“Speak of the devil and he shall slide out of a trapdoor,” Spike muttered. “Good to see that the Church hasn’t lost its flair for the theatrical.”

Anya felt Andrew and Jonathan inching closer to her again. This time, she let them, feeling equally uneasy. The Master was legendary—in that he was so old that that he was practically a living myth. A vampire so powerful that no one knew his real name. It was said that he was so ancient that he had been created within the first two generations of vampires, closer to an Old One than a human. Even Drusilla cowered at the sight of him, backing away from Darla and behind Willow.

“Master, darling,” Darla said, her perky face reinvigorated as the Master descended the steps toward her. “Did we wake you?’

“The old coot still sleeps during the day?” Angelus snorted, and elbowed Spike in the ribs, gesturing with his thumb in the universal sign for get a load of this guy. Anya wasn’t sure if she was impressed by his fearlessness or worried that he was going to get them all slaughtered. The Master was more than strong enough to kill everyone in the room without breaking a sweat. If vampires could sweat.

“I received a call from the Mayor that I am supposed to show you Hell’s Own Herald,” said the Master. He spoke with a mild lisp, the words fighting to get around his huge fangs. “Although why such a ragtag group should be given a private viewing of a significant relic is beyond even my comprehension.”

“Yeah, well, you’re just the flag’s guardian, not the decision maker, aren’t you?” Angelus scowled.

“Angelus, if you can’t be nice—” Darla warned.

“No, let the boy speak his mind. He’s entitled to his hurt feelings,” the Master said. He lifted Darla’s chin with his sharp nails as though she were an apple he was considering biting into. “After all, he lost the greatest jewel in creation.”

“Actually, the Marnoxon gem was being guarded by some grappler demons when the slayer broke into Arashmaharr,” Anya said.

Darla glared at her, which seemed to be difficult under the weight of her fake lashes. “He was referring to me. Before the Master and I got married, Angelus and I were. . .involved. For a century or two.”

Scandalized, Anya gaped at Angelus. “You dated your vampire mom?”

“It’s very common,” Angelus said defensively. He thrust an accusatory finger at Darla and the Master. “What isn’t common is for your sire to sneak out of the family crypt and then return, married and the leader of a brand-new cult!”

Darla splayed a defensive hand on her chest. “I invited you to join the Church! You declined!”

“You invited me as a friend to come live with your husband!”

“Which I thought was very magnanimous!”

“Bored now,” Willow said with an exaggerated yawn. “Domestic squabbles are so not how I want to spend my eternity. Can we see the flag so we can all go back to our afterlives?”