The color drained from Dawn's face. "Ward the house?"
If there hadn't been so much at stake, Willow would have felt sorry for her. Despite Dawn's inclusion in the Scooby lifestyle, they'd been careful to shield her from as much of that reality as possible. Right now, though, they didn't have time for sympathy. "Alex wasn't mauled by a human, Dawn. We both know that. And, thanks to the Sunnydale trip, you and I are the only witches here right now."
"Right. Sorry." Straightening, Dawn nodded resolutely. "What do you need me to do?"
That was a very good question. There hadn't been much planning in regard to an attack on the ranch. "We'll tap into Mama's shields." Willow ignored the fact that doing so would weaken the wards around the exterior of the property. "Between the two of us and the power boost from the shields, I think we can protect the house."
The house… "Oh, Goddess. The girls are in the Training Barn." Willow took off for the living room. "Giles!" she called as she exploded into the room. "Giles!"
Her enthusiastic entry gained her a raised eyebrow and a dry, "I am right here, Willow, and I have not yet lost my hearing," from Giles.
"We have to get the Potentials back inside. If the First has vamps or Bringers in the woods…" Willow sucked in a deep breath to halt the incipient babble. "Dawn and I can't stretch a ward all the way to the Barn."
"I'm on it, Will. You and Dawnie start with the mojo," Xander ordered. "Cordy and I will get the girls."
Cordelia looked less than thrilled with Xander's idea as she shoved the book in her lap to the floor. "Great. I swear, the next time we have a Scooby reunion, I'm making the guest list." Mumbling under her breath, she followed Xander out of the room.
"How are you going to create the warding?" Fred had lost her shy demeanor. Frowning and still clutching a large book, she stared at Willow. "Given that the house is forty-two hundred square feet, not including the basement, I don't see how you can even think about covering the entire structure."
Now Willow understood the dazed and irritated looks she'd gotten from her friends for years. Without thinking about it, she answered forcefully with one of Buffy's favorite slogans, "I've got it under control."
Fred's eyes widened behind her glasses, and she seemed to shrink into herself. "Oh. OK. I just wanted to make sure you didn't drain yourself."
It was almost a relief when a window shattered in another part of the house.
"I don't think we have to worry about that warding, Fred." Looking around the room, Willow cursed the lack of weapons. Giles was already yanking the second axe from the wall, and there were no other displays or storage chests.
The lack of weapons became more than an academic concern.
The patio doors exploded inward in a shower of glass and broken wood, and a robed figure stepped inside. More Bringers pressed in behind the first one; in a solid line, they advanced.
Giles took up a forward position, cutting off their access to Willow and the other researchers. "If you have a plan, Willow," he called, "now would be the time to implement it."
Book firmly grasped in two hands as a bludgeon, Fred crowded closer to Willow. Dawn took up a similar stance.
Wishing she did have a plan, Willow let instinct take over. Energy tingled and tickled under her skin as she opened the access panel to her magic. She'd fused gravel. Taking out a handful of blind, knife-wielding Bringers shouldn't be any more difficult.
Blocking out Giles' grunts and curses as he fought, she reached deep into the shimmering pool of power deep inside. The memory of the inferno in the courtyard firmly in mind, Willow scooped out a handful of the magic and maintained the walls of her barrier.
Footsteps and shouts drifted into the room from the hallway.
Afraid there were more of the First's forces on the way, Willow hurriedly shaped the energy into a tight ball and hurled it across the room.
The Bringer slipping past Giles' swinging axe erupted into blue flames. Screaming, he staggered forward – and went down with a grunt as Fred finished him off with a wild swing of her text. He lay smoldering on the floor as his fellow Bringers continued to advance.
One down. Willow was afraid to count the number remaining.
Her Slayer senses continued to be a problem as the horde of vampires descended. Buffy tried shutting down the feelings as she blocked a sword thrust from one vampire and kicked another in the stomach.
The ploy didn't work. The warning cramps made just standing straight difficult.
Growling internally at the stupidity of that particular aspect of her Calling, Buffy grabbed the badly dressed vamp in front of her and hurled him several feet across the cemetery. She heard him grunt and the headstone that intercepted his flight crack.
None of her other attackers even slowed at the loss of their companion. They surged closer, and Buffy couldn't duck all the blows. Her head slammed into the mausoleum at her back and she blinked to clear her suddenly doubled vision.
The short sword proved to be a bad choice. Swinging with everything she had, Buffy hacked and slashed at the vampires. A few went down, injured but not completely out of the fight. Form and style disappeared as desperation and a primal need to survive took over.
During one such frantic parry and thrust, Buffy overextended. Stretched out and poorly balanced, she was an easy target.
With a howl of triumph, the vampire to her left stepped inside her guard. Buffy could see the lengths of the chain in his hand catch the moonlight as they swept in her direction.
Buffy's options were limited. Drop to the ground, making her an ideal target for the horde, or try to block the chain with her left hand, risking a broken arm.
The Slayer made the decision for her.
Reversing the usual process, the Slayer reached for Buffy, bridging the gap between the human host and the primal life force.
Buffy felt the change immediately. Her vision sharpened. Tombstones, the vampires, even the blades of grass stood in vivid contrast. In one fluid movement, she twisted and dropped her left shoulder down so her back was parallel to the ground and she stared at the stars.
The chain whistled over her chest and face, missing by a hairsbreadth.
Muscles responding on memory alone, Buffy grasped the chain in her left hand and wrapped it around her forearm.
The action pulled her attacker off balance. He took a staggering step toward her.
A growl burst from Buffy's throat. Using her right foot for leverage, Buffy swung her sword hand in a hard arc. The hilt slammed into the vampire's nose with a satisfying crunch.
He released his end of the chain with a howl. Hands pressed to his bleeding and broken nose, he faded back into the throng.
Now armed with a new weapon, Buffy regained her position against the mausoleum. Working both arms in tandem, she beat back or beheaded the vampires. Unbelievably, the numbers began thinning.
She might make it.
Letting that thought spur her tired and trembling body on, Buffy blocked a tree branch as it descended toward her head with her left hand and stabbed the holder of the club with her sword.
One more down – if not out.
"Buffy!" Angel's voice penetrated the grunts and curses of the vampires and Buffy's harsh breaths.
With a fierce smile, Buffy lopped off another head. "What took you so long? I mean, there was only that one vamp. You stuck me with all his teammates."
She saw his head above the last line of attackers. In full-fanged glory, Angel helped clean up the final few vampires. "I miscounted," Angel told her. He held Buffy upright as she fought for breath. "It wasn't one. It was more like fifteen."
"Sure. I believe you." Buffy slowly straightened. And then she frowned.
Angel saw her expression. "I don't feel any more. Do you?" Keeping one hand on her arm, he scanned the cemetery intently.
"No. No more vampires." Buffy looked around, too. "During the fight, the Slayer came out to play. She hasn't left." In fact, as she pushed at the primal presence, she got a very clear, "Just wait," in return.
The hand on her arm disappeared in a hurry, and Angel took a step away. "I'll just…wait over here while you argue with yourself."
Buffy didn't waste time explaining what was really happening inside her head. Instead, she listened to the subliminal directions from her Slayer.
Leaving Angel behind, Buffy wandered slowly through Restfield. One area, on the far side of the mausoleum, pulled at her. It wasn't a voice, or even a sound that drew her.
Something glowed under the sod and flowers decorating the front of the Adamson crypt.
She headed straight for that light. With each step, it grew brighter, and the pull strengthened until Buffy nearly vibrated from the not quite audible sensation.
When she reached the origin of the glow, Buffy dropped to her knees and began to dig through the grass with her bare hands.
The closer they got to the old high school, the more Faith felt the demons and vampires inside. "Looks like they got a party waiting for us," she announced softly.
"Can you tell how many?" Trust Gunn to get right to the point.
Faith strained to determine the numbers as they continued to run through the shadows cast by a nearby house. Her senses twisted and recoiled at the gathered evil ahead. "Fuck." She yanked away from the feeling. "No. Just trying to get a head count made me want to puke, though. Gotta be a lot."
"Wrong," Kirsten told her.
Flushing at the implied rebuke, Faith reached out again. She had to push past the crawling under her skin. It was like swimming in Jello. Faith could almost make out the different forms and figures in the basement. Then she lost her grasp on her senses, and it all slipped away. Hating the need to ask, Faith snapped defensively, "I know I ain't got your years on the job, Old Timer. Stop pointing that out and give us the info so we don't get our asses kicked."
She felt Kirsten's glare as the older woman replied, "There are twenty five, maybe thirty, vamps."
Faith felt the anvil on her chest shrink in size. "That's doable. Thirty versus seven. I'll leave a few for the rest of you," she promised with a smirk.
"Don't get cocky, little girl." Kirsten sounded grim as she warned, "The vamps aren't the problem – whatever's causing the fireworks on the radar is."
