Chapter Sixteen
Into the Maw
Faith sat in the back seat of Xander's car, her fingers drumming agitatedly on her knees as the vehicle hurtled through the night. Buffy was sat up front with Xander, both of them staring straight out into road with a grim determination. Everything had changed so much since she'd last seen them all. Buffy seemed hollow, as if she had given up on life and was running only on autopilot. Xander seemed more grown up, less of a boy and much more a man. His already broad frame had filled out giving the former high school nerd a physique that a lot of football jocks would be proud of.
She tried not to wince as the car lurched unexpectedly over a pothole, jarring her wounded side violently. She tried to focus on something else and lighted on Willow. Of all of them, it was Willow who'd changed the most. The bag that sat at her feet bulged with all manner of herbs, mixing pots, gourds and surprisingly, weapons. The once nervy computer geek, who Faith remembered most for aimless nattering when she was nervous and her fuzzy pink sweaters, had come along way in the last two years. Instead of nerves and stuttering sentences, she radiated a quiet confidence, and seemed almost, well, a touch arrogant.
She reminded Faith a little of herself when she'd first come to Sunnydale all those years ago. She was buzzing off her newfound power; amazed by the doors it opened up to her and of the possibilities it held. No longer was she forced to fit herself into the niche society had carved for her. With her newfound skills she could be anything she wanted to be, do anything she wanted and have anything she wanted. The world was hers for the taking. Faith shivered slightly as the memories flooded through her. She'd be lying to herself if she pretended the temptation wasn't there anymore, but she remembered where it had taken her the last time and she was fighting harder now, clawing her way out of the hole she'd dug for herself. She just hoped Willow was smarter than she had been, smart enough to drop the shovel before she dug herself in too deep.
The car drew to a silent halt outside the Wolfram & Hart building and once again Faith felt a queasy sensation of unease fill the pit of her stomach at the sight of the almost completely glass pyramid. It was too close to her dreams to be coincidence. Somewhere inside was King, and she had to bring him out of there. She couldn't just abandon him the way Buffy wanted her to. She couldn't explain why, but she felt something unusual about him, a connection that she'd never had with anyone before, not even Angel. She had to get him back. It was the only thing that would ever make her feel good about herself.
The group slid out of the car, as Angel, Spike and Wesley clambered out of the car in front. The two groups assembled briefly on sidewalk, staring up at the building's glistening form, for the second time in as many nights. Most people would have been brighter than to come back again after the ass kicking they'd received the last time. Faith's side throbbed painfully at the memory.
"Everyone ready?" asked Buffy to be greeted by a round of nods. She stood perfectly still then took a deep breath. "Okay then. Let's do this." The mismatched band of vampires, Slayers and Wicca moved off toward the building.
*****
King strode into the luxuriant executive suite, his long silken robes rustling quietly as he moved across the room. At his side, Shinji walked calmly, his trusty katana balanced carefully in the crook of his arm. The lawyer woman was standing off to the side while some of Shinji's more able vampires daubed symbols of arcane power across the walls and floor in human blood. Flickering candlelight sent shadows whirling dizzyingly around the room and the still wet blood glistened brightly in the warm glow. Not for the first time, King felt a twinge of doubt pass through him. Was he doing the right thing? He gave a mental shrug. He was a vampire. Whether or not he was doing the right thing was not, nor had it ever been, his concern.
He approached the centre of the room where a triangle had been painted crudely across the floor. Along each side, another triangle had been painted, its base running parallel to the original, making a huge triangle that stretched across the floor of the room, consisting entirely of the original four parts. Within each triangle, dark symbols had been painted and shone wetly in the light.
Taking great care not to disturb any of the rituals symbols, he stepped into the centre triangle, and watched placidly as three vampires dressed in similar robes to him, placed a set of bowls at each point of the four triangles. The outer bowls were merely candleholders, but the inner ones were filled with various pieces of the human anatomy. King wondered briefly just how many people had been killed so this ritual could take place. He shook his head. Before they'd given him back his soul he wouldn't have even cared.
One of the robed vampires, the tallest, approached him with a wicked looking dagger that glinted threateningly as he moved.
"Let us begin." King said. The vampire nodded silently and moved up to him. The two stood, staring at each other for a long time. Suddenly the vampires arm shot forward, the sharp steel of the dagger slicing straight into Kings heart. Kings eyes widened in pain but he refused to cry out. He would do this in silence. The vampire twisted the dagger, increasing the blazing agony that had already shot through him tenfold. Slowly but surely, the dagger was pulled free. King had to work not to visibly sag as it finally slipped out of his heart. The vampire turned and handed the dagger to another, at the same time being passed a bowl. The bowl filled with the Slayer's blood. The vampire dipped long fingers into the bowl, swirling them in the blood, tracing intricate patterns across its rippling surface. With a slight smile, he lifted his fingers out and gently began to daub the blood onto the wound over his heart.
The moment the blood touched him; King felt it stir at the back of his mind. The smell of the Slayer, the feel of her blood on his body drove the creature, cursing and spitting, out of the depths of his mind. It hurtled through him like a whirlwind of bile and hatred, screaming at him to kill, maim and slaughter all those around him. It roared depravity after depravity inside his skull, slipped through his mind and howled nothing but rank corruption into his soul. And then King understood. He knew what the truth of his vampire existence was. It was what this thing, this interloper in his mind was screaming for. It was death and dissolution, degradation and corruption. It was pure vileness. And in that single moment, he knew that his choice to come here, his decision to conduct the ritual had never truly been a choice at all. It had been inevitable.
Suddenly the spitting and hissing rage fled to the corners of his mind as he was drawn out of his reverie. He could here alarm bells ringing, their mournful wail echoing loudly through the building. They were here. The Slayers and their friends had come. He glanced at Shinji, who nodded in understanding.
"Grachus." He hissed. The scarred vampire pushed his way through the assembled vampires and stood at his Sire's side.
"Yes master?" he said simply.
"Do not let them reach us." Grachus nodded.
"Yes master." He said again then turned to the others.
"All of you," he shouted over the din of the alarm bells, "come with me. We've got ourselves some Slayers to kill." The vampires let out roars and yells of delight, and began to flood out of the room, Grachus at the head. As they flooded past him, King watched as Shinji pulled a globe from inside his jacket. It was one of the scrying spheres he'd used to watch over them the entire time this little drama had unfolded. King could just make out the figures of Faith and Buffy behind the shimmering mists that seemed to cloud both spheres.
"You always knew they would come." He said. Shinji nodded grimly.
"Yes master, I just hoped it wouldn't be so soon." King smiled, a gesture that drew a frown from Shinji.
"Master? Are you alright?" King ignored the questions and turned back to the vampire with the bowl of blood.
"Continue." He said. Everything was going the way he had planned it. Slowly the smile drained away. He just hoped they could go through with it.
*****
A veritable wall of vampires stampeded across the reception area toward the small band of interlopers. Faith tugged a stake free from the back of her pants and dropped easily into a fighting stance along side Buffy. She had never seen so many vampires in one place at the same time. They roared and cursed the Slayers, shouting jibes and taunts as they hurtled forward. Behind them, Faith heard Willow begin to chant. She glanced over her shoulder to look at the girl, her eyes widening at what she saw. Willow was hovering a good foot or so above the ground, her arms extended, palm up with her fingers arched and tense, flickering fire dancing from tip to tip. She couldn't make out what the girl was chanting when suddenly, at her feet the bag of tricks began to move.
"If I were you guys I'd duck." Said Xander helpfully. Faith didn't need telling twice. She hit the deck along with Buffy as at least twenty stakes hovered clear of the bag. They floated in the air, as if on wires, each one tracking a different vampire.
"Escendera!" Willow yelled and the stakes hurtled forward. Not one of them missed and twenty vampires exploded into dust. Faith didn't waste any more time. Clambering to her feet, she charged forward and with a kamikaze scream she flung herself into a flying kick. The kick connected jarringly with a vampire's chest, flooring the creature as she smashed into him. Without pause, she straightened her legs and landed perfectly, sweeping her arm out and down, her stake plunging into the vampire's heart.
Buffy was right behind her, charging headlong into the melee, her arms working a blur as she staked vamps left, right and centre. Faith rolled clear of her first kill and span up to stand back to back with the other Slayer.
"You've gotten better." She said, flipping her stake like a gunslinger. Buffy looked back over her shoulder at her.
"So have you." She said and dashed forward. Faith watched her for a moment, watched the way she moved, and then followed her in as they hurtled for the other end of the reception. She never saw the fist that flashed out and caught her in the gut. Her breath exploded out of her as she buckled and collapsed to the ground. Still gasping for air, she felt a boot press down hard on her back, as a strong fingers wound through her hair and yanked her head back.
"Just where you deserve to be Slayer." The voice in her ear was dry and raspy. It was Grachus. "On the bottom of my boot." She heard the familiar crunching sound as his face shifted.
"It's time I finished what my master began!" he hissed. Then suddenly he was off her back. Faith rolled to her feet, her breaths laboured and heavy as she tried to regain her equilibrium. Nearby Angel and Grachus had hit the ground in tangle of arms and legs, snarls of fury and rage emanating from the two of them as they rolled across the floor. Suddenly Angel had broken free and sprung to his feet. Grachus took a little longer, backward rolling away from Angel before scrambling hurriedly up into a standing position. His longer recovery gave Angel all the time he needed. Without pausing Angel swept forward, batting away a weak block and wrapping his fingers around the other vampires throat. He heaved Grachus off the ground and spun him to meet with one of the Willow controlled flying stakes that was zipping through the air. Grachus frowned in disbelief as the stake shot straight through his heart and he crumbled away into dust. Sparing only a moment to ensure Faith was all right, Angel turned and flung himself back into the battle.
"Faith!" Buffy's voice echoed over the sounds of battle. "Faith!" Faith glanced around desperately, and finally saw her. The small blonde Slayer had battled her way across the room to the elevators at the back. She gave a deep grin and set off toward the elevator. At last things were looking up.
"Which floor?" she asked as the two of them clambered inside and the doors hummed quietly shut.
"I'm sure one of the vamps said something about the sixteenth before his behaviour forced me to introduce him to the business end of Mr Pointy." Said Buffy. Faith gave a shrug.
"Who am I to argue with tact like that?" She said and hit the button for sixteen. Slowly the elevator rumbled into life.
*****
Shinji gave a frustrated growl. He'd been watching the whole thing, watched in astonishment as the witch had slung her stakes at his children, watched with pride as Grachus brought the one called Faith to the ground, watched with disgust as he had then fallen to pathetic excuse for a vampire called Angel, and finally watched with mounting horror as the two Slayers had reached the elevator. How could his children be so incompetent? They outnumbered their attackers by at least three to one! How could they have let the Slayers through? He growled furiously again, and turned back to watch the ritual.
His master had dropped to his knees as the three elected to perform the ritual stood at each point of the triangle around him, chanting softly. King's eyes were closed, an eerie sense of stillness surrounding him as he knelt there. Shinji watched as the lead of his chosen vampires slipped silently to his feet, the bowl containing the Slayer's blood clasped tightly between his dead fingers. Without a word he daubed a crude looking symbol across his master's forehead and handed him the bowl. King's eyes flashed open as the bowl was placed in his hands. The vampire retreated to his position at the head of the triangle and resumed his cross-legged seating position. Slowly the chanting resumed, the bowl still clutched tightly in King's fingers. With his index finger, he dipped into the blood and drew two more lines across his cheeks.
Shinji glanced back at his crystal spheres. The two of them were still in the elevator. He had no fear of facing one Slayer, but facing down two of them at once was perhaps tilting the odds slightly in their favour. But right now he didn't have any other choice. The rest of his children were wrapped up down in the reception area and these three were needed to complete the ritual. With a long sigh he slammed the crystals down on the table and turned to walk out of the room.
Slowly the three of his children began to rise but he waved them away.
"Complete the ritual." He said and disappeared out of the doorway. He never noticed Lilah cross the room and slip the crystals surreptitiously into her bag, before slipping out of a side door to an adjoining room.
After locking the doors, he crossed the hall outside the executive suite to the elevator doors and without even slowing down, wrenched them open and leapt into the shaft. His hands wound tightly around the cable that ran the length of the shaft, and he slithered expertly down to meet the ascending elevator.
*****
Faith was surprised, to say the least, when a thump from above shook the whole elevator carriage. Something was on the roof! She glanced at the floor counter. They were at the eleventh floor, only five more to go. She heard the slight snick from overhead, the sound of a sword being pulled free of its scabbard. She turned to Buffy who seemed to have heard it too.
"Duck!" they both yelled at each other and hit the deck just in time as a vicious steel blade ripped through the roof of the elevator and swung expertly through the air. If Faith had still been standing, she'd have been a good head shorter by now.
"It's Shinji!" she yelled over the sound of tearing metal as the sword lashed down again, this time tearing a line out of the roof at a right angle to the previous one.
"You think?" Buffy shouted back sarcastically. Faith glanced up at the counter. It read thirteen, three more floors to go. The blade punched through the roof again, once again tearing a line at ninety degrees to the last that ran parallel to the first. Then she caught sight of him, or rather his fingertips, as they slipped down through one of the gaps he had torn, wrapped tightly around the inside of piece of metal and wrenched it away leaving a jagged metal hole in the ceiling. The counter flicked from the five of fifteen to a six and the elevator let out an electronic ping as the doors hissed open. The sword flashed down again, cutting off the exit in a blur of razor sharp steel. It hummed as it cut through the air. Faith backed up slightly and charged forward, timing her role just right to sweep past the sword as it lashed out at her. She turned just in time to see Buffy try the same stunt. The smaller Slayer backed up, her lips moving as she silently counted down to herself. Suddenly and without warning she leapt forward as Shinji's sword lashed in an arc that swept across the doorway. A smile spread across Faith's face. He'd missed her; she was going to clear the door.
Buffy leapt…
…and a pale hand slipped in through the hole that had been torn in the roof. Long dexterous fingers caught her throat as she jumped and hauled her quickly up through the hole.
"Buffy!" Faith yelled starting back toward the elevator, but the other Slayers desperately swinging feet caught the button for the top floor and the doors rumbled shut as the elevator began to move off up the shaft.
"Buffy!" she yelled again, prying the doors open and wincing as she felt one of her fingernails rip as she pulled. Finally the doors slid open, but the lift was gone, rumbling up the shaft overhead. Faith cursed loudly as she watched the lift slide away into the darkness of the shaft.
Slowly she turned and stared down the corridor. There was no movement. No nothing. Was this really the right floor? She stood in silence, listening. Then she heard them, voices chanting softly from somewhere nearby. With the grace and poise of a cat she slipped forwards down the hallway pausing to listen outside each door.
Finally she drew up outside a pair of large oaken double doors. She assumed they must lead to a conference room of some sort. Just inside she could hear voices, three of them flowing in a dark sounding litany. Gingerly she tried the door. It clicked an affirmative to her suspicions. Locked. She straightened and backed away, raising her foot up high. God she hoped this worked. It always did in the movies but that was no guarantee in real life. Her foot crashed forward, the door groaned, splintered and slammed open, its puny lock splintering like a toothpick. The room beyond was like something out of Hellraiser. Its walls were painted with blood and flickering candles gave the room a sense of brooding menace. Three figures - she assumed they were vampires - dressed in strange silken robes were sat at three points of a massive triangle that was made up of four smaller triangles. Each vampire was chanting quietly, and there, sat at the very centre of the middle most triangle with his back turned to her, was King.
