Chapter eleven.
Buffy.
We approach the decrepit old warehouse at the edge of the Pacific Ocean. The sand and parking lot around the area is torn up, and judging from the quake that just passed through here, I'm sure the inside of the building is jacked up as well.
The rain pounds the pavement, and drenches us all in red goop.
"Uh, Buffy, is this what I think it is?" Xander asks, and I give him a look. "Ours is not to question why, ours is but to do and die," he sighs out, and shakes his head. "Sorry. Been watching the history channel too much."
"Wills, you got everything ready?" I whisper, and she nods. "Sage, eye of toad, witch hazel, efluvia of newt, and pine sol."
"Pine sol?" Giles asks, his voice as quiet as possible.
"To cover the stinkies this spell creates," Willow says. "It's really rank."
Giles blinks a few times, then duck walks over to me, as we crouch behind a large dune, obviously created by the earthquake.
"You have everything, Buffy? Xander and myself will be right there the moment you need back up."
"I know, Giles, and I appreciate it. But I need to do this on my own. If they've raised old prune face again, I need to take him out. Me. By my lonesome. You understand? Considering I smashed the guy to smithereens the last time, you'd think he'd stay buried," I tell him, and he frowns, but he gets it. He's Giles. He's been my watcher for almost a year and a half now. So he knows me, and he knows when I make my mind up, I'm not gonna change it. So he and Xander stand behind me at the door of the old warehouse, weapons at the ready, should I need them.
God bless Willow and her net skills. Finding this place hadn't been hard; what had been hard was figuring out what spell to use to dispell the body of the master once and for all.
Thanks to Giles' coven friends in England, we are armed to the teeth with weapons and knowledge and ready to get rid of him once and for all.
I really really hope that Angel's still okay.
I can't think about him right now. I have to go in, destroy the bad guys, and save the damsel in distress. Or, the dam…knight…vampire…whatever, in distress.
"Okay, Will, be ready for the signal," I tell her, and she nods, already deep into chanting and waving her incense around. I know she's a little new at this witchy stuff, but I have faith in her. She can do it. Besides, she seems to have a natural affinity for it. Even Giles says so.
I tense, the gory rain running down my face and into my hands, making the wooden handle of my specially made broadsword slick. I twist it in my hands, changing my grip, and bite my lip.
"Here we go," I mutter, and give Giles and Xander the thumbs up.
I squeak open the door, and pop my head in.
Bigggggg empty hallway. But my stomach does that tingly flip flop thing, and I know Angel's nearby.
I let the door shut behind me, and I hear Willow's voice raise slightly as the last of the night air blows in with it.
I ready the sword, and hold it in front of me. I tiptoe down the hall, checking every few seconds behind me, but my spider sense doesn't go off, so I figure the vamps are in the cavernous room that I assume is beyond the door directly in front of me.
Why do they always pick an empty old nasty warehouse? Go on, live the cliché, guys.
The floor gives a little jerk, and I try not to fall to one side as I readjust my balance. "Stupid aftershocks," I tell myself, and wipe a hand across my eyes, trying to move the bloody gook away from them. If this finishes the way I hope it will, I'm taking the world's longest shower. Water bill be damned.
The door to the large room has canted sideways, and I can see in, without being seen, hopefully.
I really don't want to see in, though.
Angel's shirtless, his neck being held in the grips of a really old, really ugly vampire clad in black leather and big clunky boots that are so last season. Damn. I was really hoping it wasn't him.
Two identical piles of dust lay at their feet, and I silently thank the Master's short temper for making quick work of the two stupid vampires that must have raised him.
"So, you just can't stay dead, can you? I told you before, when I send you to hell, you should stay there."
They both turn, Angel not being able to move too easily, and I gasp inwardly at the sight of the huge cut on his wrist and the blood running down his face. He smiles through his red mask, and I light up inside. I knew there was another reason to be glad I'm the Slayer.
"SLAYER!" The Master roars, and grins a creepy smile of his own. "You know you can't keep a bad guy down."
He squeezes Angel's neck tighter, and throws him hard against the brick wall. As he hits it, I hear his head crack against the mortar, and I begin to run to him.
The Master steps in between us.
"Oh, how sweet. And yet how sad. A vampire, a former powerful, masterful vampire, in love with a Slayer. How inappropriate. It's too bad I'll have to take you out this time, girl. I guess I'll have to do something better than just drowning you," he hisses at me, drawing his hands up into claws, and waving them at me.
I can't help it; I shudder at the memory of that night, and my headfirst plunge into the cold dank water that he had thrown me into after drinking from me. Slayer's blood is powerful stuff, and I can't let him anywhere near me, especially because Angel seems to be out of commission for the moment.
"I am so not wasting a quip on you," I tell him, and then launch myself at him.
He bats my sword aside as I whirl it toward his head in a classic fencing move Giles had tought me only the week before. He hits at me with his hand, and I feel a ripping sensation in my shoulder as the claws go through me. I drop into a crouch, and sweep my leg out in an attempt to knock him over, and he leaps over it like it's a jump rope. Hmmm. Not good.
"Willow!! Hurry it up!" I yell, and I hear vaguely, "Hurrying!"
I sommersault, and leap up as high as possible, trying to hit him in the back. My sword slices home, snicking into his back. He screams, and tries to reach the wound with his hands. I pull the sword out, and run for the wall.
Pushing myself off, I leap over him, and land in front of him just as I hear Angel begin to get to his feet.
The Master cackles, and head-butts me, his face a blur as it comes toward mine. A resounding crack echoes through the room, and at first I think it's our foreheads meeting. Then I realize the smell of incense and a rank stink is invading the room.
"Damn, good thing she brought the Pine Sol," I say, and raise my sword as the Master is momentarily distracted.
"What? No! Not again! I won't be sent back!" he yells.
"Oh, I very much beg to differ," I say scathingly, and flip the sword over, exposing the pointy end. The wooden pointy end.
I leap toward him, and he raises his arms upward, as if to catch me as I fall into him. As I am almost upon him, he ducks underneath me, and I sail over him, flailing my arms behind me to try and hit him. No dice.
He's behind me; his hands around my throat. Boy, I so did not want to be in this position again.
I start to hyperventilate, and memories wash over me. His presence is like a wolf; powerful, scary, and kindy smelly. But I can't draw away. The sword drops out of my hands, and clatters to the floor.
"Now, lets finish what we started last year," he says in my ear, and his cold breath makes me shiver. He crushes his hand around my neck, and I try to croak out for Angel, for Giles, for anyone.
His fangs decend toward my jugular, and I squinch my eyes shut, paralized with fear, unable to to anything except whimper.
An audible pop echoes through the room, and the Master squeals in rage.
"No! You can't do this to me! I won't let it happen again!"
My vision wavers for a moment, and the light issuing from the large crack in the floor glows white hot, and I am able to throw up my arms to shield my face from the heat.
"Don't. Touch. Her. Again," comes the growly voice, and the hands around my neck are gone. I am instantly in action, dropping to my knees and grabbing my abandoned sword. I pivot around quickly, and leap to my feet as I see Xander and Giles run into the room, weapons at the ready.
"Buffy! Are you alright!" Giles shouts, and I smile at him.
"Never better, boss."
"Willow's almost done, Buffy, you ready?" Xander yells across the room, and I nod.
"Okay, Will, hit it!" he bellows, and a few seconds later, the temperature in the dank room raises to about a billion, and the candles on the wall flicker back and forth, smoke issuing from the fissure at my feet.
The horrendous smell hits me, and I gag as I try to make my way to where Angel and wrinkly boy are grappling. I slide on the stone floor, and fall to one knee as I reach them.
Angel is repeatedly punching him, and the Master is stabbing Angel's chest and arms with his long talons.
I jump between them, and repeat, "Don't. touch. Him. Again." And thrust my sword through the Master's belly. He gasps, and falls to his own knees, clutching his stomach as he tries to hold in his intestines, which threaten to spill out. Gross-a-rama.
I check Angel, who seems to be fine, if a bit bloody and groggy, and turn back to the Master. I put my boot on his shoulder, and push him over onto his back.
He's mewling in pain now, and I stand over him, breathing hard and dripping blood on him from my hair. I place the wooden tip of my sword over his heart.
"Look, juice face, next time someone offers to raise you from the dead, do yourself a favor and stay gone. Especially in my town…"
I lower myself to my haunches, and meet his eyes, holding him in place with my left hand as my right holds my stake/sword.
A screaming wind fills the room, and I make sure he's watching as I slowly insert the stake into his heart. The words of Willow's spell reach my ears, and as he dusts, the particles begin to swirl upward, forming a whirlwind that resembles a funnel cloud.
A burst of lightning cracks through the ceiling, and one of those vortexes Xander and I had seen, and like the one Angel and I had seen in our dream, forms above our heads. The dust cloud that was the Master swirls toward it, and I swear I hear screaming as it disappears into the black hole.
The churning mass snaps shut, and all is silence.
"That had betterbe the last time I see him," I say, and burst into tears.
Angel stumbles to me as Willow comes running into the room, crying, "Did it work? Did we do it?"
"Yeah, Wills, we did," I tell her as she comes to a stop in front of me. Wetness tracks down her face as we embrace.
Angel stands behind us, his hand on my shoulder, trembling from the sheer effort of standing up. Some kind of mojo had been done on him, too.
Willow lets me go, and goes to Xander and Giles, who are sitting on the floor of the warehouse, exhausted, although mostly from the stress of the event.
I turn to Angel, and touch his wrist gently, where the large gash is already healing. "You okay?" I ask him, voice shaking with emotion.
"I am now," he says, and smiles that half smile at me. He takes my hand away from his wound and places it on his torn and blood covered cheek.
"I am now."
TBC.
