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New Order - A Buffy the Vampire Slayer novella

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Chapter Three

The bathroom was cramped, the air heavy with moisture and heat. A towel wrapped around his waist, Spike emerged from the shower and stepped into the dingy hotel room, drawn by the sound of Drusilla's voice. She had been quiet for the rest of their journey to Egypt, in a kind of deep trance from which she woke only infrequently to share with him something about hedgehogs and silver tea sets.

He stripped off the towel and dabbed with it at his face and neck. The heat of Cairo was unbearably oppressive. The sluggish ceiling fan that served as the Osiris Hotel's air conditioning system offered little relief from the climate of the Egyptian capital.

Under the cover of night, he had helped Dru from the hold of the cargo ship. They were met on the docks of the Suez Canal by members of the Order of Aurelius. Acting on instructions from Malik, the vampires brought them to the Osiris where they'd spent the last two days resting while trying to locate another of Laibach's chosen ones.

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Spike watched with curiosity as Drusilla danced before six members of the Order who had gathered in their room to admire the one who was host to Laibach.

"Now the serpent was more cunning than any beast of the field and he said to the woman..." Dru paused. "I don't remember what her name was," she said, finger to her mouth, "but I think she was starkers quite a bit."

She smiled and Spike thought it was one of the most wonderful things he had seen in days.

"And the serpent asked the naked lady, did the Lord God forbid you to eat from the Tree of Knowledge? And the naked lady said, yes."

The vampires had come to bask in her presence, but as Drusilla spoke to the audience like a nanny to a room full of barely-weaned tots, they began to glare at her. Any rational mind would see the hostility rising in them - but they weren't dealing with a rational mind. Not even close, thought Spike.

"So the serpent got the naked lady and her equally naked boyfriend to eat some of this oh so special fruit and... "

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"And they were cast out of Paradise," said one of the Order. "We told you, we are all well versed in-"

"Not at all," Drusilla interrupted, frowning sternly and shaking a finger at him. "Not even Miss Edith was ever so rude. Further interruptions will result in a nasty paddling. I shouldn't think you'd enjoy it, either."

"Now then," she continued, and she smiled as she seductively clutched at the front of her dark, cotton skirt. "The starkers couple ate the fruit and became as smart as the Lord and went about their business, and the serpent went on his way continuing to help all those in need of his special skills."

Drusilla slowly hiked her skirt, revealing long, shapely legs. "Don't you just love a happy ending? I find them so very exciting." Her dress continued to climb.

"I've heard enough," said one vampire, jumping to his feet. "My head is ringing from the madness you've been spouting."

Spike cleared his throat and sauntered into the room. "Yeah, well given she's playing incubator to the Lord of Mosquitoes or whatever his title is in the nether realm, you might want to consider being a more polite audience."

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The vampire backed down, returning to the others with a pathetic grumble.

"Hello, dearheart," Drusilla said happily. "I feel as though I've been asleep for days. I've got ever so much energy. Would you like to hear a story?"

He leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. His eyes could not help but stray to the symbol on her forehead, a constant reminder that they were in the grip of a higher power.

"That's all right, turtle. You can tell me a story later. Me and the campfire lads here have some business to discuss. Why don't you be a nice bird and go count the stars on the balcony."

She hugged herself happily. "Yes, what a lovely idea. Maybe they'd like to hear a story."

"I'm quite certain they would. Go on then." Spike patted her rump and steered her toward the balcony.

"I know just the one," she said. "It's about a beautiful maiden whose love would do anything for her to be able to see her reflection in the mirror again." She walked to the open double doors that led out onto the balcony overlooking Cairo. "I hope they don't mind that it ends sadly."

"We are tired of waiting," one of the Aurelius members said as Drusilla left the room.

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"If the Order is to be reborn, let it be now. All this waiting is driving us to madness," another said.

Spike retrieved a pack of Egyptian made cigarettes from a bedside table. "I certainly sympathise with your impatience, believe me I do." He lit the smoke and tossed the pack back onto the nightstand. "But higher powers are calling the shots here and I'm not about to let a case of twisted knickers foul things up."

He blew a cloud of smoke in the their direction.

One of the vampires hissed and bared his fangs. "We swore Malik answers to your commands?"

Spike blew a ring of smoke up into the ceiling fan and watched as the blade dispersed it. "You've a lot of bluster in you, haven't you? Here's the truth, then, and no playing about. Laibach gave me the job. Don't especially want it and if any of you can convince him to give you a promotion and let Dru and I be on our way, I'd be eternally in your debt. And eternity, well, it's an awful long time.

"If you can't talk the big spook into letting me alone, though, well, you'll just have to shut your gob and do what I tell you, before the eldritch power of the Old Ones decides to roast your carcass on the fire of eternity and feed your flesh to maggots. Again and again. Forever."

The vampire who had spoken smiled in terror. "Forget I mentioned it."

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"Done. And now that we've got that sorted, you'll wait like a good gaggle'a lackeys until I tell you it's time to put things in motion."

The six vampires scowled as the door to the hotel room swung open and the shape-shifting vampire, Malik, strode into the room. They jumped to their feet in anticipation as they saw what the vampire had with him. A small, dark skinned boy nervously looked around the room, eyes wide and white.

"I told you to bring us information about Scylla - not a bleedin' Happy Meal," Spike said, eyeing the frightened youth.

Malik reached down and grabbed the boy by the ear. "Looks can be deceiving," the vampire said as he gave the ear a nasty twist. "I have done what you asked."

The boy yelped and Spike watched as he began to tremble with fear.

"Come out of your shell, demon," Malik ordered. "Show yourself or we will rip open this costume of flesh and expose you ourselves."

The little boy began to cry, looking around the room and muttering in Arabic. Spike recognized a word here and there, most of them having to do with blood drinking demons and being sorry for his sins.

Enraged, Malik leaned over and bellowed in the child's ear, "Show yourself!"

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The child instantly stopped crying. "All right, all right," he said in a petulant voice that would have sounded more at home in Brooklyn than on the streets of Cairo.

Spike was intrigued. He watched with fascination as the child's body began to undulate as if made of something other than flesh and bone. He opened his mouth then and it grew wider and wider until the jaw popped from its alignment.

"This is interesting," Spike said with a grin, as he folded his arms and watched.

A noisy expulsion of foul smelling gas and a thick viscous fluid erupted from the darkness within the child's body. Something crawled around in there. Thin spindly arms appeared first, followed by a strange, bullet-shaped head. The creature pulled its long, slug-like body from out of the boy's mouth and dropped to the hotel floor.

"That has to be one of the most disgusting things I've ever seen," Spike said.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," said the slug demon as it brushed thick dark, slime from its stick-like arms, "like sucking blood from somebody's throat is the freakin' ballet. We're monsters. Disgusting is what we're about."

"Azz is a Trehadji demon," Malik said, his voice a low rumble. "They inhabit the bodies of dead children and use them to lure their prey. This one happens to be privy to some information that could help us."

Spike puffed on his smoke, eyeing the foul little creature squirming around in brownish liquid that seemed to exude from its thick, muscular trunk of a body. "That so? On with it, then. Not getting any younger. 'Course, I'm not getting any older, either."

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The demon shook its oddly shaped head. "I've got no idea what you guys are talking about. I don't know who've you been talkin' too but you've got the wrong Trehadji. As I told tall, dark and feral here, I don't know nothing about any blood swillin' sweetie goes by the name a' Scylla."

His movement like lightning, Spike reached down and grabbed the demon around what he believed to be the throat and lifted it to his face. Eye to eye. The Trehadji demon squirmed in his grasp as foul-smelling liquid leaked from its body and spattered to the floor.

"C'mon," Azz sputtered. "There's no need to get rough. If I knew anything I'd tell ya, I swear."

Spike gave the creature a good shake and brought him closer. His features had gone feral as he sniffed around the demon's body. "Never tried the blood of a Trehadji before. Hear it's an acquired taste. Once you get past the bitterness, that is."

"All right, all right," Azz shrieked. "I'll tell you what I know but some other customers ain't going to be happy with me."

Spike let go of the demon and it plopped to the floor in a puddle of its own excretions.

"Talk," Spike demanded.

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The demon stroked its leathery throat where Spike had been holding it. "Give me a second, will ya? Let me catch my breath." Azz took a deep breath and then began. "All right, about a week ago I was approached by the Order of Sages and they-""Who?" Spike asked.

The creature sighed, annoyed by the interruption. "The Sages? They're kind'a like Watcher wannabes. You see 'em more out this way than back in the States. Can I continue?"

Spike nodded, finishing the last of his cigarette and dropping the ash to the floor. The still burning embers sizzled in the demon juices.

"The Sages come to me 'cause the word is out - obviously - that I know stuff. They're looking for a vampire with a difference called Scylla. Just so happens I saw a vamp that went by that very description during a little field trip I took over to Luxor a few days back. I'm very observant that way."

"Yeah, good for you. And?" Spike prodded the foul beast with the toe of his boot.

The creature shook its head, obviously ticked that it wasn't getting through to its audience. "And, they paid me for my services and headed for Luxor."

Malik looked at Spike and then to Azz. "How long ago was that?"

The demon shrugged its bony shoulders. "Three days, give or take."

Spike rubbed his hands together as he looked from Malik to the member of the Aurelius order. "Well, looks like we're taking a trip to Luxor then. Let's hope that Laibach's little honey has been able to keep one step ahead of the Sages."

The demon chuckled from the floor. "Yeah, that'd be really awful if you didn't get to her. All this time wasted, your time - my time." Azz cleared his throat and held out his misshapen hand nervously.

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Spike glared at the creature. "Your concern's quite touching. I'll be sure to pass that on to Scylla if she should ask who sicced the bloody Sages on her." He turned toward the balcony to retrieve Drusilla when he felt something tug at his pants leg.

Azz was holding onto the material, looking up at him with dark, beady eyes. "I don't think you understand what I'm getting at. I need some payment for the dirt I just gave you."

Spike began to chuckle amiably. The Trehadji demon joined in.

"Believe me, I know how it is," the demon said, letting go of Spike's pants. "You get so caught up in what you're doing, you forget things. Happens to me all the time."

The demon held out his hand again. "Just pay up and I'll be on my way."

Spike knelt down to the demon's level. "Hate to put a damper on your night, but we're a bit tight on cash right now. Tell you what I will do though."

The demon clenched its tiny fists.

"I'll put a good word in for you with the great Old Ones and I'll bet they'll be so tickled by your help that they'll put aside some vestal virgin or something equally attractive for you to crawl into once they return to earth. How does that sound?" Spike asked with an intimidating grin.

Azz quickly turned from him and began to slither up the leg of the child's body. "Yeah, sure. That'd be great. Appreciate it. Skinflint" He forced himself into the open mouth, gradually disappearing inside the hollow of the child's body.

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Spike watched as the boy's eyes blinked and his overly extended jaw began to close, returning noisily to place. The body, suddenly animated, headed for the door.

"Thanks for the info, Azz," Spike said cheerily as the demon pulled open the door.

"Don't mention it. Now I remember why I don't do business with vampires." The demon slammed the door as it left.

Malik turned back to Spike. Averting his eyes he asked, "What do we do now, Spike?"

Puffing himself up a bit, Spike gazed toward the balcony where Drusilla stood looking off into the night. "Bring the car around front. I'll fetch the missus."

The vampires filed out the door as Spike moved to the balcony. "Drusilla?" he called softly. "We're going to Luxor now. A little birdie tells me we'll find our stray there. Well, a nasty little slug, but nevertheless."

She continued to stare out through the darkness at the city below.

"Dru?" he called again.

"I feel eyes on me, Spike. Dirty eyes," she said turning slightly to look at him fearfully. "I was telling the stars my sad story when I felt them touch my body."

Spike enfolded her in his arms. "There, there, pet. Nothing out there but snacks." He kissed her tenderly on the neck. "Let's get our things together and be off, shall we?"

Spike turned her gently from the balcony's edge but she could not take her eyes from the night.

"The wind has my scent and finds it delicious. He's out there, Spike," she said, a trace of fear in her voice. "He's out there waiting for us."

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Azz muttered beneath his breath as he stepped from the lobby of the Hotel Osiris into the sweltering heat of the Egyptian night.

"Vampires," he growled as he walked toward one of the many labyrinthine alleyways that wound their way through Old Cairo. "Bring me nothin' but trouble, every time I deal with em, nothin' but headaches. When am I gonna learn to stay clear of blood suckers?"

The demon in the body of a child headed toward the Moushi Bazaar. He pulled up the tattered sleeve of his coat and gazed at the illuminated dial of a Rolex. Seeing the time he swore loudly and turned abruptly down a tiny side street - a short cut. He was going to be late for an important appointment with a sorcerer in need of a very rare crystal used to hold extracted human souls. It was a deal he couldn't afford pass up and now he quickened his pace - and collided with a large figure that seemed to appear out of nowhere. It was dark in the alley but he could see that the man was quite big, wearing a wide brim hat and a heavy overcoat. For a brief instant, the demon pondered the question of why someone would wear so much clothing on such a hot evening.

"My apologies, good sir," Azz said in his most childlike voice. "I did not see you."

He tried to move around the large man, but the figure moved to block his path.

Azz manipulated the muscles of the child's face and smiled angelically. "A thousand pardons sir, but if you would be so kind as to let me pass, I shall bother you no more."

The demon stepped back with a heavy sigh. He felt his soul crystal deal flying right out the window.

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"Look pal," Azz said, annoyance creeping into his now adult sounding voice. "Get the hell out of the way before I kick you in the nuts."

"The vampires," responded the man, his voice nothing more than a whisper. "You have spoken to them?"

Azz slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. "The friggin' vampires, again. Yeah, I spoke with them. What's it to you? They owe you money too?"

The man slowly removed the hat from his head to reveal a shock of dark wiry hair. He moved closer to Azz. "I need to know why they are here," he said in a barely audible voice, his hand moving to undo the top button of his coat.

The man stepped into a patch of moonlight and Azz saw that he wasn't dealing with a man at all. The thing was horrible, a bestial demon whose countenance sent a surge of primal terror washing through him. Azz sniffed the air to confirm his suspicions. It was a Lothgar demon, and probably on the hunt. Then, with the face of a child, Azz smiled. If the Lothgar was hunting those vampires...

"Easy does it there, pally," he said putting up his hands in surrender. "The vamps are no friends of mine, they even stiffed me on the bill."

The Lothgar brought a hand to its throat and Azz could see that something had recently torn into the dark flesh. The damage looked to be so extensive that Azz wondered how it could have possibly survived. Now he knew why the guy was whispering.

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"Tell me everything," the Lothgar demon hissed.

"What's to tell?" Azz said with a shrug of the child's shoulders. "They're looking to find some vampire broad and I sent 'em to Luxor. Looked like they were plannin' to be on their way tonight."

The Lothgar seemed to think a moment, a hand drifting back to the puckered scars in the flesh of its throat. "Then that is where I shall slay them."

Azz smiled up at the primitive looking monster. "Can't say I'll shed many tears for that bunch. Vampires, I can do without 'em if you catch my drift." He reached out and gave the Lothgar a friendly pat on the arm. "It's been great talkin', but I'm late for an appointment and..."

He tried to make it past the Lothgar but again found his way blocked.

"Look," Azz said angrily, "I told you what you wanted to know, what else do you want from me?"

The Lothgar demon held out one of its large hands and Azz watched with perverse fascination as thick black claws slid from each fingertip.

They look sharp, he thought - just before they rakeked the front of his body.

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"I have not fed since leaving Paris," the demon said in a sibilant whisper.

The child's body was ripped open from throat to crotch and Azz tumbled out of the exposed cavity in a state of shock.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Azz screamed as he writhed about on the filthy city street. "What's with the violence here? You want food? I'll get you food, there's no need for the rough stuff. Please... "

The Lothgar demon shook its shaggy head slowly, thick ribbons of saliva dribbling from the corners of its mouth. "No time," it growled as it reached down with its horrible clawed hands.

Azz tried to get away, to squirm across the rock and brick, but the beast was too fast. It grabbed him, razor sharp claws sinking into the flesh of his body. He fought valiantly, but as he was brought inexorably closer to the demon's mouth and the rank smell of its breath filled his nostrils, he knew that this was the end. As the first bite was taken from his midsection and his life fluids spattered the ground, he again ruminated on the reason why he seldom did business with vampires.

Nothing but trouble, he thought as another hunk of his body disappeared down the gullet of the Lothgar demon and his life gradually came to an end.

Nothing but trouble.

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Within the temple of Amun-Ra, the vampire Scylla wound her serpentine body around the Obelisk of Queen Hatshepsut and waited for her pursuers to arrive.

They had come for her at dusk, rousing her from her resting place in the basement of the Luxor Museum of Antiquities. She pressed her face against the Obelisk, feeling the coolness of the pink Aswan granite and allowed it to calm her. She used the brief respite to reflect upon the attack. It bothered her that they had not attempted to destroy her as she slept, even though they'd had every opportunity.

In her mind's eye she saw them as she awakened, how excited they became as her body began to transform, gaining the deadly attributes of an enormous serpent.

"Yesssssss," she hissed to herself as she recalled the words of the man who was their leader. "Bind her at once. The Order of Sages will reap much knowledge from this one."

They had wanted her to awaken. They wanted her alive, so that they might discover how a mere vampire had come to possess the power to alter herself so.

Scylla slithered around the pillar further to peer at the entrances into the temple and listened. Had good fortune smiled upon her? Had she lost these Sages who hunted her?

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The sounds of boots falling upon sand and hushed whispers chased away any foolish notion she might have had about good luck. The vampire tensed as she watched and waited. She would study her prey before she attacked, assessing their weaknesses and using them to her advantage. That was how she'd survived these hundreds of years and Laibach willing, would continue to survive.

Scylla saw them, cautiously creeping into the temple with handheld flashlights, the darkness dispelled wherever the powerful beams touched. Some carried lanterns and began to place them about the great ceremonial room. Their heads were covered in hoods, their bodies wrapped in flowing dark robes, and they were well armed. She could feel the arcane energies radiating from their weapons. They were not a hastily gathered rabble out to eradicate evil from their homeland, she thought. No, this group was organized and had access to items of great power.

She was trying to decide if it would be more prudent to flee deeper into the ruins, where human body types could not follow her, when the leader strode into the temple. He was a large man, with a long, grey beard and a look of great cruelty in his eyes. Normally she would have found this an alluring trait, but it did little to arouse her now.

"Prepare yourselves, my brothers," she heard the leader say, his voice thick with an accent she could not place.

He removed a dagger from inside the folds of his clothes. It appeared to be forged from some kind of dark metal, perhaps bronze.

"The Dagger of Ayshaia will force this once sacred place to reveal where the evil is hiding."

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She had never heard of the Dagger of Ayshaia but she did not like the sound of it at all. Scylla was preparing to come down from the obelisk and slither off into the shadows when the leader muttered an arcane incantation and threw the dagger down to impale the earth.

There was a flash of searing white light and then everything seemed to turn grey. Scylla shrieked pitifully as she fell to the temple floor, numbed by the shock of supernatural power.

"Wrap her in the Net of Nimrod." She heard the leader's commands from what sounded like miles away. "It will keep her immobilized for the trip back to Vienna. Those pompous assess in the Council of Watchers will burn with envy when they learn of our prize."

Scylla lay perfectly still, conserving strength as the Sages stalked closer. Through eyes barely open, she saw that two of them were almost upon her. Each held a circular mystical talisman in defence. These wards would do them little good, but if she did not act immediately all would be lost. She could not abide imprisonment. Not ever.

Scylla rallied her strength and attacked. She pulled back her tail and snapped the end of the great appendage like a bullwhip at the soft pink flesh of one of the men's throats. A mighty crack filled the temple air and she took enormous satisfaction in the obscene bent of his neck as he fell to the ground in a twitching heap.

The other foolishly attacked with his mystical weapon, a coin of sorts made from the purest silver. He lunged at her, touching her chest with the artefact.

Scylla shrieked in both pain and rage. It felt as though she had been set aflame. How dare this pathetic bag of flesh hurt her! She reared back and caught sight of four others coming toward her with a net that shimmered with all the colours of the rainbow. It was almost mesmerising, the colours warm and calming.

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Almost.

She dove with a ferocious hiss at the coin-wielding man, using the coiled muscles within her lower body to propel herself forward with terrifying speed. She dodged beneath another attempt to burn her with the sacred coin and buried her fangs deep in his throat. His blood tasted of foreign spices and she drank deeply.

A new strength surged through her serpentine form. She tossed the empty corpse aside, reared back and snarled at the others.

"Come, then," she hissed, licking the blood of their brethren from her lips with a red forked tongue. "If you want me, come and take me."

They hesitated briefly and then rushed at her. There were more than she had realized and they swarmed upon her, each using a blessed talisman that burned, shocked, froze or nauseated with every touch.

Her claws became slick with the blood of the enemy but still they came. She was growing tired, distracted. Too late, she sensed behind her the approach of the four men with the Net of Nimrod.

Scylla spun around to face them but the net engulfed her. The colours of the confining weave danced before her eyes and she felt the strength drain out of her. She slumped to the ground.

"A most excellent acquisition," she heard the leader gloat as he gently kicked her shoulder with his foot. "Those who gave their lives in obtaining this prize will be remembered as heroes."

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As she lay beneath the weight of the mystical net she began to whisper a prayer; a prayer she had last uttered more than two centuries earlier on an island in the Mediterranean. It was a prayer to an ancient god, long forgotten by most of her vampiric kind. She had used it, promising her fealty for power greater than what she had already possessed. It was a selfish prayer, but she had heard Laibach was a selfish god.

On that night so long ago, the great Old One had heard Scylla's prayers and bestowed upon her the power of the serpent.

On this night, she prayed not for power, but for salvation.

It was a truly amazing thing, she believed, to have one of the ancients respond to her prayers - but to think it would happen a second time was a foolish wish.

Their hands were upon her as they lifted and dragged her mass from the temple. She could feel the warm desert winds caress her fevered form beneath the net. The leader continued to praise his men, talking of the untold wealth of knowledge they would gain from the violation and dissection of her body.

She smelled the nauseating aroma of diesel fumes as she was hauled up and placed inside the back of a transport truck. "Take her to the citadel in Aswan," she heard the leader of the Sages say.

The voice she heard next was one she did not recognise.

"Come on, now, you uptight gits. That's no way to treat a lady."

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Her thoughts raced as she strained to twist her body around to see what was happening beyond the back of the truck. It looked to be some kind of stand off between the Sages and an odd looking couple, a man dressed entirely in black leather, his hair white blond, and a beautiful woman dressed in a flowing gown of velvet. There was a menacing calmness about the man's demeanour, Scylla thought as she watched him casually light a cigarette with the Sages' circle slowly tightening around them.

"I don't suppose that you've put your hands on the woman we're looking for," he added, taking a quick puff from his smoke. "Blood drinker named Scylla, has the flashy talent of turning into a snake. Quite the life of the party, I'd imagine."

"A party with snakes," his ethereal female companion added happily. There was an edge of excitement to her sing-song voice. "Imagine how fabulous that would be? All that hissing and slithering about. Let's do it, Spike, let's have a party and invite only snakes."

"That'll be the first thing we do, love," Spike said. "Soon as we bring the Master back from the dead zone and restore the Old Ones to power, it'll be my number one priority."

Spike. Scylla had heard of this one. And if this was Spike his companion must be Drusilla. More than a century before they had been part of the "family" that surrounded the legendary Angelus. Scylla's mind raced. Why were they looking for her?

The Sages' leader removed an ornate crucifix from within his robes and held it out before him. "We were unaware that the shape-shifter had allies, but I warn you vampire, the Order of Sages is always prepared."

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Through hooded eyes Scylla watched as Spike and Drusilla averted their gaze from the holy icon. Several other Sages began to move closer, brandishing blessed weapons of their own.

"Yeah," Spike replied, flicking his cigarette away, ember glowing in the desert night. "You and the boy scouts. But I've eaten my share of those little monsters as well. The Order of Sages. More like the Order of bloody posers."

Spike's features contorted, shifting to the guise of the vampire, his eyes flashing with fury. He turned to face the Sage commander, reaching out and plucking the crucifix from the man's grasp. The vampire's flesh sizzled where he held the holy item, but in a movement like a blur, he plunged its pointed end into the leader's throat, then let the holy implement fall to the sand.

"I've killed two Slayers and Dru a third. We've culled our share out of the Council of Watchers," he said to the dying man as he shook the burning pain from his hand. "You twits aren't fit to wipe their bums."

Drusilla put her fingers to her mouth and let loose with an ear splitting whistle. Scylla was intrigued as the shadows all around the temple of Amun-Ra suddenly seemed to come alive. A swarm of vampires streamed from the darkness to descend upon the Order of Sages. They tried to defend themselves and several of the vampires were impaled or decapitated, but the vampires' numbers were too great even for the sacred weapons wielded by the Sages. Soon enough their screams filled the air and their blood showered the desert floor.

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Was that a tiger tearing the head from one of the Sages with a single swipe of an enormous paw? It was almost too much for her to comprehend. Her mind was awhirl, as if caught within the hallucinogenic grip of a fever dream. Scylla craned her neck within the net and saw Spike and Drusilla making their way toward her in the back of the truck. Drusilla held Spike's burnt hand to her mouth, licking the seared, mottled flesh. Scylla wanted to speak, to question them, but she was still too weak from the Sages' attack and the mystical properties of the net.

They stood over her, staring at her through the enchanted netting. The woman's eyes were wide with wonder.

"Oh look at her, Spike. Isn't she marvellous?"

"Course she is," Spike scoffed, reaching down to grasp a handful of the net. "Wouldn't travel all the way to Egypt for just any snake woman."

He pulled the net from her and immediately she could feel the strength returning to her leaden limbs. With a savage hiss, Scylla reared up on her muscular lower body, swaying hypnotically before the two who had set her free and who had spoken of the Great Old Ones.

"What do you want of me?"

"Easy, girl," Spike replied, his gaze wandering admiringly over her serpentine form. "We've been sent to collect you for a very old friend."

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She looked out beyond the two to see the other vampires standing over their ravaged prey, watching - waiting. "I do not understand," she whispered more to herself than to those who stood before her.

The one called Drusilla came forward then and climbed up into the back of the truck. Scylla suddenly felt calmer, almost peaceful.

"Do you not know me?" a guttural, distant voice asked from deep within Drusilla's throat. The madwoman moved her hair away from her forehead to expose the mark there.

Scylla gasped. "Laibach." The notion that the Elder god had again answered her call was almost too much for her to bear. She felt somehow both humbled and raised to glory, all at once.

Drusilla reached up with her hands to hold her face. "I have need of you."

"I am yours," Scylla replied in a trembling whisper.

"Yes. Yes you are."

Their lips locked in a kiss of passion and utter devotion.

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Spike lay back against the feather pillow on the four-poster bed and closed his eyes. He was in the master bedroom of the estate he and the Order of Aurelius had commandeered. The blazing desert sun had risen outside but still he did not feel the pull of unconsciousness he so desperately craved. He needed to rest, to recharge his battery for what was to come many thousands of miles away in Sunnydale. He contemplated counting sheep but every time he tried that trick the poor little lambs in his imagination were attacked and eaten by snakes and tiger demons.

A high-pitched squeal followed by the sound of laughter filtered through the wall from the living room next door. His eyes snapped open and he sighed with exasperation. It would seem the Aurelius boys still hadn't finished with the house's former residents.

Spike glanced over to see if Drusilla had been awakened by the scream. But no, she lay facing him, undisturbed. As he gazed at her he was amazed at how absolutely innocent she could appear. Much like the sweet and fervently religious girl she had been when Angel had first set about driving her mad.

They had travelled for hours trying to beat the sunrise when they came upon this rather luxurious home on the outskirts of Dakhla. Spike had sent the comely Drusilla to the front door for an invitation, a method of gaining entry that had worked for their kind for millennia. Spike smiled to himself. The classics never went out of style. Drusilla had been amazing to watch, masterful, playing the role of a lost tourist to a tee. It was only a matter of minutes before she convinced the servant to invite her inside to use the phone. That was all they needed. The house was theirs.

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Spike looked away from his love and closed his eyes. Watching the pleasure she got from tricking the servant and then feeding upon him - it was almost like having the old, playful Drusilla back. But deep down he knew that wouldn't happen until after they took care of business in Slayer country. It chilled his bones to think what might happen if Buffy interfered with Laibach's plans before the Old One released Drusilla. There was too much at stake this time around. If the Slayer stuck her nose in, put Dru in danger, Spike would have her guts for garters once and for all.

There was another shriek from the room next door. In a flash of anger he tore the boot from his foot and violently tossed it at the wall.

"Here now," he yelled, "stop playing with your food or I'll bloody come out there and take it away!"

It grew very quiet as he lay back down with an exasperated sigh. Maybe now he could finally take a rest. Spike could feel sleep coming at last, as if he were resting comfortably deep within the cold, dark earth. He began to sink deeper and deeper into its black embrace. Yes, this was what he needed, this was-

"Spike?" Dru whispered very close to his ear.

He came awake with a start and turned to face his lady fair. "What is it, pet?"

She wriggled closer to him. "Did I wake you?" she asked coyly.

Spike rolled onto his side and put his arm around her waist. "No bother, I was only just starting to nod off."

Drusilla ran her fingers through his white hair. "What's next, my love?" she asked as she nuzzled his cheek. "We've done everything we were asked, where do we go from here?"

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Her affections toward him roused his desire. Spike began to nibble on her neck and earlobes. "Once the sun sets we'll head over to the airfield in Luxor, grab a quick bite and catch the first flight out of the land of the Pharaohs."

She grabbed his lower lip in her teeth and bit down hard, drawing blood. He flinched, but did not pull away. Spike pressed his lips to hers in a passionate kiss, his own blood smeared between their mouths.

"I hate travelling by air," Drusilla said pulling her lips away from his. "All that planing and deplaning to keep ahead of the horrid sun."

His hands slid down the small of her back to the gently rising slope of her perfect rear.

"And before we know it, we'll be back in Sunnydale."

The thought seemed to douse the flames of his desire and he pulled away to lie upon his back again. "After our last visit, that's the last place I want to be," he said with a heavy sigh.

Drusilla rolled atop him and gazed down into his eyes. She smiled as she brought her mouth down to his ear and began to squirm against him. Spike grinned, his arousal returning.

"But you don't have a choice," said the voice of Laibach in his ear.

Repulsed, he gripped her by the shoulders and tossed her to the other side of the bed. "Bloody hell," he spat.

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He watched her land on her back, a monstrous laugh escaping her mouth as she bounced. "Just a reminder, Spike, in case you've forgotten how important this mission is to me."

"How could I forget," he grumbled, his desire for Drusilla as unattainable now as sleep.

Drusilla curled up in a tight ball and closed her eyes. "Good night, love," she cooed in her own voice. "Sweet dreams." In seconds she was fast asleep.

Still unnerved by the Old One's intrusion he grabbed the pillow from his side and tossed it to the floor. There was something about bedding down next to the woman he loved that he now found frighteningly unnerving.

Spike lay down on the floor, closed his eyes and again chased the sweet oblivion of sleep.