Petreius LaCroix walked down the long hallway of the train car, all his senses on alert. It didn’t seem necessary to keep an eye on who he was supposed to be, so others wouldn’t see who he really was.Ĭlosing his eyes, Xander let sleep claim him, wondering where he’d be when he awoke. But for once, it didn’t seem important to know all those things. Of course he had no clue what the hell he was doing, or where he was going, or what he would do once he got there. Despite his exhaustion, or lack of direction, he felt pretty good. It had been three weeks since he left Sunnydale, California, and except for weekly phone calls to Willow, he hadn’t had any contact with Sunnydale. He hadn’t slept soundly in days and he didn’t think a train ride to who knew where would be the place to catch up on his Z’s. He wasn’t entirely certain where the train was headed. It was time to see what type of trouble his baby brother was in the middle of now. He had put off this trip for far too long. Petreius took another long unnecessary breath as he stepped back into the railway car. Nothing happened in Toronto without Lucien’s knowledge. But the odds were good that Lucien was in the middle of whatever it was. No, his own people were dying, and no one knew how, or why. People were dying and not those that they survived on. The Council had only told him he was required, and that they had no time to waste. He hoped all was well with his brother, and it wasn’t he who had caused the problem Petreius had been summoned to fix. Although he wasn’t technically in the United States, he was close enough as far as he was concerned. That was how it was he was journeying across the world to the Americas. Something troubling, they believed he could help them with. It wasn’t often that a vampire of his power and age was summoned by the council. He hated to leave Europe itself, but he had been summoned. Petreius LaCroix walked through the crisp night air. After heating them up briefly, he poured the thick red substance into two mugs and handed one to Spike. “Good.” He walked into the kitchen and pulled out a couple of packets of blood. Spike nodded when Angel turned back around.Īngel smiled slightly. Spike entered the apartment and winced imperceptibly at the commanding tone in his Sire’s voice. “But while you’re here, you do as I say, when I say it. “Come in.” He invited before turning his dark eyes towards the younger vampire. “Fair enough.” He turned around and entered his apartment. “You owe me.” Spike hissed the words, his anger apparent, and not all of it aimed at his present circumstances.Īngel nodded. “I want you to take this damn chip out.”Īngel looked at Spike carefully before responding. “Do I need a bloody reason?” Spike countered, when Angel didn’t even bother to raise an eyebrow, Spike sighed needlessly and exhaled a ring of smoke. “Why are you here?” Angel asked as he eyed his childe warily. He didn’t know why, but he felt this would be the last time he’d be seeing it. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Xander took one last look at his basement. His life was confusing enough without having to worry about leaving the vampire behind to deal with Buffy’s constant ridicule.
The comment had been lost on Buffy, but Xander knew where the blonde would be headed. Spike had said something about going to torture the one demon he knew would enjoy it. Not because they were destroyed, but because they were destroyed before he could have his chipectomy. Spike had been angry at the Initiative’s destruction. The supremely annoying, irritatingly sarcastic vampire that had shared his basement with him on many occasions was leaving Sunnydale. The only other person he would have told, was leaving as well. If she did come back, he wouldn’t be there. She said she’d be back, but it didn’t matter. Anya had been frustrated with his attitude of late and had left Sunnydale herself. Buffy and Giles had their own lives to lead. She was the only person who knew that he was leaving. He promised Willow he would call once a week to let her know he was all right. It was with this thought in mind that he had packed a bag, just one, and left Sunnydale. Maybe, he wanted to do something, be someone. He sat around and moved from job to job and performed for Anya like a circus animal. So what of him? What did he do? Nothing, that’s what. Xander wasn’t exactly sure what that entailed, but whatever it was, Giles did it. And Giles, he did whatever it was retired English librarians did. Willow continued to assist her with research and the occasional spell. Buffy had stepped back into her Slaying duties, with Riley helping her. But now he was dead and they could all go about their normal little lives, couldn’t they? So it appeared. Not that Xander had been worried he wouldn’t die.
0 kommentar(er)
