Roses for Lucifer

Chapter 5


Credits: The Ring of Regha, the Two Winters' Amulet and the Dagger of Lazarus are items from the Hellfire extension of the Blizzard computer game Diablo. I liked the names, so I used them for this story.

There is some action of the NC-17 kind in this chapter which doesn't involve Spuffy, but this is necessary for what I'm planning.

It was in the early morning hours when Buffy and Angelus returned to the headquarters.

Buffy noticed with uneasiness that he was walking her to her door although his own quarters were at the other side of the building.

"Here we are," Buffy said, trying to escape into her rooms as fast as possible, "I'm really tired now, see you in the evening, good night!" She reached for her keys.

Angelus was faster and caught her hand in the movement. "Are you not inviting me in for coffee?"

"You don't drink coffee," she said soberly.

"Well, actually you don't have to invite me in, this room is in my house anyway," the vampire reminded her and pushed the door open.

Buffy noticed with surprise that the door had not been locked, though she was sure she had locked it twice.

She walked into the room behind Angelus, slowly and cautiously. The door fell close behind them.

"You're not exactly polite to your guest," she remarked.

"You're not exactly a guest," Angelus replied.

Buffy knew the expression on his face well, she had seen it once too often. She would try to settle things sensibly. "Listen, I told you I want to go to bed."

"I won't prevent you."

"I want you to leave."

"No, you don't."

Not this time, Buffy thought. This time he would not stalk her, this time she was prepared. And she would fight him with all she had. "Are you leaving peacefully or do I have to show you to the door?"

Angelus seemed almost amused at the threat.

Buffy no longer bothered with threats. She attacked.

She had learned from her earlier fights, she did not fall victim to his mock attacks, and she skillfully avoided his eyes so he would get no chance to hypnotize her. She fought like a lunatic, irrational and with energies she had no idea whence they came. She hit directly, once, twice, three times, not with full power, strong enough to be felt, yet too weak to do harm.

His strikes were different. Unlike in the night's previous fights, he was not trying to show off. His moves were unspectacular, but well-placed and always on the edge of real pain. "Getting tired, Slayer?"

"No, not yet," Buffy admitted and launched an aggressive and very effective attack.

Her slayer instincts helped her recall the fight the evening before, and again, suddenly, not realizing where the knowledge came from, she knew what would be his next move. She blocked his right arm and hit his unguarded left side with her leg. She saw his surprise and used it for some more hits at her target.

Yet Angelus was not the one who lost the upper hand that easily. He faked an attack of the kind he had used before, and Buffy reached out to block it, then she suddenly changed to different tactics.

The amused smirk on his face had vanished and given way to real anger. He's angry because he's losing, Buffy realized with surprise. Had Angel been in his place, he would have concentrated on increasing the speed of the fight, relying on his vampiric stamina to tire out even a Slayer. But not Angelus. He now aimed at hurting her.

On purpose, he targeted the parts of her body that were still bruised from the night before.

Buffy ignored the burning pain. She shot out her fist, managing a blow that would have broken his jaw had he been human.

Out for revenge, he morphed into game face and lunged at her.

This was exactly what Buffy had expected. She evaded the attack and tried to go for him instead. Angelus realized his mistake and backed away, a sound of silk torn apart was heard as all Buffy had caught was a stripe of his shirt. Buffy noticed the mark of her crucifix on his chest was no longer visible.

He hit her with all his vampiric strength.

Buffy felt she was bleeding, her lip began to swell, but he would pay for that.

Her moves were unpredictable. Buffy maneuvered him into the corner of the room.

Angelus smiled internally. She thought she had him shoulders against the wall, but he would let himself fall and drag her to the ground with him.

He was just about to do this, when he shrank back from the crucifix around her neck.

"You should have left quietly when you had the chance," Buffy said, quite out of breath, yet triumphant.

"You feel very courageous with your little toy, don't you," he said. "But it's not a game. This could really harm me."

Buffy met his gaze. "I don't care."

His game face had drawn back. He could have looked human. Had there not been the cold in his eyes, the scorn in his smile. He might have lost one battle – but he was resolved to win the war.

With enormous effort, his hand feeling as if it was on fire, he closed his fingers around the cross.

Buffy did not understand. "What the hell are you doing?"

Angelus did not reply. He tried to keep the pain from his face, which he managed only very superficially, but he did not let go. Buffy felt uneasy. He held it for too long, it would burn him if he didn't take his hand away now.

"Stop it," she commanded.

The smell of burnt flesh was all over the room now, and the scars the cross would leave this time might take centuries to heal.

"Let go!" she shouted, but the vampire ignored her. "You'll get yourself killed!"

He just held her gaze.

Buffy had to act. She gathered her strength and finally managed to wind the cross out of his hand. It fell to the floor.

"What were you trying to prove?" she shouted angrily.

Only then she realized that she had just dropped her defenses, the means to keep the n atn at bail.

"That you do care," Angelus said. "You care about me. I can kill you a thousand times, and you'll still care about me."

They were staring at each other, Buffy's fingers still clutched around his wrist. Desperately she felt her anger melting away. "I don't care about you," she claimed, more to convince herself than Angelus, "Your fighting was cheating, it was cheating to use your knowledge of my injuries!" She tried to withdraw her hand, but he did not let her.

Too late Buffy realized his eyes had locked on hers. However hard shied,ied, she could not look away.

"Hypnosis is not your style," she managed to say. "No suffering."

"How little you know me," he replied, "I could make it hurt a lot more."

His eyes were like arrows, piercing her consciousness with a violent attack of pain. Like from far away, his voice reached behind her agony, "Or much less."

She fancied herself lying on soft grass, sunlight warming her skin, pleasure flooding over her, easing the tension of the fight.

Buffy fought back his intrusion on her mind. She succeeded in freeing herself from the trance he had tried to put her in.

The tables turned. If one of them was to be the aggressor, it would be herself. She would be the one in control. Angelus did not seem to notice she had withdrawn from his influence. He had no idea she was wide awake. Convinced she was perfectly at ease, he cast down his eyes and sank his face on her shoulder, in apprehension of the perfect moment to break her skin. Buffy drove her knee into his guts.

The vampire's eyes flew open as he felt the sudden pain bring tears to his eyes.

He froze in the movement. And in the usually unreadable eyes flashed... terror.

I scared him, she realized suddenly. However, Buffy did not have long to enjoy the temporary power.

"Oh, you've started without me," Faith's reproaching voice was heard from the threshold to the bedroom. So this was why the door had not been locked.

"How long have you been here?" Buffy snapped. "Who let you in?"

"Relax," Angelus said, "I asked her to come."

"You did... what??? I thought we were alone!"

"So did I, when last night you invited Spike along." Angelus shrugged. "It's just like old times, Buffy, just the three of us."

Buffy let go of him and thrust him against the wall. "I told you I never share," she said and walked proudly from the room.

"I don't know what she has," Faith said innocently.

*

A vampire, as a creature of the night, usually had a very precise sense of hearing. Nevertheless, Angel could not believe he had heard her correctly. "Can you say that again?" he asked.

Buffy suddenly realized her mistake. He has a soul, but he is not my Angel, I must not forget. She broke the embrace and smiled. "I wanted to say how much I appreciate your support, I mean...I'm sorry. We'd better get to work."

Angel attributed her strange behaviour to the circumstances, the impeding end of the world, yet he made a mental note and decided to be watchful. "So, can you give me any details?"

Buffy nodded. "I guess it's better if David tells you everything."

*

David showed Wesley an old tome. "The Two Winters' Amulet, the Ring of Regha, and the Dagger of Lazarus. A set of three items."

"That's impossible. It's a fairytale," Angel said.

"Really? Like the Gem of Amara?" Spike asked angrily.

"Nothing's impossible," Buffy agreed, "I'd like to hear it."

"Well, if you want. But I'm telling you it is a fairytale. Wes, could you fill them in, please?"

Wesley nodded. He sat down as he began to tell the story. "The legend comes from an ancient monastery somewhere in the UK, back in the days of the dawn of Christianity. It was built near a holy place of the Druids. They say one of the nuns fell in love with a druid, a forbidden love for both sides. They managed to keep their relationship a secret from the world for two years, and their only chance to meet was at every new moon, when everything was dark and silent, and the druids usually withdrew for meditation. The druid is said to have made a necklace for his love, he had worked on it for two years. It bore the sign of the pentacle, a symbol of the druid faith. One winter night, he was ready to present it to his love. Of course he was anxious to give it to her. He did not care it was full moon, and one of his superiors saw him. He was accused of treachery, of breaking his vows and of working together with the hostile new faith, and sentenced to death, a sacrifice to his Gods whom he had angered.

His lover was desperate, she crept into his prison the night before the sacrifice. She wanted him to run away with her, but he refused, for he loved her too much to draw her into his doom. They cried for a whole night, and in the morning she left him a ring, it was her most precious property. It bore the symbol of a heart; it stood for her undying love. Her mother had given it to her on her death bed. Historians called it the Ring of Regha. That was where her family came from, the place does not exist any more. The nun refused to take the necklace, since it only had brought upon them misery.

He died the next morning. The druids left his body under the shadows of an old oak. At night, the nun took him away furtively and buried him in a crypt under the monastery, with the ring and the necklace.

The centuries passed. Times were changing. Henry VIII founded the Church of England and had the Catholic monastery devastated to take the Pope's property. That very cloister was not spared.

When the soldiers discovered that there were secret treasures in the catacombs beneath the monastery, they even entered the crypts and defiled the graves. As they opened the coffin in which the druid had been buried, one of the soldiers dropped his dagger. He had inherited it from his ancestors, one of whom had been a cross knight. It was believed the dagger originally came from the Holy Land. On its handle, the oil twig from the biblical Noah relation was illustrated, symbolizing hope. But from that day, it has always been referred to as the Dagger of Lazarus. For as it fell into the open coffin, it formed a triangle with the Ring of Regha and the Two Winters' Amulet. The combination of the three items must have evoked some spell."

"Faith, love, and hope," Giles added. "Christian priests have always claimed it was not magic in itself, but these biblical values were. They called it a miracle, not a spell."

"That is correct," Wesley continued, "However, legend has it that the body of the druid rose from the ashes and lived again. The Amulet – faith – restored his mind, the ring – love – his heart, and the dagger – hope – his soul. The change was permanent, he was fully human, yet everyone swore he possessed certain magical powers afterwards, such as resistance to pain, strength, telekinesis, and telepathy. The legend says the items were able to give their bearer immortality, or a normal human existence, whatever he wished in his heart. The story continues that he looked for the nun, and when he had found her burial place, he brought her back to life with those items. According to the legend, they wanted to avoid the set would fall into the wrong hands, so they took care they were stored separately and never to be united again."

"And if they haven't died, they still live today," Angel closed. "Wesley, you don't believe this, do you?"

"Well, the fact is, the description in this old book fits exactly the necklace Riley and Sam retrieved from the party at the club. And the Dagger of Lazarus was purchased by D fro from a museum in London a few years back on behalf of the Council."

"They had no idea what they had got there!" David said with a hint of pride.

"Do we know it is the same dagger?" Angel asked skeptically.

Wesley nodded. "Do you see the pentacle? Compare the necklace to the text in the book. If you have a better explanation, I'd suggest you produce it now."

"Who would want to be human if you can be young forever?" Spike asked.

"No limits, Spike," Wesley said. "It's a bit like the Gem of Amara, just that it is no illusion. It doesn't end once you take off the ring. Power, immortality, salvation."

"Okay, not that bad, after all," Spike admitted.

"Would be heaven if it existed," Angel said in a low voice.

"I'm convinced it does," David replied, "All recent research says so. We may have something very powerful here. Each item alone is useless, but all three of them mean perfection. No wonder vampires want to have the items."

Buffy nodded. "Listen, Angel, what I have to say now isn't gonna be easy." She took his hands in hers. "We have to destroy them."

Angel nodded, the Gem of Amara on his mind. "Yeah. You're right. They're too dangerous."
“Destroy them, are you insane?" Wesley blurted out. "They have existed for so long, why destroy them now?" Wesley insisted on asking, while he was still looking for any references in his prophecy translation.
“They are part of a greater spell the other side is trying," David explained. "Have you ever heard of the Curse of Seth?"

"The Curse of Seth is a legend," Wesley refused.

"So far," David confirmed, "But you know the three items can defeat death. If they should ever be re-united, their energies would make the worlds of light and darkness lose all balance. Because death would be no more. Latest information from the witch circle in York is saying there has been a concentration of energies in two centres of the world. Buffy's home and yours. The final battle is approaching. The equilibrium of good and evil is lost, the only way to re-establish it is to destroy the items."

"Sam and Riley got the necklace. You got the dagger. We don't have the ring," Angel reminded him.

"You must destroy the items," David insisted.

"I have to research this first," Wesley replied suspiciously.

"We don't have the time!" Buffy insisted, "If you really want to do research, you'd better hurry."

"It may be better like that," Angel agreed. "But destroying the items will not be easy. They were created through powers older than our magic."

"I have detailed instructions on how to do it," David assured them, "I can be of use." He exchanged a glance with Buffy. "It's for the best. You have to trust me on that, Angel."

*

The docks were a busy place in the early morning hours. However, Buffy had no difficulty distinguishing David in the crowd.

"Glad you've come. Can we walk a bit? They mustn't see us together."

Buffy nodded and followed David away from the lot of people into a side alley the foggy light of morning had not touched so far. Buffy felt uncomfortable, her instincts told her they were being watched. She looked around, but she could not see anyone who would have raised her suspicion. She ignored the odd feeling, telling herself the sun would be up in a few minutes, confining the vampire to his quarters. It was David who required her full attention now, she could not afford to let anything escape her.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked.

Buffy hesitated. With the real David being one of her most trusted friends, this one should be a devilish enemy. "You're David," she finally said, "My... Watcher."

He smiled faintly. "One could say so, yes. I expected you'd have forgotten many things, you've traveled quite a distance."

Buffy looked at him suspiciously, about to ask him what he meant.

"One does not return from the dead every day," he added.

"Speak for yourself," Buffy said dryly.

David looked at her thoughtfully. "Your eyes are cold. What's wrong? Don't you trust me any more?"

"Why the secrecy?" she inquired.

"I came to warn you. Avoid the Host. The green-skinned demon you saw at Caritas. He can read your soul when you sing. This could be fatal to our cause."

"Our cause?" Buffy said, "How do I know my cause is yours as well? I don't trust you. Why do you lure me away to a remote place like this? Why did you turn up at the bar in such a ridiculous masquerade?"

"What should I have done in your point of view, walked up to the table and said 'Hey, Angelus, could you leave us for a moment so we can conspire against you with your mistress'?"

"I'm NOT his mistress," Buffy corrected mechanically. Then the meaning of David's words struck her. Conspire against Angelus. This would mean David was on her side.

Buffy was left no time to ponder upon this realization. She heard a noise. An unnatural noise, like steps.

Buffy was not surprised to turn around and see Faith.

"What else? His equal?" Faith said. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but for that, you'd have to get past me."

"That can be arranged." Buffy replied coldly, determined to take the challenge.

David gave her a pleading look. It's another Slayer you're going up against!

Faith seemed to guess his thoughts. "You don't know what you're saying, have you gone crazy? You must know that going against my experience is suicide."

"This is not about experience," Buffy said, "This is about destiny."

She pushed David out of her way and attacked.

Faith was surprised, but not surprised enough. With a skillful jump, she evaded Buffy's attack and caught her from behind. Buffy headed for the wall, shoving Faith against it with a violent jerk, forcing the other woman to let go of her. Faith was furious. She aimed a kick against Buffy's chin and moved quickly towards her again. Blackness before her eyes from the hit, Buffy was desperate not to let down her guard. The darkness slowly faded, and she could see Faith reaching for a weapon, which Buffy quickly kicked from her hand.

Faith stretched out her hand and pulled Buffy's hair, making a burning pain shoot through her skin before Faith's fist hit her face.

Buffy hit back.

Faith stumbled backwards, not expecting that much resistance from someone just returned from the realm of death.

Blood was trickling down from Faith's eyebrow, stimulating her even more into rage. Her next move made Buffy's back hurt badly again, evening the score. Another hit sent Buffy to her knees, the agonizing pain in her stomach too much to take without flinching. Faith took the chance and was over her.

Buffy drove her elbow against Faith's chest as hard as she could, stunning Faith for a moment long enough for Buffy to get back on her feet and hit again. She pushed Faith away, sending her against a pile of wooden transport boxes queued for being taken aboard by one of the ships. The boxes came tumbling down, some of them shattering to pieces.

Faith, dazed at first, quickly looked around the debris she was lying in, for something she could use as a weapon. In the pieces of wood she soon found a large shard of broken glass. She clutched her fingers around it and made a rush at Buffy. Buffy was almost fast enough to avoid her, yet Faith managed to scratch her arm.

She reacted instantly and caught hold of Faith's arm, pulling her into her direction, and threw the other slayer over her shoulder.

Faith hit the ground hard, her shoulder blades hurting like hell.

Enraged even more, she jumped to her feet and aimed several hits at her attacker.

To take the energy out of the blows that hit her, Buffy was forced always further out of the alley into the open of the dockside.

The sun was high in the sky now, she felt sweat breaking through her skin, but she fought even more fiercely.

Faith returned her blows with equal strength and ferocity, but hers were always a little more painful, slightly more determined.

The two women were so involved in their fight that David seemed to be the only one to notice they were moving closer to the water.

Faith prepared her final blow.

Buffy never knew what instinct made her anticipate the move and get out of her way, but she did. The power of the other slayer's attack went into empty air, however, there was enough energy behind it as to make both of them lose their balance and drag them into the water.

As Buffy felt the waves close above her head, all sounds were drowned in the silence of the water. The colors of the world around her dissolved and were finally washed away. Salt water was burning in her eyes, and she felt the painful grip of her adversary on her shoulders, desperately trying to keep her under water. She struggled to get hold of Faith to drag her down, but the other woman had come to the surface to breathe, she was on top and determined to let her die from the lack of oxygen. Buffy dealt her a few painful blows, then she realized she could not hold her breath for much longer. Her blood began to boil, the heat rising in her body as her skin slowly cooled down from the icy floods around her. She needed air, and she needed it now. Again she fought frantically against the iron grip that held her down.

Suddenly a muffled sound reached into the silence under the surface. Then a cloud dyed the water around her, a red cloud, like red watercolor dissolving in the sea. The grip that kept her down loosened and gave Buffy the freedom to move. Coughing and at last filling her lungs with the oxygen she needed, she came to the surface. She was disoriented for a few moments, the reality she could breathe shading everything else. She tried to get the salty taste out of her mouth when she realized she tasted something else. The red liquid in the water tasted of blood. Buffy looked around for Faith, her vision still blurred by her burning eyes. She spotted the other slayer climbing from the water. Her arm was bleeding, she was wounded. At the docks, Buffy saw David, some long range weapon in his hand. She could not make out what it was, but she realized he had saved her life by wounding Faith so she could no longer keep her down.

So it was true. David was on her side, had even crossed a Slayer to save her. This meant something else. "David!" she screamed. Buffy gathered her strength and parted the water with fast movements, following Faith, praying she would get there on time. In combat with a slayer, her Watcher would not stand any chance at all.

Buffy was still a few yards from them when she saw Faith beating the weapon out of David's hand before he had a chance to open fire.

Faith struck him down without noticeable resistance.

Buffy darted out of the water and ran towards them, ignoring the pain and the nausea which would have made any ordinary woman pass out.

She rushed past her opponent, who stood next to David's body without any visible emotional reaction.

David's eyes were staring into the sky, the visible stimulus on his eyes did not seem to reach his brain any longer. Buffy supported his head with her hands and noticed blood streaming over them from David's skull as she felt for a pulse. She felt a faint beating of his heart. "Don't leave me," she whispered, as tears welled up in her eyes. Beside her senses from the impression of almost drowning and the fear for his life, she tried to remember about CPR. "I'm getting help," she added desperately.

David did not seem to see her any more. He turned his head into the direction of her voice, and with a last effort, he replied: "Sorry I failed you."

"No," Buffy cried, "You didn't fail me, you never..."

Then the heartbeat stopped. He breathed out. But not in again.

For a moment, grief overwhelmed her for someone she had hardly known, and yet at the same time known so well. At last she sat up straight to turn her head to Faith. "I assume you know you're gonna pay for that."

She had spoken into emptiness. The other slayer had disappeared.

And she had left Buffy with more determination than ever to fulfill her part of the agreement with Spike. She would return to her own universe. Now she knew the David of the parallel world had been good, there was just one very dangerous implication --- the David of her own universe, the David who was with her friends now, who had gained their trust, was evil...

*

"We have to be more careful," Buffy chided David, "They have to trust us without even questioning your authority!"

"They will," David tried to calm her. "It's logical they should be suspicious, they don't have the best experience with the Watchers' Council."

"I know," Buffy sighed. "But couldn't you have thought of a better explanation than the Balance of Power?"

"The most simple logic seldom fails. A spectacular story is much more subject to investigation. We have a deal, and I suggest you don't refrain from it now."

"Don't worry, David. You will get what you want. And so will I."

He laughed nervously. "When you first came to my apartment, I thought you were her. My Buffy."

She smiled innocently. "And are you disappointed I'm not?"

He shook his head. "No. You're better. And I liked your plan from the beginning. I just don't like the way you look at Angel when you think nobody notices."

She blinked. "Jealous much?"

"You know we'll have to kill him."

She nodded. "Yeah. But I'm more than ready to sacrifice him for my brave new world."

*

Faith was very contented when she returned to Angelus' quarters.

The vampire was sprawled on the bed in a very relaxed way. The first few buttons of his satin shirt were open, the candles, which were the only light in the room, casting a warm light on his pale skin. "Where were you?" he asked.

Faith smiled radiantly. "At the docks, havin' some fun." She walked up to him slowly, the high heels she wore allowing no faster movement and making her hips sway seductively.

Angelus returned her smile. "What kind of fun, lover?"

Faith stood at the side of their bed and leant against the heavy curtains. "Walking in the sun, swimming, killing..."

Angelus took her hand and slowly pulled her down to himself. "Whom did you kill?"

Faith lay down lazily on the sheets. She ran her fingers over Angelus's body and began to undo the remaining buttons. "Just an annoying warrior of the light," she purred in his ear and kissed him.

"Who was it?" Angelus wanted to know.

"Come on, you won't spoil tun tun talking about business... By the way..." She reached into her bra and to hand Angelus some money she kept there.

"What's this about?" he inquired.

"Your fifty bucks," Faith replied.

Angelus tore her top and bra open and helped himself to the money. "So I was right! She did try to kill you! What did you do?"

"Nothing... virtually. I just almost drowned her..."

Angelus's eyes showed a brief sparkle. "Naughty... What else?"

Faith put on her innocent schoolgirl look. Involved in another passionate kiss, she pinned the vampire down on the sheets and flung herself on top. "I killed her friend," she explained in a low, soft tone others would have used for a love vow.

Angelus closed his eyes, enjoying the sound of her voice. "Tell me how," he whispered, ripping her skirt off.

"It started out as a concussion," she whispered back, unzipping the fly of his pants and running her hand over his cock. "Then I just struck him down and smashed his skull."

She noticed with pleasure how the content of her tale aroused him, awakening all his instincts.

The night would be quite long.

"What happened then?" Angelus inquired, his voice trailing off from rapture.

Faith's breath was fast, but steady. Her cheeks were glowing as she continued whispering her account, covering Angelus' body with her caresses. "Buffy jumped from the water. She was desperate when she realized she could not save him. She suffered. I think something died in her today."

"No one makes me feel like you do," the vampire managed to say though he was almost driven out of his mind. Then, through the veil of his uncontrollable passion, he suddenly perceived Faith was not moving any longer and had stopped talking. His eyes flew open.

Faith was still on top of him, her clothes hanging in shreds from her perfect body. Her hair fell loosely into her face. Her eyes were fixed on the door.

Angelus followed her gaze.

Buffy stood there, he didn’t know how long she had been watching the scene. She was wearing a black coat which was so long it reached down to her ankles. Her blond hair was shiny and framed her determined face.

Faith's smile turned into a contemptuous grin. "Hello, sister."

Buffy's voice was cold as ice as she replied: "You've started without me."

Faith settled herself comfortably in an upright position. So what?"

"You said something died in me today, Faith, and you were right," Buffy added. "Wanna know what? My conscience." She tore the crucifix she had been wearing from her neck and tossed it aside. Then she let the coat fall onto the floor.

"You've changed your mind!" Faith exclaimed in surprise.

"Did you borrow that from Harm?" Angelus wondered, staring at the outfit she wore beneath the coat. Black lace, leather, a garter belt.

"I have my secrets," Buffy replied.

Angelus speaks...

In my time I have seen many things. I have done many things. Thought I had been everywhere. Tonight I was taught I had not. You can live for a thousand years, and you still learn. No matter with whom I had been in my years, I had always been the one in control. But not tonight.

The way Faith had told me about killing this unimportant wretch whose name she did not even bother to remember had made her more irresistible in my eyes than she had ever been before. I had expected to get my satisfaction from the knowledge of Buffy's suffering tonight, conveyed to me by my hell goddess of death and torture. The way we used each other to bring about our dark passions, the purity of evil united, was so familiar we embarked upon that road too easily, as if we had never belonged elsewhere.

It is a myth as old as mankind that any man dreams about more than one woman to share his passions. Many were sacrificed to our circle of violence and pleasure, many had begged for their lives and died in an ecstasy they mistook for love, not death. For Faith, it was a game she enjoyed. Yet never had one of them complained or raged against our plans. You can be a vampire for a thousand years, but you will never be ready for two slayers. Faith was beautiful and wicked in my arms, controlling my reactions, even before Buffy entered, and I willingly gave her control. Her moves were an open secret to me after the years spent in her sinister embrace. I could smell Faith's arousal when she became aware of her adversary. If there was anything that rendered the night hours more powerful for us, it was the kill before we united. That was exactly what Faith intended to do. She craved for Buffy's blood on her hands to deepen the experience, to give her the thrill before I did.

But Buffy would not fight. She wore this combination of lace and leather that would have taken even my breath away had I been human. Faith was stunned at first. Then she smiled at her sister slayer and gestured at her to join us. Her notion of victory, the feeling she had finally won her over to an everlasting darkness, set Faith in high spirits.

My own feelings were different. From the moment Buffy entered I sensed the need for revenge through the adrenaline in her blood. She whispered to me she would make me pay for forcing her to sing in public, to lay her soul open before me. She whispered she would make me wish I had one. I felt she had bathed in Holy Water as soon as her skin touched mine, forcing me into game face without my being able to control it. It had all dried away, it would not kill me, but the pain triumphed over every other sentiment in my mind, it paralyzed me, I could not move without feeling even deeper agony. So all I could do was lie in the darkness and let her surround me. Each touch of her made me more conscious of the pain, a sentiment only comparable to the feeling you are dying, the endless falling before your bones are crushed when you hit the ground.

There was a time I thought I would pass out before she would push me over the edge. Then she gave me a minimal amount of her blood to make me remain conscious, offering me her pulsating veins, and I drank from her as if my unlife depended on it. She wanted me to feel every step of her way, so much I could taste in it. When she withdrew and I tasted the aftermath of the Slayer's blood – I still tremble as I admit it – terror seized me. I tasted death in it.

I wanted to free myself, to escape from the nightmare that would turn into my personal hell. She would not let me. I heard Faith's voice like from far away, reaching into my darkness, is he all right? Then I knew no more. I climaxed harder than ever in all my years as she rode me, Buffy's picture pressed itself upon my mind, it seized my passions and carried me away into timelessness.

The smell of blood filled the room, I felt my whole body was covered with it, the warm liquid of someone else's life. And the realization slowly came that one of the women I held in my arms was dead.

TBC...
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