Chapter Ten
If things were going as they should, you would find Willow and Tara sitting in the Magic Box, surrounded by a circle of virgin's blood. Xander would be laid in between them with his hands slit open. Giles, though Willow wasn't aware, stood guard over her; prepared to intervene if she got carried away. Anya sat in front of her cash register counting and recounting her money, though she was supposed to be keeping an unyielding eye on Dawn, who was fixated on the ritual before her. The ritual is specific and must be done at the very right second, Blythe said. You two will have to connect telepathically to know when and where to strike. The very second we crush a medallion, you must forge the bond; not a second before or a second after. I've had a couple of... friends keep eyes on my little family for quite some time now; they've learned nothing from past mistakes. Once we establish a connection with one, we will find them all.
They found the first at a bar Spike frequented to play poker; the bar he had first met Abel. The few that sat within paid him no mind, their inhuman eyes focused on their drinks. Blythe followed behind him, a ferocious snarl erupting from her throat at a figure sitting at the bar.
"Blythe," he said, finishing off his drink. "Oh, how I have missed that beautiful face."
"Heath," she growled.
He turned to face them, a confident smirk on his face. Buffy was shocked; she had expected an old man, but this boy was no older than nine. She glanced at Blythe, who's face held no shock or surprise at the beautiful young face. He smiled, but their was no evidence of happiness in his face; blackened veins showed from under his skin and the entirety of his eyes were consumed by darkness. A rounded piece of gold hung from his neck, and she could feel Tara and Willow stir within her head. "Abel said you sided with a Slayer, but I just couldn't find it in my self to believe it."
"You always did say I was selfish," she said, her fists clenching.
"You are nothing but a disgrace!"
Blythe dove towards him so fast that there was a pause before Buffy and Spike joined her. The demons around them didn't even give them a second glance; bar fights were more regular than drinking was in that particular bar. They struck the ground with a crash, Blythe digging her claws into his eyes. Buffy flinched at the child's cries and blood shot into the air, a warm drop landing on her cheek. "My baby," Blythe cooed, licking the blood from his face. "You underestimate how much of a disgrace I can really be." She lifted his body to the bar and ripped the medallion from his neck, thrusting it into Spike's hands.
He threw a hand blindly out in front of him, catching Blythe's ear with a crack, "You left me! You know how they are and you left me!"
She smirked, shaking the ringing from her ears, "Good thing I'm going to kill them too." Her hands plunged into his chest, ripping the small heart from within. "Now!" she called. Buffy jumped, grabbing the medallion from Spike's hand and snapping it in half. Heath's face and body began to change slowly, each year passing through his face until finally he was nothing but a pile of dust.
"Wow," Buffy said, her eyes wide. "That was..."
"Easy," Spike finished, dragging a finger through the dust.
Blythe shrugged, tossing the heart into the small bag at her side. "I wasn't expecting anything more; Heath was never a fighter."
"You did not just put that in you bag," Buffy scoffed.
"Black market," Spike smirked. "Right?"
Willow and Tara breathed deeply, the shared power surging through there veins. They stared at each other with black eyes, the only conversation happening within their minds. Xander was unconscious before them, every drop of his energy being spread as a shield over them.
We found one, Willow's warped voice rang throughout Spike, Buffy, and Blythe's heads. There's lights and lots of people.
"The Bronze," Buffy nodded.
"We used Pyramus as our muscle; he took care of the things we didn't want to bother with."
"Should we be expecting another toddler?" Spike smirked.
"Expect a man who can kill you with his hands just as easily as with his mind; he can do stuff I've never seen."
"Please, I've fought worse than some stupid witchy-boy." He flinched at the loud Spike! that rang throughout his head, "Sorry, Red."
By the time they arrived at the club, it was late; the older crowd had already arrived and the music was playing loud. Look up, Tara whispered. Doing as told they were told, they found a couple dancing on the balcony.
"He'll know we're here, but he doesn't know we're together; let's split up." Buffy and Spike nodded, crossing to the back of the room while Blythe went directly up the stairs. As she approached, Pyramus smirked at her from over the girl's shoulder, running his hands over her body. She pulled her away from him roughly, sliding into her spot in his arms. "Feeling desperate?" she said, looking back to the angry girl that was stomping away.
"What can I say? My best girl goes berserk and I do too."
She laughed, "Well, I wouldn't want some little tryst with my brother get in the way of us."
"Really?"
"No," she shrugged, pushing his body across the room. His black eyes shot up at her and pain bled from every single pore in her body.
Buffy and Spike arrived just as she fell to the floor. "Shit," he muttered.
Buffy dove at his back, pulling a dagger from inside her jacket. Just as the blade pierced his skin, time seemed to stop and the music faded; everyone in the Bronze disappeared. "I knew I smelt a Slayer," Pyramus growled, ripping the blade from his back.
"I'm trying this new shampoo," Buffy said, running at him again. Her fist cracked across his jaw and he flew down to the floor. His eyes came up to meet hers, the air around her catching fire. It's all in your mind, Tara soothed. Just get the medallion. Buffy got awkwardly to her feet, hoping to distract him while Spike grabbed him from behind, throwing him over a table. Blythe grabbed a dagger from the bag at her side, sweat beading on her forehead from the pain. She managed to get the dagger in shoulder, the pain temporarily subsiding enough to bring her to her feet. Buffy crawled to him, running her hands over his chest to find the medallion. He caught her by the arm just as her fingers brushed over the metal, "What do you think you're doing?"
She smirked, closing her hands over the medal, "My job." The metal broke easily in her hands and she toppled over on a pile of dust. The noise returned to the room as did the crowd, leaving the three of them breathing heavily on the floor.
"I liked the first one better," Spike gasped.
"Well, this is unexpected," Buffy said, staring up at the lit up mansion before them.
"My brother and I have an affinity for foreclosures," Blythe shrugged.
"Should we be expecting him anytime soon?"
"I'm not picking up his scent, he'll probably be out for the night."
He's somewhere downtown, Willow said.
The group approached the house silently, opening and closing the door behind them cautiously. Blythe gestured at the ceiling above them. He's performing some kind of spell, Willow said. Something big. If you're quick, he won't even see you coming.
Without a second thought, the group raced up the stairs, bursting through each door they saw. Buffy was the one to find him; he faced away from the door, surrounded by a red powder. "Well, he sighed. "I've never dealt with a Slayer face to face."
"So maybe you should turn around," she countered.
"Don't go near him," Blythe warned. "He was expecting us."
"Or I'm just paranoid."
"Enough of the chit chat!" Spike roared, hurling a chair at him. It broke midair, the pieces flying back at them.
"How did you not expect that?" Buffy grunted, pulling herself from the floor.
He rolled his eyes, impatience picking at his nerves. "I'm not waiting for this bloody git to come out of a stupid circle."
Exstinguo et exarmare, Willow whispered.
Willow, stop.
Her voice grew louder in their heads over and over until they couldn't tell whether it was just in their thoughts anymore. The warlock turned to face them angrily, blood falling from his black eyes, "That is a very talented warlock you've got working for you."
Buffy grabbed a broken piece of chair from the floor hesitantly throwing the makeshift stake at him, piercing the center of his chest. "I think you mean witch."
"Very nice," Blythe smiled. They dashed towards the elderly man with their makeshift weapons at the ready as he pulled the wood from his chest. His reflexes were slowed but he was still able to pull a strip of lightning from his fingers, the bulb striking Buffy in the chest. She gasped, falling backwards as Blythe and Spike landed on top of him. Spike struck him in the face, bringing his fangs down to his neck. Blythe held him back, "Go to her."
He stood slowly, shaking the demon from his face and falling back to the floor beside Buffy. "Holy shit," she breathed.
He laughed, examining the wound on her chest, "You alright, love?"
She nodded, "I just need a minute." After a moment of hesitation, he kissed her forehead and she had to swallow the guilt that swelled in her gut again.
"Don't," she whispered. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."
"Goodbye, Zachary," Blythe said, taking the cold metal in her hand.
He smiled, lying back in his circle. "You were the biggest mistake I ever made. You and that whore of a mother."
Rage rose to her fingertips, forcing the medallion through his forehead before breaking it off within him. "She sends her love."