(I'm at the end of term for college right now, so I'm a bit pressed for time. Updates will continue to come at unseemly hours of the night, but hopefully they'll come quicker as school winds down and I head into Spring Break. Thank you for your views and your reviews! Please keep them coming. It's fun to hear back from you guys. Now, on to the fight!)
Chapter Four: Hell of a Fight
"Remind me again," Giles said, grunting as he slammed his fist into the leathery face of a demon that was trying to bite his hand off in the process, "about that clause you mentioned earlier?"
"You can do the 'I Told You So' dance after we get out of here," Buffy snapped back, taking two demons by their heads and colliding them together with almost comical affect. They stumbled back, one falling, the other walking on three legs as it gripped its new concussion welt with the fourth. They didn't seem to be getting anywhere. For every demon they triumphed over in hand to hand combat another one stepped forward, and it was soon apparent that the ones they knocked down didn't stay that way long. They just got back up and went to the back of the line, waiting for their next turn at the intruding duo.
Neither had any viable weapons left to them. Their stakes were spent, all heavy objects within grabbing range already used and throw away by the demons, or protruding from their calloused flesh. Giles even used a pocket knife he had not remembered bringing with him, slitting a demon's throat only to have it laugh at him and spit the blood it was drowning in into his face. That only prompted the Watcher to pull the cloth he used for cleaning his glasses out and stuff it into the demon's mouth.
Buffy was having a bit more success, as far as making lasting damage. Though none of them seemed willing to die, she broke more bones and smashed more muscles than her older male counter part could manage. The demons were no less deterred, and seemed to be drawn to her impressive power. They fought viciously, one on top of the other, some hurting themselves or each other in their wild effort to get to her. The scales weren't balanced, Giles fighting a fraction of the horde, and often having to grab a demon to get its attention off of his Slayer. An action which he never failed to regret. The two managed to close their ranks, standing back to back as the demons, all looking the worse for wear yet showing no signs of stopping,
"Are you okay?" Buffy asked, not looking back at him. He was leaning back on her heavily, but she supported him without complaint. His scoff was enough of an answer. Frowning, the Slayer looked around. There had to be some way to escape. Unfortunately she only saw things that made their situation seem even more dire. Like the fact that they had been herded into the center of the warehouse, far from the entrance, and the demons were not wantonly surrounding them, but in ranks. The large demon was looming close, watching impassively from a small distance. She knew there was a cue it was waiting on.
She just had no idea what it was.
"We must escape," Giles said breathlessly, not having anything useful to fill the silence with. The obvious statement fell on deaf ears. Buffy watched the large demon, knowing it had to be the Queen they had been pondering. Not a vampire, that was for sure, and the gender hardly seemed to matter now. It was big, ugly, and covered in dangerous looking spikes that she could imagine were not just decorative. It had large claws and threatening, dark eyes, with skin that looked even thicker than the hive minded minions. It met eyes with her, and, though its face was grotesque, she could see it sneering. She scowled challengingly and it moved toward them.
"Whoops," she said, pursing her lips. Giles turned, looking over his shoulder in confusion and concern. His eyes followed her stare and his jaw fell as the large demon parted the ranks and moved toward them. Giles turned, standing now directly beside the Slayer. Though he was much taller than the girl next to him he was not spared from having to tilt his head up to keep his eyes on the demon's face. Both humans swallowed hard.
"Have we tried running yet?" The Watcher asked.
"Nope."
"Let's do."
"Good idea."
They turned in unison and charged for the door, swinging punches with all their might to barrel their way through the line of demons. Their panic almost paid off, the demons giving way before them and actually granting them a few good feet of hopeful strides toward the entrance. Then the demon let out an ear splitting screech and Giles felt his legs turn to jelly. He hit the ground hard, hands over his bleeding ears, yelling with the sound. Even Buffy stumbled, her hands instinctively flying to her head, and she blindly fumbled a few steps before stopping and whirling around. The Queen was shockingly fast. It had her by the neck before her senses returned, crushing her windpipes and hoisting her off the ground with absolutely no effort.
The Watcher allowed his instincts to take over, his need to protect his Slayer driving him to his feet. He leapt onto the demons back, grabbing wildly at its face as he latched on to it. His fingers groped uselessly at the Queen's face, bloodied nails clawing at its eyes and mouth. It had no nose, but he imagined he would have gone for that, too. The demon let out a different sound, an angry bellow, and dropped the Slayer, reaching behind it to try to rid itself of the pest on its back. Buffy was quick to seize the opportunity, tackling the Queen low on its midsection, since that was really the only area she could reach.
Off balance, the three of them fell into a heap of thrashing limbs and grunts of pain and exertion. Giles rolled from the fray, holding his left hand close. The demon hadn't taken too kindly to the intrusion of fingers, however accidentally, into its mouth and did what came naturally, leaving Giles with a bleeding palm. Its teeth were small, and the Watcher imagined he now knew what it would be like if he were bitten by a shark. The Queen was roaring, in pain or frustration neither human could tell, and it hauled itself to its feet, throwing Buffy a good ten feet before her feet even touched the floor. She skidded to a stop, blinking as she found herself not only upright, but well supported.
"Looks like I showed up for a party," a familiar British accent intoned almost whimsically. She saw Giles still on his knees near the Queen, some distance away. Blinking again, head muddled from the fight and the abuse of the screeches, she slowly realized that it was not her Watcher who had caught her. "You stay here, I'll get the old man."
The peroxide blonde vampire charged forward, long black duster billowing behind him as he picked up speed and closed the distance between himself and his new enemy in a matter of seconds. It was turning its attention to Giles, lifting its clawed hand high, but Spike made sure it never completed the attack. Jumping, almost missing, Spike caught the arm and pulled it back with all his might, hearing something snap. Though he was new to the fight it was a very satisfying sound. The Queen hardly seemed to notice, swinging around with its other arm and backhanding the vampire with bone crushing force.
As he stumbled back he began to think helping them really wasn't worth it. Not the best way to spend his night.
Giles, still reeling, looked around. The demon minions were all stationary, watching the fight but not offering any help. He understood that the queen must have ordered them to stand down, and had not yet decided they should rejoin. Or maybe it was just too distracted to issue the order. Either way, Giles saw an opportunity. He was barely on his feet when he moved, half dragging himself toward the line of demons. He found the one that had his pocket knife imbedded in it and, risking getting close, he pulled the blade free. It, remarkably and yet exactly as he had hoped, did not move to slaughter him.
The left-handed Watcher gripped the small blade in his bloodied hand, Turning and taking a breath. Spike seemed to have things in hand, and he needed a moment to refill his lungs before charging back into battle. Besides, Spike was a vampire. The undead could last a lot longer than humans could in a fight, if they knew what they were doing.
Spike, however, had no idea. He was just expecting to jump in, save the day, and then get the hell out of there. He didn't want to hang out with the demons, and he certainly didn't want to tango with the Queen, alone on the dance floor. And yet here he was, blocking devastating blows with his arms and punching at skin that he imagined would work brilliantly as a shield. Still, he kept his footing and engaged the Queen valiantly, not backing down and doing his damned best to bring the thing down. It never presented a weakness, though it appeared to be bleeding from the corner of its crooked mouth. Taking that as a good sign, Spike turned one of the Queen's strikes to the side and countered with a powerful punch to its midsection, right where he imagined its breast bone might be. Either it did not have one or he was bad at demon anatomy, because the attack only sent it back a step.
There was a beat, It looked at Spike, enraged. He looked at it, concerned. It roared at him, revealing rows of ugly, little teeth inside a surprisingly large mouth, and he grimaced at how ugly it was. No fear struck his unbeating heart, and the Queen seemed to take even more offense to this. It charged, stabbing its clawed hand forward as if it were wielding a sword. Spike snarled, grinning, and caught the arm, wrenching it sideways and using the Queen's own momentum against it. It stumbled forward, its shoulder rotating outside the normal range of a socket joint as Spike stepped back and around it. There was a sickening sound as it fell to one knee, pulling against the hold like it would rather rip its own arm off than be pinned. Buffy, recovered, grabbed hold of the other arm, wrenching it back and locking it in a firm grip, the two standing so close they could almost make the Queen's wrists touch.
And then suddenly it lurched backwards, pulling what were now clearly not broken and useless arms, as Spike had imagined it would be, forward as it throttled back. Spike was torn from his footing, launched forward like he was on the business end of a whip. He lost his grip and was sent crashing into a wall far across the room, near the entrance. Buffy joined him soon after, falling heavily on top of him, and Giles seized his opening to attack the demon again. He focused his strength and jabbed his little knife into the demon's side, expecting it to glance or break off against the thick leather skin. Instead it bit into the flesh, drawing blood that was a dark, almost purple black. It oozed over his hand, burning as it seeped into the teeth wounds. The Queen and Giles both yelled in pain, the Watcher stumbling back and just barely missing a violent swing of the Queen's fist, dodging completely by accident as he fell to his bottom.
Buffy and Spike ran forward while the demon was busy trying to use its clumsy, large claws to remove the little knife. They both seized hold of the Watcher and the three of them beat a hasty, limping retreat to the door. The monsters didn't follow. Taking their chances, the Slayer and Vampire burst into a run the moment they passed outside, the Watcher barely able to keep up with them and yet forced to by their holds on him. A distant, though still piercing, screech told them they would soon have company. Five or six beasts charged after them, very nearly catching them before coming to a sudden stop.
Giles stumbled and fell, breaking free of them and skinning his knees on the floor. Wincing, he looked behind him, concerned that he was about to be mauled, and spotted the demons prowling as if they were barred by some invisible fence. The Watcher stood slowly, taking a step toward the monsters. They growled at him dangerously, clearly wanting to rip his limbs off to use as toys. Already comfortable with their inability to attack, going by what had happened inside, he moved toward them. It was different this time. They definitely wanted to murder him, but it seemed like they were physically unable to draw any closer to him.
"How fascinating…" he said, drawing precariously close. He spoke through exhaustion, babbling, "it seems they're leashed, in a way, to that warehouse. That certainly marks it as the hive. Not that the interior threw that into question. The queen, what ever it is, must have been…" he bent closer to the demons, taking a good look at them now that he felt safe to do so. He made mental notes of everything, having left his notebook in his car, trying to find any particularly clear indications of what kind of summoning had created them. The demons jerked suddenly, as if reacting to some unseen prompt, and lunged at him viciously, inexplicably able to move forward about a foot. He was knocked back, a claw finding his arm but just managing to rip through the fabric of his jacket before he was literally thrown back and out of harms way by Spike.
He stood over the Watcher, looking impatient. Buffy drew close, offering the other human a helpful hand. Sitting on his butt, Giles looked up at Buffy sheepishly, "Fascinating." He took her hand with his right and she helped him to his feet. The three looked at each other, each one looking battered and drained. Spike scoffed and took a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it and taking a long drag of it, before looking back at the demons. He wasn't as interested in their inability to get closer as Giles was. All he knew was it meant they didn't have to fight any more, and that was nice. His shoulder was aching. He hadn't even bothered to take stock of what injuries he had accrued in his noble endeavors.
"I think we've over stayed our welcome. This lot looks ready to skin us alive. I don't think we should wait around for them to get the chance."
"Agreed," Giles groaned, rolling his shoulder back. His hand was burning mercilessly, but he knew the others were probably suffering with their own injuries and he didn't call attention to it. Hands in the pockets of his torn and frayed jacket, he nodded, "we should… meet up with the others. I'm sure we must be late now. A wonder they didn't come looking for us, as Spike did."
"I didn't," Spike said indignantly, "I was following a lead and saw you two had already screwed it up. There was a nice idea of 'the element of surprise' floating in my head, but you-"
"Where did you come from, then? Your timing is impeccable, for not planning to save us."
"You're welcome, I'm also so glad to offer my services, free of charge, because the gratitude is always so deep and sincere. Really, truly touching stu-"
"How did you know where we were, again?"
"If you cut me off one more tim-"
"Guys," Buffy separated the dueling children, sending them to their corners with stern glances. Giles turned away, looking at the demons again, and Spike growled once the Watcher's back was turned. Buffy sent him a second glare and he raised his hands in defeat.
"Fine. Are you okay, then," he paused, then added pointedly, "Buffy?"
She nodded. She had taken a few too many blows, her chest feeling like it was about to cave in. Her knuckles hurt from smashing her fists against so many solid, leathery faces, and her ears were still ringing. She looked at Spike, finding some strange solace in the blood that was running down the side of his head, and the way his shoulders sagged despite his efforts to look tough. She noticed Giles was favoring his left hand, though he was also putting on a brave face. No one, it seemed, wanted to be the one to whine about the beating they had just received. Mostly likely because none of them were willing to admit this night was a defeat for them.
The Slayer, however, felt guilty. She knew the shock would wear away and her Watcher would address her about her poor decision making. She didn't need him to tell her she should feel responsible for putting them all in unnecessary danger. Already growing irritated with him, without giving him a chance to actually be irritating, she shook her head and tried to focus on the vampire.
"Fine," she answered after a pause that was just a few moments too long. Spike watched her curiously, then nodded.
"You look like you could do with a drink," Spike observed, hoping to change the subject and maybe distract the Slayer for whatever thoughts were making her look like she wanted to kick something. And it wasn't just out of fear because he was standing closest to her. Though he couldn't admit it out loud, he didn't like seeing her on the verge of regretting something. He grinned and looked over his shoulder at Giles, then looked back at Buffy with a childishly devious smirk.
"If we hurry we can ditch the librarian before his magic-gasm fades over that 'invisible leash' he was droning on about. Hit a bar? Tend to some bruises? A nice night out, to wind down after a big fight." He wasn't legitimately asking her out. He was offering her a joke, a distraction, and he was putting himself on a wire. She looked at him for a long, quietly contemplative moment and he suddenly found himself fretting that she would take him up on his offer. He had no plan for that decision, thinking it completely impossible, and his mind reeled as it struggled to supply him with some kind of back up plan. The best it could come up with on such short notice was for him to leave when she turned her back.
Panic was not something the vampire knew how to deal with. At least not this particular brand of it.
She was already walking away before his focus returned to the real world. He followed her closely, just on her heels, and, after a long moment, Giles turned to make an observation only to find himself alone. He spotted them in the distance and, heaving a sigh, he followed slowly. The demons remained stuck behind, straining against their invisible restraints as their prey vanished into the night. They snorted and raised their heads, hearing a silent call from their master now that the intruders had gone, and returned dutifully to their nest.
Inside, the Queen finally removed the knife that had been so irritating. It held the little weapon up to its eyes, glowering at the mixture of red and purple that dripped from the worn blade.