Brian rushed into the loft to find Justin sound asleep. He saw the slight bruise on his lover’s face but ignored it for the moment. He had been worried when Justin’s pain hit him, but he’d become terrified when he could not link to his mate. Still, he didn’t know what had happened in his absence…at Babylon or at his loft. Brian looked around his home and saw a rose bush growing from his floor and a tree jutting through his wall.

“What the fuck?” Brian snapped, glancing over at the crew left in the room. He scanned Em’s and Ted’s faces, then slid his glance past those that were protecting him at Babylon. “I’d better hear someone talking!”

“Sire,” Matt said softly. “You said if there was any trouble, I was to make sure Master Justin was brought home safely. I did as you told me…”

“What happened to his face?”

“He didn’t want to leave, Sire,” Matt began only to find he had no way of explaining it. Sure he could say the Slayer punched him, but it was his job to protect Justin. “I um….she um…”

“What Mr. Smooth is trying to say is that I punched his lights out,” Buffy clarified.

“You hit him?” Brian asked a bit confused.

“He wouldn’t leave,” Buffy continued, her head high and her hands on her hips. She wanted to speak with confidence, but she found herself speaking more apologetically with every word. “And there were a bunch of bad guys who were talking about kidnapping and you were…doing…with the nakedness and the slurping, so Matt picked Justin up and when Justin didn’t want to go, I punched him so he wouldn’t stand and try to fight, seeing as he’s all pregnant and…really, he should be careful with the baby. They could have gotten hurt.”

“How the fuck did you say that in one breath?” Sasha snipped, sniffing Buffy. “You must breathe, you’re not Kindred.”

“I don’tttt givve a fuckkkk whho ssshe ttthhinks ssshe isss,” Justin stuttered, getting up. He held his head and pushed Matt aside when the fledgling approached him. “I wanttttt that bbbbitch ddeadd!”

“Justin, calm down,” Brian said soothingly. He wrapped his arms around Justin’s waist and caressed his lover’s belly. “You’re in pain.”

“Daedalus is here,” Bartox announced, startling Buffy and Willow.

The Nosferatu Primogen quickly made his way to Justin, examining the young Toreador. It didn’t take him long to announce that Justin’s pain was false labor though he expressed some concern to Brian.

“Too much excitement can speed up the process,” Daedalus explained. “The unborn needs more time to grow within Justin. The pregnancy must be prolonged much further.”

“I’m right here!” Justin snapped as he rose, his face red with anger. “Stop acting like I’m comatose.”

“I could take offense to that,” Sasha said, though few heard her.

“You shouldn’t be so bitchy,” Buffy remarked. “Your friends are just trying to look out for you, I mean, even me…against my better judgment, mind you, felt a natural instinct to protect a baby.”

“I’m not a baby!”

“I meant your-”

“I’m gonna kill you!” Justin growled, turning to Brian. “I can’t believe you still haven’t killed that bitch. She hit me Bri!”

“I’m sorry, Justin,” Matt softly apologized. “I should have protected you.”

“You were just doing to your job,” Justin replied, though harsher than he had intended. “And you didn’t punch me in the face. You also haven’t been trying to kill me!”

“Justin, calm down,” Brian began, only to be cut off.

“Are you blind?” Justin snapped. “Just because she stands for good doesn’t mean she’s good for us or our people, Bri. She’s a Slayer. She can’t help what she is. In the end she has no choice but to try and kill us…our baby!”

“What’s a Slayer?” Sasha asked, shrugging her shoulders.

“A little blonde bint who ain’t good for much, but nag and a shag,” Spike replied. “Oh yeah, she shops too.”

“Hey,” Buffy said defensively. “Mommy over there’s way hormonal.”

“Hello?” Sasha snipped, mocking the Slayer. “Princess is…like totally pregnant and when you’re like totally pregnant you have, like, a total right to be hormonal and stuff.”

“I so don’t talk like that.”

“The fact remains that Justin must be tended to,” Daedalus said, trying to get the conversation back on track. “He needs to be protected and preferably not placed in a vulnerable situation as he was tonight.”

“Yeah,” Brian sighed, knowing full well he allowed the situation to occur in the first place.

“Stop treating me like some helpless woman!” Justin screamed, clinching his fists until he bled. “I’m a man and the Toreador Primogen!”

“What does toreador primo-geni-ture mean?” Buffy asked innocently. “Is that like a club?”

“I think he’s the first born in the line of bullfighters,” Spike chuckled sarcastically. “Or he could be the ancestor to a bullfighter…I’m not sure entirely.”

“Oh,” Buffy replied, glancing to Willow. “Is he being serious?”

“No,” Willow answered, smiling at the pregnant male. “What it means is that Justin’s a very powerful vampire…who’s a man and even though he’s pregnant, he can kick all of our butts if he wanted to.”

Buffy began to protest, but didn’t when she saw the look on Willow’s and Brian’s faces. She almost rolled her eyes, but instead chose to smile largely and agree. “Absolutely,” Buffy agreed. “Justin, you’re way with the…and the…I’m sure if we fought you’d so win.”

“You’re all mocking me,” Justin said so softly most did not hear him. His eyes raged with anger as blood dripped from his palms. He could feel Brian trying to get near him, but at that moment he needed his distance, pushing Brian back with his mind alone, until his lover tripped on the stairs behind him.

The room shook as branches from the invading tree withdrew in the direction from which it had once invaded the loft, leaving a breach. The rose bush, on the other hand, snaked its way across the room, covering the holes and most the windows on the main wall. When the fresh smell of roses enveloped Justin’s senses, the young Toreador turned his attention to the one he detested. Without a nod or a word, Buffy was tossed across the room, her back slamming into the kitchen’s island, forcing her head into the marble and her feet into the pots and pans hanging above. She landed on the floor with a crash and a groan.

Justin had every intention on assaulting Buffy until the Slayer lay dead. The only thing that could have stopped him, did. Brian’s arms enfolded him and his mate’s husky voice whispered into his ear. All he could smell was Brian and it was enough to make his knees melt. By the time he could even attempt to focus back on Buffy, all of Justin’s strength had been depleted. There was nothing left to do but curl into Brian’s arms and allow his mate to take them to bed.

Brian held Justin until his mate stopped breathing. It was then he knew Justin had finally fallen asleep. He knew he should probably get up, but decided that he needed time to think. Holding Justin closely, his mind drifted to the possible apocalypse and the repercussions it could have on his life. Sure, it would absolve him from his parental responsibilities, but he didn’t want to think about that. He was an admitted asshole, but even he would never wish harm on his child, any of his children…or childer for that matter. He wasn’t Craig Taylor, nor would he ever become such a bastard. Instead, Brian thought of things he had more control over: The Ventrue Primogen. He wanted Chris dead, and though he hadn’t said anything yet, his mind was working overtime thinking about how he would make the Ventrue dust.

****

Running for dear life down a dark alley, Chris pushed aside a tin garbage can and slid in a puddle of muddy water, falling to the concrete. He quickly picked himself off the ground and though he struggled, he continued down the alley past cardboard boxes some unfortunate souls called home. He would have hid in one if he thought he could have. But there is no hiding from Kindred, especially when you’ve just tried to kill the Prince.

He knew there was a presence around him and his only safety was within the confines of the Ventrue Headquarters. Sadly, he wasn’t entirely sure about that. He was certain a Blood Hunt would be called on him, but at the moment all he could think of was saving his neck in the here and now. Turning into another alley, Chris looked behind him to make sure that there were no Tremere following. There weren’t, but while he was distracted, he crashed head on with a teenage boy.

“Get the fuck outta my way!” Chris screeched, getting to his feet.

“Someone should teach you some manners,” the young man replied, standing. “Luckily for you I have nothing to do right now.”

“Really?” Chris growled, showing his fangs. “I eat little boys like you for lunch.”

“Is this where I’m supposed to be scared?” The young man asked. “I’m sort of new to these parts, so you’re just going to have to fill me in.”

“I’m a vampire,” Chris growled, “and the more your heart beats, the hungrier I get, human.”

Chris charged the young, skinny man who was faster than expected. Once he was caught, Chris grabbed the boy only to be punched, hard, in the face. He scrambled to his feet only to be kicked so violently that he crashed into a dumpster behind him.

“You little fucker!” Chris swore.

“Such language from a Ventrue,” came a voice from the shadows of the dark alley. “I would expect more from one of my Clan.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Chris asked, standing.

“It doesn’t concern you,” the voice replied. “All that should concern you is taking me to the Ventrue Primogen of this backwater town.”

“I am the Ventrue Primogen!”

Chris didn’t see the voice that laughed at him but it didn’t matter, it was humiliating just the same. He charged the voice only to be struck by the young man once again. Apparently, the teenager had been kind in the last encounter. He was not being so polite this round, breaking Chris’ knee with a stomp of his foot. Chris did try to get up only to be punched so hard in the face that he lost all consciousness.

“This is your fearless leader?” The boy mocked. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“He’s not my leader,” the voice replied with a sigh. “It’s because of guys like him I chose to distance myself from the Clan. Well, that and…”

“What?”

The voice paused before resigning to the answer, “They didn’t like me much.”

“I wonder why,” the young man snorted, picking up Chris. “So, we off to that Prince guy you were talking about?”

“I’m not fond of Tremeres,” the voice told the boy. “Our Clan’s dislike for the Tremere goes back almost as far as our distaste for the Malkavians…or theirs for the Assamites.”

“Your Clan,” the young man corrected. “I’m just here to help save the world.”

“Our Clan.”

“Whatever,” the young man scoffed. “Where to next?”

“To meet the person in charge of this town.”

****

Brian strolled into Michael’s room without knocking. He sat next to his old friend on an old couch without a word.

“What’s my punishment?” Michael asked.

“Punishment?” Brian replied, feigning ignorance. “For what?”

“You know what I did.”

“What would that be, Mikey?”

“I fucked up your loft,” Michael sighed. “I hoped you just might forgive me for creating a jungle in your loft, but then I forgot to magically create Tarzan.”

“That would have been nice,” Brian remarked, still hiding any emotion. “Especially since my trip to Babylon was cut short.”

“I heard…the Ventrue?”

“Who else?” Brian replied, glancing over to his best friend. He tried to tap into his childe’s thoughts, but the spell that had gotten Michael into so much trouble had faded. He wanted to sense the fledgling’s feelings but that, too, seemed to be out of his capability. Instead, he waited for Michael to say something, so when his childe was silent, he leaned against his fledgling’s side and smirked, “Next time you try that spell, could you grow some Iris’. They go much better with the décor.”

“I was thinking Gardenias,” Michael suggested, leaning his head on Brian’s shoulder. “Though you know that’s not what I was trying to do.”

“Guessed as much,” Brian said, finally sensing something from him. He smiled. Michael seemed content. “So this is when you tell me what you were planning.”

“A growth spell,” Michael lied.

“What for?” Brian wondered aloud, looking at his best friend. When Michael glanced downward, almost shamefully, Brian snorted trying not to laugh. “You do know bottoms don’t have to worry about their size, just as long as they’re tight.”

“Yeah right!”

“I’ve fucked guys with small dicks before.”

“Twice?” Michael snorted.

“I don’t fuck guys twice.”

“Since when?” Michael asked, looking at Brian, only to see his Sire immediately glance at the floor. “Justin?” When Brian didn’t respond, Michael knew his answer. There was no way to fight this, not right now. Instead of pressing the matter like he would normally do, Michael decided to pull back. He finally had a connection, however small, with Brian again. He didn’t want to lose that now. “Remember Jacob?”

Brian thought about it and answered, “Freckles, redhead, kinda stuttered when he saw me?”

“Yeah,” Michael sighed. “He used to take these pills to try and make his dick larger.”

“What?!”

“No shit,” Michael replied, happy to get the conversation back in a lighter mood. “I found them in his sock drawer once. It didn’t seem to make a difference though.”

“You fell asleep while he was fucking you, right?”

“Yeah…”

“It could never happen with me.”

“I’m sure Justin would agree,” Michael chuckled. When he saw Brian’s smile fade he added, “How is he? I felt some sorta pain earlier.”

“You really care?”

“Of course,” Michael replied with a sincere look. “He has a part of you inside of him.”

Brian watched Michael’s face and smiled. He knew his best friend and his lover would never really be the best of buddies, but any small step would help. He had to be cautious though; Brian knew how much Michael disliked Justin.

“It was a contraction or something. He’s not in labor, though.”

“Good to hear.”

“That’s even better to hear,” Brian said with a smile. He kissed Michael full on the lips and stood up. “I have business; you should really practice your spell work. It needs some help.”

Michael smiled until Brian left, feeling good about their conversation. The moment his Sire was gone, however, he brought out a pen and notepad. He immediately began to write down the name of every Clan he knew, but he was well aware it wouldn’t be enough. He had to be precise.

Not only was there still so much to do, Michael had to be careful. Although he hadn’t seen her, he knew Sasha was up and about. Her loud mouth could be heard from the first to fourth floors of The Loft. He knew that she would she be curious and vocal about any and everything, especially about magical events that had no obvious explanation. This meant that Michael had to find a new place to continue his spell. He had an idea, but there were a few other tasks he had to finish before another location could be sought out. There was still so much to do in such a short time…

****

“So,” Sasha began, walking slowly around Buffy. “A Slayer’s job is to go around killing Kindred, huh? Seems like a crappy way to make a living.”

“Sadly, I have to agree,” Buffy concurred with a sigh. “Life seems to always come second.”

“Cry me a bloody river, luv,” Spike smirked. “There hasn’t been a time when you haven’t stepped up and kicked the winning goal.”

“Doing it and wanting to do it are two different things,” Buffy explained to her former lover. “Kind of like my pseudo relationship with you.”

“It was the best you ever had,” Spike retorted confidently.

“Angel was better.”

“Angel was better at killing your mates, luv,” Spike snapped, a bit offended. “But then my dear ole Sire never did respond well to love…with or without ‘is makeshift soul.”

“You’re discussing Angelus?” Isis asked, strolling into the room.

“Mr. Dark and Broodiness ‘imself,” Spike answered, watching Isis. “Not only does he have the Big Sticky, the bloody bastard is stuck with that nasty human soul.”

“Yes,” Isis agreed. “At the time Tremere and Ventrue coexisted without much trouble. He would have been of great use to his people and to the Tremere for that matter. Sadly, when his time came he got the ‘Big Sticky’, as Spike so aptly put it, and became ineffectual. However, in the end Angelus showed his prowess and became the pride of the Tzimisce.”

“What do you mean?” Willow asked. “Infected?”

“His blood was tainted and poisoned by the Tzimisce,” Isis replied. “I’ll put it in terms you’ll understand…he had kooties.”

“Guess you should be getting yourself checked,” Spike shot out at Buffy. “Been itching anywhere dark and warm?”

“OK, I’m straight and you’re grossing me out,” Sasha said. She sat next to Willow and addressed the eldest in the room. “How is his blood infected and by what?”

“What’s the big commotion?” Em wondered aloud. “Aren’t you guys immortal? I mean there must be a reason Brian reminds me about this every time I see him?”

“Is it like crabs?” Ted asked. “Cause one time I almost did it with a guy whose crotch looked like-”

“It is soooo important for your lifespan, that you so not finish that statement,” Buffy interrupted. She turned to Isis and asked, “Can you just explain what you mean?”

Isis thought about what she should tell the humans. From what she knew, Buffy and Angelus had had a torrid affair until he lost his human soul and became one of the infected once again. Yet, even in his deranged state, Angelus kept the Masquerade intact. Nothing really ever made sense with him. Buffy, on the other hand, did not have Isis fooled. She was smarter than she looked and useful in certain circumstances. Isis had a plan and it seemed that she must divulge some information to see it come to fruition.

“Angelus was Embraced by a trumpet named Darla,” Isis began.

“Killed her,” Buffy shot out. “Well…the first time.”

“Though borne a Ventrue, Darla was Embraced by an old Nosferatu who called himself The Master…”

“Killed him,” Buffy proudly stated. “Twice.”

“To keep Angelus and Darla obedient, The Master (as he called himself) bound them by blood,” Isis continued, ignoring the Slayer’s outbursts. “A Blood Bond isn’t just about exchanging blood, it is about forever connecting one Kindred to another. This gives one power and makes the other subservient.”

Willow thought about what Isis said and knew exactly what it meant. She was Blood Bound to Brian. Though a part of her was terrified, another part of her felt safe. There was so much she still didn’t know.

“Royal Blood,” Isis announced, knowing she was telling some of her people’s secrets, “or Kindred lineage means little when your blood is tainted. Though you are not one of us, Slayer, I will tell you this…The Master, though old, was outcast from his people and our society long before the time of Angelus. He had allowed himself to be Bound by Blood to a retched Tzimisce, those putrid vampires who you take so much pride in killing.

“When the Master was infected, he did everything in his power to infect those of importance in our society. Because the elder Kindred knew better, he could only go after the mortal Royal Bloods.”

Isis chuckled as she remembered those times. Though she had been young, she recalled having to protect her Sire’s children. She also remembered the outcome of The Master’s attempts to taint the Royal Bloods.

“He only succeeded once,” Isis said, shaking her head. “Darla was a nice find, but she had been cast away from her people as a mortal girl. Though she was one of us…her lifestyle…”

“She was a whore,” Spike clarified with a smile.

“-caused her to be infected by a disease as a mortal, therefore unworthy to be Embraced into Kindred and made immortal.”

“You don’t bite people that have…” Buffy wondered aloud, “…kooties?”

“Or that are dying,” Em replied. “Just ask Brian’s dad-or stepdad, I should say. I heard he’s on his deathbed as we speak.”

“Precisely, no person shall be Embraced if dying or infected by disease,” Isis stated. “This is why the Master’s conquest of Darla was not contested.”

“Bitch never was worth anything,” Spike spat out.

“I knew her as well and must agree. Angelus on the other hand was the Master’s only true conquest,” Isis informed the group. “Though he was a drunkard and a womanizer, he had Royal Blood. There are rumors that he was also diseased as a mortal, but it isn’t entirely clear. It could be the Ventrue were justifying the loss to The Master, though Liam could have very well had any number of ailments.”

“Who’s Liam?” Sasha asked. “I’m getting confused here.”

“Angelus’ born name,” Isis explained. “He was named after his grandfather…a man for whom I had great respect. Sadly, Angelus’ father had no desire to be with his people and decided to become a Godly man.”

“Like Brian’s bitchy Mama?” Em asked.

“Exactly.”

Buffy thought about everything she had just learned. She thought it could be a lie, but wondered why Isis would bother. It didn’t make any sense. What was Royal Blood? What did Isis mean by mortal Kindred? What did this mean about Angel?

“Why are you telling us this?” Buffy asked. “I mean aren’t I the enemy? And you’ve been way hush-hush so far. What’s the skinny?”

“The skinny is, as you’ve so elegantly put it,” Isis replied, “that I found out a few things about this apocalypse your Watchers notified you of.”

Isis rolled her eyes when the group began talking, most asking questions, at once. Everyone was interested in what she had found out, but this was not the time, not yet…

“What the hell are you waiting for?” Sasha finally screamed out above everyone’s chattering. “Spill the beans, chickie!”

“We must wait,” Isis replied calmly.

“What the hell for?” Sasha and Buffy asked together.

“Our Prince.”

****

Michael sat staring at a blank piece of paper. He knew what he had to do, but his mind wandered to what always seemed to be on his mind: Brian. His best friend, his Sire, his dream was always there, yet out of his reach. There was a time when he would spend hours with Brian, smoking pot and talking about nothing or other times when they’d go to Babylon and dance all night long, laughing the night away. It seemed so long ago. That was before he became one of the undead, before Brian became Prince or any of them had met a twink named Justin.

The moment Michael thought of the fair haired Toreador, he snarled as he thought of the pain the boy had caused him. Michael wasn’t as stupid as everyone thought he was. He knew it had been a great while since Brian or Justin had fed from him or he from them. The link had been diminishing for quite some time. Michael would have protested, but for the goals he had to accomplish. So, Michael wrote down each clan as he knew them…

Tremere
Toreador
Ventrue
Gangrel
Brujah
Malkavian
Nosferatu
Assamite
Tzimisce
Lasombra
Giovanni
Ravnos
Followers of Set

Michael crossed out Brujah and Gangrel. He had already successfully used their blood to complete his spell. There was still something missing, he thought. Maybe there was another Clan he was missing. Maybe he had forgotten a Clan. There had to be something missing since he needed a pair of warring Clans for each week, for seven weeks. But there were only 13 Clans!

Michael left his room and ventured outside with his book under his arm. Staring at the buildings around him, his eyes fell upon the window to Lazarus’ room across the street. He bit his bottom lip and went to see his mentor. He passed the guards without issue and went upstairs to where the elder lived and knocked on the door.

“Come in, Michael,” Lazarus said from behind the door.

Michael entered Lazarus’ room for the first time and was surprised by the cleanliness of the elder man’s room. For some reason he had expected something different. There were expensive items abound, from the original Renaissance paintings to the hand woven Oriental rugs. It was a room filled with wealth acquired over centuries.

“Nice place,” Michael complimented.

“You’re not here to redecorate are you?”

“No,” Michael chuckled, following the voice into an office.

Lazarus sat at an old wooden desk, writing. The room was illuminated by a single candle, placed close by. Michael watched the Kindred elder finish his thoughts and lock his journal, using a few well spoken words.

“I thought we Tremere are supposed to be modernists,” Michael said, sitting in a chair in front of the desk. “Want me to turn the light on?”

“I’ve written my memoirs by candlelight since I was a child,” Lazarus said, leaning back in his chair. “I will not change that now.” He cleared his throat and crossed his legs. “What is it that you need?”

Michael answered Lazarus’ question by handing him his list of Clan names. He waited as Lazarus examined the page with arrows and lines pointing from one Clan to another.

“So, did I get them right?” Michael asked.

“What is this?”

“Warring Clans,” Michael answered. “See I got it this way…”

Tremere vs. Ventrue
Toreador vs. Nosferatu
Gangrel vs. Brujah
Malkavian vs. Giovanni
Assamite vs. Ravnos
Tzimisce vs. Lasombra
Followers of Set

“Were you guessing?” Lazarus laughed. “Though we fight with the Ventrue, they are in no way our ancient adversary.”

“I could use a little help…”

Lazarus looked at the page and shook his head. He took his pen and began to rewrite each Clan and the Clan they have warred with since the beginning. He knew Michael needed some tutoring, but by the looks of the page before him, he could see that Michael a required a more stringent education.

“There,” Lazarus said, returning the paper to Michael. “You will see that Tremere have always and will always war with the Assamites. We stole their ability to live and they’ve not forgiven us for it yet, nor will they ever.”

Tremere vs. Assamite
Toreador vs. Nosferatu
Gangrel vs. Brujah
Malkavian vs. Ventrue
Followers of Set vs. Ravnos
Tzimisce vs. Lasombra
Giovanni

Michael looked at the paper and asked, “What about the Giovanni?”

“They have no qualms with any Clan,” Lazarus replied. “They have never been in any conflict with any Clans because if they do, all Clans will war with them. The Giovanni stay out of Kindred politics and stay in Italy, nothing more, nothing less. Why is it so important?”

“Seven wars,” Michael answered. “I just thought there was one more.”

“Hmm,” Lazarus pondered. “There shall always be a war between the Prince and the Caitiff. Even in the time before the Camarilla, the war between the Lords and clanless raged. The thin blooded have always been a burden for those in power, especially the Royal Bloods.”

“That’s it!”

“What’s it?”

Michael didn’t answer, he just rushed out of Lazarus’ apartment. He seemed to be on the right track. The only problem for him was to find the blood of each Clan. After thinking about it for a moment, Michael decided that wasn’t his only problem. His ‘brother’ Matt appeared to be bigger trouble than he had ever anticipated. It didn’t matter than Matt appeared to be everyone’s favorite, Michael knew he’d always have a special place with Brian, but his ‘brother’ always seemed to be suspicious of him. Right now that was a thorn in his side, especially since Brian seemed to favor Matt for the moment. Michael would change that soon…very soon.

****

Brian strolled into the room, not bothering to look at anyone but his youngest childe. He stopped in front of Matt and brushed a few loose hairs from his childe’s face aside.

“You did exactly what I told you,” Brian assured the fledgling. “So now that Sasha’s awake and Cash can focus, I want you to learn from him, especially since Lazarus is better at plotting than fighting.”

“Yes, Sire.”

“What?” Sasha asked, feigning shock. “No kudos here? I did wake up from a fucking coma to save your skinny designer clad ass.”

“Me too, mate,” Spike agreed. “I came, I conquered, I kicked the shite out of vamps I wouldn’t bother pissing on.”

“I killed some of those guys and brought your pregnant boyfriend home,” Buffy added only have Brian glare at her. “Sure I punched him, but who wouldn’t have?” The Slayer looked around the room innocently and added, “I know some of you wanted to do the same thing.”

“I watched, yet stood around and did nothing,” Em chimed in. “Well…except criticize those Ventrues’ fashion sense and their audacity to try and pass themselves off as proper gay men.”

“Can you all shut the fuck up?” Brian replied, rolling his eyes. “Thanking the masses isn’t really my thing and as good as I am, I can’t suck multiple cock at one time.”

“I’ve heard otherwise,” Em scoffed under his breath, though everyone heard him. “I’ve heard the tales of the great Brian Kinney…”

Brian ignored Em and patted his childe on the cheek, commending the fledgling on his good work. If the others wanted compliments, they should know by now that Brian wasn’t their man. As far as he was concerned, Sasha and Cash were just doing their jobs. Spike, on the other hand, was showing his loyalty. If the platinum blond hadn’t, either Brian or Spike would be dead. In short, Spike did himself a favor since Brian had no intention of losing. Problem solved. Buffy was the Slayer and didn’t deserve anything from him. He was about to commend Willow, but a quick nod from the witch told him he didn’t need to. That made him proud. Brian knew he had to assign Willow a mentor to teach her more about Kindred, but…

“First things first,” Brian said, ignoring Em altogether. “Cash, I need you to find that prick, Chris whatever his last name is, Primogen of the Ventrue Clan, and rip off his balls.”

“Is that an official decree of Blood Hunt?” Sasha chuckled.

“It is,” Brian announced. “Ted, call Justine at Vanguard and tell her to put the word out about the Blood Hunt.”

“Got it,” Ted replied, wondering when he became Brian’s lackey yet feeling strangely proud.

“As for my grand estate here,” Brian continued, “apparently we can thank Mikey for the extra shrubbery. You can also thank him for fucking up his spell so badly that he accidentally woke you up, Sasha.”

“He did it?” Sasha asked.

“Yep.”

“I suppose he’s got to be good for something,” Sasha snickered. “What was he doing anyway?”

“He was trying out a growth spell,” Brian replied with a chuckle. “One that failed miserably.”

The group laughed without a word. Everyone knew why Michael would want a growth spell, well, except for Buffy and Willow who easily caught on when Spike grabbed his crotch and moved his hand in mock self gratification.

Matt, on the other hand, kept quiet. He watched his Sire and didn’t know if Brian completely believed Michael’s story. One thing was for sure: Matt did not believe, in any way, one word out of his brother’s mouth. Unless, that is, his conversation was anything negative about Justin. However, it wasn’t his job to investigate Michael, it was Brian’s.

Brian sat down and motioned for Matt to sit at his side, which his childe did. He listened to the group chat, but kept his eye on Isis. As always, his mentor was focused on the situation at hand. She had a plan…she always did.

“I know you’re pissed that we went to Babylon,” Brian began telepathically. “But can we get over it until later?”

“Schedule in your arse chewing later,” Isis replied, using her mind. “And I don’t mean a proper gesture from Justin.”

“I would hope not,” Brian smirked.

“Do you recall our discussion about the Slayer and her infected former lover, Angelus?”

“Sure,” Brian recalled, still using his telepathy. “Darla, The Master and tainted Royal Blood…only now there’s a spell that can cure it.”

“I’ve been doing some plotting while you’ve been chatting with the little trouble maker,” Isis informed him. “It will get the Slayer to do what we need her to do when the time comes.”

“Is this about that stupid fucking apocalypse?”

“That and other very viable threats-”

“They’re talking,” Sasha announced. “You know I hate it when you guys talk, but don’t actually talk.”

“You can do that too?” Willow asked amazed. “It’s kinda fun using telepathy.”

“We share the same blood,” Brian replied to the young witch, smiling seeing her face glow. “There’s a lot more you’ll learn when the right time shows itself.”

“Tremeres always get to do the cool stuff,” Sasha sighed. “All we Brujah get to do is kick some ass…hold on…I actually like doing that.”

“What’s a Brujah?” Buffy asked.

“A loudmouth redhead,” Spike answered, turning to Willow. “All you need to do is shoot off at the mouth and you’ll be as obnoxious as that bint.”

“Fuck you,” Sasha quipped back.

“Anytime, anywhere, luv,” Spike retorted.

“You’re lucky Cash isn’t here,” Sasha replied with a sly smile. “He’d kick your Ventrue ass all over the place.”

“Now, now, kiddies,” Brian said before anyone had more useless comments. “We could either listen to a bunch of bickering, and honestly I’d rather watch two dykes fuck, or we could listen to what Isis found out about this fucking apocalypse that so rudely interrupted my fucking life…and me fucking, period.”

“Thank you, Brian,” Isis began standing up and addressing the group. “Justicar Beg sent me a book he obtained from a high elder for the Ravnos Clan, deep in gypsy territory in Europe. This book tells of a prophecy called ‘The Rising of the New Family’, which would bring upon this apocalypse Buffy has been trying to stop.”

“The Watchers were right,” Buffy replied, feeling vindicated.

“They were,” Isis agreed. “They were also correct in assessing that it had to do with a magical birth of the first.”

“The first Slayer?” Buffy asked. “I’ve met her already.”

“Death,” Isis read, after opening a small tattered book. “Death will birth the Bringer of Life. The Bringer of Life will annihilate childer of The Beast, Father of all Kindred…”

“The apocalypse is a vampire apocalypse?” Buffy wondered aloud, a whole lot happier than before. “You’re joking right?”

“No, but I wasn’t finished yet,” Isis answered, her face stoic as she glanced at a stone faced Brian. She flipped a few pages forward and continued to read, “The Bringer of Life shall have His children as slaves, feeding upon their flesh, inflicting upon them what He had inflicted upon The Bringer of Life…”

“What did He inflict upon the Bringer of Life?” Em asked.

“You don’t want to know,” Isis replied.

“Who’s He?” Buffy asked.

“He?” Isis chuckled. “He goes by many names. He, Him, Ancient One, Jehovah, Yahweh, Allah…God…whatever you choose to call him.”

“So this Bringer of Life is going to come down,” Em gasped, “Kill all the Kindred and enslave all the humans?”

“Pretty much sums that up,” Isis said.

“This Bringer of Life is not really good at his job, is he?” Willow stated. “Shouldn’t he try to, you know, bring life? He could make babies, flowers or little puppies with stubby tails.”

“I’m taking it that’s not on his agenda,” Brian sighed, leaning back in his seat. “One thing is certain about this Bringer of Life.”

“What’s that?”

“He has to make some space for whatever it is he’s bringing.”

****

Julian brought out a cigarette and flicked the lighter, frustrated he was unable to cause a spark. He stood in a dried out lake under a small wooden bridge, waiting on a damp Philadelphia night for Craig Taylor. He had been waiting for ten minutes and questioned his sanity for going to see the Prince’s enemy once again. All he needed to do was lay low for a decade or two as Brian made examples of every Ventrue Primogen to step foot in Pittsburgh. But here he stood waiting for Craig Taylor, a man he did not trust, but had no choice except to follow.

“Sorry about that,” Craig said, skidding down a slight hill to get to Craig. “Had some things to tie up and kill before I could come.”

“It’s about time.”

“Don’t start your complaining,” Craig warned the Justicar. “Right now you need me.”

“As you need me,” Julian countered.

“I’ve done my part,” Craig replied. “I got rid of Beg didn’t I? That was something short of a miracle to accomplish if I don’t say so myself.”

“How about you don’t say so,” Julian snapped. “It’s not safe to speak his name. He has ears everywhere.”

“He’s in Europe,” Craig laughed. “And though the man’s powerful, he can’t eavesdrop from there. He’s got his hands full anyway. I called in a few favors that will have him trying to save one of his childer’s life.”

“I thought Brian was his only.”

“Birth childe,” Craig corrected. “He’s got a handful of childer to look after. And speaking of childer, have you heard from Chris?”

“No.”

“I wonder where that boy is,” Craig started, only to stop when he heard a crash.

Craig glanced up and saw his guards pummeled by a human teenaged boy. When he looked down, he saw Chris’ beaten body at his feet. Before he had a chance to react, the boy was by a man’s side. He could not see the man’s face, only a sturdy frame wearing a trench coat, highlighted by the brightness of the moon. However, his face didn’t matter. Both Craig and Julian knew the scent of the man.

“I know who you are,” Julian said.

“Julian Luna and Craig Taylor,” the man chuckled. “It hasn’t been long enough.”

“Feeling’s likewise,” Craig replied. “Though your timing couldn’t be more perfect.”

“What would you need me for?” The man asked.

“We need a Ventrue Primogen,” Craig answered.

“And not have that piece of work representing our people?” The man asked sarcastically, motioning to Chris’ limp body. “I’m surprised.” He took a step forward and placed his arm on the young man’s shoulder. “You know why I was exiled. Why me?”

“We’re running out of bodies,” Craig replied honestly. “We could also use someone with your reputation for blood and treachery. The Prince of Pittsburgh is a thorn in our side. I’ve known you to remove thorns much bigger than this fledgling Tremere.”

“You’re not answering my question,” the man snapped. “Why would you want me? I’m tainted.”

“With what, Tzimisce blood?” Julian asked, shaking his head. He wasn’t sure what’s Craig’s plans were, but he’d play along…for now.

“Or that human heart of yours,” Craig added.

“Both,” Angel replied, walking towards the men. His son, Conner, stood by his side and waited for either man to make a move, though none did. “I ask you again…why would you want me?”

“We want the Scourge of Europe,” Craig said. “We need someone strong enough, brave enough…”

“And stupid enough?” Angel asked.

“To get rid of this Tremere Prince,” Craig conceded, “yes.”

“He’s that untouchable?” Angel wondered aloud.

“Yes.”

“No one’s that untouchable,” Angel disagreed.

“Prove me wrong,” Craig replied.

“What’s in it for me?”

“What do you want?”

“Hmmm…” Angel pondered.

“I’ll give you two million dollars to become the Ventrue Primogen in Pittsburgh,” Craig announced. “When you’ve done that, I’ll give you four more to kill the Prince.”

Angel smiled so wickedly, it made Craig take a step back. He needed them to see that though he was tainted, he was still Kindred. But that was a small task. He had several larger ones to accomplish on his trip.

“Deal.”