"You're sure this will work?" Warren demanded as he pushed his way past his inept blonde cohort to stare over the shoulder of the short magic user. The most aggressive member of the Trio frowned skeptically at the dingy liquid in the large beaker.
"Uh, yeah... it'll work," Jonathan promised as he glanced nervously one more time at his spell book. He shifted the murky fluid filled container onto the flat top of a rigged electrical box. The small, dark haired nerd then dropped a small metal bar thinly coated in plastic into the mix and flipped the switch on the side panel of the recently assembled machine. Inside the machine, a strong magnet began to circle. The spinning, polarized piece of machinery forced the tiny bar in the bottom of the beaker to shift in a tight circle. With a flick of his wrist, Jonathan increased the speed of the spinning device until the murky fluid began to swirl. He mumbled a few words in Latin over the stirring mixture before once more increasing the speed of the machine.
By now, the fluid in the beaker resembled a whirlpool. Liquid streamed up the edges of the glass and a void developed in the center. Jonathan briefly smiled at how well his make-shift stirring machine worked. It beat having to mix the fluid that represented the unknown universes by hand.
The excited geek picked up a pair of large tweezers in one hand and a recently opened petri dish holding a tiny charm from a necklace in the other. He looked over his shoulder at his blond friend.
"Andrew, you're positive that the Slayer was the last person to touch this jewelry?" he confirmed one last time.
The blonde nodded. He had slipped into the house on Revello Drive just a few days ago and stolen the charm off the chain Buffy wore most days. The light haired nerd had carefully snagged the piece with his own set of tweezers and slipped it into the petri dish for safe keeping.
"Ok... then here goes," Jonathan nervously stated as he lifted the charm over the swirling fluid. He muttered a few more words in Latin then dropped the charm into the beaker.
Nothing noticeable happened.
"Did it work?" Warren demanded as Jonathan hit the switch to turn off his mixing machine.
"Yep," his companion replied.
The larger male slapped his small friend on the shoulder.
"Excellent. Lets plan some mayhem," Warren chucked.
One would think that if you wanted to succeed in a greater necromantic ritual, the bad guys would choose to find a better location than an easily accessible cemetery in my city. I'll be the first to admit that I was attached to my hometown and it tended to irk me when folks try to destroy part of it with their nefarious schemes. It made me a bit grumpy and a grumpy wizard was not a good enemy to have.
Having established my foul mood and my wizard-ness, it made perfect sense that the bad guys should have found an alternative site for this spell but luckily for me and the alternative site, they didn't. So here I stood late in the evening on a Tuesday, facing down the undead in all the glory of a cliched dime store horror novel. Darkness, old tombstones, an imposing crypt, a blood sacrifice, or well more accurately three sacrifices, screaming helplessly from inside the stone building and approaching midnight all contributed to the sad attempt.
Not to say that their plans were not evil or that the bad guys did not have a good chance of causing some death and destruction. It's just that on a normal night, a small scourge of Black Court vampires out in the relative openness of a graveyard would not pose much of a threat for me. A little fire ball, a little decapitation level force blast, maybe some blessed water balloons and boom, no more vamps. Unfortunately, tonight was not a typical night. I'm not sure when Chicago decided to welcome a monsoon season but it seemed that tonight was the first day of its new status as a city of tropical water storms.
It was terribly unfair that I was standing outside in the pouring rain while whoever was casting the ritual was inside the large stone structure just few yards from my position. He or she was perfectly dry and comfortable while I was soaked. In fact, I suspected my boots actually had more water than feet in them and my duster, though normally a great protection from the elements, hung like a soppy dragging mess around my body. Not exactly comfortable. Granted, it wasn't winter rain. It was bathtub temperature water which is a far cry better than some of the bitterly cold freezing rain we can get swooping from the north and across the lake in the winter. It lacked that kind of bite. That didn't mean it wasn't biting me in the ass anyway.
You see, water messed with my magic. Yeah, sure, I have the force of will to cast a mean flaming wall of destruction in a fog or even a bit of snow flurry. I can hold a successful focus almost indefinitely for a location spell as I trudge through a light drizzle with only a minor headache. Hell, I've even held a few major spells for a few moments in the middle of a snow storm or under fire sprinklers with only a minor stabbing migraine. What I can't do is toss about death and destruction on some undead in the middle of a downpour that was dumping not just buckets but entire tubs continuously over both me and my enemies. The magic just fizzled. Case in point, my last fire spell had barely scorched the current vampire advancing on me. The flame had issued in a flashing burn from my staff but died to smoking ruin leaving me with a blinding headache and churning guts.
The dried lips of my closest opponent pulled back in a mocking grin and raspy laughter crept through the darkness as it mocked my offensive attempt.
In response, I pulled my handgun from the pocket of my coat and shot it in the center of its body. The gloating vampire staggered back from the force of the bullet but it was only a temporary reprieve. The damn thing shook off the injury like the dead body it was. If it had been a Red or White Court vampire, the gut shot would have been more effective. Against the corpse body of a Black Court vampire? I might have well been blowing bubbles at it. Or hitting it with a barrel of monkeys or pick up sticks. I shook my head once. Sadly, the pick up sticks might be a bit more effective than the gun. Like in the Dracula movies, improvised stakes work on Black Court vamps.
Behind me, I hear my four legged backup issue a warning growl. There are at least three vamps approaching from that direction and although Mouse is more than your average dog, I'm not sure even he can take three vamps in the quick succession that was gonna be needed if we ever hoped to save the still screaming hostages before the midnight hour of doom.
Of further note, it won't really matter how many vamps my overgrown lapdog can munch if I don't survive my own opponent. Mr. Happy cackles creepily at me one more time before launching himself at my throat. To say the Black Court vamps are fast was like saying Walter Payton played football. True but no where near the full spectrum picture of their blinding speed or Sweetness' skills as a running back. The only thing that saved my neck was the instinctive strike of my staff that caught him mid dive. The vampire took the blow without complaint but it sailed away from the force of the physical strike. I am by no means a small man and Black Court vamps are basically dried up dead guys. Lots of speed but little weight in their undead bodies. The bloodthirsty body flew a good ten feet before it hit a large tombstone with a sharp crack. The vamp shuddered on impact before it reoriented itself on me. It shifted into motion once again.
I was preparing for its next attack when an unexpected projectile slammed into my body.
Now, I have had a number of things chucked at me in the middle of a battle. Rocks, bullets, spells and even flaming poo but I would have to say this was the first time having a naked woman tossed violently into my arms in the middle of battle. Especially one whose pupils were blown wide in ecstasy, was screaming some other guy's name and was writhing in the tail end of what must have been one hell of an earth shattering orgasm. It was a once in a lifetime experience.
With my gun in one hand and my staff in the other, I really was not prepared to catch her petite form. She slammed into my soaked chest and I staggered back. She was still lost in release and I was just as lost in surprise. My moment of distraction cost us. Well, actually, it cost her. The vamp that I had previously been facing landed its attack. Although the claw swipe was short of a killing blow because the woman's arrival had driven me back a step, it still caught the naked stranger across her shoulder and ripped deep furrows in her skin and into the muscle. Her eyes instantly lost their pleasured haze and she screamed in pain.
Guilt drove its fist into my gut. I might not have expected her to fall into my arms but she had just taken a vicious wound meant for me. I dropped my gun and attempted to sweep my arm protectively around her before the vampire could launch a second attack. Before my gun even hit the ground, she was already gone from my arms. She twisted free with a speed to match the Black Court vampire and launched herself at its undead form. For the second time in just a few heartbeats, I was floored with shock. The tiny little blonde blocked a claw swing that I could barely see and followed with a blow to the vampire's face that shattered its jaw.
The naked woman moved like a natural predator. All efficient movements and deadly grace. One moment she was trading blows with the vampire and the next, she was wrenching it's head from its body. My mouth might have fallen open in amazement even as I scrambled to retrieve my dropped gun but I was not about to admit it. With the forward threat resolved, I turned to the enemies at my back. Mouse had one on the ground and was tearing at its throat with his powerful jaws. That one was good as dead. I raised my gun and aimed at the nearest vamp. The bullets might not kill it but it would slow it down for a moment.
I pulled the trigger as I attempted to gather my will to attempt another spell. Suddenly, my staff was ripped from my grasp as the naked blonde claimed it as her own as she rushed past me. The petite warrior threw herself at the closest vampire. My staff, which was almost a foot taller than she was, blurred as strike after precision strike connected with the undead corpse. The warrior drew the staff back and parallel to the ground before slamming it into the chest of the vampire. She yanked it free and immediately set her sites on the vampire I had wounded with my gun.
Figuring my new and unexpected ally had things well in hand, I rushed towards the crypt. Although terror-filled screams are not the most pleasant thing to hear, I was glad the cries were still echoing inside the stone building. It meant the sacrifices were still alive and I still had time to stop the ritual.
I clamored through the open door of the crypt. Raising my gun, I emptied the rest of my bullets into the gut of the remaining vampire. The belly of lead effectively distracted the chanting undead sorcerer from his spell and gave me time to kick over the ritual candles that where spread at the five points of the blood drawn pentagram on the floor. The vampire staggered against the nearest marble wall. It hissed in rage at me before launching itself for the supposed safety and freedom of the door.
I spared a glance for the three crying hostages huddled against the far wall before following the vampire. Although frightened, none of them seemed injured so it was more important that I ensure that the escaping vampire was truly dead. That would ensure it took no future victims. Exiting back into the torrential downpour, I was just in time to watch the fleeing corpse meet its doom on the end of my staff at the hands of the tiny blonde.
She seemed lost for a moment as she stared at the dead corpse still stuck on the gory end of my staff. Her nose wrinkled slightly in disgust at the dead body. It was almost like she didn't expect the corpse to still be skewered on the end of the weapon. I was definitely going to need some serious cleaning on that staff before I used it again. The little warrior shook the dead body off the end of the weapon. She glanced around the graveyard as if determining that all the threats were gone. Her eyes paused only momentarily on Mouse before they continued their circuit. They paused again when they reached me but then quickly shifted away to check the remaining section of the cemetery.
Utterly enthralled by her presence, I stared at her the entire time. She seemed to radiate a heady power that called to me. Through the downpour, I could see her chest heaving as she attempted to catch her ragged breath. I watched for a heartbeat as she dropped my staff and wrapped her arms around her shaking body. My own adrenaline rush dropped and my body suddenly reminded me that there were other hormones finding this situation interesting. I couldn't help myself. My eyes slid appreciatively over her naked form.
Holy Moley.
Even from this distance, she was a sight to see. Angry at myself for not resisting the shameless call of her exposed skin, I mentally kicked myself for staring like a hormonal teenager. The little blonde swayed and I finally convinced my body that my mind was actually in charge. I rushed through the rain towards her form as she crumbled to the ground. Mouse beat me. He was gently nudging her neck with his nose when I reached them.
He looked up at me and whined before returning his nose to the skin along the edge of her hairline.
"Damn," I cussed as I saw the blood flowing down her back and staining the ground in a light pink haze. I had completely forgotten the injury in the rush of the battle. I fumbled with my coat until it slid to the ground and I yanked off my equally soaked t-shirt. Pressing the shirt onto the long wound, I hoped it would be enough to slow the blood loss.
The blonde groaned and I glanced nervously around the graveyard. After battle patchwork was not my expertise. I grabbed my duster and wrapped it around her body. I pulled it tight across her back and hoped that the tension would keep the pressure on the make-shift bandage. I lifted her slight form into my arms. She was surprisingly light. I stared at her for a moment as she whimpered in pain and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.
"You'll be okay," I promised her as I headed towards the crypt. I needed to ensure that the three hostages got out of their confinement then I could get her medical treatment. "I'll get you to the hospital real soon and they can patch you right up."
"No hospital," she muttered as she shifted her head to rest more comfortably on my bare shoulder. I juggled her slightly to better distribute her weight then shuffled towards the stone monument. Without a command, Mouse sunk his teeth around the center of my staff and happily trotted behind us with his tail wagging.
In a few minutes, we were all marching through the rain like a bizarre parade. One shirtless drowned rat of a wizard, three sniffling would be sacrifice victims, a pony sized, soaked dog with a six foot stick in its mouth and one tiny little blonde curled like a child against my chest. All we needed was some music. A faint smile tugged at the side of my mouth. Who said nothing exciting ever happens on weekday nights?