Chapter Twenty-Three
Oz manoeuvered his van around the pools of light cast by the streetlamps in the shopping mall parking lot, driving slowly to keep the noise of the engine at a minimum. When Giles caught sight of a pair of figures struggling in the shadows, Oz gunned the motor, bringing the van to a screeching halt next to the vampire and its victim.
Giles and Oz jumped out of the van, brandishing crosses. The vampire bolted.
Before Oz could give chase, Giles told him to look after the victim and ran after the vampire himself.
The vampire escaped towards a parking garage, and up the ramp at the entrance. Giles caught up enough to take aim with his crossbow, and shoot the vampire in the leg. It fell.
Giles jogged over to his quarry, switching his crossbow for a hatchet from his messenger bag.
In life, the vampire had been a man in his thirties, prematurely balding, with over-developed biceps. Now it writhed on the ground, skin ghastly and pale in the sickly light of the garage, struggling to pull the bolt from its leg. Giles swung his hatchet and lopped off the vampire's arm, right below the elbow. Before it could scream, he stepped on its throat.
"You've still got three limbs," Giles said. "You can keep them if you tell me about the Master."
He eased the pressure on its neck.
The vampire cradled his stump to his chest and whimpered in confusion. "What?"
"Where does he spend his time?" Giles prompted.
"At the Bronze?"
"Where does he hunt?"
"He doesn't," the vampire said. "His lieutenants bring him kills."
"Who are they?"
"Used to just be Luke," it gulped under Giles' shoe. "More and more, Willow and Xander."
Giles nodded. "Tell me about the Bronze."
Suddenly, the vampire swung its good arm, and swept Giles' feet out from under him.
Giles hit the pavement, while the vampire leapt up and fled.
It ran straight into Oz. The boy shoved the creature into the wall, and held a stake to its heart.
Aching, Giles climbed to his feet.
"Answer the man's question," Oz said calmly.
Giles concealed his surprise as he approached. He hadn't told Oz that he'd been interrogating vampires.
"I don't know!" the vampire sputtered desperately, voice echoing off the concrete walls. "It's where we live?"
"And the Master?" Giles asked, "Where does he live, exactly?"
"Backstage."
"How many guards?"
The vampire shook it head as much as it could in its position. "He doesn't need guards, he's the Master!"
Giles rolled his eyes. "So during the day, when he sleeps..."
"The Bronze never sleeps." In spite of its situation, the vampire managed to snigger. "There's always a party going on."
Oz's grip tightened on the stake, he began pressing it into the vampire's chest.
It's demeanour changed immediately. "I swear, I'm telling you as much as I can!"
"One more question," Giles said. "What's coming next?"
The vampire looked bewildered.
Giles elaborated, "Taking over the motel, killing Amy and the mayor, attacking the mall – these things were planned in advance. There's a method at work. Someone had to know beforehand. So, what's next?"
"I don't know! I swear, I'm not important, I'm nobody, you can let –"
Giles caught Oz's eye. Oz plunged the stake into the vampire's heart.
The vampire's would-be victim was a retail worker who had taken a bit too long to close up. Oz drove him home. He watched until the man disappeared safely through his front door, and then said to Giles, "You're gonna need to give me some context for what just happened."
"What do you mean?" Giles evaded.
"Well, it looks like you're planning to attack the Bronze without telling any of us."
"I'm not planning anything."
Oz gave him a skeptical look.
Giles sighed. "Not yet. I just want to know if there's a chance."
"To get at the Master?"
Giles shrugged and nodded.
"Sounds like a suicide mission," Oz said evenly.
Shaking his head, Giles said, "It's a chance to risk our lives for something worthwhile, and put an end to all this."
"Again... suicide vibe."
Giles wondered how Oz could be so cautious, when he'd been so adamant about patrolling before. Perhaps what he was suggesting was truly unachievable. Giles tried to imagine what his reaction would be if one of the children had proposed the same thing.
"I wouldn't go into anything blindly," Giles finally said. "And not without your – all of your – assent."
Oz nodded thoughtfully. "You talked to Ms. Calendar about what you haven't been planning?"
"Not recently."
"What'd she say?"
"She avoided the topic," Giles admitted. "But that was when she was working on the curse."
Oz nodded again, and shifted the van into drive. "I'll bring it up with the gang."