The encounter had come sooner than shed thought. You couldnt stay in LA too long before running into a demon or two if you were a rogue Slayer. Only she was kind of pissed that it had happened while she was giving some guy a friendly warning from the girlfriend her had beat up on once too often.
Faith. Heard you were back out again. The sense of something there in the shadows of the alley, something not human.
She tightened her choke-hold on the terrified man just for an instant to let him know he was not off the hook. If you ever dare lay a finger on her again you know what Ill do to you, dont you? She put her face up to his, invading his personal space in a very personal way. Dont even think about going back to whack the shit out of her because one: she wont be there. Two: for every bruise on her Ill break on bone in your body.
The man practically whimpered as she let him go. Get out of here. He didnt need to be told twice.
A deep rumble of laughter sounded and the vampire stepped out into the light. Saw you on TV two years ago.
Three, she said tautly, looking at the hulking male. About 60, 70 years maybe. Not a fledgling. Would it be a fight to kill? She couldnt remember the last kill she had made, or whether she could still do it and keep her new hard-earned control. Give me one reason why I shouldnt fucking stake you.
Its not what you do, not when theres something in it for you if you dont. He had to have been a man approaching 30 when he was made, which meant steadiness, not like the easy-dust fledglings who seemed stuck for 20 years at 18. I stayed in Sunnydale for a while, I know you.
So, Chuckles here thought she was still the old Faith? It was an odd feeling ,facing her old self, but there was no real pain. Not when she was facing a vampire. At that an image of Angel flashed across her mind and she shook her head in irritation. OK, he had a soul!
And youre bumping pelvises with him. Right, she hadnt seen him for a week, so could the subject just get dropped?
What? The vampire was looking at her strangely under his brow ridges.
I said drop it. You said you had a business proposition, so are you going to drop it or not? Casually she reached into the back of her waistband and drew out a long blade, running her thumb over its gleaming edge. Or shall we go straight to the fun part? Ill take it slow, I promise. She gave him a Faith grin.
He didnt even flinch. Tough one, but shed been up against better demons. Here?
Ive got no time for stealthy meetings crap. No ones going to disturb us.
He stepped up close to her then and her nostrils flared with the smell of cologne, smothering any scent that her human nose could have hoped to catch. Then listen good because Im only telling this once. I was in Sunnydale and I know the Mayor got as far as he did because he had you as his trump card. Theres another opportunity for you here in LA if you get my meaning.
And whats to stop it from ending like it did the last time?
It wont. He bared his jagged teeth at her in a smile that was more like a grimace. You want to talk shop? Talk to Renard. He held out a business card, a square of dark red printed with burnished copper.
Faith narrowed her eyes. Im not big on the world domination scene anymore. If anything goes, Im only a hired hand, not a major shareholder, got it? All I want out of this is cold, hard cash.
He gave her a speculative glance. Since when did you care about money?
Since I spent three years in jail. The blade slid over her thumb and she smiled at him as the blood welled up. She licked it off with a pink tongue, knowing that his eyes were on her. Still human, remember? Need the green for the basics.
You dont have to be if you dont want to. He was watching her intently now.
She just managed to hold in her shudder. His skin was almost bronze despite the pallor and he was about a hand taller than her, stocky and hirsute. The thought of him touching her made her flesh crawl.
And give up dusting vampires? Then what am I supposed to do for fun, take up knitting? she spun on her heel and walked out of the alley. She went down two streets before she stopped and let her heart pound as hard as it wanted to.
The two vampires rushed at the intruder, one from each side. It never failed to work.
The tall target raise both arms and they heard the click and saw the flash too late. They impaled themselves on the winking blades and turned to dust. The victor swung around, making the loose ring of vampires around him growl and jerk back.
Whos next? asked Angel.
Who are you? one of the eldest snarled, feeling just a tinge of panic. The guys hadnt even shifted into game face, and he had systematically taken out the pack leader and the two oldest unerringly. He was...old. That much any of them could feel.
The tall male shook his head and laughed, turning around to look at all of them. You hunt in LA and you dont know who I am? Sloppy planning, children. Very sloppy. He turned back, dark coat swinging out. My names Angelus.
He watched whatever colour that remained drain from already pale faces and the older, wiser ones hurriedly tried to force themselves back into human features in deference. Either that or praying one of the most infamous vampires in history wouldnt take it into his head to stake them hand and foot outside to wait for the sunrise.
Listen to me very carefully, Angel continued. LA is my territory. Ive marked it and I quite enjoy killing for it particularly if its rats like you, so Id suggest you break up this little nest and get out of here as fast as you can or I might just take it into my mind to help you move.
Master, began an older female. Los Angeles is a huge claim, surely you dont need such a large amount of space? We could coexist...
Im not interested in coexisting! With a flash Angel was in game face. MY territory, understand?
Hes marked the City of Angels as his, Renard was saying over a glass of wine. Routinely flushing out nests and killing those who wont leave. Demons have mixed feeling about him depending on whether he beat them to bloody pulp or helped them. Then he looked up as the door opened and smiled at the lithe young demon who came in bearing a tray of fruit, chocolate and a warm pitcher of something dark red which tinged the air with the metallic tang of iron. Thank you, my dear. Leave that here.
Faith stared at the female demon, who was wearing a corset, garters, feathered mules and a sheer silk-painted robe. What kind of place IS this anyway? she asked as the demon began setting out the refreshments on the table. She was attractive to the human eye, her smooth red skin fine and her slanted pink eyes exotic. Pretty like the others she had seen briefly outside as the tight-lipped old cow in the suit had hustled her into this room where he had been waiting for her.
Renard laughed. "Don't tell me you haven't heard of Madame Dorian's, Faith? Quite possibly the only one of it's kind, it's a pleasant, discreet little establishment where for the right price human men can buy the time and affections of a sweet young demon who in other circumstances would be quite happy to tear their throats out." His hand shot out like a lizard's tongue striking, grasping the female demon's delicate jaw and preventing her from rising. She made the instinctive mistake of trying to break loose angrily, the spines along her backbone rising defensively. With a sudden surging growl Renard morphed into game face, his fingers slipping down to the hollows of her neck where with one twist he could end her life. The pink eyes blinked in fear as she stilled in his rough grip and he smiled at her before tracing his lips over her cheek to her trembling mouth.
"Human men?" Faith watched the violently sexual little tableau with some interest. She'd never actually been in a brothel before, and definitely not one stocked with demons. Super freaky.
Renard kissed the terrified female's lips gently and chuckled. "Males of the non-human kind are not admitted here. The proprietress feels for some reason that they would endanger the well-being of her girls, one simply cannot imagine why." He pressed his fangs softly down on the demon's full lower lip, enjoying her shudder, then pushed her away abruptly, laughing as she whirled and ran out, slamming the door behind her.
"Then what the fuck are you doing here? " He was trying to play a game with her, a game which reminded her how much she used to enjoy playing not too long ago; when things had been very simple. Right up until she began hating it.
He slid back into his human face, arrogantly golden and handsome. His green eyes held a kind of scornful amusement as he poured the thick viscosity of warmed blood into his empty wine glass. "Our world is all about bloodlines, Faith. Blood and strength. My blood goes back to the Dark Ages."
Faith snorted. "So would Angel's if he bothered to check, I'll bet. Don't try to pull a funny on me; demons don't give a shit about vampire bloodlines. You're all half-breeds to them."
His eyes flashed then with a cold rage. "Don't compare me to Angelus, Slayer. While I will admit he is a vampire prince by blood his clan has long since died out, his dam by his own hand. He is a blot on the names of his forefathers and he runs with no pack." Never taking his cold star off her, he drained his glass in one gulp. "The proprietress made the same mistake at first, but she quickly capitulated once she found out who the new owner of the deed to this building was." He set down the glass carefully. "You're not eating."
"I'm just so impressed I lost my appetite," she said acidly. "What do you want me for?"
"Conversation with a beautiful ally who knows the city?"
"The only thing guaranteeing you I won't dust you for fun is the big stack of money you're going to be paying me. I could be deadly."
"I like that." Renard leaned forward. "You have spirit, Faith."
"I'm mad, remember?"
Again his laughter rumbled out. "My clan is a widespread one of tight-knit packs, Slayer, ruled by one of the oldest living Masters. Perhaps due to this we have never spread out of Europe and the Old World, but times are changing and the heart of the modern world is not in Paris, London of Rome. It is in this pulsing, crude, vibrant continent , this place called America."
She sat up slowly, interest caught at last. "They sent you out here, didn't they? Like one of the Founding Fathers or something." Fuck if he wasn't a stiff, self-important prick. With a ramrod up his ass to boot.
"You learn quickly. There is a Hellmouth in a small town two hours from this 'City of Angels' but to choose that as a first settlement would be foolish since there are bound to be numerous packs there, not to mention a very adept Slayer." He watched her for her reaction, and Faith had to admit that this guy's sources were good, whoever they were.
Not good enough, though.
We need LA, Renard was saying. And that means getting rid of Angelus.
There was a silence as she thought it over, weighing the pros and cons. It wont be easy. Angelus is stubborn; he wont lie down and stay dead.
You came very close to it once, Faith, and you failed not because of any fault of yours. Angelus had his lovesick Slayer on his side and there was no one on yours. His voice was very low now, very soft. Its always the same, isnt it, Faith? Youre always left to fight alone.
Glittering black eyes glared at him but she didnt speak.
This time you wont, thats a promise Ill make to you. Part of the deal. Youll find me and mine there when you need us, and if you succeed you will be paid handsomely. Think about it. Enough money to build yourself a life, to make you independent of anyone for a long, long time. Money to do what you will with. He stopped then, watching he turn it over in her head and half-seeing the images flash through her mind. Freedom, independence, security. Revenge.
When do I meet the others? she asked.
The shrill scream of the doorbell jerked him out of sleep and he blinked open a bleary eye. The bedside clock read 3.30 am.
Dragging on a pair of trousers and a shirt, Angel walked through the living room and got into the lift as the bell jangled again impatiently. Mentally he ticked off all the emergencies and chaos-situations that would excuse Wesley or Cordelias leaning on his doorbell half an hour into his sleep. Whatever it was, it had better be bigger than a forgotten eyelash curler.
The bell screamed again, making him wince as he stepped out of the lift. Whoever it was didnt let up this time, though, and the ringing jangled around in his brain till he thought it would knock his eyeballs out.
Alright already! He took the few steps to the door, one hand massaging his temples as he yanked it open.
The girl on the doorstep looked up at him with shadowed black eyes.
Faith! The surprise took all other words out of his mind as he looked at her standing on his doorstep, hugging herself under her short denim jacket. How did you find me? She had been here once before, but then she had been brought in half unconscious and had fled by rooftop.
She held up a white flyer with Angel Investigations and what looked like an upside down ice-cream cone with a fly buzzing in an arc around it emblazoned across the top.
Angel stifled a groan. Cordelia had decided to take another adventurous foray into the dangerous world of marketing. Then the groan turned into a gasp as she jumped up and pressed her mouth to his, arms locking around his neck and legs clamping around his waist so he staggered backwards under her sudden weight.
Faith, whats going one?! Angel managed to get out after her tongue had explored his mouth very thoroughly. His hips hit the back of the sofa, stopping his retreat as she sucked and nipped on the skin of his jaw and neck. Faith!
She lifted her head, tossing her hair back, and caught his face in her hands. Angel, I want to do the wacky. Right now.
The look on his face might have made her laugh if she hadnt been deadly serious. In all his 250-plus years he had probably never been this blatantly propositioned. And according to the growing hardness pressed up under her bottom he was finding it extremely arousing.
But his soul made him ask out of concern. Are you alright?
After ten days without? No, not alright. She fumbled with the front of his knit shirt before she realised there were no buttons. With a small sound of desperation, she ripped it right down the front. Now. She licked down his chest. Here. Her mouth found one flat nipple and bit.
Breath rushed out of him in a gush and his arms wrapped around her back. Somehow he stumbled over to the door and kicked it shut. Her tongue found the sensitive recesses of his ear, making him growl as he carried her straight into the lift, dragging the door half shut between kisses and punching the down button; praying that his self-control held out till they made it to the bedroom.
Will she do it, this Slayer of yours? The pale, slender young man sitting with one leg hooked over the arm of the red chair asked. I dont like having to rely on a Slayer, turned to darkness or not.
Renard saw Raoul shift in surprise across the room, his golden eyes immediately betraying wary tension. Of course, having lived all his living and undead life in this cultural backwater he was quite the perfect little savage, but he was useful. He had a sort of crude intelligence and good survival instincts.
We dont believe in stifling the voices of our fledglings. He watched Raoul start at the crack of his voice across the soft music playing in the room and the faint clink of nails on champagne flutes. Unlike the structure of your packs here, we do not believe in treating our circle of chosen children as we treat the minions lurking outside. Our cubs enjoy certain freedoms and suffer punishments of a greater severity for wrongdoings. He held up his champagne flute, and the young fledgling, Doniel, returned the silent salute, pressing a hand over his heart and bowing his head.
You have not answered the question, Renard. Angeline closed the book she had been flipping desultorily through. Will your little girl be able to take down Angelus? When so many others have failed?
That little girl is a Slayer, dearest. Renards satisfaction was thick in his voice. She is the Second Slayer.
This time gasps rose from the six higher-echelon pack members in the room. Doniel uncurled gracefully, feet coming to rest on the floor as he leaned forward, game face receding. It cant be!
Whats a Second Slayer? Raoul was confused.
Only a prophecy which has concerned the scholars among us for years, Angeline pushed red curls behind one shell-like white ear. Since as long as any of us can remember there has never been 2 Slayers active at once. How did this come to pass?
Raoul knows all about it, dont you, Raoul? Renard said silkily. In the town of Sunnydale above the Hellmouth another Slayer has her territory marked out; the first Slayer of this generation as it were. Some time ago she died, but her Watched and her friends managed somehow to return her soul to her body. Another Slayer was activated due to this death, and was slain a short time later to be replaced by my little Faith. Thus she is the second of the second, fulfilling the prophecy.
Your Faith? Raoul said warily.
Faith. Doniel laughed. How deliciously ironic. Are you placing your Faith in her then, Renard?
As the prophecy says, young one, She shall put the Angelic One to rest.
Crystalline and clear, their laughter filled the room.
He stroked her flank as they lay together under the covers in his bed. Her sin was still flushed warmly, imparting some of its heat to his cool body as he held her and he could feel the scars on her that her calling had earned her.
It felt good to have her here with him, dispelling that loneliness that had been here ever since that stolen day with Buffy. Buffy; he realised he had hardly thought of her these past few weeks.
The dark-haired girl stirred slightly against him and he brushed his lips against the nape of her neck, wanting to dispel whatever dark spectre it was that haunted her dreams. She had constructed a shell of hardness on the outside to protect the hurt child within, then found that th walls had grown so thick she could not find a way out again. He felt tenderness for her in these moments, and it was good to know that she was here and she needed him unlike his stream of clients who, once helped, floated out of his life impersonally leaving smoke-trails of profuse thanks in their wake.
She turned in his arms to look up at him with eyes that were black pools in the dark. She stared at him with the intensity of someone trying to memorise every detail.
Youre not asleep, he said softly.
Her lashes flickered. No, I guess Im not.
The kiss negated the need for words.