FIC: Born Again (4/?)

["cilia" <cilia@xxxxxxxxx>]

Well, well,
Here's more of the good stuff and I hope you enjoy.
Cilia

Title: Born Again
Part: 4
Author: Cilia
E-mail: cilia@xxxxxxxxx
Feedback: Oh yes with and extra order of complements.
Distribution: Go for it, but keep my name attached and please tell me about
it.
Rating: PG
Summary: Willow has come to Europe to stand on her own two feet, but an old
friend might be just around the corner.
Thanks to Ollie for beta reading this and Stan for reading this and telling
me straight out what was wrong with it.


Born Again
Cilia

Chapter 3

Another night came after the day as it always has been and as it always
shall be. The city was bright even during the night, but the narrow
alleyways between the houses in the old town were dark and cloaked in
shadows. A perfect place to hide and wait for prey. In one such alley
between two tall gothic buildings a battle was being fought.
"How many times have I got to tell you this," Willow said as she
kicked the vampire again her coat flapping as she spun.
"Just give it up," she exclaimed and elbowed it in the face.
Five minutes out of the quiet street where she lived and she'd met her first
vampire of the night and this one was definitely of the local stock, tough,
old and with fierce left hook.
"You really think you can kill me?" it asked in a voice that
carried to accent.
"As matter of fact," Willow said as she ducked another swing and
then landed a punch in his side. "I do," she added and followed through by
grabbing him, falling down and throwing him into the wall.
"You're good kid, real good," the vampire said, "but time is on
my side. While you may have ruined my dinner for the evening, it matters
not, so I bid you good night," he said and was gone.
"Damn," Willow cursed and hit the wall.
The vampires of the Old World weren't stupid, probably came from living for
so long. The one who had just pulled a Houdini on her was Michael, perhaps
one of the youngest of the cities elders. She'd staked his sire after a week
of constant hunting. The elders were refined and at times they could even be
charming. Kind of like those that Anne Rice wrote about and Spike cursed
about.
So, factor in their high intelligence and the fact that they
were few, but powerful. Willow was happy if she got maybe one a night, but
there was always a childe somewhere to fill the gap. Last evening had been
dump luck and she'd probably done the locals a favor by eliminating the
competition before it got settled in.
"One more circle around the old town and then home to bed," she
mumbled.
The major plus of the city's elderly population of vampires was that they
didn't sire children in great numbers, they were more into snacking, and
that made cemetery patrolling a thing of the past for Willow the wicca.
She'd found out early that each vampire had it's own hunting ground and many
were located in the old town. Her street was marked as her terrain and no
vampire stepped on it, after she staked the vampire that hunted there of
course. There were three save havens in the city that no one fought or fed
on: her street; the Church Library and the church that served it; and
finally the spot called the Meeting Place located in cave under the city and
accessible only through its vast network of tunnels and catacombs.
Willow looked up at the mark on the wall as she entered the
territory of a vampire named Nathaniel. Each vampires territory was marked
by their symbol or glyph, hers was marked with an ankh. Nathaniel was old
vampire and a true gentleman, but a fierce fighter nevertheless. He thought
of her as sport, a slight amusement to lighten his evenings.
"Well, well. What do we have here?" he asked as he stepped onto
the street with a smile on his face. His staff made a clicking said against
the brick laid street.
"Swords or fists?" Willow asked calmly.
She'd given up the crossbow a while back, since they just seemed to either
sidestep the bolts or just catch them. So she went back to basics.
"Swords tonight I think," he said and drew a blade from his
staff.
"You know this isn't the way it should be done," Willow stated
as she drew a slim sword from her coat.
They were in stark contrast to each other, he with his top hat and in his
dark nineteenth century clothing and she in her a all black assemble, black
waistcoat and sunglasses. They truly were from two completely different
eras..
"But it is so much more civilized," he stated as they started
walked towards each other.
"My offer still stands," he said as they met in the center of
the street, "come work for me and I assure you that you won't regret it."
"Sorry, gotta calling remember?" she said with shrug her
shoulders.
"Very well then. En garde!"
The fights with Nathaniel were always fun and Willow confessed that being on
first name bases with vampires wasn't idle and having fun wasn't something a
designated honorary slayer should be doing, but that was just the way the
game was played here.
"Good form," Nathaniel commented as he blocked her strike and
their swords crossed.
"Not good enough if I'm going to kill you," Willow gritted
through her teeth and pushed him away.
"Well it's been fun, but I really have to go now," he said,
disarmed her so she fell on her butt and was gone.
"Damn, damn, damn," she cursed as stood and rubbed her sore
behind.
It would take some time before she could take down Nathaniel, but the real
problem was that they weren't the psychopathic killers like the vampires
around the Hellmouth Granted they did kill, but otherwise they made no
plans to jump start the Armageddon They didn't even sire that many children.
Still, it was a mission.
"Some mission," Willow muttered as she picked up her sword.
"Surrounded by vampires that think I'm incapable of killing them
and regard me as late night entertainment at best," she muttered as she
strolled along the street.
This was true, the vampires did consider her entertainment. That was until
she'd landed enough punches or had stolen away one meal too many. Then they
got kind of angry, but they never banded together and so far that fact had
kept her alive.
"What I would give for some action," she said and went into her
inner pocket in search for her palmtop, but found a letter with the seal of
Nathaniel instead.
"Son of a bitch," she cursed as she opened the envelope and
unfolded the letter. It was writing in flowing letters and read:
"Dearest Adversary,
It has been brought to my attention that one of our
kind entered the city no more than two nights ago. He's an elder, although
not by many years, but likely to cause trouble and therefore upset the
status quo. Would you be a dear and take care of this. If you do so I'll be
in your debt.
Yours truly, Nathaniel De'Night."
"The nerve of that guy," she muttered as she folded the letter.
Still a new master in a town of master vampires could cause a stir and she
liked things as the were. She wasn't proud of it, but the death count was
low and the fights clean.
"I'll think about it in the morning," she said and put the
letter back in her pocket.
Once she was home she changed out of her hunting clothes into a pair of
boxers and baggy t-shirt. As she turned down her bed she noticed that the
picture of Spike had fallen off the mirror. She walked over and fastened it
again.
"Wonder what they're all doing?" she thought as she looked over
the pictures.
Somewhere in the city a dark figured walked out of a pub, music flowed from
the inside as he opened the door.
"The sun will be up soon," he muttered in his British accented
voice as he swaggered down the narrow street without a clue that he was
being watched. Maybe, just maybe, if the alcohol level in his blood were
lower he would have noticed and taken instant action. But being on
walkabout, well kind of as it was almost over, Spike or William the Bloody,
the scourge of Europe and parts of Asia Minor was too plastered to notice
the female form that followed him.

TBC....