![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jesterladyficChapter Eight:
Faith finally threatened to gag Andrew in the airport if he didn’t shut up about all the wonderful, touristy, Lord of the Rings things they could do in Wellington. Much to Faith’s dismay, it was only after Spike issued his own threats as well that Andrew finally did stop. Disgruntled, she stalked to a waiting taxi and slid inside with a flirtatious smile for the driver, who blushed, cheering her up instantly.
“So, Spike, what horrible event from your past we viewing this time?”
“No bloody idea,” he answered. “Been to Australia once a long time ago. Me and Dru were there for two months. Fed off of dockworkers, then Miss Edith told her it was time to go and we left. Never offended anyone I can think of and never tried to destroy the world once.”
“Good for you, Tiger,” Faith praised him sarcastically.
“So,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “I don’t know where to look for whoever’s trying to kill us this time.”
“Maybe they’ll send us a note,” Andrew suggested cheerfully. His window was open and he was busy breathing in all the New Zealand air.
“Right,” Spike said, unconvinced, and then leaned forward to speak to the driver, “Can you just take us to a hotel, please?” Andrew crowed triumphantly in Spike’s sensitive ear making him jump and swear.
“Pay up, Miss Know it All,” he demanded of Faith. “You said he’d never say please! Ha, Ha. I am more adept in Spike knowledge than you.”
“Don’t boast about it, kid,” Faith glared at him before digging into her pants pocket and pulling out a pile of crumbled bills, “I got better things to do than color-code the vamp’s personality flaws. And hey, I can still rearrange that annoying little face of yours.”
Spike idly wondered how she could fit anything into her pockets with the pants being so tight and all. Andrew chortled and actually caressed his newly-gotten money singing a little song over it.
“I got my money. I’ve got my money. Such pretty money.” Faith did start to hit him then, but Spike caught her arm.
“Cool it, Rogue, before I get tetchy about you trying to win money off my speaking habits.” She rolled her eyes at him but desisted from molesting Andrew.
“Your show, boss,” she answered in mock humility.
***
The three travelers rested that night and then met the next morning for breakfast, Spike surreptitiously slipping blood in his coffee mug.
“So what do we do?” asked Andrew, crunching loudly.
“Dunno. Suppose I could check out the local demon crowd.”
“Sure that’s wise, boss?”
“Either that or we go to Andrew’s tourist spots,” Spike told her. Andrew looked
up hopefully, Faith shuddered and a new voice chimed in,
“Wouldn’t recommend it. Not unless you want a real good tan to go with your not-so stunning outfit.” Their heads shot to the slightly glowing, dark haired woman now sitting at their table with them, looking longingly at the fruit on top. None of the other diners seemed to have noticed anything unusual.
“Who’re yo- Cordelia?” Faith said in shock before her hand moved to the knife she had hidden in her napkin. Cordelia waved her hand airily and Faith’s arm dropped limply to her side. She stared at Cordelia, nonplussed, who answered her.
“Hey there. Chill, Faith.”
“Aren’t you like the chick that’s in a coma?” Andrew asked nervously, awed by her
literally shining beauty.
“Yes, small-brained one, my body is in a coma. My spirit on the other hand is busy being a Higher Being, which frankly, is downright boring.”
“So what? You’re here trying to kill down time?” Spike asked, leaning back. Cordelia focused her attention on him.
“Spike. As a matter of fact, doofus, I’m here to help you.”
“Really? Well, you look quite fetching. Though, I have to say it was bloody
stupid chopping off all your hair.”
“Gee, thanks. Good thing your opinion doesn’t matter in the arena of hair care. Which reminds me, your own hair. What’s the point if you’re not all evil anymore?”
“Just rakish and manly is all, pet.” He smirked at her. Cordelia laughed an indulgent laugh.
“You think that if it makes you happy then.” Then more to herself, “Not that Angel’s hair is any better; note to self, talk to him about that.”
“Getting back to why you’re here,” Faith prompted.
“Oh right. We Higher Beings, so much on our minds. Anyway, last year with the
whole hijacking of my body thing, big red faces in the divine spaces, let me tell you. The Powers, as I keep telling them, are supposed to help people. This past while we’ve been dealing with internal issues. Now we’re ready to get back in business. I assume Badly Dressed Demon Guy did his vague mission act on you?”
“Yeah, saw him way back in China.” Cordelia was sidetracked for a moment.
“You know, of all the bad dressers I know, yourself included, Whistler’s the
worst. Even Xander and Doyle had a leg up on him.”
“You know for a supposedly Higher Being, you’re awfully flighty,” Faith informed Cordelia who glared back at Faith.
“Do you want me to put your head on backwards? Cause I can do that.” Her fingers started to twitch, but then she glanced over her shoulder. “Fine, I won’t. Satisfied?” Spike raised his eyebrow.
“Okay, we’ll get to the point. Just for Miss Recently Evil Herself. The Powers are here for me to give you the skinny on Buffy Quest 2004.” Andrew looked envious that he hadn’t thought of that title himself. “Then I get to wake up, touch things again and get my guy’s head out of his-”
“Unmentionables?” Spike supplied innocently.
“-And drag his ass out of Wolfram and Hart and back into the Hyperion where it belongs, with me.”
“How touching, Princess,” Spike said. “But I’d like my love story to have a happy ending too. So where’s Buffy?” Cordelia looked indignant.
“I’m not your fortune-teller, dumb ass. For one thing, I have much better fashion taste. And you can tell your little Slayer that I totally resent her Cordelia bait comment. That is so five years ago.”
“Do you know where she is or not?” Faith asked impatiently.
“Of course I know. But I can’t tell you.”
“Who has her then?” Andrew asked, still shy of this sharp tongued, powerful woman
sitting across from him. Cordelia opened her mouth as if to speak, but then looked over
her shoulder again in annoyance.
“All right already, I won’t tell them. Lay off. Sorry, guys, looks like that nut is for you to crack. She’s safe, okay? Now, my deal is to help you in the here and now. The guys you’re after, vampire cult. Not happy with Spike’s unconventional evil behavior, before and after the soul. The reason you’re here in the outer regions of the world and far away from any decent shoe stores is that they want you confused. They also don’t plan to show themselves, to make you all bothered and nervous waiting for them to strike.” Spike snorted, showing his opinion of that plan.
“Relax, Spike, tonight I’ll take you where they are and you can kill them all, okay? Good, see ya then.” And Cordelia snapped her fingers and disappeared.
“Neat little trick, that,” Spike said in envy.
“Why thank you,” she reappeared for a moment, “Comes with the whole Higher Power thing.”
***
“Stop squirming, you wuss.” Faith tightened her grip on Spike’s arm. “Aren’t you a little dead to be playing with sunlight?”
“Not my fault the silly bint decided to open the bloody curtains on my arm.”
“Poor Spike,” Andrew commiserated. “Burns are the worst. Once back in my evil days-“
“Andrew, I’ve had about enough of memory lane as I can stand for another
lifetime. Could we save the ‘when I was evil and burned’ story for later, yeah?”
“Okay, fine. Only cause you’re hurt.”
“Something good came out of it then,” Spike sighed.
“I don’t know, you’re awfully cute when you’re all banged up and wounded,” Faith
teased. Spike glared at her.
“Not up for emotionless flattery either, luv. Perhaps Miss Glow and Shine can get us through this next part quick, but this whole thing is really starting to get on my nerves.”
“All those bad poems bringing up bad memories, huh?” she asked in mock sympathy.
Spike gritted his teeth and finally burst out,
“Fine! Bloody well fine! You want to know about it, okay!” Spike pulled his arm away from Faith and braced himself against the bed. “Back when I was human I was in love with a bird called Cecily-now known,” he allowed himself a twist of a smile, “as Halfrek, the dead vengeance demon. Being the sappy sort, I wrote her a bit of poetry. It got read out loud at a party one night; Cecily heard it and gave me and it the bum’s rush. I fled into the night like a nancy-boy where Dru decided to make me into her shining knight. I was known as William the Bloody Awful Poet, but I assure you.” A yellow glint showed in his eyes. “After I was turned, people called me William the Bloody for very different reasons. So there, Rogue, you satisfied?”
“There are some areas to be filled,” she told him wickedly. “But it’ll do for now.” Andrew shivered in delight at the story. Faith rolled her eyes at him.
“Will nothing make him stop that?” she appealed to anyone, anything.
“I certainly don’t mind trying,” Cordelia said, popping up beside Faith. “Ready,
guys? The sun just set.”
“I know!” Spike snarled, hauling on his duster and feeling grouchy over more embarrassing disclosure of his past. Cordelia raised her perfectly shaped eyebrows.
“Who staked his ass?”
“Don’t mind, Blondie. He’s just trying to improve his Sire imitating and brooding skills,” Faith told her.
“I am not! I may be upset, but I’ll tell you straight out and not just sit there glowering at you from under my caveman-sized brow expecting you to know what bur’s under my saddle today.”
“He’s beautiful when he gets started,” Faith mentioned.
“Yes, he is,” Andrew agreed.
“Less talk, more action, peons!” Cordelia slapped her hands together and they were all whisked away, landing at the entrance to a run-down building in the middle of nowhere. “This Higher Power thing I could get used to,” she said with relish.
“Let’s just get on with the killing and mayhem,” Spike demanded. “And don’t call me your peon.”
“People with hearts of dried up walnuts sure do seem to have the touchiest feelings,” she commented to herself before leading the way inside.
“Now, people, listen. I can’t touch anything, so you’re on your own there, but I do have my kick-ass divine-ness.”
“Yeah, all hail Cordelia, let’s just do this,” Faith said.
To their surprise, the inside of the building was set up to look like the hall of
a feudal lord in medieval times. It was like traveling back through time and Andrew’s eyes almost popped out of his head trying to take it all in.
“Interesting decoration choices, quite fashionable even,” Cordelia said. “Say if you’ve been dead for five hundred years. Honestly, vamps know nothing about style.”
“Hey! My crypt was quite posh,” Spike protested.
“Yeah, I got the airborne view of it and believe me, the distance could’ve been farther.”
“Silly cow,” he muttered to himself. She glared at him, but before she could exercise her Higher Being wrath, lights flared in the hall as torches were lit and vampires flooded the room. They seated themselves at tables that lined the room before joining another table placed sideways across the other table’s ends to form a U-shape.
“My lords and ladies, we have guests,” the center form at the head table spoke. Only Spike and Cordelia could see her clearly. It was a tall vampiress, with ice-cold blue eyes and red hair that swept down her back in such a fashion as suggested it was too good for this life. Her slender form showed pale skin against the torchlight and the old-fashioned black dress she was wearing reminded Spike of something Drusilla would wear, only slinkier.
“My name is Janevra. In the name of our clan, we bid thee welcome.” Her voice was as cold as her eyes, crisp, clear and perfect, but lacking anything that demonstrated she was alive. “Before we begin, please, will not you sit?” Janevra gestured to seats beside her. Something in the back of Spike’s mind was shouting at him, telling him something, but he couldn’t think what it could mean so he ignored it for the time being.
“Boss, what happened to the hack and slash mayhem we had planned?” Faith whispered, disappointed. Up at the head table, Janevra’s lips curved into a smile completely lacking in humor.
“I assure thee, Slayer; the time for blood will come. This we promise.”
“Goody.” Faith was mollified. Spike, Faith and Andrew walked to places set for them. Cordelia preferred to hover behind them, showing off her new powers. As they were seated, Janevra raised her goblet in a toast.
“Members of the Court, we toast these who will not be with us long.” The vampires in the hall all raised their own goblets and drank deeply of virgin blood, Spike was sure of it.
“After we have supped, I shalt take thee to our chamber where we shalt discuss thy errand here,” Janevra promised them. “Thy appearance was unexpected so waiting is not unwarranted.” Faith made a face at having to wait. Cordelia also was impatient.
“You guys do the waiting thing. I’m gonna pop over to LA, visit Phantom Dennis, and check on Angel. I’ll be back for the big confrontation.” And she blinked out again. The vampires didn’t so much as blink.
“Don’t suppose you’ve got any buffalo wings or perhaps a flowering onion?” Spike questioned. “No? Didn’t think so.”
“A Hot pocket?” Andrew piped up. Janevra’s lips curled once more, this time with a slow disdain and she seemed to be filing their remarks away for future reference. But all she said was,
“We have done. Let us begin.” She led the way down the hall through large stone doors and into another vast hall, this one with a dais set at its far end with a raised seat upon it. Tapestries adorned the walls and there were no windows. Spike suspected, indeed he could almost smell the magic, that the building had been enspelled to look smaller on the outside than it actually was. Or the other way around.
Janevra walked to the dais and sat down on the chair, molding it to her form and enveloping it in her frozen nature. The vampires crowded into the room after them and sat in chairs that lined the walls. Spike, Faith, Andrew and suddenly, Cordelia, stood in the center of the hall before the dais.
“Thou hast been summoned here, though not at this exact time, William the Bloody, to stand trial for the betrayal of thy kind.”
“And what betrayal might that be?” he asked lazily.
“For throwing off the mantle of thy nature, befriending and treasuring that which is the enemy, for the killing of thy brethren and the despicable retrieval of that which had been blessedly taken from thee. More crimes thou hast committed, but these are enough.”
“You’ve been a busy boy, Blondie,” Faith complimented. Spike shrugged,
“I get bored easy. Legs cramp up.” He directed his next words to Janevra. “What bloody right do you have to pass sentence on me?”
“I am the Master of thy clan, William the Bloody,” she answered. “I am Janevra, childe of Carlon, childe of Tristan, childe of Nadine, childe of Donella, childe of the Master of the Clan of Aurelius.” Janevra stated her lineage proudly, but Spike inwardly scoffed, his was far grander. Then what had been nagging at him all night suddenly clicked in his brain. He laughed long and loud while everyone else stared at him.
“For someone who’s so big on vamp tradition, you sure haven’t studied your masters,” he chuckled. Janevra frowned, suddenly unsure.
“What dost thou mean?”
“I dost mean,” he spat at her. “That you are minion material compared to me." Spike seemed to grow taller, more commanding and kind of creepy. Even Cordelia was impressed. “For I am William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers, childe of Drusilla, childe of Angelus, childe of Darla, favorite childe of the Master of the Clan of Aurelius. The Master is dead and Darla is dust. I am the grandchilde of the true Master of the Clan of Aurelius. I am your Master and I order you by blood right, as mine’s a hell of a lot purer than yours, to stand down and give up any scraps of bad poetry you may be hanging onto.”
There was a pause and silence reigned in the hall. Then Andrew fainted.
Faith caught him and knelt over him as he lay, hitting his face. Spike stood unmoved, waiting for Janevra’s response. She struggled. Her lips opened, her eyes flashed fire, the first sign of life she’d yet shown. Then, reluctantly, stiffly, vastly different from her coldly, graceful movement of before, she stood from the chair and knelt before it, saying softly,
“Master.” Spike swaggered up to the dais and sat in its high seat, lounging. The vampires of the hall slowly stood up and one by one knelt before him.
***
It was several hours before they could leave. Spike had to spend them in conference with the leaders of this particular part of his clan, negotiating and establishing rules for his Mastery over them. Obviously, he wasn’t going to be staying with them, so he appointed Janevra to be his acting Regent. Basically the only thing that changed was the vampires were no longer allowed to kill them. But being vampires and tradition minded ones at that, it took them hours to sort that out. At long last the three travelers headed back to the hotel with their next clue firmly in hand.
***
Cordelia met them there; having winked out the minute negotiations had started, stating that they made her recall her vision headaches with real longing.
“So you guys are set to go then?” she asked.
“Yup, we got the goods right here,” Faith assured Cordelia.
“Good. Now I can leave and not see you anymore.” Spike shook his head.
“Get out of here, Cheerleader. Thanks for the reconnaissance, but go do your
glow-girl act somewhere else.”
“Since you’re missing Buffy, I’ll ignore that,” she said with marvelous grace. “Angel, here I come!” Cordelia hastily checked her appearance and then, snapping her fingers, disappeared. Andrew sighed after her, but he quickly snapped out of it.
“Good work, team! We beat the bad guy. Well, Spike did, and nobody got hurt!”
“Yeah,” agreed Faith gloomily.
“Nobody got hurt but Spike, who was playing peek-a-boo with Mr. Sunshine and
lost. Now we can find out where to go next.” Spike was too tired to get mad at Andrew, so he just wordlessly handed the nerd the paper. Andrew opened it eagerly and in his best theatrical voice read:
“ ‘Your dark beauty, she’s wicked; she drowns out the light;
Was unfaithful, ungrateful; chose Chaos all night.”
“Bloody hell,” Spike moaned and sank his head in his hands, “Is there anything this wanker doesn’t know?”
“What’s it mean?” Andrew asked.
“We’re going to Brazil and I have to relive having my heart broken in a thousand pieces.” Faith thought for a moment then remembered something.
“Dude! Willow’s in Brazil. Betcha she’d help.”
“Well, duh,” Andrew replied. “Buffy’s only her best friend!”
“Don’t push it, Andy,” Faith told him. “Buck up, boss. Willow could probably
find her. She’s all big with the mojo.”
“But wait.” If possible, Spike’s face turned even paler. “Is she still with Kennedy?”
The three of them stared at each other in horror. There weren’t words for that possibility.
Faith finally threatened to gag Andrew in the airport if he didn’t shut up about all the wonderful, touristy, Lord of the Rings things they could do in Wellington. Much to Faith’s dismay, it was only after Spike issued his own threats as well that Andrew finally did stop. Disgruntled, she stalked to a waiting taxi and slid inside with a flirtatious smile for the driver, who blushed, cheering her up instantly.
“So, Spike, what horrible event from your past we viewing this time?”
“No bloody idea,” he answered. “Been to Australia once a long time ago. Me and Dru were there for two months. Fed off of dockworkers, then Miss Edith told her it was time to go and we left. Never offended anyone I can think of and never tried to destroy the world once.”
“Good for you, Tiger,” Faith praised him sarcastically.
“So,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “I don’t know where to look for whoever’s trying to kill us this time.”
“Maybe they’ll send us a note,” Andrew suggested cheerfully. His window was open and he was busy breathing in all the New Zealand air.
“Right,” Spike said, unconvinced, and then leaned forward to speak to the driver, “Can you just take us to a hotel, please?” Andrew crowed triumphantly in Spike’s sensitive ear making him jump and swear.
“Pay up, Miss Know it All,” he demanded of Faith. “You said he’d never say please! Ha, Ha. I am more adept in Spike knowledge than you.”
“Don’t boast about it, kid,” Faith glared at him before digging into her pants pocket and pulling out a pile of crumbled bills, “I got better things to do than color-code the vamp’s personality flaws. And hey, I can still rearrange that annoying little face of yours.”
Spike idly wondered how she could fit anything into her pockets with the pants being so tight and all. Andrew chortled and actually caressed his newly-gotten money singing a little song over it.
“I got my money. I’ve got my money. Such pretty money.” Faith did start to hit him then, but Spike caught her arm.
“Cool it, Rogue, before I get tetchy about you trying to win money off my speaking habits.” She rolled her eyes at him but desisted from molesting Andrew.
“Your show, boss,” she answered in mock humility.
***
The three travelers rested that night and then met the next morning for breakfast, Spike surreptitiously slipping blood in his coffee mug.
“So what do we do?” asked Andrew, crunching loudly.
“Dunno. Suppose I could check out the local demon crowd.”
“Sure that’s wise, boss?”
“Either that or we go to Andrew’s tourist spots,” Spike told her. Andrew looked
up hopefully, Faith shuddered and a new voice chimed in,
“Wouldn’t recommend it. Not unless you want a real good tan to go with your not-so stunning outfit.” Their heads shot to the slightly glowing, dark haired woman now sitting at their table with them, looking longingly at the fruit on top. None of the other diners seemed to have noticed anything unusual.
“Who’re yo- Cordelia?” Faith said in shock before her hand moved to the knife she had hidden in her napkin. Cordelia waved her hand airily and Faith’s arm dropped limply to her side. She stared at Cordelia, nonplussed, who answered her.
“Hey there. Chill, Faith.”
“Aren’t you like the chick that’s in a coma?” Andrew asked nervously, awed by her
literally shining beauty.
“Yes, small-brained one, my body is in a coma. My spirit on the other hand is busy being a Higher Being, which frankly, is downright boring.”
“So what? You’re here trying to kill down time?” Spike asked, leaning back. Cordelia focused her attention on him.
“Spike. As a matter of fact, doofus, I’m here to help you.”
“Really? Well, you look quite fetching. Though, I have to say it was bloody
stupid chopping off all your hair.”
“Gee, thanks. Good thing your opinion doesn’t matter in the arena of hair care. Which reminds me, your own hair. What’s the point if you’re not all evil anymore?”
“Just rakish and manly is all, pet.” He smirked at her. Cordelia laughed an indulgent laugh.
“You think that if it makes you happy then.” Then more to herself, “Not that Angel’s hair is any better; note to self, talk to him about that.”
“Getting back to why you’re here,” Faith prompted.
“Oh right. We Higher Beings, so much on our minds. Anyway, last year with the
whole hijacking of my body thing, big red faces in the divine spaces, let me tell you. The Powers, as I keep telling them, are supposed to help people. This past while we’ve been dealing with internal issues. Now we’re ready to get back in business. I assume Badly Dressed Demon Guy did his vague mission act on you?”
“Yeah, saw him way back in China.” Cordelia was sidetracked for a moment.
“You know, of all the bad dressers I know, yourself included, Whistler’s the
worst. Even Xander and Doyle had a leg up on him.”
“You know for a supposedly Higher Being, you’re awfully flighty,” Faith informed Cordelia who glared back at Faith.
“Do you want me to put your head on backwards? Cause I can do that.” Her fingers started to twitch, but then she glanced over her shoulder. “Fine, I won’t. Satisfied?” Spike raised his eyebrow.
“Okay, we’ll get to the point. Just for Miss Recently Evil Herself. The Powers are here for me to give you the skinny on Buffy Quest 2004.” Andrew looked envious that he hadn’t thought of that title himself. “Then I get to wake up, touch things again and get my guy’s head out of his-”
“Unmentionables?” Spike supplied innocently.
“-And drag his ass out of Wolfram and Hart and back into the Hyperion where it belongs, with me.”
“How touching, Princess,” Spike said. “But I’d like my love story to have a happy ending too. So where’s Buffy?” Cordelia looked indignant.
“I’m not your fortune-teller, dumb ass. For one thing, I have much better fashion taste. And you can tell your little Slayer that I totally resent her Cordelia bait comment. That is so five years ago.”
“Do you know where she is or not?” Faith asked impatiently.
“Of course I know. But I can’t tell you.”
“Who has her then?” Andrew asked, still shy of this sharp tongued, powerful woman
sitting across from him. Cordelia opened her mouth as if to speak, but then looked over
her shoulder again in annoyance.
“All right already, I won’t tell them. Lay off. Sorry, guys, looks like that nut is for you to crack. She’s safe, okay? Now, my deal is to help you in the here and now. The guys you’re after, vampire cult. Not happy with Spike’s unconventional evil behavior, before and after the soul. The reason you’re here in the outer regions of the world and far away from any decent shoe stores is that they want you confused. They also don’t plan to show themselves, to make you all bothered and nervous waiting for them to strike.” Spike snorted, showing his opinion of that plan.
“Relax, Spike, tonight I’ll take you where they are and you can kill them all, okay? Good, see ya then.” And Cordelia snapped her fingers and disappeared.
“Neat little trick, that,” Spike said in envy.
“Why thank you,” she reappeared for a moment, “Comes with the whole Higher Power thing.”
***
“Stop squirming, you wuss.” Faith tightened her grip on Spike’s arm. “Aren’t you a little dead to be playing with sunlight?”
“Not my fault the silly bint decided to open the bloody curtains on my arm.”
“Poor Spike,” Andrew commiserated. “Burns are the worst. Once back in my evil days-“
“Andrew, I’ve had about enough of memory lane as I can stand for another
lifetime. Could we save the ‘when I was evil and burned’ story for later, yeah?”
“Okay, fine. Only cause you’re hurt.”
“Something good came out of it then,” Spike sighed.
“I don’t know, you’re awfully cute when you’re all banged up and wounded,” Faith
teased. Spike glared at her.
“Not up for emotionless flattery either, luv. Perhaps Miss Glow and Shine can get us through this next part quick, but this whole thing is really starting to get on my nerves.”
“All those bad poems bringing up bad memories, huh?” she asked in mock sympathy.
Spike gritted his teeth and finally burst out,
“Fine! Bloody well fine! You want to know about it, okay!” Spike pulled his arm away from Faith and braced himself against the bed. “Back when I was human I was in love with a bird called Cecily-now known,” he allowed himself a twist of a smile, “as Halfrek, the dead vengeance demon. Being the sappy sort, I wrote her a bit of poetry. It got read out loud at a party one night; Cecily heard it and gave me and it the bum’s rush. I fled into the night like a nancy-boy where Dru decided to make me into her shining knight. I was known as William the Bloody Awful Poet, but I assure you.” A yellow glint showed in his eyes. “After I was turned, people called me William the Bloody for very different reasons. So there, Rogue, you satisfied?”
“There are some areas to be filled,” she told him wickedly. “But it’ll do for now.” Andrew shivered in delight at the story. Faith rolled her eyes at him.
“Will nothing make him stop that?” she appealed to anyone, anything.
“I certainly don’t mind trying,” Cordelia said, popping up beside Faith. “Ready,
guys? The sun just set.”
“I know!” Spike snarled, hauling on his duster and feeling grouchy over more embarrassing disclosure of his past. Cordelia raised her perfectly shaped eyebrows.
“Who staked his ass?”
“Don’t mind, Blondie. He’s just trying to improve his Sire imitating and brooding skills,” Faith told her.
“I am not! I may be upset, but I’ll tell you straight out and not just sit there glowering at you from under my caveman-sized brow expecting you to know what bur’s under my saddle today.”
“He’s beautiful when he gets started,” Faith mentioned.
“Yes, he is,” Andrew agreed.
“Less talk, more action, peons!” Cordelia slapped her hands together and they were all whisked away, landing at the entrance to a run-down building in the middle of nowhere. “This Higher Power thing I could get used to,” she said with relish.
“Let’s just get on with the killing and mayhem,” Spike demanded. “And don’t call me your peon.”
“People with hearts of dried up walnuts sure do seem to have the touchiest feelings,” she commented to herself before leading the way inside.
“Now, people, listen. I can’t touch anything, so you’re on your own there, but I do have my kick-ass divine-ness.”
“Yeah, all hail Cordelia, let’s just do this,” Faith said.
To their surprise, the inside of the building was set up to look like the hall of
a feudal lord in medieval times. It was like traveling back through time and Andrew’s eyes almost popped out of his head trying to take it all in.
“Interesting decoration choices, quite fashionable even,” Cordelia said. “Say if you’ve been dead for five hundred years. Honestly, vamps know nothing about style.”
“Hey! My crypt was quite posh,” Spike protested.
“Yeah, I got the airborne view of it and believe me, the distance could’ve been farther.”
“Silly cow,” he muttered to himself. She glared at him, but before she could exercise her Higher Being wrath, lights flared in the hall as torches were lit and vampires flooded the room. They seated themselves at tables that lined the room before joining another table placed sideways across the other table’s ends to form a U-shape.
“My lords and ladies, we have guests,” the center form at the head table spoke. Only Spike and Cordelia could see her clearly. It was a tall vampiress, with ice-cold blue eyes and red hair that swept down her back in such a fashion as suggested it was too good for this life. Her slender form showed pale skin against the torchlight and the old-fashioned black dress she was wearing reminded Spike of something Drusilla would wear, only slinkier.
“My name is Janevra. In the name of our clan, we bid thee welcome.” Her voice was as cold as her eyes, crisp, clear and perfect, but lacking anything that demonstrated she was alive. “Before we begin, please, will not you sit?” Janevra gestured to seats beside her. Something in the back of Spike’s mind was shouting at him, telling him something, but he couldn’t think what it could mean so he ignored it for the time being.
“Boss, what happened to the hack and slash mayhem we had planned?” Faith whispered, disappointed. Up at the head table, Janevra’s lips curved into a smile completely lacking in humor.
“I assure thee, Slayer; the time for blood will come. This we promise.”
“Goody.” Faith was mollified. Spike, Faith and Andrew walked to places set for them. Cordelia preferred to hover behind them, showing off her new powers. As they were seated, Janevra raised her goblet in a toast.
“Members of the Court, we toast these who will not be with us long.” The vampires in the hall all raised their own goblets and drank deeply of virgin blood, Spike was sure of it.
“After we have supped, I shalt take thee to our chamber where we shalt discuss thy errand here,” Janevra promised them. “Thy appearance was unexpected so waiting is not unwarranted.” Faith made a face at having to wait. Cordelia also was impatient.
“You guys do the waiting thing. I’m gonna pop over to LA, visit Phantom Dennis, and check on Angel. I’ll be back for the big confrontation.” And she blinked out again. The vampires didn’t so much as blink.
“Don’t suppose you’ve got any buffalo wings or perhaps a flowering onion?” Spike questioned. “No? Didn’t think so.”
“A Hot pocket?” Andrew piped up. Janevra’s lips curled once more, this time with a slow disdain and she seemed to be filing their remarks away for future reference. But all she said was,
“We have done. Let us begin.” She led the way down the hall through large stone doors and into another vast hall, this one with a dais set at its far end with a raised seat upon it. Tapestries adorned the walls and there were no windows. Spike suspected, indeed he could almost smell the magic, that the building had been enspelled to look smaller on the outside than it actually was. Or the other way around.
Janevra walked to the dais and sat down on the chair, molding it to her form and enveloping it in her frozen nature. The vampires crowded into the room after them and sat in chairs that lined the walls. Spike, Faith, Andrew and suddenly, Cordelia, stood in the center of the hall before the dais.
“Thou hast been summoned here, though not at this exact time, William the Bloody, to stand trial for the betrayal of thy kind.”
“And what betrayal might that be?” he asked lazily.
“For throwing off the mantle of thy nature, befriending and treasuring that which is the enemy, for the killing of thy brethren and the despicable retrieval of that which had been blessedly taken from thee. More crimes thou hast committed, but these are enough.”
“You’ve been a busy boy, Blondie,” Faith complimented. Spike shrugged,
“I get bored easy. Legs cramp up.” He directed his next words to Janevra. “What bloody right do you have to pass sentence on me?”
“I am the Master of thy clan, William the Bloody,” she answered. “I am Janevra, childe of Carlon, childe of Tristan, childe of Nadine, childe of Donella, childe of the Master of the Clan of Aurelius.” Janevra stated her lineage proudly, but Spike inwardly scoffed, his was far grander. Then what had been nagging at him all night suddenly clicked in his brain. He laughed long and loud while everyone else stared at him.
“For someone who’s so big on vamp tradition, you sure haven’t studied your masters,” he chuckled. Janevra frowned, suddenly unsure.
“What dost thou mean?”
“I dost mean,” he spat at her. “That you are minion material compared to me." Spike seemed to grow taller, more commanding and kind of creepy. Even Cordelia was impressed. “For I am William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers, childe of Drusilla, childe of Angelus, childe of Darla, favorite childe of the Master of the Clan of Aurelius. The Master is dead and Darla is dust. I am the grandchilde of the true Master of the Clan of Aurelius. I am your Master and I order you by blood right, as mine’s a hell of a lot purer than yours, to stand down and give up any scraps of bad poetry you may be hanging onto.”
There was a pause and silence reigned in the hall. Then Andrew fainted.
Faith caught him and knelt over him as he lay, hitting his face. Spike stood unmoved, waiting for Janevra’s response. She struggled. Her lips opened, her eyes flashed fire, the first sign of life she’d yet shown. Then, reluctantly, stiffly, vastly different from her coldly, graceful movement of before, she stood from the chair and knelt before it, saying softly,
“Master.” Spike swaggered up to the dais and sat in its high seat, lounging. The vampires of the hall slowly stood up and one by one knelt before him.
***
It was several hours before they could leave. Spike had to spend them in conference with the leaders of this particular part of his clan, negotiating and establishing rules for his Mastery over them. Obviously, he wasn’t going to be staying with them, so he appointed Janevra to be his acting Regent. Basically the only thing that changed was the vampires were no longer allowed to kill them. But being vampires and tradition minded ones at that, it took them hours to sort that out. At long last the three travelers headed back to the hotel with their next clue firmly in hand.
***
Cordelia met them there; having winked out the minute negotiations had started, stating that they made her recall her vision headaches with real longing.
“So you guys are set to go then?” she asked.
“Yup, we got the goods right here,” Faith assured Cordelia.
“Good. Now I can leave and not see you anymore.” Spike shook his head.
“Get out of here, Cheerleader. Thanks for the reconnaissance, but go do your
glow-girl act somewhere else.”
“Since you’re missing Buffy, I’ll ignore that,” she said with marvelous grace. “Angel, here I come!” Cordelia hastily checked her appearance and then, snapping her fingers, disappeared. Andrew sighed after her, but he quickly snapped out of it.
“Good work, team! We beat the bad guy. Well, Spike did, and nobody got hurt!”
“Yeah,” agreed Faith gloomily.
“Nobody got hurt but Spike, who was playing peek-a-boo with Mr. Sunshine and
lost. Now we can find out where to go next.” Spike was too tired to get mad at Andrew, so he just wordlessly handed the nerd the paper. Andrew opened it eagerly and in his best theatrical voice read:
“ ‘Your dark beauty, she’s wicked; she drowns out the light;
Was unfaithful, ungrateful; chose Chaos all night.”
“Bloody hell,” Spike moaned and sank his head in his hands, “Is there anything this wanker doesn’t know?”
“What’s it mean?” Andrew asked.
“We’re going to Brazil and I have to relive having my heart broken in a thousand pieces.” Faith thought for a moment then remembered something.
“Dude! Willow’s in Brazil. Betcha she’d help.”
“Well, duh,” Andrew replied. “Buffy’s only her best friend!”
“Don’t push it, Andy,” Faith told him. “Buck up, boss. Willow could probably
find her. She’s all big with the mojo.”
“But wait.” If possible, Spike’s face turned even paler. “Is she still with Kennedy?”
The three of them stared at each other in horror. There weren’t words for that possibility.
