Chapter 18 A Night Like This

Near Daylight, Crawford Street

I awoke to a slaughterhouse. The cold wet kiss of sleet was biting my face and all I heard was the blood roaring in my ears. Bloody hand prints decorated the pristine white of the library walls and broken bits of furniture and the pages of ripped books blew through the room like drifts of autumn leaves. The place was a shambles and I could smell the rank stench of something burning.

Angel hadn't gotten inside, but he'd brought along enough back-up to make that a moot point--some kind of big armor-plated things that looked like cockroaches in lederhosen. Most of the others were vampires. Not to mention his trusty sidekick, Spike.

There was blood dripping from the ragged bite mark on my throat, but I struggled to my feet and fought the wave of dizziness that threatened to put me down like a daisy. Dawn and Andrew were gone. I was the only breathing thing in the room. The little maid was sprawled on the flagstones outside, her throat bitten away. I've seen werewolf kills that were cleaner. Poor kid. She never had a chance.

Two enormous demons had crashed inside and grabbed Dawn. She fought them tooth and nail, but they were just too damn strong. She threw open a portal and sucked one in, but the other one slugged her and she went out like a light. Andrew screamed like a girl and ran for the front of the house. I didn't see anything around that resembled parts of him, so I figured maybe he'd made a smooth sneak. That kid has more lives than Granny Harris' cat.

Spike had been the only one with an invitation, but he'd done plenty of damage all by himself. He went for me first thing, and slugged me a good one in the kisser. I hit the wall like a ton of bricks and stayed there. I tried getting back up, but before I could move a muscle, he was on me, pressing me to the floor with his maniac strength, holding me down until all I could see were his long white teeth.

Call off your dog, Drucilla! Angelus roared from somewhere outside, Make sure the Slayer gets a surprise with this one.

I heard a trill of feminine laughter and a soft voice answer, Bad dog, Spike. You're to give the Slayer a little gift. I wondered what she meant and then I found out.

I remember the sound of screaming and I'm pretty sure it was coming from me. There was something else though. Spike's voice in my ear, just before he clamped down on the skin of my throat. Just a faint whisper, so low I wasn't sure if I'd imagined it. The factory. Then he opened a vein on his arm and mashed my aching jaw on it. I spat and gagged, but it was no use. I could still taste his blood in my mouth.

My neck was raw but it wasn't a mortal wound, just a messy one. Spike had left me alive. That meant he had a reason, cause as a general rule, when a vamp goes in for the kill, you wake up dead, or worse. It looked like Angel had meant me to be worse--a vampire... My head was spinning again.

I staggered over to the telephone, but something had pulled it out of the wall, the receiver lying in a pile of shattered fragments on the parquet floor. I told my pounding skull to shut up and went toward the front of the house. I could hear some kind of commotion and I still smelled smoke.
All I found was a pile of bodies and the staircase engulfed in flames. There was another fire around the shattered front door. Norman had rallied a few of the survivors and was trying to fight the fire.

I coughed and grabbed him by the sleeve, Didja call the coppers?'

What the hell for? They wouldn't bother to show. We know who did it. He gave me a deadly look. I could tell I was gonna take the heat for bringing Spike inside. We take care of our own, man. Spike was gonna be dust if Norman had anything to do with it.

I grabbed a rug and started beating ineffectually at the fire with it, but the battered vampire growled at me again.
Get the slayer. Make yourself useful. Now.

The Desoto was sitting there in the driveway, albeit a bit more roughed up than usual. I jumped in and floored it for the Stake. I'd let him onto the grounds. If Andrew and Dawn were dead, it was because I'd brought him to her house and led Angelus and his band of killers there. It was all my fault and she was gonna have my head for it, but she deserved to know what happened, even if I didn't.


She must have a special slayer-sense for danger, because she was standing in front of the club when I roared around the corner. I didn't even get the door open before she was at the window.
What is it, Xander.

Dawn. Angelus has her...
I tried to gasp out the rest of the story, but she was already inside the car, slamming the door so hard the hinges rattled. I think her brain must have quit computing after I said her sister's name. She was focused on only one thing.

We're going to find him and kill him, now. Before he.... She didn't need to finish that sentence. Before he killed her sister if he hadn't already.

Where should we start?

I slowed down at the light and she grabbed my arm with more force than she knew, Think, Xander. Did any of them say anything?

Spike said something, I think. He knocked me across the room and took a big chunk out of my neck, but I'd swear he said something about the factory. The interior of the car was silent except for the rasp of sleet on the windshield.

She calculated a moment and her eyes hardened. The factory. There's an old one over on the corner of Gray Street. Spike and I've been hunting there before. I think maybe...

She didn't finish the thought, but I knew where she was going with it. She was hoping he'd given us a deliberate clue--that maybe he was playing along with Angelus for reasons of his own....I wanted to believe it, too.

I was tired and beaten down and there was nothing like going into battle against overwhelming odds when you know you can't win to give you that extra-special feeling. You know the one--Death, despair, what-the-hell-let's go.

You could see the smoke and flames from three blocks away. By the time we got to the mansion, the entire upper story was engulfed and Norman and the few remaining boys were standing around in the cold and wet. It was gonna be nasty today in more ways than one.
It looked like her pack had been whittled down to four still conscious, and they weren't looking any too good. Vamps and fire? Not the best combination....and hey, that gave me a real idea.


Not much help here.

I don't need help. What I do need is weapons. Drive around back to the playhouse. I remember I stashed a couple of things there. She waved Norman and the boys off to find shelter elsewhere for the day.
What about boys at the club?
They've split for the day. I don't have time to hunt them down.

No weapons, no backup. Just me and the Slayer against Angelus and whatever he was planning to throw against us. He knew she'd find him. That was what this had all been leading up to. Maybe that was why Spike had whispered to me. Maybe it was a set-up and I was the patsy.

You got any markers to call in? I asked.

Somebody was bound to owe her a favor, but probably none of them included going up against a terror like Angelus.

Not really. Want out?

I'm coming with you.

You'll just be in the way. Why don't you just go home? Take it easy. I could tell she was trying to do me a favor, but I wasn't having it today.

I can help and I have an idea, a good one. Plus, you need someone to get Dawn out if... I didn't want to finish that thought. I could see her thinking about it and she finally nodded.

Okay, but you've got to follow my orders. Y'got it?

You know me, Buffy. Not much with the thinking, but I'm hell on following orders.

She grinned a bit grimly, Yeah, right.

Okay, but first, we need to see a man about some soup.

tbc
Music: Mark Isham, Pittsburgh 1901 edit, theme from Mrs. Soffel