Xander looked at his watch for the third time in as many minutes. “You don’t think she got Vamperized, did you?”
Willow looked appalled at the concept, but gripped Oz’s hand harder. “Buffy’s not Vamperized. She’s just… tardy. She’s known for that, you know… she’s Tardy Buffy.” Willow thought about what she was saying and winced, deciding to shut up rather than try to recover.
Oz stroked her hair affectionately. “It’s always best to be safe rather than sorry with a gig like Slaying.”
“We are being safe! We’re constructing a nice, safe scenario for Buffy to be in. Hey, maybe she just went off to make with the smoochies with Angel.”
“Okay, that’s it. I’m calling her house right now,” Xander said, getting up from his seat and dashing toward the payphone.
“Xander, wait. You can’t call her house… her mom thought she was just going to go patrolling,” Willow reminded her best friend.
Xander slowed. “Right. Well, let’s call Giles. Maybe he knows what’s the what. Hey, maybe she went there to inform Giles of a new and exciting demon. Think there’s a research party in the offing?” he asked. He apparently sounded too enthusiastic, judging by Willow’s amused look and Oz’s raised eyebrow. Xander sighed. “I know, I know. I need a life, pronto. Don’t rub it in.” He walked over to the corner of the club and picked up the receiver, dialing Giles’ number by heart.
***
Angel reluctantly left Buffy’s side and joined Giles at the table. He’d much rather watch Buffy’s every breath to make sure she’d be all right, but he felt helping with the research was the least he could do. Angel’s brooding was pretty much a trademark on his personality on most occasions, but when Giles was around, that went double. He had to constantly restrain himself from apologizing. Mostly, he just didn’t want to bring it up, but he also knew his words would mean nothing to the Watcher. If anything, it would impede Giles’ current opinion of him.
“I’m going to start on these volumes,” Giles stated. “If you could start on that pile, it’d be much appreciated. I haven’t any idea what sort of demon it might be, but the description you provided certainly reflects recent familiarity in my mind; these are the books I read last week.”
Angel scanned the multiple piles of books and raised an eyebrow. “And I thought I read a lot,” he muttered. He pulled the first book in front of him and began leafing through it methodically.
They’d only been working for ten minutes when the phone startled both of them from the quiet. Giles sipped his tea as he got up to answer the phone. “Hello?” he asked.
“Hey, Giles.” Xander’s voice was unmistakable. “Have you heard from Buffy at all tonight? She was supposed to meet us at the Bronze after patrolling, but never showed.”
“Xander, excellent. Yes, she’s here now. She was attacked.”
There was a pause on the other end. When Xander spoke again, his voice was thick with dread. “Oh, God. Is she all right?”
“We’re… not sure. She was barely alive when Angel found her, but her pulse is strong now, though unconsciousness is still upon her.”
“Was it a vampire attack?” Xander asked instantly, no doubt suspecting Angel.
“We believe it began that way, but there’s something we believe is much more serious involved. Angel and I are researching it now… and we could use some help, actually.”
“Hold on.” Giles could hear the muffled noise of Willow and Oz assenting to come and help. “We’ll be there in a jiff.” He hung up the phone without another word.
Giles glanced at the receiver, only slightly offended at the lack of proper acknowledgement, and returned to the table. “Xander’s on his way over to help with the researching efforts,” the Watcher provided. He smiled in vague amusement as Angel’s face took on a look of disgust. “Willow and Oz will be with him as well.” Angel’s face relaxed slightly and he glanced at Buffy, almost reflexively. Giles followed his line of vision. Both men watched the unconscious Slayer for a few minutes before returning to work. Much as he disliked Angel, they shared at least one common interest, and that was enough.
***
He could smell her. The sensation washed over him, like a wave in an ocean of power. He’d never quite smelled this before; not even that girl earlier had smelled as good as this. She was the ticket.
He followed the smell, moving as quietly as he could, careful not to disturb the foliage. The scent grew stronger, and his lust for it increased. Soon he was no longer in control of himself; regardless of the consequences, regardless of the useless being at her side, he would get her. There was no compromise. He would get her.
He had to. No one was that powerful anymore. For centuries, he hadn’t found anyone with this kind of potential. Now here she was. She wasn’t aware of what she possessed, he realized all at once, and that made him want her more.
All at once, he stopped dead. The air had taken a much different energy. Something was wrong. Her scent was overpowered by that of something putrid; something terrible that gave him a sense of being that was the complete opposite of lust, and yet so close to it. He realized that if he could smell it with such intensity, that it could smell him equally.
He no longer had the upper ground.
He turned and fled. But, he vowed to himself as he ran, he would still get her. That beautiful being that simply taunted him with potential and perfection. He would find her again. She couldn’t resist him forever.
When the Hound wasn’t around, he’d make his move.
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