Chapter 48
Shot To The Heart
We find the gang in the small communal back garden. Tara crossed legged on the wall of the water feature, Giles standing beside her, chin in hand, pensive. Both are watching Cordelia and Willow having an animated, hissingly whispered argument.
"We all know him. He will run." Willow says. "This will guarantee his compliance."
"You don't know that." Cordelia counters, stabbing a finger at the ginger witch. "You know what I think? You and your new 'tude just want to torture him back for the whole kidnapping 'fluke' thing."
"Still? And newsflash, he kidnapped you too!"
"Who hasn't? The point is, Spike is an asshole. A soul or not, it won't make him good. It just gives him the choice to be. I should know. I spent long enough with Angel moping about it."
"Right now, he is an asshole and evil."
"Think it through, braniac- you are forgetting Angel spent years in angstville recovering from the combined trauma bomb of the curse. You do this, Spike may be no good for anyone for god knows how long." Willow stabs the air to make a point, but the point falls from her. She tightens her mouth and stabs her finger once more before retracting it.
"Ahh, Angstville, Tennessee " I say, fake fondly. "Stopped there on my road trip. Got the t-shirt. Good times."
All eyes fall on me and Faith. Faith and me? Faith and I. Excuse me, I am kind of too nervous right now for grammar. Faith and I. Look, there is much looking.
"Ready?" Tara says, sucking in enough of the tense air to somehow transform it into a smile. Faith grins, hands on hips. The front is back.
"Yeah. Had me a moment. Dealt… so… you're up Tinkerbell." Tara smiles sympathetically and pushes herself up off the edge of the fountain and loops her arm through Faith's.
"It's okay. This spell is actually super simple, my m-mom used it all the time. It's one of the first she showed me."
Faith smiles awkwardly at the blue haired witch leads us all back inside. I am surprised by the ease with which the two engage, considering what Tara told me about the long shadow Faith cast over her and Buffy's relationship. If each scooby could be labelled for the quality they most bring, she was the kindness, perhaps something we could all use a little more of. Even me. Still, I am grateful it is Tara performing the spell, not Willow.
So here we are again, in the living room. a chair, a magic circle and the dagger that caused so much trouble.
"So I gotta sit here, or…"
"Yes please. Or you can stand, but you will probably get a little nauseated and dizzy." Faith shrugs and sits down, one leg folded up underneath her, outwardly casual. Tara hands Faith a wooden bowl. "Okay so you are going to feel like you sorta want to barf. Don't resist. Just go with it, okay. We want it all out of you."
"I just puke out the curse?"
"Well… kind of… the curse's words are in your veins, in the blood, so it will be drawn into your belly and out the quickest way. Don't worry, it's pretty quick. Over in a second. Are you good?"
"Depends who you ask." Faith says. She places the bowl on her lap. Tara gives her an assuring smile and closes her eyes. I catch myself stepping back against the wall. Magic and me? Not friends.
"One important thing though Faith, everyone… don't break the circle or stop the ritual until it is all out of her. Curses can get all jumbly and leak out. Got it?"
We all murmer and nod. Faith's eyes fall on me and she gives me a wink. So then Tara begins to hum. It is soft at first, but grows more intense with each breath until mumbled words form. Faith sits watching her, one eyebrow cocked. Her eyes flick to me, this time her nerves are showing and I give her a smile. She returns it, before focusing back to the chanting witch.
Maybe it's my Slayer senses but I feel the change in the room, like the spaces between everything darkens and tightens. My spine lights up like fireworks and I shudder, seeing the gesture repeating on Faith. Her full lips are pursed, eyelashes fluttering rapidly. I see her right hand slip back from the bowl, fingers pressing gently against her abdomen. She lets out an uncomfortable grunt and swallows hard.
Willow's hand is on my arm, and I realise she is close by my side, and boy am I needing the offered comfort. I glance at my friend, finding even more comfort in the disinterested, apathetic way she watches. To her this is humdrum. Easy. Over in a sec.
But as soon as I relax, Willow's brow furrows and her fingers tighten. I turn to see Faith straining forward, neck muscles tense, jaw clenched, one hand is clutching at the chair, the other pressing hard into her belly.
To my horror, I see her pallid sickly flesh grey further, as what seems like ink crawls up her veins.
"Uh Tara?" I say. Willow steps between us.
"Don't break the spell. The curse will get spread to us." She warns. Then another nervous look over her shoulder at the scene. "That's… gee… quite a lot."
Faith is gasping now, a sickening noise issuing from deep within her. Her veins bulge and darken, the blackness crawling up and up, until it reaches her panicked face. Then, after I think she is gonna choke to death on whatever it is, this hissing silvery substance spurts from her mouth, filling the bowl in two great gushes.Faith's head rolls back and her arms go slack. She takes in a deep breath.
Tara stops chanting and steps back, seemingly satisfied.
"I am so glad I chose the polished wood over carpeting." Giles mumbles. Cordelia nods, staring at the scene with that familiar old sneer of disgust.
But then Faith spasms, and the bowl crashes to the ground, the quick silver like liquid spraying up, hissing and burning to ash at it contacts the invisible barrier formed by the magic circle. She spasms again, and tilts her head back, black veins once again appearing on her throat.
"There's more!"
"Help her!"
"Tara, keep it going!" Willow says, and Tara hurriedly returns to chanting, but she stammers through the next lines. Giles steps in, reading from a book in awkward sentences, words half remembered and translated on the fly. Tara is flustered, catching words from Giles, leading her into her chant.
Faith wretches hard, and the metallic stream comes again, filling the air with a screeching, unnatural sound that rakes across my nerves, like… a whispering from hell. Willow's unnaturally strong hand seizes me again. "No, Xan, if you interrupt the circle… it… it could do anything to us all, make us all... turn on each other... even kill."
I am shaking as I watch the girl I love clutching the chair, the dark metal flowing from her mouth and… god… so much is coming out now, how can she breathe?
"She can't." I say. "She can't breathe."
My body is swimming with the need to act.
My skin is crackling, and my nerves trickle like ice as the magic in the room amps up, and it takes all I can to nail my feet to the hardwood floor and not leap in to save Faith.
A sharp burst of something like ozone comes from the circle and the light bulbs shatter, leaving the room to the mercy of the shaking, shuddering candle light. The voices are loud now, but loud in my skull, not in my ears. Tara and Giles are shouting the chant, the words cutting through the strange sensations I am feeling, and I wonder if it is my Slayer senses or are the words leaking out, poisoning us all. Do I feel the urge to kill rising? How could I tell? Now that The Slayer is in me, that dark force… could I even tell? Could I...
A gunshot rings out, ear splitting close. My body turns to arctic rock for a moment before my heart roars into overdrive, sending me whirling around.
I turn to see the silhouette standing in the archway to the kitchen, gun raised to the ceiling, before it is levelled with deadly proficiency towards us. A Glock 22, .44 caliber with a 15 round capacity, which meant 14 rounds left after the warning shot (Thanks a bunch Ethan Rayne).
"Stop!" The woman yells in a raspy, panicked voice. "Whatever you are doing, stop! Let her go!"
The woman attached to the gun is familiar, mid 40s, with a stern, slender face and strong cheek bones. Her lower lip full, her upper thin and trembling, and in the juncture of her left cheek a mole. Her hair is dirty blonde with flecks of grey, pulled into a loose ponytail, strands falling disheveled around her face. The barrel of her mouth reminds me of Willow's… and… oh, I know her now. Esther Rosenberg. The so called FBI agent.
"I said stop!"
Tara's voice cracks but she keeps chanting. The gun is levelled at her.
"She cannot stop, it will kill the girl." Giles says, pulling himself directly in the firing line, arms outstretched, "please, I beg you, you must let her finish."
"Do it, or I will take you down." She says.
I should move. I could move. I could rush forward and take the gun before she could squeeze, couldn't I? I have Slayer speed... I could… oh god Buffy, so much blood. Buffy couldn't. The sound of Buffy's chest as she tried to breathe… I... Buffy…
"Please, listen to me." Giles says. "They are removing a curse, it can be deadly if-"
"So is lead. Step away. Last chance." The woman says.
"Screw this." Willow growls and, well, she just strides towards the agent, feet thumping against the bare wood. The next thing I know, two flashes in quick succession and terror flows through my veins. I watch in slow motion as Willow jerks and staggers, the shock of the bullets punching through her tugs back the fabric of her top into little tents before the string of blood stabs outwards.
Esther's face contorts in horror at what she has done, and in the moment her hands go slack and the barrel lowers, I finally will my body to move. I have the hot metal in my hand a moment later and fling the gun to the far wall.
"Oh my god, oh my god." She sobs, and I confess that moment of humanity is all that stops me from pouring out my revenge. She slides to her knees.
Willow is hunched over, still standing, hands at her sides. She then looks down at the holes in her chest.
"Ow." She says. "Also… ow." She then straightens up.
"Willow?" I say, mouthing the air like a landed fish.
"Pesky mortal wounds." She shrugs, and that realization flows hope through me. Willow will be fine. Because Willow is a werewolf.
The atmosphere in the room changes, and a burst of green light issues from the circle. Tara is in the circle, holding the limp form of Faith. I rush over.
"She's okay Lexi." Tara says, "she just fainted."
"It's out? It's gone?" Tara nods, and the burden of the girl is passed to me. I can feel the feverish waves of heat coming off her. "Faith? Can you hear me? Faith, please… "
Her watery eyes open, just a crack, and she draws in a ragged breath. A smile forms on her reddening lips as she focuses at me.
"You dork." She says, her voice a faint croak. I wrap my arms around Faith and press my face into the crook of her neck.
"How? How? I shot... What? What are you?" The agent scrambles back, disbelief in her eyes. "What the hell are you?"
"One of the good guys" Cordelia, says, now brandishing the gun. "-Ish. And while we are playing Jeopardy, I will take Who The Hell Are You? For $600"
