Travers stood in the empty store and frowned. He'd been certain that Faith
would have made contact with those little twerps that had been helping the
Slayer. Well, ex-Slayer.
He couldn't believe that she'd been so stupid as to return here, of all places. They knew this town all too well. Buffy Summers had been a thorn in their sides for years now. She was dead, though. It was all very sad, of course but Travers couldn't be bothered with grief or sympathy.
The Council wasn't one hundred percent certain that another Slayer hadn't been called after Buffy's death. It would take a few weeks of performing the appropriate tests on the candidates before they could be sure. Eventually the girls would be killed off, mostly, failing the first of their tests.
If any were left standing, there would be more tests. One must be completely sure. The running theory, however, was that Buffy's death would not result in the selection of a new Slayer. Kendra had been her replacement and Faith had been hers. Still, it was not unwise to check.
That's why they had to find Faith. Once she was dead, the testing could really begin. Suppose one of the girls was scheduled to replace Faith[,] but was killed during the testing? If she hadn't received Slayer strength yet, it would be virtually impossible for her to survive a week of intense fighting.
Irritated, he tried to contain his frustration and refrain from punching the wall. A phone rang. He pulled a compact cell phone out of his pocket.
"Travers here."
"Sir, the new Slayer has been found. She's in Oregon. Montrose tested her this morning. There's no doubt in his mind that she's the one."
Travers hung up the phone. Their theories must have been wrong. It was not unusual for a Slayer to be found several weeks after her predecessor's death. It took anywhere between minutes and months for the Essential Slayer to fix on a new host. He was surprised, though. He had been firmly of the belief that they would find nothing until Faith's death.
For a moment he considered the fact that they had chased an eighteen-year old girl across the state to murder her, only to find out that it hadn't been necessary after all. What if they'd waited another hour to phone him? It might have too late for Faith by then.
He shut his mind to such idiotic thoughts. The Slayer was hardly a young girl. The Essential Slayer was pure predator. A natural hunter. Her only purpose was to kill. In a way, she was worse than the vampires she killed. The Slayer didn't kill to eat, she just killed because her body screamed inside itself until she did. The girl that she'd been was irrelevant. Faith was a wild animal. She had to be controlled.
But if Buffy's death had hailed the calling of a fresh Slayer, wouldn't Faith's as well? It was not too late. He was certain that they could capture her and stage some sort of accident on the return to England.Surely the Council wouldn't find fault with him. Especially if they didn't know.
His phone rang again. For a moment he thought it might be Whitney again. Telling him that it was all a mistake. Instead, he heard the unusually weak voice of Valerie West, the only woman on the team at the moment.
"Quentin,"
Infuriating woman. Using his first name like that.
"We've found Faith. At the high school library.or what's left of it. You'd better get down here."
He hung up again. Signalling to his men to follow, Travers walked out of the shop and into the bright Sunnydale morning.
***
Val swallowed hard. This was far more than she'd ever bargained for. She turned her face away from the rest of the team. There were four of them, Travers and his three men made eight total. Eight fully armed people to take down one eighteen year old girl. Even then, the Council had warned them of the dangers of this mission. Had they been able to spare any more people they would have. Times were rough. Watchers were scarce. Nothing to be done.
The girl didn't look supernatural. She looked just like any other eighteen- year old girl. She still lay in the pool of her own blood. The scene in the library was ghastly. They could all smell iron.
Ashes had stuck to the mats in the girl's hair. They turned her hair a grisly shade of grey. Her face was so young. Now, she just lay there. Subject to the gaze of a lot of strangers who'd just spent the last several weeks trying to kill her.
The Council had called it an assassination. Assassinate. The word had a clean, military ring to it. Political. Well, it damned well was political. The Council wanted this girl dead because she'd broken their rules. It wasn't like she'd signed up for the job.
It wasn't an assassination, it was murder, pure and simple. They had come to kill this girl, who they had helped to shape, because she no longer served their purposes. Val had accepted the mission when it was presented to her. She couldn't remember why just now.
She'd felt honoured to be selected to lead such a prestigious task. Her sense of pride in her work had been stroked. That was all. It was an ego boost.
Now, she wondered if she hadn't made a big mistake. The moment she'd seen the girl, lying there, she'd known that the Council would never again be the object of awe for her that it once had. Her ideals seemed trivial now. Was she fighting the good fight? Or was she just wading through a load of bullshit bureaucracy to be patted on the head and told that she'd done well?
Travers entered the room. All eyes rested on his as he moved closer to the prone form of the girl on the floor.
"You already killed her?" He sounded like a little boy who'd missed a party. Val tried not to change her expression visibly.
She had great respect for Quentin Travers. He was very, very good at his job. She also held him in the highest contempt. He only seemed truly productive when they were searching for a new Slayer. He fed off of their deaths. She called him Quentin because she knew it annoyed him.
"Quentin, we didn't do it. She's been dead for half a day, we think."
"What happened?"
She's been raped, you blithering idiot. Can't you see anything?
"Well, sir, it looks like she was raped. Quite brutally it seems. We don't know how it happened. No normal man should have been able to defeat her."
Unless it wasn't a normal man. Unless she had already been defeated. Val refused to fill in any more blanks for him. She'd seen the claw marks on the wall, she'd seen the weak signs of struggle painted in the blood on the floor. She'd seen the men on the team sneaking looks at the girl's naked body.
"Well, it doesn't matter who did it. It saves us much work. Clean this place up and we're headed to Oregon. A new Slayer was located just this morning.
Travers stalked back outside, looking vaguely disappointed.
Val ordered the men to wipe down the walls and clean up the body. She couldn't bear to look at those eyes any longer. Faith. Her name had been Faith. She had a name and now a face. She'd had a life and a mind.
Everything that the council had ever told Val about Faith seemed unimportant now. That she'd killed several people, that she'd never had a real family, that she'd aided in one of the infamous Sunnydale apocalypse attempts. From what Val had gathered, the girl's family life had been abusive. She'd had no friends. Killing had been the only thing she was good at.
It was past noon and Val was tired. She honestly didn't think the Council could possibly pay her enough for this job.
***
He couldn't believe that she'd been so stupid as to return here, of all places. They knew this town all too well. Buffy Summers had been a thorn in their sides for years now. She was dead, though. It was all very sad, of course but Travers couldn't be bothered with grief or sympathy.
The Council wasn't one hundred percent certain that another Slayer hadn't been called after Buffy's death. It would take a few weeks of performing the appropriate tests on the candidates before they could be sure. Eventually the girls would be killed off, mostly, failing the first of their tests.
If any were left standing, there would be more tests. One must be completely sure. The running theory, however, was that Buffy's death would not result in the selection of a new Slayer. Kendra had been her replacement and Faith had been hers. Still, it was not unwise to check.
That's why they had to find Faith. Once she was dead, the testing could really begin. Suppose one of the girls was scheduled to replace Faith[,] but was killed during the testing? If she hadn't received Slayer strength yet, it would be virtually impossible for her to survive a week of intense fighting.
Irritated, he tried to contain his frustration and refrain from punching the wall. A phone rang. He pulled a compact cell phone out of his pocket.
"Travers here."
"Sir, the new Slayer has been found. She's in Oregon. Montrose tested her this morning. There's no doubt in his mind that she's the one."
Travers hung up the phone. Their theories must have been wrong. It was not unusual for a Slayer to be found several weeks after her predecessor's death. It took anywhere between minutes and months for the Essential Slayer to fix on a new host. He was surprised, though. He had been firmly of the belief that they would find nothing until Faith's death.
For a moment he considered the fact that they had chased an eighteen-year old girl across the state to murder her, only to find out that it hadn't been necessary after all. What if they'd waited another hour to phone him? It might have too late for Faith by then.
He shut his mind to such idiotic thoughts. The Slayer was hardly a young girl. The Essential Slayer was pure predator. A natural hunter. Her only purpose was to kill. In a way, she was worse than the vampires she killed. The Slayer didn't kill to eat, she just killed because her body screamed inside itself until she did. The girl that she'd been was irrelevant. Faith was a wild animal. She had to be controlled.
But if Buffy's death had hailed the calling of a fresh Slayer, wouldn't Faith's as well? It was not too late. He was certain that they could capture her and stage some sort of accident on the return to England.Surely the Council wouldn't find fault with him. Especially if they didn't know.
His phone rang again. For a moment he thought it might be Whitney again. Telling him that it was all a mistake. Instead, he heard the unusually weak voice of Valerie West, the only woman on the team at the moment.
"Quentin,"
Infuriating woman. Using his first name like that.
"We've found Faith. At the high school library.or what's left of it. You'd better get down here."
He hung up again. Signalling to his men to follow, Travers walked out of the shop and into the bright Sunnydale morning.
***
Val swallowed hard. This was far more than she'd ever bargained for. She turned her face away from the rest of the team. There were four of them, Travers and his three men made eight total. Eight fully armed people to take down one eighteen year old girl. Even then, the Council had warned them of the dangers of this mission. Had they been able to spare any more people they would have. Times were rough. Watchers were scarce. Nothing to be done.
The girl didn't look supernatural. She looked just like any other eighteen- year old girl. She still lay in the pool of her own blood. The scene in the library was ghastly. They could all smell iron.
Ashes had stuck to the mats in the girl's hair. They turned her hair a grisly shade of grey. Her face was so young. Now, she just lay there. Subject to the gaze of a lot of strangers who'd just spent the last several weeks trying to kill her.
The Council had called it an assassination. Assassinate. The word had a clean, military ring to it. Political. Well, it damned well was political. The Council wanted this girl dead because she'd broken their rules. It wasn't like she'd signed up for the job.
It wasn't an assassination, it was murder, pure and simple. They had come to kill this girl, who they had helped to shape, because she no longer served their purposes. Val had accepted the mission when it was presented to her. She couldn't remember why just now.
She'd felt honoured to be selected to lead such a prestigious task. Her sense of pride in her work had been stroked. That was all. It was an ego boost.
Now, she wondered if she hadn't made a big mistake. The moment she'd seen the girl, lying there, she'd known that the Council would never again be the object of awe for her that it once had. Her ideals seemed trivial now. Was she fighting the good fight? Or was she just wading through a load of bullshit bureaucracy to be patted on the head and told that she'd done well?
Travers entered the room. All eyes rested on his as he moved closer to the prone form of the girl on the floor.
"You already killed her?" He sounded like a little boy who'd missed a party. Val tried not to change her expression visibly.
She had great respect for Quentin Travers. He was very, very good at his job. She also held him in the highest contempt. He only seemed truly productive when they were searching for a new Slayer. He fed off of their deaths. She called him Quentin because she knew it annoyed him.
"Quentin, we didn't do it. She's been dead for half a day, we think."
"What happened?"
She's been raped, you blithering idiot. Can't you see anything?
"Well, sir, it looks like she was raped. Quite brutally it seems. We don't know how it happened. No normal man should have been able to defeat her."
Unless it wasn't a normal man. Unless she had already been defeated. Val refused to fill in any more blanks for him. She'd seen the claw marks on the wall, she'd seen the weak signs of struggle painted in the blood on the floor. She'd seen the men on the team sneaking looks at the girl's naked body.
"Well, it doesn't matter who did it. It saves us much work. Clean this place up and we're headed to Oregon. A new Slayer was located just this morning.
Travers stalked back outside, looking vaguely disappointed.
Val ordered the men to wipe down the walls and clean up the body. She couldn't bear to look at those eyes any longer. Faith. Her name had been Faith. She had a name and now a face. She'd had a life and a mind.
Everything that the council had ever told Val about Faith seemed unimportant now. That she'd killed several people, that she'd never had a real family, that she'd aided in one of the infamous Sunnydale apocalypse attempts. From what Val had gathered, the girl's family life had been abusive. She'd had no friends. Killing had been the only thing she was good at.
It was past noon and Val was tired. She honestly didn't think the Council could possibly pay her enough for this job.
***
