Author's Note: For this story to fit in with the Seventh Son storyline I have constructed, it must be assumed that 'Angel' started about a month and a half before it actually did. The character Gabriel Giles was introduced in a previous BtVS story I wrote entitled 'Divergent Paths'. (Buffy Sec)

Feedback: Of course! It would be much appreciated.

Gabriel Giles sat quietly in his hotel room, studying a detailed map
of the city of Prague. He had only been off the plane for three hours
and already he had committed the map to memory. As his father's
seventh son, who was, in turn a seventh son himself, he was gifted
with powers beyond the human norm, not the least of which was an
uncanny adaptability. Given enough time and exposure, he could
theoretically learn almost any skill he needed to.

For as long as Gabriel could remember, he had been absorbing every
skill he could find time for, from wilderness survival to martial
arts, training for some unknown destiny that only his father seemed
to know about.

When he had just turned thirteen, his father, Peter, had taken him
aside and told him that for the next six years, Gabriel was to live
for one year with each of his six uncles. Gabriel had known that
something had been wrong. One of the things that made the Seventh Son
special was the fact that he could often sense things that were a
mystery to others. His father called it the Second Sight, an ability
that was known to occur in other types of people in various forms.
Peter wouldn't explain why he was being sent away and Gabriel had
already learned early on that the man did not like to be pressed.
During the next two years, he was left with little time to
contemplate, as his training became even more intensive and his
eldest two uncles each concentrated on exposing him to the particular
culture in which he lived.

Life had not been so bad, though. He was with family most of the
time, his six older brothers taking turns visiting him from time to
time. He got along with all of them to varying degrees, but none were
as close to him as the oldest, Raphael. Aside from the twins, Raguel
and Sarial, the eldest and youngest of Peter's sons were the only
ones who shared a mother. Raphael had been spending a lot of time
with Gabriel since he had come of age, most recently at his uncle's
home in Sudan, and, although there were more than four years between
them, the two got along amazingly well.

Gabriel admired his oldest brother greatly. Raphael always seemed to
be there with a watchful eye or a word of encouragement whenever he
needed it. Even in the first days of his training, when Peter had
left him and he had felt most alone, Raphael had been there.

Gabriel was fifteen now and had not seen his father in almost two
years. Until yesterday, that is. Peter had arrived at his brother
Marcus's estate in Sudan and immediately loaded both Gabriel and
Raphael onto a plane bound for Czechoslovakia. He knew why his father
had brought them here, even though he hadn't been told. For years,
he'd had the distinct impression that his father was readying him for
something. He was here to be tested, he knew, but against what, he
could only imagine.

The hotel room door opened swiftly and his father walked briskly in,
brushing a fine dusting of snow off the shoulders of his long
overcoat. Behind him, Raphael strolled along casually, with his hands
buried in his jacket pockets and smiling faintly, content to let the
snow melt on its own into his hair.

"Did your business meeting go well, Father?" Gabriel folded the map
up and replaced it in the drawer of the nightstand.

"Perfectly." The man answered, looking to his fine gold watch, "And
more quickly than I expected."

Gabriel smirked. It had been strange getting reacquainted with the
man over the last twenty four hours. His strong british accent
sounded comfortingly familiar after spending the last year in Sudan.
His own accent was very different, he had been told, sounding like a
faint, exotic blend of many different inflections.

Raphael's was like that, too, although his was even more diluted
beyond recognition. The black-haired young man stifled a yawn and
slumped into a nearby chair, gazing out the window with deep blue
eyes. He took after their mother's side, Gabriel assumed, seeing
little resemblance between himself and his brother. Raphael's
coloring was different and his body was thicker and more solid.

Gabriel himself resembled their father greatly, sharing the same
auburn hair and vibrant green eyes, although Gabriel's were marked
with a halo of gold. They were of similar build, the father being a
few scant inches taller than the son and a little slimmer in the
shoulders. Gabriel had never known who his mother was, but there was
never any doubt of his father's identity.

"So, that's it?" Gabriel asked, reaching for his suitcase, "We're
leaving already?"

"Actually, no." Peter reached over and took the suitcase from him,
placing it back on the bed. "Something has come up and we'll be
staying for a few more days. I assume that's not a problem for you."

"No!" Gabriel insisted, "No, not at all. So what's up?"

"What's up?" Peter arched a dubious eyebrow, "Wherever did you learn
that from?"

"I made a few new friends at Uncle Marcus's." Gabriel shrugged, "I
guess I picked it up from them."

"The reason you were sent to Sudan was to train," Peter reminded him
harshly, "not to go wasting your time with the local . . . children."

"Take it easy, Dad." Raphael shook his head from his seat by the
window, "Gabriel's doing fine. He can outfight me most of the time
now."

"He should be able to beat you ALL of the time." The auburn-haired
man shot his oldest son an angry glance, "You're supposed to be
watching out for him, Raphael, not letting him carouse with
hooligans."

Raphael, unconcerned by his father's dark mood, rolled his eyes
tiredly and went back to staring out the window.

"I-I'm sorry, Father." Gabriel's eyes dropped to the floor in
shame, "I'll try harder, I promise."

"Well, you're going to have to." Peter said unsympathetically, "I
assume you are both aware of the recent development with your uncle
Rupert?"

"You mean the new Slayer?" Gabriel was excited at the news, "It's
true, then? He really is a Watcher?"

"Yes." His father answered sourly, "This new Slayer is gaining quite
a reputation with the Watcher's Council. But you're better than she
is."

"But she's the Slayer." Gabriel hedged uncertainly, "Her coming has
been foretold."

"And you are the Seventh Son of a Seventh Son!" Peter snapped
angrily, "There is more potential within you than ANY Slayer! All you
have to do is prove it to them."

Gabriel shrank back from his father's vehemence, looking worriedly to
Raphael. The older boy sat up but remained silent, giving Gabriel a
slight reassuring nod.

"How?" the auburn-haired youth asked his father quietly.

"There is word of a plague of vampires in the city, lead by a pair so
evil that the others obey them unquestioningly." Peter's voice grew
grave with deadly calm, "But you can stop them. You can protect the
people of this city."

Peter's anger seemed to have passed as quickly as it had come. Stress
often brought out a harsh side of him, Gabriel remembered, and he
wondered what could be trying at his father's patience. "Just tell me
what to do." Gabriel stood, eager to make the man proud.

The older man smiled at his Seventh Son's exuberance.

"His name is William the Bloody, called Spike by some due to his
fondness for using railway spikes as a means of torture." He
explained, "He is a ruthless killer. The Watchers have already lost
two of their Slayers trying to destroy him and his insane vampire
lover. The old goats will choke on their crumpets when they hear that
you've exterminated both of them in one fell swoop."

"Hold on." Raphael re-entered the conversation, "Don't you think
that's a little dangerous? He's only a boy."

"No, it's all right, Raphael. I'm not a boy anymore." Gabriel
informed his brother, a pit of nervousness turning in his stomach. He
had never faced a vampire before. How was he supposed to succeed
where two seasoned Slayers had already failed? "When will I get my
chance?"

"Soon." Peter clapped his hand across the boy's shoulder, "I think we
can get the two of you into action tonight if you feel you're ready.
What do you think?"

"Yeah, I'll be ready." He answered, his heart thumping like a
jackhammer in his chest, "I'll be ready."

* * *

The bleach-blonde haired vampire reclined sideways in a large, stiff-
backed chair, sifting idly through a small box of expensive gold
rings. His lover, another vampire, sat on the floor at the foot of
the chair, absently ripping a hole in the rich carpeting with a long,
sharp talon. Her deep, mysterious eyes were wide and vacant, like
they often were, focused on another world entirely.

"You know what, Pet?" the male vampire asked in a distinct British
accent, "I think I'm getting tired of gold. Maybe we should get the
boys to start stealing something else for a change."

He carelessly dropped the box of rings to the floor, scattering them
all over. A spindly vampire lackey fell to his knees and scrambled to
gather them up. The blonde vampire paid the scurrying servant no
heed.

"Dru?" he peered over the edge of his chair at her, "Are you
listening to me?"

"There's something terrible on the horizon, Spike." She
muttered, "Like an angry storm. It's dangerous, Spike. It wants to
hurt us."

"Relax, Pet. We have nothing to worry about." He assured her
confidently, "We OWN the nightlife here. No one can touch us. Not
even that dirty politician, Barstow. Not that he wouldn't love to get
his hands on us."

"This one is different, Spike." She insisted softly, "He SEES."

"Forget it, Luv." Spike wrapped a comforting arm around her
shoulders, "Now what can we do to get your mind off all this
nonsense?"

"I'm hungry, Spike." Drusilla sighed, slipping out of her agitated
state and rising slowly to her feet, "But I'm so bored with killing
here. I want something different. Something new."

Spike slipped his legs over the edge of the chair and stood next to
her, taking her in his arms.

"Something new, hmm?" he smirked, intrigued, "I think there's an
orphanage over on the east side. You can't get much newer than that."

"Oh, can we, Spike?" she bounced excitedly and clapped her hands
together, "And then maybe on the way home, we can stop at a pet store
for dessert? Please? I would so love a fluffy little kitten to play
with. I'm so excited. It's been so long since you've taken me on the
town, I'll have to wear my most beautiful dress."

"You do that, Luv." He smiled, pleased with her brightened
mood, "I'll be waiting right here."

Drusilla gleefully left the room and went to their bed chamber as
Spike watched her with pride. Considering his own attire, he decided
that he might dress up for the occasion as well. Maybe he'd wear that
new, black coat Dru had gotten for him. . .

* * *

Story Summary: Before coming to Sunnydale, Spike and Drusilla faced
off with a young Gabriel Giles in Prague, Czechoslovakia.

POOR MISS EDITH Part 1
WRITTEN BY: MICHAEL K. DONOVAN
Mike@v...

Classification: Action/Drama
Rating: PG
Distribution: Ask and ye shall receive
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all the characters that
appear on the show are the exclusive property of Joss Whedon, the WB
and Mutant Enemy, Inc.
Feedback: Of course! It would be much appreciated.

Author's note: The character of Gabriel Giles was introduced in a
previous BtVS story I wrote entitled "Divergent Paths".

* * *

Gabriel Giles sat quietly in his hotel room, studying a detailed map
of the city of Prague. He had only been off the plane for three hours
and already he had committed the map to memory. As his father's
seventh son, who was, in turn a seventh son himself, he was gifted
with powers beyond the human norm, not the least of which was an
uncanny adaptability. Given enough time and exposure, he could
theoretically learn almost any skill he needed to.

For as long as Gabriel could remember, he had been absorbing every
skill he could find time for, from wilderness survival to martial
arts, training for some unknown destiny that only his father seemed
to know about.

When he had just turned thirteen, his father, Peter, had taken him
aside and told him that for the next six years, Gabriel was to live
for one year with each of his six uncles. Gabriel had known that
something had been wrong. One of the things that made the Seventh Son
special was the fact that he could often sense things that were a
mystery to others. His father called it the Second Sight, an ability
that was known to occur in other types of people in various forms.
Peter wouldn't explain why he was being sent away and Gabriel had
already learned early on that the man did not like to be pressed.
During the next two years, he was left with little time to
contemplate, as his training became even more intensive and his
eldest two uncles each concentrated on exposing him to the particular
culture in which he lived.

Life had not been so bad, though. He was with family most of the
time, his six older brothers taking turns visiting him from time to
time. He got along with all of them to varying degrees, but none were
as close to him as the oldest, Raphael. Aside from the twins, Raguel
and Sarial, the eldest and youngest of Peter's sons were the only
ones who shared a mother. Raphael had been spending a lot of time
with Gabriel since he had come of age, most recently at his uncle's
home in Sudan, and, although there were more than four years between
them, the two got along amazingly well.

Gabriel admired his oldest brother greatly. Raphael always seemed to
be there with a watchful eye or a word of encouragement whenever he
needed it. Even in the first days of his training, when Peter had
left him and he had felt most alone, Raphael had been there.

Gabriel was fifteen now and had not seen his father in almost two
years. Until yesterday, that is. Peter had arrived at his brother
Marcus's estate in Sudan and immediately loaded both Gabriel and
Raphael onto a plane bound for Czechoslovakia. He knew why his father
had brought them here, even though he hadn't been told. For years,
he'd had the distinct impression that his father was readying him for
something. He was here to be tested, he knew, but against what, he
could only imagine.

The hotel room door opened swiftly and his father walked briskly in,
brushing a fine dusting of snow off the shoulders of his long
overcoat. Behind him, Raphael strolled along casually, with his hands
buried in his jacket pockets and smiling faintly, content to let the
snow melt on its own into his hair.

"Did your business meeting go well, Father?" Gabriel folded the map
up and replaced it in the drawer of the nightstand.

"Perfectly." The man answered, looking to his fine gold watch, "And
more quickly than I expected."

Gabriel smirked. It had been strange getting reacquainted with the
man over the last twenty four hours. His strong british accent
sounded comfortingly familiar after spending the last year in Sudan.
His own accent was very different, he had been told, sounding like a
faint, exotic blend of many different inflections.

Raphael's was like that, too, although his was even more diluted
beyond recognition. The black-haired young man stifled a yawn and
slumped into a nearby chair, gazing out the window with deep blue
eyes. He took after their mother's side, Gabriel assumed, seeing
little resemblance between himself and his brother. Raphael's
coloring was different and his body was thicker and more solid.

Gabriel himself resembled their father greatly, sharing the same
auburn hair and vibrant green eyes, although Gabriel's were marked
with a halo of gold. They were of similar build, the father being a
few scant inches taller than the son and a little slimmer in the
shoulders. Gabriel had never known who his mother was, but there was
never any doubt of his father's identity.

"So, that's it?" Gabriel asked, reaching for his suitcase, "We're
leaving already?"

"Actually, no." Peter reached over and took the suitcase from him,
placing it back on the bed. "Something has come up and we'll be
staying for a few more days. I assume that's not a problem for you."

"No!" Gabriel insisted, "No, not at all. So what's up?"

"What's up?" Peter arched a dubious eyebrow, "Wherever did you learn
that from?"

"I made a few new friends at Uncle Marcus's." Gabriel shrugged, "I
guess I picked it up from them."

"The reason you were sent to Sudan was to train," Peter reminded him
harshly, "not to go wasting your time with the local . . . children."

"Take it easy, Dad." Raphael shook his head from his seat by the
window, "Gabriel's doing fine. He can outfight me most of the time
now."

"He should be able to beat you ALL of the time." The auburn-haired
man shot his oldest son an angry glance, "You're supposed to be
watching out for him, Raphael, not letting him carouse with
hooligans."

Raphael, unconcerned by his father's dark mood, rolled his eyes
tiredly and went back to staring out the window.

"I-I'm sorry, Father." Gabriel's eyes dropped to the floor in
shame, "I'll try harder, I promise."

"Well, you're going to have to." Peter said unsympathetically, "I
assume you are both aware of the recent development with your uncle
Rupert?"

"You mean the new Slayer?" Gabriel was excited at the news, "It's
true, then? He really is a Watcher?"

"Yes." His father answered sourly, "This new Slayer is gaining quite
a reputation with the Watcher's Council. But you're better than she
is."

"But she's the Slayer." Gabriel hedged uncertainly, "Her coming has
been foretold."

"And you are the Seventh Son of a Seventh Son!" Peter snapped
angrily, "There is more potential within you than ANY Slayer! All you
have to do is prove it to them."

Gabriel shrank back from his father's vehemence, looking worriedly to
Raphael. The older boy sat up but remained silent, giving Gabriel a
slight reassuring nod.

"How?" the auburn-haired youth asked his father quietly.

"There is word of a plague of vampires in the city, lead by a pair so
evil that the others obey them unquestioningly." Peter's voice grew
grave with deadly calm, "But you can stop them. You can protect the
people of this city."

Peter's anger seemed to have passed as quickly as it had come. Stress
often brought out a harsh side of him, Gabriel remembered, and he
wondered what could be trying at his father's patience. "Just tell me
what to do." Gabriel stood, eager to make the man proud.

The older man smiled at his Seventh Son's exuberance.

"His name is William the Bloody, called Spike by some due to his
fondness for using railway spikes as a means of torture." He
explained, "He is a ruthless killer. The Watchers have already lost
two of their Slayers trying to destroy him and his insane vampire
lover. The old goats will choke on their crumpets when they hear that
you've exterminated both of them in one fell swoop."

"Hold on." Raphael re-entered the conversation, "Don't you think
that's a little dangerous? He's only a boy."

"No, it's all right, Raphael. I'm not a boy anymore." Gabriel
informed his brother, a pit of nervousness turning in his stomach. He
had never faced a vampire before. How was he supposed to succeed
where two seasoned Slayers had already failed? "When will I get my
chance?"

"Soon." Peter clapped his hand across the boy's shoulder, "I think we
can get the two of you into action tonight if you feel you're ready.
What do you think?"

"Yeah, I'll be ready." He answered, his heart thumping like a
jackhammer in his chest, "I'll be ready."

* * *

The bleach-blonde haired vampire reclined sideways in a large, stiff-
backed chair, sifting idly through a small box of expensive gold
rings. His lover, another vampire, sat on the floor at the foot of
the chair, absently ripping a hole in the rich carpeting with a long,
sharp talon. Her deep, mysterious eyes were wide and vacant, like
they often were, focused on another world entirely.

"You know what, Pet?" the male vampire asked in a distinct British
accent, "I think I'm getting tired of gold. Maybe we should get the
boys to start stealing something else for a change."

He carelessly dropped the box of rings to the floor, scattering them
all over. A spindly vampire lackey fell to his knees and scrambled to
gather them up. The blonde vampire paid the scurrying servant no
heed.

"Dru?" he peered over the edge of his chair at her, "Are you
listening to me?"

"There's something terrible on the horizon, Spike." She
muttered, "Like an angry storm. It's dangerous, Spike. It wants to
hurt us."

"Relax, Pet. We have nothing to worry about." He assured her
confidently, "We OWN the nightlife here. No one can touch us. Not
even that dirty politician, Barstow. Not that he wouldn't love to get
his hands on us."

"This one is different, Spike." She insisted softly, "He SEES."

"Forget it, Luv." Spike wrapped a comforting arm around her
shoulders, "Now what can we do to get your mind off all this
nonsense?"

"I'm hungry, Spike." Drusilla sighed, slipping out of her agitated
state and rising slowly to her feet, "But I'm so bored with killing
here. I want something different. Something new."

Spike slipped his legs over the edge of the chair and stood next to
her, taking her in his arms.

"Something new, hmm?" he smirked, intrigued, "I think there's an
orphanage over on the east side. You can't get much newer than that."

"Oh, can we, Spike?" she bounced excitedly and clapped her hands
together, "And then maybe on the way home, we can stop at a pet store
for dessert? Please? I would so love a fluffy little kitten to play
with. I'm so excited. It's been so long since you've taken me on the
town, I'll have to wear my most beautiful dress."

"You do that, Luv." He smiled, pleased with her brightened
mood, "I'll be waiting right here."

Drusilla gleefully left the room and went to their bed chamber as
Spike watched her with pride. Considering his own attire, he decided
that he might dress up for the occasion as well. Maybe he'd wear that
new, black coat Dru had gotten for him. . .

* * *

Gabriel gathered his long auburn hair into a stubby ponytail and tied
it at the base of his skull. Nervously, he paced back and forth
across the roof of the orphanage, waiting. It was one of the tallest
buildings around and afforded him a good view of the streets below.
Peter had expressly instructed him to stand on guard here with that
in mind.

His father had sent Raphael to the opposite end of the city, hoping
to cover as much ground as possible. Gabriel wished he would have let
them stay together. He always felt safer with his brother nearby.

Continuing to pace, he twisted his hands into the pockets of his
jacket, bracing himself against the bitter cold. He would have just
as soon gone out hunting them instead of waiting here, stagnating in
his own agitation like this. But his father had been insistent. Stay
on top of the orphanage.

Checking the bag that contained his weapons, an assortment of wooden
stakes and vials of holy water, one more time, he sat down on the
cold brick in a lotus position and sought to calm his mind. He had
fought creatures of darkness by himself before, but never vampires.
Closing his eyes, he mentally rehearsed the rules for fighting the
blood-drinking fiends.

A stake through the heart, immersion in holy water, decapitation,
exposure to sunlight. These were the means to kill a vampire, that he
was sure of. Defending against one, however, was far less
straightforward. Never let them get their teeth into you, that much
was obvious, but there were other factors to consider. Vampires
possessed enhanced strength and speed and, often, they tended to pick
up some proficiency with combat over the years. There was no real way
of telling what he might come up against.

A sharp sound, like that of a door creaking open, reached his ears
and, instantly, his eyes snapped open. Someone was moving around
inside. Crawling down onto the metal fire escape, he jiggled open a
window and slipped inside, touching down on the tiled floor. He eyed
the prominent sign which read "Enter Here" in Czechoslovakian with
disgust. An invitation, no matter what the source, was all a vampire
needed to gain access to the inside of a building.

He could hear voices in the next room and crept silently to peer
through the open doorway. Near the door, the dead body of the night
watchman stared blankly at him from a plain metal chair, his throat a
bloody mess. Gabriel recoiled, but forced himself to look past the
corpse and inside. There were four child-sized beds in the room, only
one of which had an occupant, and a homemade crib sitting in the
corner. Two figures, a man and a woman, both obvious vampires, stood
over the form of a small girl as she slumbered in her bed. Cautiously
crouching down, Gabriel strained to hear what the two were saying.

"This one is special, Spike. I can feel it." The dark haired woman
whispered, caressing the sleeping child's soft, curly hair. "And
look, she's got a little dollie that looks just like her! How sweet.
I'm going to eat them both."

"Go ahead, Luv. You take this one." Her companion encouraged her,
wiping the back of his hand across his blood-stained mouth, "I'm
feeling a bit full after that guard, but I suppose I could squeeze in
one more. As long as it's a small one."

Leaning over the railing of the crib, he reached inside. Gabriel knew
that he could wait no longer and leaped into the interior of the
room.

"Halt, Creature of Darkness!" he shouted, bracing his feet and
pointing at the male vampire with a sharpened wooden stake, "Your
reign of terror is over!"

The blonde vampire turned to him slowly and folded his arms across
his chest.

"Creature of Darkness?" he cocked an eyebrow skeptically, "Reign of
Terror? What do you think this is, a comic book?"

Drusilla stepped away from the sleeping girl, watching the auburn-
haired young man who had suddenly appeared in their midst with
amusement.

"Spike, look, it's my baby brother Joshua, come for a visit." She
marveled happily, her eyes focused on some other time and place, and
approached him with her arms held out, "Come give Big Sister a hug."

Gabriel shrank back from the vampire, unnerved by her obvious
madness.

"That's not Joshua." Spike shook his head softly, "Just some punk kid
looking to play hero. Kill him and let's be done with it."

"Oh, but you're wrong, Spike." She cooed, circling Gabriel
slowly, "Look at his eyes. He has the Second Sight. Only Joshua has
eyes like that."

"Joshua's been dead for a hundred years, Dru. He threw himself off a
bridge because he couldn't handle the visions, remember?" Spike
reminded her with strained patience, "Now go on and kill him or I'll
have to do it myself."

"Spike!" she scolded, swiftly clutching Gabriel in a steely grip and
holding him protectively to her breast, stroking her fingers
consolingly along the side of his head, "You'll frighten him. Joshua
is a very sensitive boy. He's like me, he sees things."

Gabriel gasped and struggled innefectually, trapped against her. She
had moved so swiftly, he hadn't even seen it coming.

"At least SOMEONE around here can see." Spike muttered, tapping his
temple and rolling his eyes.

Gabriel twisted out of Drusilla's grasp, grabbing her by the throat
and pressing the tip of the wooden stake against her chest. She
squeaked in surprise, eyes wide and her hands fluttering nervously in
the air.

"Dru!" Spike leaped toward the Seventh Son, faster than the boy would
have thought possible, and smashed a hard kick into his chest,
throwing him back and giving Drusilla a chance to escape.

Gabriel hit the floor and skidded across the hard tiles. He came up
against the wall and paused before rising, in mild shock from the
pain. He couldn't remember ever being hit so hard in his life.
Forcing air into his lungs, he pulled himself to his feet, springing
forward at Spike with his arms outstretched. Grabbing the vampire
tightly about the waist, he bore him into the opposite wall.

"Persistent little bugger aren't you?" Spike grunted, struggling to
get a grip on the young man.

Gabriel pushed upward with his legs and smashed the top of his head
into Spike's chin then cracked a hard punch into his jaw. The vampire
stumbled dizzily to the floor and Gabriel was upon him with a stake
drawn. Spike gripped the descending arm tightly, holding the sharp
tip of the stake away from his black heart.

"You can't beat me." He growled, "I've already killed two Slayers
who've tried. You're nothing but a boy."

"It will probably be pretty embarrassing when I kill you, then." The
young man grinned cockily, forcing the stake a little closer, "Say
goodnight - !"

Gabriel's world exploded in a flash of white as Drusilla brought the
stock of a heavy lamp down across the back of his head. His body
jerked and went limp, dazzling sparkles of light dancing before his
eyes as they rolled up in his sockets.

Spike roughly tossed him aside and climbed unsteadily to his feet.

"Thanks, Baby." He straightened his long, black overcoat and pulled
Drusilla into an appreciative kiss, "Punk just caught me off guard,
that's all."

Gabriel weakly pulled himself up and reached for the fire alarm,
hooking his fingers in the lever and letting his body weight pull
down on it. Instantly, a distant bell started clanging loudly.

"Damn it!" Spike drove his foot into Gabriel's stomach, doubling the
boy over and dropping him to the floor, "Come on, Dru. Grab the girl
and we'll go eat somewhere more private."

Spike tugged open the window and stepped onto the fire escape as
Drusilla approached the tiny girl and crouched, smiling sweetly at
her from eye level.

"Time to wake up, little one." She sang in a whispered voice, "Get
your pretty little dollie, Sweetheart. Auntie Dru is going to take
you on an adventure."

The little girl, accustomed to obeying grown-ups, hugged her
porcelain faced doll to her chest and allowed Drusilla to scoop her
up into her arms. Turning happily, the vampire headed for the open
window.

"No." Gabriel staggered dizzily to his feet and took hold of the
girl's dangling leg.

Drusilla tugged and twisted on her prize and the girl began to cry.
Gabriel's eyes blurred in and out of focus as he struggled to keep
his feet under him, but he would not release his grip.

"Let . . .her. . . go." He gritted his teeth and gave a strong pull,
bringing a sharp cry from the girl.

"Hurry up, Dru!" Spike urged from outside the window, "The damn
police are going to be here any minute! Drop the girl, we'll come
back for her later."

With a high pitched moan that was almost a wail, Drusilla released
her hold on the child and retreated to the window. Falling back,
Gabriel staggered, clutching the little girl protectively to his
chest.

"I'll come back for you, little one!" Drusilla promised desperately
as Spike dragged her outside, then turned her dark gaze murderously
to Gabriel, "And you too, baby brother, I will definitely come after
you."

Gabriel said nothing as the two vampires disappeared down the fire
escape, shivering with fright like the child he held in his arms.

* * *

"You let them escape!" Peter demanded furiously as he paced back and
forth agitatedly across the hotel room floor.

"I didn't really have a choice." Gabriel winced in his chair as he
adjusted the ice pack against the back of his skull. "I was lucky
enough to make it back here without passing out."

He and Raphael had returned to the hotel almost half an hour ago and
Gabriel's head was still splitting. Across from him, oblivious to the
argument, the little girl from the orphanage sat on Raphael's knee,
playing happily with her tiny, porcelain-faced doll.

"That's no excuse! I can't believe you let them get away." His father
reiterated, "And THIS!" he continued, pointing at the girl, "What
were you thinking when you brought her back here? This isn't a child
welfare office, you know."

"The woman, Drusilla, said she would be back for her." He sighed
heavily, in too much pain to be arguing so heatedly, "I wasn't about
to just leave her there."

"He's got a point, Dad." Raphael commented absently as he made a
series of silly faces to entertain the girl, "If he left her, she
would have been defenseless."

"All the better." Peter stated heartlessly, "With her there as bait,
you would have been sure they would return and we could have used the
opportunity to lay a trap. Remember, your main responsibility here is
to destroy those two vampires. Now how are you supposed to find them
again?"

"I will NOT use an innocent child as bait." Gabriel declared
defiantly, "If I have to wait ten years before I find them, I will
wait."

"Then consider this, Gabriel." Peter jabbed an accusatory finger
under his son's nose, "For every night that those two remain free, at
least two human lives will be lost. How many will die so that you can
believe that you have saved this child?"

Gabriel's face fell and, shoulders slumped, he sat back, defeated. As
much as he hated to admit it, his father's argument made sense
logically. Peter's face softened and he sat on the edge of the bed
next to his distraught son.

"It was a mistake, Gabriel," he offered in a soothing voice, "and
everyone makes mistakes. The trick is to learn from those mistakes so
that they are not wasted effort. All right?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Gabriel raised his eyes and smiled weakly, "I'll
do better next time, Father. I promise."

"I know you will." Peter smiled reassuringly, "Now you two keep an
eye on little whatever-her-name-is here. I have to run out for a
while."

"Edith." Gabriel nodded affirmatively as his father picked up his
overcoat and walked toward the door.

"What?" Peter turned a quizzical eye on him.

"The little girl's name." Gabriel clarified, "It's Edith. Strange
name for a girl from this region, isn't it?"

"Hmm, quite." Peter returned, opening the door and stepping into the
hallway.

Once inside his room, he withdrew a small cellular phone from inside
the pocket of his business suit. He dialed a quick series of numbers
and held it up to his ear.

"Yes. It's me." He said, hearing the other end pick up, "There's been
a small change in plans. I'll meet you in half an hour."

Folding up the phone and pulling on his coat, he headed quickly to
the nearest elevator.

* * *

The next evening, Gabriel sat on the window sill, staring out across
the artificially lit cityscape. Big cities were nothing new to him,
but he often enjoyed watching the particular silhouette of each
against the dying light of dusk using his special vision to see an
extra depth to the natural beauty of the scenery. The sun had gone
down an hour ago, but the city was as alive and bustling with
activity as if it were high noon.

"Gabrell! Gabrell! Look!" Edith called gleefully, holding her doll up
in the air and squeezing it.

He smiled kindly at her, enamoured with her bright, innocent smile.
There was something special about her, he could feel it. But then, it
could have been nothing more than the fact that he felt personally
responsible for her ever since he had saved her from the vampires.
Earlier in the day, he had purchased an ornate silver crucifix and
hung it from a chain around her tiny neck. As long as she wore it,
she would have far less to fear from psychotic vampires.

Edith clambered into his lap and looked out the window, emulating
him. He liked having her around, he realized. As the youngest of nine
children, he had never known what it was like to have a younger
sibling. He found that he rather liked the idea.

The bathroom door opened and Raphael stepped out amid a cloud of
steam, rubbing his dark hair with a white towel. He zipped up his
jeans and slipped a shirt over his shoulders, sitting barefoot on the
corner of the bed.

"She seems to have taken quite a shine to you, Gabriel." He noted
with a smile, tilting his head and jiggling the towel into his
ear, "Who knows, maybe she has an older sister who would like you
just as much."

"Funny, Raphael." Gabriel shook his head and smiled, setting his
shoulder length locks swinging softly to Edith's delight, "She's a
sweet girl. I wonder where her parents are?"

"They could be anywhere." Raphael shrugged, pulling on a pair of
socks and buttoning up his shirt, "She's probably just someone's
accident. Orphanages are filled with kids like that."

Gabriel gathered the girl's dark brown curls into his hands and
pulled them back away from her face.

"I don't think so, Raphael." He commented, smiling into the child's
pretty face, "There's something about her. I looked at her with the
Sight. I don't know what it is, but she's special."

"Maybe she's an angel in disguise." Raphael joked, hopping up and
reaching for the TV set.

The door to the hallway opened suddenly and Peter burst in
breathlessly.

"Father!" Gabriel slid Edith off his lap and jumped up in concern,
rushing to his side, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"The vampires. . . " the man panted, "They're attacking people in the
public park just north of here."

"Let's go." Raphael shoved his feet into his shoes and pulled on his
jacket, stepping quickly into the corridor.

Gabriel nodded in agreement and was halfway out the door when he
stopped dead in his tracks. "What about Edith? We can't just leave
her here."

"Well, we can't take her into battle." Raphael pointed out, "She'll
be safer here than with us. As long as the door is kept closed, no
vampire can enter."

Gabriel continued to hover in the doorway uncertainly, while his
father watched him impatiently.

"You're right." He decided swiftly, turning to Edith, "We'll be right
back, Edith. I promise."

The little girl waved, smiling as the three men exited and closed the
door behind them. Too impatient for the elevator, Gabriel took to the
stairs, bounding down entire flights at a time with Raphael close
behind. Peter hesitated for a moment by the door and turned the small
plastic sign that hung around the knob so that the 'please make up
the room' side was facing outward. Smirking deviously to himself, he
calmly pressed the down button and waited for the elevator.

* * *

"Nothing!" Gabriel stalked swiftly along the park's pathway for the
third time. "How could they have disappeared without a trace like
that?"

"Calm yourself." Peter advised, half running to keep up with the
driven young man, "The night is a vampire's domain. Hunting on your
prey's native territory is never easy."

"He's right, Gabriel." Raphael scanned the night carefully on his
side of the path, "Vampires don't usually stick around after a kill.
They're probably long gone by now."

Gabriel's face tightened stressfully. He remembered what his father
had said to him the night before about the consequences of not using
Edith as bait.

"You don't think they did, do you?" he whispered in horror, "Kill, I
mean?"

Raphael's face fell sadly and he looked to his father uncertainly.
Peter shook his head almost imperceptibly.

"No." Raphael lied, "I'd say they were just looking to spread a
little terror. Those people are probably locked up in their bedrooms
right now, scared stiff, but safe, at least."

Gabriel relaxed instantly, visibly calmed by the untruth. He sighed
and spread his hands helplessly.

"Let's get back to the hotel." He suggested, "Maybe we can use the
map and work out a search pattern."

"It's worth a shot." Raphael shrugged, awaiting his father's
decision.

Peter paused, considering the course of action and furtively checking
his watch.

"Alright then." He allowed, "Back to the hotel."

The three entered the hotel lobby twenty minutes later and walked
into the elevator. Gabriel was unusually quiet, folding his hands in
front of him and staring sullenly at the numbers above the double
doors as they slowly climbed to the eleventh floor.

"Come on, Gabriel." Raphael patted his brother reassuringly on the
shoulder as the elevator slowed and stopped and the three men walked
out into the corridor, "This isn't your fault. You'll get your shot
at them soon."

Gabriel angrily turned the knob to their suite and yanked the door
open.

"Yeah, well right now I'm O for . . . two." His eyes darted about the
empty room in panic. "Where's Edith? Edith!"

"How did they get in?" He demanded shrilly, ducking his head into the
bathroom while Peter inconspicuously slipped the sign off the door
and dropped it into the garbage can, "How were they able to just take
her like that?"

"Perhaps they came to the window." Peter suggested, "She is only a
small child. They may have deceived her into inviting them in."

"No." Gabriel shook his head in denial, "The window's still locked
from the inside."

"Here's something." Raphael held up his hand. Edith's crucifix hung
from his thumb and there was a small business card trapped between
two fingers.

"Let me see." Gabriel snatched both pendant and card from his hand.
The front of the card was emblazoned with the insignia of a well-
known stage theatre, one he recognized from the map he had studied
earlier. Flipping it over, he found writing on the back.

Bold, red letters were etched on the card with a stylish painted
script. 'JOSHUA', THE BRAT IS NOT DEAD. YET. MEET US AT THE ST. AGNES
CEMETERY. It was signed with a small drawing of a bloody railroad
spike at the bottom.

"They have her." He intoned softly, tucking the card into his
pocket, "I'm going after them."

"You can't seriously be thinking of following them?" Peter's eyebrows
stitched together in disbelief, "Surely it's a trap."

"No choice." Gabriel snatched up his kit bag and opened the door,
slipping Edith's pendant into his pocket, "I have to save her."

"Right." Raphael stuffed a handful of wooden stakes into his
pocket, "That's why I'm going with you."

Gabriel smiled appreciatively at his brother and the older boy winked
and smirked. Raphael squeezed past his brother and started down the
hallway.

"Gabriel . . ." Peter reached out with his hand and Gabriel stopped
in the doorway. His father looked at him and pursed his lips, ". . .
good luck."

Gabriel nodded quick acknowledgement, then dashed for the stairs
after Raphael.

* * *

Spike paced in agitation, his hands clenched tightly together. He
could faintly make out the sounds of people filing into the theatre
above their underground lair. Absently, he made a mental note to
snatch a couple of bleeders from the audience before the show was
over.

The orphan girl sat curled up fearfully in Spike's throne while
Drusilla crouched before her and attempted to entertain her with her
small porcelain-faced doll.

With a snarl of frustration, Spike swore viciously under his breath
and pounded his fist on the polished oak tabletop. Edith started at
the sound and began to whimper quietly to herself, clutching her tiny
doll tightly to her chest.

Drusilla touched her hands to the sides of the child's head, holding
Edith's eyes steadily and making a low, moaning sound in the back of
her throat, "Stop it."

Almost instantly, the child's dark eyes went wide and distant and she
became placid.

"There's something wrong with all this. I can feel it!" Spike growled
angrily, "First that hot shot punk shows up out of nowhere and
snatches our little orphan girl from the jaws of death. Then an
anonymous phone call tips us off to where they hid her. It doesn't
make sense. Why go through the trouble to save her, then give her
right back? Someone's screwing around with us."

"I see treachery and deceit." Drusilla agreed with him, her voice
soft and hollow and her eyes staring blankly into the distance, "The
leaves are talking to me from their branches again, Spike. They are
warning me."

"What is it, Pet?" he asked her, careful not to disturb her delicate
trance, "What are the . . .leaves telling you?"

"The boy and the girl are both special, but in different ways. He has
power, Spike, old power, but he is young, inexperienced. He stumbles
through the dark, lead by the hand of another." She winced, closing
her eyes and pressing her fingers to her temples. "And the girl, they
are afraid of her, afraid of what she might someday become. She is a
threat and they want her eliminated."

"Eliminated, huh?" Spike smirked, considering the small child, "Now
what would someone be so afraid of that he would need US to kill the
little snot for him?"

Drusilla snapped out of her fugue state and left the zombie-like
child in the chair, snuggling close to her lover.

"I've just had an idea, Luv." He grinned evilly, nuzzling his face
into her neck, "They want her dead? Then that's just what we'll give
them."

Drusilla smiled hungrily and walked with him toward the orphan girl,
her arm wrapped tightly around his waist.

* * *

Gabriel cautiously looked around as he entered the old St. Agnes
cemetery, careful not to let his boots make too much noise on the
crusty snow. Raphael was right beside him, employing similar care.
The air was chilly this late at night and fog blanketed the ground in
a thin concealing veil, but the full moon overhead lit up the
darkness. Gabriel started nervously as an owl hooted ominously and
took flight from a nearby tree. He noted that his brother was
watching and did his best to appear calm in front of the older boy.

Relax Gabriel, he cautioned himself silently, it's just a graveyard,
nothing to be worried about. It's no different than any other piece
of property.

Somehow, the reminder didn't really help.

Resting his hand on the reassuring length of wooden stake in his
jacket pocket, he approached a blocky stone mausoleum. It was very
old, built with ornate pillars and surrounded by a square perimeter
of three foot high metal fence.

"Why do these places always have to have at least one huge crypt?"
Raphael whispered condescendingly, "They might as well have just
built a vampire hotel."

Raphael jumped back, pulling a stake from his pocket, as he noticed a
shadowed figure reclining along a section of the wall, apparently
waiting for them. Gabriel mirrored his brother's readiness, holding
his own stake ready. It was the blonde vampire from last night at the
orphanage.

"Brought company, did you?" He said, pushing himself off the wall and
sauntering a few steps toward them, his voice overly loud in the
solemnity of the cemetery, "I was beginning to wonder if you were
going to show up at all."

The woman vampire emerged from behind him and strolled slowly to his
side, holding Edith over her shoulder like a mother with her baby.
The blood drained from Gabriel's face as he noted that Edith was not
moving.

"I have something for you, Joshua." Drusilla sang teasingly, jostling
the limp child in her arms.

Spike jerked on a length of the metal fence and tore off a long,
jagged piece, holding it in his hand like a sword.

"I've got something for you, too." He snickered darkly.

"Edith better still be alive, William." Gabriel glared at the blonde
vampire.

Spike shrugged and looked over at Drusilla, unconcerned, "She's fine.
Why don't you have a look for yourself."

Gabriel approached the woman vampire cautiously, wary of a trap.
Drusilla eased the small girl down onto her feet and turned her
around to face Gabriel. Edith's eyes were red and swollen from crying
and she clutched her tiny doll close to her body.

"Gabrel?" She whimpered quietly.

Gabriel crouched down and held out his arms.

"Come here, Edith." He urged calmly, "Raphael and I are going to take
you home now."

The girl hesitated fearfully for a moment then ran to him and threw
her arms around his neck. Gabriel lifted her up and backed away from
the two vampires, calm, but watching them with suspicion.

As Edith wept quietly and clung to Gabriel's neck, Raphael's face
tightened in a troubled frown. Why would a vampire kidnap a child
only to give her back without a fight? The evil creatures had nothing
to gain by such a move. Unless they wanted her to be rescued.

"Gabriel, drop the girl!" he cried, lunging to protect his brother.

Gabriel turned his head toward him in confusion as Edith's face
transformed into a vampiric mask and she drew a short knife out from
under the dress of her doll.

"Nooo!" Time slowed and Raphael reached out to stop her, too late.

Edith plunged the knife downward and buried it into the center of
Gabriel's back. The Seventh Son screamed and fell to his knees, his
face a grimace of pain. Edith released the knife and sank her teeth
into the young man's throat, sucking and growling ferally. Raphael
grabbed a handful of the child's hair and jerked her back, separating
her from Gabriel and throwing her to the ground as his brother
collapsed onto his side and lay still. The child vampire rolled to
her feet and ran instinctively to Drusilla, a smear of blood staining
her tiny mouth.

Raphael turned to follow her and the world exploded in a flash of
crimson as Spike smashed the metal pole into his temple. As Raphael
crumpled into the snow, Spike continued to pound on his body and then
delivered a heavy boot to his stomach for good measure.

"There, yeah, you like that?!" he snarled triumphantly, stomping his
heel down on the young man's spine.

Raphael coughed a spatter of blood onto the pristine snow and groaned
weakly as Spike crouched low enough that his mouth was next to the
young man's ear.

"I don't know who sent you punks." He whispered harshly, "But when
you see them again, you better tell them that Prague belongs to us.
And anyone who thinks otherwise is going to end up like the hotshot
over there. Got it?"

The vampire straightened and walked over to Edith and Drusilla. The
dark-haired woman squeezed the child lovingly in her arms and rubbed
a fingertip through the blood on her chin.

"Look, Spike, isn't she precious?" she cooed proudly, sucking the
bloodstained finger loudly into her mouth, "She made a little messy
on her chinny-poo."

"Precious?" he raised a dark eyebrow, "More like clumsy. Come on Dru,
let's get back to the lair before I freeze my bloody knackers off."

Raphael tried his best to push himself up as the vampires walked
away, straining against the frozen ground with his hands, but a
sickening wave of dizziness overtook him and he collapsed, his eyes
rolling up into his skull.

"Gabriel . . ." he wheezed softly as he finally lost consciousness.

* * *

"Raphael, wake up." A voice called to him from a great
distance, "Raphael you have to get up."

Raphael struggled to open his eyes, but his eyelids felt like they
had been weighted with anvils. His throat felt as dry as the Sahara
and his entire body below the neck was utterly numb.

"G . . .Gab . . .where's . . . my brother?" he groaned weakly,
wondering why his arms and legs were responding so sluggishly.

"I'm right here, Raphael." Gabriel carefully eased his brother up
into a sitting position.

Raphael managed to crack his eyelids a little and forced his pupils
to focus. Gabriel's face was pale and filled with concern as he
looked down at him, shoulder length tendrils of auburn hair hanging
down loosely over his cheeks and blood oozing from the bite mark on
his neck. Behind him, a few scattered snowflakes fell across the dark
sky. Somehow, his brother was still alive.

"How?" he attempted to lift his head and instantly regretted it as
his skull was assaulted with blinding pain.

"Easy." Gabriel stroked his brother's blood-caked forehead, "Let me
be the one to take care of you for once. The knife didn't cut too
deep. It must have caught on a seam in my coat or something. Thank
God, I took my jacket."

A siren arose in the distance, getting gradually closer and Raphael
could see faint, flashing red lights reflected on the snow.

"I think you've got a concussion, but you're going to be fine."
Gabriel told him, "The ambulance is here now. They'll warm you up and
take care of you."

Despite his half-conscious condition, Raphael could sense something
from his brother. As the ambulance attendants arrived and Gabriel
started to rise, he reached out weakly and caught his younger
brother's sleeve. His mobility was thankfully returning, although
slowly.

"Let them go, Gabriel." He pleaded quietly, "Edith is gone. It's not
worth it anymore."

The attendants carefully straightened him out and hoisted him onto a
stretcher, while Gabriel looked on silently.

"Promise me you'll let them go." Raphael whispered as he was wheeled
toward the back of the open ambulance.

Gabriel shook his head sadly and clutched a sharp tipped wooden stake
in his hand, "I'm sorry, but I have to do this. I can't give up on
her. And I won't fail Father again."

* * *

Gabriel checked the logo on the card in his hand against the one over
the entrance to the theatre house, his blood pumping in his veins and
his senses sharpened to a razor's edge. This was definitely the
place. There was currently a show on stage and he knew he would not
be allowed past the lobby area without a ticket. That wasn't a
problem. He highly doubted that the vampires' lair was located at
center stage. The shallow wound in his back and the bite mark on his
neck stung terribly, but he had bigger things on his mind.

Looking quickly to the roof, he surmised that there was only modest
attic space in the upper part of the building, certainly inadequate
for the ruling vampire in a city this size. That left only the
basement.

Quickly circling around the back, he found a small, low-lying window.
He took off his coat and spread it over the glass before shattering
it with his foot and pushing the shards inside. Slipping his head
through the opening, he wriggled and squeezed his upper body into the
open window. Once his shoulders were through, he slid inside
effortlessly and lowered himself quietly to the floor.

Gabriel crouched and squinted his eyes, waiting for them to adjust to
the darkness. He was in some sort of boiler room, with a set of
stairs leading up to the main level, probably backstage, and a
service door leading to the basement.

Readying a stake in his hand, he inhaled deeply and forced his
pounding heart under control. This was it. The first true test of his
abilities. He wouldn't let his father down.

* * *

Spike reclined sideways in his throne watching Drusilla as she
grinned gleefully at the tiny vampire beside her. Before them, a
sleek rat skittered across the tabletop seemingly unaware of their
presence.

"Call to it, Edith." Drusilla instructed, "Bring it to you."

The little girl squinted in concentration, balling her tiny hands
into fists around the arms of her doll and grunting cutely. The rat
continued to ignore her.

"Not working, Auntie Dru." Edith pouted, hugging her doll and staring
up at the other vampire with dark, soulless eyes.

"Mummy." Drusilla corrected softly, "It's Mummy Dru now, little one.
And you're just trying too hard. Be in it and let it be in you."

Edith let her arms hang loosely by her sides, her doll almost
touching the floor, and relaxed, staring at the rat with unblinking
eyes.

"Be in me." She intoned quietly, "Be in me."

Spike snorted in disgust, "She should be learning to make kills, not
wasting her time with useless rat tricks."

"Quiet, Spike!" Drusilla hissed at him, covering Edith's ears with
her hands, "You'll break our baby's concentration."

"Our baby?" Spike raised his eyebrows, "She doesn't even look like
me."

"Don't listen to him, sweetie." Dru murmured to the girl, "Daddy's
just getting hungry. Keep trying."

Edith continued to concentrate and the rat made a sharp turn toward
her.

"Gooooood!" Dru cooed excitedly, "Now send it away from you."

Edith ignored her direction and snatched the furry creature up in her
small fist, jamming the animal's neck greedily into her mouth and
biting down.

"Edith!" Drusilla exclaimed, appalled by her lack of table manners,
and tugged on the girl's arms in an attempt to get the animal out of
her mouth.

Spike observed the child vampire's stubbornness and smirked amusedly.

"Maybe she's my baby after all." He chuckled amusedly.

Gabriel emerged from the shadows with a stake in his hand, his face a
mask of intensity, "She doesn't belong to either of you."

Spike leaped to his feet and whirled to face the Seventh Son as
Drusilla gathered Edith into her arms and shrank back cautiously.

"How the bloody Hell did you get here?" Spike snarled, "We left you
for dead."

Gabriel stalked forward, brandishing his stake, "Guess death didn't
want me."

"So what do you think of the place?" Spike spread his hands and
turned to indicate his surroundings, "Pretty slick, huh?"

"Yeah," Gabriel observed dourly, "Not bad as far as basements go."

Spike tilted his head, unconcerned, "I stole the idea from a trashy
novel I read a few years back. Some woman author had the crazy idea
that all vampires do is ponder the mysteries of creation and bitch
and moan about the tragedy of their lost humanity. Imagine it,
the 'Theatres des Vampires'!" He raised the back of his hand to his
forehead and mimed languishing against the arm of his throne, "What a
load of horse puckey."

In the blink of an eye, Spike lashed out, backhanding the young man
across the jaw, and pounced on him as he fell back. Gabriel gripped
the lapels of the vampire's coat and twisted around, throwing him
back onto his throne. He followed with a swift kick, narrowly missing
Spike's throat as the vampire fell.

The vampire sprang upward, slamming his shoulder into Gabriel's
midsection. The auburn-haired youth grabbed onto him and staggered
with the force of the blow, whipping out his stake and jamming it
down into Spike's back, just shy of his heart.

"Arrgh!" the blonde vampire bellowed in pain and stumbled to his
knees.

"Spike!" Drusilla cried, rushing across the room to his side.

Edith ran with her and leaped on Gabriel, yowling like a wild animal
and biting at his face. Startled by the child vampire's ferocity, he
fell to the floor, wrestling with her surprisingly powerful body and
holding her away from his throat. Her face was twisted and demonic
with none of the cherubic innocence she had once possessed. While her
unnatural strength made her difficult to deal with, she still had the
proportions of a child. Once he got a grip on her, it would have been
easy to put a stake into her heart. But the memory of the child who
had sat so trustingly in his lap nagged at his brain and he couldn't
bring himself to do it. How could Edith really be gone?

"Dru. . ." Spike gasped in pain, "get me upstairs."

Dru pulled her lover to his feet and limped with him toward the
stairs, three inches of exposed stake jutting from his back. She
paused at the doorway and looked over her shoulder worriedly to
Edith. The feral child seemed to sense her new mother watching over
her and immediately rolled off Gabriel and scampered up the stairs to
her waiting, outstretched hand.

As the vampire family retreated toward the upper level, Gabriel sat
up and gathered his wits. His face and upper chest bled from a number
of shallow scratches and the wound in his back had reopened, coating
his spine with warm stickiness. He ignored the pain, pushing himself
to his feet and pulling a fresh stake from his belt.

They were upstairs, he knew, waiting for him. He would have to be
ready. Steeling himself, he bounded up the stairs in pursuit.

As he emerged into the gloomy boiler room, he caught the door to the
next floor closing quietly shut. A moment later, he burst through
into a roll and came up crouching with his stake in his hands.

His head snapped back and his vision blurred as Edith smashed her
tiny fist into his face, knocking him flat and sending the stake
clattering out of his grip across the hard floor. Sitting up, Gabriel
rubbed his jaw and glared at the three vampires.

While Edith prowled calmly back and forth, watching with bloodthirsty
eyes, Spike was bent over, leaning against an open box that bristled
with stage props and grunting in pain as Drusilla yanked on the stake
in his back.

"Eyah!" Spike snarled as she jerked the wooden weapon out of his
flesh and the cheers of the nearby crowd rose in answer. Spike peered
out through the thick stage curtain and smiled evilly, straightening
and rubbing at the open wound.

"You missed the heart." He glared at Gabriel, "Big mistake."

"Don't worry. I'll get it right before the night is over." The
Seventh Son assured him darkly, flexing his swollen jaw, "I won't let
you take her."

"Somehow, I doubt that." The blond vampire sneered, "Edith?"

At the sound of her name, the child vampire dove at Gabriel, reaching
for his throat with her tiny fangs. Drusilla stepped forward to
assist her adopted child, but Spike placed a hand on her shoulder and
stopped her.

"Let her be, Dru. She can handle this. You kill him, Edith, and you
get to drink him!" he offered cheerily.

Edith redoubled her ferocity, snarling violently. Gabriel grasped the
tiny vampire and tried to throw her off him, but she clung
tenaciously with her small arms. Flipping her over, he snatched up
his fallen stake and pressed it against her delicate chest.

"Edith!" Drusilla cried out, but again, Spike restrained her.

Gabriel leaned forward to drive the stake into the little girl's
undead heart, but hesitated, unable to complete the deed. Even
fighting for his life, he could not bring himself to slay the child,
hoping that somehow there would be a way to save her.

Edith growled viciously and jammed her thumb into his eye, twisting
out of his grip. She sank her teeth into his hand, snarling
maliciously, and he reacted blindly, heaving her body away from him
in desperation.

A high-pitched keen cut through the room and he rubbed at his eye,
attempting to restore his vision. Through blurred sight, he saw
Edith's tiny body impaled on the tip of a silver-painted wooden sword
that protruded from the prop box.

His jaw fell in horror, opening in a scream of denial but uttering no
sound. His silent pain found voice in Drusilla as she wailed
piteously, gaping at the rapidly disintegrating corpse of her child.
The woman vampire turned her murderous eyes on Gabriel and the wail
became a shriek of torment.

"You killed my baby!" she dove at him and slammed into his chest,
carrying both of them through the heavy curtain and onto the stage.

"Dru!" Spike leaped after his lover, but hesitated and hung back
before setting foot on the open stage.

As Gabriel and Drusilla battled on heedlessly and the stage actors
fled, the crowd reacted confusedly but remained seated, thinking it
was all part of the show. Gabriel kicked the vampire away and grabbed
up a burning metal torch that had been set out for the performance,
using it to keep her at bay.

"I'll eat your eyes!" she snarled in anguish, circling around him,
just beyond the reach of the guttering flame, "I'll rip your heart
out and rend it into shreds! You killed my Edith!"

Gabriel choked as he heard her say the words and he jabbed at her
with the torch, his lip curled in pain. The spectators were getting
worried now and started for the exit in increasing numbers.

"Drusilla, come on!" Spike shouted to her from off stage, "We have to
get out of here!"

Drusilla ignored him and slashed at Gabriel with a taloned hand. The
Seventh Son reacted swiftly, jamming the end of the torch into her
midsection and shoving with all his strength. Drusilla roared in pain
as her burning body was launched off the stage and into the crowd.

"DRU!!" Spike jumped forward, his eyes locked on her flailing body as
she fell screaming into the near-hysterical mob.

Gabriel cut him off, flashing the torch in his face in challenge.
Spike's gaze flicked again to the maddened, fleeing crowd, searching
out his lover's form. The flames that had threatened to engulf her
had been extinguished, trampled by the surging spectators, but she
could not escape as she was carried along in the tide.

"Dru!" he made a move to go after her, but Gabriel swiped the flaming
brand across his path again, stopping him short.

"Don't worry about her, William." Gabriel growled, brandishing the
torch, "You've got bigger problems."

Spike hesitated, caught, looking back and forth between the crowd
that bore Drusilla away from him and the killing flame in the Seventh
Son's hands. With a grunt of frustration, he bolted for the stairs,
up to the roof.

Gabriel followed close behind, bounding up the steps with the torch
in his grasp. Kicking open the door at the top, he skidded out onto
the snowy rooftop. Spike was waiting for him and kicked the torch
from his hands to clatter down the steep slope and fall to the street
below. Gabriel slipped on the icy tiles and fell forward into a hard
uppercut, his jaw clenched in pain as he dropped to his knees.

"Couldn't leave bloody well alone, could you?" Spike drove a hard
boot into Gabriel's side, shoving him a few feet closer to the edge
of the roof. He kicked the boy again, this time in the face, pushing
him to the lip of the dangerous precipice.

Hauling the Seventh Son's head up by a handful of his auburn hair,
Spike spat in his face.

"You're just a punk kid, you know that? I'm going to make you pay for
hurtin' Dru." he bent Gabriel back over the corner of the roof,
grinding his spine against the cold, rough tiles and opening his
wound again, "I'm William the Bloody. I didn't get my name for
nothing."

Gabriel strained against the vampire's unholy strength, clawing
desperately to gain a hold on anything solid. His hands caught parts
of the roof and slipped off without gaining purchase. Spike's power
was too great, he could not resist. His mission was a failure.

But Gabriel's dedication had gone far beyond professional pride. The
vampire had made it personal when he had corrupted poor, innocent
Edith. Tangling his fingers into Spike's collar and reaching into his
pocket with his free hand, Gabriel jerked himself up and raked a
small silver object across the vampire's left eye.

Spike screamed in agony and fought to escape the burning pain, but
Gabriel held on, grating the jagged edges of Edith's crucifix pendant
against his eyebrow. Spike had no choice but to pull away from the
edge and shake the Seventh Son off.

Gabriel rolled and regained his feet as Spike fell to his knees,
clutching the smoking, brutalized flesh around his eye. Writhing in
torment, he was defenseless as Gabriel readied a stake and stood over
him.

"It's over, William." He panted, raising his hand for a fatal strike.

With a burst of desperate strength, Spike thrashed violently and
kicked Gabriel's legs out from under him. The Seventh Son landed hard
on his side, tumbling and sliding to the edge of the roof. As he
skidded over the lip, he grabbed onto a jutting cornerstone at the
last second and hung on for his life. The wound in his back stretched
painfully and spilled fresh blood onto the paved street below.

Spike staggered weakly to his feet, watching, waiting for the boy to
fall, but a familiar cry sounded from the streets below, capturing
his attention.

"Dru!" he gasped, staggering for the door to the ground level, "I'm
coming, Baby! Hold on! Daddy's coming!"

Gabriel clambered up over the edge of the roof and slowly pulled
himself to safety, too weak to pursue. He rolled over lay on his
back, wheezing puffs of steam into the cold night air and shivering
from more than the bitter cold.

* * *

Peter set his suitcase down at the Prague International Airport
boarding gate and checked his watch. Raphael stopped next to him with
a bandaged forehead and a limp that would stay with him for weeks.
Gabriel was in no better shape, rolling along slowly in a wheelchair.
After they had taken him down from the roof of the theatre house,
Peter rushed him to the nearest hospital to have his back stitched up
and the multiple lacerations on his body cleaned and treated.
Exposure to cold and trauma had left him weakened and the doctor had
put him in a wheelchair as a precaution. He was a resilient boy,
however, and a fast healer. A few weeks of solid rest would have him
in perfect shape again.

"I have to go make a phone call before we board." The boys' father
said, "It won't take but a minute."

Raphael nodded and Gabriel hardly seemed to notice, absently toying
with a small, silver crucifix with his hands in his lap as Peter
headed toward the main lobby.

"You did good out there last night." Raphael told his brother in a
quiet voice that was filled with pride, "Better than anyone could
have expected."

"Then why does it feel like I failed?" the younger boy's voice was
very soft.

"Sometimes that's the best victory that can be expected." Raphael
shrugged, "You just have try and do your best."

Gabriel turned to face his older brother sadly, "When Father first
told me about the vampires, I wanted to be a hero, Raphael. I thought
it would be just like in the stories. But I was wrong. I had no idea
what it would cost me."

"That's what heroism is all about, little brother." Raphael wheeled
the auburn-haired young man over next to a seat and sat
down, "Sacrifice. All things considered, I think you did a pretty
good job."

Gabriel smiled and nodded softly, straightening in his wheelchair and
slipping the pendant into his pocket.

"Thanks, Raphael."

* * *

Peter sank into the soft leather seat in the back of the black
limousine and looked across at the dark-clad man next to him.

"Let's make this quick, Barstow." he said curtly, handing the man a
small, white card with a series of numbers etched on it, "I have a
plane to catch."

Barstow accepted the card and slipped it into the breast pocket of
his business suit.

"I assume this is an offshore account?" he asked plainly.

"Of course." Peter scoffed, "I'm hardly an amateur."

"Then you can expect payment before the end of the day." Barstow
nodded, "Your son did quite well, despite certain . . .setbacks."

"Those were unavoidable." Peter snapped hotly, "The plan still went
through. The vampires have fled Prague and I took care of the girl
for you. There's not even a body to find."

"As I said, Mister Giles, your soldier did an impressive job." The
man held up a calming hand, "I'd be interested in seeing him when his
training is complete."

Peter didn't answer, merely staring expectantly at the other man.
Barstow matched his gaze patiently and then broke into a broad smile.

"I assume you are waiting for the other half of your payment. Of
course you are." Barstow reached into his pocket and produced a small
folder of papers and a plastic cylinder filled with shiny black pills.

"The formula is far from complete, but this will certainly set your
research ahead by many months, perhaps even years." He considered the
englishman for a moment before continuing, "If you don't mind, might
I ask what you plan to do with all this research?"

"You might," Peter alluded, accepting the two items coveteously, "if
you shared with me the reason you needed that child dead."

Barstow shrugged, unsurprised, "I suppose you've earned the right to
know. Besides, you are one of the few people who can appreciate what
I'm about to tell you. Are you familiar with tales of the Vampire
Slayer."

"More than you think." Peter revealed sourly.

"The political climate is very delicate in this region, Mister Giles.
Sometimes a man like myself must resort to outside influences to
insure control over his territory. Influences who tend to shun
daylight, if you understand my meaning."

"I understand that William the Bloody was standing in the way of you
gaining control of the local vampire population." He narrowed his
green eyes, "But what does this have to do with the Slayer?"

"Disturbances to the balance around here can be very costly. A new
Slayer could upset things irrevocably, even if it would not be for
many years."

"You mean Edith?" Peter gasped, "The next Slayer?"

"Some believed so." Barstow nodded, "Enough for me to take
precautions. So, Mister Giles, are you now going to tell me what your
plans are for the research I have given you?"

"I'm ensuring my future." Peter opened the car door and stepped
outside, "Goodbye, Mister Barstow. A pleasure doing business with
you."

"As always, Mister Giles." Barstow waved as the door closed with a
thud, "Always."

* * *

Spike sloshed through the water-filled sewer tunnel, lost and
carrying Drusilla's limp form in his arms. They had been running
since last night, not once surfacing to find out where they were.
They would run all the way to the sea if they had to, beyond even.
Prague was lost to them now, a burnt bridge better left in the past.
He had heard rumors of a Hellmouth somewhere in America and that his
old sire, Angelus, had settled there. Perhaps they would pay him a
visit . . .

Dru stirred weakly in his arms and moaned softly.

"Is . . . is he gone, Spike?" she whispered tiredly. Her dress was
blackened and some of her flesh had been scorched. Worse still, the
fear-crazed mob had trampled her in their rush to escape the theatre.
She had survived, but it would be a long time before she would
recover, if at all.

"Who, dumpling?" he cradled her a little closer to him as he walked.
It was the first time he had heard her speak since he had found her
lying in a heap on the street.

"The nasty boy with the eyes that see." Her eyelids closed and she
turned her face into his chest, "He's coming to find us, Spike. I can
feel it. He wants to kill my Edith."

"What?" he frowned down at her and paused at a fork in the tunnel.

She unfolded her arms, revealing a tiny, porcelain faced doll with
dark glittering eyes and curly hair the color of black coffee in her
lap. She stood the doll up and began stroking its soft hair.

"She's frightened Spike, my Edith." She hugged the lifeless doll
protectively against herself and caressed its hard, cold cheek
lovingly, "Poor Miss Edith. But Mummy Dru won't ever let anything
happen to you, Sweetie. Promise."

Spike rolled his eyes in exasperation and turned sharply down one of
the branches with a harsh sigh.





AUTHOR'S NOTE

For those of you who may be interested in the rest of the series
and/or may have missed a piece or two of it, below is a list of the
stories with short descriptions.



DIVERGENT PATHS - Coinciding with the discovery of an artifact with
the power to close the Hellmouth, a mysterious stranger arrives in
Sunnydale with abilities that rival the Slayer's. Will he be a
powerful ally for her, or bring about her downfall? (Faith/Buffy/Willow/Xander/Giles Sec),

TO HELL WITH TOMORROW - Thirty-five years into the future and Slaying
has taken on a whole new scope. Gabriel Giles attempts to cheat
death and learns that things happen for a reason. (Giles/Oz/Willow/Angel(us) Sec)

BAD BLOOD - A familiar face comes to LA, forcing Angel to confront
both a violent killer and his lingering feelings for Buffy. (Angel(us)/Cordelia Sec)

RETURNS - Spike and Drusilla return to Sunnydale over the summer, but
they aren't the only familiar faces turning up. Planning to steal
the powers of the Slayer and Seventh Son, they cast a dark shadow
over the reuniting Chosen Ones. (Spike/Dru/Buffy/Willow/Xander/Giles Sec)

POOR MISS EDITH - Before coming to Sunnydale, Spike and Drusilla
lived in Prague, Czechoslovakia and battled with a young Gabriel
Giles. (Spike/Dru/Giles Sec),

REDEEMED - Five months after 'The Wish', a new Slayer arrives in
Sunnydale to aid the Whitehats and faces off with a very different
Seventh Son. (Giles/Oz/Faith/Willow/Xander Sec)

BOY'S NIGHT OUT - While the girls have a night to themselves, the
boys go looking for fun and run afoul of a demon with a taste for
young men. (Buffy/Oz/Willow/Xander Sec)

HISTORY - Threatened by the possible return of the Master, Buffy is
forced into a hard choice between love and duty. (Buffy/Willow Sec)

FACING FEARS - Buffy's been dumped and three different men plan to
take advantage, Riley, Parker and the newly-reborn Master.
Meanwhile, Gabriel is targeted by the Initiative. (Buffy/Willow/Giles/Spike/Xander Sec),

A DAY IN THE LIFE - When Buffy and Gabriel get turned into children,
Willow and Xander must assume the roles of Slayer and Seventh Son.
But which is the greater problem, Sunnydale's vampire population or
two rambunctious toddlers on the loose? (Buffy/Willow/Giles/Xander Sec)