/Soveliss?/
Kaine righted himself and brushed dust of his skin tight suit, sheathing his sword into a loop by his belt. The glow had faded, and the blade was no more than plain steel.
/I am here, Kaine/ his sword replied.
/Where are we?/
/Earth/
/I've never been here before/
/Don't worry. I have/
/Anything I should take note of?/
/Nothing in particular. Head west of here/
Here was a cemetery, rows and rows of graves, some empty. Kaine realized that it was nighttime but paid it little attention. Hand on his sword hilt, the young man took a few careful steps to his right, listening closely.
/What exactly is the problem, Soveliss?/
The sentient sword was silent, and Kaine cursed its fickleness. Then he heard it, the shrill shriek that pierced the still air. He broke into a run, recognizing the sound as a sign of trouble. It wasn't long until he saw the three vampires bearing down on a teenage girl.
/Does that answer your question?/
Kaine had no time to reflect on the sword's dry humor as he launched himself into a leap, blade clearing it's simple sheathe. He was facing the vampires, and they noticed him too late. The razor sharp edge of his sword slashed at the demon face of the middle vampire, taking the top part of its head off. The other two recoiled in shock and the young warrior took full advantage of the lapse. Even as his feet touched the ground, he was launching himself into a forward flip, drawing the vampires away from the girl.
He landed with his back to them and spun, raising his weapon high to block any blows that might be coming his way. There were none, and Kaine saw only one vampire facing him. The other was holding the girl by the throat, using her as a shield.
/Smart/ commented Soveliss.
Kaine smirked and lunged forward, sword low, tip pointing towards the ground near his left boot. He brought the blade upwards in a diagonal slash, meant to split the vampire in half. Even using his weaker right hand, he could accomplish that task easily.
Overconfidence was a failing.
The vampire hopped backwards, out of the reach of his blade, and came in quickly, thudding his fist into Kaine's exposed chest. The young warrior grunted, then brought his sword slashing down into the vampire's shoulder. It bit into the demon's ribs, then caught on bone. Kaine tugged at it, but the weapon refused to be dislodged.
/Sloppy/
Kaine once more cursed his sword and let go the hilt, resorting instead to kicking the vampire in the side. The vampire fell on its back, overbalanced by the added weight of the sword. Kaine planted his boot into its chest, taking a mild satisfaction in hearing bone snap. Using his foot as an anchor, he pulled his sword clear and lopped the head off the undead creature with one swing.
He turned to the last vampire, who still had one hand wrapped around the girl's throat, holding her in front as a protective barrier. " Put the sword down, and no one gets hurt," it threatened, tightening its hold slightly. Kaine saw the girl gasp and start choking and his brow furrowed in anger. " Slow and easy, man. No sudden moves,"
Kaine knelt slowly on one knee, placing his weapon on the grass before him. Surreptitiously, he slid a dagger out of his boot and held it inwards, so his forearm concealed it from view. He rose and backed away, still glowering at the vampire.
" Good, keep moving," the vampire said, also backing away. It had relaxed slightly and the moment its foot left the ground, Kaine acted.
His arm shot out, the dagger flipping end over end on a deadly path towards the vampire. The demon only had time to widen its eyes and try to raise an arm to bat the knife away, but too late. The blade buried itself to the hilt in the perfect center of its forehead. It reflexively released the girl and Kaine charged forward, running low to grab his sword off the grass. The vampire was staggering back, stunned. The girl huddled by its feet, impeding Kaine's path to his target. He improvised.
Another step and he would have tripped over the girl. Stopping for a split second, to bring his feet together, he leapt into the air, twisting even as his body flipped head over heels. He landed on his feet, behind the vampire, facing its back. The vampire didn't even notice as his sword sheared through its thick neck, separating its head from its body. It dissolved into a pile of ash moments later. Kaine sheathed Soveliss and walked towards the girl.
/That took too long/ the weapon scolded. Kaine ignored it. The girl was curled in a fetal position, shivering from fear and shock. When Kaine gingerly touched her shoulder, she flinched and uttered a small squeal. Taken aback, the young man recoiled, eyes wide.
" Are you alright?" he asked, in a melodious, lilting accent. His voice was light and casual, trying to bring the girl back to her senses. He reached out a hand again, tentatively, not wanting to scare her. This time, when his fingers touched her arm, she didn't flinch, but tensed. He persisted, after some contemplation, running his hand down the length of her arm to comfort her. Apparently, the soothing strokes had effect, as she slowly turned around to face him. He smiled warmly, hoping he looked reassuring. " You're safe now. Don't worry,"
She leapt into his arms, wrapping her own around his chest, holding onto him for dear life. Kaine realized that she was sobbing into his chest and his arms encircled her thin waist, lifting her easily. He held her, until she stopped crying and she fell asleep, still in his embrace.
++++++
Anyone who remotely knew Tristan Cole, would assume that he and Faustus were perfect for each other. Faustus was malicious, callously contemptuous and powerful. One look at Tristan would tell anyone the same. He had a gaunt, anemic face and ice-blue eyes. Long black hair flowed loose about his shoulders, weaving in and out of the collar of his black duster. He was tall, rangy and sinewy; his gait and bearing telling anyone that he was not a man to be trifled with. But it was his expressionless face and emotionless eyes that gave them pause and struck fear into their hearts.
At first glance, women would call him attractive, in a haunting, almost feminine way. But once they were impaled by his icy gaze, they would shudder and hope not to look in his eyes again. Right now, Tristan was aware that no one was actually looking at him, content with sly, surreptitious glances. He didn't mind. He nursed a cup of coffee, studying the crowd through the window.
But Tristan didn't like that he was working for Faustus, not one bit. But he had to, because he was a man of his word and his oath was sealed by blood. So he gritted his teeth and did what Faustus wanted him to, no matter how distasteful he found it. It wasn't the actual act of killing that bothered Tristan, but the fact that he was killing for Faustus.
Then one man passed by the window of the coffeehouse, carrying a briefcase. Tristan pushed away his barely touched coffee and left.
++++++
When Buffy woke up, shortly after dawn, she couldn't remember a thing. Then it slowly came back to her, the demon, being cut open and lying on the grass, waiting for the final blow to come, regretting the fact that she didn't get to say her good-byes. Then she remembered seeing Xander and Faith. That brought her bolting upright. Then she winced as a pain stabbed into her belly. The wounds hadn't completely healed yet.
" Hey,"
It was Riley, sitting by the bed, looking concernedly at her. She gave him a faltering smile and squeezed the hand on her lap. " You okay? You took quite a beating,"
" I'm fine. How long was I asleep?"
" About ten hours, I guess. Giles says the stitches can come off soon,"
" Stitches?" Buffy's hand strayed to her stomach and she felt the tiny rises underneath the shirt she wore. It was one of Giles'; her own clothes were lying in a bloody heap on the floor.
" Yeah, Faith stitched you up," Riley explained.
" Faith? She's here?" Buffy tried to slide off the bed, but Riley held her firmly in place.
" Yes she's here, and so is Xander. But you're not getting up because you need your rest,"
" I wanna see them," she replied stubbornly and pushed his hands away. Riley knew better than to argue when she had her 'resolve face' on. He raised his hands in a show of defeat and helped her to her feet.
When she gingerly walked out the door, she didn't know what to expect. But seeing Faith and Xander sleeping on the couch, lying in each others arms was definitely not it. " What the hell?" she blurted out, quite unintentionally. It must have been louder than she expected, because Faith and Xander awoke, shaking themselves groggily.
" What time is it?" Faith yawned, sitting up and stretching. Xander ungracefully rolled of the couch and looked at his watch.
" Eight," he replied blearily. Faith promptly fell back onto the couch and resumed sleeping. Xander picked himself off the floor and started when he saw Buffy glaring at him. Riley was standing behind her. Xander thought he was a nice guy, if a little boring. " Oh, you're awake,"
" And so are you," the Slayer replied, rather icily. " Might I ask what you're doing here?"
" Saving your ass from demons about to rip you apart,"
" Did I ask for it?"
" The fact that you were bleeding all over the ground was pretty much a cry for help,"
" Hey, keep it down over there," Faith mumbled. " I'm trying to sleep,"
" Why'd you come back, Xander? I thought you didn't want to see us anymore," Buffy demanded, folding her arms over her chest. She suppressed the involuntarily grimace of pain that accompanied the action, hoping Xander didn't detect it.
" I don't. But I don't wanna see you dead, either,"
" I doubt you could do anything to prevent that from happening," Buffy countered acidly. Xander reacted in a totally unexpected manner. He grinned and cocked an eyebrow.
" But I did, Buffy. Remember when you nearly drowned?"
Buffy's eyes widened and she opened her mouth to retort, but at that moment, the door opened and in walked Giles and two men she didn't know. They were talking, arguing more like it, but they all stopped abruptly when they saw the staring contest between Xander and Buffy. Giles rushed forward, concern etched across his face.
" Buffy! Are you alright?" he asked, wanting to inspect her wounds but not sure where to place his hands. Without taking her eyes of Xander, Buffy nodded, eyes smoldering. Doyle stepped in, brandishing a set of keys.
" We got rooms at the motel," he announced, tossing one key at Xander, who nimbly plucked it out of the air. The younger man stood and pocketed the key, keeping his gaze on Buffy.
" Good. I have this feeling that we overstayed our welcome," he smirked slightly at Buffy and turned to shake Faith awake. " Hey, Faith. Let's go,"
The brunette Slayer reluctantly stood and stumbled for the door, yawning. She didn't look at Buffy, didn't even acknowledge her presence. She didn't feel as if she could face up to the challenge yet.
" Thanks for letting us stay the night, Giles. Don't forget to tell the rest, huh?" Xander said, patting the Watcher on the shoulder. The Englishman was still reeling from the sudden turn of events and could only offer a bewildered nod. By the time he found something suitable to say, they were gone.
++++++
" That went well," Faith muttered sarcastically, as they walked to Doyle's convertible. Xander snorted and ran a hand through his hair, wincing when it caught in a snarl. " At least you didn't hurt each other,"
" Physically, you mean,"
Doyle and Gunn walked a respectful distance ahead, knowing when to leave the two in privacy. Xander absently watched them playfully shove each other, arguing incessantly.
" At least you could talk. I could barely look at her," Faith admitted, studying the tips of her toes as they tapped the gravel. " I thought I was prepared for this, but when the time came, I froze. I was wicked scared, Xander,"
Xander looked sharply at her, but could only see her long hair covering her face. It must have been really hard for her to admit that fact, and Xander was all the more pleased he was the one she had talked to.
" Hey, don't worry. There'll always be a next time," he assured her, resting a casual hand on her shoulder. Apparently she wasn't ready for intimate gestures yet, as she shrugged away his hand.
" You sure about that?"
Her voice was hardly a whisper, but it shocked him with all the force of a sledgehammer. He whirled around to face her, gripping her shoulders tightly. She didn't resist, only looked down. Her entire posture and attitude made it apparent that she felt defeated and weary, too tired for the fight.
" Don't talk like that!" he didn't shout, but the hardness of his voice made her flinch. " Look, Faith, I know it's hard for you, but you gotta keep trying, you know? If you give up like that, who else is gonna pick up your slack? You're the Slayer, Faith, the one girl chosen to fight the forces of darkness. All of us, me, Gunn, Doyle. We're just your helpers, your backup. And if you falter, we don't stand a chance,"
" But I'm so scared, Xander,"
" Of what? You face demons and vampires every night without even caring about defense and suddenly you're scared of Buffy? Faith, you're better than her. You touched darkness, but you fought it, you came back. You're tainted by it, and it makes you the better person in the end, because you withstood it. If Buffy can't see that, then she isn't the girl we thought she was,"
Faith didn't react, and Xander wondered if she even heard what he said. Then she nodded, shakily, then pushed his hands away. They stood in silence for a while, until Faith unexpectedly said, " We should go, the guys are waiting,"
She brushed past him and Xander looked at her, praying that she wouldn't stumble and fall on her rocky path.
++++++
" Xander and Faith are back," Giles announced.
" What? When? Where?" Willow exclaimed, rising from her chair and nearly climbing onto Giles in her enthusiasm.
" One question at a time, Willow. Now, sit down and let me explain. I was enjoying a cup of tea last night when there was a sudden pounding on my door. Even as I stood to answer it, the door flew open and in walked—"
" Faith and Xander?" Willow interjected. Giles looked at her and she sat back down, blushing.
" Yes, and they were accompanied by two men, I didn't know. Faith was also carrying a grievously injured Buffy,"
Riley frowned and wrapped his arm protectively around Buffy's shoulders. He was put out by not being alerted of Buffy's injuries earlier.
" We tended to Buffy's wounds and Xander explained the circumstances of his return. It seemed that Doyle, one of his companions, whom I'm sure you will meet soon, is a messenger for the Powers That Be,"
" Powers That Be? Be what?" Buffy interrupted, as Giles expected she would. He had reacted the same way.
" They appear to be the higher power for good and Doyle is their messenger," the Watcher explained, with as much patience as he could muster.
" Like God and his prophets?" Tara ventured. Giles nodded, a bemused expression on his face.
" I suppose you could put it that way. But Doyle receives visions of people in trouble or of things that are to happen,"
" Visions?" Buffy cut in.
" Well, he described it as big, bloody migraines with pictures in them," Giles replied, slightly abashed.
" So he got a vision of me being attacked, so that's why they came?"
" No actually. They claimed that they happened on you quite by chance,"
" So why did they come back then?"
Giles wiped his glasses on a piece of cloth, his brow furrowed in concentration and worry. The Scoobies waited patiently for him to continue, although Buffy was running short of patience.
" Doyle received a vision, yes, but not of you. In fact he was quite puzzled as to why he didn't. The vision he received was that of Sunnydale's imminent destruction and the death of both Slayers,"
++++++
Professor Isaac Townsend, of UC Sunnydale's History faculty, sat at his desk, lit only by a fluorescent table lamp. In front of him lay an unrolled scroll, made out of yellowed, cracked parchment. It was long, almost five feet from tip to end and covered in an indecipherable script on both sides. It was written in a scrawling hand, the black ink still bright and unmarred. It somewhat resembled ancient Sanskrit, but some research had proved that theory wrong.
Professor Townsend had called his colleague and close friend, Lazslo Kriezler, a language expert. He might prove to be of some assistance in making out the content of the scroll.
The professor's hands shook as his gaze ran down the length of the parchment. It was an important find, dated to the ancient Canaanites. It was found in an underground tomb in Jerusalem, by workers who had been fixing gas pipes. The scroll would provide an important insight on the lifestyle of the Canaanites, people who had died out more than six thousand years ago.
A scuffing sound from behind made him turn around, nervous and sweating despite the cool air. The office was completely dark and empty except for himself. He shook his head and turned back to the scroll, only to find it gone. He gasped and stood up hurriedly, knocking his chair over. His heart pounded painfully in his chest, his breath came in short, hitching sobs. He whirled around as another scuffing sound echoed through the room. Again, he saw no one.
He tried to calm himself down and relax. There was no one in the office except for him. The scroll must have slipped off the table and had fallen onto the floor. He was bending down to look under the table when yet another scuffing noise made him whip around, speed belying his pudgy frame. He straightened and stared at the murky shadows in the far corner. There was a flash of movement and his eyes widened. He saw the glitter of a knife as moonlight reflected off the blade. His eyes widened, and then there was a blinding lance of pain in his left temple.
Then the world went dark, and Professor Townsend's hold on life slipped.
++++++
For Buffy, the scene was just way too familiar.
She was at the Bronze, with Riley, Willow and Tara. First she saw a girl, lean and beautiful, dark hair flowing about her elfin face. She was dancing, wild, carefree, attracting every straight male from all four corners of the dance floor. She wore a long sleeved lavender pullover, torn at the waist so the material just managed to cover her breasts. She also wore a black skirt, the sort that came with a summer dress. Even that was torn, so it came up scandalously high on her thighs. A black leather choker encircled her neck, she wore black hiking boots. Several bracelets jangled on her wrists. Five identical obsidian rings adorned each finger of her right hand.
Then she was dancing with a vampire, and heading out the backdoor. Buffy had moved on instinct and reaction, not really thinking, her friends on her heels. When she reached the alley, she stopped dead in her tracks. The girl was beating up the vampire, hard and efficient.
It was a consolation, albeit a small one, that the girl didn't fight with the fury and rage Faith employed. Instead, she was cool and technical, face impassive. The only emotion she revealed was a barely suppressed fury in her green eyes.
" Wh-who are you?" Buffy asked, once the vampire dust had settled. The girl's head whipped around, gaze icy and slightly scary. She stood, smoothing her skirt, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
" I'm no one important. Nothing happened here," she said, voice flat. " Go away and never mention this again,"
She made to brush past Buffy, but the blonde Slayer grabbed her arm and held on tight, forcing the girl to look at her. The girl frowned, noticing Buffy's strength. Then her free hand clamped onto Buffy's wrist and forcefully twisted it off her arm. Buffy's eyes widened, and found that the girl was much stronger than her.
" Never touch me," the girl snarled. Then she relaxed, facing Buffy down. She was short, just slightly taller than Buffy, and their eyes met squarely. " You're Buffy, aren't you?"
Her head was tilted to the side, eyes inquisitive. Buffy was barely aware of her friends behind her, watching with a certain amount of tension. Willow had gone through this once, and feared that they might have found another Faith.
" Yeah. And who are you?"
" My name's Dannielle Hayle. I'm the Slayer,"
++++++
They headed straight for Giles' place. Dannielle hadn't argued, just followed Buffy's lead quietly. Maybe that was a good sign. Giles was on the phone, but hung up when he saw Dannielle. He frowned, ushering them to sit.
" Giles, this is Dannielle. She's a Slayer," Buffy said. The Watcher's face drained of all blood and he swiped his glasses off his face to wipe them on his shirt. He usually used a piece of cloth, Buffy noted. He must really be worried. " If she's the Slayer, that means that Faith must have…" Buffy continued.
" Who's Faith?" Dannielle interjected suddenly. She had barely said two words since they'd come across her, so her question came as sort of a surprise.
" Faith is another Slayer. She came before you," Buffy explained. Giles was in no condition to talk, and the Scoobies were content with a watching role.
" Oh. Cool,"
She strolled over to a bookshelf, studying the titles with a rapt expression on her face. Buffy watched her for a while, then looked back at Giles, wondering if he had recovered already.
" Did Xander tell you anything about Faith? You know, maybe she died or something?"
Giles replaced the glasses on his face, then took them off to pinch the bridge of his nose. " No, no he didn't,"
" Maybe we should go ask him then," Willow offered. Buffy stiffened slightly, her muscles tense. She really didn't want to see Xander right now. " It may have slipped his mind and he forgot to tell you. Anyway, we still haven't seen him yet,"
Willow was eager to see him, but Buffy was not. Willow might think that Xander returning was the best thing since the toaster, but Buffy had that event down on the same list as Angelus and the Master.
" Did he say hello or something? Did he say he wanted to see me?" Willow was still babbling, and it was getting on her nerves.
" Willow,"
The tone of her voice made the redhead stop instantly. " Lets not talk about Xander right now, okay?" Willow had barely nodded when Dannielle spoke again.
" Who's this Xander you keep babbling about?"
All heads turned to look at her. She looked back with an innocent expression on her face. " What? Is talking a bad thing?"
" Xander is an old friend. He works with Faith," Willow supplied helpfully. Dannielle nodded, then turned back to the books.
" Umm, Dannielle?" Giles was talking and taking charge again. That was a good thing.
" Yeah?" she looked at the still pale man. " You're the Watcher, right?"
" Yes, that's right. Speaking of which, where is your Watcher?"
" Dead, run through with a sword,"
Buffy wasn't sure which was worse; the information, or the careless, offhand way it was given. Dannielle seemed unperturbed by the fact that her Watcher was dead, and was back to reading the book titles with the same emotionless mask she wore when fighting the vampire.
" Uh, I'm sorry to hear that," Giles said, weakly, a little late. Dannielle shrugged.
" Okay. Can we talk about something else?"
" Umm, alright. What brings you to Sunnydale, Dannielle?"
" Patty died, and she told me to find you," she pointed at Buffy. " So I did,"
" I assume Patty was your Watcher?"
" No shit, Sherlock,"
" Why?" Buffy interrupted, severely unsettled by the girl's behavior. She was much too callous for a teen and way too nonchalant. No one talked about death that way, absolutely no one. Either it was a defense mechanism, or just an act, like Faith's bravado. Whatever it was, Buffy didn't like it much.
" The guys that killed her, they were looking for me. So I guess it was for protection or something," Dannielle replied with a shrug. Then she snorted. " Like I even need it. Sometimes I think Patty was really condescending, y'know?"
" You don't seem very disturbed by her death," Buffy noted.
" I'll find time to grieve later, maybe when there aren't people trying to kidnap me,"
" Who are these people? Why do they want you?" Giles asked.
" Beats the shit outta me. All I know is that they've got vamps and demons working with humans," Dannielle replied, just a little too glibly. A crack in the unyielding surface of the gem, Buffy thought.
" Humans? Were they wearing bronze rings by any chance?" Giles asked again.
" Nah, it wasn't Taraka. Those guys learnt their lesson the last time," she saw the looks everyone was giving her and chuckled. " What?"
Buffy shook her head, a little exasperated. " If you're not afraid of Taraka, why are you scared shitless of these guys?"
Maybe it was Buffy's imagination, but she thought she saw Dannielle shiver slightly. " Well, those Taraka assholes were like, all business, y'know? But these guys, they're different. It's like they have a job to do, but don't mind a little mayhem and destruction on the side. It's like they get off on it,"
" Any thoughts Giles? These kinda guys have gotta be mentioned somewhere right?" Riley pointed out, his first words since they met Dannielle. Apparently, he had also been studying the new Slayer's behavior and character, trying to assess her. It was one of the first things they thought in the military.
" I might have. Tell me, Dannielle. Did these men have strange facial tattoos? Possibly on their cheeks, slightly resembling scars?"
Dannielle nodded, frowning. " Now that you mention it, yeah. Umm, there were a few variations but it was mostly the same," She had her arms folded under her breasts and her furrowed brow gave her a look of absolute concentration. " They also had this weird spiky armor, and really big swords,"
" Swords?" Tara cut in. " That's bad, isn't it?"
" Don't worry, Buffy's got swords too," Willow reassured her girlfriend, stroking the taller girl's arm affectionately. Buffy happened to be looking at Dannielle, to see her reaction on Willow and Tara's relationship. The girl merely raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. And then, Buffy saw a flicker of emotion pass across the girl's face, a momentary show of weakness. It was hard to tell, but Buffy thought her eyes got rather wistful and longing. Strange. She glanced at Riley and he nodded, to say that he'd noticed it too.
Giles on the other hand, was stroking his chin, lost in his thoughts. Abruptly, he turned and left the room, leaving the others alone for several minutes. These minutes were tense, with Dannielle staring hard at Buffy, who stared right back, and Riley trying hard to attract Dannielle's attention while Willow and Tara looked on with a certain measure of nervousness. Not a word was said until Giles came back, book in hand.
" I have a reference on these men you mentioned," he announced, head buried deep in the tome. Buffy broke her gaze, glad to be free from the other Slayer's frigid eyes. The Wiccans breathed a collective, unconscious sigh of relief. Riley just looked piss because no one was talking to him.
" The Ravagers. A bloodthirsty group of men, whose main aim is apparently mindless chaos and slaughter. They've existed since the early twelfth century, believed to have originated from England. The original members were Celts, but they soon spread throughout Europe. Their numbers have never been more than twelve, though reports are sketchy at best. Doyle also mentioned them in his vision,"
" Twelve. Twelve men?" Buffy choked out incredulously.
" Men might be the wrong term to use, Buffy. Try beast or animal. I doubt they're even human," Dannielle replied. " They're good fighters, and insanity gives them a slight edge. They're unpredictable, actually like getting hurt, so the only way to put them down is to kill them,"
" Kill? That's a little too much isn't it?" The mere notion of killing another person set Buffy's insides quivering. She didn't want to go down that road. Ever.
" Wouldn't maiming or crippling them suffice? Injure them so they can't fight anymore?" Riley put in, frowning at Dannielle. The others were likewise casting disapproving looks at her, for even mentioning murder. Maybe they had found another Faith.
" No can do, bud. Break their arms, they'll use their legs. Break all their limbs, they'll crawl up your back and bite you. Pain isn't a big factor to them, and wounds don't affect them much," Dannielle countered, unfazed.
" So you're saying there's no other choice?"
" Exactly. Try not to think of them as men, or humans for that matter. They don't act like it anymore,"
" I'm not doing it," Buffy insisted, 'resolve face' in place. Dannielle smirked.
" I'm sure they'll appreciate it when they're shoving their swords through your belly. But they won't kill you first. They'll kill your friends, your Watcher, your family, and make you watch. Then they'll kill you,"
Even Riley blanched at the mental image. Dannielle continued relentlessly.
" Take it from me, Buffy. I've got firsthand experience,"
" That still doesn't mean you can take the law into your own hands!" Buffy screamed, closing down on the other girl. Dannielle leaned forward eagerly; she wasn't backing down from this challenge. A strange gleam appeared in her eye, and an observant watcher would have recognized it to be the same one as when she was fighting the vampire.
" Okay then. We'll call the cops and let the Ravagers kill them too. Surround the place with squad cars, and they'll blow up the building and every other building within three blocks. They did it before, they might just do it again,"
" Those who try to run get chopped down from behind, those who try to fight die a slow, painful death. The only thing standing in between them and the town's destruction is the Slayer, but oh, she's already dead,"
Buffy blinked, then backed away. Dannielle pressed forward determinedly wanting Buffy to finish what she started.
" How do I know all this? Well, the Slayer before me wasn't Faith. It was a girl named Sarah. Her little town in Canada got completely destroyed by the Ravagers. She didn't want to kill them either,"
Buffy backed another step, Dannielle advanced one. Her voice was raw and harsh, like she was crying inside.
" There were no survivors,"
" That's enough!"
Surprisingly, the admonition came from Giles, uncharacteristically raising his voice. Dannielle showed Buffy a mouthful of teeth before letting up, crossing her arms over her chest. One eyebrow raised, one hip cocked jauntily to the side.
" Well, Buffy? What do you say now?"
Giles stepped forward and grabbed the new Slayer by the shoulder to turn her around. " Dannielle, we understand what you're saying. But I suggest that we continue this discussion tomorrow. Everyone's feeling a little tired and we should get some rest,"
His tone declared that the conversation was over. Dannielle shrugged. " Sure, whatever,"
" Do you have a place to stay?"
She looked hard at the Watcher, nearly scowling. " I don't need your fucking charity,"
Dannielle slapped Giles' hand from her shoulder and brushed past Buffy. Then she was out the door, and beyond their reach.
++++++
Tristan walked into the underground cave that Faustus currently called 'home'. It was one of many similar caves in a network of tunnels and unused sewers. From here, one could reach any building in Sunnydale, and a few outside. Tristan glanced once more at the rolled up scroll in his hand, then back at Faustus. He suppressed a shiver at the sight of the hideous man.
Faustus looked at first glance a greying corpse, somehow intact and undecayed. He resembled more like a zombie than a man, skin hanging loose on old bones. Still, his appearance was deceiving to the point of disbelief. Faustus was unnaturally strong, stronger even than the average vampire. Coupled to the fact that he was undead and practically invulnerable, Faustus was a force to be reckoned with. And since he also commanded magical forces beyond imagination, Faustus was more of a god.
" Do you have it?" he asked, his voice a gravelly, yet wet, tenor. He sat on a huge stone throne, made out of a huge boulder. He affected a regal pose, chin resting on one fist, elbow on one armrest. Tristan showed him the scroll and flicked it towards the lich with his fingers.
The parchment halted in mid-air and unfurled. Dead eyes roamed over the letters, dead lips curling into a grim parody of a smile. Still suspended in mid-air, the scroll rolled back into a tight cylinder and floated to rest on a stone pedestal that miraculously appeared out of thin air. One had to get used to Faustus' displays of power.
" Good. I assume that the meddling professor is disposed of?"
Tristan nodded, a micro-second delay in the movement. Faustus noticed though, and his smile grew ever wider. " Now, Tristan, I want you to meet a few friends of mine, and hopefully, they'll be yours too,"
It seemed to be a cue, as five figures stepped out from the darkness of an antechamber to Tristan's right. They walked in a vague spearhead, and it didn't take long for Tristan to figure out that they were all vampires. The one in front, male, was obviously the oldest, and the sire.
He was dressed completely in black, unsurprisingly. A muscle tee, leather jacket and denim vest covered his thickly muscled torso and his tight jeans seemed on the verge of splitting every time he moved. He was built like an outhouse and exuded a raw power Tristan hadn't seen in a long time. Three, maybe four centuries, Tristan guessed. His dark auburn hair fell to his shoulders in lank curls, looking slightly wet and greasy. Black eyes bored into Tristan's but he met the gaze evenly.
To his right were two more males, to his left, two females. The male to the immediate right of the sire caught Tristan's attention immediately. He wore a tight T-shirt, black in color, revealing every muscle in his lean frame to a good advantage, and tight blue jeans. On his arms were long silk gloves, reaching up to his elbow. His hair was dyed a bright orange, and gelled up into an array of spikes. He looked at Tristan, his brown eyes showing a mixture of lust and hunger all at one.
The other male dressed in a less attention-grabbing manner, though no more conventional. Black leather pants, black muscle tee under a red leather jacket with black sleeves. He had a mop of blond hair, partially covering his eyes.
The two females were dressed alike, all leather and tight, low-cut tank tops. The one nearer to the sire, wearing a crimson tank top, was blond and blue-eyed, with an open, innocent face and sensual eyes. But insatiable bloodlust glimmered in those eyes, and Tristan lamented those who fell under her trap.
The other looked more overtly dangerous. Her black tank top worked in perfect tandem with her black hair and dark eyes. A sneer seemed to permanently mar her beautiful features, her black painted lips curling in distaste and contempt. She licked her lips once when their eyes met, but that was all he got from her.
" Meet the Angels," Faustus announced, and Tristan bit his lip to keep from smiling. " Lucifer, Azrael, Azhael, Sophiel and Ariel,"
How pretentious, Tristan thought. The angel of death, Azrael- the male to the far right. The angel of lust, Azhael- the other male with the orange hair and bisexual tendencies, judging by the glances he kept casting at Tristan. The females had fairly obscure names, unless Faustus had been referring to the 'Little Mermaid'. And of course, Lucifer, the fallen Angel. How pretentious, he repeated silently.
" They will provide the foot soldiers of our army, the vampire minions that seem to be the main requirement for any master these days," Faustus remarked dryly. " Of course, they would serve little purpose than to distract and divide the Slayers,"
" And to die," Tristan added. Faustus nodded.
" Yes, and to die,"
If the five 'Angels' were insulted by the words, there were smart enough not to give it voice. Tristan watched them for a moment longer, inspecting them, before turning back to Faustus.
" So am I to capture the Slayers by myself, then?"
Faustus stared hard at Tristan, trying to determine the man's thoughts. He couldn't. He allowed a thin smile to flutter on his lips before replying. " Of course not. You will have help, rest assured,"
He waved to another antechamber, this time to Tristan's left. Out came ten men, dressed in spiked leather armor and armed to the teeth with all sorts of sharp implements. Swords, daggers, spiked knuckle-dusters, axes, etc, etc. Tristan inhaled sharply as he took in the facial tattoos and the maniacal grins on their faces.
" Ravagers," he whispered, barely audible.
" Yes, my dear Tristan, the Ravagers. And they are for you to command and to lead," Faustus said benignly, as if he expected Tristan to be pleased. All of a sudden, the five 'Angels' didn't seem too bad to Tristan. Faustus seemed to realize Tristan's reluctance. " You are displeased?"
" Yes," came the answer, quick and unhesitant. Faustus grinned again.
" I admire your candor. You wish me to dismiss them?"
Tristan was silent. The question was not as innocent as it sounded. Finally, he shook his head decisively. " No. They'll be useful,"
" Good. What about the Angels? Would you require their assistance as well?"
Another shake of the head. " Just let them do their thing. Give them free rein, but only when I say so,"
" Very well, Tristan. But remember, I want my Slayers by the next full moon. Two weeks, no more,"
Tristan was smart enough to hear the veiled and unspoken threat in the words. He gave a curt nod and considered bowing. He decided against it and opted for simply walking out.