this.”

He seems pleased. Oh, my.

************

The Norag demons have, indeed, given me a gift beyond price. If they are able to find magical artefacts such as this, then perhaps they can find more.

r gir gift is pleasing to me, and is accepted. So is the tribute. But your sin against me was a mortal one, and if your clan wishes to live, this does not end your debt to me. How many are there, in your clan?”

“Less than 50, my lord. We have never been numerous.”

“You will select three of your members to be attached to my court. They will do my bidding. Once they have been accepted by me, you will not change them for other individuals without my express approval. Your service to me will last for 50 years, one year for each member of the clan. After that, if the alliance has proved useful to both parties, it may be continued at my discretion. Should they prove unfaithful or unsatisfactory, I will kill first them, then the rest of you. Is that clear?”

“May I have a moment to confer, my lord?”

I incline my head graciously. You see what I have just done?

They have pre-empted my anger at their taking of the Slayer. They knew that I would eventually find them, so they have come forward of their own accord. They have told me who bears the b for for Buffy’s abduction whilst accepting their part in it. This shows wisdom and courage that I can put to use.

They have brought me just about the best present you could imagine, in the Gem, and have indicated, by bringing tribute, that they have placed themselves in the position of my vassals, subject to my will. I have further tied them to me for 50 years. But to do so will also be seen by them as a reward. They are the first to pay homage to me, and they will have seniority aurt.urt. They will have prestige and influence if they can carry it off. And after the 50 years, they have a shot at a different sort of alliance. I don’t think they can believe their luck. They’ll pick the best and smartest to come here. They won’t want to waste this chance. And if they don’t live up to expectations? I don’t think you need me to answer that, do you?

Mind you, they escaped by the skin of their teeth.ey tey took my woman and my first thought was to slaughter them. But Buffy… The scent from her is, well, pleased, as if she had just met old and valued friends. That held me for a moment. And I think of all I have gained from their sin. Things might have been different, had I not gone to Hylek to look for Buffy. I will be generous.

I’m not sure Buffy understands, yet, just what has happened here. She is such a great warrior, with so many other…desirable…qualities that I tend to forget how young she is, how unschooled in diplomacy. I’ll explain it to her later. She must learn, and I am confident that she will.

Ixolon accepts the deal with some alacrity. The three will be here in two days. I take my beloved out for dinner. We are going to the best that Sunnydale currently has to offer. I’ll make sure that it has much more in the years to come. This will be an important city instead of a hick town. It should be. I’m here.

You know, I rather like this new state of mind. Had this happened a day or two ago, I would have killed the demons out of hand. Now I have something much more useful than some corpses. I told you I was feeling more amenable. Still, I have a score to settle yet with the Kahlavi cult. Their debt to me has increased considerably. I intend to collect in full. With interest.

*************

I’ve enjoyed this night. I’m still feeling…mellow. Buffy, too, enjoyed her meal. I can eat human food, so I did. Aged beef, very rare. It made a change.

After that, we came back here and satisfied other…appetites. So now, we are back to kittens in a basket. I am curled around my lover, as she lies drifting off to sleep. But there is something wrong. It is to do with the Gem of Amara. She has said nothing, but she does not need to. She is worried, in her capacity as Slayer, about invulnerable vampires, and those same vampires moving around during daylight hours. Even me. But others as well, if I choose to lend out the ring. As if I would be so foolish.

Well, strange as it may seem, I have no intention of using the Gem often. I don’t need to. The night is my milieu, and I am more comfortable there. Most of those I shall be dealing with are also more comfortable at night. The Gem will be useful for other times. And for protection when I need it. Besides, I don’t want word of this leaking out until my position is more unassailable – I’d spend all my time fighting off every vamp in the hemisphere if they knew I had the Gem.

I leave our bed and search through a drawer in the dresser. Mr Pointy lies in there, still stained with my blood. Next to it is a fine but strong silver chain, a beautifully worked figaro, onto which is threaded the claddagh ring that Soul Boy gave her, the one that I have recently removed from its place on the stake. It is still a little deformed, but not much. Next to it on the chain is the claddagh that he wore.

It doesn’t take much thought, really. There is a time for compromise. A time for giving, rather than taking. This is that time, that hour. I haven’t yet told her that I no longer resent her love for Angel – well, not as much as I used to, anyway. I can kill two birds with one stone here. I’m a demon. I can only tolerate so many unselfish acts in a day. I take the Gem off my finger and thread it onto the silver chain. I take both claddagh off the chain and put his back on my finger. Then I return to the bed. She has roused a little. I fasten the chain around her neck and slide her claddagh onto her finger. Her left ring finger, of course.

“When I return from Canada, you and I will have a mating ceremony. You *are* my mate, and I am yours, but the ritual has been a bit flaky, to say the least. We will do it properly. There are some auspicious days for these rituals in the next few months.”

Not that I’m superstitious, you understand. Never. It is just that some days are auspicious. Right?

“For that ritual, I’ll have some rings made. Rings just for us. Until then, I want you to wear this one, the one that Sou…Angel gave you, and I will wear his. I know he still has a place in your heart, and I won’t try to deny that, so long as you love me as well as you do him.

“I know you’re worried about how I’ll use the Gem. I want you to know that you can trust me, so I’m giving i you you as a pledge. You will be guardian of the Gem. I’ll ask for it whenever I need it, but you will be its keeper.”

I seem to have said something that’s made her all warm and fuzzy and emotional. I’m definitely going to take advantage of that, right now…

***********

I let Buffy go back home on Sunday. I’m still feeling happy, though. I’ll drop by her window later, when my business is finished. First, I’m off to see the Aventi clan. Remember the stupid fledgling who almost took Joyce out? Time for me to tidy up that loose end. I know where they live.

What a dump. They’re a disgrace to vampiredom. I knew they’d fallen on hard times, what with me being back and all, but will you just look at this joint?

I’ll just sit in what looks like the master’s chair, and wait. I don’t think they’ll be long. They aren’t staying out hunting much in case I find them out in the open. They think they are safe here. Foolishness. Ah! Here they come.

There are six of them. I have enough stakes.

************

Well, that was bracing. The four minions are gone, dusted. I have the childe at my mercy, my stake pressed to his silent heart, and the head of the clan, Estevan, is definitely far too fond of him. He’s going to give in. I’m going to let him. I’m going to take Estevan and the childe Thomaso, into my service. In more ways than one. Estevan first. I’ve come prepared and I handcuff Thomaso to some convenient ironwork. He can watch. I explain what crime I am punishing. They both look a bit sick. Still, they aren’t dust. They should be grateful for this more…amenable…side of me.

There are a number of ways to deal with survivors from another clan. In your tribal wars, you kill them, enslave them or ransom them. We’re much the same. I’m going for the enslavement route. For us, it doesn’t quite mean what it does for you, but it’s a close enough description. I’ve had my eye on these two for a while as brighter than the average. I offer them that alternative or the stake. They choose to live. Both of them are good looking enough to serve me. They will start as minions, but they will be able to work their way up. Why will I be able to trust them, these two who are no better than conquered enemies? They’ll have my blood, after all. This isn’t going to be the same as making a childe, but it will bind them to me just as surely. Watch, and learn.

Estevan has stripped for me now. There need be no preliminaries or preparations. This is not a lover’s tryst. This is a bonding, master and servant. He bends over the arm of the chair. Good boy. I enter him in one swift thrust, and it’s all he can do not to cry out. He’s *very* tight. He’s about a century old, and I guess it’s been most oft tit time since this was done to him. The boy watches, wide-eyed. He’s next.

I ride Estevan hard, and as I approach my peak, I slam my fangs into his neck, and drink long and deep, draining him as thoroughly as I safely can. His blood is good, better than I had expected. Old and powerful. Nothing like mine, of course, or like any other Aurelian. Not bad, though. He hasn’t struggled, much; he knows I’ll drain him dry if I’m not pleased with him. At last, I’ve taken as much as I think is necessary. I reach forward and offer him my wrist. He takes it, and drinks. That’s when I explode into him. Let me tell you, absolutely nothing gets me off like being drunk from. And being drunk from whilst enslaving a master vampire? I let out a roar of triumph, and he is mine. My bondservant.

The whelp is next. He pleases me, too.

When I am done, they are both weak and hungry. They need blood. I’ve given them as much of mine as I’m prepared to – enough to remake them as vampires, enough to make them mine, not gh tgh to make them any stronger than they were before. I’ll bring something fresh for them, then they can sleep it off and join me tomorrow night.

I feel pleased with myself. Not only have I got a couple of top class minions who have potential for much more than that, who are tied to me in ways that you could not possibly understand, but there is one less clan operating in Sunnydale. Buffy will be pleased with me for that.

I’ve left them a couple of muggers I picked up in the park, after drinking my fill, of course – is *anyone* still stupid enough to go through the park after dark? What with the vamps, the demons and the muggers, I’m not sure any ordinary humans have a chance of making it out alive! Although it has to be said, I’m going back through the park. The night in Sunnydale has nothing more dangerous than me; I’m off to see my woman; the full moon is riding high; I’ve got a belly full of blood, and all’s right with the world.

I’m in the middle of the park when I smell something. I recognise it instantly. It’s the smell from Willow’s room, when I last saw her and Oz. It’s…oh my. Now I know exactly what it is. It’s been a very long time since I last came across that scent. It’s Oz and it’s werewolf. And it’s coming from the same person…being, whatever. I don’t think little Willow knows. I wonder whether Oz knows, andemememember that bandage on his hand. I’m damned sure Buffy doesn’t know. Here’s a pretty pickle! I think I’d better take a detour and investigate. This is my town, and I really don’t want werewolves operating around here. They leave far too much mess behind them.

Then I see Oz, and he’s definitely gone through some changes. He’s an infant at hunting though, and he’s going to make a mess of it. I guess this is his first. And he’s after some more of the football team. I’ve already had grief from Buffy about that. I’ve had to ’fess up to her why I turned so many of them in one night. They were doing something that she definitely wouldn’t approve of to a couple of unwilling girls, right here in this very park, so I exacted revenge for her. My sort of revenge though. I enjoyed them, as they had been enjoying the girls, then I turned them, so I could enjoy them some more. She’s staked the lot of them now. Shame. I wasn’t going to tell her about it – I don’t want her thinking I’m going to act as her proxy or her white knight, in any way whatsoever – but at the time that she was putting her question she kind of had me by the balls. Literally. So I told her. She’s got Slayer strength, remember, even if she was just teasing.

So, I can’t let Oz take any more of the team, or I’ll be in serious shit. I’ll be even deeper in it, I think, if I let Oz get hurt. The trials of being a master vampire, I ask you…

I’m behind Oz before he knows it, and before he can spring. He’s no match for me, of course, so I take him down and…shit! He’s *bitten* me! Me! What effect do you think reworewolf bite has on a vampire? What do you mean, me tell you? How the hell should I know? I was born in Ireland not the damn Carpathians. I knock Oz over the head, heft him over my shoulder, and set off for the mansion. My goodwill is rapidly evaporating. It isn’t just that I have a werewolf bite, nor that I have a werewolf to deal with now; I’m missing time with my woman here.

When I get back to the mansion, Spike takes the piss, just as you would imagine. In fact, he’s howling with laughter, and he simply doesn’t see my fist, the one that knocks him clear across the main hall. That shuts him up. We manage to rig up some of the chains (if you don’t want to know, you shouldn’t ask) to form a collar and harness, and get Wolf Boy securely fastened to the wall. A vampire can’t tug those chains loose, so he won’t. It’s all a bit Heath Robinson, but it’ll do.

Now what? I’m not so worried about Oz. What’s done is done, there, and he’s a werewolf for life. What about me, though? Spike has seen the teeth marks in my hand and started to laugh again. I’m too tired to hit him, this time.

Then just to put the seal on this evening, the one that started so well and is now degenerating into farce, the hostages arrive. The three Norag demons.

***********

I’m laughing so hard that if I were a human, I think I’d piss myself. It’s not really funny, though, and I soon sober up. A vampire bitten by a werewolf. I don’t remember that being done before. Perhaps it’s just never been recorded, which might not be a good sign. Usually weres stay well away from us, but this one’s just a baby, with no more sense than a puppy. And now we’ve got demons. It’s that Ixolon, come back with two of his buddies, holding to their word. My sire is not in his most receptive mood.

“Don’t just stand there gaping, make yourselves useful!” he snaps (yeah, that is exactly the right word). It’s just at this moment that Dru chooses to come back from hunting, and she goes off into gales of laughter as well, until tears are running down her face. Can’t be too serious, then. I have to admit that she’s mad as a March hare, but she’d never let anything bad happen to her Daddy if she could help it. And I think she’d have one of her visions, if it was going to be all doom and gloom.

He pulls himself together with siblsible effort – only because of the demons, I think.

“Spike. Get the wolf fed. See what you and the Norag can find out about the bites. Dru, you help him. I’ll be back later.”

And without another word he storms out of the door. Off to see his ladylove, I suppose. She’s changed him, has that one, although I don’t know if he knows it yet. Something happened on Friday night. Oh, he’s still the old Angelus, who can take the skin off my back while whistling a merry tune, but he’s different. More. Not more anything, really. Just more. I like it, although I’m damned if I’ll tell him. And the Norag should like it. Their skins would have been decorating his trophy room, not many days ago, for what they did to one of his.

I send one of the minions out with one of NoraNorags – they need to find their way around town, might as well start now. The minion couldn’t believe his ears when I told him what to look for. You see, ol’ Spike likes his body arranged the way it is. I think it might get rearranged if I bring the wolf a human to eat. That’s a change I’m not too keen on in the Sire – he’s starting to get picky about who we can eat. Slayer-whipped, that’s what he is, but you won’t catch me calling him that to his face. We’ve got all that money from the Norags – he thinks I don’t know where it is, but I do – so I could send the minion out to get as much steak as the wolf can shove down his gullet. I won’t, though. I can have more fun than that.

I set the other two Norags on to Angelus’ library – I was never one for research, myself. Learning by doing, that’s my style. Dru and I go upstairs for a bit of mutual learning by doing. And we’re in the middle of a particularly intense piece of doing when all hell breaks loose downstairs. Bloody hell!

When we get there, Dru and I are back to hysterics. The wolf is going frantic at the smell of blood. The minions are tripping over themselves trying to catch the wolf’s dinner. The Norags look bemused. There’s a lot of blood spatter. There’s a lot of other, rather more smelly, spatter. Angelus will be displeased. I’d better take a hand. Here, piggy, piggy, piggy… Hell’s bells, I can’t do this for laughing.

**********

I’m sitting in the tree outside my lover’s window, watching her undress, letting the sight of her assuage the fear and the anger that is running through my blood. I’ve told you before that anger is innate to demons. Not like this. Oh, I’ve known rage such as you humans can barely imagine, but I am always in control, and my rage does not make me irrational. Now is different.

I can feel my blood boiling, filled with the rising red tide of ungoverned, unreasoning rage. My veins itch with it. My fangs are down, and I cannot control my appearance. This has *never* happened to me since I was a few days old. Darla made sure of that. But I have always been strong, always able to control. Not now. I look at my beloved, and I can taste the hot, sweet spurt of her blood in my mouth, feel her torn flesh under my claws. I can taste the tender meat of her, melting on my tongue. not not *safe*. Not even for her. I should leave here. But if I do, wherever I go, I will destroy everything I find. The need to destroy is pounding through me, the heat of my rage burning through my flesh. My claws are shredded and gory, stained with my own blood, as I clench my hands around the wood of this bough, splitting and splintering it in an effort to restrain myself. If I stay, she will hear me, I’m sure, and I cannot think of what might happen. If I go, I wdo tdo things that will seriously piss her off, and that she might not forgive. I must cling onto that, as this dark cloud of madness tries to steal my sanity.

And yet something else is happening. Something is rising within me to challenge this rage. I cannot describe it. I do not know what it is. It is not me, Angelus, and it is certainly not that puling man-child, Liam.

Just for a moment there, I wondered if it was some residue of *soul*, something of Angel that was left behind. But I shared this body with that ridiculous whining spirit for a century, and I know every tint of his thoughts, every shade of his emotions. Everything. It isn’t him. And what help could he be, indeed? So, what is it? There is nowhere else for me to go until I can master myself. If I lose this battle, she will die. So will everyone and everything else. And I will die in the ashes of the burning world. I *must* master myself. I do *not* want to tear the red, bleeding flesh from her golden body, feel the hot, thick blood drip down my jaws, feel the gush of slaver at the taste of her. I do *not* wish to crunch my teeth around the whiteness of her bones, feel them splinter in my teeth, savour the sweet marrow that they contain… No! I will stay here until I am safe. Until she is safe with me…

It is a long time before I can retract my fangs; before I can look on her as anything but meat; before I can override the urge to tear into her most tender places and feast in truth on her silken flesh. But whatever else came to my aid has done its work. I am almost a vampire again, with only a vampire’s rage and desires. These I know. These I can master. I can only pray to the powers of hell that that *other* rage does not return, does not catch me unawares. That my demon self is strong enough if it does.

Predators can stay still and silent for hours, waiting for prey to come along. Ambush hunting, it’s called. Even Soul Boy loved to sit here, watching her. Half the time she never knew. She doesn’t know I’m here. We are mates. We can sense each other. But I’m better at this than she is. Even in that uncontrolled state that almost brought me to disaster, I could still hide from her senses. When she gets more experienced, I won’t be able to do it, so I’ll take advantage of it while I can. I think I’ve been here for about an hour, and she’s ready for sleep now. She doesn’t think I will come to her. Not much longer, and she’ll put out the light. She’s wondering why I’ve left her alone for the night. Her mother’s out, so we don’t need to go back to the mansion. Just a little while longer, and I’ll introduce her to things that go bump in the night. Give her a thank you for anchoring my sanity tonight. Meanwhile, I just love watching her. Must be the only thing Soul Boy and me have in common.

************

I lie in the dark, and I’m lonely. I don’t know why he hasn’t come to see me tonight. I miss him so when I’m not with him. I used to think that Angel and I are soul mates. I still think it, in fact, and I will never be persuaded to think differently. Strangely, though, I feel the same way about my demon. How can a demon be a soul mate? And as with Angel, I feel that I’ve known him forever, *will* know him forever. Do you think that could be true? Do you think that we get more than one go round? More than one shot at life? I wish I understood more about what happens… afterwards. Somehow, I think that Angel or Angelus, it’s all him. I don’t know how that could be, but I just think it is. Don’t you ever feel certain about things that you can’t really know about, but you do? That’s how I feel.

Slayers never get to live very long, you know. The hereafter is therefore a matter of some concern. We just never seem to get chance to look into it. We find out by doing, mostly. But, you know, I get the feeling that, with Angelus by my side, my chances of a longer life have improved considerably. Do you think I might be right? If Angel and Angelus could be with me together, I think my life would be as happy as it could possibly be. I don’t feel as if I’m betraying my sister Slayers. It just feels right.

What the…Get OFF me, where are my weapons…Oh. It’s him. Dear God, I should have felt him coming.

I put the light back on – I’ve been starved of the sight of him fornty-nty-two hours and seventeen minutes. I want to see him.

He looks beautiful to me. His face is gentler than I’ve been used to since he lost the soul. Have I done that? I hope so.

I see that his hand has been bitten and I ask him about it. He gets the slightly sheepish and slightly shifty look that I’ve learned means he doesn’t want to answer because the answer doesn’t help his macho image. It looks like a dog bite, although that seems most unlikely, and it’s fresh, still bleeding. I bring his hand to my lips. I’d planned just to kiss it, but I find myself sucking at the puncture wounds, drawing on the tiny drops of blood.

He rips himself away from me! Why would he do that? He sees my look of hurt and comes back to the bed, settling himself behind me so that I can lean against his still and silent chest. So peaceful, so right. He has his hands resting on my stomach, his left hand clasped over the injured right one, and won’t let me look again. I thought that he would want to make love, but he seems content just to sit, for the moment. I can feel his desire, though, in the small of my back and the depths of my blood. He whispers a few endearments, and I whisper back. Then he talks about something that has been on my mind.

“I’ll have to leave for Canada soon. I may be gone for some time. Something around 10 days if I’m lucky, 2 to 3 weeks if I’m not. I need to spend some time in Hylek before I leave – maybe a week. Will you miss me?”

“Between settling into new accommodation, settling in as a freshman, and keeping Spike, Dru and your minions from dining off the entire town in your absence, do you think I’ll have time to miss you?” I say airily. I suddenly don’t want him to know how empty I’ll be while he’s away.

He sees through me, though, and chuckles. Then he becomes serious again, and I feel him shift slightly behind me. He’s uncomfortable about something.

“You aren’t going to stake Spike and Dru while I’m away are you? Feel free to stake the minions if they get out of line, but Spike and Dru?” That wasn’t what he was going to say, I’m sure. This is one of those conversations where we keep fencing around each other, looking for the right opening.

“Well, I’ve seen plenty of chains up at the mansion, I guess I can keep them around until you get back.” I remember something he said – he rarely says things without a purpose, this one. “What do you mean out of line? Have you given them a line to stick to?”

His arms tighten around me. His answer is bit mumbled.

“Yeah. I’ve put strict limits on who they can kill. Spike thinks I’m Slayer-whipped although he daren’t say it to my face.”

“He’s damned right you’re Slayer-whipped…” I try to turn around to face him, but his arms tighten and hold me still. I remember Friday night. Should I be worried? I don’t sense that I should, but…

“I’m your Consort, aren’t I gue guess there are some…expectations…of what I should do? Am I responsible for anything in your stead, or is that Spike?”

“Who do you want it to be?”

What sort of answer is that?

“I think I’d have to be responsible. But the minions had better damn well stay in line or Spike will be vacuuming them up for you!”

“I’ve got more responsibilities now.”

What! Please don’t let him have been out making another childe. We’ve never discussed this so far, but I don’t want him turning people. Please let that not be it.

“Tonight I’ve dealt with the Aventi clan, the ones responsible for the attack on your mother. The minions are dead, and the master and childe have become my bondservants. And the three Norag demons have arrived. I was also thinking of asking Ezrafel to come back with me from Hylek, to take a position at court, liaise between us and our Hylek estate.”

Well, he has been a busy boy. I still want to know where he got the bite. A small trickle of blood is coming from under his hand. He ought to have healed now.

“I guess I can deal.”

He nuzzles my neck, and my spine tingles with pleasure. He must be able to sense my arousal, but he doesn’t move.

“What…what would you do if anything happened to me?”

Full-blown panic sleets through me. Even the thought of losing this man, for that is what he is to me, is more than I can bear. I struggle much harder to turn around, but again he denies me.

“Well?”

“I…I don’t know. I’d have to carry on, I suppose, sacred duty and all. But I’m not going to let it happen!” I’m really fierce about that.

He’s nuzzled up to my cheek, and I feel his face break into a smile. He whispers something, so low that I’m not sure I heard right. It sounded like “My lioness.”

“Would your sacred duty involve staking Spike and Dru?”

He’s serious about this, so I give it some thought. Part of my mind is gibbering in fear, but another part sees the need to reassure him. He’s never seemed worried about dealing with the Kahlavi cult before, but no way do I want him up thereryinrying about what’s happening down here. I must make him believe that all will be well in his absence. He won’t be able to afford any distractions. And he’s building an empire here. Just a few building blocks for now, but everything starts with just a few bricks. I’m part of it. Could I make it work without him? Can I truly act as his Consort, and use what he has made for my own Slayer-purposes. I think I can. Maybe. I can try, at the very least.

“Not if they’ive ive by the rules I set them. But you aren’t only worried about them are you? You are the Master of Sunnydale, and you’re worried about all those who consider themselves to be tied to you, to be your property. Aren’t you?”

He’s silent for a few moments, then, “Yes.”

“Is that the vampire way?”

“It’s the Aurelian way. Somehow, we tend to be a bit different to your average vamp.”

You can say that again.

“Are you going to teach me everything I need to know about being your Consort?”

“Yes.”

“Then I guess I’d better act the part, hadn’t I? They’ll all be under my protection while you are away. Them, and any other lost lambs or stray dogs you happen to take in before you go.”

I feel his body stiffen behind me.

“You didn’t get bitten by a DOG did you?” If he did, I’m going to laugh, I know I am, and his pride might not take that well.

There is a very long silence now. Something important is happening here.

“Angel, you asked me to trust you. Now I need you to trust me. What’s wrong?”

The silence stretches on. Then he tells me. Oh, God.

I turn around using sheer Slayer strength, and I cup his face with my hand.

“We’ll look after Oz, and I’m going to make absolutely sure that nothing will happen to you. We’ll get Giles on it as well as the Norags. And Ezrafel – he’s a scholar. I. Will. Not. Let. You. Be. Harmed. Do you understand?” He must understand and believe.

The look of love that he gives me is so pure, so much like Angel that I cannot believe this demon does not have his own soul, or at the very least part of Angel’s. There is nothing of evil in that look. Nothing.

I want to make love to him now. I want to show him, with every cell of my body, that I love him and that he is mine to protect, just as I am his. But we need to muster our forces over the bite and over Oz. Giles. We have to call Giles.

And Willow. Oh, God, Willow…

************

On to Chapter 4