Issue 1
Written by Brian Lynch
Pencilled by Franco Urru
Colours by Andrea Priorini

A woman is on the phone. She’s been up and down the slot machines all day with barely any luck. She drank too much the night before and threw up in her purse. She’s telling her friend that that is what qualifies for a good time in Vegas, as she once again hedges her bets. Nope. Bad luck. There’s been lots of bad luck lately – too much. She presses the buttons again, not really paying attention. The machine makes that triumphant alarm – she’s delighted that she’s won! What did she match? A wolf, a goat and a… heart? Huh? As she goes to collect her winnings, she finds a beetle in the slot. An army of them begins to swarm out from the machines, devouring human skin on contact. Bodies litter the ground. The police will cover it up. There will be tourists in here by tomorrow.

But the slot machine and that match: the now-dead woman was wrong; that isn’t a picture of a goat – it’s a picture of a Ram…

Things aren’t that much better in Los Angeles. Everybody is obsessed with vampires now that Los Angeles has been returned from Hell: there’s a movie blockbuster being made – with a re-gendered Spike. There’s also a book on the stands, courtesy of spider-woman Maria, who’s written a tell-all about her relationship with William the Bloody. And even that has been hurried on Hollywood – slasher flicks and teenage drama stories: there’s even one where vampires shine in sunlight, with a love triangle between him, a wolf and a human girl. Who makes this stuff up? Bloody Spider, that’s who.

Yes, Spike is not amused. His life has been made a laughing stock by Hollywood vultures, shady agents and broken-hearted lovers. And every time there’s a new chapter in the story, it all goes nuts again. Like regular clockwork: the fans show up at the screenings, desperate to meet a vampire. Then the real ones turn up and take the whole theatre for a meal. Literally ‘take’ the whole crowd.

This is the sixth cinema tonight.

Luckily for the crowd, Team Angel are there to save the day, depleted though they may be. Illyria is not amused by the wailing humans – she thinks they should leave them to whimper. Angel reminds her, emphatically, that that is not what they do – ever. Spike has noticed the fans wearing ‘Team William’ shirts. He wants one. He spins and hits a vamp – he complains to Spike that he was his hero, the one all the vamps look to for inspiration, the one they want to be like. Spike puts a stake through his chest with a quip: “And you are, mate. I turned to dust, too. Find an amulet and get back to me.”

Angel shoots him a look. He reminds him that they’re on a schedule. Spike is going to Las Vegas.

Before he can get travelling though, Spike is putting together his own team. He’s come to Mosaic, the rehab-facility for the supernatural. He’s been around since the start of the project, after aiding them when they started up, and would like his repayment in the form of a favour: he would like to escort a prisoner on day release – as his backup – to Vegas. The prisoner in question is a pyrokinetic he has encountered before: a young woman named Beck. The doctors are sceptical – Spike has a reputation for helping, but also for getting into trouble and escalating matters further. He also has a habit of, shall we put it, romancing, his partners. Spike scoffs at this – he is just looking out for a friend and they won’t be alone anyway – Betta George is coming with. The telepathic fish is happy to help – although he would be more comfortable with the big guns like Angel, Illyria, or even Connor, to aid them. Spike dismisses his concerns – they’re more than enough to handle Vegas.

As Beck is led out of Mosaic, in restraints, Spike is surprised: the Beck who became a patient here was quiet and nervous, almost petrified. This Beck comes with an attitude and a dress sense to match. She flirts with Spike as soon as she sees him, and he wonders what changed her. She has two days with Spike and then she is to be brought back for further treatment at Mosaic. She removes her restraints with her fire powers – and takes the end off Spike’s cigarette without hitting him.

Not long afterwards, Spike is tearing down the Vegas strip on his bike, Beck screeching behind him, urging him to go faster. Betta George says that they’re supposed to be inconspicuous, but she laughs at the absurdity of the telepathic fish, in a sidecar no less, telling her to be on the Q.T.! George replies by placing an illusion in the minds of other motorists – they see what they want to see.

Suddenly, a very unusual sight renders them speechless. An Elvis impersonator. Flying through the air. Then another. And another, and another, and what is the plural of ‘Elvis’ anyway? wonders Spike, as dozens and dozens of impersonators fuse together in a giant mass  of… well, Elvis Impersonators. A giant made up of tiny Elvis’.

Spike knows weird, and this is definitely weird. Betta George telepathically calms down the crowd and the fearful Presleys, who are panicking. Beck fends off debris with her flames, trying not to hurt anyone. Spike continues to clamber up the make-shift creature, following a hunch that is proven correct: there’s some sort of demon at the heart of the mass, drawing them in. He must be a fan.

The demon is surprised to see Spike: he was expecting someone else. No matter, it proclaims, as it contacts it’s superior: it’s Spike. Things just became easier. Spike fires questions at the creature – Who are you? What do you want? He stabs it with a sword and, with the demon vanquished, the Elvis impersonators, no longer ‘caught in a trap’, tumble to the ground. Spike, who’s pretty sure his arm is no longer in its socket, says that he’s proved himself now. Vegas is his town, and he’s got things to do. He’s just going to lie here, on the strip for a while. He asks Beck to light a cigarette and put it in his mouth – he’s pretty sure he can’t use his arm.

In a suite at the top of a top Vegas hotel, an undressed man, surrounded by adult entertainment, with all its accessories, has a conversation over the phone: he will make sure that she knows, referring to his companion, a dark haired woman who lies, naked, on the bed. He’s a tall man, with long dark hair and a trim goatee. He thinks it’s freaky that his girl knew that the call was coming before it happened. He tells her he shouldn’t have doubted her visions: they’re always right. Shall we get dressed, and get to our task, he asks. She says she enjoys playing their game instead and he moves in for a kiss – he asks why Spike is important. She says that he has her heart. It’s a very different thing to what they have – he wouldn’t understand.

As the man spins her around, her face is revealed. His companion is Drusilla, Spike’s former paramour of centuries past, and his sire. The man pulls her closer, resuming their love making. He understands all too well, he says, as Dru giggles in delight… After all, Spike is the bastard that has his soul.