Disclaimer: Hey, guys, look

Disclaimer: Hey, guys, look! I'm making soup! Seth and El Ray are owned by Tarantino and Rodriguez. Sands is owned by Rodriguez. Blackheart is owned by Marvel Comics. Alex Tully is owned by Fox, although they don't seem to want him. I do own Xanny, Augusta and Marcos. And that's it.

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Twenty-One: Storm

Agent Sheldon Jeffery Sands pulled up in his car, got out, and went to the trunk. Slowly, the occupants of the church came out – Seth first, followed on his heels by Alex, then Augusta, and finally, Marcos.

"Flame throwers," Sands said, pulling out some complicated twisted piece of metal that looked something like a gun but not quite. "Crossbows. Gasoline. Holy Water, although I figured there'd be more in the church. And holy metals for all of us."

Augusta walked closer, her feet making light scuffing noises on the packed sand. She went right up to Sands, and he paused in his unloading to look at her. Then, without explanation, she pulled back her fist and clocked him across the jaw.

Sands stumbled back a bit, more taken by surprise than hurt, as Augusta was still pretty weak. He looked at her, eyebrows arched, but he didn't seem particularly angry. In fact, to someone who knew him, he would have seemed turned on. "What was that for?"

"For not warning me," she said.

"What was I supposed to say?" he asked. "'Don't go into the Titty Twister, there's a demon that lives there that wants to steal your soul?' Would you have believed me?"

She scowled at him. "It's still your fault," she grumbled, spinning on her heel and walking away. Sands slapped his sides with his leather-gloved hands in mild frustration.

Seth came forward, alarmed at Augusta's greeting of the agent. He scowled at Sands. "What do you expect us to do with all of this?"

"Vampire slayers? Slay some vampires maybe?" Sands said. "Bullets don't do much good, as I think your new friend found out." He glanced at Alex.

"Even when they're dipped in holy water," Alex confirmed. "Slows them down but doesn't stop them."

"Yeah, I knew that already," Seth said, looking at the contents of Sands' trunk. Something metallic caught his eye, and he reached in, lifting up what could only have been a katana sword. He shook his head. "It's not a good idea, not with the priest and the monk gone."

"A priest, a monk and an ex-con go into a bar," Augusta muttered. "Sounds like a bad joke."

"So you're taking orders from a priest now?" Sands taunted. "I thought you had more sense than that, Gecko."

Seth looked ruffled. He was an easy man to rile. "I don't take orders from anybody," he snapped, his hand around the katana's handle, nearly brandishing it.

Sands smirked. "Prove it."

"What, and take orders from you?" Alex countered, knowing where this was going – he'd had Seth's number from pretty much minute one.

"I'm not giving orders. I'm providing an opportunity," Sands said coolly. He looked to Augusta. "You think Blackheart is going to take losing you lightly, Augusta? He went after Xanny, not once but twice."

"You knew about the second time?" Alex asked, startled.

"There was a second time?" Augusta said, and she paled.

"Of course I knew about it," Sands said. "But now that he's been hit in his pride, he's going to be twice as dangerous. And if the priest and the monk are already at the Titty Twister," he said, turning to Seth, "then you're not going without them, you're going to meet them. It's pretty simple."

"Hang on a second," Marcos said, coming to the forefront. He walked up to Sands and met his eyes, straight on. "What exactly is your interest in this, Sheldon?"

None of them had heard Sands addressed by his first name before – he had explicitly told them all to call him Sands. Alex, in particular, noticed how Marcos had the ability to take control of the situation, and had no compunction with staring down a prickly character like Sands.

"Getting rid of a demon isn't interest enough?" the agent replied icily.

Marcos shook his head. "You're C.I.A. You do things for very specific reasons. Security outside the U.S. equals security inside. So what's the angle? You think this business is a threat to more than just this little trio of towns?"

"Damn straight I do," Sands said without hesitation. "A demon lord running around loose this close to the border? Excuse me if that makes it a Central Intelligence matter."

"And you believe in this stuff," Marcos said, although without scorn. It was a statement, not a question.

"I believe in whatever gets the job done."

"So your faith is for sale," Marcos finished. He shook his head. "Kind of explains why the holy men left us all behind, didn't they?" He looked behind him. "Former bank robbers, concubines, wall-street wolves, and…" he glanced at Alex. "Well, whatever you are. We're not much good against a demon and his vampire lackeys, are we?"

Augusta, who was very pale, shook her head. "If Xanny went in there…I can't let her face it alone. I'll go."

Seth jumped, looking at Augusta. "You're not going anywhere without me," he said.

"If it's for Xanny, just give me a crossbow and tell me where to point," Alex said, and he tossed Marcos a mildly challenging look.

"Ditto," Marcos said, although he sounded defeated. "Well, you got us, Sheldon. Just show us where to sign on the dotted line."

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"No, no, no…this isn't happening," Xanny muttered as she saw the two cars pull up, one with Sands and Marcos in it, the other with Alex, Seth and Augusta. They stopped on either side of her bike, flanking it, and started to pile out. They were armed with weapons like medieval warriors – swords, crossbows…and was that gasoline?

Marcos reached her first. "What are you doing out here?" he asked.

"What are you?" she returned, noticing how he wasn't walking completely upright, but still favoring his left side. She turned to Augusta. "You shouldn't be here. None of you should be. You have to go back."

"We're not going back," Seth said, and Xanny's jaw nearly dropped to see that he was carrying a katana. "The monk said we had to destroy the Titty Twister. Well, we're going to." He lifted up one of the strange metal weapons that Xanny recognized as some kind of flame thrower. "What do you think, Sands, from the top down?"

"Sounds best," Sands agreed, carrying the small tank of gasoline. He handed one to Alex. "Start pouring over whatever you can reach. And reach high. We want to soak as much of the walls as we can."

Xanny wanted to panic, but grasped herself internally with both hands. Panic wasn't going to help. She had to be rational. She spun on her heel, ignoring the calls of her sister behind her, and went around the building to find Fr. Mateo and Brother Malachi on the other side.

They had retreated to their car, and there was something like a campfire sitting beside it. Father Mateo was reading from a small black book, and it sounded like more Latin. Sitting in the middle of the campfire was something like a coffee tin, and inside it smoked heavy plumes of incense. It was being tended to by Brother Malachi, who then produced a wax candle that had various religious decorations down the sides. He lit the candle from the fire, and set into a wide-bottomed candle holder, where it sat on the sand, burning brightly even though it was full morning now, and the sun had completely risen. The heat was starting to come up off the sand around them, but it seemed that both the priest and the monk were completely cool and relaxed.

She couldn't speak when she approached them. She had the crazy urge to just throw herself down on her knees, but the thought of her friends – yes, all of them, even that god-forsaken Sands person – dousing the Titty Twister with gasoline and attempting to light it on fire made her insides twist and squirm. Something wasn't right here. Something was very, very wrong.

"They'll try," Brother Malachi said, looking up at her, reading her thoughts. "They won't succeed. Blackheart will not let his sanctuary crumble easily. And while the vampires fear the sun, he does not. It may cause him pain, but it will not destroy his vessel, as he does not inhabit a human shell, a corpse, as the vampires do. We must exorcise Blackheart from this place, and it will not be easy."

"They're in danger," Xanny said, her voice tight. "Aren't they?"

The monk seemed to consider this. "As long as they do not enter the Titty Twister, at least not freely," he said, "they should be relatively safe."

Xanny shook her head. "They'll want to go inside. I know Seth – he'll want to go inside to make sure they're all dead."

Father Mateo continued to pray in Latin. Brother Malachi straightened and took her hand. "Your job," he said, "is to make sure that they don't."

She nodded, understanding. She turned and went back toward the Titty Twister, whose walls were dark with the gasoline. Seth had just disappeared around the corner, and Xanny realized he was making gouges in the walls with his sword. Alex was on the other side, with another katana sword, doing the same, and Marco was examining one of the flame throwers. Sands seemed to be standing back from all of it, examining the situation, a crossbow leaning up against his leg. Augusta was beside him.

She first approached Alex, coming up to him and grasping his arm to get him to look at her. He seemed startled, but instantly noticing her anxious expression, he gave her his attention.

"Don't go inside," she said. "Whatever you go, no matter what happens, Alex, promise me you won't go inside."

"I won't," he said, but it didn't sound convincing.

"Not even if I get dragged in there, kicking and screaming!" she pressed. "Don't come help me! Whatever happens, you have to stay out here, you all do!"

He nodded, and his frown clearly told her it was a lost cause. "All right, Xanny, I hear you."

She walked away, almost pushing herself from him in frustration. She tried Seth next but he hardly listened to her. He slashed at the wooden flanks as if he were carving a piece of meat, and there was such a murderous look in his eye that she felt afraid of him, even now, after all this time.

Then she went to Marcos and repeated her message. Marcos almost laughed at her. "You think I want to go inside there, after last time?" he said. "No thanks."

"No, Marcos," she pressed, "even if I get dragged in there, or Augusta, you can't come rescue us."

"That's crazy, Xanny, I can't –"

"You've got bruised ribs and God-knows what else," Xanny said. "You remember what they did to you before – it'll be worse this time, they'll be angry because you got away. You have to stay out here. Promise me!" She grabbed the lapels of his shirt and shook him, making him wince, but she didn't back down. "Promise!"

He hesitated, and then said, "I can't."

Almost growling in her dissatisfaction, Xanny stormed away. Augusta was in front of her – Augusta would understand, she had been there, she had touched that evil.

Finally, she reached her sister and Sands, and they were aiming their crossbows up in the air.

"I did archery in college, got some awards," Augusta was saying, "but that was about hitting targets, not about poking holes."

"We need holes in the roof to let in the sun, that'll be the most effective," Sands was saying. "The fire will eat the rest, but we have to weaken them or else they may be able to put the fire out. I don't know how, but these bastards are nothing if not resilient."

Augusta shouldered the crossbow, aiming high, and then she realized that Xanny was there. "You're back!" she said, lowering the crossbow. "What were you doing? I couldn't keep up with you, you were practically running."

"Father Mateo and Brother Malachi are on the other side," Xanny explained quickly. "They're preparing something, I don't know what – they say that the target has to be Blackheart. You want to try and burn down the Titty Twister, fine – but whatever happens, you can't go inside it of your own free will."

"Fine here," Sands said without hesitation, and it was the first time Xanny believed one of them when they said it. It would have been Sands, the one she gave the least about, she thought bitterly.

"You think I want to go back in there?" Augusta said, and Xanny felt a giddy sense of relief – her sister did understand.

"Well, I can't seem to get anywhere with any of them." Xanny motioned behind her with a sweep of her hand. "They can't come after us if we get captured, and they sure as hell can't go inside to try and kill any vampires. It's too dangerous." She looked down at the crossbow in Augusta's hands. "You said you won awards in archery? Think you still have the skills?"

"Probably a few," Augusta said. "Why?"

"Because if any of the boys try to go inside the Titty Twister – you have to shoot them."

Augusta's eyes went wide. Sands let out a low whistle. "I always knew you were nuts," he muttered.

Xanny ignored him. "It's the best way I can think to make them understand." She picked up the crossbow at Sands' feet and loaded an arrow into it. "Not to kill, but in an arm or a leg, I don't care. I'd rather have them wounded than dead. Or worse, damned."

"Xan, you…you're serious?" Augusta said softly.

"Very," Xanny replied. "Gus, you have to trust me. You have to put some faith in me. I was told that we can't enter the Titty Twister of our own free will, but there's no saying that we won't get dragged in there. If that happens, we have to keep the boys from trying to save us. You and I will more than likely be the key targets, and they'll want to come after us. If that happens, we can't scream, cry for help, anything. Can you handle that?"

"It won't matter," Augusta said. "It won't stop Seth, and Marcos and Alex are both going to be wanting to prove themselves to you, men in their strutting and competing—"

"Gus!" Xanny near-shouted in her face. "Focus here! Keep back, as far as you can. Don't make yourself a target. And if you get captured, do what you have to, to keep them from coming to save you!"

"You know," Sands said in that utterly-annoying deadpan of his, "this is all a moot point, really. None of those things can come out in the daytime, and Blackheart can't touch you when you're wearing your holy medals, or whatever—" he reached over and pulled up the beads of Xanny's rosary, still sitting around Augusta's neck – "so you're worrying a whole lot for something that's pretty unlikely."

Xanny glared at him, and shook her head. "Your faith is for sale in anything that does you some good," she said, her voice low and cold. "Thin armor is easy to break."

Sands looked at her for a moment, sneered, and went back to the trunk of his car to produce another crossbow. "That looks good, boys!" he called to the other three. "Let's get this bonfire started!"