Taste of Honey

Title: Taste of Honey
Author: Tiana
Rating: R for swearing, violence, sexual references
Summary: Ian is a vampire in Washington, D.C. He finds the Slayer of the day there around 1988.
Disclaimer:I don't own any of the concepts of the Jossverse, but I am borrowing the idea of the Slayer and vampires from there.




Only a fool would have looked for her on purpose. And I’ve been called many things in the last couple decades, but fool is not one of them. Evil. Bloodsucker. Demon. Devil. Crazy motherfucker. But not a fool. I’d been on my own for about five years when I first heard the word Slayer. I remember it well. Some rumors were floating that there was a girl chosen to kill vampires. One girl. I had to laugh. There are thousands...maybe millions of us. What possible good could one little girl do against those odds? Plus, so easy to stay out of her way. I’ve got a whole planet to feast on and all I have to do is stay out of her city.

One problem, though. She seemed to have set up camp in my hometown. My city. D.C.

I’ve been away for awhile, but I’d like to hit those streets again, slip into some clubs. Dance. Flirt. Have a few bites to eat. There’s nothing like going home again. Hell, I could run into people I went to high school with and kill them. That could be fun. I never attended any of the reunions. I guess they heard I died, but not the living dead part. Actually, I guess they heard my Dad and I went missing. Never found the body kind of story. Oh well. It’s been about thirty years now. I can just see their stunned faces. ‘You haven’t aged a day, Ian! And hey, weren’t you dead or something?’ Yeah, well. Come over here and I’ll tell you a little secret.

So, like I said, I was on my own for about five years when I first heard about this girl. My Dad, who also happened to be my sire, got dusted when some fucked up wino lit him on fire while we slept. We’d been picking these guys off one by one, keeping a low profile after some trouble in Gramercy, and this drunk figured it out. Maybe knowing about vampires is what made him crazy in the first place. Anyway, he knew what to do. I woke up soaked in gasoline just in time to see my old man go up in flames. Luckily, I was fast before I was turned, so now I’m wicked quick. Stupid bum was dead before he hit the ground, but it was too late for Dad. A pile of dust, which I threw in the East River. I left NYC and never looked back. And I thought we would blend in there, fade into the city, kill at will. No such luck.

From what I can tell, it’s pretty weird to have your real Dad around as a vamp. Didn’t meet anyone else who hadn’t pretty much wiped out their whole genetic line when they got vamped. Not my Dad, though. See, he was first. Some muggers jumped he and my Mom in a parking deck. Killed her, turned him. For fun, I guess. When he came to my apartment, blood dried on his neck, smelling like death, I freaked the fuck out. But he didn’t kill me. Told me what happened. He wasn’t totally different, but he sure as hell wasn’t same old Dad, the accountant. Now, he was a killing machine. And the first targets were the street punks who killed Mom. He came to get me. To recruit me or something. Keep his family together. I didn’t have much going for me at the time. Dropped out of college, working a couple jobs. He offered me power and immortal life and all that shit. Hell yeah, I took it. Never liked having a day job, anyway. More of a night owl, and now I am professionally, I guess.

So yeah. Dad turned me. We wiped the streets with those kids, who were so strung out on who knows what, they barely felt it. Dad and I did lots of stuff together growin’ up. Taught me to play guitar. Drove me to soccer games. He was a troublemaker as a kid, before he straightened out and got a real career and family and all that. I could always see it in him just below the button-ups and khakis. Turns out he had to die to bring it all back to the surface. With a fucking vengeance. Best father-son bonding ever.

Other vamps tell me they hated their families. Killed ‘em the second they woke up. I don’t get it. Yeah, I want to tear heads off and rip throats out with the best of ‘em, but I’ve got a bit of love for my family still. At least I would if any of them were left. But I’m on my own now. No brothers or sisters, no parents. Just a fifty year old vampire in the body of a twenty year old. Who needs plastic surgery? Anyway, I still feel like a kid. The years just slide by me like so much water.

But hey, back to this...Slayer. If she had decided to go anywhere else, I would have steered way the hell clear. But D.C.? The place I grew up? No way. I didn’t want her purifying my streets. Killing all the naughty vamps. I’d just have to take her out. How hard could it be? Just one girl.

Stupid fucking question.

I rolled into town in late September. Always loved the way the air smelled in the fall there. Crisp and cool. And now, under that, I could smell the leaves rotting and the flowers dying. Who knew that being a vampire would actually make me more connected with the world? I can smell everything, hear everything. I’m aware of sounds I never knew existed when I was alive. But the first way I found her was scent. I was down in Georgetown, by the canal. Nice and dark there and all the drunk college students make easy targets. The girls mostly think I am hitting on them and they fall all over me before I tear into their soft necks.

I was moving down towards the river, where it is even more dark and deserted, when I picked up a new scent. Mostly I caught the dead fish smell coming up from the Potomac, but then, under it, something sweet. I froze, fell into a shadow like only a vampire can and tried to pick it up. A touch of sweat mixed with...flowers. Something familiar. I frowned and found myself following the scent. Staying to the shadows, but keeping it close. It drew me.

I heard noises. A grunt and a cry of surprise. Then, the bitter taste of ash floated on the breeze towards me. I sneezed. Big mistake. She called out. I ran. And I do mean ran. With the taste of her last kill in my throat.

When I slammed my way into the little rowhouse in Georgetown I had recently acquired by ‘evicting’ its previous tenants, I found myself gasping for breath. And then being incredibly pissed. First of all, I don’t breathe. Second, I ran from her. I’m the vampire. Killer of the innocent, strong and fast and lethal. And I ran. I didn’t go out again that night.

The next night, I went straight for the river again. It must have been the Slayer. No other reason for the voice of a girl in the dark to make me bolt like that. Normally, that’s what draws me near. But I heard her stalk and kill another vamp with such ease. He or she never had a chance. Something tells me there is more to the Slayer than it would seem. More than some girl with a pointy stick. It was a few hours before I caught the scent again. Strong and sweet. It would drive me crazy until I placed it. I moved as silently as I ever have. I saw her clearly once in the sickly green glow of a security light on the back of a building. She moved like a predator, all grace and death on the prowl. I could hear her breathe in the night air.

The fear turned my stomach into a knot. That she might turn on me at any second. I felt slow and clumsy in her presence. I hung back just far enough that she didn’t seem to know I was there. Farther up, I saw her prey. I recognized him as a young vamp named Lew. Thick and slow, but incredibly strong. Think he was a linebacker in high school or something. He didn’t seem to know she was there as he lumbered along. It was like watching a car wreck in slow motion to see her accelerate toward him, one hand snaking into her bag for a stake. She moved like an animal, soundless. At the last minute, she seemed to decide against the easy stake from behind and tackled him. Nice. She liked the fight, not just the kill. I heard Lew grunt in surprise as he landed face first on the street. He rolled over, and she rolled off first, landing on her feet like a cat. I realized I was stuck in place, watching. There was only a bit of light from a nearby streetlamp now, but I could see her a little. Better than a human would be able to, at least.

Smallish, maybe 5’5”. Hair back in a ponytail that whipped around her head like a snake. Dark hair, pale skin. It was about all I could make out. And deadly. I mentioned that, right?

Yeah.

I think that was what did it for me. She was absolutely deadly. Made me so fucking hot. I couldn’t decide what I wanted from her first. Her blood or her body. Maybe both.

She moved around Lew like he was standing still, kicking, punching and finally dropping him like a sack of potatoes. She stood over him, straddling him, her chest rising and falling only slightly faster than when the fight started. I saw her ponytail finally lying still on her back as she stared down into his eyes. Lew didn’t even move. The action of her staking him was so fast, I barely saw him dissolve. Next I knew, she was squatting there over a pile of dust, and her eyes were darting my way. I disappeared as fast as I could. I heard her footfalls, just barely, as she came my way. In a few quick moves, I was on the roofs, heading east. If she followed, I never knew. I never looked back.

After a few nights of this, I had to get closer. But how? I asked questions about the Slayer in my haunts, but every demon and vampire in town flinched, unwilling to talk about her at length. Like she could hear them or something. Called about a year ago, she had been turning the demon hunting grounds into her own personal massacre. Few ventured by the river anymore, I found out. Only because I was new back in town did I miss that memo. As I sat in the latest dive nursing a beer, I was amazed at how the biggest and baddest went a bit paler than usual when I mentioned this girl. Yeah, she looked tough, but damn. These guys weren’t scared easy. Of course, I ran like a scared puppy when she spotted me, so I can’t say much. But the thing that took the cake was what this slick old guy told me. Said he’d been a vamp for something like 90 odd years. Leaned real close ‘til I could really smell the death coming out every pore. To look at him, you’d guess he was 40, but his eyes... I avoided them. Dead. Very dead. Way creepy. So, yeah, this guy did not seem the easily scared type. And the thing he said that had me sitting in that damn bar for an hour, just thinking, was this:

“She loves it. She is death and she loves it.”

And looking back over the kills I’d witnessed, I saw it. There was a certain amount of passion, of drive and...pleasure, in her actions. She liked the surprise staking, but also seemed to like dragging it out. Seeing the fear in the vamp’s eyes, making him cry out, try to escape. ‘Cause yeah, her prey was usually male. And she was tireless. Before the dust cloud had settled, she would head off for another victim. One time I trailed her for three hours and lost count of how many vamps she did in. My belief that she could not match the odds of vamps vs. Slayer was starting to fade. At this rate, she could push us toward extinction.

I checked the clock above the bar. Nearly midnight. I threw back the rest of the beer and headed for the door. Just enough time to grab a young co-ed for dinner and then find her. I was becoming scarily attuned to her scent and it usually took me less than an hour to find her in the city. Why did I look for her? Guess I’m a fool after all. I spent many dark hours in dark alleys trying to understand why I would get so close to this fire. Knowing it could end me. But, damn, what a way to go.

I know. I’m an idiot. Immortal with a death wish? But that wasn’t really it. It was that she was a particular kind of torment. Most girls I could have. They are drawn to me, to my darkness. Even if they are not, I can kill any of them - and their live boyfriends to boot.

But this one. She would kill me in a heartbeat. I have seen her take out vamps twice and three times my age and ability without breaking a sweat. I’m a fucking kid in this world and really, not big on the fighting. I mean, I can kick ass ‘cause I’m all fast and strong, but it’s not my thing. I like getting what I want. The easy way. I’ve gotten used to it. I like getting close to my vic, smelling, tasting, biting. And oh yeah, killing. With her, I can’t get close. She’d dust me before I could figure out her scent. Before I could taste that pale skin.

It’s really goddamn maddening.

So, I watched. After the first few close calls, I started watching her from above when possible. Tops of buildings, bridges. Whatever. I swear she knew I was there a few times. Then that night, after she took out two vamps at once, I saw her smile. A very wicked smile. And then she cut her eyes right up to where I was. I nearly fell off the damn building. She could not possibly see me in the shadow, but she knew I - she knew someone - was there watching. Her eyes dropped and she disappeared into the nearest alley, on to her next victim. I remember, I dropped back and laid on the rooftop, staring up at a cloudy night sky. If my heart was still beating, I knew it would be in my throat right about then. The way she looked up here. It was a threat and a promise in one glance. I was only three stories up and I could see it. Dark eyes, narrowed. Eyebrows drawn down in two fine lines. But her mouth was soft, that smile still playing there. I remember something in school about these women called Sirens who drew men to their death. With singing, I think. She could do it with a look.

Only the tiniest crunch of gravel gave her away. I sat up in a flash and was on my feet a second later. She was only about thirty feet away. All of a sudden, all my senses crashed back over me. The sweet scent of her, the gentle heat of her body. I backed up a step as she took one closer. Another step and I was lit from above by a light on the building next door. She was in the shadows, having just scaled the fire escape on the other side. Without me even hearing her! Damn. I figured my idiot status was going to cost me this sweet deal of living forever.

And then, she did something I did not expect. She talked to me.

“Why?” I couldn’t place the accent. American, sharp around the edges. North, I guess. I realized she asked me a question.

“Uh. What?”

She stepped to the side, moving towards the darker part of the roof. I was frozen in place. “Why are you watching me? I have a Watcher. Don’t really need a dead one, too.”

“You know...you know what I am?” Of course she does. But why the talking? She’s never talked to one of the others.

“Please. Of course I do. Mind answering the question?” My eyes finally registered the stake in her hand. Oh shit.

I glanced behind me. Less than two feet to the edge. I was pretty sure I could do a three story fall and run away from it. Just had to keep her from lunging in that second it would take to get there.

I focused on her, wishing I could see her better. I’d never get this close again. I knew it. Her silhouette was smooth lines, clearly skintight clothes. I could make out the glow of her fair skin in her bare arms and face even in the darkness.

“I...I’d never seen a Slayer before.” That was safely true. I was thinking I’d keep my lust and death fantasies to myself. She was not likely to take kindly.

A few steps in the gravel and she slipped into the edge of the light. We were maybe fifteen feet apart. Her hands were on her hips, stake still in the right. A few strands of her straight jet hair were loose from the ponytail, hanging down the side of her face. Her features were strong, straight lines. All power and fierceness. And the body. Well, again. Good thing I didn’t share those thoughts.

“Now you have.”

“Right. Uh, I should get going then.” I moved one foot back, but she closed within ten feet of me in that split second. “Jesus, you’re so fucking fast.”

“Yeah. Pretty quick yourself, there, Ian.”

What. The. Fuck.

My mouth opened, but no sound. She smirked a little. “Word gets around. Heard you’ve been asking lots of questions. Trying to get into the history books, are you? Off a Slayer?”

“No. No, that wasn’t it.” She seemed slightly put off by my immediate answer. Her eyes narrowed.

“Don’t lie.”

I put my hands up. “I swear, I’m not. I was just...never seen a Slayer before.”

“You mentioned that. If not killing, what do you want?”

Nobody ever called me smart. “A kiss?” I want a kiss? When did I start wanting a kiss? What am I, twelve? She frowned at me and all of a sudden, I did want a kiss. Just a taste. Maybe it would break this goddamn spell. Or I figured she might stake me right then and that would also break this goddamn spell.

Now, I’m the vampire in this equation, but she was the one who could move soundlessly. She had the back of my head in her left hand before I could dive for the street. I felt the stake in her right hand poke gently into my shirt with a warning prick. My body locked up. Her searing warmth was spreading through me where she touched me. Her eyes were inches from mine and I discovered they were light brown. Very odd shade. Almost like...honey.

Strangely, I did not struggle to get away. Maybe this was how she staked every vamp she came across. Just by getting close to them. I could barely remember that I was a strong predator of the night. She made me weak all over. When she spoke again, her breath caressed my cheek with its warmth. The words themselves certainly held nothing but a chill, flat and cold.

“If you cross my path again, I will stake you. You won’t even hear me coming. Got it?”

I stared at her. She’s not staking me this time? Before I could even nod, her mouth was on mine. Lips burning mine with a hard kiss. And then, I was airborne.

Yep, damn Slayer pushed me right off a building. Luckily, I was right. I can fall three stories and still run for it. I scrambled to my feet, gasping in pain at discovering my newly broken ribs and looked up. She was still there, looking down at me. Red flashes of pain filled my vision as I turned away and ran. That was one crazy fucked up girl. Kind of my dream girl, actually. Except for the promise to kill me on sight.

Twenty feet later, it hit me. Finally. The shade of her eyes helped plant the seed in my mind.

Honeysuckle. She smelled like honeysuckle. Just like the bushes that used to grow outside the first house I lived in as a kid. No wonder it was so damn familiar. Used to fill the streets with the scent. Think I’ll call her Honey for short. And from a distance. A long distance.

Haven’t been back to D.C. since.