He may not have understood the words as they were spoken by her quivering voice, but he understood the feelings because he’d felt them before. What he felt now was the same feeling that had had driven him to kill the beastly things of the world that threatened to take his youngling, his one softness, away from him.

The fingers of fire that skittered the length of his spine spoke to the primal within, as he stared into her frightened eyes, “Spike,” Buffy shook her head, trying to keep her voice even; knowing that she should be calm, but somehow the idea that someone she didn’t know could know anything about what she and he family had been through, was anything but calming, “how does he know?” Buffy hated the shrillness of her own voice, but she hated the haze of anger and fright in Spike’s eyes even more, “How does he know about us? And what does he have to do with Joni, or Angel?”
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29 DECEMBER 1872 – LONDON, ENGLAND-

William rose early, as was his custom. Truth be told, he hadn’t slept since he’d heard the whisperings about the Lendman girl.

It really was a tragedy. The girl had disappeared in a crowd of people. And, suddenly a season of joy had transformed into one of misery and pain.

The spectre of death had never been this close to him. He didn’t want to believe that it would ever be this close when he was still so young. He preferred to focus on the beautiful things of the world. But he wasn’t a fool; he knew death could come at any time, to anyone.

He just thought it a pity that someone so young could be taken.

He had even been part of a search party. He’d scoured the town, as well as the Lendmans’ estate, and his own, for days and there was not a trace of her.

The world was spinning out of control, and the only escape he knew was his writing. He slipped on his overcoat and headed to the stables near the edge of the family estate. The world was always simpler when he wrote, when he was in the stables.

He felt surprisingly light as the harsh winter sun shone brightly down on him as he made his way to the stables and for a moment he forgot about the lost little girl.

The sight of her red hair, mated with blood, and her pale face as her lifeless eyes stared up at him, their pale blue obscured by tawny bits of straw, made it impossible for him to forget her. In that moment of horrible shock, he knew he’d never be the same, carefree boy again.

“You know,” Oscar’s voice mused from out of the dark, “I always wondered why you chose William, or rather, why Drusilla did. Did she know that William was the one to find her, my little Diana? Tossed aside, like she was so much garbage. I’m surprised that William was able to survive. But, you know, if he hadn’t, Mary would never have, especially once I…” he paused, and his chilling voice came closer, “That boy-and that’s what he was- a boy. What was he, all of eighteen? A man, then. But he wouldn’t be considered one now. He had such a big heart. He took care of Mary, when I couldn’t.”

Liam tried to find Oscar in the dark, but he couldn’t. He was being tormented by an unseen man, bent on vengeance, and he hated it.

“Oscar,” Liam rasped, “I can’t take any of what happened back,” he could feel the tears, tears from both anger and fear, stinging his eyes as he spoke, “I would if I could. You have to believe me…”

“Do I?” Oscar spit out, his voice booming in the darkness, “And why is that? You’ve proven that you’re a liar…and a cold-blooded child murderer!”

Liam could feel the heat of his venom as it hung, suffocating, in the air, “Oscar,” he wheezed, his chest tight with fear, “You know what I was. You are what I was. You kill to survive, and so did I. There’s no conscience, no thinking involved…”

“I never killed a child!” Oscar screamed, “But, I might have to kill you…after all, I can’t control myself. I have no conscience!”
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She was shaking as he held her, and it shook him to his core. This was something beyond words, “I don’t really care about him,” Buffy was saying, “But, whoever this is…If he could get close enough to Angel to take him; what’s stopping him from getting to you, or Jonina? I just got you back, and I don’t want to lose you. Not again,” she looked up at him through misty eyes, “I thought you were dead and gone for almost a year,” she knew she was babbling, and that he probably couldn’t understand her, but she couldn’t stop the torrent of emotion, “and it almost killed me. I couldn’t…” she shook her head, nearly overcome, “When you left, and he told me…” her chest was heaving as she took in gulps of air, “When he came back from that place, and he told me that he’d been there, for thirty years, I thought I’d never see you or Joni again!”

He looked at her, and knew, from somewhere deep inside of him, that he’d seen that look of helplessness before. His heart put the image before his eyes and he was once again struck mute. He saw her face and her sorrowful eyes broke him as her voice echoed in his mind, “I love you. ” And, suddenly he knew why he’d pushed it to the back of his mind as if she hadn’t said it. It was because he hadn’t wanted to see her break. He wanted her to live, and he knew she wouldn’t if she thought he’d believed her, and he had, with all that was in him; he believed her.

His own words echoed, as the emotions crushed him again. The first time he’d been unable to speak. It was no different now. “No, you don’t. But, thanks for saying it.”

He didn’t know how or where the words came, but he could tell, from the look on her face that, by some perfect alignment of the stars, or by the grace of whatever was watching over him, he had made himself understood, “No,” he said softly, his voice strong and sure, “Never…Never leave you. Always protect you.”

“See, Mommy,” Jonina said, brightly, “I knew Daddy could do it. He can be the Prince. And, the Prince saves people. If the bad man has someone…” she looked excitedly, if a bit unsure, at both of her parents, “Daddy will save them,” she hugged her toy rabbit in shaking fingers, “…Right?”
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Liam’s ears were still ringing from Oscar’s inhuman growl. He was sure that Oscar had burst an eardrum with his outrage.

The pain was so intense that he could barely hear the question. It sounded as if Oscar was whispering to him from across a football field but his mouth, and his cold words were unmistakably near, “…Children don’t believe in evil. They see good in everyone,” his amber eyes were alight with rage, “That’s what make them such easy prey. A smile, a kind word, and they’ll follow you anywhere,” even though his eyes were full of rage, his voice was saddened and shaken, “And, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Children should never see what we really are. Do you think little Jonina knows what you are?”

“I’m not…” Liam stuttered, “that anymore.”

“Does that mean that you’re worth saving?”

The whispered quarry made Liam look over both phases of his life, the living and the dead, and he came to a certain conclusion, “No,” he said, as the tears rolled down his face.

Oscar’s face blurred as it moved away slightly. His voice held a chuckle. He was clearly surprised by the answer, “Do you think Spike will think you’re worth saving? Do you think Joni can convince him to save you?”
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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Some dialog from "Chosen."