The Head of a Slayer
A Buffy-Highlander Crossover
by David Pontier
Chapter 3
Buffy, Willow, and Xander walked into the library early in the morning. It was Saturday, but they felt confidant Giles and Wesley would be there. They were not disappointed. "Good morning," Giles said pleasantly. "How did the investigation go last night? We found several-"
"Where is Patrick?" Buffy said authoritatively. "We need to talk with him. Where is he staying?"
"Well, actually," Giles started, but stopped as Patrick walked out from the stacks and looked down at the group from behind the railing. "He's here."
"Who is Anthony Marcus?"
Patrick nearly fell over the railing. He did drop the book he was holding and scampered to pick it up.
"Who is Anthony Marcus?" Giles and Wesley asked in unison, the question aimed at Buffy.
She was not looking at them though. She had her attention focused on Patrick. "Who is he, and what is your connection to him?"
Patrick knew that a watcher of an immortal was supposed to keep his trade in secret, but if he wanted Buffy and Giles' help, he would have to be forthcoming. "Anthony is an immortal," Patrick said slowly.
"An immortal what?" Buffy persisted. "In immortal demon? A sorcerer? A what?"
"None of those things," Patrick replied working his way down the steps to be with the others. "He is just immortal."
"Who is Anthony Marcus?" Giles and Wesley asked again to no one in particular.
"You can't just be immortal," Buffy argued. "He's got to be something else, some type of magical being. And what is your relation to him?"
"Who is Anthony Marcus?!" Giles and Wesley screamed together, the question aimed at anyone who was within earshot.
Buff turned to regard the Brits for the first time. "He is our killer, our head chopper. He is also the one who has been parading through my dreams. I saw him die almost twelve years ago. Now he is back, and your friend Patrick knows about it."
Everyone turned to look at the newcomer. "I'm his watcher," he said slowly.
"And you lost control of him?" Giles said accusingly.
"It's not like that," Patrick said quickly, "and from what I've heard, your record is not too clean either." Giles shut up quickly at the reference to Faith. "Besides, watchers for immortals do not have any influence on their actions. We don't get involved; we just, well, we just watch."
"And now you are watching him go on a killing spree and what are you going to do about it?" Buffy asked.
"My immortal is insane," Patrick admitted. "It happened two years ago when he killed his mentor. From the research I've done so far," he held up the book he had been reading, "it is not so uncommon. When an immortal kills another, they take on their spirit and essence in a violent energy storm called the quickening. In several different cases, when an immortal killed his mentor, the conflicting mindset of the two immortals clash violently in the victor's head, and he goes insane. I am hoping to find out a cure or to see if it is temporary."
"So your answer to just let him go on killing, hoping that he is just going through a phase?" Buffy was disgusted with the idea. She turned to Giles. "What is wrong with you people?"
"What, I, uh, we," Giles could not get a phrase out.
"The watchers for immortals are totally separate from you demon fighters. Ours is a more secretive society. Immortals are not usually dangerous."
"Didn't you just say they go around killing each other?" Xander asked, getting into the conversation. "Because I don't know what you consider dangerous, but that ranks pretty high in my book."
"They only kill themselves," Patrick clarified.
"Oh, well then," Buffy threw up her arms in a very sarcastic gesture, "by all means carry on. If all they are doing is killing each other, what can be wrong with that?"
"It is their way," Patrick tried to explain, but he could see he would get little understanding from this crowd. "For some of them it is a game."
"Last one standing wins?" Xander asked.
"Not all of the immortals believe that. Most try to live out their lives helping the mortals around them."
"Oh, right," Buffy said, growing more frustrated by the second, "because us lowly mortals are just so helpless."
"Isn't that what you do?" Patrick scolded, gaining back a bit of confidence.
"I kill demons," Buffy bit back. "I don't kill other Slayers," she paused thinking briefly of Faith, "not that it hasn't crossed my mind though."
"I'm still confused," Willow spoke up for the first time. "Doesn't the definition of being immortal kind of go against the whole idea of dying? I mean how do you kill an immortal?"
"Let me guess," Buffy said before Patrick could speak. "They cut off their heads." Patrick nodded. "So what do they do, just go around cutting of people's heads hopping they get lucky? Or do they shoot first and ask questions only if the victim gets up a few minutes later?"
"An immortal can sense when another of their kind is near. It allows those who wish to live in peace to great each other first in friendship, but it also acts as a warning device to those who believe there can be only one."
Buffy grew suddenly quiet. There can be only one. Those were the exact words Anthony had said to her in the dream. At the time she thought it was referring to the fact that there were two slayers, and that he was a vampire trying to even up the score, but he was not a vampire. He was an immortal. He had cut off her head in the dream. He thought she was an immortal. Buffy chuckled to herself, but then stopped.
Patrick said that immortals could sense when another was near. She had felt something strange when she had seen Anthony in that restaurant. Was she immortal? "How does one become immortal?" she asked slowly.
"You have to be born that way," Patrick responded. "The immortality lays dormant inside you until you experience a violent death. Otherwise you will just grow old and die. Once you experience that violent death, your immortality is triggered and you revive exactly as you were before you 'died.' If you were four years old, then you will live the rest of your life as a four-year-old until someone takes your head. Any scars or deformities you had before the death remain, but anything received afterwards regenerates at an extraordinary rate."
Buffy reached her hand up casually to her forehead, across which dozens of vivid scars had traced a bloody line. All had healed completely and quickly. Giles told her it was her Slayer powers, but was that all that was at work here? "What kind of violent death?"
"Take your pick. Gun shot, stabbing, falling, or in our case, car accident," Patrick explained.
"What about drowning?" Buffy asked, her voice almost a whisper.
"Yea that would work," Patrick said. "Basically any type of death that does not come from natural causes."
Buffy's head was swimming now. They had been looking for an explanation to find out how she had retained her Slayer powers after they had been passed on to Kendra. Here was her answer. Patrick had said that an immortal reverted back to the state they were in before they "died." If they had scars before, they had scars after. If they were for years old before, they were for years old after. If they were the Slayer before, they were the Slayer afterwards. Forever.
Giles noticed the change in Buffy's mood, but could not figure out what was bothering her. After the drowning question, he understood. "Buffy," he said cautiously, "if you are thinking . . ."
Buffy held up her hand to stop him. "Please, Giles." She was slowly walking away from the group, crippled with the thoughts and possibilities that raced through her mind. "Please, not now. I just, I, uh, I need to go." She turned and ran out of the room before she broke down in front of everyone.
"What just happened?" Patrick asked.
"Buffy drowned two years ago," Willow said bluntly.
Patrick looked around at everyone. "You guys don't think she is immortal, do you? I mean she's not."
"I don't think Buffy's so sure," Xander argued.
"She's not," Patrick said firmly. "It is incredibly rare to be immortal. I mean we are talking about one in a hundred million are born that way, probably less than that. I mean if she was immortal and the Slayer-"
"It would be a tremendous thing to have to cope with," Giles finished for him.
"Should someone go after her?" Xander asked.
Giles shook his head. "If there is one thing I've learned about Buffy, it is that she is capable of handling things in her own way. When she needs help, she will let us know. Besides, I have a pretty good idea where she is going."
Everyone in the room nodded except one. "She is not immortal," Patrick said another time, but no one was listening to him.
* * *
Angel sat on the edge of his bed, deep in thought.
He had not been out of his home in a while. Not since he had helped Buffy and friends get Willow back from the mayor. The particulars of that encounter were having lasting effects on him. The mayor might be a sadistic sorcerer bent on death and destruction, but when you're right, you're right. He and Buffy had no real future together. Who was he kidding? Picnics by moonlight were not that romantic. Plus, Buffy worked the night shift at her job.
Angel stood up from his bed in frustration. Pacing worked better for when you were trying to think through something. He had lived for a long time, but he had never loved anyone as much as Buffy. Even if they could work out the whole daylight issue, there was still the problem that they could never make love. Not that it mattered much, vampires could not have children anyway. What kind life was he trying to force on her? Live a celibate lifestyle with a husband that could only be seen at night and could never give her kids.
So far sex had been determined to be the trigger for him, but what if it was not that cut and dry? Angel wondered if any time he had sex he would revert back. He doubted it. The curse specifically said that as soon as he experienced true happiness he would lose his soul. If he had gone all the way with Faith, he doubted he would have put himself in jeopardy. He did not love her and therefore the act would have had no meaning to him. If he could have sex without losing his soul, then conversely, he could probably lose his soul without having sex.
Angel was not so single minded to think that sex was the only way he could experience true happiness. Up until that point, he and Buffy had never expressed their true emotions for each other, and since then, there had always been a cloud hanging over their heads preventing him from being truly happy. But what happened if they continued their relationship and they worked through all their issues? Would he experience true happiness at their wedding? When they adopted a kid? Just being with Buffy was risky. Waking up next to her on the nights she stayed over was tough. If it was not for the fact that he knew he could only look but not touch, he would have lost his soul countless times by now.
Angel laughed half heartedly to himself as he imagined Willow standing ready with an Orb of Thesulah for a quick curse in case they had too much fun. Maybe they could schedule it. You know, have Willow wait eight hours after they enter the honeymoon suite and then perform the curse. It was crazy. That's what it was. It was absolutely crazy. Buffy deserved someone normal. He had to end this insane cycle. The next time he saw Buffy he was goi-
Buffy burst into the room, quickly shutting the door behind her so the sunlight did not shine in too long. Angel was startled by her appearance. What were the chances that she would show up right as he was thinking about her? He laughed again. Did he ever think about anything else? His smile faded quickly as he looked at her. It was obvious that she had been crying. "What is it?" he asked, his voice soft and soothing. The bad news that he was leaving could wait for later.
Buffy did not say anything right away. Angel turned to watch her as she walked right past him. She walked slowly toward his bed and sat down. She sat in silence for a while, staring at her knees. After a long minute she looked up. "You were there when I died right? I mean, when the Master killed me, uh, when I drowned, you were there, right? I mean when Xander revived me." For having rehearsed this on the way over, it sure was not coming out well.
"You know I was," Angel said slowly, wondering where she could be going with this.
"You saw what Xander did to me, right? I mean you saw him revive me."
Angel nodded slowly. "He did CPR. You know, he pumped on your chest and gave you mouth to mouth." Angel smiled and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "He's probably fantasized about it hundreds of times since."
"Angel," Buffy scolded, "I'm being serious."
"So am I," Angel chuckled to himself, but he dragged his eyes away from the ceiling to look at her seriously. "He did it right. I mean, he did not take advantage of you, if that is what you are thinking."
Buffy shook her head. "Are you sure he did it right?"
"Of course," Angel said. "I mean you are alive, right."
Buffy was quiet for a while before speaking. "Do you think he took a class on it?"
"On what? CPR? How should I know? All I know is what I saw. One minute your were lying lifeless in my lap, not breathing, and thirty seconds later you were coughing up water, good as new. He saved your life."
"Good as new," mumbled Buffy to herself.
Angel heard her. "What is wrong, Buffy?" He walked over and sat beside her.
She looked at him. "Do you remember what I was like right after I got up? Right after I came back from the dead?"
"Yea. You were a bit wobbly at first, but after I tried to get you to rest, you pushed me off, saying you felt strong."
"How many drowning victims do you know of that one minute after they are revived are able to beat the most powerful vampire to have ever lived?"
"One," Angel replied honestly, "but she was – correction – is the Slayer, so I wasn't that surprised."
Buffy stood up and walked away from him shaking her head. "Please tell me what's wrong," Angel pleaded. "I know you came over here to unload, but I can't help you unless you tell me everything."
"Do you know anything about immortals?" she asked.
"You're looking at one, or at least you would be if you turned around."
Buffy did, slowly. "Not vampires," she clarified. "I mean immortals. Humans that are immortal. You can only kill them by cutting off their heads."
Angel thought briefly but shook his head. "I've heard of spells that are powerful enough to render a human impervious to death for a short period, and there have been countless legends of a fountain of youth somewhere, but immortality, as I understand it, has always been reserved for us demons."
"I've been having dreams about this one immortal in particular. I think he is after me. I think he thinks I am immortal. I'm not so sure he is wrong."
Angel was having trouble coping with this. "Are you saying you think you came back from the dead because you are immortal, and Xander had nothing to do with it?"
"Not exactly. I think my death triggered my immortality. Patrick said that an immortal's immortality is triggered by a violent death and after that they never age again. I died when I was sixteen." She stood with her arms wide, putting her body on display for Angel to look at. "Have I changed at all?"
"It's not that uncommon for girls to reach full maturity by age sixteen," Angel countered.
"Come on," Buffy disagreed. "I haven't grown a millimeter since then. I'm wearing the same clothes then as I do now. Well, not the same clothes, but the same size. I haven't changed one bit. Willow used to be shorter than me."
"Your hair has gotten a lot lighter," Angel said.
"I'm being serious, Angel."
"So am I," he replied. "I swear you used to be a brunette."
Buffy scowled at him. "Come on," he said gently, rising up from the bed to walk toward her. She spun away from him, and he did not pursue.
"Fate chose me to be the Slayer," she started another rehearsed speech she had worked on while walking to Angel's. "Fate chose me to be the Slayer in Sunnydale. Not just any Slayer could make it here. Fate needed a really good one. I killed the Master. Spike has killed two slayers, but I foiled everyone of his plans."
"Are you getting a big head?" Angel asked.
She spun to glare at him. "I killed you, didn't I." She was being completely serious, and Angel took a step back. "So here I am, one of the best Slayers that's ever lived, and I just happen to work on a Hellmouth. Convenient, isn't it. Maybe a little too convenient. Maybe fate thinks that no one else can cut it but me. Maybe fate needs me to hang around a while. So it makes me immortal to boot. Fate gives me a life time contract.
"Oh, they make sure that I'm not the only one first. The nature of my immortality is that I have to die first. This conveniently creates another Slayer that can handle the demons elsewhere while Buffy sets up a permanent residence on the Hellmouth, ready to save the world at the drop of a hat."
"Buffy," Angel tried to jump in, but Buffy did not let him.
"It's not bad enough that I win the lottery once. One girl in all the world that is chosen to fight the vampires. No, fate makes sure my number comes up again. Only this lottery is a little different. I don't get paid. There is no cash prize waiting for me. You win this lottery and you have to pay. You have to pay with the lives of your friends, what few you can make. You have to pay by giving up any chance of a normal social life. You have to pay by spending your nights fighting demons. That's why it is not supposed to be a long gig. Each Slayer has an expiration date. We live a hard and short life. Not me, no. Not Buffy. She gets to hang on to this killer job forever. And if you thought waiting for chemistry class to end was a long time, you're in for a big surprise, because eternity is forever."
The rant appeared to be over, but Angel could not think of anything to say. "Now I have this immortal after me," Buffy said, most of the wind out of her sails.
"We'll get him, Buffy," Angel said. "We'll go out tonight together and-"
"No," Buffy said. "We won't. I will."
Before he could argue further, she went somewhere he could not follow: outside into the sunlight. Angel sat back down on the bed. He could not fathom the idea that Buffy might be immortal. But what if she was? This changed everything, right? No. It changed nothing. They still could not make love. He still could not exist in daylight. Now they could be apart forever. This made it worse.
* * *
"Budweiser."
The bartender nearly laughed at the request. The kid appeared no older than 19. The bartender had worked at his job for over 15 years and was rarely wrong. "ID," he said casually, not making one move to get a drink for the patron.
Anthony Marcus shrugged his shoulders and slowly reached under his coat for his wallet. He dug through it briefly and plopped his California driver's license on the counter. The bartender smiled at the card as he picked it up. No one tried to fake an in-state driver's license; this ought to be good. The bartender read the dates and froze. This was not a fake, or if it was, it was the best one he had ever seen. Tipping it slightly he could clearly see the holographic state seal that even the best counterfeits had a hard time duplicating. The problem was this ID did not say he was 21, it said he was 30.
When people tried to lie about their age, they tried to make it believable, and the bartender had never seen a fake ID that had ever made its owner out to be any older than 23. He slowly placed the license back on the counter. "You were born in '69?" he said questioningly. "Who was president in '72?"
"I don't know who the president is now," Anthony retorted. "Now give me a Budweiser."
The bartender obeyed. Anthony took the bottle and drained half of it quickly. He knew his ID was going to give him problems sooner or later. He had just renewed the license last year, and the ignorant woman that worked at the DMV had not even batted an eye at the birth date. He could probably get away with renewing till he was 100, but the bartenders might start to get suspicious. When his license declared he was 40, he did not know what he would do.
Kelron had set him up with his current false ID, but Kelron was not around anymore. Anthony chuckled as he thought of his mentor. How naïve had he been? How could he think that he could survive in this brutal world by making friends with everyone? That is not how the world works. You need to take what you want before someone else takes it from you. The strong are the ones who rule this world. He was strong. He was going to-
Anthony's stomach grumbled and he almost heaved. He took a deep breath and remembered where he was. While he thought of immortal issues he usually tended to zone out. He was in a bar drinking. It is where he always was. He had an empty bottle next to him and a half-empty bottle in his hand. Was that all he had drank? No. He had an idea that if the bartender had not been clearing way his empties, he would have amassed quite a collection by now.
He looked at the bartender now and saw a bit of fear in his eyes. Anthony knew why; he looked like he was going to hurl. "You're finished, Mr. Thirty-Year-Old," he said, taking the half-empty bottle out of his hand, and clearing the other empty.
Anthony rose partway out of his seat, his right hand dropping to the sword hilt hidden inside a specially sewn in compartment in his coat. He did not pull it though. Instead he took his wallet out again, paid for his tab, and left. He just needed a few minutes in the fresh air, and he could hit a different bar. He just needed to stop thinking about Kelron.
* * *
Mike, Ted, and Jerry walked quickly down the street, casting eyes all over the place. It was just past sundown, and they were very nervous. They were vampires, and this town belonged to the Slayer.
"Man, we shouldn't be out here," Ted said, easily the most nervous of the three. "We should be back at the nest."
"Are you kidding me," Mike said hotly. "I'm sick of eating leftovers. I want something fresh."
"Ted's right, Mike," Jerry added. "It is dangerous at night."
"We are vampires." Mike stopped walking and turned to look at his two friends. "We own the night. Besides," he reached into his coat pocket, "I have this." Mike held a pistol in his hand. "The Slayer might be tough, but she is no Superman. Bullets kill her just as dead as everyone else."
"Are you nuts," Jerry said. "Guns cause internal bleeding and total loss of blood pressure. It makes feeding from the neck like trying to suck milkshake through a straw."
"I don't want to drink the Slayer," Mike said. Both his friends looked at him dumbfounded as if he had just said he did not want to drink Britney Spears. "Okay, okay, I do want to drink the Slayer. But I'm not so stupid as to try." He hoisted the gun. "This is to kill the Slayer so we can drink everyone else."
This little speech gave his friends some confidence, and they fell back in line. It did not take them too long to spot their first victim. He was walking slowly in a gate that was common among alcoholics who did not want to appear drunk. "It looks like we have a winner," Mike said to his friends. Blood was good all by itself, but if you could get a beer buzz from it as well, all the better. They spread out to surround the helpless drunk.
Anthony might have been drunk, but he was not helpless. He saw the three men approaching before he should have and noticed their attempt at stealth. They appeared to be no more than a few teenagers, but he knew he looked the same way. Anthony would be the first to tell you looks could be deceiving.
"Looks like you've had a bit too much to drink there, friend," Mike said, as he walked directly up to Anthony. "Perhaps you could use a hand getting home."
Anthony looked his new friend in the eyes, seeing and sensing that he was not all the he appeared. "Stay away from me," he said calmly, very little slur in his voice. He had gotten a lot of practice fighting drunk, and he was preparing for it now.
"I'm afraid I can't do that," Mike said, and he cocked his head to the side as his demon visage came to the forefront. "You see, I'm kind of hungry."
Mike charged, but Anthony knew Ted and Jerry were behind him. With his sword on his left, he pulled it with his right and punched out at Mike with his other hand. Mike was not ready for the defensive move and stumbled under the blow. Anthony swept his blade out and turned all at once, slicing high in the air behind him. He nearly took both of the other vampires' heads, but their demon instincts took over and they ducked just in time.
"Holy crap, dude! He's got a sword!"
"Shoot him!"
Mike ignored his two friends' cries and took stock of this prey. He was not as helpless as he seemed, but he was drunk. What he was doing with a sword, Mike could not figure, but he would not be able to defeat them.
Anthony was good. He was plenty good enough to beat these three worthless vampires, but not in his current state. And not without knowing a thing or two about vampires. The head-shot was not easy, and in his battles with non-immortals he always changed his strategy to go for the much easier attack lower on the body. That was his mistake.
All three vamps came in hard, but were driven back by the expert swordsman. One of the creatures ducked behind a stop sign, but Anthony sliced neatly through the wooden post driving the vamp back further. Mike hesitated before charging again, realizing they were going to have to change their strategy to beat this target. He waited for the rest of his group to gather themselves before attacking.
They all the rushed him again and he pirouetted, slicing his weapon in three different directions at once. Jerry ducked out of the way, but did not retreat fully. He came back in quickly, and Anthony hastily tried to keep him at bay with a backhand. It was not a powerful strike, and easily avoidable, but Jerry willingly took the slash across the side, howling in pain as he did.
Jerry grabbed onto the blade with his hands, as its momentum had been stopped. Anthony wrenched it free, surprised both at the willingness to take the hit and his adversary's incredible strength. The unexpected stop in the middle of his battle cost him, and Ted and Mike were on him quickly. They were both too close for a swipe with his long sword, but he spun an elbow into Ted's face and tried to lash out at Mike with his left hand.
Mike took the punch, as there was little behind it, and continued in. He punched back, lifting Anthony into the air from the mighty blow. He did not go far, and Ted grabbed him when he landed, securing his arms to his sides. Anthony was strong. After all, he had not been offered a scholarship to play football at UCLA for his looks, but he could do nothing against these monsters. He struggled, but the increase of his heart rate during the fight only made his inebriation worse.
"Nice try, buddy," Mike said, licking his bloody lips from when Anthony had punched him first. He dove into Anthony's neck. The rush of power was more than Mike could ever have been ready for. He sucked a good pint before he could recoil from the immortal's neck. His head spun and swam as he felt the rush of energy course through him.
As Mike was finally able to shake his head free from the sense of extreme euphoria, he found that he had stumbled to the ground and looked up at Anthony who stood limply between the other two vampires. "What have you been drinking?"
Anthony barely heard the question. He was barely awake. The massive loss of blood pressure so suddenly, combined with his drunken condition threatened his consciousness. Ted and Jerry looked in wonder at Mike's reaction to the feast they had held for him and did not waste time partaking for themselves.
Anthony fell to the ground a second later as the two vampires who had been holding him recoiled from his intoxicating blood. Ted felt the wound on his side and across his hands where he had grabbed the sword start to tingle as the regenerative blood worked its way into his system.
Anthony was nearly dry and had lost consciousness, but Mike did not want to let any of the precious blood go to waste. Still too disoriented to walk, he crawled over to Anthony and sucked as much as he could from his neck. Jerry wobbled to his feet and walked over to pick up the sword that Anthony had dropped. He pulled it out of the ground and admired his new prize.
"Have you ever fed off a drunk before?" Ted asked as he struggled to his feet.
"He was no simple drunk," Jerry responded, swiping the sword back and forth in front of him. He felt incredible. The new strength that flowed through him was like nothing he had ever experienced. "There is something more about him."
Jerry and Ted both looked at Anthony as Mike was just now crawling off him. "Should we turn him?" Ted asked.
Jerry shook his head. "He's already dead. It's too late."
The two of them helped Mike to his feet and they walked off back toward the cemetery. They thought about heading back to the nest, but they felt it wiser to come down from their high first. They did not want the others to know what they had done. Any catch was supposed to be brought back to the nest so all could feed. After one whiff of Anthony's blood, there had been no way they were going to share.
* * *
"Have you seen this guy tonight?"
The bartender looked at the picture and then at the short blonde girl holding it. "Yea, he was in here about an hour ago. I cut him off after about six beers. He a friend of yours?"
"Sort of," Buffy said, putting the printout Willow had given her back in her pocket. "Do you know where he went?"
"Probably to the next closest bar. Let me ask you something, is he really 30 years old?"
"Yes he is," Buffy said, smirking at the bartender's confusion. She briefly thought about what life would be like for her when she was 30 or 40 or even 100 and still looked exactly the same as she did now. It would be just like Angel. "Thank you," she said to the bartender and left the restaurant.
It was a nice clear spring night and Buffy appreciated the legwork instead of her normal patrolling duties in the graveyard, which normally just constituted waiting around. She walked along the sidewalk trying to clear her mind of the heavy thoughts that had plagued her all day. She had managed to convince her friends that their best efforts would be spent in research about immortals. They had been adamant about her not going alone, but she had lied and said Angel would be with her.
A car horn suddenly blared from the intersection ahead as two cars nearly collided. Some heated words were exchanged, and the cars drove on. Buffy saw that on the other side of the street, there was a wooden stake sticking out of the ground where a stop sign had once been, hence the almost accident.
Buffy jogged across the street carefully avoiding the light traffic and walked up to the decapitated stop sign. There were no car tracks in the moist grass and the actual sign was lying only a few feet away. Buffy could also clearly see that the grass was heavily matted down around the sign.
"It was cut by a sword."
Buffy whirled around at the sudden voice, a stake raised by her shoulder on instinct. It was Duncan, the man she had met at the crime scene the other day. He gave a curious glance at the stake, which Buffy quickly tucked back into her coat, and smiled at her. "I see you are hot on the case again."
Buffy did not say anything but turned back to the wooden post in the ground. "Do you know what you are up against?" Duncan asked.
"I have a pretty good guess," Buffy responded. "Maybe you can answer a question for me though. It looks like our mutual friend cut down this stop sign, but I don't see any decapitated bodies. I mean this sign has been around as long as I can remember, but I don't think it qualifies as being immortal."
Buffy spun back around to see if what she said had a visible affect on her silent partner. It did, but Duncan did well to hide it. "I don't think Anthony 'killed' the sign on purpose," Duncan said humorlessly. He was happy to see Buffy flinch at the name. "There was a struggle here. I'd say three, maybe four people attacked him."
Buffy looked at the scene. To her it just looked like matted grass. "Who won?"
"I don't see much blood," Duncan said, "and as you so accurately pointed out there are no bodies, and without a loser there can't very well be a winner."
"So what did they do," Buffy asked, "call halftime and they'll be back in twenty minutes?"
Duncan gave her an odd look that she did not see. What was this girl talking about? "I think maybe the attackers thought they had won, but Anthony got up after they left. Right there," he pointed at a spot in the grass.
Buffy was looking at the spot too. While much of the grass was matted down, in sections it was already starting to spring up and even that matting was splotchy at best. In this one spot there was a large amount of grass lying down, and it was roughly human in shape. Buffy walked over to the spot and knelt where the neck would have been. She dabbed her fingers in the grass and they came back slightly bloody. "Figures," Buffy said, wiping her fingers clean on the moist grass.
"What is it?" Duncan asked.
Buffy stood and leveled a glare at him. "Do you know what you're up against?"
Duncan looked at her quizzically. "I'm here for Anthony Marcus. Is that not who you are after?"
"Yes," Buffy said, "originally, but it looks like we got a two for one deal. I don't suppose in your time of hunting immortals you've run across any vampires, have you?"
"Vampires?"
Buffy shook her head. "I didn't think so." She walked over to the beheaded stop sign.
"You are after vampires? But you are so . . ." he stopped as he watched Buffy pick up the fallen sign and tear away the metal octagon as casually as she might have removed a paper flyer for a lost dog.
She tossed the remaining two feet of the wooden stake to him. "You'll need this. Hold it with the pointy end facing away from you. The rest should be self explanatory."
Duncan caught the stake easily, noticing with interest the two large metal fasteners that had until recently held the stop sign to the post quite securely. He tucked the stake into his coat near his sword and looked at Buffy.
"Are you coming?" she asked. Duncan looked in her direction and saw the faint tracks leading away from the skirmish scene. "I'm willing to bet you can read these better than I can. You look like the tracking type."
"A strange girl," he muttered to himself, but smiled at her as he walked past and led the pair after the vampires. There was only one set of tracks leading away from the scene, so Duncan had a good feeling they would find Anthony at the end of the trail as well. He had tracked him across most of the West Coast, and now he would finally get his chance to avenge Kelron.
* * *
Three months ago
Seacouver, Washington
"It was nice seeing you again, Duncan," Russell said, standing from his chair next to the small table in the outdoor café. "We really should schedule these meetings more often."
Duncan stood and shook his hand across the table. "It's my pleasure, really. Next time you have business in Seattle let me know and I'll pick you up. It'll save you on cab fair."
"I'll do that. It looks like the Bureau might be sending me out here more often in the next few years. I'm sure we'll get a chance to trade a lot more stories."
Duncan smiled at his friend and watched him hail a cab and ride away. Duncan paused to pick up his unfinished coffee and drained the cup. He was about to leave when he saw Joe limping his way toward him. Duncan smiled and sat back down.
"I see how it is," the watcher said. "When you have friends you don't want me to know about you treat them to a drink out here. Is there something wrong with my place all of a sudden?"
"Hardly. That was Rust- uh, Russell Carter. He was just on a tight schedule and did not even know he would have time to meet me until about an hour ago."
"Old friend?"
"Really, old. When I last saw him, he was ripe and fiery. He was a gunfighter, and I swore he wouldn't last more than a year. Now he works for the FBI, and by all counts is making quite a name for himself. Kelron did him well."
"Kelron?" Joe asked.
"Yea, Kelron Morian. He's an old immortal who takes it upon himself to mentor as many of us as he can. We've met a few times. I figured an immortal like that would be on your guys' hot list."
Joe was suddenly somber. "Yes, I know of him. I had no idea you knew him. Were you friends?"
Duncan thought for a while. "Yes, I would consider him a friend." He noticed a change in Joe's demeanor. "Why do you ask?"
"Kelron Morian was killed about a year ago. He was killed by one of the immortals he had trained named Anthony Markus. Anthony had started well, but he was into substance abuse and got obsessed with the quickening. He was young and very athletic. Kelron tracked him down, and Anthony killed him."
Duncan was in shock. He had just spoken to Russell. The man worked for the FBI. He would have thought Russell should have found out about this a long time ago. The watchers were very secretive, however.
"We don't know much about Anthony's whereabouts or what has become of him. His watcher's last report was that Anthony had gone mad. It happens."
"So we have a mad killer on the loose," Duncan said. "What are the watchers doing about it?"
"Watching," Joe admitted.
Duncan got up from the table and walked quickly away back to where is car was parked. Joe could not keep up. "Duncan! You need to be careful. He's dangerous. You can't do this!"
"Watch me!"
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Buffy and Duncan found themselves walking through one of the many cemeteries that dotted the outskirts of Sunnydale. Duncan still led but pulled up sharply as they neared one of the crypts. "What is it?" Buffy asked. "Do you hear something?"
"Not exactly," Duncan replied. He sensed another immortal nearby. "They are close."
Buffy nodded and crept forward to look in the crypt. Through a broken window she saw the three vampires talking to themselves. One of them was carrying a sword. Duncan walked up behind her. "I don't see Anthony in there."
"I'm sure he'll be around shortly to reclaim his sword, and frankly I don't want to have to deal with four at once."
"Maybe," Duncan said, still looking around, "but I thought I sens-" he stopped himself. He did not think Buffy knew he was immortal and did not want to have to explain the way he could sense when one was near. Maybe it was not Anthony. Maybe it was the vampires. The sensation did not feel strong enough to be coming from three, but maybe vampires gave off a weaker sensation.
"So," Buffy said, pulling her stake from her coat again, "are you up for a spot of violence?"
Before he could answer, Buffy walked over to the door and kicked it open. The vampires startled easily and backed away from the entrance as Buffy and Duncan entered. "You!" Mike said when he saw the Slayer. "What are you doing here?"
"What kind of silly question is that," she asked. "It's my job. My question to you is, 'Where did you get that sword?'"
Jerry held up his sword, still admiring it. "Do you want it?" he asked cunningly. "Come and get it." He felt pretty confident as Buffy was armed only with a stake.
"Wait!" Mike called before the fighting started. "Who is your friend?"
"He's my boyfriend," Buffy said casually. "My idea of an exciting first date is a bit different than most girls. Now are we going to fight?"
"No," Mike replied. "You are going to die." He pulled his gun out and fired a shot at Duncan. The bullet took him full in the chest and he fell back without a cry. Mike swung his weapon to Buffy, but she was on the move and his next three shots missed. She dove behind a raised stone coffin and waited, panting heavily.
"Come on, Slayer," Mike taunted, firing another shot into the wall behind her, hoping for a lucky ricochet, "hiding isn't your style."
"It's three on one," Buffy called back. "Do you really need the gun? It really takes all the sport out of it."
"Maybe you're right," he agreed. "Come out, and we'll fight fair."
Buffy crept to the edge of the coffin and peered around. She saw the three vampires smiling at her. None of them was holding a gun. She slowly stood and moved away from any obstructions. "How about you with the sword, I don't suppose you would cons-"
Mike pulled the gun out again and shot her. The bullet spun Buffy around and she went down on her back, a red spot quickly growing on her shirt. Mike threw his head back and laughed. "The almighty Slayer! What a joke! I suppose if we want any blood from her we are going to have to hur-"
Now he was cut off sharply from an intense pain in his chest. He looked down and saw the tip of a sword quickly retract behind him. He dropped the gun and fell to the ground. The other two vampires looked behind their fallen leader to see Duncan staring back, a large red stain on his sweater. "Impossible!" Jerry shouted.
"Hardly," Duncan replied, noticing with interest the change that came over his adversary's face. Jerry held the stolen sword and attacked. Duncan easily blocked the attacks but was staggered by the creature's strength. For the first few moments of the battle, Duncan was unable to counter, for each of his parries drove him back. Once he gained his footing, he was better able to deflect the untrained attacks instead of absorbing them. He crossed Jerry up quickly, and, out of habit, swung at his shoulders. The head came off, and both it and the body dissipated into a cloud of dust.
Duncan took a step back shocked, but then remember what Buffy had said to him the other day. "Sift through the dust, eh. I get it." Duncan searched quickly for the third vampire and saw him hunched over Buffy's crumpled form.
In all the confusion, Ted though it was a good time to feast on the Slayer before it was too late. A chance like that did not come around too often. Duncan rushed over to him but stopped as he heard the vampire cry out and suddenly thrown across the room. Ted started to get up, not quite sure what had happened, but there was a stake in his heart and the only moving he would do was if a stiff breeze lent a hand.
Duncan looked back from the spectacle to see Buffy struggling to her feet, a vivid red stain showing prominently over her stomach. "You threw him?" Duncan had seen her rip off the stop sign, but that vampire must have weighed close to 200 hundred pounds.
"Well, kicked," Buffy said, wincing as she stood, "but the result was the same. What happened to the other two?"
"I killed them," Duncan said. "One of them turned to dust just like yours did."
Buffy looked at him, concern across her face. "Only one of them turned to dust?"
"Well, yea . ." they both turned to look at the room. It was empty save for a gun and a sword lying on the dirty floor. "Should they both have dissolved?"
"It's the only way to kill them," Buffy said and tried to straighten up. She winced in pain again and moved to sit on the coffin she had hid behind a few minutes before.
Duncan eased her down, confused as to what was going on. She did not feel immortal to him. He could sense her power sure enough, but there was something different about it. She had taken a bullet to the gut, though, and now she was only slightly sore. "Who are you?" he asked finally.
"I'm Buffy," she said slowly, "The Vampire Slayer." She smiled at him and noticed for the first time that he was bleeding. "Oh, are you alright?" She reached out for his chest, but he backed away.
"I'll be okay, really, it was just a . . ."
"Just a what? Just a gunshot to the chest? Maybe I should be asking who you are?"
"I am Duncan MacLeod . . ."
". . . The Highlander," a voice said from the entrance to the crypt.
They both turned to see Anthony standing thirty feet away. "Born in the highlands of Scotland in 1592. He is immortal, like me." Anthony grinned broadly. "Kelron told me a great deal about you."
Duncan's face showed his anger clear enough, but he paused as he looked at his surroundings. "Uh, uh, ah," Anthony waved his finger in a disapproving fashion. "We won't be fighting here, what with it being holy ground and all. Besides, two immortals against one, I don't think that's in the handbook either."
Anthony walked forward to pick up his sword. Buffy had no handbook and climbed off the coffin to attack, but she winced again. "It stings a bit honey," Anthony said, "but you'll heal up just fine. When it does, I'll be waiting for you. Until then . . ." He bowed deeply and left.
"You're just going to let him go?" Buffy cried.
"We do not fight on holy ground. It is a sanctuary."
"What are you talking about? This ground is infested with vampires and demons. It is about as unholy as possible. Besides, he is a murderer. He does not deserve sanctuary."
"His time will come, as for you. We have a lot to talk about. How long have you been immortal?"
"I don't know," Buffy said. "I'm not so sure I am. I mean I'm feeling awful mortal right now."
"What do you mean?" Duncan gasped. "You just took a bullet to the gut."
"What, this?" Buffy pulled her damp shirt away from her stomach so it could hang straight. As it did, the bloodstain rotated around to her side. She lifted the shirt up a bit, and Duncan could see the bullet had only grazed her. It was a deep cut, but it should not be life threatening if treated properly.
"We need to get you some help," Duncan said.
"The library," Buffy said quickly.
"I was thinking more along the lines of a hospital, but . . ."
Buffy shook her head. "No, the school library."
Duncan shrugged as if that clarification had cleared things up at all. "Can you walk?"
"I can manage."
"Then let's go. I think we have a lot of explaining to do."
* * *
Mike was stumbling through the graveyard, leaning on each tombstone as he came to them. He had taken a sword through the chest, and while he knew he would not die, it did not make the pain any less bearable. He paused in his flight to consider his situation.
He had sneaked out of the crypt unnoticed, he thought, so he did not fear pursuit, besides, the Slayer was dead. He did not know who the other stranger was, but just by the fact he had stabbed him and not taken his head meant he did not know much about vampires. He supposed he should head back to the nest. He would have a lot of explaining to do on why they had left alone and why he had weakened their ranks by getting two of them killed. Still it was his safest bet.
Mike pushed away from the tombstone he had come to lean against and found himself looking at the tip of a sword. He looked up the length of the weapon and found the grinning face of Anthony. Shock and horror went through Mike as he recognized the man they had drained earlier. He also remembered the power of this man's blood and how he knew he must have been powerful. Also, he did not appear drunk now.
"I have some questions for you," Anthony said slowly. "What is a Vampire Slayer?"
* * *
"I don't like it," Xander said for the thirty-seventh time. "She should not be out there alone."
The normal gang was in the library going over the information that Patrick was providing them. So far it looked pretty good. Immortals were no stronger than an average human and had no special powers or magical abilities. The only hitch was their use of a sword.
"I mean she doesn't have a sword," Xander continued.
"Yes, but Angel does," Willow interrupted, "and she said that they would track down this Anthony tonight. I'm sure he is keeping her safe."
"I would be," Angel said, suddenly walking into the library, "if I knew where she was."
"Angel," Giles said, "you're not with Buffy. No, of course you're not. She lied. Why would she lie?"
"What else does she ever do?" Wesley asked.
"Is this the vampire you spoke of earlier?" Patrick asked, taking a few steps away from Angel.
Angel did not pay him any mind. "She came to my place this morning, crying about being immortal. Who put that crazy idea in her head?"
"She put it in her own," Giles said. "We have an immortal killer roaming the streets of Sunnydale taking people's heads. Buffy thinks he's after her."
"Well we need to find her. She shouldn't be out there alone."
"I've been trying to tell them that," Xander said, "but no one listens to me."
"She's reckless enough as it is," Angel continued. "If she thinks she is immortal, it can only get worse."
"Right," Giles agreed. "We need to find her. We'll split up. Xander and Willow, Wesley and myself, and Angel I assume you can make it on your own."
They all turned to go and saw Duncan and Buffy walk slowly into the library. "I found her," Xander said.
"Buffy, you're hurt," Giles announced, rushing up to take her from Duncan. He supported her back to the table and then rushed to get some medical supplies from his office.
Angel seemed more worried about Duncan, something that was not lost on Buffy. "Who's this?" he asked."
"He's my new boyfriend, Angel," she said, sarcasm dripping from her lips. "I decided I like my men a little older than you."
"You're joking, right?" Angel asked, not completely convinced.
"Or trying to," she said. "This is Duncan MacLeod." Buffy noticed Patrick perk up at this. She figured he might know him. "We ran into each other tonight. It turns out he is a friend of Anthony too."
"A friend?" Willow asked. "You mean like you and me friends, or you and Faith friends?"
"Like Faith," Buffy said.
Giles came back with his bandages and ointments and looked at Duncan for the first time. "Are you hurt too? Is that your blood?"
"No, I mean yes, but I'm . . ." Duncan started.
"Don't worry about him, Giles," Buffy said. "It was a simple gunshot to the chest, nothing to get worried about. But my scratch, this needs immediate attention."
Conversing with Buffy was often a chore, and a very pained expression crossed Giles' face as he tried to reason out exactly what she had just said. Buffy helped him out. "He's immortal, Giles."
Giles nodded and went to work on his Slayer. "And what have you come to believe about yourself?"
"I'm having doubts," she admitted.
"Let me help put some evidence behind those doubts," Patrick spoke up. "Duncan, would you mind showing us your wound?"
Duncan shrugged and lifted up his sweater. There nothing but a small red spot where the bullet had entered. "Have any of your wounds healed that fast, Buffy?" Patrick asked.
"Point taken. So I over-reacted. We should definitely go on and on about it. But I think Anthony believes me to be immortal."
"Not possible," Patrick said. "Like I said before, immortals can sense when another is near. He should be able to tell you are not one."
"Not true," Duncan spoke for the first time. "Buffy does give off a slight sensation. It is not as strong as a true immortal, but it is easily confusable to someone as young as Anthony."
"He is after me," Buffy said to Giles. "In my dreams, he is after me."
"Then we tell him he's wrong and he leaves," Xander said. "I mean all we have to do is prove to him Buffy is not immortal, and he'll forget about it, right?" Everyone looked at Xander as his brain slowly worked out the only logical way you could prove someone was not immortal. "Oh, right, bad plan."
Patrick was not convinced. "If I am not mistaken, Duncan, you are here because of what Anthony did to Kelron, correct?" Duncan nodded. "Then with that threat more prevalent, I don't think Anthony will come after Buffy. He'll go after Duncan."
* * *
"I want the Slayer," Anthony said determinedly.
He was standing in front of half a dozen vampires. Mike had quite unwillingly led him back to his nest. Mike had told Anthony what he knew about the Slayer. Supernatural strength and endurance. A chosen one imbibed with a spirit of power that is given to only one girl in all the world. And, Anthony thought, she's immortal. What a quickening that would be!
"Good luck," Trinian, the head vampire of the nest, said. The rest of the vampire's laughed.
"You fear her," he said. "You outnumber her six to one and you fear her."
Trinian growled. "You have come to mock us. That is not wise. We outnumber you as well."
"Please," Anthony said, "I come to you with a deal."
"I don't hear a deal. All I hear is an idiot spouting fantasy."
"You help me, and I will give you an all-you-can-eat feast you will never forget," Anthony offered. Trinian looked intrigued. Anthony turned to Mike. "Tell them."
"I fed off this one," he said. "I sucked him drier than a stone. His blood was like nothing I've ever experienced it was powerful and intoxicating all at the same time."
"You fed off him?"
"I am immortal," Anthony cleared things up. "My blood is filled with the spirits of ancient gods and kings. He sucked me dry, but fifteen minutes later I woke up fully restored."
"You would offer yourself as a meal?" Trinian was surprised.
Anthony laughed. "Hardly. I know of another. He is older than I am and more powerful. His blood would be twice the prize compared to mine. You could feed on him all day long, and he will always come back fully restored. You would never have to hunt again, and your strength would be unmatched."
"Who is this other immortal?"
"His name is Duncan MacLeod. He has come here hunting me."
Trinian laughed. "You fear him."
"I do," Anthony said honestly, "as you fear the Slayer. I have the means to kill her and you have the means to kill Duncan. We both have incredible things to gain and nothing to lose."
"Please tell me," Trinian begged, "how do you propose to kill the Slayer when we have all tried and failed?"
"I thought it might be as simple as creeping into her house at night and killing her in her sleep," Anthony said, knowing full well that the vampires could not enter her home. "Or maybe I can lie in wait as she walks to school with her friends. You see, you fight her at night, when she is hunting and prepared. You fight on her terms. I can attack her in daylight, when she is not prepared. Her weapons are wooden stakes and holy water. These mean nothing to me. I can take her head easily."
"Yet you can not defeat this Duncan, but you feel we can?"
"Again, he is not trained to fight vampires. He thought he had killed your friend here by stabbing him through the heart with a sword. I myself was defeated by Mike this evening and two of his friends because I was not aware of how to fight you. Plus your strength is greater than his is. Against the Slayer you might look weak, but against Duncan, you will be able to overwhelm him."
"Why not just take you now and skip all chicanery?" Trinian asked, a low growl coming from his demon visage.
"Because I know how to kill you, and then who would kill your Slayer?"
Trinian thought about this deal for a while. It did sound good. Anthony would kill the Slayer for them. Even if that were the only part of the deal, he would have agreed to it. But this revelation about immortal blood was even more fascinating. After they captured Duncan and after the Slayer was dead, maybe they would take this Anthony as well. Trinian smiled and nodded. "It's a deal."