Prelude
A/N and Disclaimer: Buffy does not belong to me. The title of the story is loosely based on Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds' God Is In The House. And nope, that doesn't belong to me either. Obviously. I'm just going to sulk in a corner now.
Buffy shivered as heavy rain pummeled her back, her side pressed to the slick marble of a mausoleum. She was cold and her limbs felt stiff, but evil didn't give pause just because scattered thunderstorms were on today's forecast.
Spike was directly behind her, covering her six and acting as her homing device. The rain was putting a damper on his superhuman hearing, but it was superhuman all the same. His slick fingers tapped Buffy on the shoulder, giving her the OK. She gave an imperceptible nod, moving forward, keeping her back pressed to the cold marble.
Something fishy had been going on near the vicinity of the wharves, no pun intended. Spike had noticed a couple of shady demons meeting in this particular area of the cemetery. They moved around from mausoleum to mausoleum as if it would make them sparse, but honestly, the last thing you could do to make yourself sparse was to hold meetings in a cemetery of all places. Buffy rolled her eyes.
Buffy glanced at Spike with raised eyebrows before rounding the corner of the mausoleum, lingering near the entrance. He gave her a nod. An orange glow bounced over the rain-slicked walls and spilled gently outside. There was an odd warmth emitting from the crypt, and aside from the pounding rain, Buffy could hear a low hum, not unlike a generator or the lull of an air conditioner.
She saw shadows stretch out of the threshold of the crypt into the inky darkness of the cemetery, throwing three dark silhouettes across the green grass. Spike's fingers still rested on her shoulder and she felt them grip her gently, pulling her back. She eased backward, behind the safety of the slab of marble, but a wayward branch snapped under her feet and she found herself stiffening, her eyes trained on the three shadows stretching outward from the entrance that were suddenly stock still.
And then they were in motion, dispersing in two directions as far as Buffy could tell, and Spike was urgently tugging on her shoulder and then they were running, their footsteps sloshing loudly in the mud and slick grass. Buffy looked back to see one dark-shaped figure gaining on them, while the two remaining were a few feet back, scanning the perimeter of the mausoleum for more interlopers.
Buffy cursed as she saw the nearest figure make a dive for her, barely evading him as she veered to the right. Her lungs burned as she sucked in cold, damp air.
This wasn't supposed to happen. This had been a recon mission only, and it put a dent in their nonexistent plans now that they'd been found. Buffy had no idea what they were up against, and that in itself felt strange because they'd more often than not studied up on their current opponent before even stepping foot in their territory.
But when normal, everyday citizens of Sunnydale started disappearing, there had been no time.
Buffy groaned in frustration as a horde of dark-shaped figures flooded out in front of them, making a half-circle. There were at least twenty of them, and then the one who had tried to take a dive at her was standing behind them, the whites of his eyes glistening in the dark as he crossed his arms to his chest.
"Bouncer position all filled?" Buffy quipped weakly.
And then the lot of them extended their hands, bluish white energy whipping out like striking lightning, and all of it was aimed at the two bleach blondes standing amidst them.
The last thought that flitted through Buffy's mind as she crumpled to the ground was, 'Gaah! Overkill, much?'