The girls aren't in this one... sorry. The story gets in the way again.
Enjoy though
Katharyn
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Title:
The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle – Swings and Roundabouts (Part 114)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome.
katharynrosser@hotmail.com Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe as set up in “The Wish” though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Nothing is referenced that occurs after S5 though. Guess why? Most “spoilers” would be for the first chronicle of this fic rather than the show and if you haven’t read that then much of this will make no sense but you can try and get round it by reading athe preface to Part 104 which summarises most of what went before.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all of the Sidestep Chronicle)
Summary: The vampire’s reaction to the death of Spike and Toni’s escape.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional.
Notes: This is, once again, a part without Tara and Willow. It is also a little shorter than the usual. This is really because of how long the last part ended up – otherwise this would have been attached to it. Back to the girls next time, I promise. I suspect that you yanks don’t have roundabouts… the phrase fits though.
Thanks To: All My Brilliant Beta Readers (AMBBR) Kerry (Forrister) and Jo (Wizpup) who for some reason signed right back up for this fic after seeing the size of the last one. No accounting for madness is there. And Celia (TiredSoul) who should have known better but signed up anyway. *HUGS* and Big Thanks to all of you. This is one of Celia’s and ain’t she just soooo opinionated? I love it.
The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle
Swings and Roundabouts
By
Katharyn Rosser
Lucas came into the audience chamber very warily - carefully even - and that, Darla knew, was a good indicator of bad news. Her followers here in Sunnydale had been a great deal more careful in the last few of weeks. Careful to avoid being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The wrong place was, though, increasingly becoming the space around Drusilla. They were afraid of her. More afraid of dear Dru than they were of Darla herself…
Which was acceptable. Fear was fear and Dru was hers. More so every day. A fear of Dru
was a fear of her. Of what she could do simply by asking Dru to do it for her. It was the way things had always been. The Master had been feared – but he had always known when to pass that responsibility, of maintaining the fear, onto others.
William, when he’d arrived, they’d simply been wary of. Even the newest of her creations were more directly connected to the power of the Master than he was – their
right to seniority was greater than his – but William had learnt many things over the last century. He was something that they had to respect – and he was their brother, in a sense. Under the edicts of the Master – many of which Darla considered it good practice to maintain as it suited her – he was one of them.
Even if he didn’t want to be.
Membership of the Order of Aurelius was a matter of blood – never choice. He couldn’t choose to leave the Order any more than some stray vampire up above could choose to just walk down into the sewers and join them. Being a member of the Order also meant that you were subject to its discipline.
William was subject to
her discipline.
And she would have disciplined him for the way he’d spoken to her before – but for Drusilla. She still maintained some of the ties to the old days - in part for her insane ‘granddaughter’ since she’d returned on that first errand for the lawyers. Back in the old days, she’d never been able to understand why Angelus had wanted to turn Dru. Driving her mad certainly she’d appreciated. He’d tortured her mind and her soul as lesser vampires would have tortured her body, definitely. But turning her… that had been all his idea and now she was glad that he had. Angelus was long gone and she would, otherwise, have been alone here – which she couldn’t bear for very long.
He’d created a work of art in Drusilla.
She was his legacy and her company. Almost as important to her as Angelus had been. She’d happily offer up Dru to save herself… but she didn’t want to. She’d offered Angelus to baying mobs in the past – he’d always understood because he’d done the same thing to her.
There was no ‘love’ between vampires. Just a mutual attraction. Love required a soul and Darla didn’t miss it at all. Her soul or ‘love.’ She’d never known it, even at her mother’s knee. Born as a whore’s child… she’d always got in the way of money making. Until she was old enough to make money for herself.
No, she’d never missed what she’d never known. She’d missed what had been taken from her Angelus though.
Damn gypsies. She was sure, when she passed through some of, and even beneath, the streets of Sunnydale, that she could smell them. They were here… somewhere. But when she’d sent her followers to enquire… nothing. No gypsies in Sunnydale. The names of the Clans were well known to her. She’d made very certain she’d known them and how each and how every Romany clan was connected to the hated Calderash. Where she found a part of a clan connected though the female line… She killed all the women. Just to make her point.
Other’s all the men.
When she couldn’t figure it out she’d used to slaughter them all.
At least there were no gypsies living the old life in Sunnydale. Not in the old ways. But there was one of their blood here in town, Darla was very sure of that. She’d never been able to get the stink of them out of her mind since the night they’d taken, abused and killed that sweet little gypsy girl – the favourite of her tribe. And she had been sweet. She’d never forget them for another reason though. The only creature that she’d ever valued nearly as much as herself had been ruined by them.
At least until Dru had become hers.
Angelus had been taken before he’d even had chance to see how his work of art – Drusilla – had turned out. Her darkness was deeper now than he had ever known it. Her madness was more complete. Her power more magnificent than ever it had been in his day. Dru, contrary to the static viewpoint of many vampires was definitely improving with age.
Like a fine wine.
If Drusilla had been a whisker saner than she was, then she would have been a threat to Darla. If that had been the case then she’d never have allowed her to stay around for that very reason – or attempted to use her as she was willing to. But now… now Dru was simply dangerous. A weapon that couldn’t easily be pointed or guided – but a weapon all the same.
And all of the Order knew it.
It had rankled a bit with her that they feared an upstart of less than two centuries more than they did she, but then she’d realised… it didn’t matter at all. Because Drusilla, for as long as she was here, was just what her ‘Grandmamma’ wanted her to be. A dark mirror of her will – even if it was a fairground mirror which was distorted. And she was fun to have around, too. As she’d learnt a century ago, though she’d disapproved of Drusilla then… but she’d always, and still, disapproved of that idiot who called himself ‘Spike.’
Perhaps she’d disapproved of Dru because of William? He’d been brought into their family so soon after Dru had been turned. And Angelus had indulged her – letting him stay. There had been no democracy in that group – but she couldn’t have resisted all three of them, which meant that William had stayed.
It had been interesting, she had to admit, to see how Drusilla’s selection had changed from mild mannered poet to demon inspired killer. It had been interesting for all of about three minutes. Neither she, nor Angelus, would have seen William as anything but a meal. He had made a fine vampire – when you wanted chaos. A fine vampire when he was away from her.
Drusilla had seen something else in him though – something she wanted. What it had been Darla had no idea. Perhaps Drusilla had detected some trait that would have transferred from the human to the demon – someone who would be devoted to her and follow her to the ends of the earth – or sanity. Whichever was the further away.
And then Angelus had been gone. Taken from them by the damned gypsies and their curse. That pesky soul was all that had led him to oppose the Master and ultimately meet his death. Oh… and when she found the gypsy in Sunnydale, then even Drusilla would stand back and applaud her originality as she tortured that filthy human to within an inch of death a hundred or maybe even a thousand times.
One inch and one day at a time. Some inches would be better than others. But she’d be patient… for that. To remember her old partner in eternity and to finish off that bit of business. No matter how unlikely, she didn’t want any gypsy curses interfering with what she, she and Drusilla had here. She was too close to being ready. Sunnydale had been primed for a while, taking up a lot of extra effort – but the rest of the South California had taken longer once she’d decided to try for parts of the North as well. But soon now, she and Dru would have everything they wanted. A Hellmouth to call their own for a start.
She, Drusilla and William. If it had to be... at least for now. She knew she’d find a way of reducing that from three to two.
But when Lucas approached her and whispered those magic words in her ear. She hadn’t hoped to hear them – it would have been too unbearable when it didn’t come to pass. Oh, they were so delicious… and she’d just been thinking about William, the dear, dead boy as well. Absolutely perfect. Almost poetic really in a way he might once, as a mortal, have appreciated. He was… gone. Truly dead.
The number of times over the past few days she’d bitten her tongue, literally bitten it to keep Drusilla on side, and now… he was gone without her having to do a thing. She hadn’t wanted to risk William taking Drusilla away from her – the insane vampire was far too powerful for her to let that happen. Drusilla had been destined to be hers as soon as she left the lawyers and came back to the fold.
William hadn’t ever been a part of that plan – not at all - but until she’d had full control of Drusilla, supplanted him in her ‘granddaughters’ affections it had been necessary to ‘respect’ his position.
Not any longer. Now she could be herself and she could have Dru all to herself too.
Her existence was, sometimes, a beautiful thing. She was certainly going to have to celebrate this. Once she’d gotten past the question of telling Dru what had happened and worrying about the reaction. It… well, she couldn’t believe her luck. This was the sort of thing that made it all worthwhile. The moments you could take satisfaction in something which you hadn’t expected.
Satisfying as it was, this wasn't a time to gloat though – not if she wanted to bring Drusilla even more firmly to her side. Handled right, this would make her unbalanced sister into her faithful servant – even in her less balanced moments. Perhaps even more than that. But handled badly…
Well, that wasn’t going to happen, was it? She wasn’t about to allow that. This was going to be the most important thing she had to do before she led her Order to claim this town.
She turned in the chair, primly, towards Drusilla who was playing with a set of eyeballs she’d obviously found somewhere in her travels. She was talking to them as if waiting for a reply. Such a sweet sight, almost cute. So, with the removal of those eyes from their owner’s head, a perfectly good hunt had been spoiled and the, now eyeless human, just turned into a bag of blood by that decision to pluck. She would have punished such waste in anyone else. Darla allowed some latitude to this vampire though. She’d have to allow even more now. She wouldn’t ever return Drusilla to sanity and she never wanted to anyway – no matter how trying she could sometimes be - but the others would have to understand that she was a special case and her example did not apply to them.
They pretty much understood that already, Darla was sure.
They couldn’t litter this place with snacks, like the Bronze had been, until they’d taken control of the town and they could afford such wastage. She wanted to revel in it, to be able to play without having to ask for humans to be delivered to her, but until then she would set an example. Even if Dru didn’t.
“Drusilla, honey, I have to talk to you,” she said. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to celebrate. There might even have been a dance within her, trying to get out. She wanted to pluck out a few eyeballs herself, maybe even tell them all about the end of that buffoon who called himself ‘Spike.’ But this… this was perfect. This
could be perfect. This could be everything she needed. Angelus was long, long gone… and Darla had to admit she was better when there was someone, someone who was almost her equal, with her to share the ecstasy of inflicting pain and of ruling the night.
It was strange how they’d all followed her example. She had been the Master’s. Angelus had been hers for over a hundred years. Drusilla, whom he had created, had sired William for her own reasons, and maybe they’d been the same as Darla’s for turning Angelus. Desire… physical desire, a kindred evil…
Now, perhaps, she and Dru… They could share each other’s existence for a while and perhaps even bring wider existence, the world as it were, to an end.
If the mood took them or they didn’t get what they wanted. She wasn’t overly keen on apocalypses but they had their place as opportunities of last resort. When she got bored. The Master had been planning one – at just the right time – for centuries. She’d always bought into the idea it
might be a good thing.
One night…
But even the Master had come to hold back from that when he had risen. The world was perfect for vampires now. People were out of their homes in the night. Feeding was easier. The demon within them wasn’t surrounded by religious conviction – a cross on every neck. No… Now the world was a place that might have been built for vampires.
Except Sunnydale – with its protectors.
Drusilla turned around, wide-eyed as if curious what could have made Darla pull her away from her new friends. In each hand, held up alongside her own eyes, was an eyeball. Occasionally, they turned to her as if they were whispering in her ears. Perhaps, to her they really were.
She was such a delicate flower… such a tribute to Angelus. His legacy was truly astounding – even if it was she who’d discovered the girl Drusilla had been and pointed her out to him. They’d enjoyed her sisters too. The blood of the virtuous was so sweet.
They’d had so much fear in them.
And it wasn’t just the blood that had been sweet…
“Yes, Grandmamma?”
“Honey, I’m afraid that something has happened to William,” Darla said gravely, despite the glee that filled her cold, dead heart. “Something bad.” So bad she almost had to laugh out loud. He’d been… the only words for it, apparently, were ‘blown up.’ Blown to pieces and within a few moments he’d have been blown to dust and all burnt up too. Lucas had only made it back to her because he’d been thrown into a pool of slime in a larger tunnel whilst avoiding being seen by the late, unlamented, William. She shuddered in sheer delight and tried to mask it as sorrow for Dru’s loss.
With a gesture she dismissed Lucas. His vile scent, his clothes covered in filth, offended her and spoiled her appreciation of the moment. When he returned he would be in a proper state to display the proper… sorrow. She was so glad she had sent him after William though.
Sorrow… Dru
really was hers now. It was an effort to avoid making some human celebratory gesture and suddenly she found she was aching for blood rushing past her lips.
“We know,” Drusilla told the eyeball in her left hand. “We saw it happen.”
“We did?” Darla was forced to ask. Taken aback. If Dru had known and now she wasn’t all upset… then… Was she the tool that Darla needed? Was this a good thing or a bad thing? A Dru compelled to seek revenge would have been powerful – but might have given them all away. A Dru without rage, accepting his fate… That hadn’t been what she had been planning for.
Swings and roundabouts. Upsides and downsides.
Which was better?
The right eyeball nodded as the hand tipped and Drusilla turned back to look at it. “We saw my Spike chasing the little girl and we saw him catch her. Spike always catches what he chases.”
Present tense… Could William still be alive? Had Lucas been mistaken – or overanxious to please her? No… Drusilla had said that he was
gone. Dru had actually said she knew something bad had happened. But what if he wasn’t gone? William was a survivor – she had to give him that. The way he’d behaved throughout his vampire existence a dozen Slayers should have tracked him down.
Instead he’d killed at least two of them.
And the girl… what of the girl that she’d given him? That had been the loose end. If the girl had escaped, no matter what had happened to William, then… then there was a problem. His discovery was one thing – but if someone escaped and revealed what had actually been happening here… No one could be allowed to escape and tell anyone - especially the witches - where they had escaped from. As soon as that happened, they would be forced to come out above ground and take the town. The only alternative would be to wait for the Witches here – and in all likelihood die here too. But they weren’t ready to ascend just yet. She’d planned that night thoroughly and she needed more. It shouldn’t have taken long but… she knew she needed more. More vampires. More demon ally’s to cause problems. More food to feed them. More weapons which would negate the Witch’s advantages. She’d had a military officer she’d taken from the local base advise her – before she’d tired of the woman’s officiousness and sent her to San Francisco where she could do a better job in infiltrating her former colleagues operations.
Darla knew that if she moved too quickly then she might have wasted all this time. She wasn't
just trying to kill the Witches. She was trying to take the entire town for her own, secure the Hellmouth and secure more food than they would ever need. The Master… He’d been unexpected. No one had really known the rules. That wouldn’t work this time. The Witches were here – hunting vampires every night. The people in town knew not to open their doors after dark.
Things were harder now. She needed more forces than the Master had dreamed of and she couldn’t move too soon. Not until she had what she needed. She’d already brought her plans forward – in her own mind at least – because of having Dru on her side. The power, along with the discipline fear of her brought to the Order. Perfect. The timetable couldn’t shift again – unless there was no other choice. A matter of weeks was all that was needed.
“My Spike always catches what he’s chasing,” Dru repeated – a little sadder this time.
Not anymore, Darla thought, finding a place inside her to hide away the thrill that all this had given her. Yes, there were worries – but this was something she’d wanted for more than a quarter of her existence. She’d have to bury her elation very deeply to hide it from Dru, who knew her so well. She had to admit that she’d been afraid of Drusilla’s reaction, but… this was too far the other way for comfort. Another worry she could do without. Why wasn’t Drusilla angry? Why wasn't she raging? Why wasn't she trying to kill everyone around her for whatever reason her mad brain could dream up? No one to bring her dollies or something?
“She’s dead then?” Darla asked carefully, referring to the girl. Her followers – literally following William everywhere that he’d gone – hadn’t been able to say for certain. It seemed like a good thing now that Lucas hadn’t seen the ‘how’ of his destruction. Just the ‘where’ and the ‘when.’ Lucas was one of the more promising of her creations. If he could avoid aggravating her for a few decades he could be very powerful. Having him fried too wouldn’t have been helpful.
This she certainly wanted to know – but the girl was the concern. Where was she? Dead with William?
Ordinarily, William’s destruction would have been more than enough for her – auspicious even – but not when there was a human involved. She needed more than that. She needed to know that the truth about what existed beneath Sunnydale wasn’t going to come out before she was ready to come out for herself. There was a party she had planned – it would be a shame to spoil the surprise. When they were ready, as the Master had been ready, this whole town – much of the state – would be hers.
All in one night.
William, in her mind, would have been perfect. As bait – or a distraction - should something have gone wrong. If they’d been discovered then she could have set him up as the leader of a small group – perhaps the most useless ten members of the Order she had – which could be tracked and destroyed by the Witches. That would have left the bulk of her forces intact and the Witches happy that they’d been able to destroy a nest. His loss didn’t bother her – but if only he’d stuck around long enough to act baity when required.
He might even have survived it – to keep Dru happy she’d have allowed that.
Without William to distract the Witches, then she had another slight problem – who to give to them if the girl had escaped or they knew what was going on? Even if she had hoped that they would succeed in killing William eventually, this was inconvenient
now. She so wanted to hunt freely in the world outside. To get out of this dirty, filthy place and to have a big window looking out over a world that would either be hers or one she could destroy at a whim…
Before the world ended though, she would deal with any gypsies in this town. She’d take over and have every one of them brought to her. Once she’d had that pleasure… then she might choose to end the world. Such was the benefit of having a Hellmouth of her very own. Angelus had called her ‘spiteful’ more than once. Even he’d had no idea how deep that went because for some reason he’d never invoked it in her. The soul had never been his fault. Killing ‘Angel’ would have been a blessing to the tortured vampire.
So she’d left him to his human feelings and misery.
Her spite was the one human quality she’d been proud to retain though.
If, though, the girl had escaped then the Witches would know there was a vampire nest, at least one, in town. She might still have to given them some of her Order… to preserve the rest of them. Without Spike to act as the obvious power that was guiding them it would be harder to ensure they were convinced.
The Watcher, especially, would have to be convinced by whoever the leader was supposed to be. Leading vampires took power and a certain degree of charisma – whether that came from genuine inspiration or from fear. Mentally she started to think through who in the Order had the requisite attributes and was expendable to the cause.
Or a threat to her in the future.
As she thought about it she looked at Drusilla, still in conversation with the eyeballs. She was the most obvious candidate on one level. She could have given Dru to the Witches and been sure they’d never look beyond the sacrifice for anyone else. Drusilla was notorious in her own way. But somehow… that wasn’t something that she thought would give her the advantage in the longer term. After all, she and Drusilla could wait until the Witches had died of old age if they really had to.
Not that she wanted to stay underground for that that long. She didn’t want to be underground
now. Maybe… maybe the lawyers in L.A. would still have something for her, some way of dealing with the Witches. The idea turned her stomach - begging for help after her posture of disdain. They had offered her the tool already though. And if she asked then they would be gracious enough to make her actions seem respectable even though it was still begging - but they might have what she needed. They’d already offered, but the price had always seemed too high.
Her original plan would still work – but the losses would be huge, too huge to rush anything unless she had to.
The problem was that she didn’t
know whether there was even a threat. If the girl was still alive or not. If she was then she could even leave town without saying a word to anyone. It depended how much fear was within her. Every one of her captives in the blood cages was from outside Sunnydale. Human’s were weak – they craved the place and the people they belonged to. She might just leave to go home.
Abruptly, Drusilla turned away from the eyeballs, one of which was now speared on her index finger as she gently squeezed the other one, testing its capacity to withstand pressure. A capacity in Drusilla herself that Darla was both impressed and worried by as she examined those long, slim fingers with interest.
Why wasn't Dru reacting to Spike’s destruction?
Was he really dead? Dru would know…
But Lucas had said that he’d been seen disintegrating – admittedly at a distance. Even if that weren’t as final as it should have been… There was a possibility his destruction didn’t have to be final – at least not for those that knew some of the secrets… which at least one of the Witches did… but for Spike it would be very, very final.
There were ways, which one Witch knew all about, to bring a vampire back. But… Dru had never spent enough time with the Master to discover any of those. So there was only Darla herself who
would possibly use the knowledge and Darla knew she was much better off without him – because now Drusilla was hers to use as she was needed. She wouldn’t have dreamed of trying to bring him back even if she could have found the means to do it. It sounded as if his bones were already dust. He hadn’t been old enough to leave a skeleton. So very few vampires were... Darla wasn’t even sure about herself. There might be other ways, but Darla was damned if she was going to find one that might work.
Not even for Dru.
Drusilla, finally, had come back to the Order she’d never really been a part of before. She might have been the lawyer’s intermediary, but now she
belonged to the Order. And the Order belonged to Darla. Drusilla would be the one vampire that she could ever trust. Not even Angelus had truly gained her trust.
Drusilla though… she wouldn’t want power if it was dripping in warm blood. And Darla intended to make sure that it was. Drusilla’s wants weren’t necessarily easy to satisfy – but they weren’t going to interfere with the new Order that they would impose on the world of the undead. Together. They could do that together. It would be good to have someone to share a small part of eternity with again. It had been too long without someone to pay the right kind of attention to her.
Dru would more than just do. They’d have all sorts of good times together.
“Who’s dead?” Drusilla asked as if she hadn’t just confirmed it.
“William is dead,” Darla confirmed. “What about the girl?”
“No, not the other. She isn’t dead at all. She runs like a deer. She runs and runs and runs. She’ll run all the way to the stars if they let her but never hears her feet. She’ll run-”
“The human is
alive?” Darla interrupted urgently. That was serious. That wasn’t good at all – speculation was one thing. The confirmation was something else. Couldn’t that idiot ‘Spike’ kill a little girl without messing it up? He’d killed, in the past, people she’d never wanted him to – at least not until she’d had what she wanted from them. She needed to hear that the girl was dead – right now. She’d even trust a vision for reassurance.
Or at least she wanted to.
They weren’t anywhere near ready to take on the Witches. William was supposed to have bought them time, if necessary – taking the focus away from the reality and switching it towards the mayhem he would have caused. Mayhem was one thing she was sure William could have managed. And he got killed before she could even set him loose to provide the distraction.
“She’s running. She still hasn’t stopped.”
The girl was alive. Dru knew it and now so did she.
The girl was out there. With the Witches? Was she with the Witches? Would the Witches find her? Would she find the Witches? What were the Witches doing? What did they know?
Darla hated questions when there was no one to torture for answers. She might just have to torture someone for fun, ask then the questions they would have no answer to.
Why wasn't Drusilla in a rage? And then, finally, she did react. Reaction was good – it removed the uncertainty.
“My Spike was running after her…” Drusilla said quietly and she actually started to cry.
Darla found herself, for the first time in either her life, or her unlife, having to comfort someone. And she didn’t like it at all. She knew the words though. She’d heard mothers try to reassure their children whilst she’d ripped the father’s throat out – saving the more tender morsels for later. “There, there,” she said awkwardly and tried to stroke the long dark hair as Drusilla’s head rested on her knee.
She gestured to the swiftly returned Lucas and beckoned him over as she rested her hand on the back of Drusilla’s head. With an instinctive appreciation of the time that was available to her followers before the sun rose, she knew that they wouldn’t have chance to search for very long before they couldn’t leave the shadows because of the cursed sun.
However, not very long might be long enough.
“Go out there, find the girl. Kill her. And if you don’t find her before sunrise, then you go out again tomorrow. And the night after and the night after that. Until she is found, you go out. Kill anyone she talks to as well. But no feeding up there. You can’t give us away now, Lucas.”
They couldn’t be given away now, not so close – Lucas was intelligent enough to understand why. He might even do as a sacrificial substitute for William if the time ever came.
Darla looked down at Drusilla who seemed to have perked up at the idea of killing. She’d stopped blubbering in one of the sudden mood changes that typified her. It wasn't like there was a soul to satisfy, now was there?
“Then, my dear, we’ll make sure that we find a way to go out there and hurt the humans that have hurt our family.” Gypsies. Little girls. Witches. All of them.
The tears were gone. There was just the grin of the wolf on Drusilla’s lips.
Now that was Darla’s girl.
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He didn’t know what Darla was thinking, Lucas mused, as he patrolled the streets of Sunnydale. He’d only seen the girl from a distance for a few short moments before she’d been released, but Darla hadn’t cared about that. She’d sent him to the girl’s former cell and he’d found something that carried her scent – but he wasn't some damn bloodhound. Darla hadn’t cared about that either. Having her scent would do him no good until he caught up with the girl – to confirm that it was her – and he would have to confirm it if he wasn’t allowed to kill anyone who was uninvolved.
It wasn't like he was bothered how many humans he’d kill before he found the right one – but they were still supposed to be keeping a low profile. Darla
did care about that. It was, after all, why he’d been sent out here to find the kid. Couldn’t do the low profile thing if he massacred every kid in the town now could he?
Coming out, he’d actually been relishing the challenge. It was a chance – finally – to impress his sire and worm his way further into her trust. He’d
chosen to stay here, with Darla, the Mistress of the Order. She’d been willing to send him out – to take his own town and rule it by night. She’d offered him that. But it would have been just that. A town. Nothing special about it. Not a vast city like LA. Not an economically important area like Silicon Valley. Just a town which would be expected to feed the growing numbers of vampires in Sunnydale.
Better being a servant on the Hellmouth than a farmer in a nothing town. So he’d chosen to stay. The hunting was okay in the tunnels – there was food sent from the Order’s other strongholds. He’d been quietly impressing Darla. She was against favourites… but he thought that he was one anyway. With the end of Jose at Drusilla’s hands, there weren’t many who could think of themselves as a favourite.
When Drusilla had arrived, as the messenger for the L.A. lawyers, he had sensed something different. The… mmmn… he liked to think of her as a dark goddess. He thought he’d heard the description somewhere. She’d made it clear she was sticking around. He liked that… really liked that. He’d flirted with her and she’d almost ripped his ears off. He liked a woman like that. Besides, she was unstable. She might have spent all her time with Darla, limiting his own chances to impress, but she wasn't going to take over any of the tasks that he performed – the jobs that had made him trusted by Darla.
Trusted to be the one who would help keep the secrets of the Order.
He came out of the alley. Still nothing. The girl was… well, she wasn’t where he thought she might be. She didn’t know Sunnydale – and she didn’t know that there were places that you just didn’t go in a town like this. By night at least.
He should have been able to track her – but she’d had such a head start she could have been anywhere. She wasn’t in the shelters. She wasn’t in the most obvious alleys with the secluded doorways and a good supply of cardboard to sleep on. She hadn’t caught a bus and there were no trains running at night.
Where the hell would a lonely girl, in trouble, go for protection?
Oh… right… there. If she was stupid.
*****************************
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If I want a little pussy, I got my own to play with.
Chance in
Chance.------------------------
by TexanZeppo256 » Fri Jul 11, 2003 5:13 am 
)
just a teensy bit over-kill, eh? 
.
