"Blast!" Voldemort snatched an axe from the floor and hurled into an ancient sofa. The resounding crash drove Wormtail into a corner, where he cowered until his Master's fury had been spent.
"M-m-master…" Wormtail stuttered.
"Those fools! I told them to kill the witch first. How could they have been so careless?"
At the sound of the shrieking, the Lord of the Hunters abased himself before Voldemort. Behind his golden mask, dark energy crackled like a roaring fire.
"Your eminence, the auror wielded his sword with more skill than we had ever encountered. We had no way of knowing …"
"You let them escape! Do you have any idea how dangerous the witch is?" He backhanded the Hunter across the face. "Do you?"
"Yes, my lord," he answered softly, angry at his followers for their failure. "The failing is ours. Please, allow us the chance to …"
"No," Voldemort interrupted him. "I have other tasks for you, and other matters to attend to. Those who failed have died. For now, that is punishment enough. Need I tell you the consequences of failing again?"
The Hunter shook his head.
"Very well. Leave us."
In the hallway, the Lord of the Hunters brushed by the black-haired sorceress as she made her way to Voldemort's chambers. When she reached the door, she heard her master speaking and stopped to listen to the hissing voice.
The minion left, and Voldemort turned to the fourth occupant of the room, waiting beside Wormtail on his knees. "As for you … using children to do your work. Lucius, I think you have grown soft in my absence."
"My lord, I assure you, my plan was foolproof. It was only…"
"Foolproof, Malfoy? I doubt it, since you were the fool who botched it. Weasley is still in the Ministry; only the fact that Fudge continues to run things with his typical stupidity prevents them from marshaling against us."
Malfoy quivered as the fear rushed through him. His normal arrogance retreated in the face of his imminent demise. All of the wealth and power he had accumulated would mean nothing because those children had somehow stopped him. If not for his fright, he too would have raged at the ridiculous injustice of it.
Voldemort flicked his wrist, drawing his wand from the sleeve of his robe. He watched Malfoy's eyes widen and savored the fear in the idiot's face as it pointed at his chest.
"Cruciatus."
Malfoy screamed, writhing on the floor as the pain transported him to a place of endless suffering. Every patch of skin, every piece of bone, every strand of hair ignited at the moment the spell hit him. For agonizing minutes he knew nothing but the burning.
Voldemort broke the spell. Malfoy lay panting on the ground, tears leaking from his eyes.
"Really, Lucius. Screaming like a muggle. Very undignified. You're lucky I am in a forgiving mood. Wormtail?"
"Yes, master?"
"Remove what's left of Lucius to the couch. He has not quite expended his usefulness."
Wormtail waddled over to the blonde wizard, scooping him up with his silver hand and dragging him to the furniture. The regrown limb afforded him preternatural strength, and after enduring years as a weakling, he made use of it at every opportunity. He negligently thrust the convulsing Malfoy onto the tattered cushions.
Voldemort's skull-like visage turned to his portly henchman.
"Tell me, Wormtail, how would you suggest we handle the most pressing problem on our plate?"
"Y-you mean the Dark Sorceress, my lord?"
"Of course, you simpleton." He never ceased to marvel at Pettigrew's whimpering stupidity. "You wish to assume her place by my side, the place Lucius once occupied, do you not?" Pettigrew nodded vigorously, too naive to hide his ambition. "Then tell me how to deal with her."
Pettigrew had given this a great deal of thought.
"Send her to Hogwarts again, my lord. Give her a strong cadre of Death Eaters and troops, then have them abandon her to our enemies." He looked to his master for approval; the plan had been forming for weeks.
"You are not the brightest of my followers, Wormtail," Voldemort said, sad that only the stupid could have true loyalty. The others were all more ambitious than he thought healthy to promote. "They will defeat our people, and she will be captured, then turned. Albus Dumbledore would be more than a match for them. No, I am thinking of something a bit more grand. We shall all go to Hogwarts, Wormtail, and watch with glee as they destroy each other and I snuff the winner out like a spent candle."
"B-but my lord … D-dumbledore …"
"Don't worry about dear Albus, Wormtail. I have a plan for him as well. Quite the plan indeed."
Out in the hall, fury erupted in Jess' gut. Her power screamed to level the castle and splatter Voldemort across the ruins. She restrained herself; the Dark Lord would not be so easily defeated in his home, and she would be starting a fight she could not hope to win. Though not unexpected, Voldemort's plotting had far-reaching consequences, and she needed to consider them all before acting. Despite her vast strength, she could not defeat him while he had an army at his beck and call. A random, terrible thought occurred to her: the only people with enough power to help her destroy him would most likely kill her on sight.
Damn.
"Buffy, hey, what's up?" Willow said into the phone.
"Will, I need a favor." The desperate edge in her friend's voice put Willow instantly on guard.
"Sure, Buff. Anything. You know that."
"I need you to come get me and bring me to Spike."
"Umm … why?"
"I'll give you the full four-one-one later," Buffy said dismissively. "Please, Will, it's urgent."
"Right now?"
"Right now."
The door to Spike's dungeon slammed open and Buffy charged into his seemingly empty home. Anger steamed from her heated flesh.
"Dammit, Spike, where are you?" Her shout ricocheted off the bare stone.
The vampire stepped from the shadows, unsurprised by her appearance. He wore his villain outfit – black jeans and black t-shirt under a red silk button-down, all of it covered by the duster.
"Hello, Slayer," he said in a neutral voice. "Took Peaches longer than I thought to call you."
She strode across the room and decked him with her right fist.
"What the hell is wrong with you? How dare you tell him about … about those things?"
"Can't even say it, can you?" On the floor, he wiped the blood from his mouth with his left hand. "That I told him about us?"
"There was no 'us', you sick bastard." She kicked him in the side of the head, the toe of her leather boot ploughing a furrow in his temple. "Not in the way you mean!" She brought her other leg crashing down, but he caught it and flung her back across the room.
"Oh, right, Slayer, I forgot. Just you usin' the vampire as your personal vibrator. No feeling at all there. Hey, didn' even need batteries, did I? Just five minutes off, and bang, ready to go, right? Very economical, luv, 'specially on your limited budget."
He eased himself to his feet, a torrent of fury and disbelief raging through him. How dare she do this to him? Write him off like he was nothing when they both knew how she felt? The no soul-no love bargain he had accepted as fact, but he wouldn't let her lie about what was going on. Not to him, not to the Poof, and not to herself.
"You … you …" She hurled her fists at him again, forsaking any style for raw power. One, two, then three punches rocked him back, until he drove two of his own into her stomach and shoved her away.
"I. Had. No. Choice."
"THE HELL YOU DIDN'T!" She swung again, but he dodged and backed away.
"Did he tell you the story? How we had to get the bloody Eye?"
"Your bullshit excuses – not my concern. Actually, not really a concern for you anymore, either." Mr. Pointy came out from under her jacket. She had no idea what he was talking about, and didn't care.
The stake caught Spike speechless. Whatever Angel had said must have been vicious … She's in pain, he realized suddenly. The bastard …
"Here's the thing, too. You can hit me. You aren't helpless. So staking you? Not a decision on the level of cutting a baby in half."
He slipped the duster off and tossed it over the chair.
"Go on then," he said, his arms spread wide in front of him. "Finish me off. Just another soulless demon, pet. Make it happen. Give the duster to the nibblet, eh? She wanted to try it on." He waited, his arms still open, hoping she might come to her senses before he ended up in a Hoover bag. "C'mon, what are you bleedin' waitin' for?"
Buffy slammed the stake home brutally. He had time for a single shocked gasp before the pain overwhelmed him.