Reyal's Rellik - Part 5 of 11
Please note: I am updating this fic from the first time I wrote it. If you link out to my memories, you will see a link to "Reyal's Rellik Entire Story".
That one is the original. If you want to continue reading the updated one, the links you want to select are indicated with "Reyal's Rellik - Updated".
http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=married_n_mich&keyword=My+Fics&filter=all
“Phone, Faith,” he tossed the object across the desk, “use it next time.”
That pretty much did it. There was not doubt about it. Angel was pissed.
“You’ve been gone over a week, and I haven’t heard a word from you. All I got were snippets of information from him,” he indicated Spike, “saying that everything was just fine. Then you come in here telling me that you’ve been having dreams of being mutilated by some guy with no face.”
“Angel,” Spike began.
“Shut it, Spike.” His eyes didn’t waver from Faith.
Faith rubbed her hands up across her face and through her hair. “I didn’t think it was anything.”
“You didn’t think it was anything.” Anger dripped from every word.
It was Faith’s turn to get mad. “Listen. I’m here aren’t I? I didn’t want to waste your time if it wasn’t anything. I’d have to be blind not to see you’re up to your baby-browns in shit around this place. I was going to be the last person to add to them. Got it?”
The wind was visibly taken out of Angel’s sails. He sat down behind his desk. “I get it. You’re here now. That’s what’s important. Just promise me something.”
“What?” she asked.
“Next time, use the damn phone.”
Spike filled Angel in on what he knew. Faith told him the rest. Angel didn’t speak, didn’t ask any questions, until they both had finished.
“What did this knife look like?” he asked Faith.
“I don’t know. A knife. A really big one.”
“Faith,” Spike began, “you gotta do better then that, pet.”
Faith paced nervously. “I’ve tried to forget what it looked like and now everyone’s trying to get me to remember.”
In a flash, Spike was next to her, motioning for her to sit. Getting too tired to fight it any longer, Faith cooperated and sat down. Spike settled down next to her and said, “Close your eyes. Focus on the doorway. Not the bloke, just what’s in his hand. That’s it.”
Faith rolled her eyes right before closing them. It didn’t take long before she started remembering the room, lying down, her gaze shifting towards the doorway. Faith felt Spike give her hand a quick squeeze, she had to fight to keep it from becoming a distraction.
“It’s long, maybe sixteen inches altogether. The blade is probably ten inches long and it’s all silver, really shiny. I can see it shining as he’s twirling it in his hand.” She clenched her eyes closed even tighter. “The handle, I can’t see it very well. He keeps flipping it around. It looks old, kind of like the cast iron fences, maybe?” She furrowed her forehead in concentration. “There’s a design on it. The design itself is swirled, there’s a red stone, a green stone, two blue stones and a yellow one. The yellow stone is bigger than the rest.”
“Reyal’s Rellik,” Wesley said walking into the room.
All eyes turned towards him. “The prophecy states that it could bring back an old one.” Wesley must have notied the confusion on all their faces and continued, “An old vampire, one that predates the Master.”
“There isn’t an old one that predates the Master,” Angel debated.
“Who do you think made him?” Wesley supplied.
“Hold off,” Spike said. “What does that have to do with Faith?”
Wesley sat down next to Faith. Speaking directly to her, he said, “He can only be brought back if the conditions are right.”
“What exactly would those be?” she demanded.
Wesley produced his source. “Basically, the Old One can only rise if the Master is dead and if the ‘Marked Slayer’s Blood’ is spilled. Reyal’s Rellik is the name of the weapon that performs the ritual.”
“What mark?” Faith asked, her voice rising. “I don’t have any mark!”
“That mark,” Wesley said, pushing Faith’s hair back and lightly touching the scar on her neck.
Angel bolted upright. “What does that have to do with any of this?”
“Darla was a direct descendent of the Master. She sired you Angel. That connects you to the Old One,” Wesley offered.
“You’re sitting here telling me that Faith’s life is in danger because…” he paused, not sure how to continue.
“Yes, among the other things,” Wesley said lowering his eyes.
“Well, that doesn’t make any bleeding sense,” Spike interjected.
“Why me?” Faith asked. “Why not B? She has the same frickin’ mark!”
“She’s died. Twice, to be exact,” Wesley explained. “That in itself took her out of the running. Kendra didn’t bear the mark. You do. In all actuality, you are the current Slayer.”
Faith was irritated. “I’m not the current Slayer. I’m one of thousands. That should kill off any old prophecy. The rules have changed Wesley; one in every generation no longer applies!”
“I’m sorry Faith, but technically you were the last Slayer that was truly called.”
“What now?” Spike asked.
“We need to find him before he finds Faith,” Angel stated. “As of right now, Faith is not to be left alone. Either Spike or I will be with her at all times.” Looking at Faith. “I mean all times. Got it?”
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Angel insisted that Faith rest. He directed her to his apartment and told her to say there.
“You’ll be safe here. No one gets in or out. There’s stuff I need to do,” Angel said, walking away. “Spike is on his way up to stay with you. I meant it when I said you’re not to be left alone.”
Faith nodded. “I get it and I’m sorry.” She sensed Angel’s confusion. “What I said back there, about Buffy. I didn’t mean it. I owe you a lot and you didn’t deserve that.”
“Faith,” Angel began, “apology not necessary. Just promise me one thing and stay alive.” He turned to leave.
“Angel,” Faith called.
He glanced at her over his shoulder.
“Thanks for…” She searched for the right words. “Just, thanks.”
“Sure,” he said. “That’s what I’m here for. Champion and all that.”
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When Spike arrived, Faith was standing by the window looking out at the city. Without turning, she said, “I don’t get it. What is it with all this prophecy crap? How did some guy know hundreds of years ago that I’d be here in this place right now? How’d he know that I’d have some stupid mark? None of it ever makes sense.”
“Prophecies are tricky things, love,” Spike said, moving to stand beside her. “Buffy was proof of that.”
“What am I supposed to do? What now? Just wait for some whacked out vampire to come get me for this ritual? I’m not going to stand around and wait to see what happens,” she said, finally looking at him. “I need to hunt. I need to find this guy before he finds me.”
“Not going to happen. You might make it past me, but you won’t make it out of this building, not without Angel stopping you. Don’t even think about it,” Spike said. “It’s not worth it.”
“Now,” he said, walking toward the bed and pulling back the covers, “is the time for Slayers to rest.”
“That’ll happen,” she said looking towards the bed. “Little too wound up at the moment.”
“Then just sit.” Spike removed his duster and tossed it on a chair. He motioned for Faith’s hands. “Come here,” he said. Faith, not wanting to fight about it, took his hand as he guided her toward the bed. “Down,” he said and Faith sat down.
Spike grabbed the chair and pulled it to the side of the bed. “You can’t sleep but you can rest. I’ll be right here. Now lay down.”
“When did you get so bossy?” she asked, finally lying down.
“I’m only bossy when it comes to certain Slayers who have a habit of not listening when their lives are in danger,” he replied, putting his feet up on the edge of the bed. “It’s been known to work pretty well… on occasion,” he added, smiling.
“I bet it has,” Faith said, rolling over, knowing she wasn’t going to sleep, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.
If Faith would've thought about it, she would've been somewhat surprised. Not only had she turned her back on a vampire, she was going to try and sleep with one in the same room as her...
Times change or what?
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