As Buffy moved to roll Marco onto his back, "Stay…down" came hoarsely from his lips. Another bullet entered his back, followed by the whip-crack of a rifle bullet breaking the sound barrier.
Buffy looked toward the back of the store. Everyone else had already dropped to the floor. She reached up and dragged herself and Marco along the wooden boards, moving for cover in the reading niche off to the side—the table alone wouldn't provide cover for the amount of firepower being tossed at them.
For the first time in a long time, Cassie muttered a frightened obscenity under her breath.
"What's she using, a thermal imaging telescopic sight on top of a rifle?" Xander asked from behind the counter, then paused. "…Geez, I don't believe I remember that."
Spike smiled, looking down from his chair. He slid back and stood, puffing a little at his cigarette. "Bullets, eh? Well, I guess that leaves me safe—"
The next three rounds hit him square in the chest, knocking him to the floor.
"So much for the thermal theory," Giles remarked. "Whatever happened to old fashioned fangs and claws? Maybe even a battleaxe?"
Spike groaned as he staggered to his feet. "Bloody bint. I'm gonna—"
He was cut off by a rapparee coming through the front door, nailing him to the stairs. He looked down to see the spear protruding from his body, his eyes radiating pain.
"She's got Slayer radar," Willow said in awe.
"She's got what?" Cassie asked, glancing at the redhead.
"Slayers get to sense vampires and stuff, without looking."
Buffy rolled Marco off of her and onto his stomach. "And it looks like her range is longer than mine. I didn't even feel her coming."
Cassie crept to Marco's other side, and they both stripped away his clothes, only to find, under his jacket and shirt, a piece of solid white plastic with several bullets lodged into it.
"What the hell is this?" Cassie asked.
Marco groaned and rolled over onto his side. "It's called the fifty dollar Kevlar vest I got out of Quartermaster…I figured around here, it couldn't exactly hurt."
Cassie: "How did you know she'd—"
"I didn't," he moaned as he made his way to a sitting position. "I figured if I jumped Buffy, the worst that could happen would be that I'd look even dumber than usual."
"Good boy, you get a treat later," Buffy told him, patting him on the head. "Assuming we all live."
"No fair, Spike's already dead."
"Whatever."
Cassie refrained from rolling her eyes at their banter and looked at Spike sliding himself off the spear, looking really annoyed and in not a little pain. The spear was made of metal, so he was still undead…for the moment. Any more damage to the shutters, the sun would come through and….Oy. "Marco, you still have that laser pointer of yours? The little one on the key chain?"
He nodded and smiled. "You're going to trace the trajectory of the spears? Be my guest."
Cassie reached into his pocket, grabbed his keys and tossed them at Spike. "Spike, catch!"
Spike grabbed them in mid-flight with one hand, holding the other to the wound in his chest. "What am I supposed to do with it?"
Another spear came through the window and went through the bookcases providing cover for Buffy, Marco, Willow and Cassie. It stuck in the bookcase coming out, nearly tipping it over.
Cassie shot out a hand, using it and her body to steady the shelves. "Place it alongside the spear and turn it on."
Spike did so, and the red beam shot through the hole the spear came through. Buffy immediately ripped the rapparee from the bookcase and leapt into the center of the shop, throwing the spear along the path of the beam.
An instant before, Nuala the vampire looked down at the red dot on her chest and said, "Clever girl."
Then her own spear nailed her in the chest, knocking her off the floor and ramming her to the ceiling.
Cassie glanced over at Spike, seeing him still clutching a hand to his chest. "You okay?"
He smiled reassuringly at her. "Nothing that won't heal." His eyes suddenly widened much like Marco's had before and he roared, "Cassie, down!" He tackled her as the door imploded.
She felt all her bones rattle and her breath knocked from her body as she met the linoleum with a heavy vampire on top of her. "Ow!" she wheezed painfully. "Spike, get the hell off me!"
He had the grace to look embarrassed as he scrambled away. "Sorry."
"Oh, you're sorry all right," a female voice said. "A sorry excuse for a vampire."
They both whirled to see the living version of the digital sketch, her eyes glowing at them like a pair of deadly gems. Buffy stood before her, matching her eyes with equal annoyance, and she briefly wondered how she could have jumped across the street through sunlight without even a sizzle.
"I've been tearin' blokes apart fer over a century," Spike retorted, not noticing he was ignored.
"So," Buffy said, "you were just like me, huh? Slayer? Watcher? Whole bit?"
Nuala nodded. "And I didn't have the good sense to stay dead either."
Buffy shrugged. "Well, I never did know when to take a hint."
Nuala raised one hand, ready to strike, when she flicked it down in time to block a knife blade with the back of her hand. She glanced at Marco. "You and the other mark."
Marco gave her a weak smile as he stood, using the bookcase for support. "Marc-o, not Mark." He straightened painfully. "You don't like to die, do you?"
She merely smiled. She stepped toward Buffy and Spike slid into her way.
"Hey, bitch, I'm not exactly chopped sweetbreads 'ere."
Nuala glared at Spike. "You know, at one point today I considered wiping the floor since you converted—I even stopped by your home—but now I see you're just as pathetic as ever."
"Hey!" Spike reached for her.
Nuala delivered a sharp blow to his stomach with her left hand, Marco's wooden knife still protruding from it. He doubled-over in pain, then she slammed her elbow into his back. "My sire talked like you. It took me eight days to kill him."
"Only eight?" Marco asked curiously. Spike shot him a pained, yet killer look from the floor. Nuala stepped onto the vampire's back, then launched herself at Buffy. The Slayer had leapt back in anticipation, just like Marco had done to her. Nuala had a longer reach, faster moves, a stronger body, and this was trouble.
"Rea!" Willow called.
Nuala snapped toward the witch and her eyes burned, actually scaring Willow, even as the beams of light shot from her fingers through the vampire's gut. Nuala looked down at the holes and growled, not caring about how the redhead had harnessed sunlight at her fingertips.
At once, Spike and Buffy leapt at her from different sides. Without looking at them, she blocked their blows with lighting limbs and simultaneously hooked her foot around the leg of the table and flung it at Willow, making her duck under the counter again.
As Spike, Buffy, and Nuala fought, Cassie searched underneath the countertop. "Come on, Giles, where do you keep the battleaxe-sized crucifixes?" she murmured.
Nuala blocked another of the Slayer's blows with her left hand and back-kicked at her, knocking her off her feet. At the same time, she whacked Spike upside the head with her right hand, making him soar toward the beams of sunlight from off the street. He rolled out of the way, putting the fire out. In mid-kick, Marco threw another knife at her. Due to his injuries, his aim was off and the blade landed in the buttock muscle, making the leg she balanced on collapse. She fell, face first, into the floor. She pulled the knife out and rolled, flinging it toward Marco's head, only he had fallen back down again the moment she pulled it out.
Nuala pushed off the floor and whirled back to Spike, only to find Cassie standing between them with a cross bigger than Cassie's torso. "Back, hellspawn!"
Nuala looked at her like she was insane and said, "That is so absurd. Can't you get any better lines?"
"I agree, Cassie," Marco added from the floor. "That was awful."
Tara stood from behind the counter. "Stay still."
Nuala looked at her and said, "Huh?"
Tara nodded, and let the two-dozen bottles of holy water drop onto the vampire. Nuala was surrounded in one giant burst of steam and wailed like a damned soul. With blurring speed, she dashed out into the street, and leapt through a manhole cover to the sewer below.
Spike slowly stood, creaking. "Well, that was fun."
"Think we can expect other tricks, too?" Marco asked.
Giles slowly rose from the floor. "Well, we've seen vampires with extraordinary powers and abilities: the ability to mesmerize, telekinesis, shape-shifting—"
"Able to leapt tall buildings in a single bound," Marco muttered.
"Making earthquakes, calling animals to themselves…" Tara began.
Willow looked at her and smiled. "No, honey, that's from those Anita Blake novels you've been reading."
As soon as the sun was low enough, Spike escorted Cassie back to her motel. The way Spike moved, Cassie was reminded of Marco, his eyes darting back and forth across the shadows as if expecting Nuala to jump out and rip his head off. His fists clenched and unclenched as though ready to punch through a wall—or a sidewalk, or any of the buildings they walked by.
"Nervous?" she asked.
"Who, me? Nah. I'm used t' walkin' through this town expectin' someone t' kill me. Last year an' a half now."
Cassie gave him a curious glance. "Why a year and a half?"
Spike shrugged. "That's how long it's been since I've been chipped. Can only beat the hell outta demons now."
"Has anyone ever told you you like beating the hell out of people far too much?"
"Me? Look 't your brother."
Cassie involuntarily shuddered as she remembered the look in Marco's eyes at the shop. "I think I'd rather not."
He turned to her just as they reached the door of her room, and realized why she replied the way she did. "You know, don't y'?" he asked gently. "Y' saw his eyes."
"I'm not sure what I saw."
Spike turned into Cassie's path and stopped. "Like hell you aren't. You know what you saw like I did. Your brother is dangerous, something to be put down before he crosses a line somewhere."
Cassie glared at him, blue fire flashing in her eyes. "You mean like you?" she snapped. Before he could react, she slammed both hands into his chest, sending him sprawling into the room with her stalking in after him and shutting the door. She had to step over his body to sit on the bed.
"My brother is not like you," she continued venomously. "He may have a temper, but he has a soul. He—" she trailed off as if a thought had struck her dumb, then curled into a ball, unable to speak.
Spike looked up to see tears forming in her eyes. "Cassie?"
She began to shiver uncontrollably; a bone-deep, psychological cold that could not be easily dismissed.
He leapt up and shed his duster, throwing it about her shoulders. For some reason, he felt protective of this young woman, so incredibly different from her brother. He watched as tears silently rolled down her cheeks and she drew the coat tight around her. He sat beside her, his arm drawing her into a tentative hug.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"What for?"
"You didn't deserve that. You can't fight back, and I took advantage of it." She turned her body to put her arms around him. "I'm scared—terrified, even—and angry that I feel so helpless."
He felt her tears soak into his T-shirt as he held her, resisting the urge to rock her as he had with Drusilla when she'd been physically sick. "Hey, we'll get this bitch before she causes any real damage."
She shook her head. "It's not just Nuala; it's Marco. What I saw—it was dark, empty. For the first time, I'm actually a little afraid of my little brother. My own brother." She lifted her teary eyes to meet his. "Do you know what that's like, being afraid of someone you care about? Or worse, of something that caused you to be afraid in the first place?"
He smiled gently at her. "Believe it or not, I think I do."
They sat in silence for another moment or two before Cassie heard a chuckle rumble up from his otherwise silent chest. "What's so funny?"
"Sorry, pet. Just thinkin' 'bout you this afternoon at the shop." He backed away and mimicked her. "'Back, 'ellspawn!' What were you thinkin'?"
She whacked him lightly in the arm, fighting and giving in to the urge to grin. "Hey, it was the best line I could come up with! See how well you come up with original lines when you're panicking and all you can channel are old vampire movies."
"Well—"
Nuala leapt through the motel room door, grabbed Spike by the scruff of the neck and threw him out the door before he could blink; he landed in the middle of traffic. She whirled on Cassie, who threw Spike's duster at her. The vampire swept it aside and charged into a stream of holy water from Cassie's squirt gun (an idea she had stolen from her more destructive/creative brother). She really and truly wanted to turn her hairspray and lighter into a flamethrower, but there was no time.
Nuala flinched, her eyes steaming. Cassie kicked the assassin in the face and rolled off the bed simultaneously. Without her eyes, Nuala went for Cassie, running into the stake up Cassie's sleeve.
Nuala's eyes reflexively squeezed shut through the pain and she dropped to her knees.
Cassie rushed out the door.
With an effort, Nuala drew the stake out of her heart, then opened her eyes, fresh and new and unburned.
And hungry.
Cassie ran into the parking lot, looking for Spike, unaware that he was the equivalent of four city blocks away. "Damn, Spike, where are you?!" She was about to turn toward the Magic Box when—
"Stop!" Nuala ordered, and Cassie froze. The vampire appeared before her in seconds. Its eyes glowed a shimmering green. Cassie couldn't move.
"Now we're going to use you as bait, young lady," Nuala said. "It's a bad cliché, but clichés are clichés because they generally work. I may even keep you alive. After all, it's honestly nothing personal, love; it's all business. I try to kill only those I'm told to. Now come and walk with me. Your brother can meet us at Spike's home."
