Chapter Thirteen

Giles placed the picture of Buffy on the floor and took a step back.

"Giles, are you sure about this?" Willow asked from her seat on the floor. She was sitting cross-legged in the middle of a circle they had drawn with sand on the floorboards of Giles' study.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure. The coven wants you focusing your powers on positive energy. They want you to try this on your own, so that they can get a sense of how far you've come. They're monitoring you. They'll be able to feel you, so if you do get into any trouble, they will be able to pull you out. No worries." Giles cleaned his glasses nervously with his handkerchief and tried to nod at Willow reassuringly.

"No worries, huh? Could I possibly get something in writing?" she asked, hopefully.

"You'll be fine." He rested his glasses back on his nose. "This is just a simple protection spell. It's just positive energy. There shouldn't be any interference and nothing should go wrong."

"Famous last words," the redheaded witch mumbled under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." Willow looked up and smiled at him. "I just think this is a peachy keen idea and I am so glad you thought of it."

"Well, there's no need to be sarcastic. Now, the spell?"

"Okay, okay." Willow exhaled a deep cleansing breath. She picked up the picture of Buffy and moved it closer so that she could rest both her hands on it. Then, she closed her eyes and began to concentrate.

The last couple of months had been the worst of Willow's life. She was trying so desperately hard to make things right, but it was difficult. There was a part of her that feared she would never be able to atone for the wrongs she had done. But she had to try. Even if she would never be worthy of anyone's forgiveness.

Helping Buffy was a start. Even if Buffy didn't know about it. Giles thought a protection spell might be a harmless way of concentrating some of her power in a positive way. It was summer, after all. The Hellmouth was never all that frisky between May and September, so it seemed like a perfect time to experiment just a little. Of course, experimenting never ended well in Sunnydale, but Bath was nearly half a world away - at least, it felt that way sometimes. Hopefully, guided by the coven, the results would be much better here.

Slowly, the words began to pour from her mouth. Willow hadn't done any research for this spell, hadn't looked in any books. She didn't have to. She was driven by instinct and the energy of her sister witches. She was connected, to them and to the earth, and to great power in a way that was almost beyond even her understanding. She could feel so much, when she tried. Sometimes it was overwhelming - she was trying hard to control that part - but it was also empowering.

The energy flowed from her body with ease, gracefully wrapping itself around the figure pressed under her fingers. Something was happening. She could feel it. The picture started to levitate, and Willow guided it into the air with her hands. A beautiful, golden light swirled behind her eyes, as she continued to chant, her thoughts caught up in a mindless rapture.

She was making a connection. She could feel power. Pure, concentrated power, radiating from the photo, colliding with the ribbon of light she was sending its way. She thought, at first, that it was Buffy's power - her Slayer strength, the mystical energy that had called her to be the chosen one. But it wasn't. It was something dark.

Willow forced her eyes open and stared at the picture floating before her. There was an ominous black cloud hovering around Buffy. It was overshadowing her, overpowering her. A shot of pure fear coursed through Willow's veins as she stared at the previously unmarred photo. That moment of weakness was all it took.

The cloud grew more dense and in a great whoosh of energy, repelled the beautiful, golden trail that Willow had been trying to send. The beam of light sped across the room and dissipated in a momentary flash as it hit the wall behind her.

Before she could even react, the photo plummeted to the floor, taking Willow's hands with it. She couldn't release her hands, it was as if someone were there, holding her to the ground. Suddenly, the picture turned completely black and a dark bolt of energy shot up both her arms and under her skin. The second before her eyes turned black she screamed, "Giles!"

Giles ran toward Willow and threw himself on the ground in front of her. In one swift move, he tore the photograph from under her hands and fell back on his heels.

Willow hit the floor behind her.

"Oh my God, Willow!" Giles scrambled closer to her and put his hands on both sides of her head, trying to see if she was conscious.

"Giles?" she asked, tentatively. She opened her eyes, their color having returned to normal.

"Yes Willow, I'm here."

"What happened?" She tried to sit up, but Giles protested.

"Lie down. Let me get you something for your head."

"No Giles, I'm fine. Really," she said, pushing herself up to a sitting position and rubbing the sore spot on her head. "Remind me, next time we do that, to get some pillows. Lots and lots of pillows."

"What happened? What did you see?" Giles asked, a troubled urgency to his voice.

"See? I . . . I don't know. It was all so strange. Giles, I don't think the spell worked."

"Of course it didn't work," he snapped.

Willow gave him a hurt look.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound cross. But that was damned dangerous. It wasn't supposed to be dangerous."

"And I don't think it would have been," she said moving a few inches toward the couch and pulling herself up to sit, "if there hadn't already been a spell on Buffy."

"What? What are you talking about?" Giles rose and sat beside her.

"There's already a spell on Buffy. Sort of a black cloud floating around her. It's connected to some big power. Something I'm not sure I can explain."

"Well try."

Willow clasped her hands between her knees and took a much-needed breath. "Well, there's an imbalance somewhere. Something in the demon world is terribly out of whack. There's been a transfer of energy, or something. Something big. Something that takes a lot of magic. And I can't really tell if it's good or if it's bad, but the demon attached to it, isn't really the kind of guy you'd like to have over for tea and crumpets, if you know what I mean."

"You saw this demon?" Giles asked.

Willow nodded. "Yes, I think so. There wasn't much to see. Just this huge black face with these green, glowing eyes. Whatever it is Giles, it's big, and it's powerful, and it's done something to Buffy."

"Oh good Lord." Giles got up from the couch, and started to pace nervously. "We must contact Buffy. She needs to know about this. If it isn't too late already. Willow," he stopped to look at her, "is there anything else you can tell me about this demon? Anything at all?"

"It . . . lives in a cave?" she provided, uncertainly.

"In a cave? You're sure?"

"Well, as sure as I am of anything. Yeah, it was a cave. Kind of cold and dark and scary. Yeah, that was it."

"Right. I'll call Buffy." He moved to pick up the phone, then stopped, his hand still resting on the receiver. "Are you sure you're all right?

"Yeah, I'm fine. Nothing more than a slight concussion."

"Maybe we should get you to hospital."

"No! Giles. Really, I'm fine." She stood and walked toward the door. "I'm going to the library. See if I can find anything on this glowy, green-eyed demon. Hey," she turned back, "do you think, maybe it's a jealousy monster? You know, green-eyed demon?"

"Why don't you look into that," Giles said, picking up the phone and pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Green-eyed demon, indeed," he mumbled to himself.

"As if you have any better ideas," Willow grumbled as she finally left the room.

Giles dialed Buffy's number. He just prayed that they weren't too late. Whatever was hanging over Buffy could have been haunting her for God only knew how long. On the fourth ring, someone picked up.

"Hello. Buffy's House of Vampire Slayage. You make 'em, we stake 'em," Xander said on the other end.

"Oh, yes, very funny. And also very childish and very dangerous. You had no idea who was on the other end of this phone, how could you . . .?"

"Buffy, it's for you," Xander called, his voice becoming distant.

"Who is it?" Giles could hear Buffy's voice in the background.

"I don't know. Some stuffy English guy. I think he wants to know if we've got Prince Albert in the can, or something."

Buffy took the phone. "Hey Giles."

"Oh Buffy, thank God. Will you please do me a favor and give Xander a right good scolding later on. I'd do it myself, but I doubt he'd listen."

"Lighten up, Giles. Xander's just having a little fun."

"Buffy, anyone could have been on this line, you should all know better than to say things like that to just anyone."

"Sorry. Once I'm off the phone, I will give him a good and proper scolding. I promise."

"Good."

"It's just that, it's been kind of slow around here, lately. We kind of have to make our own fun these days."

"What do you mean by 'it's been slow?'" he asked.

"Well, other than Spike coming back to town, there hasn't been much news in Sunnydale all summer."

"Spike's back?" Giles spluttered into the phone.

"Yeah. I don't know exactly how long he's been back. At least a few days I guess."

"And I take it you've seen him?" Giles' alarm was returning.

"Twice now." Buffy was finally sobering up. "Once in the cemetery - he saved me from a vamp - and once at his crypt."

"And what, exactly, were you doing at his crypt?"

"Patrolling!" she said defensively. "Why does everyone think I had ulterior motives for going there? I didn't know he was going to be there."

Giles sighed in frustration. "Buffy, tell me, has anything unusual happened lately? Anything at all, other than Spike resurfacing?"

"No. Same old, same old on the Hellmouth."

"And Spike? Is he different in any way?" Giles asked, exploring a suspicion.

There was silence on the other end of the line. Finally, Buffy said, "I think . . . he may have his soul."

"What?" Giles nearly screamed into the phone. "Buffy, what on earth would make you think . . .?"

"I saw it. At least, I think I saw it. Giles, there's something different about him. He's changed. He's not the man he was."

"Buffy, he is not a man."

"You know what I mean."

"Buffy--" he began.

"Look, Spike came back. He isn't stalking me, he isn't trying to be my friend. He came back and asked me to kill him."

Giles took a breath and tried to speak, but she cut him off.

"He meant it Giles. He wants to die. I'm not entirely sure why, but I have a fairly good idea. If my suspicions are right, it all makes sense."

"Buffy, this could all be a ploy."

"It's not. Look, Giles . . . it's . . . complicated."

"Complicated? Is that what you're calling it? Buffy, I called you today for a reason. There's something terribly wrong here. Someone has cast a spell on you. There's a black cloud hanging over your head. Something is clouding your mind and clouding your judgement, and you have to be extremely careful."

"I am," she said in a small voice.

"No, you're not. You are being reckless, and selfish, and foolish. If Spike does have a soul, it is the work of dark magic, nothing to rejoice in. Buffy, don't you see? He may have cast a spell on you. You have to be careful. Avoid Spike at all costs."

"Okay, I will."

"Buffy," he warned sternly.

"Giles, it's not like I'm going out looking for him. I haven't seen him in days. I've been staying home, doing research, that's all."

"Still, I want you to promise me that you won't see him. Getting you to kill him may be part of fulfilling the spell."

"Oh please, getting dusted is the pinnacle of his evil plan?" she mocked.

"Promise me Buffy."

"Giles, I can't."

"Buffy."

"Look, it's not that easy. I know you're only concerned for my welfare, but Giles, it's more complicated than that. You see, I've been having dreams about him."

"Dreams? What kind of dreams? Slayer dreams?"

"No," he heard her sigh heavily, "not Slayer dreams. There's no little bald man offering me cheese. No these are different. They take place in real events, in real circumstances from the past. In my first dream I saw William. Not Spike, but William. It was him. It was the strangest thing. It was like I was really there. I knew it was impossible, but Giles, it felt so real."

"What other dreams have you had?" Giles sat down on the edge of his desk and prepared for the worst.

"I saw him in China when he killed his fist Slayer. Then in New York. There were other times, in between. And times, much closer to the present. I've relived moments from my past with him. I don't know why it happened. All I know is, it started about four weeks ago, tortured me for a good two weeks, and then stopped. That's all I know."

"Buffy, did anything significant happen in these dreams? I need you to tell me. It may be important."

"I seduced Spike," she said flatly. "In every single one of them, except for the last."

"And in the last dream?"

She seemed to hesitate. "I beat him to a bloody pulp and tried to tell him that I could never love him. But I couldn't. I couldn't say it. That was the most terrifying dream of all. Giles," there was a sob in her voice, "why is this happening to me? I know it's wrong. Why can't I get over him?"

"Buffy, it's all right," he tried to comfort her. "It's some sort of spell. There's a demon involved. A green-eyed cave demon of some sort. Willow is doing research as we speak. We're going to find out what it is, and do whatever it is we need to do to remove it. Do you understand?"

"What if it isn't the spell?"

Giles tightened his grip on the phone in his hand. "It's the spell Buffy. Trust me. It'll all be over soon."