Chapter 3

February 2003 Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

Riley and Graham pushed their way through the packed crowd of drunken people towards the distant bleachers. Riley had heard that Carnivale was an unforgettable experience…one that put Mardi Gras in New Orleans to shame. There certainly seemed to be no limit to the drunken depravity going on around him. There was a parade snaking its way down the main street with floats and giant masks and somewhere in the din, music was playing, with a Latin beat, but there were so many people in the streets that Riley couldn’t tell who were the marchers and who were the onlookers. Everywhere he looked, naked, or mostly naked people flashed him. Graham was holding on to Riley’s shirt to keep from losing him in the crowd...at any moment he felt as though he would be swept away into the parade, never to be seen again. Considering the remote outposts where Riley had been stationed over the past two years, the crowds and noise were overwhelming. Though it all might all have been worse if he had actually been sober. As it was, it was all kind of fun. Graham pulled Riley up into the bleachers where McClusky had saved them a couple of seats. Actually he had pretty much passed out on the seat, but when Graham propped him up, there was room for Riley and Graham to sit down.

"This is really something, huh?" Graham passed Riley a flask. They had been drinking steadily all day, though the atmosphere was more intoxicating than the alcohol.

"Never seen anything like it. Look at those women, Can’t believe they’re walkin’ around like that in public."

"How come we never see any women like that where we are?"

"We’re not allowed to frat-fraternize with the local women anyway."

"Who would want to? They’re all National Geographic rejects. Some of the demons are better lookin’!"

The two soldiers laughed and made coarse jokes about the women below, as they sashayed past to the beat of the Brazilian music.

The last two years had changed Riley Finn. Any remnants of the innocent farm boy that hadn’t been destroyed by his sojourn in Sunnydale had been burned away in the hot Equatorial sun. Demon hunting wasn’t a job for the weak or squeamish, and the days of hunting and slaughter followed by nights of drinking had coarsened and toughened him. At first he had missed Buffy so much and been so homesick for the US, that it was all he could do to not jump on the first chopper back to civilization. Instead, he threw himself into his work, volunteering for every mission, taking all sorts of crazy risks, trying to exorcise his memories of Sunnydale. And it worked...soon the work became his life, and he was able to find a measure of contentment, if not happiness.

Still, sitting in the bleachers with Graham, in a happy alcoholic haze, with absolutely nothing around him to remind him of Sunnydale, his thoughts still strayed back to that time and place, where he had looked into the face of Riley Finn and been afraid of what he saw.

Riley looked down at the teeming crowd. A band was going by and its beat was so infectious that it was impossible to be moving and not be in time with the music. Even the spectators were bouncing in their seats, unless they were dead to the world, like McClusky, or preoccupied like Riley. What had caught Riley’s eye, and distracted him from the insistent music, was a woman who was seemingly also immune to the beat. She was dancing and swaying, but to her own internal rhythm, which was much slower and more sensuous than the bouncy Latin band. Her appearance was also strikingly different from that of the other revelers. While they were dressed in mere scraps of brightly colored spangles and feathers, she was wearing a long dress of black lace. Her only concession to the Carnivale was a black domino mask, which covered the upper part of her face. Her dark hair was hanging loose past her shoulders. Recently, there had been tales of a panther woman who prowled the jungles near the Army compound. A native woman had been torn apart and her child taken during the last full moon. An investigation had been launched, but no further sightings had been recorded. Riley knew such shape shifters existed, having met Oz and seen him in action, so to speak, at Initiative headquarters. He wondered if this strange woman could be the were-panther, for there was something predatory and cat like about her. But as she moved closer to his part of the bleacher, Riley suddenly knew exactly what she was. A vampire.

Riley hadn’t seen a vampire in almost two years. His peculiar addiction hadn’t bothered him since he had left Sunnydale for the jungles of Belize. He wondered; if a man were stranded on an island 500 miles from the nearest 7-11 could one really say that he had given up smoking? Still, Riley knew that vampires existed in the larger cities, and he could have used his weekend passes to pursue them, if he really wanted to, but he didn’t. Instead, he stayed with Graham. Graham’s tastes were very mainstream when it came to recreation…he liked women and booze. Both of which were fine with Riley, so he hung with Graham, and stayed out of temptation’s way. Riley looked down at the knotted scars that adorned the insides of his elbows, evident in his short sleeved shirt. Nobody had ever asked him about them, not even Graham. All the men in Riley’s unit had scars, either physical, emotional, or both that had brought them to that remote location in the jungle to fight demons. They were a secretive lot, not given to sharing confidences, which was just the way Riley liked it.

Oddly enough, since being bitten by vampires in Sunnydale, Riley had developed a heightened sense, almost slayer-like, of when vampires were around. For example, he could tell that there were some in the crowds surrounding him tonight, which made sense; this was a perfect venue for them. They could kill almost unnoticed in this mob. And when the dark lady on the street below came near him, Riley’s senses tingled like a fire alarm bell, telling him her true nature. At that moment, she looked up, and Riley could swear she looked right at him and knew that he knew what she was. It gave him a chill. She looked away, and continued her dance. Only now, she was no longer alone. She had chosen a victim, among the dancing bodies in the street. She began to dance with him; a handsome dark skinned man in a spangled G-string and feathered headdress. His body shown with oil or sweat, and as he danced with her, his beat soon matched hers, instead of the music. She was looking in his eyes, and without warning, or even a word between them, they both slunk away from the parade and right under the bleacher where Riley was sitting.

What should he do? The man probably thought that she was a prostitute, and had no idea what was awaiting him under those bleachers. He should stop it. Riley turned to Graham, but he was too far-gone to be of any use. Riley left him propped up against McClusky. With effort he extricated himself from the booze-laden bodies around him, and made his way down the bleacher. Ducking underneath, he saw that it was almost as crowded under here as in the streets, with only a modicum more privacy. It reeked of bodies, liquor, sex, and marijuana smoke. He searched among groping couples, looking for the mysterious woman in black and her partner.

He finally saw them in back by the supports. She looked like she was embracing the man, but Riley knew that she was draining his life away, second by second that he couldn’t reach them. Riley was armed, as always, but with a gun and a knife. He had gotten out of the habit of carrying stakes since leaving Sunnydale. He cast his eyes around desperately for something to use. He could shoot or stab her of course; it would injure her and certainly slow her down, but he wanted her dead…nothing short of dust would do. Riley saw something on the ground among the piled up litter and debris. A popular concession in the stands was a kind of spicy beef served on skewers. Several of these skewers lay scattered in the grass. He picked them up. They weren’t very strong, but might suffice with the proper force behind them.

As he approached, the woman dropped the man, unconscious to the ground, and turned to face him. She had pulled off the domino mask, revealing her vampire visage, yellow eyes gleaming in the dark. Riley raised his improvised stake and moved towards her, pushing past a vomiting drunk, when incredibly, she laughed and her human face reappeared, though it was too dark to really see what she looked like. He had an impression of prominent eyes, and a sensuous mouth, when suddenly she waggled her fingers at him in a friendly wave, and disappeared into the crowds behind the bleachers. Riley looked at the skewer in his hand and realized how ridiculous it must have looked. He bent to the man lying on the ground. A faint pulse beat in his throat. Riley began shouting for help, in rudimentary Portuguese. He knew that he would never catch the vampire; she was a part of the crowd now and his senses could no longer detect her.

When he saw that the police were arriving, Riley himself melted into the crowd. He had no desire to talk to the police and be tied up in an investigation. The man would survive, and learn a lesson about picking up strange women at Carnivale. Riley found Graham and McClusky coming to at the bleachers, and dragged both of them back to their flea bag hotel, and deposited them on one of the double beds in the room. He collapsed on the other. He was exhausted, but the image of that vampire kept swirling through his brain. She had acted as though she knew him, had known that he wouldn’t kill her, despite his upraised ‘stake.’ She had laughed at him. Riley was thinking that he would very much like to meet her again, when he fell into a deep sleep.

Two weeks passed. Riley’s group had pretty much wiped out the demons in that area and was scheduled to bug out for a new location within the week. Riley heard that the new hot spot was in Equador somewhere. It didn’t matter. One Quonset hut in the middle of nowhere was as good as another. Plus Riley was getting restless. The image of that vampire under the bleachers had been haunting him. For the first time since he had come to South America, Riley was seriously tempted to take a weekend pass to Rio and find a fang bar. He began drinking even more heavily, so much so that Graham noticed and called him out about it. He dragged himself to the little mirror in the latrine, and was horrified at what he saw. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and his body, on which he prided himself, was bloated and pale despite his tropic tan.

Late that night, as he made his way from the latrine back to his hut, a woman came running out of the jungle. She was no native, but a pretty blonde girl with disheveled hair and torn clothing. She was crying, and Riley could see that she was bruised and battered. He was astounded. He hadn’t heard that there were any white settlers this far out, except a biologist, Madeline Currie, who observed Colebus monkeys and kept to herself. Riley had met Dr. Currie, and this definitely wasn’t her. She came running up to Riley and grabbed his arm. "Please," she sobbed, "You’ve got to help me!"

Instinctively, Riley led her back toward the jungle away from the Quonset huts, as if he knew that she didn't want to attract the attention of the other soldiers. "What happened?"

"M-my husband and I are fr-friends of Madeline. We-we were visiting her, when we attacked by this…thing...this giant panther, only it didn’t seem like a real panther...it was so big, and it tore my husband and Madeline to shreds, I-I barely escaped!

Riley didn’t have to look up to know that it was a full moon. The whole clearing was bathed in its light. The girl was sobbing quietly. It was all very logical, except one for thing.

"Your husband, "Riley asked gently, "Is he a vampire too?"

The blonde’s head snapped up, and her tears dried instantly. She smiled. "You knew. Dru said you would know. She always surprises me. How could you tell? I thought I was pretty convincing."

"You were. I was thinking, Oscar, for sure." He rolled up his sleeve, and showed her his scars.

"Ah. You’ve been marked. Well, that will do it."

"What do you want? Why were you luring me out of the compound? Had a craving for take-out?"

The blonde smiled. "Nah...the trouble with soldiers is that you can’t eat just one. And there aren’t enough of us to take you all on. I have a friend that wants to meet you."

A friend! A thrill went through Riley. Could it be that dark woman from the Carnivale? He thought quickly. He had been carrying a stake since that night, hidden in his boot. Was he being totally stupid? Probably. But this was the first time that he had truly felt alive since he had left Sunnydale. He had to see where it would lead. He followed the blonde out of the compound into the night.

Riley followed the white of her shirt through the jungle. Soon they arrived at the cabin where Madeline Currie lived and did her research. As soon as he saw the cabin, Riley knew why he hadn’t seen the feisty doctor around lately. He had to ask. "What did you do to Dr. Currie?"

The blonde sighed, "Sometimes you just get tired of the local cuisine, and want some good old American food."

Riley felt a lump in his throat. Dr. Currie had been a mad old broad, but she had been alive and now she wasn’t. Just like that. Cold fear gripped him. Was he walking into something he couldn’t handle? The blonde vampire opened the cabin door. Riley had never been inside. It was a homey place, lit with kerosene lamps. Photographs of monkeys covered the walls. The one room cabin seemed to be empty. "Where’s your friend?"

"Hunting. It’s the full moon you know."

"You’re trying to tell me that your friend is the Panther Woman?"

The blonde laughed. "Let’s say, it amuses her to be the panther woman. Dru loves make believe. And you soldier boys aren’t too friendly to vampires, from what I hear, so we’ve been keeping a low profile. But Dru likes to act out now and again. This lets her cut loose a bit. She’s so…creative."

At that moment Riley heard the low roar, almost a chuckle, of a great jungle cat. And the back door of the cabin flew open and a tall dark figure bounded in. She was laughing, and her yellow eyes glowed in the lantern light. She was dressed in a black bodysuit, with the domino mask Riley remembered. The front of her suit was stained with blood. She gave a feral grin and brandished her nails at Riley. They had all been sharpened to points. Her mouth and fangs were bloody. She looked like nothing more than a large panther, fresh from the kill. Riley was horrified but fascinated, all the same. Was this the same black beauty that had been haunting his dreams? The blonde woman shook her head disapprovingly.

"Dru, honey. Go get cleaned up. We have a guest. Did you bring something back for me?"

Drusilla waggled her fingers toward the back door. "Out back. Better get it while it’s fresh." She turned towards Riley, "And look what you’ve brought me, daughter. A little tin soldier boy. He’s just the one I wanted too. Now don’t go away." She went over to the alcove where there was a basin of water and a pitcher. She tossed the domino to the ground and began to wash her hands and face, turning the water a dark red. Meanwhile the other vampire disappeared out the back door. Riley watched as the dark haired woman, casually unzipped the stained bodysuit and tossed it to the floor. Naked she strolled over to the narrow bed, picked up a red silk robe, and unselfconsciously put it on. Riley’s heart was thumping painfully in his chest and his mouth was dry. He had never seen anything like this. This combination of monstrousness and ethereal beauty. The skinny desperate whores in Sunnydale had been the dregs of vampire society, if there even was such a concept. These women, and he had to think of them as such, were royalty. He began to realize that stake or no stake, he was in over his head here. But he still had no impulse to flee. Why had they, she, sought him out? He couldn’t leave until he had an answer.

Drusilla walked up to him and touched the scar at his neck. Her fingers were, cool, nails as sharp as razors.

She spoke to him in a singsong voice, her accent broad cockney, "I’ve been looking for you…oh so long. I have a bone to pick with you naughty soldiers. But you kept moving around. So hard to catch. Then one night I felt you in the crowd. After that, the fireflies led me right to your camp."

She walked her fingers lightly up Riley’s face to his head, and ran her fingers through his sandy hair…Riley held his breath. He had forgotten Dr. Currie, and whatever poor creature was being drained outside the door. All he could see was Drusilla’s face inches from his.

Suddenly, she drew back as though she had touched a live snake. "The Slayer!" she hissed, "you love the Slayer! Oh, unfair, unfair!"

"B-buffy? You n-know Buffy?"

Drusilla’s eyes flashed yellow. "She stole my beautiful boy. My beautiful deadly boy. Even before you soldiers stole his brain...she stole his heart."

Riley was astounded. The phrase, ‘it’s a small world,’ somehow seemed inadequate. This was a girlfriend of Spike’s? Had Buffy ever mentioned her? Angry disappointment flooded him. She didn’t want him, Riley Finn; she only chose him because he was a soldier. It was all about Spike! And the damned chip! Riley knew he should have staked the bastard long ago. Well he would be damned if she got any information from him. He looked around…the blonde bitch was still outside...now was his chance. His hand reached for the stake in his boot. Quick as a snake, Drusilla caught his wrist. With her other hand she caught his other wrist, and pushed him back against the wall of the cabin.

Fight, dammit! Riley thought to himself. You can fight her. She’s not a woman, not human; she’s a monster, a killer! But Drusilla was pressing up against him, looking into his eyes, and he couldn’t seem to make his limbs obey his commands.

"Look into my eyes," she commanded, and he had to obey. He felt his will slipping away under the force of her hypnotic gaze. "My lovely soldier boy," she whispered, "You don’t want to fight me. You’ve been fighting us for so long. Now it’s time to surrender." She moved her hands to the insides of his elbows and touched his scars. "You know what you want. You know why you came here. The darkness calls you. It sings to you in the night. The Slayer never understood you. She didn’t appreciate what you had to offer. But we do, Darla and I. We need you. I need you."

Her lips touched his, lightly at first and then harder. Beyond fighting, beyond reason, Riley kissed her back. And in her kiss, he suddenly understood it all. Why Buffy had never loved him, and why Maggie Walsh had. Why he had sought out the vampire whores in Sunnydale. He understood, finally, that he could never win against evil, that it was in him and in everyone, to fight was futile and pointless. Angel would have understood how Riley felt at that moment, kissing Drusilla, for he had felt exactly the same way after his elevator ride to hell. The same despair that led Angel into Darla’s arms was leading Riley into Drusilla’s.

Riley Finn, thousands of miles and light-years of experience from his Iowa home, gave up the fight and surrendered to the power of Drusilla’s kiss. He never even knew the point at which kissing became biting, pleasure became pain and then pleasure again and when his consciousness became oblivion.