Glancing at her watch, Tara winced. She was late. Not a good way to impress Althenea. She knocked on the front door to the Slayer House and waited. The House appeared normal. A wide covered porch stretched along the front of the building, and the yard was well maintained. The three-foot high white picket fence matched several other fences on the block.
The door opened, and Tara turned away from examining the yard. "Ellie! Good morning." Some of Tara's unease disappeared at Ellie's familiar face.
"Hey." Ellie's smile seemed forced. Her lips moved while her eyes remained dark with some unnamed emotion. "I'm glad you came by, Tara. Only…now really isn't a good time for a visit."
It didn't take a genius to realize something was wrong. Tara peered intently at Ellie. The other girl wasn't hurt. At least, not that Tara could see. "Ellie? Did something happen? Is someone hurt?" Everyone knew how dangerous Slaying was.
"No. Nothing like that," Ellie assured her. "What can I do for you this morning?" She didn't invite Tara inside. Whatever had happened, it was clear Ellie didn't want Tara inside the House.
Unfortunately, Tara wasn't there to simply say hello. "I'm here to see Althenea. She arranged the meeting last night."
"Oh. Um, OK." Ellie stepped back and held the door open.
The foyer was spotless. Gleaming hardwood floors contrasted with blue-painted walls. A staircase stretched up two more floors, a blue runner softening the continued wood theme. It was not at all the dark English gentlemen's club decorations Tara had half expected. The airy, light space didn't disguise the absolute lack of noise, however. Not even the UC-Sunnydale library early on a Sunday morning was this silent.
Ellie closed the door and gestured to an archway on the right. "Althenea's finishing breakfast on the patio. I'll show you the way." Her voice wasn't loud enough to be classified as a normal speaking voice; nor was it soft enough to be called a whisper. Yet it still managed to sound too loud.
Rather than reply verbally, Tara nodded and followed Ellie into a comfortable living room. Jennifer occupied one corner of a leather couch. Her arms were wrapped tightly around Raquel who huddled in her lap. Willow paced back and forth across the length of the room at a speed reminiscent of her mad dash across convention room the previous night.
Was meeting with Althenea really worth interrupting whatever was happening in the House?
Not one of the young women glanced up as Tara and Ellie walked through the room and down a narrow hallway. Several doorways lined the hall but Ellie continued to the far end and a pair of French doors. The doors led outside into a huge backyard, complete with a flagstone patio. Sunlight sparkled off a crystal-clear pool and hot tub on one side, and birds chirped in a stand of trees to the other.
Althenea sat at a shaded table with the remains of breakfast. When Ellie disappeared back into the house, Tara gathered her courage and strode across the patio. "Good morning," she said with as much sincerity as she could muster.
"Please join me." Althenea's manners hadn't improved with sleep. She regarded Tara sternly as she dragged the surprisingly heavy wrought iron chair from beneath the table and sat down. "I do not have much time, and there is much for us to discuss. Therefore, I will dispense with the pleasantries."
She hadn't already? Tara wondered.
"I am a Seer. When we met at the Social, I had a series of visions," Althenea announced.
Tara expected her to follow up with the details of what she'd Seen. Althenea fell silent, though. Refusing to fall into what she suspected was a carefully constructed trap, Tara turned her attention to a squirrel on a nearby branch. The squirrel intently studied a bird feeder hanging a few feet away. Tail held high, it sidled closer. One step. Stop. Three quick steps. Stop. With a final mad dash, it climbed onto the feeder and stuffed handfuls of nuts and seed into its mouth.
"You do not want to be a Dominant," Althenea said.
This was important enough for a vision? It required a Seer?Tara's left hand dropped below the edge of the table and gripped the fabric of her skirt tightly. "Why w-would you say that?"
"Don't trifle with me, child!" With surprising speed, Althenea reached across the table and gripped Tara's right hand. "You have power; power you hide. And your spirit is fractured. Cracked so deeply and deftly that it is almost broken."
If Tara had thought her legs would hold her up, she would have run from the patio and probably all the way out of Sunnydale. Althenea's words weren't shocking. Tara knew they were, in fact, true. That didn't mean she was ready to confront and overcome her issues.
"You do not hide because it is your choice. You hide because you are afraid." Althenea's grip was painful, yet Tara didn't pull away. She was frozen in place like a bug pinned in a display case. "Fear can be a great motivator. It can push you forward to avoid whatever darkness chases. Or it can send you cowering into a corner so dark and deep you can never escape."
Tara really wished there was a corner nearby. She'd willingly cower there until Althenea went away. Since that wasn't an option, Tara pulled her shoulders back and took a deep, calming breath. "I don't think this is any of your business."
A rusty chuckle emanated from Althenea. "You are not the first to say that. If your fears affected only your future, I would agree."
"Wh-what do you mean?" What had Althenea Seen? Couldn't she just get to the point? Tara knew few people in Sunnydale. Or she had until last night. She deliberately kept to herself so that friends wouldn't become leverage if her father found her. "Maxie and Trish. Are they safe?" Goddess, she'd never forgive herself…
"I will not tell you what the Goddess showed me. To share that Gift might influence your choices." Althenea released Tara's hand and patted it gently. "Your choices are your own, Tara. I merely give you food for thought. Events will soon challenge the comfortable place you have made for yourself. Lives depend on your decisions."
The sunlight slipping through the shadows did little to warm Tara. She shivered, cold all the way to her soul. "What else will you tell me?"
"Only that your past continues to shape you, child. And there are others who suffer as you do." For the first time, Althenea sounded approving of Tara. "Your goodness shines like a beacon. Trust your heart. It will never lead you astray. And do not be afraid to let others in. The world has its share of monsters, yet there are plenty of heroes, too. I believe you will be one of them."
Tara didn't know how to respond. Althenea saw her as a hero. A hero who could destroy lives with the wrong decision.
While Tara considered that, Althenea stood. "It is time for me to leave. I will instruct one of the girls to escort you home whenever you wish."
Sitting on her bed, back pressed tightly to the headboard, Faith heard the Retrieval Team coming for her. More than one pair of boots and the clink of chains. Her stomach threatened to revolt and her eyes burned. The sunny day outside, the freedom it represented, had never been so tempting.
A sharp knock interrupted called her back to reality. Ignoring the siren song of freedom, she walked shakily to the door and opened it.
"Slayer Lehane, your presence is required in the Punishment Room." The Retrieval Team member was the same one who'd dragged Faith from the bar last night. However, his expression held no obvious enjoyment of his task. "Please extend your wrists and submit to the judgment of the Council."
Giles, or more likely Quentin, hadn't been sure of Faith's submission. Four other uniformed goons stood at the ready in the narrow hallway. Faith wanted to provide them a reason for being there, but her arms and legs felt too leaden to fight. Instead, she raised her hands and held them (mostly) steady as the lead officer fastened a cuffs to her wrists. With quick, economical movements he attached a short length of chain to the D-rings on each cuff, binding her hands close together.
Faith's unsteady footsteps were in clear counterpoint to the sharp, rhythmic steps of her escort. There was no one else in the hallway. Not a single head emerged from an office or bedroom. No one witnessed Faith's march to her doom. The trip from her second-floor bedroom to the basement that seemed to last hours yet ended in seconds.
Janna stood in the small Punishment Room, and Faith halted just over the threshold. No. They couldn't use Janna. Why weren't they using a local Dominant like the other times? Someone impartial, someone Faith wouldn't have to see every day?
The nightmare continued as Janna read from the official Council decision document in her hand. Her voice became so much static. Faith couldn't follow the list of her offences. She was sure it was a long list. Giles had been sweeping things under the rug for a while. All of that would have come out once last night's trip to the bar got to the full Council. The static grew louder as Janna set a paddle drilled with two rows of holes and a thin, varnished cane on the table next to the spanking bench.
Dropping her pants and underwear and being fastened over the bench brought Faith out of the fog. She tugged on the stocks fastened around her neck and wrists. Pulled at the cuffs on her ankles and the wide strap wrapped around her waist. She was completely bound to the leather-padded bench. Yanking and attempting to wiggle free was futile. The bench had been spelled to hold against even a Slayer's strength. Panting in fear, Faith watched the curtain in front of her face slide back. The mirrored glass hid the identities of the required witnesses in the Audience Room but clearly reflected Faith's white, strained expression.
No, damn it. Faith wasn't going to let them see her fear or her pain.
Janna immediately tested Faith's resolve. The paddle landed with a solid crack in the tender crease where Faith's thighs met her ass. The burn was immediate, and as Janna waited to deliver the next blow, Faith felt the ache settle deep into her muscles. Dropping her head or hiding her face was impossible thanks to the design of the bench. Witnesses had to be able to see her expression; although the rest of her body was thankfully shielded from view. Faith clenched her jaw as the pain increased with each successive blow. She didn't bother to count. If the number climbed too high, it would only cause her to panic more.
Despite her best intention, Faith yanked harder and harder against the cuffs as the paddling continued. Tears streaked her face. The sight of them in the reflective glass infuriated Faith. She closed her eyes, the one small rebellion she could manage, and tightened her muscles against the pain. When this was over, she was out of here. She was leaving Sunnydale. The Council could kiss her battered ass because Faith was done dancing to their tune.
Faith's frantic breaths were loud in the small room when Janna paused to set the paddle down and picked up the cane. Its distinctive whistle split the air a heartbeat before Faith's choked off scream.
Janna knew what she was doing. Faith felt twin surges of pain with each strike of the cane, one immediately on impact and the next a few seconds later just before Janna finally lifted the polished yew rod from her ass.
Any hope Faith had of remaining stoic died. She lived and breathed nothing but agony.
The Retrieval Team had to lift Faith from the spanking bench when the punishment session ended. The officer in charge actually redressed her, and Faith couldn't muster the strength to shove his hands away or move out of his reach. Dangling in the grip of two other men, Faith faced Janna.
"The decreed punishment has concluded in front of witnesses. Each has signed a statement validating the required correction was administered. This information will be placed in your Council file, Faith." Janna's remote expression thawed. "It's over." She approached and gently pushed Faith's sweaty, tangled hair away from her face. "Please let us help you, fetiţă. We don't like to see you hurting like this."
Her advice and her touch weren't welcome. Faith managed to jerk her head away. "Don't fucking touch me," she snarled.
"We aren't the enemy, Faith," Janna said with apparent sincerity. However, with a weary nod, she stepped away. "Take her back to her room. I'll send one of the medical staff to meet you."
The birdsong was beautiful. Tara listened to the cheerful sound for a long time before standing. Althenea had, as she stated, given Tara many things to think about. The Slayer House wasn't the place to do that. Not in any productive way. Tara needed to be home, even if home was a cramped college dorm room.
Reentering the house, Tara started down the hall. However, before she went more than a few feet, one of the doors opened. A uniformed man stepped into the hallway. A second later, two more men carried Faith, who dangled between them with her arms over their shoulders. The Slayer looked terrible. Pale, eyes swollen with tears, face lined with pain. Her feet tried to find purchase on the floor but more often than not they simply dragged along the wooden boards.
As Tara watched, more uniform men emerged. Then a flood of others, including Buffy, Giles, and Janna. Tara didn't recognize the rest of the group. All of them appeared strained and somber.
One of the women glanced up and spotted Tara. Her face tightened nearly imperceptibly for an instant before she veered in Tara's direction. Giles trail a step behind. "You must be Tara," the woman announced in a clipped British accent. "Ru mentioned meeting you at the Social." Tara didn't realize she meant Giles until the woman reached back and stroked a finger over his collar.
"Lady Lydia." Tara held out her hand. Lydia's grip was firm yet quick.
"It is a pleasure to meet you." That was doubtful given the scene Tara had just witnessed. Lydia was only being polite.
Tara did her best to equal Lydia's manners. "I hope you weren't too unhappy with Mr. Giles' rescue of me last night." Tara hid her unease and desire to leave the House as best she could. "He was a true gentleman."
One of Lydia's eyebrows cocked and she turned her head to peer at Giles. "Really? Have you finally turned over a new leaf, Ru?"
There were lines of strain bracketing Giles' mouth, and his eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. All the life and energy he'd shown the previous evening was absent. "I only sought to follow your edict, my Lady, and placed the specter of my past away." His head dipped slightly.
The past was a common theme today. Tara eyed Giles closely. Had Althenea told him what she'd seen last night? He didn't meet her eyes; in fact, he and Lydia were in some sort of stare down. Tara's need to flee the house grew.
For once, her luck was good. "Forgive us, Tara." Lydia pulled her focus from Giles for a moment. "There has been a situation requiring our attention, and I'm afraid we are not able to be proper hosts this morning. Would you be terribly offended if Ru and I left you to wrap up some final details?"
Absolutely not. Tara shook her head and murmured, "No, I understand. Althenea arranged for one of the Slayers to escort me back to campus." Not that she had any plans to actually use an escort. It was broad daylight and Tara could do some strategizing during the walk.
"Thank you." Lydia took Giles' hand and they ducked back through the same doorway as before.