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Disclaimer: All BTVS characters belong to Joss Whedon and the WB network. Ones of my own creation are as follows: Stefanie, Ivory, Venus, Tessa, and Lorenzo.
Author's Notes: This story is a direct sequel to Obscure Prophecies, so I would recommend you read that one first in order for this one to make sense. To avoid any confusion, it opens on the same night the last story ended, only an hour or so later. And now, on with the show...
Prologue
It was approaching one in the morning in the small town of Sunnydale, a time when people were usually asleep at home or working the night shift at their respective jobs. But in a moment that the streets should be virtually empty, one pretty teenage girl could be seen walking through the shadows by the cemetery.
She moved with a stride that was calm and collected, but the look in her eyes told otherwise. A fire seemed to burn deep within the blue depths, suggesting that she had perhaps just come from a heated argument with a boyfriend or parent.
After a while, the girl stopped with a deep sigh, going to sit on the curb. She wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm, then casually reached into her purse, maybe for a pack of gum or cigarettes.
The vampire hovering behind her didn't care which, just knew he was hungry and she had the worst luck being out this late. He inched closer so as to not alert her to his presence, watching as she stretched her arms over her head.
The vampire barely knew what hit him as her hands wrapped around the lapels of his jacket and pulled him forward. He was flipped over her head and landed heavily on his back on the pavement. Before he could regain his senses, the girl had already wrapped one arm around his throat in a choke-hold.
With a triumphant smile, Stefanie leaned forward. "Are you careless or just stupid?" she quipped. "Or is it just a given that all vampires fall for the helpless girl routine?"
He turned his head slightly to look at her, realizing too late that she was the vampire\slayer he had been warned to avoid. "You're a clever one, aren't you?" he growled.
Stefanie smirked. "You have no idea," she said. "Now, if you'd just be kind enough to tell me where I could find mistress Tessa's lair, I'll let you go."
He wouldn't have answered but that he noticed she was uncorking a bottle of holy water. Wanting to avoid the discomfort it would surely bring, he answered, "The warehouse, about three or four blocks from that night club, the Bronze."
Stefanie hesitated a moment. "I'll tell you what. I'm in a favorable mood. So I'll give you a fair fight," she said, letting him up. Standing, she delivered a roundhouse kick to his lower back, producing the wooden stake she had kept hidden until that moment. But, before Stefanie could get another punch in, he had already swiped his claws across her outstretched arm.
Stefanie roared in pain, her face morphing into the same visage her adversary wore. After a few moments of fighting, she managed to plunge the stake into his chest, watching as his dusty remains scattered in the night wind.
Stefanie rubbed at her eyes with both palms, smiling slightly, then turned away from her newest conquest, making her way home. As she walked, she examined the cuts on her arm, concerned with the fact that they weren't healing as fast as they should. It was the latest in a series of symptoms that were connected to her sudden strange illness.
As she eventually entered the apartment building that was to be her new home, Stefanie knew she had a lot of preparing to do for the next few days. But, for the sake of her many friends, she was up to the challenge...