All usual disclaimers apply, we don't own the rights. This story is being written purely for entertainment.
This is a crossover story.
Beta by Kate CMT
Demons & Angels
Co-written By Kreek and Starsky's Strut
Prologue
The ragged man's stomach rumbled loudly. It wouldn't do any good to try to ignore it any longer. He had to get something in his belly. He hated living on the street – Ha! Living- this wasn't 'living' -this was existing. And barely existing at that. Then he remembered why he was here and what had brought him down so low. He knew he deserved to be here.
He sighed heavily, kicked away his moth-eaten blanket and crawled out of his cardboard box. He took a hearty swig from his ever present liquor bottle. Hunger gnawing at him, he heading out in search of something to put in his belly besides alcohol.
XXXX
The couple walked down the secluded, dark and filthy alley. They stopped under the only working streetlamp in the area. Passion overtook them and they were soon entwined in each others arms.
Hands digging deep into pants and under shirts.
Groping, grabbing.
Deeply kissing each other.
Oblivious to everything –and everyone- around them.
They were strangers to the young gang leader. He watched the pair for several minutes and felt his groin muscles tighten. The girl was beautiful. A waif with huge eyes and long dark hair. Her date was slim and taller than the girl. But it wouldn't have mattered if he were a big man –which he wasn't- there were more than enough of the Village Wolves gang to take him out. And share the 'spoils.'
This would be so easy.
And so fun.
The young man decided that he might just keep her alive for a day or two before killing her. Her date however… well his time was now measured in minutes.
The young man could barely contain his arousal and his jean restricted him almost painfully. He nudged his second in command. The second nodded eagerly. Other faces, once hidden in the shadows, slowly emerged. Their eyes darted and glanced. They had been in the gang for years now -each knew their task and needed no words to direct their actions. Rapidly they fanned out and surrounded the oblivious lovers.
It was time.
The leader stepped forward.
Seconds later the alley erupted with sounds of a fierce fight. Shrieks and voices begging for mercy rang through the narrow alley.
And somewhere in the dark, in one of the many low rent apartments in the area, someone called the police.
Chapter 1
The raggedy man crouched in the narrow, dirty alley. He could hear the commotion and the screams. It didn't concern him. His business was with the rat that was hiding not two feet from him. He moved in, quietly closing the gap on his four-legged quarry.
The sounds of a lone siren drew near and the ragged man cursed silently and withdrew into the shadows, looking longingly as the rodent scurried into a pile of filthy rags.
XXXX
Ninth precinct
"-Zebra three, we are responding code 3." Hutch put the mic back and grabbed the mars light, turning it on, reaching out the window to smack it down on the roof of his partner's pride and joy.
"Dammit Hutch! I just had Merle get the dent out from the last time ya did that. You probably scratched the paint too." The dark-haired detective groused as he shot a glare at his fair-haired partner.
Hutch rolled his eyes and changed the subject; it was a losing proposition to argue about his buddy's beloved tomato… er… Torino. "Do you believe this? This is gotta be the third fight we've been called to tonight. Seems like the town's going crazy lately."
"Forth." Starsky corrected. "And that's Friday night in Bay City for ya."
Hutch's blond hair glinted in the streetlights as he nodded in agreement. "Good thing it's nearly morning." He suppressed a yawn. "It's been too long of a night already. I just wanna wrap this up, get the paper work done and go home."
"I hear ya partner, I hear ya." The curly headed cop pressed the accelerator and the Torino roared down the street.
XXXX
Starsky slammed on the brakes and shoved the car into park the second it stopped moving. He and Hutch were out and dashing towards a narrow alley. They could hear the muffled sounds of a fight.
"Should we wait for backup?" Hutch asked.
There was a shout for help followed by other garbled shouts and thuds of heavy things being tossed about. All thoughts of waiting for reinforcements were forgotten as they pelted in the direction of the sounds of the echoing pleas. He and Hutch exchanged a glance and increased speed.
This was what he liked best about this job, Starsky mused as he raced towards the brawl. Working with his best friend to clean up the streets. There was also the excitement and getting to help others. Speaking of which… He noticed something that might get in the way of that notion and grabbed Hutch's elbow to keep him from tripping over a bum's legs in the passage. They didn't break stride and ran in unison, left and right feet slapping the pavement in tandem. Stride for stride they dashed on. All was right with their world.
The commotion further up the alley abruptly stopped and the pair gave each other a quizzical look and slowed to a walk. They pulled their guns and edged near where the ruckus had been coming from.
"By the pricking of my toes, something good this way comes." The voice was female and she'd spoken the strange sentence with a soft, slightly musical cockney accent.
Starsky exchanged a 'What the hell?' look with Hutch. They moved closer to the place where they had heard all the commotion. Starsky thumbed back the hammer on his Berretta.
"Thumbs, Dumpling. The saying is 'by the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes'. 'Toes' doesn't exactly rhyme with 'good' at all, Love." That voice was male and British accented.
"But Spike, thumbs doesn't rhyme with good, either." There was a whining note in the female's sing-song voice. "And they are good. All the way to the tips of their hair to bottom of their guts. Can't you feel it? I can." She twittered as she sashayed around the man in black. "Soooo good. White knights, comin' t' save the day. It's too late though, far too late. Can't save anything… sun's nearly up."
"So it is." The male replied with an indulgent tone in his voice.
Hutch cautiously peeked around the corner and stared.
Starsky sidled up and peered over his partner's shoulder.
Under a single, dim and flickering streetlamp in the dingy back alley was a couple. The girl was thin, with long hair and a white filmy dress. The man was dressed in black jeans, black shirt with a long black leather duster. These must be the people whom the partners had heard talking moments before.
The lovers were now embracing, kissing under the light of the lone lamppost. They were out of place with the sight surrounding them -a gruesome scene strewn with bloody and broken bodies- some which moved, some that did not.
Starsky noted that the pair didn't seem armed. Their hands –and mouths- were too full of each other to contain weapons.
The waif of a girl leaned back in the circle of the man's arms. "You sure know 'ow to show a lady a good time."
"I try." The man in black gave a throaty laugh, growled and buried his face in her neck before working back to her lips.
The detectives edged closer, Starsky sweeping the area with his gun, making certain neither he nor his partner got any nasty surprises.
The couple continued kissing, apparently unaware of the two cops as they cautiously entered the wider part of the alley. Starsky remembered that this was the old, dilapidated part of Bay City. At one time the alley might have been part of a street, before the big quake of 1952. He noticed that there was another alley joining the first one, making a T intersection.
Hutch swung around and checked the new direction, Magnum pointing down that alley as Starsky slid his disbelieving eyes over the ten or so prone young men, who –judging from their clothing and tattoos- were members of the local- and violent- Village Wolves. The smell of blood and other body fluids hung heavy in the air, mingling with the background stench of ripe garbage. He curled his lip at the offensive smell.
Feeling the gaze of his partner, Starsky shared a glance with Hutch. 'How can anyone kiss in the middle of this bloody mess?' He thought grimly. Hutch shook his head and shrugged at the unasked question.
There was a low groan from the person next to him, Starsky looked down. The battered young man turned his face to the curly haired detective. Their eyes met.
"Not h-human." The gang member coughed, blood splattered wetly to the ground as he spoke. "They ain't huma-" A gurgle issued from his lips as his eyes closed.
Starsky watched out of the corner of his eye as Hutch put his gun away and cautiously knelt next to the youth, checking for a pulse. He could see his blond partner shake his head sadly before getting up to check the next prone body.
"Police" Starsky stated loudly as an afterthought, he'd been so taken aback by the carnage, he'd forgotten to make the announcement earlier. He carefully rescanned the area for any possible trouble spots, heartily wishing backup would arrive quickly. They were obviously going to need help figuring this mess out. "What happened here?" Starsky asked the strange couple as he waved his free hand over the bodies, keeping both his eyes and gun on them. Something about this pair was making him very uneasy.
The man in black stepped back from the girl. "Oh right, bloody-" He coughed and cleared his throat before continuing. "Police… Took you long enough. Right… umm… we were attacked. Right mess that. Terrible when one can't walk the streets anymore without gettin' jumped. Streets ain't safe for decent folks anymore."
The waif giggled coquettishly. "Not safe." She wiggled her fingers at the fair haired detective. Her voice lowered and became husky. "Not safe at all."
Starsky watched as Hutch looked down at one of the twisted bodies. It was the forth person he'd checked on and the third one devoid of life. The brunet understood why his partner hadn't bothered to check for a pulse, since the head was turned completely around, looking like some sort of human/owl hybrid. The eyes were wide open, the jaw gaping in abject terror. Hutch closed the dead man's eyes.
"You two were attacked-" The blond's voice carried a clear note of disbelief to it. "-by all these people… and you fought them off, did this to them…" His words trailed off as the young lady began to glide silently towards him, an intent look on her alluring face.
"What a bloody bright copper you are!" The man called Spike exclaimed as he grabbed the elbow of the petite woman, swinging her away from the blond cop and back to his side. "Right. Jolly good. Now we've got that straight, we'll be leaving. C'mon Dru, let's not keep these two nice policemen from their work."
Starsky cleared his throat and called out, "Hold it right there. I'm sorry, but you're both gonna have to come down to the station with us. We've got questions." He locked eyes with Spike. "Lots of questions."
The man in black stiffened slightly. "I'm sure you've got questions. Coppers always have questions. Thing is-"
"Y-you killed them!"
The man in black stopped talking as one of the gang members staggered to his feet and pulled a gun from under his shirt and pointed it at the unarmed man and the waif. The weapon bobbed wildly as the young man's hand shook.
The gang member looked pleadingly at Starsky, looking incredibly young. "Their faces… It was like somethin' outta 'The Exorcist'." He nodded at the dead body near Starsky. "Low Boy was right. They ain't human." His gun hand shook so hard, the kid had to use his other one to steady it. "Bullets can hit them and they don't die!" There was a 'snick' sound as he squeezed the trigger. The pistol was a hair's breath away from firing.
"Take it easy." Starsky quickly leveled his gun at the young man. "Easy… Put the gun down, son. I don't want to have to shoot you. Please, just take your finger off that trigger, okay? We'll figure this out."
Hutch edged towards the youth, drawing his Magnum from its holster as he did so.
"NO! You don't understand! I'll show you!" The gang member panted, half in pain, half in fear. He leveled his shaking weapon at the man in black.
"Don't!" Hutch called out. "It's not worth it. Do what my partner says. Please."
The young man's hands quit shaking. He took careful aim at the man and his girlfriend.
"NO!" Starsky hollered, pointing his gun at the nervous gang member. A twitch would be all it took for him to fire. The couple was unarmed, he had to defend them.
BANG
BANG
The bullet from the young man's gun erupted from the muzzle a fraction of a second before Starsky's slug burst out of his.
The youth's projectile hit the man in black square in the chest and he swayed with the impact.
Nearly simultaneously, Starsky's bullet hit the gang member's wrist, breaking his hold on the gun and spinning the kid around, effectively disarming him.
"BLOODY HELL! You ruddy little bastard! That hurts!" The man in black bellowed and jumped over ten feet from a complete standstill –to land directly in front of the kid. One-handed, he lifted the youth over his head and flung him against the wall like a rag doll. There was a sickening 'crack' as the youth hit the side of the building. "I hate getting shot." The man in black pulled at the duster and stuck a finger in the fresh hole over his right shoulder. "Dammit." Irritated, he looked over to Starsky. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to find someone to fix leather?"
Momentarily stunned by the impressive gymnastics and violence, the two detectives gaped at the irate man. They traded a disbelieving glance.
Hutch found his voice first. "Take it easy, just sit down and we'll call you an ambulance."
"Call me an ambulance? I'm an ambulance." The man chided Hutch. "There. Now you don't have to call me one. Dru, let's get out of here, I hear sirens. More boys in blue are about to join our little private party. It'll never do."
"I 'ate party crashers." The waif's lower lip popped out into an impressive pout as she whined. "But I 'aven't eaten yet, Spike…I'm soooo 'ungry. Didn't even get a littl' appetizer. Not one bite for me."
"It'll be alright. We'll get you something to eat at the precinct." Hutch soothed, addressing the woman. "You've had quite an ordeal tonight."
Starsky listened to his friend with half an ear as he cautiously checked the male victim. He shook himself. Trauma or no trauma, the pair obviously had serious mental health issues. That's how the injured man had leapt so far and thrown the shooter. He listened intently for a few seconds, but he couldn't hear any sirens that the man-Spike- had claimed he'd heard. But he heartily wished he could hear them. He and Hutch could use the help. It was gonna take all day to figure out who was responsible for this mess.
Remembering how the guy had reacted to the pain of being shot, Starsky didn't touch the wound. He instead looked for blood from the gunshot. He walked around behind the man. It was obvious that the bullet had gone through the chest and out the other side. But no blood was exiting the injuries.
The hairs on the back of Starsky's neck rose, he peered up from the injury to lock gazes with the man in black. He felt a sudden, deep urge to step back, but he forced himself not to move. He was not going to be intimidated by some injured tourist. Spike smiled at him. The expression didn't reach his eyes.
'Maybe those kids were on ta somethin'...nah…' Starsky shook his head at his silly notion and called to his partner. "Hutch, c'mere and take a look at this."
The brunet was getting more nervous as he continued to look for blood. And the fact that he still wasn't seeing any. What made him even more nervous was the way the couple kept so calm after the shooting-or perhaps, and more likely- they were in shock. Shock could slow the blood flow. But to have no flow at all? Starsky's logical side argued. Not likely.
The lovers continued their bizarre dialogue, speaking as if he and Hutch weren't even there.
"Oh all right Dru, grab something and let's get out of here. Sun's comin' up and the law's nearly here. What're you in the mood for? Hmm?"
"Pork."
The word was whispered in Starsky's ear. He was so startled, he jumped. 'How had she gotten that close, that quickly?' He turned to look and her and fell into her vast brown eyes. He was lost. He'd never fallen this hard for anyone. Not even Terry Roberts, the woman he'd wanted to marry, until a slowly moving bullet in her brain took her life. This girl was better. She was more… She was everything.
"Be with me…" She whispered and licked his neck.
'Yes… I'm yours.' Starsky's brain whispered back.
"Dru, grab it and let's go! You can eat it later."
"Starsky!"
The curly haired detective could dimly hear his partner's voice. It seemed to be coming from miles away, through a long, dark tunnel.
"Be… with… me…"
"Yes…" 'Anything… anything at all to be with you', his mind quietly returned. There were twin pin pricks in his neck. She suckled on him. It felt so good. So right…
"Starsky! Snap out of it! Leave him alone!"
Hutch's voice was louder this time. Starsky shook his head and was stunned to see his partner shoving his way between the enchantress and himself. Reality snapped and confusion washed over him. "What happened?"
"I-I'm not sure know. I think she hypnotized you, I think she was biting you! Back off lady." Hutch pushed her firmly away.
The brunet's head still spun. What had just happened?
"Hands off, Yank! No one hurts Dru but me!" The man in black grabbed Hutch and shoved him against the wall.
Neither detective saw it coming.
One second Hutch was between the waif and Starsky, the next, the tall blond was gasping for the air that had been knocked out of him and struggling to stay on his feet – several feet away from his starting point.
Starsky felt the residuals of whatever she had done to him quickly fall away. Anger flared hotly. No one attacked his partner and got away with it. Spike had already proven himself dangerous by throwing the gun wielding gang member against a building and killing him. And that was after he had been shot. Starsky had chalked it all up to a major adrenalin rush, but by now that should have been wearing off.
"That's it! No more Mr. Nice Guy! Put your hands and the wall and spread 'em!" Starsky used his most authoritative voice. "Now!" He pushed Spike towards the nearest building.
Spike laughed, low and dirty. "Right, well that bloody well does it." He put his hands in front him seemingly daring Starsky to cuff him. "Take me in, Copper. I was gonna let you go, you know. Normally I don't want no trouble with the local bobbies. Regular royal pain in the arse, you lot. But I'm gonna make an exception just for you-"
"Shut the HELL UP and put your hands on that wall!" Starsky barked, taking the dare. He grabbed one of the proffered wrists. "You don't know who you're foolin' with-"
The man flipped his arm around, broke Starsky's grip and quickly grabbed the startled detective's arm and shoved his face close to Starsky's and hissed, "Neither do you mate, neither do you."
The curly haired detective tried to remove his suddenly trapped arm from Spike's steely grip, but felt his blood freeze as his captor's face changed. In a flash, the brows had become heavily ridged and abruptly there seemed to be far more teeth than any normal human had. The canines were longer, thinner and came to a point. The rest of the brunet's world shrank and disappeared. The only thing that existed was this –creature—before him.
He couldn't move.
Couldn't think.
It wasn't possible. What he was seeing just wasn't possible.
"Oh lookit. Poor, poor litt'le bunny. You're scaring it, Spike." A female voice purred.
Her slim hand caressed his cheek and slid into his curly hair. Starsky couldn't move away. His breath came in short puffs, his eyes still locked on the one called Spike and his mouth full of suddenly sharp teeth.
"Whot a lovely, scared litt'le rabbit you are." The strange woman cooed to Starsky, her hand dug into his thick curls and yanked hard, tipping his head back and to the right. She licked his neck.
"NO!"
Starsky could dimly hear Hutch's yell. But he couldn't move. He was too petrified. This scene was straight out of his darkest childhood nightmares. A time when he'd been positive that Dracula lived in his closet. So positive that he'd slept with garlic around his neck for years.
Part of his terrified mind recognized that there was a scuffle now taking place. But he couldn't focus on it. He could see his partner's bright blond head of hair flashing in the lone street light. Could see that the man and Hutch were moving, fighting.
Something heavy smashed him against the wall at his back. His head throbbed, his vision dimmed and he felt a hard catch in his ribs. Starsky gave a weak groan. It slowly dawned on him that the weight nearly crushing him was Hutch. One of the 'creatures' had thrown his friend on top of him.
Just as that realization hit him, Hutch was pulled away and dragged to his feet.
By the waif.
Starsky couldn't make out the words that were spoken, but the casual flirtatious tone of the woman gave him the creeps. He groaned as every bone in his body cried out in agony.
He watched helplessly as Hutch broke away from her and moved in his direction.
Starsky wanted to act, to charge into the midst of the two assailants homing in on his partner like a pair of hyenas. He lay paralyzed by fear. They're monsters… Things wanting Hutch, tearing him apart in a moment if I don't… Deep within, his anger grew, until he felt it burning in his chest as it bounced against the restriction of his horror-frozen body. Move! But fright still ruled his muscles, his actions, his physical pain, with momentarily ballooned out of proportion.
Gasping in pain, Starsky stayed where he was. It was all he could do to peer through a crack between eyelids that threatened to close any moment. For a brief second he caught Hutch's eye. In the heat of the battle he read his friend's adrenaline-pushed determination to not go down without a fight, to protect his partner, to die trying.
Starsky's own words rang in his mind. "You see, Hutch an' me, we don't mind buying it on the street…" How many times had he uttered that sentence? Shouted them at some no good nobody as his own personal mantra. However, unable to do a thing and watching helplessly at a scene in which Hutch didn't stand a chance had not entered his wildest imagination.
Hiding deep within his partner's glance, he saw the terrifying realization that this was wrong. That this couldn't be happening. These 'creatures' couldn't be real.
Hutch's fear ricocheted off Starsky's soul and merged with his anger, giving him the strength to move his limbs. With a moan he crawled forward, tediously slow. His efforts not enough to make a difference as the man and strange woman leapt soundlessly toward his best friend.
No. Hang on, Hutch. Just … fight… damn it.
Aggression pushed him onwards, and amazingly, feeling returned into his extremities. He got up on his feet. For a second all he saw was dirt and grit as he focused on the solid ground beneath him, struggling to remain upright.
Hutch's cry of pain echoed through the early dawn, sweeping through Starsky's agony and snapping his eyes onto the gruesome act in front of him. His partner was on his knees, while the woman … fed. Her teeth sunken deep into Hutch's neck.
The first early morning sun's rays hit high on the tall building surrounding them. The reflected light lit the deceptively peaceful scene. His partner had fallen quiet, as the woman silently had her… diner.
The lone streetlamp sputtered and went out.
"Dru, sun's up." Spike warned.
Tears sprung to Starsky's eyes as the waif released his partner. Her large canines dripped with blood –Hutch's blood- the truth of their situation invaded his brain. 'Vampires… Oh God…No, this can't be…' The utter look of shock he saw in Hutch's eyes only lasted a mere moment. Then his friend tipped over, hitting the pavement with a dull thud.
Starsky reached out a hand in a vain attempt to get to his partner. The rising sun's first rays blinded him for a second. When he opened his eyes again the man, woman and Hutch were gone.
Startled he looked at the pavement in front of him. In the distance a couple of birds began their morning serenade. It was as if nothing had happened, as if the vampires had never existed.
Surreal… but for the gut wrenching sense of loss that twisted his stomach until his eyes watered with unshed tears. He bit his lip, refusing to give into the devastation creeping up on him. With effort he tensed his sore muscles the pain ebbing away the more he moved.
He stood on shaking legs, the sun gently kissing his body and warming his cold skin beneath his now ragged clothing.
Morning had arrived.
Starsky ignoring the bodies around him, turning his attention toward the surrounding buildings and the crisp blue sky above. "HUTCH!"
The startled cry of a blackbird was all he got in return.
He yelled again. Panic evident in his voice. "HUUUUUUUTCH!"
Nothing.
No… this is not… happening. Not on our shift…NOT like this… "You hear that!"
He lifted his head. Anger replaced his fear, pushed aside the terrifying scenes he just witnessed and burst out at the all-compassing emptiness around him. "I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU ARE! I'LL BRING YOU DOWN!"
His voice echoed off the firm walls of the cold stone buildings where Starsky was sure someone was listening. He could feel their presence, could sense Hutch was still alive. "I'LL NEVER STOP LOOKING. I'LL HUNT YOU DOWN, EVERY LAST ONE OF YA! UNTIL I FIND HIM!"
He heaved, his energy drained. "YOU HEAR THAT! I'LL FIND HIM!"
Only the moans of the surviving gang member answered him.
TBC
Spike and Drucilla are from "Buffy, The Vampire Slayer" Universe. This is a Pre-Buffy (and Scooby's) story and takes place a short while after the S&H episode "The Vampire".