Hitting the ground solidly, Giles felt a tremendous weight on his body. Struggling to no avail, he turned his head. Peering down at him, breathing a horrid stench, was a savagely black and contorted face. It’s eyes burned red as a fiery pit, it’s teeth dripped and glistened with saliva. The Watcher felt thick, steely claws dig into his tweed coated arms. Fighting faintly, he tried to get out from under the beast.

But he was pinned down solid. "Angel!" he choked out, a strangled gasp catching in his throat.

Clawed hands slammed down on the creatures shoulders. Giles could see the tense muscles straining as the fingers pulled. Wincing from the pain, frantically turning his head from the dark creature, Giles muttered a silent prayer.

Finally, Angel was able to lift; the strain on his vamped out face was stark as the moon. He pulled the monstrosity up, lifting slowly but surely. Giles felt the creature release it’s grip, as it turned, snarling, at Angel.

"What the hell…?" Angel muttered, seeing the black hunched over form. But then it lunged at him. He slammed a fist forward, connecting with the monster’s stomach. It swiped it’s claw out, knocking him to the ground. Suddenly, Kathryne leaped into the fight, stunning the monster with a roundhouse kick Buffy would have been proud of. As Giles watched, the young *old* woman beat into the creature, sending sharp jabs and punches into it’s gut. To his surprise, the beast didn’t fight back.

Grabbing the creature’s head, Kathryne jerked it down. At the same time, she rammed her knee upwards, connecting squarely with it’s jaw. It’s mouth slammed shut, fangs cutting into it’s lips. The monster fell back, stunned. Wiping her chin with a shirt sleeve, Kathryne spit on the ground.

"Get out of here, mutant. You have no place fighting me… and you can tell that fuck of a master that I said so."

Looking at her, it’s lips drizzling dark blood, the creature turned rapidly and disappeared into the shadows. Kathryne gazed at the Watcher, her eyes clear. She brushed a lock of hair that had escaped the ponytail out of her eyes. "I suggest we adjourn to another location, people." Offering Giles a hand, she pulled him of fthe ground. As he brushed the dirt and grass from his slacks, she smirked.

"Graveyards just aren’t a healthy place to hang out."

Shaking his head to clear it, Giles pressed a hand to the cuts on his arm. "What exactly was that, that creature?" He started to walk in the direction of the school, and the other two quickly followed.

Pulling a flannel scarf from her pocket, Kathryne handed it to Giles. As he walked, he bound his cuts tightly. *Remember the antiseptic when you get to the library.*

"Servants of the vampire Robius. The one who is hunting me." Kathryne stared straight ahead, her eyes seeming to pierce the still of the night.

"But what exactly are they? I am not sure I understand…" The Watcher’s fingers itched for a text, something to make all of this real. Complete.

"From what I have been told, he has bee playing with strains of demons, creating a line of mutants that serve only him, obey only him, live only for him." Turning her head, she looked at Giles. "Now they hunt me."

Silence. Giles mulled over the idea of a mixed demon strain. Theories of creating different fighting traits, musings on how one might purify a breed started filling his head. *The sheer creation that it must be… genius.*

"He wants your blood, doesn’t he?" Angel asked suddenly, quietly, throwing a sidelong glance at the girl.

"Why Angelus, how did you ever guess?" Kathryne laughed loudly into the night. "You see, Mr. Giles, what all this madness comes down to is my blood. That’s what it was two hundred years ago. That’s what it’s about now."

Staring at her dirt streaked hands, she grimaced. "My fucking blood."

Giles winced slightly at the anger in her voice. It was as if each word slid out steaming, broiling from the fury that lay behind it. "Um, well we can have Buffy slay this vampire-"

"Robius? Sure, she can try that." For a moment the only sounds were those of their feet hitting the pavement.

"I just am asking for protection. He wants my blood. If he gets it, he will become what is easily going to be the most powerful vampire in recent history."

*****

The leaves of the oak trees rustled softly, whispering to each other in a language of their own. The sounds of branches lightly scraping the side of the old brick building went with the slight breeze: smooth crescendo, lingering diminuendo.

As the beaten mutant trudged inside of the cavernous doors, it grunted, breaking the sonata of the late night outdoors. It moved inside, slamming the heavy double doors behind it. Speeding up, it hurried through clammy halls and corridors, ducking under fallen beams as it moved underground.

Approaching a stone slab of an entrance, the mutant grunted loudly, a succession of random sounds. There was a pause… then the block swung open. In moved the mutant, it’s clawed feet passing from the stone floor to carpet of the richest burgundy. It’s red eyes gleamed in the light of a thousand rose colored candles sparkling in the high ceilinged chamber.

As it passed a group of mutants, moving back and forth silently in the flickering candlelight, the mutant slowed.

"Ahh, so you have returned home," a gossamer voice sang out. "My poor dear, you have been soundly beaten. And no insolent girl to boot." A thin, clawed hand stroked the black face.

"Don’t worry, she’ll be here. She won’t be able to stay away from me."

Pink silky lips parted, and a long tongue slid out, slicking them gently. His voice rung out louder, more commanding, as the vampire rose from his chair.

"And then, children, we shall all feast."

The wax of the candles pooled, growing a darker red, the color of blood, at the base.