Chapter Three
The air was thick and muggy. A faint smell of blood drifted through it. Buffy crept through the cemetery, sensing vampires nearby. She had suspected that there were the beginnings of a nest in one of the mausoleums. Those suspicions were starting to be confirmed. She ducked into some undergrowth at the sight of a figure. A tall man with long dark hair was creeping around the entrance of the tomb. Dressed in a black jacket and dark jeans, he appeared to be inspecting the building. His long hand brushed over the brickwork. Then he crouched and ran a few grains of soil through his fingers.
What is this guy doing? Buffy wondered.
She wasn't going to stand around and wait to find out. Striding out of her watch post, she whirled the stake around in her hands.
"I'm sorry, the home isn't available for viewing now, you'll have to come back another time."
Without getting up, he turned his head to face her, then went back to examining the tomb. Buffy blinked in slight disbelief. She'd had vamps be cocky, over confident and down right arrogant, but never ignore her.
"I guess you want the skip the witty banter part," she said and jumped at him.
With reflexes almost as quick as her own, he got to his feet and put up his fists, smiling at her.
"This is amusing." His voice was low.
"Glad you think so. Wait till the awesome humour of me sticking this wooden stick through your heart."
A spinning kick began her offensive. He caught her foot and held her there. His eyes were dark and eerily reflective in the moonlight.
"What is this, little girl?"
Buffy paused for a moment then sent her foot flying forward with all her strength. His grip was strong, but his face collided with her new ankle boots. He reeled from the blow briefly. Small trickles of blood ran from a cut on his cheek. He put a finger to it and then licked the blood off.
"Is this what you want to see me do?" He grinned devilishly at her.
"Not really, considering it's disgusting."
A sweep to the ankles knocked him to the floor. She ducked to his side, holding the stake against his chest. He didn't struggle or even attempt to break the stake. Suspecting a trap, Buffy kept her wits sharply about her.
"There a new vamp gang in town?" she demanded to know.
"I thought you of all people should know that."
She pressed the stake closer to his heart without him even flinching. His face was relaxed. The features were clearer to her now. She knew him.
The guy from the band.
"You're from that band, Maiden's Kiss."
"A little slow are we?" he chuckled. "I expected more of you."
Buffy felt a stinging pain rush through her face. The punch from him sent her spinning, literally. Dazed, she held her cheek and lay on the floor. There was no trace of him.
"I hate when they do that," she grumbled
Piper heard the lock click. Rhett came into the dingy motel room and threw his jacket on his bed. A purple bruise had begun to bloom over his right hand. Hurrying to prevent her seeing, he went to the tiny bathroom to clean the cut the Slayer's heel had caused.
"Where are the other two? They're meant to be here if I should leave," he fumed.
"They're nearby, studying in the next room. That is also important. We don't fully know what we are dealing with yet."
His injuries had caught her eye.
"What happened?" she asked.
"I don't think you have much to worry about," he chirped from the bathroom. "This Slayer doesn't appear to be what we thought."
"You're the one who's worried. Still, I've heard many things about her. She's had quite a career."
With a Band-Aid on his cheek, he returned. Rhett stood like a soldier in front of her. Her presence was q gift to him, though a greatly saddening one. Then dropped and kneeled on one knee. His head bowed, he said,
"We will do everything in our power for you, Lady."
"Yes, I know," Piper whispered.
Raising himself from the ground, he went over to the window. He pulled back the curtain a fraction and peered out onto the deserted road. After examining the area thoroughly but quickly, he left the unfit room and locked the door from the outside. The glow of a light came from the room next door. Everett and Bryn were buried in old and musty volumes strewn all over the floor and beds. After knocking gently, Rhett entered. At a desk sat Bryn, a particularly large book resting in his lap. Everett preferred the floor, sprawled out with several open books around him.
"How goes the search?" he asked, picking up a book of interest and leafing through it's crumbling pages.
"So far, everything we first suspected is confirmed and nothing new has come up," replied Bryn. His voice had a defeatist note in it.
"Which have been read?"
"All in those two stacks," said Everett and pointed to piles of about twelve books each.
"Studied cover to cover? Every word?"
Bryn closed the book, keeping his finger as a page marker. He looked at Rhett with distressed eyes. "Cover to cover, word to word, all of them. I don't know what you expect to find. Those before us found nothing. What makes us the ones to stumble across such discoveries?"
His gaze shifted to the stained-carpeted floor.
"There is more than the fate of one at stake here," he added quietly.
"So you would have the Lady die?" Rhett snapped, growing enraged. "You would have that unworthy killer murder he?"
"Of course it is not my will, or anyone's, that harm come to her. But we know it shall. All we can do is hope we find other solutions. But we should not hold our hearts and what is likely to be a lost cause."
Throwing the weighty book down in anger, Rhett glared at Bryn.
"You keep reading, both of you. You will not stop until another way is found."
The air was thick and muggy. A faint smell of blood drifted through it. Buffy crept through the cemetery, sensing vampires nearby. She had suspected that there were the beginnings of a nest in one of the mausoleums. Those suspicions were starting to be confirmed. She ducked into some undergrowth at the sight of a figure. A tall man with long dark hair was creeping around the entrance of the tomb. Dressed in a black jacket and dark jeans, he appeared to be inspecting the building. His long hand brushed over the brickwork. Then he crouched and ran a few grains of soil through his fingers.
What is this guy doing? Buffy wondered.
She wasn't going to stand around and wait to find out. Striding out of her watch post, she whirled the stake around in her hands.
"I'm sorry, the home isn't available for viewing now, you'll have to come back another time."
Without getting up, he turned his head to face her, then went back to examining the tomb. Buffy blinked in slight disbelief. She'd had vamps be cocky, over confident and down right arrogant, but never ignore her.
"I guess you want the skip the witty banter part," she said and jumped at him.
With reflexes almost as quick as her own, he got to his feet and put up his fists, smiling at her.
"This is amusing." His voice was low.
"Glad you think so. Wait till the awesome humour of me sticking this wooden stick through your heart."
A spinning kick began her offensive. He caught her foot and held her there. His eyes were dark and eerily reflective in the moonlight.
"What is this, little girl?"
Buffy paused for a moment then sent her foot flying forward with all her strength. His grip was strong, but his face collided with her new ankle boots. He reeled from the blow briefly. Small trickles of blood ran from a cut on his cheek. He put a finger to it and then licked the blood off.
"Is this what you want to see me do?" He grinned devilishly at her.
"Not really, considering it's disgusting."
A sweep to the ankles knocked him to the floor. She ducked to his side, holding the stake against his chest. He didn't struggle or even attempt to break the stake. Suspecting a trap, Buffy kept her wits sharply about her.
"There a new vamp gang in town?" she demanded to know.
"I thought you of all people should know that."
She pressed the stake closer to his heart without him even flinching. His face was relaxed. The features were clearer to her now. She knew him.
The guy from the band.
"You're from that band, Maiden's Kiss."
"A little slow are we?" he chuckled. "I expected more of you."
Buffy felt a stinging pain rush through her face. The punch from him sent her spinning, literally. Dazed, she held her cheek and lay on the floor. There was no trace of him.
"I hate when they do that," she grumbled
Piper heard the lock click. Rhett came into the dingy motel room and threw his jacket on his bed. A purple bruise had begun to bloom over his right hand. Hurrying to prevent her seeing, he went to the tiny bathroom to clean the cut the Slayer's heel had caused.
"Where are the other two? They're meant to be here if I should leave," he fumed.
"They're nearby, studying in the next room. That is also important. We don't fully know what we are dealing with yet."
His injuries had caught her eye.
"What happened?" she asked.
"I don't think you have much to worry about," he chirped from the bathroom. "This Slayer doesn't appear to be what we thought."
"You're the one who's worried. Still, I've heard many things about her. She's had quite a career."
With a Band-Aid on his cheek, he returned. Rhett stood like a soldier in front of her. Her presence was q gift to him, though a greatly saddening one. Then dropped and kneeled on one knee. His head bowed, he said,
"We will do everything in our power for you, Lady."
"Yes, I know," Piper whispered.
Raising himself from the ground, he went over to the window. He pulled back the curtain a fraction and peered out onto the deserted road. After examining the area thoroughly but quickly, he left the unfit room and locked the door from the outside. The glow of a light came from the room next door. Everett and Bryn were buried in old and musty volumes strewn all over the floor and beds. After knocking gently, Rhett entered. At a desk sat Bryn, a particularly large book resting in his lap. Everett preferred the floor, sprawled out with several open books around him.
"How goes the search?" he asked, picking up a book of interest and leafing through it's crumbling pages.
"So far, everything we first suspected is confirmed and nothing new has come up," replied Bryn. His voice had a defeatist note in it.
"Which have been read?"
"All in those two stacks," said Everett and pointed to piles of about twelve books each.
"Studied cover to cover? Every word?"
Bryn closed the book, keeping his finger as a page marker. He looked at Rhett with distressed eyes. "Cover to cover, word to word, all of them. I don't know what you expect to find. Those before us found nothing. What makes us the ones to stumble across such discoveries?"
His gaze shifted to the stained-carpeted floor.
"There is more than the fate of one at stake here," he added quietly.
"So you would have the Lady die?" Rhett snapped, growing enraged. "You would have that unworthy killer murder he?"
"Of course it is not my will, or anyone's, that harm come to her. But we know it shall. All we can do is hope we find other solutions. But we should not hold our hearts and what is likely to be a lost cause."
Throwing the weighty book down in anger, Rhett glared at Bryn.
"You keep reading, both of you. You will not stop until another way is found."