It was during her shopping trip with Buffy and Anya that
Willow figured it out. Something Anya said triggered the witch-vampiress’
memory and Willow knew what needed to be done.
“Isn’t it amazing,” the vengeance demon had said as
they walked into yet another store filled with things for both the human and
demon community.
“What is?” Buffy asked absently as she looked through a
list of services. The stores they frequented catered more to the elite of
society, but had enough business sense to allow those under them the same
designs as well. What the rich and famous wore, so, too, did the masses wish to
emulate.
“How even now there are so many things to buy? I mean war
or not, the economy is still booming. Nice to know that no matter what’s not
connected to your little empire, it’s still the most prosperous thing out
there.”
Not connected, Anya had said, what’s not connected,
meaning that there were things, so many things, that WERE connected.
So now, three days later, Willow was sitting atop the
Hellmouth, letting the energies flow through her and tweaking the last of her
spell. She hadn’t told anyone of her progress, wanting to get it right, first.
This was their long-term plan, after all, and she wanted to ensure success.
Willow doubted any of her family would kill her for failure, but she hated when
she couldn’t get something down. This was one of those times.
The room was thick with magicks, coating the surface of the
very air. They swirled and eddied across Willow, rubbing her skin in a familiar
caress, seducing, reminding, begging, taunting her with their secrets and
desires. She’d neglected everyone these last days in her attempt to understand
and control the magicks here, and knew Paul was growing worried.
Couldn’t be helped, this wasn’t something she could
interrupt for the sake of reassuring her lover. Willow had a bad moment when she
realized that lover brought home some vampiress to his bed, and the energies
surrounding her blasted outwards in her jealously. It wasn’t that they both
hadn’t taken other lovers, but the fact was, they’d never brought one home,
not to their private domain. Willow was not appeased when Paul assured her the
other woman was nowhere near their rooms, hadn’t, in fact, gone anywhere else
but his study, but Willow managed to calm enough to refocus herself on the
matter at hand.
She was still torn between finishing what she was doing to
confront Paul, and showing him that she could do this, could control these
magicks and herself, on her own.
All she needed was to find that one thread, the one fiber
that spawned the other ones, that connected everything to each other, and all of
that to ‘other’ things…to everything. Once she found that, Willow knew
that she could use it to find the energy portal, and once she found that
then it was simply a matter of opening it. Giles already had several ideas for
that, and Willow heard from Saffir about the archives the Watcher’s Council
kept and how there were several more ideas in those tomes.
Three days later, she was still searching.
Letting her mind wander to her family, Willow again found
her center, knowing that thinking too much about the very many threads that
wound around her would cause her not to see any of them. So she concentrated on
her family, on the fact that she was closer to them than she had been even
previously, that she found a kindred in Drusilla when it came to Spike, to the
art of the Hunt, and to the care and feeding of Faith. None of those things
would have occurred to Willow before; sure, she and Spike had good times and she
still wanted the handsome vampipre, but she always felt somehow wrong with him,
and it wasn’t, she believed, because she ‘swung both ways’ as Spike called
it.
No, it wasn’t that, but more that she had yet to find her
place in the world. Fighting by the Slayer’s side for years had given Willow a
confidence she hadn’t previously had, but even then, the former redhead felt
left out, regulated to the sidelines. Now, now she was an intricate part of the
Family that controlled the world, and would soon control so much more.
Buffy and Angelus were the appointed leaders, true, but
then it was Darwin’s survival of the fittest that dictated that. Their Family
was strong, stronger than anyone else in the world, but not them. And they were
good at the leadership thing, Willow, even now, hated that, hated making
decisions that affected anyone but her and her Family. Who cared about the rest
of this miserable world? But they did, because they knew it was a matter of
seeing that their Family, and their legacy, survived long into the future.
Connor was a different matter, and one Willow loved trying
to puzzle out. She and Drusilla would spend long hours talking about the boy,
his place then and now, and Buffy and Angelus’ vision of him for their future.
She’d love to have a go at him, but didn’t want dissension in the Family;
Buffy was overly protective of the boy, Angelus only slightly less so, and Anya
had a jealous streak that rivaled any of theirs, and Willow couldn’t quite
blame her.
Still, it was interesting watching the youngest among them
at work, he seemed to have inherited his father’s artistic talent; the plans
he drew up for Buffy’s gift to Angelus was extremely impressive. The castle in
Ireland promised to be magnificent, grander than anything the Island had seen
since the days of Tara, Firbolg and the Tuatha De Danann. Their new stronghold
guaranteed them a place no one could forget.
Willow wondered if they’d bring Lilah with them, Angelus
seemed over his vengeance against the now completely brainwashed woman. He did,
occasionally bring her to his and Buffy’s rooms. Willow knew the couple
enjoyed watching the human’s degradation and humiliation, and Lilah’s
complete devotion to both Master and Mistress and their pleasure. Willow did not
know, however, if they used her as the sex object Angelus turned her into, but
strongly suspected it. Still, Faith seemed to enjoy Lilah’s charms well
enough, though the slayer’s need far outstripped Lilah’s ability to please
her and the myriad others Angelus ‘lent’ her to.
Ah, Faith, Willow thought as she studied and rejected
various threads, strings, potentials, and possibilities. Willow never thought
she’d accept the second slayer to the point where the witch would let Faith
anywhere near her, sexually. But then, things changed drastically in the last
years, so it was maybe to be expected. And Hades knew Faith had a talented
tongue! And hands, and boy, could she move her body. The slayer – which was
pretty much all Faith knew any more – fed on the sexual energy of the beings
surrounding her just as much as she did on the Hunt, on the Kill. It went hand
in hand in a way the old Willow wouldn’t have understood.
Faith was their greatest creation, the Family; she
epitomized everything they could and would do, their power over good and evil,
over creation, succession even. With Faith on their side, and not turned, not
demonized in any way, it showed the demons that the Family could and would do
anything, and it showed the humans that even against one’s own will, could
they be made to serve.
Willow chuckled as she dismissed yet another strand. She
loved the power she wielded over everyone, so she shared, what did it matter?
Ruling the world was a lot of work, it took time, energy, and
organization and most of their Family weren’t really into that. Giles loved
it, he reveled in it, and Saffir was the perfect companion for the once stuffy
watcher. Buffy did it because she wanted more time with Angelus, and since
Angelus wanted the world, then she helped him in every way she could. Connor was
learning, and loving every second of that, and seemed to finally find his niche
with his father and Sire.
Which left Dawn; Willow sighed and discarded another
potential filament. The girl had completely lost her mind, crazier than Drusilla,
Dawn looked upon the crazed vampiress as a kind of mother figure and Dru loved
every second of that. Willow often laughed at the interactions between the two,
Dru’s caring and Dawn’s dependence on her.
Dawn, Dawn, Dawn….
There it was!
Willow felt it, she felt the rightness of it, felt it
through her entire being, it felt right, absolutely right. Oh, this was it! This
was what she’d been searching for, the link to everything and everywhen and
everywhere and all…
The power burst through Willow, it snapped around her in a rage of emotion at being discovered, at being identified, and fought, oh how it fought, it wasn’t meant, it screamed, it wasn’t meant to be harnessed like this or identified even, it wasn’t meant to be, and yet and yet there she was, identifying it, harnessing it, preparing to use it for not only her purposes, but for her Family’s as well.
There it was, beautiful and pure, and entirely everything
and all hers. It was a part of Willow now, and that power continued to flow
through her in ways she’d never before imagined. It flowed and swayed and
pounded, fighting, fighting, fighting, but it was useless, it was all useless,
because it was captured now, and Willow wasn’t ever letting it go, not ever,
it was hers, now, hers, hers, hers…
Paul burst through the doors shielding the Hellmouth from
the rest of the house, and consequently the rest of the world. He’d felt the
power the moment Willow did. The house shook and the tall vampire wouldn’t be
surprised if the entire world shook with the strength of the magicks of whatever
Willow was doing. He burst through the doors half-expecting Willow to have
opened the Hellmouth and let loose the hoards of Hell in some misguided
attempted at…something.
He knew she was addicted to the dark magicks that flowed
through her, and that she needed some of that power every so often because of
that addiction, but he’d never seriously thought that she’d go out of
control. A fact Paul was now rapidly rethinking. He raced across the floor,
skidding to a halt just outside the protective barrier that surrounded the
Hellmouth and Willow. Whatever she was doing, Paul didn’t want to interrupt
and disrupt her concentration; the Hellmouth, which was still blissfully closed,
didn’t need to be opened accidentally.
Willow’s beautiful long black hair flowed around her, her
hazel eyes open and looking blankly ahead, her hands raised to her sides as she
sat directly atop the Hellmouth.
“Willow!” Paul shouted, unable not to. He wanted to
pound on the barrier, but knew the futility of that. He wanted to recite the
incantation and step into the dome with her, but didn’t want to let the energy
and magicks that were visible around
Willow loose.
Suddenly her eyes turned towards him, looked at him,
through him, into him and Paul wondered if maybe disrupting her really was the
best choice.
“Dawn,” she said and smiled, “I know.”
Paul had no idea what she meant, knew what she was working
on, but wasn’t aware of the specifics. Then she collapsed; the swirling wind
of colors and light stopping as she hit the floor. Paul quickly muttered the
words that would let him in and stepped through the barrier. Gathering her pale
body in his arms, the tall vampire rocked her gently.
In no way did he love Willow nor she him; neither would
consent to the Mating Ritual, they’d never bind themselves to each other the
way Angelus and Buffy had, but they had a bond nonetheless. Paul cared for
Willow, as much as a soulless demon who had never – even when alive – loved
another being could.
Brushing her hair off her forehead, Paul kissed her pale
lips, whispering to her. The words didn’t matter; all that did was the
soothing tone, the plea that was evident even to him. Never, never had he pled for anything in his long, long life, it went
against every instinct within him, but as the words left his mouth, they seemed
so right. Now, with Willow in his arms, unresponsive and colder than normal, he
did. He beseeched anyone and anything listening that she was alright; he found,
in those few minutes where he’d thought he lost her, that he couldn’t lose
her.
Paul may not have loved Willow, he may not have wanted so
permanent a bonding as the Joining Ritual, but he cared for her. He couldn’t,
he discovered in those few minutes that stretched into infinity, lose her.
“Paul?” Her voice was weak, a reedy question of his
name that was enough to get his attention.
“Willow? Baby, what did you do to yourself?”
“The Hellmouth, it was the answer all along,” she
whispered, eyes still closed, head still resting against her lover’s shoulder.
She couldn’t move and wasn’t sure she would have anyway.
“I found the connection, the link that ties everything
together. I found it, it’s a part of me now, until it becomes a part of
Dawn.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Dawn was screaming.
The sound echoed throughout the wing and trickled down into
the main part of the mansion, causing everyone to run towards the sound.
Simultaneously, the phones began ringing. Barking orders, Angelus followed Buffy
and Connor into Dawn’s room where Drusilla was soothing the hysterical girl.
“Master,” a minion said, his eyes downcast and his
posture submissive. “Master Stewart is on the phone for you.”
Grabbing the device, Angelus snapped, “What is it,
Paul?”
“It’s Willow,” the other vampire’s voice said
clearly across the line. “She claims to have found it.”
Before Angelus could reply, George, their butler, appeared
more silently than half the minions in the house, and handed another phone to
Buffy. “Mistress,” George bowed respectively. “Master Giles is on the
phone.”
Handing her the phone, he slipped away as Buffy demanded,
“What, Giles?”
Drusilla still tried to calm the wailing Dawn, Faith was
growing anxious with all the noise and the scent of prey overwhelming, Spike
scowled harder the harder Dawn cried, and Dru acted like nothing so much as a
mother. It was nearly surreal.
“Are you sure?” Angelus asked Paul now, certain that he
was, but wanting to double check, just in case.
“Oh, yeah, I’m sure.” There was something in Paul’s
voice that told Angelus that Paul wasn’t going to congratulate Willow on her
accomplishment and the master vampire wondered just what the witch did.
“Good. We’ll meet as soon as Giles and Saffir can get
here. How soon does Willow think she can perform the spell?”
“As soon as we’re all ready,” Paul stated, then
promised, “I’ll call you with details when I know them.”
Angelus disconnected the line and turned to Buffy who was
just finishing her conversation with Giles. “Well?”
“Giles thinks the Hellmouth was either disrupted, opened,
or Willow did something.” She raised an eyebrow in question as Connor and
Spike gathered closer and the four of the moved out into the hallway.
“Leave,” Connor sneered at the lingering vampires and
they did so without further thought. The youngest among them smiled and turned
back to his Family, waiting for his father to reveal the answer.
Nodding at his son, Angelus smiled. “That was Paul,” he
confirmed. “Willow was successful.”
Spike let out a bark of laughter, clamping Angelus on the
back, Connor joined him, moving out of the way just as Buffy launched herself
into Angelus waiting arms. Her eyes were lighted up, sparkling in anticipation
and joy, and in the split second before her lips attacked his, Angelus saw a
small thread of regret, too.
Pulling away, Angelus nodded to Spike. “Pack up the Family, my boy, we’re heading to Africa.”
Spike nodded and turned to Connor as Angelus and Buffy
murmured to each other further down the hallway. “Your castle project, how
long until that’s finished?”
“It’s planned out, all the other castles are demolished
and the materials are either there, or on their way to the site. With round the
clock human, demon, and vampire slave labor, I’d say a year, tops. But
that’s optimistic, so be warned.”
“It’ll take us that long to wrap things up here, figure
another six to nine months after that, just to set us up in there, make use of
the place and whatnot,” Spike mused as Connor nodded.
“If we push, it’ll take less time, but I don’t want
shoddy workmanship slaves or not.” What Connor didn’t want was to disappoint
Buffy. He knew that vampires didn’t feel emotions such as love, caring,
affection, but it seemed his family was different in that and Connor was no
exception. He loved Buffy like a mother and didn’t want to disappoint either
her, or his father, by not completing this first major project.
“No, no, agreed,” Spike nodded, still thinking. Long
term planning wasn’t exactly his thing; he was more a act now, run from
consequences vamp later. Still, this needed to be done and done right.
“Okay, so by the time Rupert gets here, Willow recovers,
they plan out the spell…it’ll never work on the first try; statistically
speaking, something terrible will happen that try and we’ll need to clean that
mess up first before moving on.”
“We’ll figure the spell first then,” Connor agreed as
the wailing from behind them finally subsided. Idly, the boy wondered if Dru
knocked Dawn out, but then her heard muffled voices and decided that was
probably a no.
“Figure the spell, set it all up, take out the rebels, and move.”
Spike agreed, “It shouldn’t take us long to wipe out
those left in Africa, but I know Angelus wants to go in himself. No army, no
minions, just us. Kind of like his last attempt on so-called friends. Alleviate
some of that excess anger.”
“Is everything always personal with those two?” Connor
wondered as the couple in question disappeared around the corner, Buffy still
held securely in Angelus’ arms.
“Yeah,” Spike shrugged. “Yeah, it is.”
Dru opened the door then, exiting the now-quiet room.
“Our little slayer is with the coming dawn,” she whispered to the vampires
in front of her, stealthy moving up to Spike and wrapping her arms around his
neck, rubbing her body along his firm one.
“It’s happening, isn’t it,” she wondered.
“Yeah, pet,” Spike smirked, “Yes it is.”
Connor shook his head and went into the room behind the
couple. Faith and Dawn were curled together, the latter still sniffing every now
and then, the slayer looking fierce in her protective position around the girl.
From the limited contact Connor had with Faith, he knew her to be vicious and
strong, but not overly protecting or a strong leader. Maybe, despite her fierce
love of it, it took becoming more slayer than woman to bring out all those
traits in her.
“Faith,” Connor said in a low voice, “Will you be
okay here?”
As a rule, they didn’t leave either Dawn or Faith alone,
and especially not with each other. But things spiraled faster than anyone could
have predicted these last few minutes and now Connor was the only one not
currently caught up in something, so it was left to him to see to their safety.
“Tired,” she said and Connor wondered if he’d heard
her speak since arriving here. “Sleep now.”
“Ah, okay then,” he nodded and wondered who Faith was
talking about, herself, Dawn, or him. “I’ll have Nicole watch you then,
alright?”
Faith said nothing else, turning her head back to Dawn and
closing her eyes. Well, then, Connor thought and left. He rang for Nicole and
instructed the minion to watch the two women, calling immediately for either Dru
or Spike should she need help.
Turning in the direction of his room, Connor wondered what
should be first on his list. Now that the time was finally right, there were so
many things to prepare. Plans to finally execute, new ones to implement, spies
to pay and kill, rumors to spread, and old friends to find and eviscerate.
Life was never dull.
~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy laughed, a low throaty sound as Angelus slammed the door closed behind
them.
“Where do you want to go first, lover?” He asked, his
lips already trailing across her neck to her breasts.
“Everywhere,” she said, “Anywhere. I want to see it
all, I want to see everything.”
Vamping out, Angelus bit into Buffy’s breast, drawing a
mouthful of blood before kissing his way to her other breast, not unaware of her
reaction. “We’ll take a side tour before we reach Africa, okay? I know Giles
said how he wanted to show you England, so we’ll do that before we head south.
Anyplace else you want to see?”
“The pyramids,” Buffy gasped as her lover’s talented
mouth slowly dipped lower, his equally talented hands stripping her of shirt and
pants in record time. “Versailles, all those places you took over for me.”
Smirking, Angelus licked her hip, breathing deeply at the arousal that slammed
into him. “By the gods, you’re beautiful, Buffy,” he whispered and tasted
her again, fangs slipped gently into her outer thigh, drawing just a little of
her sweet blood. “We’ll see all those places, I promise.”
“Angelus!” She cried as he finally, finally, made his
way to her core, teasing her to the point of insanity with his tongue. He held
her down, one strong hand gripping her waist to still her, the other twisting
her hands behind her, raising her just high enough for him to fully enjoy her.
“Wesley’s mine,” he reminded her though he needn’t
bothered, she remembered well enough. “As for the rest, I don’t care. I
suspect Ethan Rayne is with them, I’m sure Giles wants him.”
“Yes,” Buffy whimpered as he mercilessly brought her to
the brink of orgasm once, twice, only to stop her from falling over the edge.
His mouth tasted her, his tongue seeking all her hidden secrets, his long
fingers playing with her hip.
Bucking up again, Buffy wordlessly demanded he end her
torment and just as she was about to force the issue, flip them over and take
what she wanted, Angelus released her, swiftly moving up her to enter her
waiting body. Then he stilled, savoring the clenching muscles of her body,
loving the way her eyes glazed with love and passion.
She bucked her hips again and he moved, quickly thrusting
in and out of her coolness, growling when her nails extended and raked down his
back, when she deliberately clenched her inner muscles harder, trapping him
within her.
“Buffy,” he rumbled, kissing her around both their
fangs, moving faster now. She bared her throat to him, drawing him down as she
positioned herself at his throat, at his mark.
“Love you,” she whispered just before sinking her fangs
into his soft flesh, tasting the love and passion he felt for her, feeling him
tear away to roar his completion as her own cry was muffled by his neck.
Flipping them over, Angelus cradled Buffy against his body
as they both calmed. There were so many things to do, but at the moment, those
could all wait. His large hands continued roaming over Buffy’s back, feeling
her spine as she all but melted into him, her muscles contracting and expanding,
her body relaxing into his.
“We’ll start tomorrow,” Angelus said, “Pick the
places you want to see, the minions you want to take. It’ll be a small army,
I’m sure Spike and Connor already planned for that.” He had absolute faith
him his son and grandchilde to do his bidding, knowing they wanted the same
thing and would follow both he and Buffy anywhere.
“Are we touring first, or killing?”
Laughing, Angelus tilted her head up and kissed her.
“Touring, I want to give Willow and Giles enough time to gather whatever
supplies they need and make sure the spell actually works.”
Snorting, Buffy agreed. “Yeah, since historically
speaking, they never do the first try.”
Growling his displeasure at the thought that something
could happen to her, Angelus reiterated, “They’re to get the spell right, or
I’ll rip them limb from limb.” Returning to his original conversation track,
he finished, “So, we’ll sightsee, they’ll work on the spell, then we’ll
head to Africa.”
“I can’t wait to see those ‘friends’ of yours,”
Buffy smirked, “I have so much to thank them for.”
And they’d be sure to scream when she did thank them,
Buffy vowed, all of them.
~~~~~~~~~~
Wesley looked up, noting the way the group of demons and several magick users
they had in their camp stopped their work, looked to the sky in awe, wonder, and
fear. Dead silence descended over the camp and it seemed even the animals were
silent for those few minutes. Oz, who was sitting next to him, sniffed the air
like the werewolf he was and Wes wondered how much of the wolf was in the man
and if the man fully realized that.
“Something happened,” Oz said as he returned to carving their stakes. “Don’t know what,” he answered Wesley’s unspoken question. “But it’s big.”
Somehow, that wasn’t what Wesley wanted to hear.