Severed Ties

Chapter 11

Protect and Serve

Sunnydale

May 18th, 2002

10:58 p.m.

It didn't take long for Xander to locate the disturbance. After loading himself up with weapons he allowed his instincts to take over and they had led him to Shady Groves cemetery. Nestled between Heberly and the factory district, Shady Groves wasn't the largest cemetery though it did house several crypts that vampires had often used as nests. This threat, however, had nothing to do with vampires and when he reached the middle of the cemetery grounds, ducking a slab of concrete hurled at his head, Xander wished it were as simple as a few vamps.

He spun around to face his attacker and took an involuntary step backwards at the sight of the beast. It was at least seven and a half feet tall with muscles bulging from its shirtless torso. It's skin was the darkest of purples and was covered with an assortment of protrusions. It wasn't until he peered closer that Xander discerned what those protrusions were and he shivered at the knowledge.

Its flesh was a canvas of blue and crimson veins that throbbed with a maniacal intensity as the wind caressed them. The moon reflected off the numerous piercings that the creature possessed. Aside from the veins, it chest was littered with chain-like links and its arms were skewered from wrists to elbows by metal spikes. Another curved spike was embedded through its nose, a disturbing compliment to the grayish tusks that protruded from the sides of its mouth.

"Wow," Xander said as he circled the beast. "That must have hurt."

"You have no idea," the demon replied, its voice like a guttural snarl. "Every step I take, I feel it. Every time the wind blows across my skin, I feel it. Every time I am touched, I feel it. My life is one of pain and it is something that I will never be rid of it." It stopped circling and pinned Xander with half crazed eyes.

"And you know what?" It asked, a horrible smile surfacing through the tusks and piercings of its face. "I love every minute of it."

"Well, then," Xander replied after several seconds, "why don't I put you out of your misery." He withdrew his silver sword from the scabbard on his back and relaxed his body before getting into his battle ready samurai stance.

"But I like the misery," it replied and, faster than the brunette could have guessed, it attacked.

*&*

May 18th, 2002

11:17 p.m.

"I'm gonna need a massage after tonight, thanks to you," C.J. said to the pile of dust sprinkling to the ground. Re-sheathing the blade in the scabbard attached to his forearm, C.J. rotated his neck clockwise several times, grunting as the bones popped.

This last fight had been a close one. It wasn't as if being a hairsbreadth from death was new to him. It was one of the many hazards he took in fighting evil on a nightly basis. But after easily repelling a coordinated attack by three vampires, taking one down should have been easy but the twin punctures just above his collarbone and the bruised ribs were a testament to the perils of 'should have'.

"Another ruined shirt, thank you very much," he said dryly after examining where he had landed on a tombstone. The stone had cut through the shirt and his skin and, in all honesty, C.J. had no clue as to why his ribs weren't broken. Of course, he was always taught to never frown upon the 'whys' of good fortune but take it as it is--good fortune.

And this was definitely good fortune, he thought as he walked through the cemetery. A delicious wave of pain crept up his entire right side at every step. Not only were his ribs bruised but his knee had slammed into the marker as well. Not to mention the little river of blood spilling into my eye. Taking the sleeve of his shirt, C.J. dabbed again at the cut over his left eye, trying to staunch the blood flow without much success. He shook his head, disgusted that he had been so careless in the last fight. The last vampire had disarmed him on two separate occasions and it wasn't the first time that C.J. had questioned his resolve not to carry a stake. On the rare occasions that he had, the dusty conclusions were always a lot faster albeit not as satisfying as decapitation.

It really must be a guy thing, he thought wryly and smiled in relief when the cut above his eye ceased bleeding. Although the cut would be more or less healed in the next day or two, along with his ribs, C.J. knew that they required dressing as soon as he got home. And that meant that he'd be better off all-around calling it a night. He hadn't reached his quota of six kills but there was always tomorrow.

"Don't be an idiot, Ced," he muttered to himself, "you need to take at least one night off." Since coming to Sunnydale six months ago, C.J. had rarely taken a break from hunting, always too concerned about a repeat of Ohio; especially after meeting Dawn. Ever since the literal run-in with her at the beach several weeks ago, C.J. couldn't get the teenage brunette out of his mind. He had asked for her number that first day and she had told him, though she had given him strict instructions to call only between the hours of one and three unless otherwise noted. He had laughed at that but one look in those beautiful obsidian eyes of hers and he had acquiesced. In truth, she could have asked him to streak across the beach and he would have happily obliged. He really didn't understand what it was about her that drew him in so deep but he was powerless to fight it and wasn't about to try. Even if she was only fifteen, C.J. had no doubts that he wanted to be with her and protecting her, even if she did have Faith as her damn bodyguard, was number one on his list of priorities. The only way he knew how to do that was eliminating as many demons as possible every night.

And that was how the all-nighters of the past couple of weeks had begun.

Hunts that generally lasted three to five hours routinely extended beyond seven and sleep consisted of two-hour naps before going to work or sometime during the day. He stalked as many cemeteries and back alleys as he could in that given time, staying out of the way of the others that fought the good fight as well. Oh, he knew he wasn't alone in the fight. On several occasions in the past few months he had come across two blondes, one male and one female, who policed the graveyards. The first time he had seen them fight he knew that they had been gifted just as he had. C.J. had come close to introducing himself more than once but something had always kept him away. Eventually, he had given up, resigning fate to have them cross his path. If and when that occurred he would deal but until then, he would do his thing while they did theirs.

Taking a shortcut through Shady Groves, C.J.'s thoughts were filled with Dawn and, as he neared the exit to the street, the distinct sounds of combat garnered his attention.

"It's probably the blonde duo again," he said to himself but was inextricably drawn to the clamor in the distance. After a minute of skulking between headstones and behind shrubbery, he spotted the two combatants. Hiding behind a bush, C.J. watched the two fighters attack one another relentlessly. The large demon, a thing of the likes he had never seen, was obviously besting the smaller man. The gait of the man was that of a punch-drunk fighter. He could barely keep his feet and the large gash across his forehead and the limp arm hanging at his side was evidence enough for C.J. to know that the fight was drawing to an inevitable end.

"Looks like I get to play hero again," he whispered and slowly withdrew his blade. Keeping low to the ground and behind tombstones when he could, C.J. crept up on the two fighters. He winced when the smaller man was thrown through a headstone and was amazed when he immediately got to his feet. For a moment it appeared that the collision had invigorated the man and C.J. watched in awe as the man put together a string of kick and punch combos that would have felled any other demon C.J. had seen in Sunnydale. But there was no doubt that this was no ordinary demon. After a particularly vicious spinning back kick that dropped it to one knee, the creature wiped its mouth and laughed--laughed! --Before slowly rising to its feet. Though the determination never left the other man's eyes, it was clear to C.J. that the man was out of ideas.

"Guess I should've brought my shotgun, huh?" C.J. heard him say.

"It would not have helped you, little man," the demon grunted and dug a hard right into the man's body. He gasped before falling to his knees, his good arm keeping him from falling face-first into the ground. The demon circled the man arrogantly as if waiting for the perfect opening to end it. C.J. knew he had to act but something held him back.

"Not even your puny slayer would have been able to help you," the demon said and chuckled grotesquely. The comment had an immediate impact on the man and C.J. almost gasped when he saw the man's eyes burn crimson.

"Don't you go near her. Don't you go near, Buffy," he growled. Buffy? C.J. thought. Buffy? That's Dawn's sister. Wha--what the hell is going on?

C.J. was torn from the questions bombarding his mind when he heard the downed man scream. The demon's foot ground into the other man's hand and C.J. cringed. What the hell am I doing standing here? I need to get the hell over there. He started to move but stopped when he heard the demon's gravelly voice speak again.

"Don't worry," it said, "your little slayers are free from my wrath. Gabriel wants them all to himself. But you, on the other hand, are mine." It grabbed the man roughly by the back of his neck and pulled him towards its mouth. "Now it's time for you to feel my pain." C.J. stared at the scene as the demon knelt in front of this man--was he just a man? --And, for whatever reason, C.J. knew exactly what was going to happen.

"He'll never survive," C.J. whispered just as the demon opened its maw incredibly wide. Without a second thought, C.J. sprung from behind a headstone and dashed over to the downed man. He knew he wasn't going to get there in time, so he yelled out the first thing that came to mind.

" Algolagniar, no!" At the sound of its name, the demon whirled around, its chest heaving in anticipation of the kill. His blade balanced in one hand, C.J. stopped just out of reach of the creature. The adrenaline flowing through his veins escalated as his eyes roamed over the hideous flesh of the creature before him.

As much as he was horrified by the demon's appearance, C.J. was dumbstruck by the void that greeted him when he glanced into its eyes. They weren't black as night or obsidian in shade. They were nothing. It was like looking into an empty void of space where only evil could survive. But that wasn't the only thing. C.J. could feel his body being pulled by some destructive energy towards the demon. He resisted, of course, but it was at the price of a growing discomfort that spread throughout his frame.

What the fuck is going on? Feels like I'm on fire. He wanted to slash at the creature but the pain he felt coupled with its proximity to the downed man would only hinder C.J. and more than likely get them both killed. No, he needed to maneuver it away from the injured man. But how?

His question was answered when, quite abruptly, the demon dropped the man to the ground and stood. C.J. stared up at the hulking mass in apprehension. Even on a good day I'd have trouble with this thing, he thought, but with me sporting bruises and probably cracked ribs…I'm fucked.

He bounced on the balls of his feet as the creature approached, willing, if only for a few moments, the pain and fear away. His concentration was broken, however when, instead of attacking, the demon regarded him with a curious expression. It stroked its chin as if in thought, cocking its head from side to side as it took stock of the man in front of it. Out of nowhere, the demon staggered back and C.J. braced himself as its hands dropped to its sides, clenching and unclenching into fists and its breath coming in jagged gasps.

"It…it cannot be," it growled in disbelief. "Y-you are dead. Gabriel…he told us. You're dead."

"Well, obviously you guys don't know me very well," C.J. replied with a confidence he didn't feel. "Didn't you get the memo? I can't die." Knowing he wouldn't get another opportunity, C.J. launched himself at the demon, his heel slamming into its neck.

The demon collapsed in a heap as it held its hand to its neck. C.J. followed up the attack with a hook to the temple. His right hand came around to slash at the demon but it blocked the strike with its hand. As soon as their flesh made contact, C.J. screamed and staggered away from the downed behemoth. For a brief moment his arm felt as if it had been dipped in acid and he wanted nothing more than to cut it from his body. As soon as it began, however, the rabid agony lowered to a throbbing pain. But it was still too much and he knew he had to get out of her before the demon got back to its…

"Too late," he said as the moonlight disappeared behind the monstrous beast.

"You injured me," the demon said, its face expressionless. "And for that, you will pay."

C.J. had no doubt that he was in way over his head but there was no quit in the young man. Garnering all the courage he had, C.J. winked at the creature before his smirk fell into place. He positioned himself between the demon and the dazed man still on the ground. Shrugging his shoulders, he beckoned the demon with one hand while holding his silver blade high in the air. What did the Joker say? If you gotta go, go with a smile.

Swallowing a deep breath, C.J. licked his lips. "Bring it," he said and, with a thunderous roar, charged.

TBC…

A/N: I decided to split this chapter into two. Not only was I having trouble with the Great Symposium at Casa De Summers but I knew that this chapter was going to be too long if I didn't break it up. With that said, the next part of this chapter, This Old House, will be up no later than Wednesday.