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Living as Lenore: Chapter 9 (SPN/BTVS)

True Blood lips

 Title: Living as Lenore
Author: Luna (aka Luna_del_Cielo on lj)
Fandom: Supernatural/Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Cast of Characters: Tara/Lenore McLeod, Fergus McLeod/Crowley, Loki/Gabriel, Anya, Castiel, Kali, Eli, Dean, Sam, Scoobies
Rating: T
Summary: Willow tried to bring Tara back…and she did. Unfortunately, she was brought back to life in 1672. Now 'Lenore' has to deal with witches, demons, pagan gods, and even angels, as she struggles to find the red-haired woman she sees in her dreams.
Pairings: Anya/Gabriel, Tara/Willow, and several others will pop up at the whim of the author ;
Spoilers: BTVS S6E19 ‘Seeing Red’, SPN S2E3 ‘Bloodlust’. Spoilers for Crowley's past in S6 “Weekend at Bobby’s” and allusions to Loki's past in S5
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. If I did then fewer people would have died in each of those shows :)

Read specific chapters here:
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

Or all of the entire story here:
Living as Lenore
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Chapter 9: Enslaved to the Devil

A/N:

Warning: Sexual Assault (not very graphic, though.)



Unknown location,
July 1, 1701


Flames licked at the inside of her stomach walls and Lenore screamed as she curled into a ball on the dirty floor of her jail cell. Nausea bubbled up her throat and she began to violently dry heave. Curled on her side, clad in nothing, the cold stone floor grated irritably against her bare skin as she convulsed. Dozens of small, sharp incisors erupted through her gums and she whined like a beaten dog from the pinpricks of pain that announced the arrival of her fangs. Her arms were curled protectively over her stomach but her touch gave her no relief – she was not suffering from a mere stomachache like a child who had eaten one too many sweets.

The bloodlust was upon her.

She had been in this prison for days at least, tossed in after the Alpha vampire had mercilessly bitten her. Lenore had thought that she would be fine – after all, in Sunnydale there was a ‘whole big sucking thing’, according to Buffy, that began a vampiric transformation. Sadly, she was wrong. These demons could infect with a mere bite and the change had taken Lenore swiftly.

At first her senses increased – she could easily hear her guards discussing someone named ‘Aurelius’ all the way past her cell walls and down the hall. Then her eyes were able to focus steadily in the pitch black darkness of her cell, allowing her to see the spider that made a corner of the ceiling its home and the splatters of blood against the wall. Then she had been able to smell the tangy scent of dried blood most acutely, and her fangs had sprung from her gums – most unlike the Sunnydale vampires.

Since then she had fallen into madness.

Her captors, the two olive-skinned vampires who guarded her cell, had repeatedly tried to offer her food but she had vigorously denied. The scent of fresh blood had been tempting, oh god ever so tempting, but there was no way that Lenore would bite into the live bodies that they were providing.

She would not be a killer.

Her strong will was strengthened by memories of her past life as Tara. She had known two vampires that lived off animal blood, Angel and Spike, and she was determined that she would do the same. Of course, her real reason for not feeding on humans was her Willow. It would sicken her former lover to think that Lenore had killed humans and therefore she would abstain from their blood.

Because now, even as so many aspects of her life lay shrouded in shadows, a beacon of hope had emerged for Lenore. While she mourned the loss of her humanity and despised her weakness for blood, she realized that God – in a very twisted way – had given her a chance to see her Willow again.

Had Lenore remained human she would have died, probably in thirty years or so if she were lucky, and never met Willow until perhaps the afterlife. But now? Now Lenore was immortal. She could – and would – live until the year 2003. At the moment of her – Tara’s – death, Lenore would swoop in and show Willow that, in a way, she was still alive. They could be together again!

It was that one hope that kept her sanity intact and kept the bloodlust at bay.



Unknown location,
August 2, 1701


Lenore faintly heard the scrapes of footsteps over the stone floor but she didn’t have the energy to turn her head to see who had arrived. Her body lay prostrate on the floor, sprawled face-up in the middle of her cell. As before she was still nude and malnourished but now her body was weakening to the point of death. Her dehydrated skin had tightened around her bones until she resembled a skeleton. She could feel her cells feeding off her own body in an attempt to provide enough nutrients to survive. Each time she moved it was painful, as if her body was shouting in anger at her foolishness to take human blood, to take a life.

But Lenore wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Not only would Willow hate her but she would hate herself. After fighting monsters for so long she refused to become one herself.

Yet…there was a small part of her…a part that grew more insistent with each day of bloodlust…that said it would be okay. That maybe she could just kill the evil humans, if nothing else. Because…she could feel it…she would die if she didn’t feed. And if she died, she would never see Willow again.

Her mind was decaying further with each moment of hunger that she had. Sometimes she was coherent. Other times she was not. Her world was fiery hot pain that felt as if she had plunged into the depths of an active volcano and began drowning in the molten, churning lava. She didn’t know which way was up or which was down, just that she was lost in the pain.

“Lenore,” a low, almost gentlemanly voice said in a chiding tone. “I left to ensure that angel of yours could not follow us and now that I’ve returned I’ve been told that you refuse to feed.”

Lenore wanted to speak, to tell the Alpha to drop dead, but she knew it was useless. Her tongue was drier than sand, and tasted like it to. However, she did manage one grunt of anger to answer him with.

The Alpha made a soft humming noise as if he was analyzing her. “I felt you try to use magic to get out of your new home in the beginning, you know. Did you wonder why it did not work?”

Why yes, she did. Lenore had been perplexed that she had been unable to access her magic. However, she wasn’t telling him that…even if she could speak.

“I am your Maker, and not just your Maker but the Alpha of all vampires. I have a psychic connection with each of my children, you know. It is very simple to hide that magic from you.” She could hear the smile in his voice. God, how she hated him.

“Now, my dear, I need you to feed,” he sighed as his voice sounded closer to her…almost as if it were in her very mind. “The transformation will only be complete if you feed, otherwise you will die soon.”

Good. Let her die.

Wait, did she mean that? But what about Willow?

Well, what about her? Willow had tried to control her, just like the angels had. She couldn’t be trusted; she didn’t truly love her.

No, she did. Willow was her true love, her sun. Tara revolved around her.

Except she wasn’t Tara. Not really. She was Lenore. And Lenore had never met her. Lenore couldn’t eat a person just so that she could meet Willow in three-hundred years. Imagine all those people that Lenore the Vampire would need to eat in the meantime.

But…you only need to eat one person. Then you can do the pig’s blood deal like Angel and Spike.

And if she lived? Would Willow even want Lenore? Would she still love her even if she were a demon? No one wanted Buffy to date Angel or even date Spike…would they want Willow to date her? No, Lenore was no longer worthy for Willow.

But Willow loved her madly. She would still love her. Hell, Willow had dated a werewolf!

A fresh scent wafted under Lenore’s nose and she sniffed several times. Oh god. Another human. It smelled delectable. Her fangs shot out of her gums forcefully and saliva swelled in her mouth. It was so strange how the scent of human blood could make Lenore so hungry – it was sweeter than the smell of freshly iced cake and she instinctively knew that it would be thicker than wine and fall smoothly down her throat, coating her insides with pleasure and ecstasy and god, the smell was so good and would it really be so bad if she were to bite?

“My Lady!” an aghast voice called out, her shrill voice hurting Lenore’s sensitive ears. “Are you alright? I’ve been kept prisoner since that night but I had no idea you were here as well until the man took me down here. He said that I had to take care of you, that you were sick. Are you alright, my Lady? What can I do for you?”

Lenore did not need to open her eyes to know who was now clutching her hand tightly. She knew Magdalene’s voice well, but now she realized what a deliciously soft voice the girl had. And she babbled! How very Willow of her…

Her head was in the servant girl’s lap and Lenore felt a salty tear drop onto her forehead. “Oh Jesus, my Lady. Please tell me you’re alive. Wake up!” she commanded through a tear-soaked voice as she gently shook Lenore.

Unfortunately, she shaking was awaking her, alright…awakening her primal response. She wanted to lunge at the girl and rip her neck open and lap up the blood with her tongue and then cover herself with the life-giving liquid…

Lenore opened her eyes and used all of her resources to rasp out, “Leave!”

Magdalene’s pretty green eyes – a pale jade unlike Willow’s darker shade – widened in surprise. “Not without you, my lady. I swore to serve the family of Summerford Manor. I shan’t leave you.”

Now Magdalene was laying Lenore gently on the floor and took off her overshirt so that Lenore would have a pillow. God, Lenore wanted her to leave. The scent was…intoxicating. She tried to call upon one of the meditations that she had been using since her capture but nothing came to her mind but the sweet smell of blood.

Her servant bent low over her and gently cupped Lenore’s cheek. “My Lady, tell me what I can do for you.”

Lenore’s eyelids fluttered open and when she breathed the full scent of Magdalene’s life filled her nostrils and slid heavily down her throat. The girl’s face was only a few inches from her own, looking at her with such a caring face, and Lenore found her bony hand creeping up to slide behind the girl’s neck. Magdalene was so sweet, so caring; gentle as a lamb.

But lambs were meant to be eaten and by God Lenore was so hungry and her stomach convulsed at the sweet temptation of a meal and her mouth filled with the scent and she just knew that it would be so warm and Lenore was so cold and she needed that warmth, needed it more than anything she had ever needed before. More than her children, more than Willow. It was a Need. Ancient. Primal.

Her hand moved of its own accord and slammed Magdalene down with an unknown strength. The girl’s neck rested in front of Lenore’s face and she savagely bit in. Distantly she heard screaming but the blood – oh God the Blood! – filled her with such undulating waves of ecstasy that Lenore’s mind was carried out of that room and someplace else. She saw wild plains with thick grass that could hide a predator. Animals roamed free and small fires burned vividly under a star-filled night. Huddled around the fire were humans, simple barbaric creatures who glanced suspiciously into the darkness behind them, knowing that she was there but praying to whatever deity they believed in that they would be saved. But while they were praying she was preying and she snatched the largest human away from the safety of the village and fed with gluttony like a savage animal. Yes, she despised these humans but they were of use to her.

They were food.



Lair of the Order of Aurelius
Belfast, Ireland
February 3, 1702



Bloated with human blood, Lenore sank down onto the bed that she shared with Aurelius. The sun was high in the sky and while it did not affect her kind, it still weakened them. Luckily their home was underground and thus far away from the sun. Thick tapestries depicting demons and human sacrifices colorfully decorated the walls of their twenty by thirty foot richly decorated bedroom, plus they insulated the wall and kept her warm. Although she was still a living, heart-beating being unlike the half-breed vampires, she often found herself colder than others. If a human’s temperature was ninety-eight point six degrees than her kind was likely two degrees cooler. Imperceptible to most, but not to a supernatural being.

That was just one of the changes in her life now. The others were that Lenore was strong, very strong, and incredibly fast, especially after a feeding. Her senses were excellent. Unlike the other half-breed vampires that were common in this world, she did not require an invitation to enter a house, was not allergic to crosses, and was incredibly hard to kill (only a beheading would be sufficient). However, she had a new weakness – dead man’s blood. If she drank the blood of a dead man she would severely weaken, if left alone she would be easy for even a human to kill.

Lenore pulled the covers over her head and yawned as she began to feel the drowsiness of the day take hold of her. While she could go for days without sleeping if she needed to it was preferable that she sleep at least four hours a day, or seven if she had time.

The door clicked open and she realized that Aurelius had entered. Automatically her limbs stiffened and she prayed that he would leave. Hadn’t he done enough to her for one day?

“Lenore,” his voice murmured softly as he lightly stroked her thigh. “Have you had any visions recently?” The voice of the Alpha Vampire was cultured and smooth, so unlike what she had heard the day she was attacked.

Lenore yanked the covers off her head and shot him a heated glare. “Not since the one about the Anointed One last month,” she snapped irritably.

Aurelius, also known as the Alpha of their kind, thirsted for all the knowledge that he knew she could bring him. Quickly after her transformation in August he had set about coaxing prophecies out of her. At first she had refused because she did not want to give him any information that could harm Buffy or the others, but then she realized that she could truthfully (because he could always smell a lie) tell him prophecies in a way that would not hurt Buffy.

So she began by telling him of the Master vampire who will claim his seat on the Mouth of Hell and recently she told him of the Anointed One. Of course, she was careful to pretend that they were random prophecies and not figments of her past life – that would result in Aurelius torturing her to get ever last drop of information out of her. At the same time, she also had to be cautious to space her prophecies out; if she ran out then he may have her killed.

Not that a part of her didn’t want to die already, though.

Each night Aurelius or one of his cronies forced human blood down her throat against her will; not since Lenore’s ruthless and crazed murder of Magdalene had she harmed another of her own free will. It disgusted her, this monstrous behavior. But worse, she was disgusted by her own weakness – that she loved the taste of the blood. It didn’t make her ill, it made her feel fabulous. It was only afterwards, seeped in guilt, that she felt sick about her actions.

Once again, it was only the hope that she would someday break out of here and see Willow that kept Lenore going. If only Aurelius had not used his mind control - why must this be Lenore’s Achilles’ Heal constantly?! – then maybe she would be able to access her magic and escape. Unfortunately, she was powerless. Without magic she was just another fledgling vampire and no match for any of the guards here or, especially, Aurelius himself.

Speaking of which, the Alpha vampire sighed heavily as he tore the quilt off of her and began stroking the lines of her body in a seductive manner. “Come now, Lenore. Surely you are powerful. The angel would not have been sent to watch over you otherwise. Tell me, what do you see?”

Lenore shrank away from him. From an objective perspective, one could consider Aurelius lovely to look at – he was powerfully built with thick curvaceous lips and dark lustrous skin that shined brilliantly under candle light – but his presence sickened Lenore. He had claimed her to be his mistress – not his mate, however, since vampires mated for life and thank God she wasn’t going to be stuck with him for that long – quickly after she had transformed and now spent almost every night he was at the Lair with her.

It was like Connor O’Neil all over again. As with her husband she was forced – and Aurelius beat if she didn’t – perform ‘wifely duties’. Just as Elspeth’s tarot reading had shown, the Devil had a chain around her neck and she was his slave in all ways.

Aurelius began fondling her right breast and when she tried to jerk away his eyes lit up as he twisted to keep her still. “Lenore, really,” he scoffed. As if she a fool to continue to struggle against him.

She knew it was coming and that she wasn’t strong enough to fight back. Therefore, she resorted to a card up her sleeve.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she began convulsing violently on the bed – imitating the perfect prophecy so the bastard would leave her damn well alone.



Lair of the Order of Aurelius
Belfast, Ireland
September 3, 1703


Their underground cavern was lit with blazing torches that were adhered to the wall. The shadows of forty vampires – five who were half-breeds and the others who were like her – played along the stone walls. At the far end of the circular room sat a mighty throne carved out of granite and polished until it shimmered faintly under the firelight. It was as silent as a graveyard – a graveyard during a hunt but not after, of course. Vampires could be sloppy eaters and rather noisy.

“Who is it that seeks an audience with me?” Aurelius called out in a formal tone.

“It is I, your most loyal and humble servant, my Lord. I come to bring you goods from America, the new land,” a man with a rough voice spoke reverently as he bowed before the Alpha vampire. Behind him a small blond vampire, a hulking blond vampire, and two dark-haired male vampires bowed their heads respectfully.

“Arise, Heinrich,” Aurelius boomed with a carefree gesture. “Tell me, what riches lie in the colonies?”

Heinrich stood up and Lenore, standing to Aurelius’ left side, frowned in distaste. The vampire possessed a terrible visage to behold – his skin was wrinkled and pale with pointed ears sticking out of his bald head. Without a doubt she knew this man had to be the Master that she had heard so much about.

“A new world full to people to eat,” Heinrich grinned widely, showcasing his sharp teeth, as everyone laughed. “They have a different breed of humans there called ‘Indians’ that have thick honey-like blood that runs hot. I brought several of them for you to enjoy, my Lord,” he said with another bow of his head.

Aurelius smiled wickedly and clapped his hands twice. “Excellent, Heinrich. As always, you are a shining star among the half-breeds that plague this earth. I wish that others would share your passion for order and servitude towards serving the Old Ones.”

In response the other vampire just bowed his head in thanks.

“Now, who are the other members of your party?”

Heinrich introduced them to be James, Ewan, Luke, and…Darla? Lenore began coughing as the vampire-soon-to-be-known-as-the-Master introduced Angel’s future sire and the known madwoman. Aurelius threw her a glare so she quickly recovered from her surprise and then watched the new group closely.

In the last year or so she had quickly learned that Aurelius was not only the Alpha vampire for all of their demonic breed, but a politician or regal figure of some sort to all half-breeds as well. Most of their kind looked down at the half-breeds who were often stupid and easy to kill, but with some powerful ones Aurelius embraced their existence. No one had directly told Lenore, but she had figured it out – their breed was dying off. It was getting harder to hide from humans and their numbers had never been large to begin with. But the half-breeds, although weak, expanded like guppies throughout the world. Their numbers were great and thus Aurelius made sure to form partnerships that world benefit him, and his kind.

Once the tiresome display of sucking up was over with, Aurelius began to tell Heinrich his own news – news that he was quite excited about and that she unfortunately had a part to play in it.

“Lenore, step forward and bring the book,” Aurelius ordered with a superior flick of his hand.

Lenore followed orders from this bastard only because there was no other option – not even death because Aurelius would never let his pet prophetess leave him. She presented the book to Heinrich, who accepted it reverently.

“This book contains my writings and the prophecies of Lenore, Heinrich. I give it to you as a gift in honor of your servitude and hope that it will serve you well,” Aurelius explained.

Heinrich smiled and Lenore shrank back from the sight of his fangs protruding over his non-existent lips. “Thank you, my Lord.” He cast a sidelong look at Lenore and then looked back to his master. “I had heard that you acquired a prophetess, my Lord. May I offer my congratulations at such a fine acquisition?”

Aurelius leaned forward and smiled broadly and his clawed fingers clung to the sides of his exquisitely carved throne. “You may. Thank you, Heinrich. Yes, she was a marvelous find – a true Prophetess of the Lord,” he smirked. “You should have seen the angel’s face right before we stole her from him and expelled him back to Heaven.”

The entire room began laughing but Lenore remained silent; her tensed shoulders were the only sign that she found their so-called master’s words distasteful. She swore that she would get her revenge on this beast one day.



Lair of the Order of Aurelius
Belfast, Ireland
September 4, 1703


Almost the entire Order was out hunting at the moment, which was an unusual circumstance. Typically only a few vampires hunted for all of them a night, much like packs of lions operated, but tonight Aurelius wanted to celebrate Heinrich’s last night in Belfast before the twisted-looking vampire took his flock to recruit in Eastern Europe. Therefore the only occupants of the lair were Lenore and two guards to watch over her – Aurelius, of course, did not trust that she wouldn’t try to escape.

Lenore had, actually, attempted to escape half a dozen times already in the last two years or so but each attempt had failed. Due to the psychic connection that Aurelius had with their entire breed, since he was the Alpha, he could easily find them if he desired, in addition to being able to suppress her magic. She was sure that there had to be a way to sever the connection between her Maker but she had yet to discover it. Even if she did discover it she knew that magic would be involved and without her ability to tap into the earth’s magic she would have no way to work the severing spell.

It was indeed a conundrum.

Lenore settled comfortably at the desk in her shared room with Aurelius – although she despised the creature she was pleased to at least have her own private room when he wasn’t around, unlike everyone else who shared two large rooms with beds of straw. Pulling out her sketchbook she began sketching Willow’s face just to pass the time. Thus far she had filled dozens of sketchbooks of Willow drawings; it was her only solace here. As time went on a sweet smell filled her nostrils – she smelled honey cakes. Perplexed she stood up from her desk and sniffed carefully. Aurelius did not allow the other vampires any human examples of decadence (even if he very hypocritically kept some for himself) and no vampire would have brought human sweets into the lair. What was it?

Her nose led her to the nightstand on her side of the bed. Curiously, she pulled open the single drawer and peered inside in surprise. Typically she did not keep anything in here but suddenly there were several items. Glancing suspiciously about, Lenore carefully pulled the drawer out and set it on her bed. Cautiously she pulled out each item and inspected it – there was a vial of blood, a dried Forget-Me-Not flower, several bags of herbs, and a small dagger no larger than a letter opener that bore the etchings of strange geometric symbols on the blade. Underneath all of this was a piece of paper that looked as if it had been torn out of a blank sketchbook in a hurry.


Lenore,

If you want to escape, drug Aurelius with the Dead Man’s Blood. This will weaken him severely, as it is hundreds of years old, and he will lose his hold over suppressing your magic. Then, complete this spell. It will sever your connection to him and free you from his hold.

After that, run like hell.


The note was unsigned but did carry instructions for the spell. However, the dried flower was not a spell ingredient, although the herbs and the dagger were. A ghost of a smile graced Lenore’s face as she realized that the Forget-Me-Not was there to tell her the identity of her mysterious benefactor – Loki. After he had left her home three years ago – well, after she kicked him out – she had begun to feel a good deal of guilt for the way she had treated him. He had, in the end, helped her recover her memory. Even more so, he had given her the *choice* of deciding when to have her memories recovered, unlike the angels who had her on a ‘schedule’.

Then again, if she had been on a schedule then an archangel would have been her guardian angel and she wouldn’t be in her current mess anyways.

Ah, well. Fate was a tricky thing.

Lenore memorized the spell direction and prepared the ingredients in a bowl. Then she waited.



Lair of the Order of Aurelius
Belfast, Ireland
September 5, 1703


It was three in the morning and several hours had passed since the Order had gone hunting. Lenore had been waiting patiently, covering her unease with sketching, and was in the bedroom when Aurelius entered.

“Lenore, my little Prophetess,” he smiled widely, proudly displaying his bloody teeth. “Have you missed me?”

Lenore cleared her mind of anything having to do with escape and shot back a quick retort. “No.”

Laughter rumbled from deep in his belly as he approached her from behind and squeezed her upper arms. “You are young. Over time your silly sense of remorse will expire and you will truly become one of us.”

“Release me, sir,” she growled lowly as she set down her pencil.

Instead Aurelius plucked her up and tossed her onto the bed with great force. Quickly he climbed above her and tore off her threadbare top – the Order did not believe in wearing designer clothes and instead they all dressed worse than peasants. Lenore took in a shaky breath and struggled beneath him as he then whipped off his shirt and pants.

“Lenore,” he spoke in a gruff voice as he ripped off the rest of her clothes. “You know you enjoy this.”

Tears came to her eyes. She knew she had to leave and had the means to leave, but this moment wasn’t right. She had to wait until he was completely unaware – Aurelius was too powerful to trick otherwise. “No, I don’t!” she whimpered as he entered her roughly.

Aurelius, ever taking joy in taking her whenever he desired, threw his head back and laughed deeply as he clutched her hips in a tight vise. “I do. There is nothing like taking a Servant of the Lord and making them my whore.”

Fury washed over her and she became filled with a different sort of bloodlust – one to murder and not to feed. As Aurelius began to pick up speed her hand slid underneath her pillow in a show of steadying herself, but instead she grasped something metallic and cold. Finally, Aurelius let out a satisfied grunt and as he began to collapse upon her, her new dagger caught him in the heart. Her Maker let out a short cry of pain, but it was nothing that his servants would notice since they assumed that the Alpha was raping her again.

Lenore quickly shoved him off of her and twisted the blood-coated dagger inside his chest. She was tempted to kill him but he was powerful and she didn’t know how much longer she had before the Dead Man’s blood wore off.

“Len…what did you…do?” he rasped, his breath bubbling up with blood.

“Interesting to see that even the Alpha vampire is affected by Dead Man’s Blood – especially when it’s shoved directly into your heart,” she smiled coldly at him before retrieving her spell ingredients.

“You…bitch,” he spat weakly.

Lenore growled lightly and cut her wrist with her fingernail in order to drip blood into the bowl. Then she ripped open Aurelius’ forearm – in the exact same spot that he had cut her two years ago – and stole blood to pour into the bowl as well. With the dagger that was now dripping with Dead Man’s Blood and her Maker’s blood, she stirred the substances together.

Lenore summoned all of her power and magic just then and broke out into tears of happiness when she realized that it was no longer suppressed by the Alpha’s dark magic. Finally, finally she felt whole – her magic was a part of her again. Aurelius tried to say something to her but she silenced him by doing a quick spell to sew his lips shut. His eyes bulged in fright; he knew that she was reclaiming her power.

Focusing on the bowl in front of her, Lenore began to chant the spell that Loki had given to her.

"With blood of the Maker and blood of the Servant,
Sever the Child from the Parent.

Two become one, one becomes two,
Sever them without issue."

After repeating the chant twenty-six times – one for each month she had been bound to him – the ingredients in the bowl lit with a bright blue fire. Lenore backed up in surprise and then had the peculiar sensation of an egg cracking over her and covering her in metaphysical protection. The ties to Aurelius that she had always felt in the back of her mind now vanished and for the first time in over two years Lenore let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m free,” she whispered softly.

“Not-for-long,” Aurelius grunted as he stood unsteadily to his feet.

“I’m not afraid of you anymore,” she sneered at him. “In fact, I’m going to kill you,” she added matter-of-factly as she summoned her magic to encompass her.

The door burst open in a terrifying display of splinters and revealed at least a dozen of her vampire vampires, including Darla. Damn. He must have had the strength to summon them all her psychically.

“Did you really think that Dead Man’s Blood would hold me for long, little Prophetess?” he chuckled darkly. “I am the beginning…and I am your end.”

He leapt for her but she threw a blazing fireball at him, forcing him to be pushed back hard against the wall. Then she concentrated to extract a smaller ball of fire from the original and plowed through the row of waiting vampires in the doorway. Without hesitation she ran through the now-open pathway, past the screaming and burning demons, and began to make her way through the maze of underground caverns.

Lenore was soon panting, and it wasn’t from the effort of running. She had not used magic in a very long time and doing two powerful spells – the severing spell and the fireball spell – in a row had taken a great deal out of her. However, she didn’t have a choice; it was either that or die. Hopefully that fireball would effectively pin Aurelius to the wall long enough for her to leave but she still had to deal with the now thirty vampires searching for her.

When encountering some of them she dealt physical blows, in an attempt to store up her magic, but with others (like the Master) she had no choice but to use magic. The upkeep of her fire spells were tiring and her body was feeling sluggish but she kept running and running until she finally reached the stairs that led her out of the hellhole. As soon as she climbed up she breathed the fresh air in deeply and scanned her surroundings. She was in a forest surrounded by thick, tall trees – excellent. Lenore performed a successful severing charm that caused a nearby tree to collapse onto the entrance of the Order’s lair.

For the first time in years she laughed– she may just make it out of this ordeal alive.



A/N:

First, full credit goes to AllenPitt for suggesting that the Alpha = Aurelius in order to better tie in some things. He’s been feeding my muse like crazy through reviews & e-mails so I most heartily thank him and his twisted, delightful mind! :D

Second, this chapter was dark and creepy to write, especially when the bloodlust had taken hold of Lenore, but it was oddly one of my favorites to write (I ‘spose I’m a bit twisted. Hee.). Please let me know what you think!

Comments

( Those Who Hollered — Holler! )
(Anonymous)
Dec. 9th, 2010 06:30 am (UTC)
a fan
i'm so glad for this new chapter. i really enjoy reading this. i'm happy for you that you have someone to brainstorm the plot fic with. :)
aw, loki help lenore, that is so nice of him... i can't wait willow's reaction of meeting lenore. wait, does lenore has a soul then like angel and spike?
please update as soon as you can. i hope the burden of your daily work lessened just enough for you to write all the fic that you want to write especially the anyankaloki thing. :p
bless you.
( Those Who Hollered — Holler! )

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