"Thank you so much." Wesley said to the waitress as he picked the sack up from the counter. He stepped out the door, balancing a drink container in one hand and carrying his and Cordelia's late supper in the other. A flash of lightning in the night sky made him regret his decision to walk, but at the time it had seemed silly to drive only four blocks. Nudged onward by the smell of the coming rain he quickened his pace, hoping to get back to Angel's office before he was soaked to the skin.

As he passed the small parking lot adjacent to the cafe he heard the clatter of metal accompanied by an exasperated "Come on!" Wesley slowed a bit, catching sight of a woman struggling to remove the lug nuts from her flat front tire.

Chivalry collided with the urge to stay dry as a cool gust brought a few heavy drops of rain splattering down the street. With a sigh he made a U and approached the woman. "Do you need some assistance?"

"Uh... no. I'm okay." She answered while scrambling to her feet.

Wesley caught her nervousness and stopped at the back bumper. "I would be happy to help."

She waved the tire iron at him and backed away. "Sure you would. That's the oldest trick in the book."

"What do you.."

"You flattened my tire then come and help me and then I'm found dead in the hills." She squeaked.

"Well I tried, suit yourself Madam." Wesley said, somewhat hurt that his offer had been rejected. He turned and began to walk away.

"Uh.... wait a minute." The woman said hesitantly. "Maybe it would be okay if I stood over by the wall while you just kinda got these loose? I can change a tire but I can't get those bolts... uh, you know...started."

Wesley looked back over his shoulder and smiled at her. "If you would feel comfortable with that arrangement, it is fine with me."

She nodded, laid the tire iron on the hood and took a couple of steps back. "No offense?"

"None taken." Wesley said while placing his sack and carrier on the trunk. "Your caution is very wise. Rest assured I have no intention of harming you, but in this day and age a lone woman cannot be too careful." He picked up the iron, knelt down and began to try to loosen the first nut. "Ummmm... these are on solid." He shut his eyes and strained with the effort, unaware that the woman was now directly behind him, oblivious to her proximity until she bent down and whispered in his ear. "I guess I shouldn't have put them on so tight."

In the same heartbeat as the coolness of her breath registered in Wesley's brain the vampire's fangs sank into his throat. He tried to swing the tire iron around but she locked her arms around him, drawing him tighter into the embrace of the dead. His vision began to blur as his blood pressure dropped and he began to quiver as all strength fled from his being. As if in slow motion he felt his body being released from her grip and he fell backward into the gravel. Random sensations fired in his dying brain, the weight of a form straddling him, the rain on his face as the heavens suddenly opened, the taste of the siring blood upon his tongue and the hissing laugh of the creature as she drew in to drain the last of his life.

Then the darkness came.

Rita allowed herself the luxury of licking the wound clean before she proceeded to place the body that would soon become a dark incarnation of Wesley into the car. "A Watcher!" She shouted to the empty street as her demon danced within her. "I've taken a Watcher as mine!"

As if in response, a bolt of lightning stabbed the earth a mere block away.

Leaning back into the car she carefully arranged Wesley into a sitting position and strapped the seat belt around his corpse. Opening the glove compartment she took out an aerosol can of "Flat Fixer" and reinflated the tire.

"They fall for it every time." She chuckled. " 'Every'-time."

Cordelia dropped the venetian blinds back into place. "Now, along with me being 'officially' starved, it's 'officially' pouring! Why didn't he drive? This is LA! Everybody drives! I know he's just sitting down there waiting for it to stop raining so he doesn't get wet." She crossed her arms and gave Angel a "do something about this" look.

"So he's smart enough to stay out of the rain." Angel answered without removing his attention from the book before him. "It won't last long, just keep looking..."

"Yeah, keep looking." Cordy snipped. "Keep looking thorough these dusty, musty old books for some dusty, slimy ax demon thing while I starve to death." She gave her head a toss. "Starve to death for free I might add. Not like this little crusade is going to pay any bills around here."

"They're usually not dusty 'and' slimy." Angel grumbled. "And if there is something demonic over there we..."

A simultaneous flash/crack of lightening and thunder shook the building causing both to startle. Angel stood and retrieved his keys. "That was close, maybe I should go down and get him."

"I see. Worry about him getting electrocuted but not a thought about me." Cordelia commented in true Cordy fashion. When there was no response she glanced up straight into her boss's annoyed expression and asked. "What?"

"You're not going to starve to... never mind. I'll be back in a minute." Angel snapped and went out the door giving it a slam to show his displeasure. Cordelia was driving him crazy, Wesley had been underfoot and this entire night had been wasted on futile research over a possible demon. A small story in the paper had reported that city workers had sighted a seven foot tall, ax wielding gorilla in the foothills. At first he had arched an eyebrow and laughed, sure that it was probably a six foot human prankster. But then Wesley had commented that this was almost the same description of a creature which had been sighted around Hamburg in the 1800's. Angel wrinkled his nose and mocked Wesley's understated comment, accent and inflection. "Nobody really paid much attention to it until it started axing up brides on their wedding night."

Angel opened the back door of the building and stepped into the covered tenant parking area. He came close to morphing into vampire as he saw the stream of rainwater which had found its way through an unseen hole in the roof, traveled down a beam and was pouring directly onto the driver's seat of his convertible. "Tonight just gets better and better." He groused.

It took a few minutes to close the top and wipe out the car enough so that he was not swimming and driving at the same time. As he finally pulled out he noticed that the rain had lessened considerably and even though it was probable that Wesley was most likely already on his way back, Angel decided to go ahead and pick him up anyway. Mumbling under his breath, the vampire slowly drove down the street and pulled into the restaurant lot. No Wesley to be seen, only an employee of Ed's Cafe cleaning up the days litter. He rolled down his window and shouted to the man. "Hey! You seen a tall, English guy wearing a tan coat?"

"Yeah! He was in here about twenty, thirty minutes ago, right before we closed."

Angel acknowledged the answer with a wave and returned to the office, sure that Wesley had taken refuge from the downpour in a sheltering doorway and by now had beaten him back.

Cordelia looked up as Angel came through the door alone. "Well? Where is he? And did you know your pants are wet?"

"He's not here?" Angel asked with immediate concern. "He left the cafe over a half hour ago."

"If he was here why would I have asked you where he was and..." Cordy stopped as Angel's words sunk in. "...it only takes about five minutes to walk down to Ed's." Her eyes went wide. "You don't think that something happened?"

"Stay here, lock the door." Angel ordered as he whirled around to backtrack on foot.

"No way! I'm coming too!" Cordy yelled as she grabbed her coat and followed on his heels. Angel did not even bother to argue with her as they ran down the steps to the front door. Once they reached the sidewalk Angel morphed. "Cordelia, don't say a word. Keep your eyes open for anything but don't distract me."

"Got it." She whispered with a gulp, for even after all this time the appearance of Angel's true self bothered her. Slowly and quietly they made their way through the drizzle until they came to Ed's. Cordelia peeked through the front window at the closing crew and confirmed that Wesley was nowhere to be seen. She joined Angel in the parking lot and found him kneeling with his face inches from a handful of gravel he had scooped up.

"Blood." He hissed, then he took a second then third deep inhale. "Human blood."

"Wesley?" Cordelia whispered. "Is it Wesley?"

"I don't know. It's faint." Angel sat back oh his heels. "The whole parking lot smells. Not long after I came to LA there was a stabbing here and a man bled to death." He stood and scanned the lot trying to get a feel for the origin of the blood. "The rain has muddled up the scents and I can't tell if it's a tiny amount of fresh blood or a large amount of old."

Cordelia began to pace back and forth. "He's okay, I know it. If he wasn't I would be having one of those vision things, right? I would have had a vision of calling for a pizza instead of asking for a tuna salad, right?" She stopped directly in front of Angel. "Right? That's right? Right? I mean, these things save strangers so they.. should.. save..." Her voice faded out as Angel wrapped his arms around her. "Yeah." He answered with as much hope as he could muster. "You're right. He's got to be okay."

Exhaustion overcame terror and with a whimper the young man curled into the corner to spend his second day in chains. Rita pursed her lips at the sound coming from the back room, but did not waver as she continued on with her work. Before her a scene that most mortals would consider fantasy, but what she knew as truth unfolded on the canvas. Entitled "The Rising, VI" the painting showed a newly animated vampire on it's knees before a demolished crypt with its head tossed back in a howl of triumph, announcing to the living and the dead that it was free. To the side stood the sire, watching his creation with cold satisfaction while above a wintry mist shrouded a crescent moon.

"You're lucky." Rita said the still figure on the bed. "You won't have to slog hell and gone through the countryside looking for your first vessel. I starved my first two nights because everything and everybody was locked up tighter than a drum. I'll say one thing about the old days, the peasants knew what was coming down and sometimes you would go for months before you got a good human kill. You're lucky in that respect too. Hunting is so much easier these days."

Rita stepped back, appraised her work and with a few final flicks of the brush added her signature. "You know, I wish I could show us as we are instead of the way the breathers imagine us, but that won't pay the bills. So I improvise a bit to keep all those adolescent, demon obsessed, vampire wanna'be punks happy. Isn't that a scream? They think my vampire art is so cool, but if I would flash them a little fang 99% of them would die of fright before I got the first bite in."

She walked over and sat down on the bed. "But not you. No, you're a Watcher, you know what's happening. You see, I was up in Sunnydale about a year or so ago doing sketches of the El Eliminati." Rita shook her head and laughed. "They were pretty vain vamps. Never seen such serious posturing and posing, but I was able to complete my Warrior series with them. But while I was hanging with them they pointed you out. Told me you were the new Watcher and I thought 'cool' and went on my way 'cause I wasn't going to mess with a Watcher, Slayer combo plate. No way, Jose. Learned my lesson on that 400 years ago, back in Barcelona."

"But then last week I see you in the Magic Eye buying some stuff. So I start following you. You were kind of a night owl..." With a grin she leaned over and stroked Wesley's cold cheek. "...and you definitely are one now. Anyway, I found out where you live and work and everything else. Found out that you don't hang with a Slayer anymore. I felt like I was getting close to making the kill, so night before last I went out and got you your very first vessel. Wasn't that nice of me?" Rita yawned and stretched, then laid down beside him. "Then tonight I see you heading down to that greasy spoon and said to myself, 'this could be it'... and it was... and the rest is history."

With a second yawn she scooted a bit closer to her new companion and drifted off to rest until the end of the day would bring his rising.

Angel barely beat the sunrise. That one last possibility had been a wash, the night's search had been an exercise in futility. Wesley was gone... gone without a trace, without a clue, without a sign. He stumbled into the office and collapsed into his chair.

"Did you find him?"

"No."

Cordelia bit her lip and tried to busy herself with making coffee. "You came in the front door, and the sun's up." She commented just to avoid the coming conversation concerning what might have happened.

"The tunnels are flooded." Angel muttered as he put his head into his hands. "It's going to be awhile before I can use them again."

"Yeah, the news this morning warned everyone to stay away from the river and the drains and everything because of the rain runoff thing." Cordy shuddered a bit. "You don't think that's what happened do you? Like maybe he saw something and followed it down into the sewer and then he got... got...."

Angel finished her sentence. "Swept away by the rising water? Yeah, it's possible. Wesley wouldn't have known about how fast the water can rise down there."

Cordy began to nod and a thin hopeful smile appeared on her face. "So he might just be trapped down there with rats... that's good."

"No." Angel disagreed. "The water is at least waist deep and moving fast. If he was down there he's..."

"Don't say that!" Cordelia shouted. "He's not.. you know, he's just NOT!" The coffee pot dropped from her hand and shattered into a million pieces. She grabbed her head and doubled over in pain as the vision came screaming into her mind. Angel leaped across the desk, wrapped his arms around her and helped her into a chair.

"What is it? What did you see?"

"A v-v-vampire." She whispered. "A real ugly one, a bunch of real ugly ones... coming out of the ground and out of these mausoleum things and caskets and... it's like they weren't real."

Angel's brow furrowed. "Not real?"

"Pictures, you know... like 'pictures' not like 'real'." Cordy shook her head. "I need some aspirin."

"Pictures, not real." Angel repeated as he went to get the medication out of his desk drawer. He was going to need clarification, but first Cordy needed to calm down.

"Yes, PICTURES!" She snapped. "Like those poster things they sell down at that gross incense and tacky jewelry store."

"Fantasy art?"

"Yeah, that wizard and demon and vampire and troll poster stuff." She said, taking the aspirin bottle from Angel's hand. "And they were all about vampires coming up out of the ground. But whoever drew them sure didn't do any homework because they didn't look like a real vampire."

"That stuff never does." Angel observed with a shrug. "I wonder if this >concerns Wesley's disappearance? Did you see Wesley in the vision?"

"Duh! If I would have saw him don't you think I would have said so?"

Angel felt the hope slip away. "So this is about something else. Damn."

"Damn is right." Cordy murmured as she put her head down on the desk and fought back tears.

"Awake, arise, feel, see, become."

The demon within him stirred.

"Awake, arise, feel, see, become." The words echoed seductively, pulling his consciousness back from the pit, restoring his senses, calling him to be.

He opened his eyes and focused on the face before him. Not a head turning beauty, but enticing with coal black hair and eyes. Her olive skin spoke of a Mediterranean heritage and within her voice was the trace of the ancient Catalan dialect of her youth centuries before.

"Welcome, I'm Rita and I know you find this confusing..."

"You turned me." Wesley interrupted as he rolled away and tried to stand. He stumbled, and grabbed onto the bedpost for support.

"That's a pleasant surprise." She commented in amazement while rubbing her hand across his shoulders. "It's been years since I've witnessed a rising where the new one was aware of what had happened. But still, you have so much to learn, so much for me to teach you."

Wesley slapped her hand away and turned on her with full vampire features. "Well, I'm not a bleedin' fool! And I will inform you from the start that I will not need you to 'teach' me a..."

The blow knocked him to the floor. Rita landed astride him and in the blink of an eye had his wrists pinned to the carpet. She lowered her face to his and hissed with vampire threat. "First lesson - I made you, I am your mistress, you 'will' obey me and give me my due."

Wesley struggled for a moment against her, then looked up with a twisted grin. "So shall we get on with the physical, mental and sexual domination? Let's say we do it in reverse order."

Rita released him from her hold and sat back on his stomach. "So you are a wicked boy. And here I thought you were all proper and dutiful and straight laced."

"Those aggravations seem to have been stripped away with my conscience. Damn shame wouldn't you say? And by the way, if you are going to sit on me why don't you move down a bit to a better spot?"

"Is that what you want?" Rita cooed. She shifted her weight around as if obliging the request then blindsided him with a second hard punch. Before Wesley could react she was off of him and landing a hard kick into his ribs. "First you will feed, then if... and I mean 'if'' I feel like screwing you then I will." She licked her lips and shot him an evil smile. "So you think you know everything? Let's make it a test and then we will see if you are just all talk. Show me that you really know the ways. Find the vessel, kill it well and drink you fill!"

At this command all defiance within Wesley was shoved aside as the need for warm blood mushroomed into a critical mass. He lurched to his feet, his very being zeroing in on a sound and an odor from another room. "I hear a heartbeat. I smell fear."

"Find it. Make the former stop, make the latter overwhelming." Rita hissed. "Hunt and taste eternity."

Wesley shivered in anticipation. "With pleasure, mistress. With pleasure." He focused on the sound and began to stalk straight toward a closed door on the other side of the room. With a roll of his shoulders he changed back into human guise. "Rule one..." He laughed. "...you never want to spook your supper beforehand." Then with deliberate slowness he turned the knob and entered. Hunched in the corner he found his prey. "Oh my! What happened to you?" He questioned with convincing horror as he crossed the room.

The stranger stood and held up his shackles for Wesley to see. "Get me out of here... that bitch is crazy. She's on something.... her face is all fucked up and.."

"Yes, yes.. I know. Terrible situation." Wesley interjected. "We must hurry before she returns. Now, do you know where she keeps the key to these restraints?"

The impending victim shook his head. "No man.. she put it in her pocket and left me here and.. oh hell! She's back!"

"So you are going to play first?" Rita said from the doorway. "It's cold and heartless... I like that. And the fact that you have this much control within minutes of you rising says volumes."

"Thank you for your approval." Wesley said sarcastically "But since I am starved I will end this charade a bit prematurely." As he spoke his vampire features came full bloom and he locked the man into death grip. With this, something Wesley found almost sexual in its appeal appeared on the unfortunate human's face. Terror, helplessness, blind fear all wound up in a whimpering petition for mercy. Instincts took the reins and with a snarl he bit and fed free of all human concern. The heat of an ending life poured into him and he savored both the flavor of the blood and the taste of the power. So intense was the pleasure that he drove his fangs deeper to try and bring up one last drop even though the vessel lay limp and drained in his embrace.

Rita smiled in approval. This one was good, much better than the ones she had sired over the past few decades. In silence she allowed him to take all of his first victim, watching as the strength flowed from living to dead. With a low hiss Wesley flung the drained shell to the floor and turned to her. "Did I pass?" Her eyes traveled to the trauma which he had inflicted upon the man's throat and her eyes lit up with delight. "Well I'll be damned! You're a 'J' cutter!"

Wesley's gaze followed hers. "So I am. Isn't that wonderful?" He blinked a couple of times and brought to memory his Watcher instruction. "When a vampire attacks in such a way that the laceration is in the form of a deep, jagged capital 'J' it is certain that this creature is unusually vicious. It attacks in a mindless blitz with complete disregard for stealth or deception. This fact allows it to be easily hunted down before it does extensive damage." The gallows humor of his quoting from the hallowed halls of the Watcher's Academy hit him and he broke out into laughter. "Vicious? Certainly! Mindless? I don't think so!"

"Neither do I." Rita chuckled darkly as the full prize to the vampire nation became obvious. "And you have kept your training! You will be a great asset to the clan." She walked up to him and ran a finger down his chest. "And I think you do deserve a little reward for a job well done."

"And that would be?" He inquired, moving a half step closer to her.

In response she dropped her hand and brought it back up along his inner thigh until she was cupping his masculinity within her hand. Neither Wesley or Rita averted their eyes from each other as she began to roughly fondle and stroke him through his clothing. The sensation caused Wesley to began to involuntary pump his hips forward, thrusting his erection into her hand. Through gritted teeth he groaned as the stimulation suddenly stopped only to be replaced a second later by the feel of her fingers partially undoing his belt.

"Now we'll see if you're all talk in other matters." She said in a low, earthy voice as she drew away from him. With a sultry look she walked across the room and leaned up against the doorjamb.

Wesley began to move toward her in the same manner as he had stalked his prey. "You are quite the cock tease."

"Oh you have not seen 'tease'." Rita whispered. "Stop where you are and come no closer. Show me your control."

With a mixture of suspicion and excitement Wesley stopped and watched as she began to unbutton her blouse revealing an exciting glimpse of the blood red lace which comprised her bra. Her hands then went to her paint splattered jeans and she slowly undid the button fly and slid one hand down to cup her own secrets while the other went upward and disappeared under her blouse.

Wesley did not need to see how she was pleasuring herself beneath her clothing, for he could smell it and taste it in the air. He ran his tongue over his bared fangs and growled in frustration. "I don't believe that I'm going to pass this test."

"Does it hurt?" She taunted.

"Not as much as it will hurt you when I knock you on your arse and take you hard."

"Sounds like fun... do it if you can."

"Bitch!" Wesley snapped as he came across the room and swung her to the floor. In the last split second Rita wound her fingers into his shirt and pulled him down with her, The hit hard in a tangle of savage biting kisses and ripping garments. Each taking, neither giving, each fighting for dominance until both were stripped of only enough clothing to expose their sex. Wesley grabbed her forearms, sank his fangs into her shoulder and leveraged his weight to shove her down under him. He jammed first one knee, then a second between her thighs and forced her legs apart. Rita screeched in anger over being in the subordinate position and brought her own razor sharp incisors into play drawing a skull exposing gash across the side of his head. Wesley released an arm, entwined his fingers in her hair and yanked her face away, he then screamed as her free hand found his cock and left a fivefold bloody scratch from base to head. He lurched upward to his knees pulling her with him by one arm. Rita kept the momentum and digging into his shoulder raised herself up so that her breasts brushed his face. Then in one motion she came back down and impaled herself upon his stone hardness while pushing him backwards.

With this one stoke the erotic mix of pleasure, pain, desire and violence exploded into a blinding orgasm for both. Hands, tongues and flesh collided as they collapsed into a blood smeared heap on the floor.

Rita ran her hand under the tatters of his shirt. "Not bad." She murmured, before standing up. "Not bad at all, you have promise."

Wesley put his hands behind his head and curled his lip into a half smile. "Thank you."

"You are certainly easy to compliment." She answered with her own sneer.

"Oh not for that, I know I'm much better than merely 'not bad'. And I also know very well that I've passed you little tests with flying colors." Wesley countered. "What I meant was 'thank you' for turning me."

Rita could not hide her satisfaction. "Yes Wesley, you did pass. And in celebration let's get cleaned up and acquaint you with the night."

"I think I would like that." He said as he stood. "Not as much as draining my sisters, but it will do."

With a nod of understanding Rita agreed with his want. "The mind always goes to family and friends who still breathe. Give it a few nights, increase your strength and decide who your first strike will be against."

Wesley's mind went to those he had recently stood beside. "Is it possible that my employer knows I have crossed over?" He asked as he followed her out the door. "Did you leave any signs or clues?"

Rita opened her closet and began to choose an outfit. "Nothing but a few drops of blood well mixed with rain."

"That could be bad."

"No way." She disagreed. "A bloodhound would not be able..."

Wesley interrupted her. "But a vampire could smell it and Angel is a vampire.... a vampire with a soul."

Rita arched an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"I would love to, but you said we are going out." Wesley quipped. As his mistress's mood darkened he waved his hand in a "calm down" motion. "Sorry, could not resist. While you get cleaned up let me entertain you with the tale of Sunnydale."

"Oh look. They're having a sale on nose rings. What... 'fun'." Cordelia said dryly as she and Angel entered the fifth Goth themed store of the evening.

Angel took her by the arm and led her toward the back of the store. "Right. Let's check out the posters and get out of here."

"Again, 'oh fun'." Cordy sniped. "This is not helping anything. Wesley's not here and none of these tacky posters look like the ones I saw."

"So whatcha lookin' for?"

Angel turned to the clerk. "A certain poster... uh, one with a vampire rising up."

"Cool. We've got a couple like that." Dave said as he went over to the rack and began to leaf through. "Here's one."

Cordelia shook her head.

"How 'bout this one?"

"Yuck."

"Okay... this one?"

Cordelia reached over and tapped it. "No. The moon is wrong. The one's I'm looking for have a little, tiny, fingernail moon."

"Crescent moon." Angel clarified.

Dave rubbed his scraggly goatee. "Like this?"

"Okay... yes there's the crescent moon, but the vampire is 'not' coming up our of the ground." Cordy crossed her arms and glared. "Do you think you can get 'both'?"

"El Eliminati." Angel whispered as he recognized the stance, sword and attire of the creature portrayed.

"Yeah man, that's close. This one's called 'The Eliminator', part of the Warrior series." Dave turned to the next. "Rita does a series every year or so. Six different scenes on a topic, these are from last year. We only have a few left of 'em and maybe one or two from the year before."

"Angel." Cordelia said with annoyance. "This isn't what we're looking for."

"Bear with me, okay?" He muttered to her before turning back to the clerk. "Is there any place where I can see all of these? Any other store that has..."

"Fat chance, buddy." Dave snorted. "Rita only does one printing and when they're gone they're gone. Sorry." He started to walk away then turned back. "But if you want to spend some serious money, I do have a signed 'and' illustrated copy of her artwork book in the back. I paid $400 for it at a si-fi convention, let you have it for six."

Angel gave a nod. "Let's see it first."

"Cool." Dave said with a grin. "Let me go get it."

As the clerk left them Angel and Cordy walked over to the counter. Cordelia let out an exasperated exhale and put her hands on her hips. "Okay, what's going on? We're wasting our time here because if you have not noticed this is not the..."

"I think it is." Angel disagreed. "Listen to me, that poster was of an El Eliminati cult vampire down to the last detail."

"Which meeeans what?"

"If you quit interrupting I'll tell you." Angel grumbled. "Wesley was involved with the fight against the El Eliminati. I'm beginning to think that your vision is about Wesley. That's why I want to take a look at this person's past work, maybe what you saw..."

"Got it!" Cordy piped in. "This Rita whoever draws vampires and she might be drawing one now that knows where Wesley is!"

Angel gave her a faint smile. "Yeah, maybe." He said reassuringly as his mind went to darker scenarios.

"Here it is." Dave said as he reappeared from the hallway. He came up beside them and gently laid the oversized book on the counter. "Oh yeah, and I dug this out too. It's a notice from the distributor that Rita's new series is coming out at the end of next month."

"That's it!" Cordy squealed as she caught sight of line drawing on the brochures' cover. "That's one of the pictures! I mean it's not in color but it's the same thing!"

Outloud Angel read the title. "The Rising Series, by Rita."

"You couldn't have seen this one." Dave countered with a shake of his head. "It ain't out yet."

Angel pulled the book over. "Makes no difference. Do you know where we can find..." His voice left him as the drawing on the inside cover met his eyes. A pen and ink of a woman standing before a window in contemplation of a crescent moon. She was dressed in a plain robe but tied around her waist was an ornate belt of embroidered cloth, the ends of which flowed down to brush the stone floor. Angel ran his fingers down the sash, his eyes seeing not a random pattern but instead reading the runes hidden in the decoration. "Awake, arise, feel, see, become." He mouthed the words twice before saying them out loud.

"Say what?" Dave asked, a little confused. "And by the way, don't mess that up by rubbing it. She drew that in there while we all watched."

"Awake, arise, feel, see, become - that's the ancient calling forth. How would a modern human know that? That's from centuries ago, way before my time!" Angel said incredulously.

"So she's way into this hanging around with vampires? Is that what your saying?" Cordelia asked. "Maybe I should find her, we could exchange tips on how to keep our bosses from bursting into flames whenever we open the drapes."

Dave's eyes darted back and forth between the two as the exchange registered in his mind. He slowly raised his gaze upward to the mirrored ceiling above the counter and.. "Uh, lady... do you know your friend doesn't have a reflection."

"Well Duh!" Cordy answered with a hair flip. "Vampires aren't very big on that whole reflecting thing."

Unconsciously Dave pulled his shirt collar up over his neck. "If he's a vampire, what are you?"

"Cordy demon." Angel answered without a trace of a smile. "They spit acid."

"I don't 'spit'." Cordelia snapped. "You know better than that!"

"And you thought vampires were frightening?" Angel deadpanned. "Now back to business. $600 is a little high, how much would it be to let me borrow this for a few nights? I will bring it back."

By now Dave had backed up hard against the back display case. "Take it! Just take it!"

"Well that's about what we can afford." Cordelia said as she picked the book up and headed out.

"I'll bring it back in a few nights." Angel repeated. "And I owe you one, deal?"

Dave nodded.

Angel stepped away with a simple "Thanks" and began to leave.

"Hey!" Dave called out in a voice that was a little too high. "Before you go... uh.."

"What?"

"Uh.. uh... was this for real, or was I just ripped-off?"

"No, you were not just 'ripped-off'." Angel told him as he came back toward the man. He leaned halfway across the counter and put on his game face. "You were just lucky."

"You just can't resist wigging people out can you?" Cordelia observed as Angel joined her on the sidewalk.

"He asked." Angel said with a shrug. "So I..."

"So you freaked him out. Got it. I heard his office door slam and lock all the way out here!"

Angel opened the car door for her. "I'm going to take you home."

"And where are you going?" She asked as he got in the driver's side.

"First I'm going to patrol around, someone has to know about Wesley. Then at dawn I'm going to start looking through this book and see what I can find out about this Rita." He started the engine looked over at Cordy. "Promise me something."

"Sure, what."

"Until we find out what's happened... don't... ah..." He went silent and stared out he windshield.

Cordelia gave him a couple of seconds then waved her hand toward him. "Hellooooo! Full sentence, okay?"

"If you see Wesley don't invite him in, allow him to get close to you or anything like that until he shows you his cross." Angel turned to her and took her hand. "Promise?"

"So you think...." She began.

"Vampires are involved. Probably a remnant of the El Eliminati and this Rita is in contact with them."

"I don't care about that, you think Wesley's been turned don't you?"

Angel gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter. "Vampires are involved. I just want you to be careful... you know as well as I do that the first place a vampire strikes is among its family and friends."

Cordelia swallowed hard. "I'll be careful, I promise." She pulled her hand away from his. "I'd really like to go home now."

"There he is." Rita snorted.

"Yes, the one and only Angel. A total waste of a perfectly good demon." Wesley answered. He glanced up from his book for a moment and gave his head a toss toward the scene. "And the woman is Cordelia, I'd rather not turn her if that's all right with you."

"That is for the best, you should resist the urge to turn a vessel until you have more control." Rita said with approval.

Wesley curled his lip. "Oh this not due to any instintive following of the rules. It's just I would rather not have to listen to her mindless babbling for all eternity. That dear Mistress, would constitute true hell on Earth."

Rita leaned back into the driver's seat and gave Wesley a sidelong glance. Then she turned her attention forward and watched as Angel followed Cordy into her apartment. "Will he stay the night with her?"

"No, that whole brooding for the Slayer, can't risk a good pop, etceteras keeps him chaste." He held the book over to her and tapped on a page. "Here it is, the spell to destroy a soul."

"So you really think they would try to restore you?" She questioned. "I had the feeling that Sunnydale was over the top, but this is ridiculous."

"Oh without a doubt, on both counts." Wesley snotted. "I can guarantee that as soon as my condition becomes common knowledge my former colleagues will be down here posthaste armed with the Orb of Thesulah to make me all better." He chuckled under his breath at the mental image. "I will have to thank that Mr. Giles for being so concise in his additions to the Watcher Diaries. It would have been a shame for me to have been taken off guard."

Rita laughed. "A terrible shame. I like you the way you are."

"So do I." Wesley agreed. "And to think I spent all those years being a... There! He's leaving."

"How much time do we have?"

"If he's going to my flat to check for my reappearance, about twenty minutes. If he's going back to the office we have about fifteen. Either way he will realize the game is afoot when he sees what has been taken from both places." Wesley cast a glance into the backseat. "Reference material, spellbooks, casting supplies and the like, along with the lion's share of my clothing. Not something that a common sneak thief would hook."

Rita got out of the car and stood by the open door waiting on Wesley to exit from his side and come to her. She reached up and pulled his face downward to hers and drew him into an open mouthed kiss. Her tongue flicked over his lips as they parted. "Go now, and bring me back the taste of sweet blood on your lips."

Wesley raised a fingertip and touched his lips, then hers, then left to walk the short block to Cordelia's apartment. As he approached he morphed into vampire and ran his fangs down the side of his arm drawing his own blood which he smeared across the filthy remains of his shirt. Standing on her porch he changed back into mortal mask and considered his ploy. "Oh poor me, poor me, poor me. Oh help me Cordelia for I've been kidnapped and beaten and tortured. Yes that should work." He composed himself and began to beat on the door.

Within the apartment Cordelia startled at the sound. For a heartbeat she hesitated at the doorway between the kitchen and dining room but then she heard it... a familiar voice.

"Cordelia! For the love of God, help me!"

She flung open the door and found Wesley teetering on his feet before her. Before she could say a word he leaned up onto the outside doorframe, clutched his chest and shouted. "They're here.. they followed.. Oh God! Get me a stake.. a weapon... hurry!"

Cordy began the take a step toward Wesley but was suddenly pulled back into the apartment. The door flew out of her hand, slammed and locked. "DENNIS!" She screamed. "HE NEEDS HELP!" She grabbed the doorknob with both hands and began to twist it. "Come on, OPEN IT OR I'LL..."

With a crack a leg snapped off the coffee table and rolled across the room coming to a stop at Cordy's feet.

Outside Wesley smashed his fist against the door. "GOD DAMN YOU CORDELIA! OPEN THE DOOR!"

Cordelia froze. The voice was Wesley, but she had never hear that tone before. Fearfully her eyes darted between the door and the improvised stake at her feet. "Dennis, are you trying to tell me something?" She picked up the stake and put her hand back on the knob. "Okay Dennis, I'm not inviting him in and I'm not going out there until we see for sure, okay?"

The force holding the door shut vanished, Cordelia swung it open and held her weapon up. "Run this by me again. You want me to what? And by the way, I don't like being cussed at."

"Is that all you have? Give it to me.. hurry!" Wesley barked as he held his hand out.

"Don't yell at me!" She barked right back. "So where are these guys that are chasing you? There's nobody chasing you, is there? Phantom Dennis knew it because if there really was someone chasing you he would have let me let you in but he didn't want you to come in and..." Cordelia's throat suddenly went dry as she felt the cold hate emitting from Wesley's eyes stab into her.

"Congratulations, you're not as stupid as I believed."

Cordelia dropped the stake as Wesley morphed before her. "Oh...n-n-nooooo."

"Oh yes." Wesley corrected. "And since you will not let me in to kill you, perhaps you would take Angel a message for me? " He paused and chuckled at the stunned figure before him. "Tell him that soul or not, he is an idiot to give up the pleasure of the kill."

Cordelia began to shake and again Dennis slammed the door in Wesley's face.

Rupert involuntarily gasped in shock at the sight coming toward him. Cordelia Chase, sans makeup, her hair pulled back into a careless ponytail and her eyes red from crying came running from her desk and wrapped her arms around him.

"Oh Giles! It's awful! I'm so glad you're here! I can't take this!"

"Yes, yes... I know." He murmured as he returned the hug. "I came as soon as possible."

"First Doyle has to go be a hero and die, now Wesley had to go after a vampire and die!" She sobbed. "Why can't people just not do that? I can't take anymore of this get noble and die!"

Giles felt her shudder within his arms as she pulled away. Something in Cordelia's eyes reminded him of a cornered gazelle... she was scared. Cordelia was scared halfway out of her mind. "Cordelia? Did he harm you? The truth.. I need to know the truth."

"He tried to lure her outside."

"Angel." Giles said with a nod, greeting the vampire as he came out of his office.

"He said he wants to kill me, so now I have this whole undead stalker thing going. And his eyes.. his eyes were... j-just... and he said that Angel was an idiot." Cordy crossed her arms and shivered as if the room temperature had just dropped twenty degrees. "I called Angel right away but he couldn't find him."

"Have you uncovered anything else?" Giles asked them.

Angel crossed the room and relocked the front door. "Maybe, mostly speculation but I might have something. Come on in the office and I'll show you."

With Rupert escorting Cordelia the three entered the ajoining room and seated themselves around the vampire's desk. Angel began to shuffle some papers. "Ah, is... is anyone else coming down?"

"No." Giles said a bit too quickly. "Just me. Everyone else has been warned of Wesley's turning and if he is sighted in Sunnydale his appearance will be dealt with appropriately." He placed a canvas sack on the desk and unzipped the top. "Hopefully, it will not come to that."

Giles dug around and removed two books and a small wooden box and laid them on the desk. "I brought the Orb of Thesulah."

"You're going to change him back?!" Cordy shouted. "Oh that's great! Of course that means they'll be two gloomy vampires hanging around but at least I won't be a blood lite."

"Yeah, that's great." Angel said without conviction.

Giles peered over his glasses. "I take it you don't care much for this plan?"

Angel looked away.

"Do you have a better..."

"We only have two options: one - give him his soul back, or two - hunt him down and stake him." Angel interrupted. "I know that.. but.."

"But you disagree with both.. I see." Giles said with obvious annoyance. "Well then we will just have to sit here and do nothing until we think of something that meets your specifications."

Angel leaned over the desk and met Rupert's dark stare. "I don't disagree with the option of hunting him down. Like I said on the phone, even though his first attack was on Cordelia 'we' would make better bait. All we have to do is wait on him to make a move."

"And while we wait... innocence people will die." Rupert tapped the Orb. "Much better for him to be reunited with his soul as quickly as possible. Then he will return as a remorseful penitent, not as a monster." He narrowed his eyes as a thought hit him. "Why don't you want him restored? Some personal reason? Jealousy perhaps? Or is the cold, hard fact that you cannot face spending eternity in the company of yet another person you have damned to the pit?"

"That's uncalled for." Angel growled through gritted teeth.

"Then answer me. Why don't you want to try this?"

Angel picked up the Orb and stared into its depths. Okay, we give him his soul. Just tell me what happens in a hundred years when the spell is broken and a century's worth of suppressed demon is unleashed?"

Rupert's voice became pure ice. "Oh let's see.. I think I know the answer to this one."

Cordelia slammed her palm down on the desk. "STOP IT! Just stop it right now and check out the big picture! He wants to kill ME! ME! And then I'll be Cordelia Chase, creature of the night!"

An oddly terrifying mental image of Cordelia as a vampire blossomed in both men's brains. Angel reluctantly handed the Orb of Thesulah back to Giles. "Let's do it your way. Then we can root out whoever sired him."

Giles carefully centered the stone before himself. "Do you know who did this?"

"I know who does." Angel answered with a glance toward Rita's book. "All I have to do is find her."

Wesley awoke to the sound of a door shutting. Even though it had not been slammed in anger the noise still jarred his brain into a state of awareness. He sat up in the bed and scanned the studio, wondering why he was alone in what he instinctively knew was mid-morning. "Where in the hell did she go?" He muttered as his eyes took a second sweep around the room and came to rest on the empty easel. At this he relaxed. "Oh yes, they were coming for that horrid picture today."

He lay back down, stretched out and shut his eyes, enjoying the feel of the silk sheets caressing his naked body. A smile appeared on his face as he tested his heightened senses. Like the predator he had become he sniffed the air analyzing the dominant scents which filled the room; paint and charred magics, blood and sex. He pulled a double handfull of sheet up to his nose and inhaled deeply. In delight he licked his lips upon the discovery that he could taste as well as smell the odors of their actions. Exciting, so very exciting. His hand curled around his hardening cock and he roughly pumped himself into a full erection while replaying in his mind the violent couplings of the pre-dawn hours.

Without warning his enjoyment was shattered by a sharp stab of pain.

Snarling he grabbed his chest and lurched out of the bed. He drew in a hissing breath and with venomous hate spit it back out. "You BASTARD!" A second spearing pain seemed to tear him apart. He landed on his knees and screeched. "FUCK YOU GILES! Rip me open all you want but the soul WILL NOT come back because it is no more!" With a demon born roar he sliced his palm with his fangs and held it up as if for Rupert to witness. "See this?" Wesley hissed as he turned his hand to allow a stream of black blood to flow from the gash. "You will taste this! I swear on all that is unholy... you are mine!"

Shaking with rage Wesley stood and braced himself for the third blow to his being. It hit with an agony that was square the other two combined as the sorcery opened his essence to receive the blessing of a soul. But what came was not a psyche of light and moral conscience. Instead the demon within reached out and brought in a shade fully vested in the treacherous cunning which lies within the mortal race.

Wesley felt it come, he welcomed it, he worshipped it, he embraced it. And in turn it embraced him sending him face down onto the floor in a convulsive blackout.

He lay there drifting in and out of consciousness as this new demon settled into place inside him. As the pain lessened Wesley rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling while cautiously searching within himself for any sign of human compassion. Finding not the first iota of remorse or contrition he drew in a long hissing breath. "Mr. Giles..." He whispered to the empty room. "...I do believe you have just made an extremely serious mistake."

Rita signed the check and handed it back to the courier. "Tell Mr. Wolfram that I want this deposited in the usual manner and that I would like to re-negotiate the details of the printing and distribution of my next series."

"Yes Ma'am. And he asked me to give you this." He held out an unmarked white envelope which Rita accepted. She tore it open and read the small handwritten note:

Mistress Rita,

At four this morning a man claiming to be interested in your services appeared at Westfall Distributing. Our security man identified him as a fellow vampire and from the general description we believe that he is same one who has caused some recent difficulty. In his possession was one of the brochures which announced the coming release of "The Rising" series. Perhaps you should consider taking your trip a few weeks early, for we do not want to risk losing your experience or services. Please contact me if you wish to make arrangements.

Sincerely,

Karl Wolfram

"Interesting." She commented outloud.

"Do you need me to take another message back?"

"No, that is all." Rita answered. "Just deliver "Rising VI"... without banging up the edge this time I might add." She stopped and gave the courier a hard look.

The human lackey fidgeted with his shirt collar. "You have my word, and by the way the guy that dropped the last one is no longer with us."

Rita dismissed him with a wave of her hand and leaned against the lobby wall to watch until the truck was loaded. As they pulled away she went to the service elevator and returned to her basement lair. She felt the charge in the air as soon as she opened the door - magic had entered this place. Wesley stood naked at her drawing board leafing through her sketchpad. She closed the door, seated herself on the stool beside him and waited on him to speak.

"When did you draw these?"

"Yesterday, while waiting on you to rise and this morning before the courier arrived."

Wesley paged back through offering a short commentary on each portrait. "My angst ridden death in the rain, my angry rising and here a bit of erotica that captures our first 'moment'." He stepped away from the board and posed. "Would you like to do a classical nude?"

The tip of her tongue swept across her upper lip as she appraised his form. "Yes I would, but not at the moment. Right now I'd like you to tell me what happened."

"They tried... they failed."

"I can see that. Your hunger is obvious."

Wesley shook his head. "Not really. I completely drained that sniveling..."

"Not for blood." Rita corrected. "You are hungry for it all. I can feel that in you. You want it all and you want it now."

"So?" He growled. "Isn't that the name of the game?" He tilted his head back and hissed. "And tonight I'm going to find my old compatriot Giles and drain him so nicely that he wrinkles up half size."

"Control."

The one word command came so softly that Wesley dismissed it as nonsense. "I 'am' in control and I don't need your advice."

Rita picked up a charcoal pencil and began to sketch as she slowly and deliberately laid out a warning. "Control, you have the seeds of it, but not the ability. Last night's rage proves that."

"Yes, it made me angry that she would not leave her threshold." Wesley said in rising ire. "If it wasn't for that damned ghost I would have broken that bitch's neck!"

"Let me ask you a question. How many of our kind kissed the stake because they succumbed to an ego driven desire to beat the Slayer?"

"Too many to count." Wesley shot back. "Get on with your lecture Mistress and if you would be so kind, please say it without the riddles."

"Do you know what our power is? Time. We have 'time'. Use it." Rita glanced up from her sketchpad. "End of lecture. Any questions?"

Wesley stood there in silence as all snide comments faded from his lips. After a few minutes consideration, he came over to her and sat down on an adjoining stool. "I know one is not suppose to ask this question of a lady, but... how old are you?"

"I don't know exactly." Rita answered. "Let's just say I've been around for a long, long time. I remember many things, like 1066, the year of the comet." She quit her drawing as a faraway look crossed her face. "It was a beautiful sight as it lit up the night. I heard that people could even see it during the daytime." She shrugged and went back to her portrait of Wesley. "But I had to take that story on face value."

Wesley's curiosity was tweaked. "So you are at least 934."

"Much, much more than that. I was turned not long after the Romans came. I've though about it and as near as I can figure I was turned in the Winter of approximately the year 180." She paused for a second and smiled. "180... B.C.E."

"Old One." Wesley said under his breath. He felt like he should be offering a tribute for there were only a scattering of vampires who survived the purges of the mid to late middle ages, and even fewer made it through the age of discovery. "How? How did you.."

"Control." She answered harshly. "Haven't you been listening to me? Or are you going to be like the others and be destroyed within a decade because you act like a 'fucking idiot'?"

Wesley flinched as his ego yelped. "But the others did not have my training, I do know what I'm doing and gives me a leg up in this game."

"And the same thing can be said of your enemy. Reel in the revenge because they know you're coming and they 'will' be ready." She went back to her drawing. "It's something that the newly turned always wants, to drink the blood of those who 'morn' us. My own brother turned me and I eventually turned my husband as punishment because he did not keep me safe."

"So you know the lust for revenge." Wesley said as a statement.

"There is a difference between hunting down a farmer and hunting down a Watcher." She pointed out. "I stalked you for a month before I made my move. Waited and watched. I let you come to me instead of forcing you into whatever plan I could cook up."

Wesley slightly bowed his head. "Teach me, Mistress."

"You want to be my acolyte? Fine with me." She chuckled darkly. "Just keep this hunger!" She turned the drawing toward him.

Wesley raised his head and stared at his likeness on the page. A simple portrait in charcoal showing him from shoulders up with the first two buttons of a dress shirt undone. With one hand he held the earpiece of his glasses up to his lips which held the barest trace of a smile. At first glance it seemed to be a conventional portrait, but upon further study something far more than a simple representation of his features came forth from the paper, for Rita had captured the demon within. Though the features were pure human, in the eyes could be seen a warning that there was no soul in this man and in the faint smile was the message "beware".

"Is that my expression?" Wesley asked softly. "If so, I am quite unnerving."

"Some people would say that, but I think you're beautiful." Came the whispered response. She laid the pad down, picked up an exacto knife and made a small slice on the tip of her finger. As a bead of blood welled out of the cut she reached over and brought it to his lips. With a shudder he kissed the drop off and then took her hand and held it to his mouth softly running his tongue over the tip of her fingers as he coaxed another drop of blood from the wound. Rita allowed him this pleasure then pulled her hand back and around to cup his jaw and cheek. "Now go." She told him in a low voice. "Shower... dress... return to me and we will begin."

As Wesley left the room she picked up her phone and dialed her old friend Karl Wolfram. "Karl dear, I got your note and I know what's going on."

Across town Karl's face went into a frown. "Which is?"

"I took one of their own. Bad Rita, going around turning Watchers into kinsmen."

"Congratulations Mistress!" Karl said with sincerity. "But now it is imperative that you.."

Rita cut him off with a laugh. "Oh I know, they are a little upset at me. So, I think you are right about it being for the best that I take my vacation early. Would you arrange for my belongings to be put into storage and find passage for two to Spain? Myself and our new clansman, Wesley, who by the way will need the usual paperwork."

Karl picked up a pen. "Ship?"

"Of course. I would like to leave as soon as possible. We have a few loose ends to tie up, but we will be finished by sunrise."

"Very good." Karl told her. "Just be careful Mistress. This troublemaker and his cohorts are not to be underestimated."

"Oh I know that. I've been told about him and have no intention of going head to head. Fix it so that he finds this place after we have gone."

Karl smiled. "Then we will exterminate him."

"Oh don't do that. Between the message my new acolyte will give him tonight and the gift that I will leave for him to find here - his torture will be pure hell." Rita paused to gaze at the drawing of Wesley. "Believe me Karl, it's much better to end this one my way."

"As you wish." Karl said with a shrug. "You do have a knack for toying with them."

"I've had a lot of practice and I have the feeling that Wesley will be a quick study. I guarantee you Karl that within a year we will have this disgrace to our kind so upset that he will probably walk out into the sun just to end his pain." She laughed under her breath. "Call me when you have the arrangements made. Good-bye."

"I'm on it as we speak. Good-bye Mistress Rita." Karl hung up and sat beck with an approving nod. "I would not want to be in that Angel's shoes."

"I... I?" Rupert frowned. "Is it 'I' or does that mean 'my'.... could possibly... depends on the context. Blast, I need my copy of 'Lost Voices'." He pushed the book back an inch and began to clean his glasses as if the invisible speck on one of the lenses was blocking his divination of the runes. There was something bothersome in this artwork that he could not put his finger on. Angel had pointed out the "calling forth" text, the verbatim illustration of the El Eliminati cultist and the precise rendering of Baal's sword in the hands of another vampire soldier. In one way or another he had found in the ten years worth of artwork and the additional drawing, sixty-one scenes with sixty-one unsettling hints.

But the one that bothered Rupert the most was this one - "The Sires, II" Astride a horse a male vampire attired as a Moorish soldier, on the ground before him a woman stood with one hand on her breast and the other raised in as if in supplication. At first Giles had read this image as that of a female victim submitting to her sire but then he had looked closer. Her body posture was not one of subservience, in matter of fact it seemed as if she was biding him farewell. Beside her an overturned chest spilled out its contents one of which was a parchment scroll and this had caught his attention.

Rupert replaced the glasses on his nose, picked up a magnifying glass and reexamined the scroll. "I am.. I may? My sight... sight or does it mean 'visions'?" He ran the glass upward to the face of the male vampire. Angel had pointed out that this was one of only two true representations of a vampire in the entire book and had speculated that it was a portrait. Rupert gave the image a second study and snorted. "Well, you are an evil looking bastard. But that goes without saying." He focused in on the expression. "You do not seem upset at whatever it is she is telling you. In matter of fact you seem quite pleased at.."

"Well Giles, it just got worse."

"Oh joy." Giles deadpanned peering over the top of his glasses at Angel. The vampire passed by the kitchen alcove and went straight to his weapons collection. "Cordelia is safe with Kate for the night.... but I had to play quid pro quo thanks to Wesley's message." Angel chose a sword from the wall and brought it over to the table, sliding it toward Rupert. "I had to tell Kate everything that's happened; about Wesley's turning, the El Eliminati, the missing spellbooks." He shook his head grimly. "Then she told me that a body was found this morning over at the beach, drained of blood. She showed me a copy of the victim's picture.. Giles, Wesley's a 'J' cutter and he's taken a page from my book by marking the face."

"Are you sure it was Wesley who did this?"

"Oh yeah... the symbol on his cheek was the 'angel' logo that Cordelia designed." Angel said as he went back to choose a crossbow. "But him being a 'J' will give us the edge. I know how we can lure him in."

"He'll be out of control." Giles surmised. "You're thinking about a blood trail?"

Angel sighted down the crossbow. "Straight to us, I stopped at the butcher's and got a half gallon of fresh blood. That should make him crazy. Then we can find this Rita and stop her from dealing with vampires before it's too late."

"I believe that it is too late for that, much too late." Rupert said as he pushed the art book toward Angel. "Can you read the inscription on the parchment? Without my references I'm a little rusty."

"What parchment?" Angel asked. Rupert handed him the magnifying glass and pointed at the scroll. "Oh..." The vampire muttered. "Let me look..it says.. uh... 'I am your escort."

Rupert arched an eyebrow. "Interesting."

"So are the rest of the items in this treasure chest. "A cross wrapped up in cloth and an hourglass..." Angel picked up the book and held it in better light. "...a talisman of some kind in the shape of a crescent moon, lamp, paintbrushes." He shrugged. "I noticed the chest but didn't examine it closely because this vampire caught my attention."

"A shrouded cross." Rupert whispered to himself, then asked Angel for a secondary translation. "I am your escort... escort, or could the word be 'guide'?"

"It could be..." Angel stopped and stared at Rupert. "...guide. A cross bound and hidden. Sign of a vampire sired before the Christian Era." He slowly lowered the book. "An Old One, a Guide.. here in LA? That's bad, real bad. We have to find this Rita and warn her. A Guide? Damn. I just can't believe it.. there's only three of these guys."

"Two are male, one is female." Rupert corrected. "Things are beginning to fall into place. The bound cross says 'I am an Old One', same with the hourglass. The words on the parchment are a blazing confession of her station and the paintbrushes allude to her profession. Without question, Rita is a Guide."

Angel sat down and wordlessly nodded his agreement.

Giles ran his finger down Angel's handwritten notes. "In retrospect almost everything you found 'odd' in that book confirms this." He looked across the table at Angel's thousand-yard stare. "Angel, will your vampire nature allow you to face a Old One?"

"No problem."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Don't worry about it, that whole 'Old One' and 'Guide' scenario doesn't hold much value with me." Angel said quietly. "She has to be destroyed. And if she is a Guide she knows every vamp for a hundred miles so before I stake her, I guarantee she 'will' tell us where the El Eliminati remnants are holed up."

Rupert removed his glasses and laid them on the table. "Guides are the hellish mirror reverse of a Holy Saint. In addition to their store of knowledge and base evil, they are protected and revered by the entire vampire realm." He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I understand your lack of respect for their station but Angel, if you merely cross, let alone destroy this creature you are doomed. The price that will be put upon your head will.."

"I already have a price on my head, so what's one more?" Angel snorted as he picked up the blackened and cracked Orb of Thesulah. "But first things first Giles, we have to get Wesley off the streets and out of the service of those Duelists vampires."

"That 'creature' is not Wesley. Wesley is dead." Rupert said as he stood and removed his jacket from the back of the chair.

Angel held the Orb up to his face and gazed into the ruins. "And he wants to stay that way."

Giles adjusted his jacket and picked up the sword. "Well, shall we go and grant his wish?"

Wesley's voice was dripping in sarcasm. "Well, imagine my surprise."

The guard continued to shake his head as he viewed the monitor. "Straight up the side of the building. Who's he think he is 'Spidervamp'?"

"Oh, Stephen... only God knows what he thinks his calling is. A knight errant, a dark champion of the oppressed, a shining light in the darkness, a.."

"Pain in the ass." The guard snorted.

"Well, that also." Wesley laughed. He slid his chair over and tapped another monitor. "And speaking of the same, it seems my old friend is going to stay outside and keep the car at ready for a 'fast getaway'."

Stephen's face curled into a vampire sneer. "I still think we should just kill them both."

"Are you second-guessing Mistress Rita?" Wesley coolly asked, enjoying the semi-panicked look that this question produced in the other vampire.

"No way... Mistress was right that they would come back here."

Wesley stood and smoothed his coat. "I'm going to be on my way. Remember your orders my good man. Keep your men away from Angel until he finds Mistress Rita's information then put on a good show."

"Don't worry." Stephen muttered. He turned back to the security screens and with the click of a button froze one of the views. "Your prey is parked in the alley on the East side. If it goes sour you can get away from him by going toward the back of the building, over the fence and down to the tracks. You can make it over the fence, but the human won't be able to because of the razor wire. Then head West.. there's an utility tunnel about fifty yards away where you can stop and heal. Good luck."

"Thank you for your council but 'Luck' has nothing to do with it." Wesley arrogantly responded.

Stephen curled a corner of his mouth. "Whatever. Okay, Angel is coming through a window on the fifth floor.... that means 'you're on'." The guard waited for a response then turned around in his seat to repeat himself, but Wesley had already vanished without a sound.

Giles backed the car up against a towering stack of shipping containers, turned off the headlights and waited. Biting his lip he thought back over the previous eight hours. They had set a trap in a small basketball court a block from where Wesley had been taken but nothing had appeared. Rupert shifted in his seat a bit as he mentally corrected that last thought. Nothing had been drawn to the blood bait except a series of rats masquerading as ponies. "Nasty buggers." He muttered. "Never seen anything that vile."

So they had called the stakeout a bust for the evening. In all likelihood Wesley's El Eliminati sire was keeping him under control for this night. Rupert rubbed his chin and checked the time. "Well 4:00 is gone."

"Time flies does it not?" Wesley deadpanned as he landed in the backseat of the convertible. Within a flash the vampire reached forward and wound his fingers into Rupert's shirt and jacket collar and pulled him back, hard up against the driver's seat. Giles grabbed the sword at his side and made a blind stab toward his antagonist.

"That was not polite!" Wesley hissed as he dodged the strike and caught Rupert's wrist in an iron grip. "Let go, Mr. Giles." He said in an even tone as he began to twist Rupert's wrist in ways that the body does not move. Giles pulled against the pressure Wesley was applying to his neck and wrist, wheezing as his air dwindled from the tightening stranglehold of his own clothing. His free hand went to a bottle of Holy Water in his pocket and with his own choking hiss he opened it and doused the hand at his neck.

Wesley howled as the Sacramental raised smoking blisters across his hand. In the confinement of the front seat Giles whirled around to splash the remaining water onto his pinned sword hand. Wesley saw it coming and with his blistered hand he grabbed for the sword while with his other hand he twisted. The sound of Rupert's wrist breaking combined with human scream and vampire laugh into a macabre concerto from hell.

On his knees in the front seat Rupert swung the bottle in an arc to splatter it into Wesley's face. His motion came to a screeching halt as the tip of the sword came to rest above his Adam's apple. From the back seat Wesley glared at him in warning. "Yes Mr. Giles, that will burn me, but I will heal in no time. You on the other hand, will have the much more difficult task of replacing your head." He pressed the tip into Rupert's throat, opening a small slit in the skin. "This is what you could call a classic standoff, wouldn't you say?"

Wesley smiled at having the upper hand. "So how have you been Mr. Giles? Still watching over Buffy? How is she? Not that I miss the little bitch, but I have to ask just to be polite."

Except for his ragged breathing, Rupert was silent.

"Oh, yes.. I forgot." Wesley chuckled. "It is imperative that you do not allow yourself to be drawn into a conversation with your undead foe. For this will give it the advantage of distracting you from your goal. You must remain focused if you ever find yourself in a perilous situation, for that will save you." His features morphed back into human. "Don't fret Mr. Giles, you are not in any danger. Well not at the moment, for this is just that part of the game where I inform you of my plan. Would you care to hear it?"

"Sod off."

Wesley gasped in mock amazement. "Oh my! You spoke.. spoke to a vampire! But why am I so shocked? I knew from the beginning that you did not give a fig for the wisdom imparted upon us during training.

Rupert tensed and prepared himself to make his move. Wesley was enjoying being in control and sooner or later he would relax his guard enough for Rupert to knock the sword away. He pulled back a fraction of an inch from the sword, masking his motion by laying his broken wrist on the seatback.

"Wager that smarts." Wesley sniped with a nod toward the injury. "So back to the topic at hand. I'll make it fast so you can get that tended to. Like I said you are not in any danger... tonight. Unless of course you act like a jackass, then I will have to kill you. Since a word to the wise is sufficient, let's be civilized about this." Wesley said as he quickly pulled the sword away from Rupert's throat and held it just so, so out of reach of the human.

Giles felt a chill. The pain from his shattered wrist was making him nauseous and his only defense was a third of a bottle of Holy Water. He was expecting to face a half-unhinged Wesley, not this cool incarnation of evil.

"Simply stated my goal is to cause so much unbearable pain and suffering to be heaped upon Buffy and Angel that they commit suicide." Wesley said as if he was commenting on the weather. "A perfect scenario would be that they do it with mutual agreement in fulfillment of an angst ridden pact, but I will take what I can get. Now I know you are wondering, 'what would spur them into such a terrible act of self destruction?'. My theory is that both will not be able to deal with the unfortunate events which are about to transpire. Firstly; Xander, Oz and Cordelia will die before their time. How tragic. I'm not going to turn them.. just break their necks for the pleasure of hearing that snapping sound. I might allow myself a quick bite as they flop around, but that is yet to be seen. That will be the opening number. Then on to act two."

Wesley sat back and put on his game face. He ran his tongue over his fangs and snapped into the air to announce his intentions. Then with one word he divulged his mark. "Willow."

Rupert's temper hit flashpoint. He flung himself toward the smirking evil in the backseat. Wesley came up and met him halfway with a headbutt that knocked Rupert half senseless. Reeling he regained his footing but not before Wesley leaped clear of the confines of the car. The vampire stood by the driver's door and bared his fangs in threat. "That was stupid, Mr. Giles. Are you trying to make me kill you tonight?" Giles made a lunge for the crossbow on the floorboard and brought it up in a one handed aim toward Wesley.

As he fired the bolt Wesley dropped and screamed. The vampire came back to his feet, dark dead blood staining his coat inches above his nonbeating heart. Rupert jumped from passenger side and jammed the crossbow between his body and the door as he fumbled to load a second bolt.

"You have just upped the stakes Mr. Giles." Wesley snarled. "When I sire Willow, you will watch. And then I will violate her body in every way I can imagine, and believe me Mr. Giles, I can imagine some very creative fucking. And when I tire of her, you will be next in line. Mark my words."

Rupert swore in frustration, the bolt clicked into place, he raised the weapon... gone. Wesley was gone. Sweat poured down his face as he ran into the alleyway trying to discern which way the vampire had went. A slamming door and running footsteps echoed down the alley. Rupert whirled toward the sound and fired.

A security alarm blared drowning out Angel's shouted profanity as he hit the dirt. Angel scrambled back to his feet and took in the sight of Giles reeling on his feet. "Get in! Hurry!"

"He was here... he's going to..."

"I've figured it out Giles." Angel barked. "We have to go! NOW!"

Giles staggered back to the passenger door and fell in. "Be careful, there's Holy Water splashed all over."

Angel tossed the car into drive and floored it. "How bad are you hurt?"

"Wrist is broken... but I bloodied him... the bastard is..." Rupert grimaced as Angel took a corner with a lurch. "Slow down a bit. That was painful to the point of passing out." He leaned back and cradled his arm. "Did you find anything?"

"Got her address, It was in some paperwork about her paintings. I lucked out, found it in the second file cabinet. Then I got company." Angel glanced over at Giles. "I'm getting you to the hospital. Then I'm going to wait until sunrise and go visit Rita."

"By then she should be bedded down for the day. But wait for me, I'm going too."

"I don't think you're in any shape to..."

"I'M GOING!"

* * * * *

They stepped out of the elevator, each with more than a trace of what lay buried in their nature evident in their stance and expression. Giles shrugged his jacket off his shoulders revealing smallish but lethal crossbow. Angel raised his arm and nodded in cold approval as a stake flicked out from up his sleeve. He reset the mechanism and gave Rupert a sidelong glance as the human did a one handed load of the crossbow.

"Here." Angel said in a low voice, offering a heavy hunting knife encased in a leather sheath. "You take this, you might need it."

Rupert rejected the offer. "Thank you, no. I already have a knife, strapped on my ankle." He paused, scanning the long, dimly lit hallway. "Something is not right. Things are much too easy."

"So? If we know it's a trap, then it's no longer a trap." Angel said dryly.

"I'm sure there is logic in that statement, somewhere." Giles muttered. "Just be on guard." He adjusted the sling which held his right arm immobile, tightening it closer to his body as he gave a slight nod down the hall. "Shall we?"

"Absolutely." Angel hissed as he morphed. The vampire began to track down the corridor, pausing at each unmarked door to feel for a sign that their quarry lay within. One by one he rejected each doorway until at the terminus of the hall, from behind double metal doors came a whiff of blood, a hint of death, an indication of the evil that was present here.

Angel's body tensed in anticipation of the fight. He bared his fangs, wrapped his hands around the doorknobs and slowly turned them. "It's not locked."

"That bodes ill." Rupert whispered darkly. "Fling it open, you veer to the right, I will go left. Keep one 'alive' for questioning, destroy the rest."

"Three... two... one." Angel counted down and then burst through the doors with such violence that one of the right hand hinges snapped. The momentum of their attack carried them halfway through the studio space before both came to a sliding stop at what lay before them.

The room was empty of both furnishings and inhabitants. In the corner a staggered trio of blood red pillar candles burned hours into their life. Before them a wooden box, behind them propped against the wall, a sketchpad. The adrenaline rush peaked and drained within Rupert leaving him feeling chilled. He stepped back toward the door and flicked the light switch back and forth. With a curse he glared upward at the lighting fixtures as if he could, through sheer will force them into illumination.

"Forget it, nobody's here." Angel growled. The vampire twisted his head and an open mouth grimace appeared on his face. "That box is bloody."

Rupert's eyes narrowed. "How so?"

"Human heart, I smell the meat."

"Meat." In disgust, Rupert mouthed the choice of word. Hiding his disdain he crossed the studio and knelt down on one knee before the arrangement. He drew his knife and using the point hesitantly opened the box a few inches, just enough to confirm Angel's statement. "Mercy." He whispered in half prayer for the dead, half petition for the living. Taking a deep breath he steadied himself and flipped the lid back reveling both the atrocity and a blood soaked piece of paper rolled and tied with a black ribbon.

Giles knew he did not want to touch the note let alone see what mockery was written thereon, but he knew he had to. Tightlipped he reached in, pulled it out and unrolled it. Immediately he recognized Wesley's precise penmanship and his stone expression began to crack as he read.

"What is it?" Angel questioned. "Tell me.."

"Everyone's home address written in Wesley's hand. Buffy, Willow, Xander, Oz, Cordelia, you and I." Rupert answered through his teeth. He crumpled the note into a ball and sat it in the pool of wax atop the largest candle, watching as it ignited and burned to ashes. "So he wants to play this game, does he?"

"Looks like it." Angel agreed. "But why would we find his message here in Rita's lair?"

Rupert's jaw tightened in tandem with the knot in his stomach. "I believe we both know the answer to that... he was turned by her. Oh Lord. Between his training and the tutelage of an Old One this could become a very dire situation."

"We don't know that for sure." Angel said as he forced his features back to human guise and came up, arcing widely away from the box. Exchanging a tense glance with Rupert knelt down on the other side of the candles and laid the sketchpad down flat on the floor. "This is probably the other half of the message."

"Without a doubt." Rupert concurred, giving a motion for Angel to open the pad. His breath hissed through his teeth at the sight of the first sketch, a head and shoulders view of Wesley at the moment of his death. Sightless eyes locked upward in their sockets, lips stained with he siring blood, mouth frozen in his final cry, head pushed back into the gravel exposing the obscene insult to his throat as the rain made ersatz tears upon his cheeks.

Rupert let out a ragged moan and turned away. "She seems to be proud of her work... next page, I've seen enough."

"It's no better." Angel observed. "His rising, and his first kill. There's the same 'J' cut that was in the photo Kate showed me." He waited a moment for Rupert to respond but was met with stone silence. He turned the page and snorted. "Looks like the domination went well."

Rupert gave the erotic scene a cool assessment and voiced an even colder critique of Angel's comment. "I fail to see the humor."

"I wasn't trying to be funny. They fought for it and she took him." He tapped the picture. "I just wish she would show us her full face in one of these so we could identify her by sight."

"Neither here nor there. Let's see the.. next.. oh Dear God."

Both Rupert and Angel felt the hair rise on the back of their necks as the portrait danced under the flickering candlelight. They saw it immediately, for there drawn in shades of grey lay clear declaration of what Wesley had become.

Rupert felt a dryness well up in his throat as he gazed at the rendering. He bent forward and read the title which lay over Rita's flamboyant signature mark. "The Acolyte. Now we know, without reservation, that she has taken him."

A minute ticked by before Angel broke the spell by roughly slapping the pad shut. "Let's get out of here." He snarled. "They can't be far."

"Yes, of course." Rupert muttered. He blew out the candles and slowly arose to his feet. "Even though they will not appreciate my call, I should give the Council a warning of has happened."

Angel was already at the door. "If you want to. But I'm telling you, this ends tonight." He reached over and yanked the askew door from its remaining support. "Because tonight we 'will' find them both."

The rhythmic throb of the engines cut into Wesley's mind dragging him back out of his already restless sleep. He slowly opened his eyes and offered a quiet hiss to express his displeasure at being awakened. Focusing in on the sound he decided that the noise had become more powerful than the last time it had interrupted his rest. "We must be on our way."

"Yes." Rita answered from a small desk across the room. "We are at the edge of the harbor, being escorted by the tugboats. Soon we will be officially out to sea."

Wesley acknowledged this information with a non-committal "Mmmmm." Even though the accommodations were better than he expected he still did not care for the idea of leaving Los Angeles. But what Mistress wanted, Mistress seemed to get. This suite for was a perfect example. When she had said that they were taking a freighter to Europe he had expected to spend three weeks boxed up in a crate which had been tossed upside down in some rusty hold. But these were surprisingly spacious quarters in a surprisingly modern ship. It was one of two vessels owned by Westfall Distributing and its amenities had been freely given to them for this trip. Wesley allowed himself a smile as her offhand comment replayed in his mind: "Oh, and by the way. Most of the crew are demon or half-breeds and they have no qualms about our 'special buffet' that is chained below decks."

"And so we are on our way." He thought to himself. "Abroad for a season. Away from the annoyances of city life." Wesley's face morphed as he remembered his main annoyance. "Oh yes Rupert, I will be returning to deal with you." He muttered to himself as his anger swelled up within him.

His ire caused him to tense and shift his position without thinking of the consequence. Wesley bared his fangs as pain shot through his healing chest, shoulder and back while lightly veiled within his hissing growl the words "son of a bitch" came forward and hung in the air. With a measured pace Rita came across the sitting room and knelt at his side. She propped an elbow on the couch arm and rested her head within her cupped hand. With a small noise of empathy she reached over and drew his shirt back exposing the entry wound left by the crossbow bolt. "You're healing nicely."

"It's been ten damn hours, shouldn't it be completely knitted back together by now?" Wesley groused.

"No, it went all the way through and shattered your collarbone in the process." Rita said as her finger traced figure eights around the bloody scab, down and around his nipple and back up. Her eyes went to his and she bent over beginning a line of kisses which followed his jawline upward until her lips brushed his earlobes. "You are not feeding, there is no reason for you to look like that. Control... never reveal your pain, don't let your anger show." She whispered

Wesley rolled his head and morphed back into human, only to become full vampire again as Rita's fingernail dug deep into his wound. He arched upward on the couch, pulling away from her and snarled. "What in the hell do you think..."

"Never reveal you pain, never let your anger show." She repeated as she came up on the couch and slid face to face onto his lap. Again her finger began to outline the edges of his now bleeding injury. Wesley pushed her hand away and held it tightly to the side. "That's easy for you to say, you don't have a hole in you the size of a lemon!"

Rita's free hand came up and stroked his gnarled vampire features. "There is no reason for this now. Only show your demon when feeding or fighting."

"So torture does not count? Silly me, I thought it did."

With a soft hiss Rita reached over to the end table and picked up a heavy cut glass ashtray and without a word smashed it on the surface. With a unnerving smile she chose a long, razor sharp fragment and offered it to Wesley.

As soon as he took the shard she reached down and pulled her shirt off over her head. She tossed it to the floor and then reached behind herself and unclasped her bra letting it fall between them. She then bent backwards and presented herself to him. A flash of anger went through Wesley and with his fingernail he raised a red welt across her from armpit to armpit. "Mistress, I will call your bluff."

Her face became almost serene. "Call it, if you dare."

Wesley held the glass up and without a second thought slashed a deep cut across her from shoulder to shoulder.

Her only reaction was a tightening of her hold upon his legs. Wesley drew back and again cut her this time across top of her breasts. He raised the shard, gripping it so tightly that the edge cut deeply into his hand. With an enraged howl he threw the fragment to the side and shouted, "What in the hell are you trying to prove?!"

Rita drew her fingertips through her blood and marked Wesley's brow with an ancient sign. Then again she swirled her fingers in her blood and brought them forward to reddened Wesley's lips. "Taste the pain, taste the anger. Both bitter, both sweet."

Wesley bowed his head and struggled to regain his human face in the presence of so much blood and emotion.

"Did you taste it?" She whispered.

"Yes Mistress."

"With each hunt, with each kill, with each dry husk you leave in your wake your power will grow. Many exist for centuries, but become gnarled and twisted because they cannot control our demon."

Wesley raised his now reformed countenance. "How do we control it? Teach me, for I must know."

All hints of Rita's emotions disappeared as if suddenly hidden under a mask. "Accept the pain and the anger for what they are... not for what you remember them to be... for now pain is your breath, anger is your heartbeat. Use them as such or they will destroy you." She reached out and again drew blood from the raw hole in his chest

Wesley pressed himself back into the couch cushions as the pain of her probing touch shot through him, but he kept in control. Through half-lidded eyes he met her searching gaze. "I understand, Mistress."

"Good, because it's a hard lesson." Rita said approvingly as she glided her hand upward from his chest to his neck to his cheek drawing him close for a lingering kiss. She slid off his lap and stood before him appraising his understanding and finding it worthy of further instruction. Then taking one of his hands into hers she led him to his feet. "Now let's go rest.

"Yes Mistress." Wesley said not as a servant but as a willing neophyte to this dark teacher. A smile curled along his lips as he began to feel that he had finally found his station. Yes, this existence suited him well and a trip abroad in the company of Mistress Rita suddenly seemed to be the perfect plan.

"Good morning Mr. Giles. I think you're going to get wet."

"Good morning to you also, Mrs. Barton. And I think I can get this run in before it rains." Rupert answered with a wave as he tried to jog around his neighbor and her five barking poodles.

"I don't know about that. It's looking awful dark over in the West." She answered while parking her frame in the middle of the sidewalk. "I don't know why you do this to yourself. Running around getting all winded at your age."

"Pardon?" Rupert said in semi-mock affront. "Mrs. Barton, I'm not completely 'over' the proverbial hill just yet. Granted I can see the top ridge, but as for being over it..." He shook his head and ended his statement with a "cluck" sound."

"I don't know about that." She said with a wave of her finger. "Remember you broke your wrist last Spring doing that foolish skiing thing. How is your wrist anyway? Still bothering you?"

Rupert held up his right hand and twisted it around to show off its mobility. "For the first month or so after I got the cast off it would twinge now and then, but see... good as new. In matter of fact I helped a pair of friends move back home from college just last week and it did not give me a bit of trouble." He smiled at her. "I do thank you for asking, but I must be on my way if I want to stay dry."

With a wave and a nod Giles set out on his morning jog. Casting an eye at the thickening clouds he was thankful that it was Tuesday for that meant that he would be taking the shortest of his customary routes. Over to the nature reserve and back via a sparcely traveled side road.

Quickly he settled into his rhythm, pacing himself in a steady but not exhausting gait. Rounding a curve at the he caught sight of a car parked under a highway overpass. He slowed down a bit as he passed by it but saw not a soul.

"Ow! Ow! Darn it! Cripe!" A woman's angry voice accompanied by the clatter of metal hitting the ground brought Giles to a stop. He stopped and watched as she came into view, standing by the back bumper wrapping a tissue around her bleeding hand and doing a perfect rendition of the "ouchie dance". With a unintelligible oath she gave her car a kick and looked down at her hand.

"Excuse me. Do you need some assistance?" Rupert asked as he came across the road toward her.

The woman took a cautious step back then suddenly smiled in recognition. "Hey, you're the librarian from the high school, right?"

Rupert cocked his head to one side. "Ummm... yes, I was. and you are?"

"Oh, I'm Marie Pierce. I was a Senior the first year you were there. I kinda recognized your accent." She grimaced and held her hand a little tighter. "Do you know how to change a tire? I tried but I can't get that jack thing to work and I think I just cut myself bad enough to get stitches."

"Oh dear." Rupert said with concern. He knelt down beside the rear passenger tire and began to fiddle with the jack. "I'm a little rusty, but I think I can help." Marie came over and crouched down beside him. "Dad told me that I should learn how to do this but it just seemed like I never got around to it."

Rupert nodded in agreement. "It is sound advice. Everyone should know how to do this type of emergency repairs."

"Yeah, I know." She sighed. "Oh, man this hurts."

"This won't take long." Giles answered as he bent forward to concentrate on getting the jack into position. He had just picked up the lever rod to slide it into it's casing when he heard Marie let out a choked scream. Rupert jerked his head around and saw Marie frozen in terror at his side staring upward to at a figure who had appeared from around the front of the disabled car.

Wesley sauntered toward them in full game face. "Hello Mr. Giles. Beautiful day is it not? Cloudy, rain, a tad on the coolish side..."

Rupert's hand tighten around the metal rod. "Run dear, now... run for your life." He calmly ordered the young woman.

Wide eyed, she remained rooted at his side. Rupert chanced one more barked "RUN MARIE!" before he turned his back on the woman and started to scramble to his feet to meet the challenge. He was halfway up when Marie's hands clamped around his chest and yanked him off balance, pulling him back hard upon the ground.

"There is no Marie." Rita revealed as she leaned forward for the kill.

As he felt her fangs drive into the side of his neck Giles swung the metal rod backward with all his strength whipping it up against the side of Rita's head. Blindsided by the attack from the rear Rupert scrambled to beat the fury off his back before Wesley made his move.

But the move was made. In a blink of an eye Wesley covered the eight short feet between them and ripped the rod from his grasp. Rupert tried to kick Wesley's feet out from under him but the vampire sidestepped. The horrible realization that he only had seconds to break free shot through his mind. With one hand he grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled while with the other he formed a fist and brought it into play, smashing it again and again into Rita's forehead. A glimmer of hope flickered as her grip lessened, but it was only a glimmer as her bloody hand came up and crammed between his lips.

Rupert tasted the siring blood and using both hands he wrenched her hand from his mouth. Wesley was now on him, straddling his legs forcing them into useless immobility. Only ten seconds had passed since the attack had begun but Rupert felt his life draining away from Rita's greedy feasting. Wesley curled his cold hands around Rupert's and forced them down. Leaning forward with a faint sneer he brought his face to within inches of Rupert's. "Now I shall watch you die, Mr. Giles."

Rita removed her battered face from Rupert's neck. "You may finish him if you like."

"Thank you Mistress, you are too kind. But you go on and finish for I'm sated for the moment. She was quite sweet and filling."

Giles heard as well as felt the fangs sink back into his throat.

Rupert's head swayed back and froth as his body tried to find the blood to keep him conscious. Wesley's words screamed through his mind.. "sated".. oh God.. "she"... she who? Wesley's sneer turned into a sarcastic smile as Rupert began to shiver beneath him. He reached forward and cupped his hand under Rupert's chin and held it stationary. "For your information, Mr. Giles.. Willow is laying at you elbow in the boot of this vehicle. Dead as hell, but that will change with the sunset."

Mercifully Rupert's dying mind no longer was no longer capable of hearing these foul words. It now flashed his life, blocking the evil face before him until the very end. Then he came back and with his last ounce of life focused on the malice that sat astride him... and he spit in its face.

Then the darkness came.