[A/N: We are nearing the end of the second book – and yes, there will be a third installment, I just can’t say when it will be posted, since I haven’t even started working on it. I will get it done though. I have another couple of stories I’d like to start and possibly finish before I start on that, but I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible, given the way I write. Anyway, so here it is. Thank Tam for her wonderful beta (and fast turn around also) and to Slinky and Addie, without whom there wouldn’t be any quotes for this one, at least not tonight. Title and quotes are as attributed and the disclaimers are in full force and effect. Therefore, I own nothing save the plot and a few minor characters.]

Previously: Angel is gone; the Huntsman has taken Willow and requested Buffy go with them to the Otherworld; Connor is missing.

Book Two. Chapter 67. A brief respite from fear

I only know that a rook
Ordering its black feathers can so shine
As to seize me senses, haul
My eyelids up, and grant
A brief respite from fear
Of total neutrality.
Sylvia Plath, Black Rook in Rainy Weather

The pause between the errors and trials of the day
and the hopes of the night.
Herbert Hoover

These sudden ends of time must give us pause.
We fray into the future, rarely wrought
Save in the tapestries of afterthought.
More time, more time.
Richard Wilbur, Year’s End

And thus I’ll curb her mad and headstrong humor.
He that knows better how to tame a shrew,
Now let him speak; ‘tis charity to shew.
Taming of the Shrew, Act iv, Sc. ii




Spike surveyed the Scoobies – though he supposed that name really didn’t apply anymore. Right at this moment, only Giles still remained of the original group. They were a sad, sorry lot. Anya was, for once, sitting quietly, her eyes fixed on Giles, who was leaning against the dining room wall.

“Who’s bleeding?”

By way of answer, Anya pointed at Giles, who only shook his head in denial.

A low growl surged from his throat and Spike swung his head around to look at Wesley and Tara. “Someone’s hurt, so who is it?”

Tara shrugged, which ended in a grimace and a wave of pain surged through her. “Oh.” She reached up with her right hand and cut herself on the still embedded shard of glass. “Guess it’s me.”

“Glinda…” Spike closed the distance to her side in two steps while Wesley steadied her in her chair. Anya scrambled for the first-aid kit as Spike pushed Tara’s hand away. “‘S gonna hurt, but it’s gotta come out. You ready?”

Wesley grabbed her hands, saying, “Squeeze if you have to.”

Giles moved to stand beside Spike, raising an eyebrow. “It’s going to require stitching. Perhaps we should wait and get her to hospital.”

Spike was shaking his head. “Needs to come out now.”

Before he or Wesley could object further or Tara could tense up more, Spike grasped the shard and pulled. He faltered, the chip sending pulse waves of pain through his head and Tara slumped forward, passing out.

“Fucking hell.” Spike sagged against the wall, one hand fisted against his temple. “Now you can get her to hospital.”

Wesley quickly staunched the flow of blood, attempting to lift Tara’s unconscious form. “Leave ‘er, Oxford. I’ll get her. You get the wheels.”

Staggering over to the table, Spike waved off any assistance, easily lifting Tara in his arms. “Rupert, you’ll stay with the sprog an’ . . . . “

He froze – they all did – at Spike’s mention of Connor. Unbidden tears sprung in more than one pair of eyes and for long seconds none of them even moved, until Giles cleared his throat. “I’ll…” With a telling look at Anya, he continued, “we’ll start looking for answers.”

Spike’s jaw clenched, the muscles twitching furiously in his cheek. “Right. Won’t be long.”

And before any of them could really recover, Spike stomped out the door.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Thumping her fist twice against the broad expanse in front of her, Faith fumed when she got no reaction. Freaking bully. Not putting up with this crap. What the fuck does he think he’s doing? She wriggled a bit, earning herself a slap on the ass and a low chuckle, and nothing more. She thought about kicking him, but his grip on her legs tightened, almost as if he could read her mind. Another low chuckle vibrated through her and Faith clenched her jaw, lips thinning with barely suppressed rage.

Making an effort to calm her tense muscles, Faith slowed her breathing and settled her heartbeat. Ha! All that freaking time I spent working on meditating in the slammer paid off. Take this, you big stupid vampire. For several blocks she stayed still, hoping Jenner would buy her ruse. They passed by the Magic Box and Faith nearly laughed at her own image floating upside down in the mirror-like dark glass.

It took longer than she expected, almost long enough for her to be ready to give up, when Jenner loosened his hold on her legs. Faith waited, counting out the seconds and at the third set of thirty, Faith twisted, flipping up off Jenner’s shoulder, landing in front of him.

Almost before he could register her actions, Faith had fisted her hands, body slipping into an aggressive stance. He easily blocked her first punch, his hand covering her smaller one.

“What’s with the caveman routine? Can’t just go carrying people around like sacks of potatoes.” She threw a left hook aimed at his head, which he reacted to by just grabbing her wrist and pulling her in close to him.

He grinned, moonlight casting odd shadows on his features. “Was the easiest way to shut you up.”

She shifted her weight, preparing to kick him, when Jenner hauled her closer, her breasts almost crushed between them. Faith had to tilt her head up to avoid getting her nose slammed into his chest and she pulled hard against his hold. “Lemme go, you asshole.”

“No.”

She fought harder at his refusal, slipping from his grasp after a struggle. “No? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Once more she swung a fist at him and he whirled her around, her back to his front. He leaned down, his mouth inches away from her ear, cool breath wafting over her heated skin. He could feel her body reacting to his nearness and his grin widened. “It means…it’s time.”

His head dropped down, his mouth nuzzling against her neck. Faith swung her elbow back, hoping to catch him in his side, but Jenner caught her arm, holding it out away from him. “No more playing.”

He bit the nape of her neck, just gently scraping his blunt teeth over her flesh. Both of them could feel her heartbeat pick up, and Jenner ghosted his hand over her breasts.

Tremors wracked her and Faith forgot to think. Her hand covered Jenner’s and she never even registered the temperature difference between them. Is this what Buffy feels every time Spike gets close? Coz, oh…God…

She wasn’t even sure the slight whimper was hers until Jenner’s husky chuckle sounded in her ear. “We could do this here, or we could move this someplace quieter.”

“Not dropping trou . . . .” Her voice trailed off as Jenner cupped her breast, thumbing her nipple through the layers of clothes. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

Grinning sardonically, almost in a leer, Jenner once more lifted Faith up into his arms and strode off into the darkness.



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Warily shifting her gaze from the giant to the open gate, Buffy hesitated long enough for the Huntsman to urge her forward. “My lord waits within.”

Clenching her hand around the small bits of iron, the Slayer visibly gathered her courage. Okay, gonna take a leap of faith here. I hope Jenner was right about the iron. Buffy nodded once, slipping the chain over her head. The silver chain was long, and the cross landed directly between her breasts, the bottom resting against her belly. Taking that as a good sign, Buffy inhaled deeply and stepped around the gate.

The hall was breathtakingly beautiful, the walls a deep, rich blue – like Spike’s eyes – and arched alcoves lined the walls. Large columns of creamy marble shot with lines of silver and gold held up a ceiling of the same colors. Benches of delicate silver and gold were set at different intervals throughout the cavernous interior. The floor beneath her feet was marble, a deep rich green, mixed with flecks of gold and cream.

Straight in front of her, sitting atop a deceptively delicate looking chair, was a figure. Too far away to guess whether it was male or female, Buffy tried questioning the giant at her side. “Who is that?”

Her only answer was a large meaty hand nudging her shoulder and a single word, “Come.”

With a look bordering on mutinous, Buffy followed the Huntsman, trying very hard not to gape like a hick.

Halfway down the hall, she realized word of her appearance must have spread, because the hall began to fill with. . . Well, they weren’t entirely human, because her spider sense was going haywire, but they certainly looked human. Except each one was more beautiful than the next, wearing gowns and tunics of every color and fabrics that Buffy couldn’t identify. Every single one of them was tall, taller than Angel and Riley, even the women. It hurt her eyes to look upon such creatures and with every step further into the hall, Buffy felt smaller and grubbier and so very unworthy of being in their company.

Tears collected in her eyes and she was filled with fear over what was about to happen. She was so clearly out of her depth here. Unconsciously, her right hand clenched around the cross and she was swamped by such a fierce longing for Spike that Buffy very nearly turned tail and headed for the door.

It was only then she realized that she and the Huntsman had reached their destination. Buffy kept her eyes averted, unwilling to look at anything higher than the floor.

Deep silence filled the hall and every figure waited to see what the lord of the hall would do.

There was a rustle of material and the sound of footsteps echoed softly through the otherwise silent hall. The Huntsman dropped his burden, dumping Willow’s still unconscious form at his massive feet.

“Greetings, Chosen One, well met and welcome to my hall.” The voice was unlike anything she’d ever heard before, deep as night and soft as dreams, it reverberated throughout the hall.

Buffy finally looked up and was struck dumb by the sight in front of her. She couldn’t think, too mesmerized by the sheer presence of the being standing before her. He was tall, lanky and his face was indescribably handsome. No, he’s not handsome, that’s not good enough. He’s beautiful, and oh, my God, Spike would not be out of place here. . . .

Fathomless eyes stared into hers and he smiled, breaking the ice. “I am Gwyn ap Nudd, and I owe you a great debt.”

“Me?” She hadn’t meant to squeak, she really hadn’t, but Buffy could barely force air into her lungs. She cleared her throat, trying a second time. “Me?”

“Aye, my lady. You are the keeper of balance in your world, the one who destroys those who would tip the scales.” He smiled and Buffy thought she could spend forever watching him do that.

“Why do you owe me?”

“Events unfolded that altered the balance, with intervention from those of my world.” He gestured to Willow. “The betrayer called upon powers and magics she had no respect for, seeking control over events and destinies.”

When it was clear Buffy wasn’t going to comment, he continued, “This mortal sought out powers of the immortal. Given time and temperance, she might have become one of us. However, her need to control overtook her unselfish reasons.”

Buffy sighed, saying in a very small voice, “She wasn’t happy when I turned to Spike after I came back.”

A hollow laugh broke the silence and a woman moved through the crowd of people lining the hall. Her hair was dark red, floor length, rippling over her shoulders like a living cloak. “She refused to see what was inevitable, no matter what path your future took.”

The woman moved closer and Buffy could see the unusual purple hue of her eyes. She glanced down at the redhead. “She has eyes, but refuses to see. Has a heart, but will not listen to it.”

A grim look overtook her features and she gestured to Buffy. “Your heart is pure, Chosen One, for even now you feel pity for her.”

Gwyn interrupted. “Would you save her?”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The instant she saw him stride through the emergency room doors, Maureen Osbourne knew something was seriously wrong. For one thing, he was alone except for the girl in his arms. For another, said girl wasn’t Buffy.

She waved him through, bypassing the admitting clerk, holding the door open for him. Spike nodded his head in thanks and shouldered past her.

“How bad is it?”

“Glass lodged in her shoulder. Watcher thought it needed stitching.”

It only took a half hour to get Tara squared away, but it was a half hour Spike spent pacing the corridor outside her room. Wesley finally joined him after parking the car, but he wisely kept both his distance and his silence.

The tension surrounding Spike was more than palpable. It was a living, breathing presence beside him. Wesley had never experienced anything like it, and he was aware any wrong move could set the other man off. Muscles clenched and jaw ticking madly, Spike made another circuit down the hall while Wesley watched. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Spike stopped and stalked right for him.

“You’ll get Glinda home. I’ll meet you there.”

And before Wesley could agree, Spike was gone.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



They barely made it through the front door of the small hotel he’d commandeered as his headquarters. Jenner slid his hand beneath Faith’s button-down shirt, cupping a full breast in his cool hand. She retaliated by biting his chest and Jenner dug the fingers of his other hand into her hip, pulling her hard against his erection.

Faith chuckled while saying, “Guess you’re real happy to see me.”

He laughed, deep and low, letting her go, but walking her backward, further into the hotel lobby. “I’d be happier if you were already naked.”

She stepped back, eyeing him up and down, her eyes focused on his crotch and Faith licked her lips. “Yeah, I bet you would.” She started slowly unbuttoning her top and Jenner growled when the top buttons exposed her breast. “Like what you see?”

Faith was laughing at him, thinking she had control. He blinked, letting her think so, for a heartbeat. Jenner lunged for her then, popping the buttons on her shirt, easily stripping it away. His eyes roamed her exposed flesh and his leer had her panting. “Yeah, I like what I’m seeing.”

Jenner pinched her nipples, watching her eyes dilate with desire. “Take off your clothes.”

“Only if you get naked, too.” He grinned, because she was still trying to control the situation. Instead of answering, Jenner deftly wrapped the trailing ends of her shirt together, pinning her arms. Fighting to free her hands, Faith swore at him.

Jenner spun her around, unzipping her pants and pushing them down around her knees. His mouth at the back of her neck sent Faith’s senses reeling and she writhed when his fingers brushed over her clit.

“Oh you naughty girl, all clean and bare.” Jenner forced her legs apart. “Watch yourself.”

Faith looked up to see her reflection in the mirrored glass covering the elevator doors. She was naked from knees to breasts, trussed for Jenner’s pleasure, unable to free herself. His fingers played across her skin, and though she could see them if she looked down, in the mirror there was nothing.

Jenner leaned in close to her, and Faith could feel his hard cock against her butt. “So, baby, did you fuck the one who shaved you?”

Faith figured she’d shock him by telling him the truth. “No…but I let her eat my pussy whenever she wanted.”

Instead of shocking him, Jenner just laughed, plunging two fingers in her pussy. “Oh, you have to let me watch.”

She was hot and slick and needed no more foreplay. “Start fucking me and I’ll let you do anything.”

Jenner grinned, sliding his fingers from her grasping pussy. He offered them to her and Faith sucked them into her mouth.



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Unlike Faith, Sam heard every word between the other two vampires. He hadn’t known, until Spike spilled the whole story to Jenner, what had happened to Angel and why all the Aurelian vampires had gathered in Sunnydale.

He almost didn’t believe the tale.

It was hard to fathom.

Angel had fathered a child.

Vampires weren’t supposed to be able to procreate like humans.

Sam listened to the tale of Angel and his erstwhile soul, his mind trying to comprehend it all. None of it made any sense.

Angelus had been cursed with a soul.

He either hadn’t bothered to learn about it, or didn’t inform his sometime girlfriend, who just happened to be the Slayer. and after one – and only one – sexual encounter, broke the curse.

After being re-cursed, he’d left for Los Angeles, where somehow his sire and Jenner’s had been brought back and she’d gotten pregnant. And no one really understood how.

Despite being without a soul, Darla had sacrificed herself for the baby. And judging by Jenner’s reaction to the news, Sam realized the unknown Darla had done a complete turn-around, done something selfless. Yet that same moment had unleashed Angelus again. Sam was having a hard time assimilating all this. He hadn’t known abut the soul until Spike told him – yesterday?

Was it only yesterday that he’d willingly traded away his loyalty? Sam was suddenly hit with a wave of confusion, leaving him reeling on his feet. He staggered over to the tree, almost bonelessly slumping down onto the damp grass. The events of the last few days and the overload of information finally caught up with him. He’d been turned by a vampire with a soul, which explained so much about his own constantly muddled state. Why he sometimes couldn’t finish a meal, why he shied away from certain humans. Sam chuckled, a low crazed sound that stuttered and hesitated in his throat. He knew he didn’t have a soul, but he had something – something aside from the moral code his parents had instilled in him as a child. Something setting him apart from the other vampires. The laugh bounced around the air surrounding him and Sam thought about all the people he’d killed over the last sixty or so years – and the laugh choked into a heartbroken sob.

If only he’d known.



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“When you say save, you mean like saving her from death or like prison? Or, like, what exactly do you mean?”

The woman lifted her eyes to study the Slayer, who was unconsciously wringing her hands. A soft smile briefly crossed her lips, though the kindness never reached her eyes. “He means would you grant her grace. Give her absolution for her betrayal. Would you give her a chance to redeem herself?”

An expectant hush swept through the assemblage and Buffy felt the weight of all the otherworldly attention upon her. Good question. Wish I knew the answer. Ignoring her brain’s commands, Buffy blurted out a soft, “I don’t really know.”




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