*a small village in Wales, January of 1793*

Louise Marion was trapped.

Looking around frantically, she could only see the walls of the alley she had been backed into.  She shivered, more from apprehension than the cold.  This was not supposed to happen.  She was the Slayer, the one girl on earth who could fight the forces of darkness and win.  She was not this scared, fearful little girl trapped in an alley awaiting what was surely to be a grisly death. Of course, she was not as scared as she would have been a few years ago, before she recognized her calling.  Now she was more confident, more assertive.  But she still had fears.  She had just learned to control them better.  Her hand tightened around the stake she held.

The two vampires approached slowly, like patient, sure predators, and for the first time, Louise got a good look at them.  She gasped as she realized just whose corpse the demon had decided to inhabit.  The vampire was hauntingly beautiful.  Golden hair was in a half-undone braid which flowed down her back and her eyes were of the brightest green.  She wore a simple shift, stained with the blood of a recent kill.  It was Louise's own sister, Anne.

Anne, the woman who had raised her like a mother since their own had died. Anne, who had always been there for her when she had a problem, whether it be a scraped knee or a broken heart.  Anne, who had been the only one besides her Watcher, to know of her secret.  Anne, who had been found dead only a month after Louise had began training as a Slayer.

The other vampire came toward her first.  She automatically threw a punch his way while receiving a strong kick in return.  She kicked back, only to be thrown against the wall.  Recovering quickly, she pushed him away with both feet so that he landed neatly on the ground before she drove a stake
into his chest.  He burst into dust.

She was trying to catch her breath when the vampire who was once her dear Anne attacked her from behind.  Without effort, she turned, again driving the same stake through her one time sister and friend, reducing Anne to ashes like her companion.  All of this she did detachedly, without feeling, only to back against a wall and slide down it, sobbing.
 

Thomas Wyatt paced in his small, seaside home.  It was almost dawn and Louise should be back from her Slayer duties soon.  He needed to tell her the news. Grabbing a nearby book, he impatiently flipped through it as a soft rain began to fall outside.

After what seemed like forever, he heard a knock at the door.  Opening it, he saw Louise, her light brown hair in ruins and her faced streaked with what looked like tears, not rain drops.  Her green eyes were calm, though.  Almost defiant, as if daring him to make a remark.

"Hard night?"

"Anne," she said, in a steady voice to match her eyes.  "They turned Anne."

Instantly, her Watcher softened.  He put a supporting hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he said.  "I know it must have been hard for you."

She pulled away.  "That's all right.  I wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

She was lying.  He could tell.

"Anyway," he continued, changing the subject.  "There's a report of some vampire activity in England.  Supposedly some of Darla's "children" were left there, so she should be back to get them.  Meanwhile, you can see if you can kill the others."

"All right.  When do we leave?"  Louise said this without any passion whatsoever.

"As soon as possible.  But one thing."  Thomas ran a hand through his graying hair.

"What?"

He looked at the letter he'd received from the Watchers' Guild.  "We known as Louise Marion and Thomas Wyatt, as we will be staying among aristocrats and need aliases so not to seem too strange.  I'm to be Gareth Thurston and you are to be..."  He glanced up at her.  "Victoria, my ‘daughter'."

She nodded.  Her own parents were both long dead and Thomas was more of a father to her than her real one ever was.  "Victoria.  I like it."