Hello, readers!

Thank you to all who read, reviewed, and enjoyed this story! I swore I would take a break from the Buffyverse, and I did… years. Definitely longer than I'd originally anticipated. But almost as soon as "No Deliverance" concluded, I began to outline the sequel. So, this has been in the works for a loooooong time.

I've included a preview of the sequel here. If you'd like to read more, please visit my page and select the story entitled "Delivered Unto Evil." The first chapter is up, now, and I will be aiming to post a new chapter weekly, until it is complete.

Cheers!

Jenn

As much as she repressed it, Buffy felt the strain of having Riley around her every minute that she wasn't in class. He was just as sweet and considerate as ever. A true gentleman. He adored her, and she loved…being adored.

On this particular night, she awoke in the darkness and looked over at her boyfriend. He was fast asleep, still naked from their love-making. She, however, was restless. Stealthily, she slid out from under the covers, dressed herself, and snuck out of her room.

A little patrolling, a good kill, and back to bed, she thought happily. She was just antsy. A fight-to-the-death would help release the pent-up energy in her bones.

She walked around one of Sunnydale's many cemeteries and willed a thing of evil to confront her.

"Here, vampy, vampy, vampy!" she called out mockingly. She looked around, but she saw no bodies, dead or alive. She sighed and kept trudging through the plots.

There had been a strangely fierce storm earlier. Lightning and thunder, rainfall, and high winds were not often seen in California in September. The rain-soaked earth squished under her feet, and the Slayer frowned when she realized a fight could get her covered in mud.

I'll just have to win quickly and avoid falling down. Shouldn't be a problem.

"Oh, no! I am lost and alone! And my poor heart is beating so fast…I hope I'll make it home safe!"

Nothing.

Wow, am I losing my touch? Did I lay on the victim-speak too much?

She glanced out into the night one last time. She had been out for over an hour, she was sure of it.

As she turned to leave, she almost ran right into a man.

No, not a man.

He had a pale, solemn face, sharply angled and handsome. His shoulder-length hair was black as night, as was the majority of his very formal wardrobe, save for the crimson dress shirt under his vest. He looked through Buffy's eyes as if he saw into her soul.

Buffy braced herself.

"It took you long enough. I was just about to turn in, but I was looking for a fight!"

His smile was unnerving, and it made hers falter.

"We are not going to fight," he stated in a very thick Eastern European accent.

"What did you have in mind, then? Draining me after a game of checkers?" Buffy's taunt didn't seem to affect the vampire in front of her.

"You are more beautiful than what I expected, Buffy Summers." His eyes raked down her body, taking in her petite frame.

"You know who I am?" Buffy wasn't used to being known by name. Only by her colorful moniker of "The Slayer."

"Naturally. Your fame as a Slayer has reached the farthest corners of the earth. That's why I came here. To meet you."

"And you are?"

His expression changed, then. He looked surprised.

"My apologies, I assumed my reputation preceded me." He looked stoic, proud. "I am Dracula."

That was the last thing she expected to hear. She couldn't control her jaw dropping and her eyebrows shooting up in amazement.

"Get out!"