3000, approximately three hours later
A cotton ball floats through the air.
Oh, wait.
Cotton balls don't just float through the air. There's a hand attached to the bit of fluff, controlling the movement.
Why is there a cotton ball? Do they make cotton balls anymore?
A sound like the wind brushes through the air over my ears. The timbre is low and scarcely audible. . . like earlier. . . I don't recall how much earlier, but I do remember. . .
I shudder at the memory. . . bright and sharp like a razor. Thankfully, I'm successful at shutting the thought down.
The sound's resonance changes, laving past more rapidly, more soothingly.
I relax. I'm safe.
"Owww!" I flinch away as the supple, moist texture touches my skin, stinging my mind back to reality.
Cool drafts flow over my hurt skin, but the hurt is nothing compared to the pain between my legs. The jagged ache scrapes over the scenes that flash through my head, leaving me pushed against the wall. My legs draw protectively to my chest, and an un-owned whimper pulses against the flesh pressed to my lips.
Fingers glide over my upper arm, bringing a touch too agonizing to bear. Like a kitten cornered by a predator, I attempt to shrink into myself and appear as small as possible. Maybe then, no one will notice me.
But the owner of the slender digits is persistent. My head involuntarily jerks to the right when the touch explores my cheek.
"Don't!" a voice raspy from. . . don't go there. Anyway, I'm not that person. No.
"Buffy! I need you to snap out of it for a minute."
My ears ring with the shout, and a veil is lifted, but I don't know how long I can hold off the danger.
"W-what?" I cough.
My eyes focus on the woman. . . vampiress before me. Lydia smiles with sympathy. . . no, empathy imprinted on her features. Her facial puffiness has lessened, but she appears tired. "You're here. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to snap out of it." She studies me for a few seconds. "Buffy, I'm not going to hurt you, but I need to tend to your wounds. Pren. . . I've only got a little bit of time and limited supplies."
"I'm okay." I'm a total liar.
"After we clean you up, sterilize your injuries, you have to put this on." She gestures to an outfit hanging on a wall hook beside us.
Beyond caring about time outside of this moment, I shrug. "Okay."
Staying passive, I allow Lydia, my past enemy, to clean the deep scratches and gouges that mar my skin. I concentrate on her ministrations to prevent myself from reviewing the events of the past hours. . . what Prenwick did to me. . . .
"What are my ladies doing?"
My bowed head shoots up to view Prenwick striding across the fairly large room. He is freshly dressed in light green, the color of life. I hadn't realized that there was an inner facility transport device in this room.
As he gets closer, my muscles instinctively react, pushing my body into Lydia. Her arms wrap around my waist unwaveringly and protectively against my trembling. "What exactly did you do to her, Prenwick?"
"Only what I've done to you, only what I've done to you, dear Lydia."
"You've done a lot of things to me, Prenwick. Doesn't answer the question."
"What's the worst I've ever done to you? Think of that. Got it?" Lydia doesn't even twitch. "Good. So, think similar action and multiply that about ten times. That's what I did to our precious Buffy."
I stare at his arm to distract myself. Bad move.
Prenwick's hand snakes out toward me, but Lydia blocks him so that he settles on her instead, gripping her throat with thick fingers. She doesn't cave to his intimidation, and he growls a message of anger at her defiance.
"I don't have time for this, Lydia. Get her dressed. The ceremony starts in fifteen minutes."
* * *
3000, ten minutes later
The room is massive. . . white, smooth walls and floor that seem to blend seamlessly together. A large demon-safe window is carved out of the ceiling that is several feet above. The most recent computer technology lines one wall, and I know from the size of the equipment that the potential power of the machinery is enormous. A myriad of demons of various types is maneuvering and making adjustments to the system.
At the center of the room just beneath the window, a huge circle is drawn with an un-nameable herb that Willow taught me is used in magic rituals. A small area that is roped off with satiny red chords is set up on the right side of the circle, and familiar faces crowd the tiny enclosure. . . Reyni, Richard, Rhonda, Spike, and Prenwick. Only Prenwick is unrestrained.
For security purposes, I'm air-strapped to the chair again, and demon guards are leading Lydia and me toward the small congregation. Somehow in the last few minutes, I've managed to force away the overwhelming horror of what Prenwick did to me in favor of focusing on the current situation. As I have done in my entire career as slayer, I push away my feelings to survive. Only now, I don't ignore my emotions after the danger is passed; I face and deal, but that comes later.
"Hello, Buffy," Prenwick greets as Lydia and I enter the group. "Lovely outfit. Guess I know how to dress my women." I'm dressed in a short black dress that hugs my body tightly. "How are you feeling after our encounter?" He winks at me. "Hope I left a mark."
You left a mark all right. My expression stays blank. "When does the ritual start?"
"Soon." He brandishes a long thin wooden instrument. "Watch." Placing the narrow end of the shaft to his lips, he inhales deeply, blowing a steady stream of air so that a high tone resounds and echoes around the room.
Deliberately, a line of figures of various shapes and sizes files through the doorway. Each is dressed in a robe of deep red like crusted blood. Before I even pick Amy out of the lineup, I sense the magic that emanates off the group. These individuals are the cloned witches and warlocks from throughout the last thousand years. As if marching to a silent thrum of music, they walk the inside of the circle until the ring is complete.
"Buffy?" Spike speaks inside my head. "Pet, are you okay?" He must sense the change in my demeanor.
"Yeah, I'm okay," I transmit silently back.
"What happened to you with Prenwick?" Concern etches his words.
"Can we talk about it later? What's the plan? Tell me that you guys have a plan." I'm attempting to sound light, but even to me, my words ring with false levity.
"There's a plan."
"Good."
The Wiccans join hands as one, and one warlock begins to chant words of a spell in Latin. Prenwick's thick fingers land on my shoulder as he stands behind me. "The ritual has begun. Soon, very soon, Earth will have no more humans." He leans forward to whisper in my ear, "And we will be together for a very long time."
The demons working on the computer system back away as the machinery springs to life with a soft hum. At the same time, the Wiccans turn to face the interior of the circle, their voices rising to join the warlock's. A glowing ball of light forms in the center of the ring. The ball begins to rise higher and higher and intensifies in luminescence as the chant continues.
"You know what the computer's for?" Prenwick asks me.
"No, but you're going to tell me, I'm sure," I reply, allowing a sardonic tenor to color my words.
"Of course, I am. The computer has the power to enhance the magic generated by the Wiccans. It allows the world's human population to be transported out of this dimension to another in a single instant. The computer focuses the energy to target human beings only."
Rhonda speaks in my head, "The plan. Richard added some features to the implant in my head. I'm about to send a signal to the computer to release my chair's restraints. Yours will be released as well. The goal is to reverse the settings on the computer; that's Richard's job. Yours, mine, and Spike's is to stop the demons."
"What about the circle?"
"We're not to disturb the circle."
"Why not?" That seems like an odd command.
"Richard's tweaking the spell."
Before I can finish my list of questions, I feel the air barriers dissolve. Prenwick's hand stiffens against me as if he senses the change. Taking advantage of the instant, I grasp his wrist and flip him forward so that he lands on his back on the ground in front of me. Spike, Richard, Reyni, Rhonda, and Lydia are up instantaneously. Over the continuing cadence of the chant, Prenwick shouts for the demon minions to aid him.
Spike is at my side and presses a wooden stake into my hand. He cups the bare skin of my elbow, shooting memories of an almost forgotten bathroom and an almost forgotten rape from long ago through my thoughts, and I wince and jerk away. Hurt flickers across his face, and I immediately regret my reflexive reaction. In the next instant, realization of the truth of what Prenwick has done to me replaces the hurt, and he shifts rapidly into his vampire mask.
"He's a dead man," Spike rumbles at me.
Prenwick has taken advantage of the delay to extricate himself from our vicinity, and a demon looms behind Spike. Without even turning, Spike uses the infusion of angry energy to drag the demon before him and snap his neck without a second thought. Then, he reaches for me, and I willingly allow him to pull me into his arms.
He nicks my earlobe with his vampire teeth and whispers hungrily, "You're mine always. And I love you, Buffy."
The power that radiates off him lends me the extra strength I need to push aside the lingering remains of the desire to run and hide. My demon pushes forth to match his, and I brush my lips against his, murmuring, "I love you, too. Don't get killed."
Then, we jump into the fray. Given that my weapon is a stake, I systematically aim for the vampires first. Rhonda seems to be mowing a path through the horde with a compact stun ray, and I pick over her scraps, staking the vampires she has stunned before they can recover. By the time I finish that task, I note that Reyni and Rhonda seem to be fending demons off Richard while he hastily works at the computer system. I don't spy Prenwick anywhere.
A large demon suddenly slams into my back, almost bowling me over, but I use his own force to slide him over my head to hit the floor in front of me. Bending forward, I snap his neck before he has a chance to recover from the impact. I whirl to search for Spike and witness him struggling to fend off several large demons while favoring his still vulnerable arm and leg. Lydia is assisting him while periodically stopping to look around for Prenwick as I have been.
Lydia and I spy the vampire we despise at virtually the same time, and we exchange a glance. I nod at her, giving her permission to take first gander at him. She understands my signal, and I slip in behind Spike to take her place at his back, kicking and punching at the demons surrounding us.
"Hi, pet, how's it going?" Spike shouts above the grunting and chanting.
"Peachy. Staked a whole lot of vamps. You?" I sidestep a body Spike sends crumbling down.
"Five demons down. Multitudes to go."
Holding a demon's arms back, Spike faces me with a struggling, flailing demon. I methodically break the demon's legs first before getting in a couple of kicks to the stomach and jaw and finally breaking his neck. Spike unceremoniously drops the lifeless body, and we return to our previous positions back to back.
At that moment, I clearly view Prenwick and Lydia fighting across the large room. Lydia hesitates, and Prenwick darts in for the kill, decapitating her with a long knife. Lydia's body bursts into dust, and violent rage ripples through me. Now, I am determined and stalk toward Prenwick, keeping my eyes set on him and pushing aside other demons who are launching themselves at me. Spike follows directly behind me, and I sense that his anger runs as deep as mine.
Prenwick sees us coming, and for once, fear touches his eyes. The demons around him have abandoned him momentarily in the interest of staying out of his fight with Lydia and tending to the wounded, leaving him exposed to attack. We just have to arrive in time to kill him before his protectors get back into place.
Before we can reach him, Richard steps into our path. "Wait. It is imperative that you get into the center of the circle now."
My eyes flash golden-yellow at him. "Why?"
Spike hurls a demon aside behind me while Rhonda is felled by another demon across the room. Reyni defends the police inspector but is clearly exhausted and leaving her left side open to attack. Meanwhile, the chanting is escalating to an almost unbearable volume, and for the first time, I notice how the room is lit with an almost blinding white light.
Blood is flowing over his cheek, but his expression is firm. "There's no time for argument or explanation. I've reversed the spell, and you have to get into the Wiccan circle. *Now*."
Kicking an approaching demon in the face and sending him staggering back, I assent, "Okay. How?"
"Between their bodies. You and Spike must go now."
"What about you and the others?"
"We will be fine. It is you and Spike who must go."
A wind has begun to swirl around the room with almost gale-like force. My voice no longer carries, and I struggle to hold myself upright against the abrasion. I search for Spike and reach out with my mind.
"Spike. Where are you?"
A cool hand slips into and squeezes mine. "I'm here."
As one, we move to the edge of the magic circle, squinting and bracing ourselves against the light and the wind. Between two Wiccans, I glide my arm through first, feeling the tingle of magic race through my veins like warm liquid. Once the safety of the action sinks into my mind, I plunge the rest of the way through with Spike directly behind me. The winds are absent in the circle, but the light and sound intensify, so Spike and I huddle in a small pile with his body shielding mine and with our hands pressed over our ears.
Minutes pass. Then, the sound and light dissipates, leaving a hollow, echoing void that Spike and I adjust to slowly. Blinking in the pervasive darkness, my eyes peer around the room. Spike and I help each other up. All the witches and warlocks have fallen into a heap like dominoes, and everyone outside the circle is frozen in shock.
Spike steps forth and touches two of the Wiccans, searching for a pulse because our ears have not yet recovered enough to hear heartbeats. "Nothing. They're dead," his voice signals quietly in my head.
Just then, the familiar form of Prenwick looms behind Spike. Hate marring his face, Prenwick raises the knife to slice off Spike's head.
My eyes widen, and I shout in Spike's head, "Duck!"
Spike abides by my directive and goes down, but Prenwick stops mid- swing. Confusion washes over his face, and he stares down at his body with uncertainty. I watch as his form begins to lose solidity, and his limbs begin disappearing. The truth dawns in his eyes, and he glares up at me. Before thinking, I raise the stake that I still grasp and hurtle the wood at him, piercing his heart in the final instant before he is completely gone.
TBC. . . What happened to Prenwick? What will happen to Richard, Rhonda, and Reyni? What did Richard do to the spell and why? All these questions and more will be answered in the next chapter! Hope you enjoyed the climactic scene! Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! ;o) Sandy
A cotton ball floats through the air.
Oh, wait.
Cotton balls don't just float through the air. There's a hand attached to the bit of fluff, controlling the movement.
Why is there a cotton ball? Do they make cotton balls anymore?
A sound like the wind brushes through the air over my ears. The timbre is low and scarcely audible. . . like earlier. . . I don't recall how much earlier, but I do remember. . .
I shudder at the memory. . . bright and sharp like a razor. Thankfully, I'm successful at shutting the thought down.
The sound's resonance changes, laving past more rapidly, more soothingly.
I relax. I'm safe.
"Owww!" I flinch away as the supple, moist texture touches my skin, stinging my mind back to reality.
Cool drafts flow over my hurt skin, but the hurt is nothing compared to the pain between my legs. The jagged ache scrapes over the scenes that flash through my head, leaving me pushed against the wall. My legs draw protectively to my chest, and an un-owned whimper pulses against the flesh pressed to my lips.
Fingers glide over my upper arm, bringing a touch too agonizing to bear. Like a kitten cornered by a predator, I attempt to shrink into myself and appear as small as possible. Maybe then, no one will notice me.
But the owner of the slender digits is persistent. My head involuntarily jerks to the right when the touch explores my cheek.
"Don't!" a voice raspy from. . . don't go there. Anyway, I'm not that person. No.
"Buffy! I need you to snap out of it for a minute."
My ears ring with the shout, and a veil is lifted, but I don't know how long I can hold off the danger.
"W-what?" I cough.
My eyes focus on the woman. . . vampiress before me. Lydia smiles with sympathy. . . no, empathy imprinted on her features. Her facial puffiness has lessened, but she appears tired. "You're here. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to snap out of it." She studies me for a few seconds. "Buffy, I'm not going to hurt you, but I need to tend to your wounds. Pren. . . I've only got a little bit of time and limited supplies."
"I'm okay." I'm a total liar.
"After we clean you up, sterilize your injuries, you have to put this on." She gestures to an outfit hanging on a wall hook beside us.
Beyond caring about time outside of this moment, I shrug. "Okay."
Staying passive, I allow Lydia, my past enemy, to clean the deep scratches and gouges that mar my skin. I concentrate on her ministrations to prevent myself from reviewing the events of the past hours. . . what Prenwick did to me. . . .
"What are my ladies doing?"
My bowed head shoots up to view Prenwick striding across the fairly large room. He is freshly dressed in light green, the color of life. I hadn't realized that there was an inner facility transport device in this room.
As he gets closer, my muscles instinctively react, pushing my body into Lydia. Her arms wrap around my waist unwaveringly and protectively against my trembling. "What exactly did you do to her, Prenwick?"
"Only what I've done to you, only what I've done to you, dear Lydia."
"You've done a lot of things to me, Prenwick. Doesn't answer the question."
"What's the worst I've ever done to you? Think of that. Got it?" Lydia doesn't even twitch. "Good. So, think similar action and multiply that about ten times. That's what I did to our precious Buffy."
I stare at his arm to distract myself. Bad move.
Prenwick's hand snakes out toward me, but Lydia blocks him so that he settles on her instead, gripping her throat with thick fingers. She doesn't cave to his intimidation, and he growls a message of anger at her defiance.
"I don't have time for this, Lydia. Get her dressed. The ceremony starts in fifteen minutes."
* * *
3000, ten minutes later
The room is massive. . . white, smooth walls and floor that seem to blend seamlessly together. A large demon-safe window is carved out of the ceiling that is several feet above. The most recent computer technology lines one wall, and I know from the size of the equipment that the potential power of the machinery is enormous. A myriad of demons of various types is maneuvering and making adjustments to the system.
At the center of the room just beneath the window, a huge circle is drawn with an un-nameable herb that Willow taught me is used in magic rituals. A small area that is roped off with satiny red chords is set up on the right side of the circle, and familiar faces crowd the tiny enclosure. . . Reyni, Richard, Rhonda, Spike, and Prenwick. Only Prenwick is unrestrained.
For security purposes, I'm air-strapped to the chair again, and demon guards are leading Lydia and me toward the small congregation. Somehow in the last few minutes, I've managed to force away the overwhelming horror of what Prenwick did to me in favor of focusing on the current situation. As I have done in my entire career as slayer, I push away my feelings to survive. Only now, I don't ignore my emotions after the danger is passed; I face and deal, but that comes later.
"Hello, Buffy," Prenwick greets as Lydia and I enter the group. "Lovely outfit. Guess I know how to dress my women." I'm dressed in a short black dress that hugs my body tightly. "How are you feeling after our encounter?" He winks at me. "Hope I left a mark."
You left a mark all right. My expression stays blank. "When does the ritual start?"
"Soon." He brandishes a long thin wooden instrument. "Watch." Placing the narrow end of the shaft to his lips, he inhales deeply, blowing a steady stream of air so that a high tone resounds and echoes around the room.
Deliberately, a line of figures of various shapes and sizes files through the doorway. Each is dressed in a robe of deep red like crusted blood. Before I even pick Amy out of the lineup, I sense the magic that emanates off the group. These individuals are the cloned witches and warlocks from throughout the last thousand years. As if marching to a silent thrum of music, they walk the inside of the circle until the ring is complete.
"Buffy?" Spike speaks inside my head. "Pet, are you okay?" He must sense the change in my demeanor.
"Yeah, I'm okay," I transmit silently back.
"What happened to you with Prenwick?" Concern etches his words.
"Can we talk about it later? What's the plan? Tell me that you guys have a plan." I'm attempting to sound light, but even to me, my words ring with false levity.
"There's a plan."
"Good."
The Wiccans join hands as one, and one warlock begins to chant words of a spell in Latin. Prenwick's thick fingers land on my shoulder as he stands behind me. "The ritual has begun. Soon, very soon, Earth will have no more humans." He leans forward to whisper in my ear, "And we will be together for a very long time."
The demons working on the computer system back away as the machinery springs to life with a soft hum. At the same time, the Wiccans turn to face the interior of the circle, their voices rising to join the warlock's. A glowing ball of light forms in the center of the ring. The ball begins to rise higher and higher and intensifies in luminescence as the chant continues.
"You know what the computer's for?" Prenwick asks me.
"No, but you're going to tell me, I'm sure," I reply, allowing a sardonic tenor to color my words.
"Of course, I am. The computer has the power to enhance the magic generated by the Wiccans. It allows the world's human population to be transported out of this dimension to another in a single instant. The computer focuses the energy to target human beings only."
Rhonda speaks in my head, "The plan. Richard added some features to the implant in my head. I'm about to send a signal to the computer to release my chair's restraints. Yours will be released as well. The goal is to reverse the settings on the computer; that's Richard's job. Yours, mine, and Spike's is to stop the demons."
"What about the circle?"
"We're not to disturb the circle."
"Why not?" That seems like an odd command.
"Richard's tweaking the spell."
Before I can finish my list of questions, I feel the air barriers dissolve. Prenwick's hand stiffens against me as if he senses the change. Taking advantage of the instant, I grasp his wrist and flip him forward so that he lands on his back on the ground in front of me. Spike, Richard, Reyni, Rhonda, and Lydia are up instantaneously. Over the continuing cadence of the chant, Prenwick shouts for the demon minions to aid him.
Spike is at my side and presses a wooden stake into my hand. He cups the bare skin of my elbow, shooting memories of an almost forgotten bathroom and an almost forgotten rape from long ago through my thoughts, and I wince and jerk away. Hurt flickers across his face, and I immediately regret my reflexive reaction. In the next instant, realization of the truth of what Prenwick has done to me replaces the hurt, and he shifts rapidly into his vampire mask.
"He's a dead man," Spike rumbles at me.
Prenwick has taken advantage of the delay to extricate himself from our vicinity, and a demon looms behind Spike. Without even turning, Spike uses the infusion of angry energy to drag the demon before him and snap his neck without a second thought. Then, he reaches for me, and I willingly allow him to pull me into his arms.
He nicks my earlobe with his vampire teeth and whispers hungrily, "You're mine always. And I love you, Buffy."
The power that radiates off him lends me the extra strength I need to push aside the lingering remains of the desire to run and hide. My demon pushes forth to match his, and I brush my lips against his, murmuring, "I love you, too. Don't get killed."
Then, we jump into the fray. Given that my weapon is a stake, I systematically aim for the vampires first. Rhonda seems to be mowing a path through the horde with a compact stun ray, and I pick over her scraps, staking the vampires she has stunned before they can recover. By the time I finish that task, I note that Reyni and Rhonda seem to be fending demons off Richard while he hastily works at the computer system. I don't spy Prenwick anywhere.
A large demon suddenly slams into my back, almost bowling me over, but I use his own force to slide him over my head to hit the floor in front of me. Bending forward, I snap his neck before he has a chance to recover from the impact. I whirl to search for Spike and witness him struggling to fend off several large demons while favoring his still vulnerable arm and leg. Lydia is assisting him while periodically stopping to look around for Prenwick as I have been.
Lydia and I spy the vampire we despise at virtually the same time, and we exchange a glance. I nod at her, giving her permission to take first gander at him. She understands my signal, and I slip in behind Spike to take her place at his back, kicking and punching at the demons surrounding us.
"Hi, pet, how's it going?" Spike shouts above the grunting and chanting.
"Peachy. Staked a whole lot of vamps. You?" I sidestep a body Spike sends crumbling down.
"Five demons down. Multitudes to go."
Holding a demon's arms back, Spike faces me with a struggling, flailing demon. I methodically break the demon's legs first before getting in a couple of kicks to the stomach and jaw and finally breaking his neck. Spike unceremoniously drops the lifeless body, and we return to our previous positions back to back.
At that moment, I clearly view Prenwick and Lydia fighting across the large room. Lydia hesitates, and Prenwick darts in for the kill, decapitating her with a long knife. Lydia's body bursts into dust, and violent rage ripples through me. Now, I am determined and stalk toward Prenwick, keeping my eyes set on him and pushing aside other demons who are launching themselves at me. Spike follows directly behind me, and I sense that his anger runs as deep as mine.
Prenwick sees us coming, and for once, fear touches his eyes. The demons around him have abandoned him momentarily in the interest of staying out of his fight with Lydia and tending to the wounded, leaving him exposed to attack. We just have to arrive in time to kill him before his protectors get back into place.
Before we can reach him, Richard steps into our path. "Wait. It is imperative that you get into the center of the circle now."
My eyes flash golden-yellow at him. "Why?"
Spike hurls a demon aside behind me while Rhonda is felled by another demon across the room. Reyni defends the police inspector but is clearly exhausted and leaving her left side open to attack. Meanwhile, the chanting is escalating to an almost unbearable volume, and for the first time, I notice how the room is lit with an almost blinding white light.
Blood is flowing over his cheek, but his expression is firm. "There's no time for argument or explanation. I've reversed the spell, and you have to get into the Wiccan circle. *Now*."
Kicking an approaching demon in the face and sending him staggering back, I assent, "Okay. How?"
"Between their bodies. You and Spike must go now."
"What about you and the others?"
"We will be fine. It is you and Spike who must go."
A wind has begun to swirl around the room with almost gale-like force. My voice no longer carries, and I struggle to hold myself upright against the abrasion. I search for Spike and reach out with my mind.
"Spike. Where are you?"
A cool hand slips into and squeezes mine. "I'm here."
As one, we move to the edge of the magic circle, squinting and bracing ourselves against the light and the wind. Between two Wiccans, I glide my arm through first, feeling the tingle of magic race through my veins like warm liquid. Once the safety of the action sinks into my mind, I plunge the rest of the way through with Spike directly behind me. The winds are absent in the circle, but the light and sound intensify, so Spike and I huddle in a small pile with his body shielding mine and with our hands pressed over our ears.
Minutes pass. Then, the sound and light dissipates, leaving a hollow, echoing void that Spike and I adjust to slowly. Blinking in the pervasive darkness, my eyes peer around the room. Spike and I help each other up. All the witches and warlocks have fallen into a heap like dominoes, and everyone outside the circle is frozen in shock.
Spike steps forth and touches two of the Wiccans, searching for a pulse because our ears have not yet recovered enough to hear heartbeats. "Nothing. They're dead," his voice signals quietly in my head.
Just then, the familiar form of Prenwick looms behind Spike. Hate marring his face, Prenwick raises the knife to slice off Spike's head.
My eyes widen, and I shout in Spike's head, "Duck!"
Spike abides by my directive and goes down, but Prenwick stops mid- swing. Confusion washes over his face, and he stares down at his body with uncertainty. I watch as his form begins to lose solidity, and his limbs begin disappearing. The truth dawns in his eyes, and he glares up at me. Before thinking, I raise the stake that I still grasp and hurtle the wood at him, piercing his heart in the final instant before he is completely gone.
TBC. . . What happened to Prenwick? What will happen to Richard, Rhonda, and Reyni? What did Richard do to the spell and why? All these questions and more will be answered in the next chapter! Hope you enjoyed the climactic scene! Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! ;o) Sandy