"Willow?" Asked Giles from behind her. She squealed and turned around to see Giles looking at her. "I didn't mean to startle you, is something the matter?"

"No. Nothing the matter, it's just you weren't here this morning so I came by between class to make sure you were still not here. But I guess you are here, because you're...well, here."

Giles blinked. "Um, yes. I was in the stacks."

"So what happened?"

"Someone returned a book, admittedly a rare event," answered Giles.

"I meant this morning when you were late, like you never are. You know, normally."

"Nothing of great importance, really. Our conversation yesterday reminded me of an old friend I hadn't talked to for awhile, so I telephoned her this morning and lost track of time. Morning is a good time to call due to the time difference."

Willow nodded. She was curious what kind of old friend this woman was, but she couldn't quite work up the nerve to ask directly. "Was she someone in the story you told me?"

"Um, no actually. But that reminds me of another story that...," he put his hand to his chin and looked past her as he started to search through his memory.

"Hey, class. I've got to get to one. You know the whole reason I'm at school thing, so maybe you can tell me later." Another long winded story wasn't what Willow had bargained for with her question, but fortunately she really did have to get to class.

Teresa knocked on the old battered door that was the entrance to Conrad's subbasement flat. An elderly man opened the door, "Good evening Ms. Sinclair, the Master is expecting you."

The elderly man was familiar to Teresa, he was be Jeeves the butler. His real name wasn't actually Jeeves, but that's what Conrad called him. Teresa didn't know if it was a little joke of Conrad's or just part of the vampire's odd personality. She could hear piano music from the parlor, Conrad was playing the Moonlight Sonata. He was always playing the Moonlight Sonata whenever she came to visit.

"Let me take you to him," said Jeeves.

"No need, I know where he is," answered Teresa. She went to the main hallway of Conrad's enormous flat and made her way to the parlor. Conrad sat at his baby grand piano and appeared to be totally absorbed by his playing. The room also held a variety of soft leather furniture, some reproduction paintings of the great masters, a collection of antiques, and was illuminated by an ornate chandelier. Conrad had wanted a candle chandelier but Teresa had talked him into electric.

"Conrad", said Teresa.

Conard held up a hand to indicate she should wait until the muses had released him, but Teresa didn't have time for this nonsense. She walked up the piano and closed the lid firmly on Conrad's hands. The action was reworded by a discordant mashing of keys and a glare from Conrad. He reopened the lid, but didn't continue to play.

"What brings you to my abode?" asked Conrad.

"It's Thursday night. We meet every Thursday night," said Teresa. She walked over to a plump leather couch and sat down.

Conrad stood up and for the first time it registered with Teresa that he was wearing huge purple cape. The rest of his outfit was his usual ridiculous black evening wear with frilly cuffs and collar, but the cape took the whole thing to a new level.

"You look like an idiot," said Teresa.

"I wanted a more dramatic look."

"You look dramatically more like an idiot."

Conrad walked gracefully over to a big leather chair opposite Teresa and in a blindly fast motion twirled and sat. The motion left the cape spread out behind him in the chair. His over the top outfits and mannerisms often made Teresa forget just how deadly he was. That combination of Conrad's lethality and her intelligence had put them in the position of controlling Siriat's cult. Siriat had sired a number of vampires, but Conrad had killed any that tried to usurp his position as controller of her legacy.

"I thought you said we needed something to rally the troops," said Conrad.

Teresa frowned. The cult was starting to disintegrate, the members sensed the lack of purpose and were becoming increasingly ambivalent. She had been running the cult with Conrad as a figurehead for profit since the death of Siriat. She had stumbled into the position because of her association with Conrad and an old friend named Ripper, the man who had killed Siriat.

"Hey, if you're going to just sit there and ignore me, then I'd rather go back to the piano and play the Appassionata."

Conrad's comment brought Teresa back from her thoughts. "Conrad, I have an idea for something to reenergize the cult. Something big for the upcoming sacrifice."

Conrad smiled. "You want me to wear red! I've already got the perfect outfit!"

Teresa shook her head, "Uh, no. I got a phone call from Ripper this afternoon that gave me an idea."

"Ripper! Wasn't he the one that did the..." Conrad put his hands into a ball and then opened them dramatically, "...poof job on Siriat. We should buy that man a fruitcake, Siriat turning to dust was the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Actually, I was thinking he would be the sacrifice. Turns out he is also the Watcher who has a Slayer, we will sacrifice her too. That ought to solidify the cult."

Conrad raised an eyebrow. "Do you think I can handle the Slayer?"

Teresa smiled, "I have a plan to handle the Slayer. Don't forget that Ripper still thinks I'm his friend."