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Son of a King

When women begin showing up dead all across Toronto with distinctive puncture wounds on their necks, Vicki Nelson, PI, is on the job – along with her 450-year-old vampire partner. But if he’s not behind the attacks – who is? A strange, young couple new to the city could hold the key to discovering the truth. Handling two kinds of vampires was hard enough. Just how many different sorts were there? Second story in the “Different Sorts” series FINAL CHAPTER -- NOW POSTED!

ATTENTION READERS: DO NOT STEAL MY STORIES. Someone has stolen some of my stories from this website and posted them as their own on fanfiction.net. It is plaigarism, it is stealing and it is illegal. Read, enjoy -- but don't steal. Second story in the “Different Sorts” series -- takes place after "Different Sorts." Crossover with Buffy and the new “Blood Ties” series on Lifetime. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

6. Chapter 6

Rating 4/5   Word Count 2278   Review this Chapter

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Angel ran to her side the minute he saw her and Spike stumble through the doorway. The others – already back from their night’s patrol – watched on. Buffy was still pale and clammy – her skin sticky from sweat that had only partly dried in the cool night air. Spike tried to release her gently, but she still tumbled from his arms – weak from her discovery – and fell into Angel’s grasp. He held her up and led her to the sofa.

Buffy leaned into Angel, relying on his support, and held her knees against her chest. She was rocking back and forth, very gently, and there were still tears in her eyes.

“Buffy, what’s wrong?” Angel asked.

She shook her head. “No, not again. Not again. I can’t do it again. Not again. No.” She muttered under her breath, her body trembling.

Angel looked up at Spike and Henry. “What happened?”

Henry just shrugged – he still didn’t know what had set her off– and Spike just shook his head. Even he could not talk about it yet. He was only a few moments from breaking down as badly as Buffy, and he fought with every fiber of his being to keep that from happening.

Angel looked around desperately for help. Buffy was going into shock and she needed help – but he still didn’t know what was wrong. As Angel moved from face to face in the room, he was met by the same confusion he felt – until Edward.

If possible, Edward seemed even paler than usual. His face had gone ashen and his eyes were wide and dark. Bella clutched at his hand, concerned – but still confused by the horror on her husband’s face.

“Edward?” Angel asked. The vampire broke his gaze from Buffy and looked to Angel, still horrified. But he nodded when he met Angel’s gaze – understanding his unasked questions.

Edward slowly got up and walked over to Buffy. He knelt down in front of her, taking her hand between his own icy palms. She was still hot – and the coolness of Edward’s skin helped comfort her, if only a small amount.

She looked up at his touch – tears still in her eyes. “I can’t do it again,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. She knew Edward could see her thoughts – the horrible memories coursing through her mind at that very moment. Buffy’s biggest battle – her war – and the casualties, the trauma … the destruction.

Edward felt the force of those memories – it reminded him of something Buffy had once told him, about carrying the weight of the world. At this moment, he felt the pressure of that weight bearing down on him just through the power of Buffy’s memories.

“Oh – my – god,” he said, fighting back cold tears of his own, as the full power of Buffy’s memories washed over him.

Buffy had dropped her mental block – she was trembling violently on the sofa in Angel’s arms – and let Edward in to see everything.

He saw flashes of stories he’d already heard – first, Buffy’s sacrifice – the jump that killed her and saved her sister; saved the world. Saw her buried in a coffin and awaking there from the dead – clawing her way through satin and cedar and dirt. Walking around the town, sight blurred and mind confused – wondering if the world was Hell. He saw her fall from grace – her torrid affair with Spike before he got his soul back. He saw her learn to live again and to love life and to share it with her sister and her friends.

Then he saw the Bringers – men with no eyes, hunting girls. They were potentials – potential Slayers – and they were hunted like game by these sightless monks. He saw the evil they wrought – and then Edward saw something worse. He saw why they were killing these girls; why they were trying to take out the Slayer line. He saw their master. The First.

The First Evil – the one who started it all. He was an ancient creature, incorporeal – but more frightening than any boogey monster of a child’s nightmare. He was nowhere and everywhere – he took any form – even your form. He saw the First tormenting Buffy and her friends and her sister and these girls. These scared, confused girls. He saw the First take them out – one by one, and not always with violence. He used mind games and tricks – fooled some into killing themselves. He saw the First take the form of Buffy’s nightmares; then he saw the First take Buffy’s form.

And then he saw the battle. The battle he’d only heard about before in passing. This was the battle that had changed the nature of the world – that had made potential Slayers into actual Slayers.

He watched Buffy lead these girls into the Hellmouth – the doorway into the netherworlds – armed with nothing more than a few swords and some shards of wood. He saw the vampires – none like what he knew; these were ancient beasts – older, even, than the Volturi – attack. They came in waves, heedless of their own existence and caring only to destroy as many of the girls as they could. They were an army – the army of the First.

Edward saw through Buffy’s eyes as her friend’s spell took hold and turned the potentials into Slayers – but then watched them fall, regardless. Killed, maimed, destroyed. He felt the searing pain of a wound, a potent memory, from a sword slicing through Buffy’s abdomen. He saw her fall. And then he saw the First – in her own form – taunting her. Tormenting her mind. It wasn’t enough that she was physically wounded; no, this creature had to hurt her mentally, as well.

But Buffy was stronger – barely – and growled back, “Get out of my face.”

She’d risen – Edward watched her stand, the wound that had just a moment ago stung so much was now merely an irritation. Buffy faced her fears and faced her enemy with renewed vigor. She used her most powerful weapon – the Slayer’s scythe that had transformed the potentials – to beat back the vampires.

And then Edward saw Spike – bathed in light. It was coming from a gaudy necklace and Spike was grinning as he felt the power of that light in his body. Felt his soul on fire inside of him, finally knowing it was really there. He saw Spike make his sacrifice.

Edward watched Buffy say goodbye to Spike – before he was consumed by the light and the fire, destroying the Hellmouth (and himself along with it).

Edward watched Buffy run to escape, barely leaving a rooftop before it crumpled below her as the strength of Spike’s sacrifice spread – taking out the city of Sunnydale right along with the Hellmouth. He saw Buffy jump down to the bus carrying her friends and hold on as they sped away from what was once their town.

And finally, Edward watched through Buffy’s eyes as she gazed out over the crater where Sunnydale once stood. He felt her sadness at losing Spike and some of her friends; some of the new Slayers. And then he felt her hope – that she wasn’t alone now; that she had a chance for a life now.

And then Edward was back at the present day, and he understood now why Buffy was trembling so. The First was coming back – and he was threatening everything she had worked so hard for.

The First would not be so easily fooled this time – he would come back harder, stronger. Buffy and her friends barely made it through last time – this time … this time, Buffy wasn’t so sure. And she didn’t think she could do it again – the fight, the sacrifice.

Edward looked to Spike and registered a similar bundle of memories and fear. Spike had died beating back the First that last time. It was only a fluke that he’d come back as a ghost, and then been returned to his earthly form. It was only a fluke Spike was here today, but he was not about to give up that gift so easily. He was not ready to make that sacrifice again.


He looked up, startled, his thoughts interrupted. It was Angel.

“What is it?” Angel asked.

Edward let go of Buffy’s hands and stood back up. “It’s something called the First.”

“What?” Angel said. “No, it can’t be …”

“It is. I don’t know how, I didn’t get that far,” Edward replied. “But I understand now why she’s so upset. I don’t blame her – or Spike. I don’t blame them at all.”

Angel nodded. He had not been there, but he knew enough of the fight in Sunnydale to understand. He’d been the one to bring Spike’s necklace, after all. Although, Angel had intended to wear it himself in the fight – until Buffy had sent him away. He was her backup – the second front, in case she’d failed. Angel had experienced his own dealings with the First, as well – and that memory alone sent shivers down his spine. It was the First who tried to convince Angel to kill himself.

“The First?” Vicki asked. “I’m sorry, but what’s the First?”

Angel and Edward exchanged a glance, then looked around the room. Vicki was not alone in her question – it was clear from their expressions that Mike, Henry and Bella were equally curious and concerned about this new development.

“The First is the First Evil,” Angel said. “The source of it all. If God created man – then the First created demons. Imagine the most heinous acts in all of history, all of mankind – imagine the most wicked beings possible. Then multiply that tenfold – no, a hundredfold. That’s the First. He is the master of all evil. And apparently, he’s back.”

“An army,” Buffy muttered, still rocking back and forth. “He’s raising an army. They want to resurrect him; bring him back.” She shook her head, her eyes wide and frightened. “I can’t do it again.”

“Buffy fought the First several years ago,” Angel explained. “It was a war – the war that made potential Slayers into actual Slayers. Spike died fighting the First in that war. Don’t ask me how he’s here today – I’m still not quite sure how that happened.”

“What does he want?” Vicki asked, concerned. “This First guy?”

Angel shrugged. “Probably to rule the world. That’s what it’s usually about. To spread evil, stamp out good.”

“Then we’ve got to stop him,” Henry said boldly.

Spike rolled his eyes and plopped himself onto the sofa beside Buffy dismally. “Well, duh. But if there’s any fancy jewelry involved this time – I’m not wearing it. Captain Courageous here can do it.” Spike shivered involuntarily and ran his hands through his bleached locks.

“Henry, you have to understand – we can’t just go in, guns blazing and take this guy out,” Angel said. “It doesn’t work like that. We can’t exactly kill him like we could other creatures.”

“What do you mean?” Henry asked.

“He’s incorporeal,” Angel explained. “He has no body – instead, he’ll appear to you in someone else’s form. Anyone who's died. Perhaps someone you’ve known.”

“Like the girl you love,” Spike said.

“Or he’ll just steal your face,” Buffy muttered, still rocking.

“So what does kill him?” Henry said.

Buffy’s body stilled. She raised her head from her knees and looked up. “Nothing. You can’t. The First is evil. You can only stop him by fighting evil – but he’ll never die.”

Henry scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. Everything can be killed.”

Buffy’s fear was changing into anger now. She was angry she had to fight this battle again; angry that the first war wasn’t enough. She stood and whirled on Henry.

“Death isn’t the end,” she said. “You, of all creatures, should know that. Look around you. Almost everyone here has died, yet, somehow, is still walking around. Edward and Bella died and became vampires. You died and became a vampire. Spike was a vampire and died as a vampire and then came back again! I killed Angel when he was a vampire, and he came back. I’ve died twice – and I’m still here! Death is not the answer. The First cannot be killed.”

“But—“ Henry was interrupted.

“Can you kill God?” Angel asked.

Henry pursed his lips. It had been centuries since his human life, but he remembered learning about God and the Church. And he realized Buffy was right. Death was not the answer. Death could not stop the son of God; it didn’t stop the son of a king. And apparently, it didn’t stop some of the extraordinary people in this room. And it could not stop evil.

“So what can we do?” Henry asked finally.

The others looked around, their eyes finally settling on Buffy. The anger was burning in her veins. She was still frightened, but she was also pissed off now – pissed that she had to fight the First again. And now she was ready for some action.

“We can’t kill the First,” she said. “But we can take out his army. And I know a couple of people who can help us out.”

Buffy looked at Angel, a glint in her eye, and dialed her cell phone.

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