Coming Home, a BtVS/Criminal Minds Crossover
Disclaimer: I own only the idea, and a few characters I created. The rest belong to the Powers that Be, AKA, Joss Whedon, Mark Gordon, and CBS. Also, I have taken quite a few liberties with Whedon's idea of vampires in order to create my main villains, and a few with JJ's job at the Pentagon. As episode 200 hadn’t yet aired when I began this, I guessed that I could get away with that.
Also, I wanted to offer thanks to a fellow author who posts on this site, for inspiring part of this story. Crunchysunrises also wrote a story about the BAU suspecting Buffy of being a serial killer. I’ve tried to keep my story original, though a couple of scenes do mirror Crunchy’s writings. I tried my best to make those parts that were similar to Crunchysunrises’s unique, so they weren’t copying their writing. However, I still feel it appropriate to thank Crunchy for the inspiration. I Also asked Crunchy if it was okay to write a similarly themed story to hers and she said it was fine.
Now, I wanted to explain this story’s concept. I have often asked myself when I combine my other favorite shows with the Buffy universe, who from those shows would make the best vampire. Some might say that those who are already evil, would make the best member of the undead community. I however, disagree. I believe that those who are good, just people, would likely make the most savage, sadistic vampires. This is because those who were good would likely want to destroy their human soul’s legacy after they were turned.
Completely unaware of the world of the supernatural, the agents of the BAU unknowingly become the targets of Lilith, the Vampire Queen, and two turned former agents, who are determined to destroy everything about their old life. Confronted with the murders of a number of their former colleagues, the agents of the BAU suspect that the believed Hemery High Vampire Killer, Buffy Summers, has resurfaced and gone on the offensive against them, not realizing that Buffy is perhaps the only hope they have of surviving the attack being committed upon them.
Sunnydale, California, November 8th, 2000
Buffy was annoyed that she was being watched as she pounded the hell out of a group of young vampires on the edge of one of the city’s 14 cemeteries. She hated to play to an audience. She had been using the time as a stress reliever. With the seriousness of Glory's presence in town, searching for the fabled Key which was currently hidden in the form of her little sister, and the fact that her mother had only recently been diagnosed with a brain tumor and would soon have to have surgery to remove it, the legendary vampire slayer was close to having a fit. One part of her wanted to curl into a little ball like a baby and block out the whole world, and the other wanted to hunt down and clobber every member of the demon community in the city in one night.
Her observer had so far kept his distance, simply watching as she kicked, punched, and downright pummeled every vampire that had dared show its face in her vicinity. But that didn't mean he wasn't aware that she knew of his presence. He was simply being respectful, observing her interactions with the newest members of vampire society, and likely assessing her behavior, her mannerisms, everything about her. It was his job to analyze such things, if he was truly who she thought her was.
The last time she'd seen this particular man was just after she'd been arrested on suspicion of burning down the gymnasium at Hemery High, in Los Angeles. Someone had suggested to the cops investigating the incident, that it was connected to all the murders that had been committed in the district; murders that she had known were actually perpetrated by the vampire, Lothos, and his pack. And someone had suggested that she was one of those murderers. Likely, Wolfram and Hart, now that she knew from Angel and Cordy about the firm's dedication to protecting all things demonic.
The police in L.A. had jumped on that, calling in experts from the famed Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia, to investigate the case, hoping to find evidence that they could use to force a confession out of her with. They'd sent three agents, though as far as they knew, she'd only been aware of two. Two older, experienced agents, and one fresh member of their unit. The two she'd met with had questioned her at length, doing everything they could to trip her up so she'd admit to the crimes she was accused of, while the third had remained on the other side of the two-way mirror, observing the interrogation. Buffy had felt certain she wasn't supposed to know he was there, so she'd pretended that her slayer senses hadn't given her the ability to see beyond the mirror's illusion, and had simply focused on the pair before her, who'd been in the middle of a good cop/bad cop routine.
It had taken her all of ten seconds to deduce that they knew absolutely nothing about what had truly happened, and that they had no concrete evidence that she was involved in any crime what so ever. At one point, a comment from the younger agent had actually sent her into a laughing fit because he had suggested that he and his fellow agent knew her better than she did. That was when she'd gone from being somewhat scared of the pair, to thinking that both were nothing more than a couple of clueless idiots. Not that she could really blame them for not knowing about the, other side of life.
She had actually been glad that her first inclination had been laughter then. Had they interviewed her a few weeks before, just after Merrick had been killed protecting her from Lothos, she probably would have responded in anger. She could now easily picture her younger self snapping because of all the pressure she had been under then, and actually putting the younger agent straight through the plaster wall. That would have surely taken the arrogant belief that he understood what she was right out of him. Despite his tough persona, the slayer in her was quite convinced that she could have made him piss himself, though it probably would have taken some effort. Most tough guys she'd run into over the years just couldn't handle the fact that she, the dainty appearing young woman she was, could bench press a car.
'Thank god I didn't turn into Faith,' she thought to herself as she spun, landing a powerful kick into the chest of the young vampire in front of her, sending him flying back more than twenty feet. He landed against a stone monument to some dead guy, built more than a century ago, then fell to the ground. Immediately, the creature had sprung to his feet, staring at her with absolute fear in its eyes.
Feeling a little reckless, Buffy motioned for him to come at her again, knowing he was not even a tiny bit a match for her. Hell, Xander could probably take this one with one hand. However, the young vamp didn't even try to attack again. Instead, he turned and fled.
"Now that's disappointing," Buffy said aloud to no one in particular.
Chuckling from behind her drew her attention to the man who'd been watching her. Immediately, her hands went to her hips and she gave him a cross look.
"You know, it isn’t polite, or smart, to sneak up on people," she scolded, assessing her observer. "Especially around here."
"I've noticed," he commented, before motioning in the direction the fledgling had run off. "Aren't you going to go after him?"
"I know where he and his, 'family', live," she said confidently. "I'll just drop in on them with some milk and cookies, before I head home tonight."
There was a pause in the conversation, as the two simply watched each other. But Buffy, as impatient as she was, couldn't stand the silence for long.
"So you hear to arrest me, again?" she asked him conversationally, in no way feeling threatened by him. In fact, if he was to guess, she sounded amused by the idea.
"No," he assured her, moving to sit on a stone bench nearby. "I've simply been asked to observe you, get a feel for your behavior, your mental state, and then write a report for the Pentagon, regarding my findings."
"Damned Initiative," Buffy hissed, sitting upon a large headstone. "First they try to kill me, and now they're determined to drive me nuts."
"I doubt that's what they intend," the agent before her denied, frowning at her for her apparent disrespect for the person buried in the grave she sat upon. Seeing this, she quickly informed him of the facts.
"This grave's empty," she told him. "The guy in it rose last week, and I've already taken care of him."
He nodded, almost imperceptibly, keeping his face for the most part blank. But Buffy could read the discomfort in his eyes.
"Did they bother to warn you about all this, before they sent you out into this nightmare?" she asked him bluntly.
"They did," he answered her. "But it’s still a bit different, seeing it all for yourself."
"I here you," Buffy agreed, recalling her first introduction into the supernatural world. "One thing to say there are things worse than human monsters out there. Quite another to have to go out and hunt them every night."
"Do you choose to do this?" the man before her asked, sounding curious.
"No," Buffy told him. "I was chosen to do this. Girls like me, we don't get a choice. We live the majority of our lives like your average Joe, and then, one day, we're knocking down walls, chasing after monsters, and ramming little sharpened pieces of wood through the hearts of the undead. After that, we eat, drink, and sleep demons, and EW, did I really just say it like that?"
The man smiled, finding her reaction to her own words as amusing. Then he sobered.
"You've been doing this since you were fifteen," he stated, not asked. "What you do, is the reason you burned down the school gym in LA."
"Hypothetically speaking," she admitted in the only way she could. "Hypothetically, let's say a girl like me is being chased by some wacko nut, who just so happens to belong to a race of creatures that, were you to tell anyone existed, they'd call you ten kinds of nutso and lock you in a hospital. He's hard to kill, and you can't exactly outrun him, cause as something that's been alive for a few centuries, he has a patience that rivals that of a turtle, or some other really slow thing that's never in a hurry. And he's promised to chase you to the ends of the Earth because destiny says you belong together."
"You had no one you could ask for help?" the agent asked, leaning forward.
"There were people I did go to, but they never believed me," Buffy said, sadness filling her voice. "And why should they have? It ain't like vampires advertise their existence anymore. And the one person who did know, who was tasked with helping, ended up being killed by the very thing searching for me. He died protecting me, something that his bosses said was a complete waste."
"Your life isn't a waste," the agent informed her quite passionately. However, she wasn't convinced.
"In a way, it is," Buffy argued. "Cause when I die, another girl just like me, will be called to take my place. That's the way it’s always been. There's no cushy retirement package in my future. I'll be lucky if I actually stay dead when I die. Vamps like to turn girls like me. They think it’s funny."
"Maybe that's how it’s supposed to work," the agent said, still sounding like he wasn't convinced, "but it doesn't have to work that way. There are always things in this world worth fighting for."
Buffy nodded, agreeing with that, at least. Fighting to keep her mom, her sister, and her friends alive, was really the only reason she was still kicking. However, she feared the day when not even that would be enough. Being the slayer was so tiring some times.
Deciding to push those depressing thought from her mind for now, Buffy refocused on the FBI agent before her.
"So Agent...." she trailed off, not sure of his name.
"Jason," he told her, giving her a gentle smile. "Jason Gideon."
Smiling in return, Buffy formally introduced herself.
"Buffy Summers," she told him. "But I guess you knew that. Anyway, what ever happened to those buddies of yours? The ones who interviewed me, while you watched from the other side of that two-way thing. Agents Hatchett and Ross, or something like that."
Chuckling, he answered.
"Agents Hotchner, and Rossi," he corrected.
"Sorry," she apologized. "I suck at names."
"Its fine," he assured her, still smiling. "Agent Rossi retired at the end of '98. He writes books and gives lectures across the country now. He's the reason the BAU is so well known. Agent Hotchner is my second in command at the BAU now. He leads one of other teams."
"And I bet both are still convinced I'm the Hemery High Vampire Killer?" Buffy told him.
"You're probably right," Gideon concurred, remembering how neither of his fellow agents had agreed with his assessment of Buffy being innocent, and was more likely one of the killer’s intended victims. One he had likely underestimated.
"Did you believe that?" she asked, curious as to how he'd seen her back then.
"No," he told her confidently. "I was quite certain that the offender or offenders were male. I interpreted your behavior then as being that of someone who had either been a targeted victim who'd managed to somehow elude the attacker, or someone who feared being targeted. I also was quite certain, that you were convinced that no one could help you."
"No one really could have," Buffy told him. "He was very determined. And those he killed, my friends and classmates. All that was just his efforts to wear me down. Make me just give up. That's why he came after me at the dance. He thought if he killed the rest of my loved ones in front of me, I would just surrender."
"But you played him." It wasn't a question.
"Well, just because I'm blonde, doesn't mean I am a complete air-head," she acknowledged. "I was ready for him. I made sure nobody else would get hurt and then I took him and his cronies out. Or, hypothetically, I did."
"You don't need to worry," Gideon assured her. "My superiors aren't interested in punishing you for any past offenses of a, somewhat, illegal nature. If they were, I doubt I'd be here. Apparently, they're aware that trying to put you and those you deal with into a simple black-and-white category, is a useless gesture."
"'Bout time they figured that out," Buffy griped. "Only took one of their own trying to destroy the world, and rebuild it in her image to figure that out."
Gideon raised his eyebrow at that, but didn't ask what she meant.
Though she could tell he was curious, he didn't pry, and that fact alone earned him a lot of respect in Buffy's book. Something that was very hard to do now a days. She was willing to wager that had someone like him been running the Initiative when it first began, instead of Maggie Walsh, the admitted, 'Evil Bitch Monster of Death', perhaps the government's anti-demon campaign wouldn't have become the disaster it had.
"Anyways," Buffy chose to continue where she'd left off. "After you three left LA to hunt for more of the creeps you usually do, the police basically dropped things. My folks split for good and Mom used her divorce settlement to move us here. Thought that move would get me out of the demon business, and I'd be able to go back to that 'normal' life I'd been leading before all that crap with Lothos happened. At least until a body was found in the girl's locker room on my first day at Sunnyhell High, complete with two neat little holes in the side of his neck, making it very clear what his cause of death was."
"What did you do when that happened?" Gideon asked, finally leaning back against the bench.
"Went straight to the guy who had been sent to take the place of my old demon-fighting instructor, and told him under no circumstances was I being pulled into this crap again. Guess you can figure how well that turned out," Buffy explained, before adding. "Can't fight destiny after all. Especially when your mom's moved you to a town that happens to sit atop the mouth of hell."
"The Mouth of Hell?" he questioned.
"Sunnydale might not look it, but its seedier side would probably curl the hair on a bald man," Buffy said, before she realized what she'd said. "And that's a really dumb way to explain that."
"I understand your meaning," he assured her, his smile returning. "Although I have to agree. That wasn't one of your better lines."
"Glad we agree on that," she said with a light chuckle. "And back to that mouth of hell thing, Sunnydale was built on top of a gateway, or entrance to a very violent, alternate dimension. It would basically be like hell, to we of the human variety. Hence the name, the Hellmouth."
"And you fight to keep the creatures that escape into our world through that gateway from ever causing any harm to the world," he concluded, understanding in his voice.
"Exactly," she confirmed, her tone surprisingly meek, showing him her true age, where nothing in her demeanor so far had.
Buffy Summers was used to playing it tough. She lived a hard life and did an extremely dangerous job, that as far as Gideon was concerned, she should never have been force into. He'd known she was strong the moment he'd laid eyes on her through the window of the interrogation room in LA. And how she had quickly deduced Hotch and Rossi's tactics during their interview of her, had shown that she wasn't some unintelligent valley girl who expected daddy to rush in and bail her out. In fact, she hadn't even asked for her parents. She'd just assumed she'd be better off facing the BAU alone. And he couldn't blame her for thinking that. Her parents had seemed more concerned by what her behavior would do to their image, than acknowledging what Gideon had decided was the cause of it. They didn't believe their daughter was being stalked by someone, as Gideon himself had deduced. They just believed she'd wanted to embarrass them by hanging out with lowlifes like her boyfriend, Pike, and vandalizing school property, simply because she wanted attention.
"Does your mother know now," Gideon felt compelled to ask her, remembering the pained gaze Buffy had had that night as she watched her parents get into a full blown argument, right in front of the police station, "what exactly you do each night?"
"Yeah," she confirmed, looking away. This told Gideon that it was a painful topic for her. "She found out the hard way."
Seeing he'd touched a sore spot, he decided to change topics.
"Who else knows?" It was something the military wanted to know. They wanted badly to know how much this young woman had leaked to others.
"Just a few friends from school who help out with the research side of my job, a lot," Buffy informed him, suspecting that this was something the agent's bosses wanted the answers to. "And the guy who taught me a bunch of different fighting techniques. Oh, and my little sister. She actually found out before anyone else. Saw me stake a vamp outside the house late one night when I'd been trying to sneak back in. But tell your bosses not to worry. They all know better than to spill the beans. Don't want to end up where I did for six weeks, when I first tried to tell mom about my after-hours gig. And I'm sure you know what I mean."
And he did too. He'd read about her brief hospital stay, when the military had given him copies of her background information to read on the flight from Virginia to California. He'd understood their concern when he'd realized she had been hospitalized for a few weeks, due to supposed mental problems. However, after reading through the doctor's evaluations of her during her stay in the psych ward, he'd come to the conclusion they had, minus the part that vampires were simply part of an imaginative story she'd created in an effort to convince her neglectful parents she was special. Buffy was one of the many children of wealthy parents that were so busy living their elite socialist lives, that they didn't have time to raise their children. And that poor Buffy craving some actual attention from her parents, had made up this elaborate story about being mankind's only protection from real life vampires and demons, in order to prove to them she was worth their love.
Thanks to the military, he knew that at least that part of her story was true. And having just seen her in action, he was willing to bet that the rest was accurate as well.
Realizing he'd already come to a conclusion about her, Buffy decided to just flat out ask.
"So what's your verdict?" She asked bluntly. "Am I crazy?"
"No, Miss Summers," he told her, his gentle smile returning. "I believe, just from speaking with you, that you are an incredibly dedicated, very strong young woman, who was pushed into a situation that you should never have been made to face. But that rather than flounder or collapse, as some might suggest you should, you've thrived. You've worked hard to make a life here for yourself, to take care of those you love, and to even protect those who will likely never know of the horrors you face to keep them safe. Your courage is very evident. And if you happen to act a bit immaturely from time to time when doing this job, as you did with that young creature you were fighting when I walked up, that can easily be explained by your age, as well as your confidence that that particular individual truly didn't possess a significant threat to you."
Nodding, Buffy sensed a ‘but’ coming.
"But...." she flat out asked.
"The only real concern I have is that you seemed to be taking a great deal of pleasure in your pummeling of that young vampire," he admitted. "And I am also concerned with how the new responsibilities you’re facing, with the prospect of taking full care of your younger sister while your mother recovers from her illness, will impact your ability to focus when fighting the things you fight."
Sighing, Buffy looked away before responding.
"I worry about that part, too," she admitted, somewhat miffed by how easily this man had analyzed her. Guess it came with his job as a profiler. She'd have to ask Giles about that. "The first part, is because I'm a slayer. I'm like the supernatural version of a cat with a mouse. I'd never cross that line, though. A fellow slayer that I knew. She did, by accident at first, and it more or less destroyed her. In fact, she's in prison for that right now. The only saving grace for her is that she finally realized how wrong what she did was, and she turned herself in for it. Doesn't excuse it, though. And I haven't fully forgiven her for betraying me and mine when we tried to help. Maybe someday, but not yet."
"Now don't get me wrong. I'm not ignoring your concerns. It's just, you can't know what being what I am is like. No one but another slayer can. I do scare myself sometimes, with how ruthless I can be with vamps and other demons. But it’s like a second nature and truthfully, I won't apologize for it. Sometimes, you have to rough these things up to find out where their end of the world party's being held. And demons don't get please and thank you. Human nature shoots so far over their heads most of the times, it's probably in orbit around Jupiter."
"And as for the rest. I doubt that I'm mother material. And Dawn's so freaked out right now about all the crazy things happening in our lives at the moment, that I'm not sure I'm gonna be able to cope with her, even for a short time. And then I worry about how I'll handle it if mom doesn't make it, and it’s all I can do not to just freak out. But, why exactly am I telling you this?"
"Maybe because you know that I am not expecting you to keep being strong," Gideon told her confidently. "Everyone has a breaking point, Buffy. Even you."
"But I can't have a breaking point, and still do my job," she argued, growling in frustration and turning away from him for a moment. "There's always some crazy demon or super ugly here in this city, looking to open the Hellmouth in order to destroy the world. And usually, I'm the only thing standing in its way."
"Even so," he told her, "You need to find an outlet away from all this. Otherwise, It will destroy you quicker than any of the things you fight ever will."
Sighing, Buffy turned back to him.
"What's yours?" she asked him.
"I like to cook, actually," he told her, earning a surprised look. "I also have a great love of nature, and birds in particular. I even have a secluded little spot back in Virginia, where I can go to get away if I need to."
Smiling in return, Buffy decided to admit her secret interest in the field that made his job successful.
"I like learning about psychology, actually," she confessed, earning her a wider smile from the agent. "Kinda think that's what I'll major in, if I survive long enough to."
"Well, after you graduate, if you ever have an interest in applying to the BAU, I'll sponsor you," he offered.
"Oh, that buddy of yours would totally freak if that happened," she joked, allowing herself to laugh. "He'd think you had gone just as wacko as he thought I was."
"Probably true," Gideon admitted, chuckling as he pictured Hotch's face if he was to ever introduce Buffy Summers, the supposed Hemery High Vampire Killer, as the BAU's newest recruit. It would almost be worth it to throw the always too serious agent off his game.
Still snickering, Buffy stood.
"I need to finish my rounds and then go take care of the nest that fledgling belongs to," she informed him. "You need anything else?"
"No," he assured her. "I think I have enough to write my report, all though truthfully, I'm quite certain that it will be destroyed within a week of submitting it."
She agreed with him. Couldn't risk such a big secret falling into the wrong hands.
"I'll walk you to your car," she told him, quickly cutting him off before he could protest. "No argument. This town's full of nutty blood suckers who're itching for some payback against the government for the Initiative fiasco last year."
Deciding that she probably knew better than he did, he chose not to argue with her. And if they happened upon anyone who was actually human, he could always say that he was escorting her instead of the other way around.
As they reached his vehicle, a black, bureau issue sedan, Gideon turned to her.
"Thank you for your honesty, Miss Summers," he told her, offering her his hand, which she shook. "I know what we discussed, was difficult for you. Especially considering your previous experiences with the U.S. Government."
"Well, I figured, I either trust you, or I'd probably find a whole gaggle of nice young doctors holding strait jackets on my doorstep in a few days," she replied, her tough persona showing itself again.
Opening his door, he turned back to her again.
"You know, Dave Rossi's scheduled to guest lecture at UCLA late next week, to discuss his new book," he told her. "It's opened to the public, if you're interested. He wouldn't have to know you were there if you went. I know you likely don't want to have a confrontation with him. But if you're interested in psychology and human behavior, it might be worth it to attend."
Smiling at him again for his encouragement of her no longer oh so secret interest, she nodded in thanks.
"I'll think about it," she assured him. "Now be careful leaving town. Don't stop for anyone. Never know who might actually be a ‘what’ in this city."
"I'll remember that," he told her. "Good luck, Buffy. And I hope your mother has a speedy, uneventful recovery."
"Thank you," she accepted. "Good luck with that hunting for serial killers thing."
Nodding in return, he climbed into his car and left. Buffy went the opposite way, actually feeling better that she had all night. Who knew her second encounter with the BAU would be so uplifting.
12 & ½ Years Later
May 28, 2013, 8:33 PM
The Residence of David Rossi, Senior FBI Profiler of the BAU
The pair watched the gathering from the thickly shadowed wood at the far end of the successful profiler/writer's extravagant property. Keeping to the darkness, the pair watched the somber, elegant affair taking place in the garden of the agent's lavish estate. Their kind, used to the dark of night, easily used it to conceal their presence from those they were observing. Those that they were and had been stalking from those very shadows for over a year.
It amused them greatly, having the agents of the BAU assuming that the fool whom dubbed himself 'The Replicator' was the master mind of that entire fiasco that had left Erin Strauss dead and had almost been an end to the rest of them. Of course, that was because they and Lilith, had left no trail. No way to trace all the crimes committed by John Curtis back to any of them. It had been quite easy actually. Curtis had been more than willing to accept full credit for the acts they'd helped him commit. He wanted his hatred of Strauss, of the new agent, Alex Blake, to be what was noted when the case came into the open, and they'd been fine with that. The vindictive politician had played his fool part well, keeping secret all evidence of the vampire queen and her brood's involvement. Just as they had known he would.
It had allowed them to plan in the shadows, waiting patiently as only an immortal knew how, for things to reach the point it had. They'd known Curtis wasn't nearly as clever as he thought he was, so they hadn't feared he would succeed in snatching the prizes out from under them. Though he hadn't realized it until probably the very end, they had more or less set him up to fail. A man, even one as smart and vengeful as John Curtis had been, was no match for those trained to get into the heads of guys just like him. Especially when his belief that things were personal between him and the BAU team had in turn, made it personal to those agents. In fact, it had been easy for Lilith to work her seductive magic to influence the already volatile man into acting. And Curtis being tricked by Rossi in the end simply saved them the trouble of killing him before anyone learned the truth.
As they watched Rossi lift his wine glass and purpose a toast to quote, 'A Good Woman', the female could no longer hold back her snort at what she felt was a ridiculous gesture.
"God," she said to her companion, clearly disgusted. "All this fucking sentiment for someone who actually made most of their lives hell, is making me want to throw up."
"Vampire's don't vomit," her companion told her, his face a mask.
Though younger than her by a good six months, he was by far the more mature of the pair. That really irked the woman. As a human, she'd been impatient, reckless. Some would have called her wild. All that had been what had attracted her sire, one of Lilith's head minions, to her to begin with. And then, a quarter year later, when the vampire queen had in a rage, slain her sire, she'd been released from his hold and became free to grow and expand as a vampire in her own way. And her majesty had been impressed with her in the beginning. Her mind was sharp and her dedication to wiping out everything she had been before her turning was quickly earning her a spot among the queen's elite.
But all that had changed when she'd dragged home the male beside her. She'd known him in her human life, and when she and her fellow vampires had caught him unaware as he was leaving an old diner just outside LA, she'd jumped at the chance to get even with someone from her old life. And as she was the eldest in that young hunting party and considered the queen's favorite, she was able to call the shots.
But all that went away when Lilith first caught sight of him. She doubted that it was his physical appearance that impressed her, but rather his presence. He still held an air of strength and power about him. And that had been all it had taken for Lilith to snatch her newly forming authority right out from under her. She'd seized her prize, threatening to leave her unruly fledgling out for a sunbath if she didn't surrender him. And the threat had worked. She'd given in, and handed over her plaything with only a whimper of protest. After all, no one said no to the Queen of the Damned.
And she'd known she was really screwed when the following night, her old acquaintance had exited her majesty's private chambers, smelling of a freshly risen vampire, and immediately asserted himself as the queen's new golden childe. Gods', she should have just killed him when she saw him. But, no, she'd wanted to start building a rep, and to do that, she needed to practice her torture techniques.
It had quickly become clear that her newest little brother, would still have authority over her. Normally in their society, older vampires had higher positions in the pack. But not this time. The queen quickly announced that her new childe had position over all of them. That she had given him something she'd only given one other time in history and that this time, it couldn't be stolen by others. Only one had dared challenge that ruling so far: The queen's previous bed warmer. And he quickly learned the foolishness of that mistake.
After asserting himself as her superior, her old friend turned hated rival, had quickly begun planning the take down of all of his loved ones. Something typical in vampire society. However, like the legendary Lothos, and the famed Scourge of Europe, her new brother wasn't just satisfied with hunting his old family down and killing them. No. He wanted their deaths to be memorable. Something to strike complete fear in any human who happened to come his way. And if he found suitable humans to begin building his minion pool, all the better. He was the queen's childe and as far as she was concerned, her childe should have only the best.
The best food. The best fuck toys, and the best playthings. Whatever he wanted. And right then, he wanted nothing more than to have back what he saw as having been stolen from him. What these agents were responsible for destroying.
Growling softly in protest, she finally responded.
"I still don't get it," she said defiantly to him. "You're not done playing with them yet."
"I haven't even begun to start," he replied, still completely calm. "And I thought you approved of the game so far."
"I do," she hissed, turning to him in anger. "But enough is enough already. Kill them. Or turn them and be done with it. At this rate, with everything you're planning for them, they're gonna be as nuts as that goofy British Seer that Lilith's taken a liking to in the past year."
"You still haven't learned patience," he responded, finally turning to her, the golden eyes of his true face appearing sinister in the dim light.
Growling in frustration, the woman simply turned back to the gathering, crossing her arms.
"Well, you better decide what you're gonna do and when, soon," she told him huffily. "Cause come fall, D.C. and Quantico is gonna be full of eager young slayers, out looking to put sharp pointy sticks through our kinds' hearts. And no matter how tough you think you are, you won't be laughing much if a group of them corners you."
"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" he said with a suspicious smile, before returning his gaze to the gathering.
Upset that she had once again been unable to ruffle him, the woman shifted her gaze back to the seven agents.
"So what's next in your brilliant plan?" she asked, deciding she'd better not push her luck any further that night.
"We wait," he told her. "I have a few, ‘old friends’, I've been meaning to drop in on. They'll make fine chess pieces in this little game we'll be playing soon. And my dear, for your information, I want the slayer to be a part of the end game. And so does her majesty. It's time she and her sisters face something they can't explain or expect."
"No offense," his companion said, turning to move fully into the night. It was still early, and she wanted to catch some dinner, before the only sources of blood on the street were drunks and junkies. "But you're not all that. Clearly, your ego is still as inflated as it was when you were human."
"Perhaps it is," he told her, taking one last look at the agents who would very soon become his prey, before he moved to join her. "Or perhaps, I know of a little something that will keep Miss Summers and her girls quite busy for a while, which will give us more than ample time, to snare our prey in our net. And I do have a few surprises you don't know about, my dear."
"Don't tell me," she demanded. "I don't want to know."