|
Melissa and the others stood by Andru as her last word hung in the air. Scratches shifted to human form again. Belial stared coldly at her, smiled and then laughed. Great gusts of sadistic mirth burst from his lips. His men, uncertain at first, started laughing as well, as the absurdity of the situation dawned on them. Buffy felt a helpless rage well up inside her. She understood what Melissa was doing. The vampire girl and her friends were trying to give her a chance to run, sacrificing themselves to save her. Buffy edged toward Belial, trying to spot an opening in which to seize the Dagger. She was nearly there when the mirth died out. Belial shook his head and chuckled again. "So the four of you, 'scuse me Andru, three-and-a-*half* of you, are gonna take out the big, bad demon an' save the world, huh? You and what army?" A voice as cold and harsh as death itself rasped out a single word, "Mine." Buffy turned around at the unexpected sound. Getting a little away from the startled crowd, she craned her neck to see. He was a tall man and he rode a light grey horse. As the floodlights illumined him, Buffy saw that he wore two old-fashioned pistols around his waist. His Stetson shadowed his face, but Buffy could see his cold, steel-grey eyes. He was a vampire, but there was something even darker within him. Power came off of him like a black wind. Despite his claim of an army, he rode alone. Emily's voice spoke at this point, but the inflections seemed different, more grounded, somehow. She said "...and behold a pale horse: And him who rode on it was Death, and Hell followed with him." Clap, clap, clap. "Not bad, Blackthorn, not bad at all." commented Belial. "Of course, you'll be *just* a bit short-handed I'll expect. Apparently there was one *hell* of a lot of emergancies that cropped up tonight. Quite a few of the teams, especially the heavy-duty combat teams, were rushed courtesy of myself and Mr. Deveraux here," he said, touching his chest, "into some *very* nasty situations with a minimum of reliable information. I'd expect there were quite a few losses, yes indeedy." he smirked again. "Gotta say I like the whole Clint Eastwood approach. If you'd like I could go have one o' the boys run and get you some tabacco so you could do that whole Clint spitting thing." teased Belial. "You've committed the unforgivable sin, demon." Blackthorn said, ice edging his words. "Pray tell which one was that?" asked Belial. "Fuckin' with me and mine." Belial shrugged. "So how'd you know to come to this little party? I thought your invite got lost in the mail." "I told him, of course." said Scratches. "Your men, and I use that term loosely, are fools as well as cowards. Rebecca and myself *were* wounded in the ambush. Before I could stop her, she rushed them and they gunned her down. But not before she'd poured the last of her life and power into one final magic. An illusion that *both* of us had charged and fallen." Scratches continued in a cool, exact voice. "She was our packmate, and a dear and loyal friend. You and yours murdered her, and this innocent cub, and doubtless countless others. And now you will pay the price." "The only price being paid here will be by you fools. For the cost of a one-way ticket to Hell, on the express route." said Belial, sounding bored and annoyed. "You are few, and I am *legion!*" he spread his arms as if to encompass his twisted followers. "Hate to break it to you, but I don't even see a *platoon*, much less an army." he snickered. Blackthorne raised his head and Buffy saw death in his smile. "Then you should look in a different light." He thrust his fist into the air and they appeared. Multiple clusters of Garou in the huge Crinos form. They were deployed in clusters that each surrounded a deformed-looking Nosferatu vampire. They were arrayed in a loose semi-circle around Belial's group. Blackthorn raised his leathery voice into a shout. "Your chief named me war leader as he lay dying from the bullets of those who stole his cub! By his blood and the blood of his murdered cub I call on you, the Sept of the River Wide, to strike them down! I want you to make sure that not even *God* will sort them out! Now scourge them from off the skin of this world!" And with that he kicked his horse into a charge, and the Garou followed with him. * * * Chaos exploded around Buffy. There were shrieks of pain and the stuttering of automatic weapons. Occasionally there was a crack like thunder as Blackthorne fired one of his pistols. Buffy turned into a spinning dervish, smashing soldiers left and right, a kick to the stomach here, a smash to the nose there and they fell. But not quickly enough. Buffy saw three of the humans leveling automatic rifles at her. She was too far away to get them all. She leaped at one and knocked him out. The other two were pulling their triggers when red holes blossumed in their throats like lethal roses. Buffy registered the gunshots and turned to see Melissa holding a pistol in each hand. "It's *still* a lousy idea not to bring a gun to a gunfight!" the vampiress yelled. * * * Wyrm's Sight, the one-eyed werewolf, was trying to rally his packs to defend against this unexpected assault. The silver in their guns had been mostly used up by the idiots who'd been shooting at the human's helicopter. A few of the Garou fell screaming to silver, but the rest slammed into the unprepared line of vampires, Black Spirials and Pentex troops like the hammer of God. Sight grabbed a Nosferatu's ugly head in his teeth and ripped it from his neck. Then he felt a presence behind him. "You led those who murdered Rebecca." said Scratches, "And now your time has come." Sight turned and fled. Ahead he saw a large area of metal polished to mirror brightness. He concentrated and leapt at it. He entered the surface and vanished into the Umbra. With a growl of frustration, Scratches followed. * * * Another group of humans, these with knives since they were apparently out of bullets, charged Buffy and Melissa. "I thought Andru said Scratches *and* Rebecca had beaten some Sabbat?" asked Buffy as she elbowed one in the throat and broke another one's kneecap. "That was Belial sending in a fake message to make us think everything was kosher. He duped the voices in." she spoke as she shot two in the groin and chest respectively. She shot again but her guns clicked on empty. The last man, holding a stake and screaming a war cry, rushed at Melissa. Buffy dropped him with a spin-kick to his forehead. She took the stake for herself. "Andru told me what happened. But why didn't you just try to read my mind?" said Buffy. "I did, in the warehouse, but something was blocking me." Melissa replied. Melissa shot another soldier who aimed a rifle at her. He clutched his shattered kneecap and fell to the ground. "Sorry," said Buffy, "I forgot about the walnut-thing. What about Andru? We need to find him." She saw a large knife and grabbed it. "Gonna be a long walk." said Melissa. "He's back on the station now." "So what all happened?" asked Buffy, staking and then decapitating another vampire. "You know, these guys aren't as tough as you'd think." Melissa blew another one's head off with the shotgun. "Sabbat procedure. They grab a bunch of poor bastards off the streets, turn 'em into vamps, and throw 'em human wave style into the enemy. The Sabbat creation rites ensure they're pretty much pure evil and semi-mindless. You're doin' 'em a favor by killin' 'em. Probably Belial wanted some expendable supernatural troops is why they're here." "Sound like they're closer to the vampires on *my* world." said Buffy. "Pretty much." Melissa replied. "Anyway, Andru popped down earthside after Deveraux attacked him upstairs. He figured he was wanted and contacted me on a private channel we'd set up just in case the organization ever decided to fuck us. He told me what happened and we went to find Scratches. Scratches believed us and called Blackthorn. Since Belial thought Scratches was dead, he never bothered to make *him* persona-non-grata." The din of battle was much thinner where they were now, moving around it's edges. "I'm guessing the River werewolves took him in since he'd just been attacked by those Dancers in *their* space." said Buffy. "You got it. Blackthorn's got a *lot* of pull with the Garou. When he heard what happened, he hauled ass down here. The chief lived just long enough to appoint him war-leader. Meanwhile, me and Andru were waiting on Deveraux, at least Belial, to make his move." said Melissa. "Cyke, Blackthorne and Scratches managed to get the Nosferatu to go along, since this was a golden opportunity for them to waste the Dancers, who compete with them for space in the sewers and kill them whenever possible." "For what it's worth, I'm sorry about trying to stake you and blow you up." said Buffy, with a sheepish smile. "The Nazi-warehouse had cameras throughout it. Andru saw what was happening and teleported me out before I got more than singed around the edges. We'll just file the whole thing under "Oops" and forget about it." said Melissa. "Is there any way to free Giles, I mean Deveraux, from Belial?" aske Buffy. "I don't have any way at hand to cut the connection," said Melissa. "We're gonna have to knock him out 'til we figure it out. One good thing we've got going for us is that you're attuned to the Dagger now. When he cut you and then you killed that vampire with it, it bonded to you. Right now, the only people that can use it to close the gate are you and Belial, and I *doubt* that he's gonna help." They moved passed some other machinery and saw a large group struggling in the distance. There was no short way around them. "How do I close the gate?" asked Buffy. "You just slam the thing into the middle of the sigil he's using and turn it to the right. Like locking a door." said Melissa. The battling figures were just a short distance away. "Oh boy," said Buffy as they plunged into the din, "Here we go again!" * * * Wyrm's Sight and Scratches faced each other on the shifting plane of the Umbra. Scratches' totem animal, the Rat, sat on his shoulder and hissed its rage at his opponent. Sight seemed to contract his chest and expand it again, releasing some kind of power. Scratches moved in warily. Sight lashed out, narrowly missing his opponent's chest. "Like all of the Rat, you prefer to flee rather than fight." sneered Sight. "You fled here, blind one." reminded Scratches. Sight replied with a blast of lambant green balefire that hissed past Scratches. At that, the Rat on Scratches' shoulder jumped off and fled away. "Even your totem guide deserts you." laughed Sight. There was a roiling, twisting *shape* forming in the "ground" of the Umbra. "*My* allies are loyal, though. Before the Widers chased us off, I managed to drag your sidhe friend with me. She was actually still alive when I fed her to *my* friend. Her throat was torn from bullets, so she couldn't scream, but I expect that it hurt quite a bit." Sight pulled his deformed, wolflike snout into a laughing grin. Scratches felt the rage filling him. He wanted nothing more than to tear Sight asunder. He fought down the hate. He still needed his wits. Like an unholy birth, a *thing* came into being in the Umbra. It was insectoid, with eight limbs and compound eyes. It's fingers ended in claws, and there were crushing mandibles in its mouth. Like an obscene trophy, Rebecca's head was tied to a belt the thing wore on its thorax. The thing fired a blast of brown fire that slightly scorched Scratches' pelt. Scratches danced back a bit and began to speak. "You know, you truly are a fool." "I'm not the one who will be eaten. You are." reminded Sight. "Do you recall the fable of the Mouse and the Lion?" asked Scratches, dodging and twisting away from the hideous thing. "In it, the lion traps the mouse and the mouse begs to be let free. The lion, seeing no real value in eating the mouse, lets him go. The mouse thanks the lion and goes. Later, the lion is trapped by a giant spider's web. Then the mouse comes along and chews through the webbing, freeing the trapped lion. The two swear eternal friendship and leave." The thing fired a sticky mass that enveloped Scratches, holding him fast while the insect approached. Sight growlingly chuckled. "You are about to be eaten and you tell children's tales. Amusing. Stupid, but amusing." The Rat returned then, and started chewing on the bindings as the evil insect approached. A stinger dripping a vile fluid erupted from the thing's mouth. "Ah," said Scratches. "but all fables are based in fact. This one closer than most. Only the names have been changed. Instead of the mouse and the lion, the true participants were the Rat...and the Gryphon. And the Gryphon remembers." The Gryphon tore through the eternally shifting, twilit Umbral sky. It's head, wings and razor-sharp talons were those of an eagle, while it's body and tail were that of a lion. It dove at the insect-thing, which had time for one frightened buzz of alarm before the huge Gryphon's talons slammed into its back with horrific force. The thing's carapace shattered like glass and the Gryphon used beak and talons to rend the foul spirit-creature asunder. It's remains quickly dissolved away. Then the noble totem-spirit turned a cold, predatory gaze at Wyrm's Sight. Sight saw death on the wing and fled from it. He'd planned to lure his pursurer into the Umbra where he could call on his spirit ally, who'd just been destroyed. To stay here meant annihilation. Sight ran and concentrated, preparing to step sideways back into physical reality, where the spirit-Gryphon couldn't follow. A portal opened in front of him, he could see his fellows battling the other Garou. He jumped at the portal home and felt his paws brush the entrance. Then daggers pierced his back and sides and he was borne away by terrible wings. Scratches watched in dispassion as Wyrm's Sight, screaming and howling in agony, was torn to pieces by the Gryphon. The Gryphon, its beak and talons wet with blood, swooped by him. "I thank you for honoring the ancient pact, mighty Gryphon." said Scratches, bowing his head in a gesture of respect. The Gryphon lifted his head to the sky and gave forth a triumphant, birdlike screech. Then it flew from sight. The Rat finished chewing and Scratches thanked him as well. Scratches then took Rebecca's head and, as best he could, wiped away the ichor of the insect thing. Then he called up a portal and moved to go home. * * * Buffy and Melissa attempted to find Belial in the carnage and chaos of the battle. The unexpected appearence and charge of the Sept of the River Wind and their temporary Nosferatu allies had demorilized the forces of Belial. But those forces still outnumbered the newcomers, and the numbers were starting to tell. Buffy watched as a vampire charged her. She slammed the stake into its heart and followed up by slicing off the head. "You're getting pretty good at that!" called Melissa over the din. "Practice makes perfect." Buffy replied. Finally they cleared the edge of the battle and saw Giles. He was using the Dagger to carve an intricate design into the ground before him. He looked up as they approached. Melissa raised the her shotgun. "Shit. No time to do the knock-out thing. Sorry Deveraux, wish there was another way." Buffy heard Giles humming the Door's "Light My Fire" and cried. "Melissa, no!" Too late. Melissa pulled the triggers on both barrels. The shotgun exploded in her hands, setting her on fire. Melissa panicked and started to run. Buffy slammed her stake into the girl's chest, paralyzing her so that she couldn't fight or flee while Buffy tried to help her. Then she ripped off Melissa's jacket and used it to smother the flames. Melissa wasn't dead, but she was badly burned. She could barely move as Buffy removed the stake. "Hurts." hissed Melissa through fire-blackened lips. "Up to you now, killer cheerleader, go waste his ass." Belial snickered. "Very touching, I think I'm gonna cry. Boo-hoo-hoo." "Oh you're gonna cry alright." promised Buffy. "You're gonna cry 'Ouch', 'Uncle', 'Help' and 'Mommy' before I get finished with you, you evil freak!" "Sorry, sweetie-pie. I'm *just* a little occupied with destroying the world just now. Go play with somebody else. *Her,* for instance." he said, smiling. Buffy turned to see Emily approaching and felt herself go cold with fear. Emily held the bloody scalpel before her and smiled that terrible, empty smile. "Oh goody!" she said, grinning in anticipation, "Now I can *finally* play with my dolly!"
|
Next Part
John Jones's Stories
The Archive
