The Whirlwind, Part Two - Return of
the Native (Chapter 1)
By Mistress Ace (rosewood@inreach.com) & Prophecy (prophecy_gurl@yahoo.com)
RATING: Strong NC-17
CONTENT: Language, violence, sex - consensual and non, incest, torture. WARNING - This is
very, very dark.
DISTRIBUTION: Finnatics, Angelus/Darla list. All others please ask.
DISCLAIMER: This story is not in any way intended to infringe on copyrights held by Joss
Whedon, David Greenwalt, Mutant Enemy or AOL Time Warner.
AUTHORS' NOTES: This is a sequel to `Ave Maria' - which you can read at
http://www.geocities.com/prophecy_gurl/fic/maria.html
SUMMARY: After dispatching the slayer in Italy, Darla and Angelus discover the new girl is
a little closer to home...
FEEDBACK: Send to both authors, please! We're dying to know what you guys make of this
one!
The Whirlwind
Return of the Native - Chapter 1
Darla removed her hat and heavy cape and handed them to her maid. The wind outside was strong and quite bitterly cold. One advantage to being undead was the lack of concern at extremities of temperature, but the fire burning in the grate was welcome nonetheless.
She sank into the easy chair, a contemplative smile curving the corners of her lips as the memory of her boy at the festivities replayed in her mind... Quite the toast of Bavaria...
"Mistress?" The housekeeper bobbed a curtsy.
"What is it, Elise?" Darla's gaze left the fire.
"This was delivered for you, Ma'am...
while you were out." The staff here had been well trained by the owner of the estate
not to notice the odd habits of the guests. The owner was an old friend of
Darla's - currently away in Prussia. So Darla and Angelus occupied the estate in his
absence.
Darla took the letter, curiously, dismissed the woman and curled up to read.
Angelus wandered into the room, wiping his
lips with a pristine handkerchief. The bright blood stained the cloth dark red, a red
which matched his perfectly tailored frock coat. He nodded to his
sire before dropping into a chair.
His boots were muddy, mute evidence of his recent hunt. An errant hand ran through his disarrayed locks and he tilted his head toward her. "What are you readin', darlin?"
"Oh, just a letter..." she tucked it into the bodice of her dress, and leaned her elbow on the arm of the chair before resting her face in her hand. "Darling, how would you fancy a trip back to Galway?"
His eyes lit up and a broad smile graced his angelic face. "Galway, is it? I could do with a trip home. The women here are... Well, they're nowhere near as sweet on the tongue as a good Irish lass."
Angelus leaned forward and looked into her lovely eyes. "But why would you be wantin' to travel back to the backwoods? I thought you hated that place?"
"I do... Passionately..." Darla told him with zeal. "But I'm told it just got a lot more interesting..."
She held out her hand to him, "What would you say if I told you that your hometown is host to the new Slayer?"
Angelus smiled. It was a very cold, calculating smile that did not reach his eyes in the least. "Then I would say this native needs to rediscover his roots."
He knelt in front of his sire, his finger playing with the lacings of her gown. "So where would you be gettin' information on the risin' o' the next Slayer, love?"
"My letter..." she smiled at him,
bending forward to kiss him. She could smell another woman on him and her eyes narrowed
slightly. "You don't expect me to reveal all my sources, now do you,
precious?"
Angelus leaned in closer, his lips inches
from her. He'd had several women that night, had bedded each of them and killed them while
in the throes of passion. But he still desired her above all
others. "The only thing I'm expectin' you to reveal to me is that sweet form o'
yours, darlin'. What say we take this somewhere more private?"
She chuckled - he was finally adapting to
having the human servants around. It was useful for the help to be able to move around in
daylight. "I'd say that sounds like a wonderful idea..." She held
out her left hand in a 'help me to my feet' gesture, her right removing the letter from
her bodice and casting it down on the table beside her chair.
Angelus gave her his hand and swept her into his arms for a deep kiss. While he pulled her body close to his own with one hand, the other purloined the missive and tucked it into his coat. He had his ways of working around her.
The dark-haired vampire kissed his sire's
neck, then lifted her bodily, carrying her out of the room and up the stairs to their
curtained bed. There they would while away the hours, locked in a
carnal embrace until the next sunset....
******
Angelus watched the girl from the shadows. She was good, very, very good. Faster and much more deadly than the little Italian if such a thing was possible. This one would be a challenge indeed.
She was tall, almost his height with flowing deep auburn hair. Something about her face was so very familiar, like a dream half remembered. He'd known her in his mortal life...
"Are ye going to just hide in the
shadows again all night?" Colleen gripped her favored axe firmly in her right hand.
This particular vampire had been following her for the last few nights... always
disappearing before she had the chance to call on him.
Angelus was taken aback. She knew he was there, Darla had said some Slayers could sense them. He spoke softly, not revealing his location. "The shadows are where I belong..."
She whirled to the sound of his voice. "You belong w' the devil, monster... Come fight... I'll send ya there..."
Angelus drew in a startled gasp. He did know her, this was his cousin, his cousin Colleen who had been sent away so many years ago. How appalling that she be the new Slayer... yet how delicious. "Some other time, Slayer... Some other time."
"Cowardly as well, hellspawn?" Colleen shot at the figure in the shadows... trying to place where it was. She loathed being followed the way this creature had been doing... Simon would never have stood for it... His crossbow would have pegged the creature right off...
Angelus dodged the bolt easily, as it was wide and to the left. But he had to admire her for taking the shot; she'd always been a feisty little thing. When the body he wore had been known as Liam, the two of them had been inseparable from the moment of her birth.
She'd been born on his tenth birthday and he'd called her his present from that day forward. He taught her to read when most girls were illiterate, had taught her to ride, to climb trees, to fish and to hunt. Colleen had been his shadow until their birthday, his 20th and her 10th. On that day a strange man, an Englishman had come to their village and had taken her away...
Strange to now see her as a full-grown woman, with all of the lush curves that he admired in the female form. Angelus licked his lips, this was going to be fun...
She blew the auburn bangs from her eyes and cursed herself, and her inferior aim. She had to be better than this! Was it in that alley or the next one? She advanced slowly, feeling the creature out... if it wasn't going to come to her, well then she'd find it!
"Oh, come play... skulkin' in the
shadows is no fun..." Not for the first time, Colleen found herself wondering if she
were younger, would she be a better Slayer? If Simon were still around would he be
proud or disgusted at her? She certainly tried to train every day as he'd taught her...
but was it really enough?
"Maybe not fun for you, but for me it
has it's appeal, darlin'..." His voice was soft and velvety, as thick as the night
fog which surrounded them. She was close enough to him that he could smell her,
could hear all that powerful blood pumping through her veins. His fangs ached for a taste
of it, for a taste of her.
Angelus faded into the night, moving through the shadows away from Colleen. He needed to plan, needed to think about how he could get to her. She was no naive little girl; this was a woman grown... Still virginal, but a woman nonetheless.
Gone again! What was this demon planning? Leaving the streets, she entered the churchyard for the dual purpose of a sweep and to visit her family and her Watcher. After checking for fledglings, Colleen crossed herself and knelt by the graves, praying in a mix of the Gaelic she remembered from her youth, the Latin from mass and the English 'Orangeman's prayers' Simon used to say that she'd learned.
Angelus kept his distance, making sure he was not close enough for her to sense him anymore. He noted the graves and wondered who lay beneath those hastily erected stones. Probably his bastard of a father and all the rest of his kith and kin. He'd killed them all, all except this one last member...
And he planned on killing her as well...
Crossing herself again, Colleen slipped her rosary back around her throat and tucked the small cross into her chemise. She dusted the dirt off her skirts, slung the crossbow back over her shoulder, picked up her axe and headed to the next churchyard, not looking back.
The new Watcher was supposed to arrive
tonight - a fact which didn't please her much at all. It seemed... disrespectful to Simon
- and she truly doubted she could tolerate another pontificating
Englishman.
******
Colin Francis Brody looked down at his timepiece, then at the coachman who was diligently trying to repair the broken wheel. This was his third delay in the long journey from London to Galway. A new Slayer had risen there a few months before and the Council, with a stroke of genius they had never been known to show in the past, had chosen a fellow countryman to be her new watcher.
He'd trained for this particular job for most of his life... Admittedly that had been a scant two-score and four years but that didn't mean he wasn't ready for the challenge. Colin's family had intended him for the priesthood when they sent him to Oxford but the Council had found him instead. There were a few moments when he regretted his change of profession... this was one of them.
"Hurry up, man... I have an urgent appointment in Galway..." He strode over to the broken wheel and looked down at the coachman. Colin was once more made aware of his own immense size in contrast to most Irishmen. At well over six foot, he normally towered over everyone around him. But unlike most big men, he was not in the least ungainly, he moved with an easy grace, utterly comfortable in his own skin.
"Galway, is it?" The coachman
looked up at him, alarmed. "What would you be wanting there, Sir? 'Tis a dreadful
haunted place... They say that demons laid waste to the town and danced in the
streets... No one goes to Galway willingly, sir..."
"There's a young woman waiting for me there... Let me help ye with that..." Colin put his back into lifting the coach a little so the man could slip the new wheel into place. "And about the demons in the street... Just an old wives' tale, meant for frightening children."
The coachman nodded his gratitude for the
assistance and screwed the hubcap into place. "Sir, I'd rather be believin' the old
wives' tales an' be proved wrong, than disbelievin' and meet me Maker
because o' it."
Colin nodded slowly in agreement, grateful that the older man had no idea how true his words were in this case. Galway was the site of the worst vampire attack in history. It was fitting that a Slayer would rise like a phoenix out of its ashes.
Pity the girl was so old, she wouldn't last very long... The older ones never did. The young ones had a chance; their bodies were still agile, still capable of the acrobatics required to slay vampires. The older ones tended to be more cunning... Maybe this Colleen O'Shea would prove him wrong...
He wasn't going to make it there in time today and it was far too dangerous to travel at night. Tomorrow would be soon enough to meet the girl whose life and death was his destiny to command.