Half Breed: Part Four
by JeanetteB
Still the Library

Willow unsheathed her laptop and set about preparing to net-surf, listening to Leonora. The rest of the group was still gathered around the library table.

“So, okay, who’s the person you’re looking for and why do you think we can help?” Buffy asked, arms folded across her chest.

“She goes by the name of Li. I figured since you’re a Slayer, he’s a Watcher,” she nodded towards Giles, “and you’ve got a lively vampire population that you’d have the skinny on anyone new in town.”

“So this Li, she’s a vampire?” Giles asked.

“No. She’s dhampir, like me. Petite. Black hair. Blue eyes. Huge forehead. Speaks with a heavy Romanian accent.”

Cordelia cocked her head. “Why do you think she’d be coming here? Why not someplace else?”

“Because there aren’t a lot of places that are centers of mystical convergence, or that sit on a Hellmouth. A person like Li is drawn to power and you guys are living on top of a demonic atomic bomb. With the Master gone once and for all, it’s fair game.”

“Okay, is there anyone out there who doesn’t know about the Hellmouth?” Xander broke in. “What do you guys do, take out an ad in the Vampire Daily News? ‘Want to try your hand at world annihilation? Come to Sunnydale, California—Home of the Hellmouth!’ Geez, we may as well put up a sign. It’s our number one tourist attraction.”

“Except that the tourists are undead,” Buffy offered. She turned to Leonora. “Sorry, can’t help you there. Haven’t seen or heard of anyone fitting that description.” Willow’s keyboard started clicking away in the background as the hacker began accessing information on the World Wide Web. “And how do you guys always know about the Hellmouth?”

“The dead travel fast—and word travels *faster*, especially in those circles. You can’t keep…”

“Um guys,” Willow interrupted tentatively from her laptop. “I think you might want to have a look at this.” Everyone trooped over to the computer and crowded around Willow and her screen.

“What did you find, Willow?” Giles asked, adjusting his glasses and staring uncomprehendingly at the screen.

“Okay, uh, remember how you had me bookmark some sites on occult artifacts? Well, I did you one better. I flagged those sites to notify me when something new is posted on one of them. And when I logged on just now, I got notified that this site had been updated.” Willow clicked on the photograph of a book. “Something called the Arcanorum Grimoire has been stolen from a museum collection.”

“Oh dear,” Giles murmured, scanning the text concerning the theft. “Reputed to be a book of powerful spells and rituals…dating back to the 13th century…” Giles trailed off, his taking on a faraway look. “The name sounds vaguely familiar. I’ll need to check my books to see what spells the Grimoire is supposed to contain. Was anything else taken?”

Willow clicked on another icon and a picture of a small white marble statue appeared on the screen. The statue was of a naked young woman, arms raised, piling her long hair on top of her head. It had a fluid grace about it, as if it would come to life and step off the pedestal: a testament to the sculptor’s art. The statue was simply titled “Muse”.

Xander leaned forward, eyes tracing the marble image. “Wow,” he breathed. Then he tilted his head and his gaze grew more intense. “I mean, wow! Hey,” he said, turning to Leonora, who now stood away from the others. “She looks exactly like you.”

Willow also looked closely at the statue’s face. “Xand’s right. It does look like Leonora.” She slewed around in her chair. “Except for the naked part, I me…” she trailed off when she looked at Leonora’s face, causing everyone else to focus attention on the dhampir.

The dhampir’s skin was paler than usual, and her face was expressionless, like a mask. “It is me,” she answered flatly, her voice dry and dead. The only life in her was her eyes, which had begun to glow faintly. She stood sword-straight and totally still, but menace rolled off of her in waves.

“Leonora,” Giles began, and stepped away from the computer. “What is it?”

“Her. I was right. She had a stop to make first. The theft of that particular statue is her way of taunting me. But she *is* coming here.”

The Bronze—

Xander sat at a table with Leonora and watched her sip a cup of tea. It had been his idea to take her to the Bronze, and as such, it was his duty to sit there and try and distract her. Giles, Willow, and Oz had stayed behind at the library to do some more digging on the Arcanorum Grimoire, but it had been hard for them to focus on their task with Leonora looking as though she might tear apart something with her bare hands. And so the Bronze was suggested: it was dark, it was loud, it was crowded. And it would keep the research-impaired out of the way.

He looked around the room, scanning the sea of bodies that filled the dance floor. Buffy was one of them, having been asked to dance almost as soon as they got there. Cordelia had disappeared soon after, presumably to mingle with her higher social strata of friends. Leaving Xander to entertain Leonora. Which was kind of awkward—what did you say to someone who’s 328 years old? ‘How’s about that French Revolution? Those wacky Frenchies!’ He didn’t think so.

“So, uh, how long have you been chasing her?” he asked, spitting out the first thing that came to mind. He smacked his forehead when he realized what he’d said.

Leonora put down her cup and looked him in the eye. “131 years.” His eyes rounded and she smiled.

“Believe me when I say WOW.”

“It’s a lifestyle,” was her flip reply.

“Hey, whatever gets you through the millennia.” He grinned at her and she laughed. Their humor seemed to run along the same channels.

“I’m curious,” she said, leaning forward. “How did you wind up hanging around with a Slayer?”

Xander gave her the abbreviated version of his meeting with Buffy and his discovery of her Slayer-ness. Leonora listened intently, clearly fascinated with life on the Hellmouth. “So, a couple of saving the world’s later and we’re playing the Pips to Buffy’s Gladys Knight.” He paused while Leonora chuckled. “And since we’re playing ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’, what’s the deal with that statue?”

She was quiet, running her finger around the rim of her cup. Xander continued to stare at her, intrigued at the way her face went blank at the mention of the statue. “It has something to do with Li, doesn’t it?” he asked quietly.

Leonora nodded. Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she began. “Long story short: she killed the man who sculpted that statue of me. In repayment for something I’d done to her.”

“She couldn’t just send a Hallmark card?” A wan smile crossed her face. Showing un-Xander insight, he said, “I take it you loved the guy.”

“Oh yes,” she whispered, meeting his gaze. He looked away, unsure of what to say. There wasn’t much he *could* say, considering the closest he had come to love was groping Cordy in the broom closet. He spotted her holding court by the stairs, probably discussing something of monumental importance, like hosiery or lip gloss. He tried to catch her eye, but she was too absorbed in what she was saying to notice.

Leonora noticed. “You and the prom queen?” At Xander’s nod, she asked, “So why don’t you go up to her? You obviously want to talk to her.”

“It gets sort of complicated when Cordelia’s other friends are around. We don’t particularly get along in the sense that they hate me. Ordinarily it doesn’t bother me, but sometimes…” he trailed off and shrugged, not sure of what he wanted to verbalize.

Leonora understood; Xander, like most teenaged guys, wasn’t too hard to figure out. If he wanted a little positive attention from Cordelia, her group, and the guys in general, she’d be more than happy to help. She owed him for his good-hearted attempt to distract her from her troubles, and she liked her scales balanced. So when the DJ spun a slow song, she took Xander’s hand and led him to the dance floor.

His first attempt made her frown. “I’m going to teach you how to dance and make your reputation as a ladies’ man at the same time,” she said. Xander looked startled, but nodded his assent. His eyes grew even wider when she put her hands on his hips, holding them still. “Now then,” she instructed, her voice low but brisk. “You have to feel the rhythm of the music. Move with it, not against it.” Her hold lightened as her own hips moved in time with the beat. Tentatively, he imitated her. She moved a hand up and closed his eyes. “You’re concentrating too much on what it looks like. Focus on what the music feels like.”

When he had learned that lesson sufficiently, Leonora moved in closer, pressing her body closer to his. “Now the eyes,” she told him, as Xander opened his. In her peripheral vision, she saw both Buffy and Cordelia take note of what was happening on the dance floor. Several other teenaged guys had also noticed and were watching from the side. She smiled, then caught and held Xander’s gaze. “The gaze in the most important part of the dance. You can hold someone by your eyes alone. No matter the space between you.”

To illustrate her point, Leonora swayed away from him, maintaining her attention on his eyes. There was force there, and power, and sexual attraction. And slow growing confidence. Very good. He understood that lesson. He, in turn, moved towards her slowly, still in rhythm and still meeting her gaze. A challenge stood in his eyes, a challenge she accepted. Excellent.

He slipped an arm around her waist and drew her arm up until it rested on his shoulder. He could see Cordelia’s face in the background as they turned a half circle and smiled at Leonora. The dancing lesson had certainly gotten her attention, not to mention that of half the patrons in the Bronze. Leonora slid her hands down his chest, then back up to encircle his neck. There was a very wicked gleam in her eyes now, and she whispered in his ear, “Your reputation as a stud is fairly secure I would think. And Cordelia looks ready to spawn a goat. Is that what you had in mind?”

“Thank you.”

The song was ending, the last few notes dying away. Leonora lightly brushed his lips with her own, then said, “I’m heading to the library. Perhaps the others have found something.” She disengaged herself, grabbed her jacket from her chair and disappeared out the door. Xander watched her go, then was getting slaps on the back from his peers. A highly irritated Cordelia and a puzzled Buffy were also making their way towards him.

Xander grinned. Dancing with a mysteriously beautiful older woman certainly had its advantages.

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