Banner by Spikes Slayer2
AN: Just a fair warning that Buffy is not very likeable in the first part (though, some Spuffy fans don’t seem to like her much anyway...) But this is a sort of role reversal, her being the evil and nasty vampire jerk that Spike might have started out as. Just don’t let the warning scare you off; she turns into her usual likeable self after a few chapters when it jumps to the present.
Thank you to Ruth and Patti for their betaing and Spikes Slayer2 for her fabulous banner.
London wasn’t turning out to be as much fun as Elizabeth had hoped. It was the same boring parties thrown by the same pretentious asses who liked to hear themselves speak. It was the same thing every time she visited, century to century. She didn’t even politely hide the yawn that bubbled up as she stood there by the mantle.
The only bright spot could have been when some of the men had openly taunted one young man. She had hoped a fight would break out when the scrawny little thing defended himself; but alas, he did not seem to have much of a backbone. Instead, the wanker ran off to parts unknown, probably to write more bad poetry about how awful his life was.
She shook her head. She might as well move on, maybe return to Rome. Rome was always so much fun with lots of delicious food—those hot-blooded Italians. Not to mention, the last time she had visited she had met this interesting fellow who called himself The Immortal. The things he could do...
It was settled. She was heading for Rome. Without another word, she hitched up her skirts and walked toward the door, ignoring the strange looks she was getting. Like the opinion of cattle mattered to her.
On the front steps, Elizabeth paused to decide if she should lure one of the partygoers out with her for a nice meal. Then attending this mind-numbing party wouldn’t have been a total waste of her precious time. Was she hungry for male or female tonight?
The decision was made for her as someone came hurrying out the door, nearly bowling her over in his haste. Her hand gripped the iron railing and her teeth gritted.
“Of all the nerve!” she hissed, emerald eyes narrowing to glittering slits. “It seems someone just volunteered to be supper.”
Her skirts were in her hands again, hitched up high as she took off running after him. Her hair came undone, the long, dark waves flying out behind her as she moved. It only served to heighten her image as the angry goddess about to mete out justice on a mortal who had offended her. He would regret ever leaving his house that night.
The trail of his scent led Elizabeth to an alley and she peered in to catch site of her prey. There he was, sitting on a dirty crate and sniffling like the pathetic wretch that he was. It was the same man who had been the target of so many jokes that night and who she had been disappointed to see take it all. It seemed she was doing a service by killing the little wimp, not seeing how it would be a benefit to mankind for this one to breed more insipid little brats.
As she moved towards him, she let herself be heard as she dropped her skirts back to the ground. He looked up, visibly straightening himself and swiping at his nose with the back of his hand. His eyes darted away and he cleared his throat.
“Excuse me, miss,” he apologized for his unseemly behaviour, voice hoarse with tears. “Are you lost? It is not safe for a lady to be wandering the streets at night unaccompanied.”
“Thank you for your concern, sir, but I can take care of myself,” she replied, sitting beside him on the crate. “But it is lucky that I found such a strapping man as yourself to keep me warm against the chill of the night.”
It was so very cute the way his eyes widened and his breath hitched at her nearness. She could hear his heart racing, making the game all the more enjoyable. Obviously, a man so pathetic would never have known the attentions of a woman. She wondered if she could make him faint.
Her delicate hand dropped onto his thigh and there was an audible gulp. Her eyes lifted to look up at him through her lashes, seeing that his face was as red as her lips.
“M-m-miss! I do say!” he sputtered, but didn’t move away. “I am not in the practice of soliciting services from ladies such as you, and I do not intend to start now.”
“Oh, pet,” she purred, flicking her tongue over the shell of his ear. “I was not talking about sex.”
That’s when her face shifted to her demonic guise, eyes glowing yellow with hunger. She caught his neck in her hand and held him firmly in place, letting him see what she truly was. He squeezed his eyes shut against the nightmare that was coming true.
“No! You open your eyes and look at me! Look at the face of your goddess, here to punish you for your rudeness!” Her fingers dug into his throat and she gave him a brief shake before he complied. “You nearly knocked me off my feet in your mad dash out of the party, but did you even notice? No. You could have caused me to fall down the steps and break my pretty neck upon the cobblestones. You would have been a killer.”
The last word was punctuated by her drawing her tongue along his neck, delighting in his shiver. She tore open his shirt to expose his neck and shoulder...then stopped short as her eyes fell on a birthmark.
It was a mark she had seen a long time ago. The mark signified him as a descendent of The Master, the first of their kind. If she remembered her myths correctly, the descendent had powerful blood and once turned would become a new breed of vampire. A better breed. Her intentions changed in that moment as she decided draining him would give her a boost and turning him would put this new vampire under her control as its Sire.
“It looks as if your luck has just changed, little boy,” she said. “Tell me your name.”
“Well, Little Willy, my name is Elizabeth and I think I will be keeping you around. This little mark here has saved you from death tonight.”
His eyes tried to search out the mark that he mentioned, but he couldn’t see it from his angle. She brushed her lips over his in a mocking kiss then moved to his neck. Her fangs slid into his flesh without any gentleness for she did not care if she caused the little peon pain. He was just a pawn to her, one that she would have killed if not for the random mark on his shoulder.
Elizabeth heard his heart slow to nearly a stop and she set him away from her so that she could bite her own wrist. She put it to his mouth, massaging his throat and urging him to drink. Just a little was needed to assure that he would rise again. It only took a minute and then she licked the cut closed.
Carrying William out of the alley, she walked down the road to a cemetery. There was a fresh grave with the gravedigger just climbing out, his work finished. He was quite shocked to see her as she unceremoniously dumped her childe into the hole then turned her gold eyes on him. A snap of his neck and she tossed his body in on top of William, a gift for when he woke.
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