Chapter 22 - A Conversation Over Coffee
In the space between sleeping and waking I hear him, moving around, sounding agitated. I know it's Spike without opening my eyes. As I move slowly upwards towards full consciousness, I remember what happened, and Spike's agitation is explained. Despite that, it still takes me longer than I'd expect to surface completely, and as the details become clearer, my own agitation grows.
At last, I manage to open my eyes, but my first attempt to sit up is a total failure. Alerted, I assume, by my abortive attempts to move, Spike seems to materialise beside me. I'm lying on a bed. Not the bed from the hotel, just a basic double sized bed. The room is a surprise too. It looks like a normal domestic bedroom. Well, fairly normal, in that the only windows are high in the sloped ceiling. There's a chair below one of the windows, positioned to reach them, and I assume Spike's been busy.
"How're you doing?" he asks.
"Groggy? You're doing better by the looks of it."
"Came round maybe half an hour ago. Tried the door, but I couldn't budge it. Same with the window. Looks like we're stuck here for now."
"Spike," I say, as the last memories of recent events click into place. "Do you remember what happened?"
"Well, yeah. Got taken by the brothers Grimm, didn't we?"
"Yes, but you nearly got us out of it."
"Well, I tried, but without my vamp strength …"
"That's just it, Spike. I had a go at them, and they weren't human-strong. Even without my extra abilities, I can tell the difference between normal- and demon-strength, and believe me, they were demon-strong - pretty close to vamp-strong, I'd guess."
"Can't be. The door, and the windows, they're reinforced, but it's not like they're solid steel or anything. If I was vamp-strong, I could've …"
I grab his hand, and turn his arm so I can see it more clearly. It's exactly where I expected to find it, a small, red dot of encrusted blood.
"Looks like you've had a dose of muscle relaxant too," I inform him.
He cranes his head to look, and I can almost see his chest puffing up with pride.
"So, I'm still a match for you then?"
"Spike, you were always a match for me. Strength had nothing to do with it. But now it looks like I've found an ideal sparring partner. You may be human, but there's nothing average about you."
"Well, I never claimed to be average," he says, a smirk starting on his face. "But this puts a whole new complexion on things."
"Still, it doesn't get us out of here," I remind him.
He sobers immediately and gets up to resume his pacing. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, and approach the door. It a little more substantial than a standard domestic door, and, normally, I'd be able to get through it with one kick. I turn away from the door, and consider trying the window too when I hear a key turning in the lock behind me. I swing around, ready to attack, but I'm completely thrown by what I see.
She's tall, well, tall by my standards, maybe 5 foot 7, slim, with long strawberry blonde hair which is pulled into a flattering knot on the top of her head. She's full-figured, but perfectly in proportion, and I'd estimate her age as, well, fortyish. She comes in and calmly locks the door behind her. While her back is turned, I launch an attack anyway, but she bats me away without appearing to expend any effort. I land on the floor a few feet away, and when I look up, she's hovering over me, and offering me a hand to get up.
"I'm sorry about that. Even now, it takes a bit of getting used to, being strong like that. Now, please don't try anything else, because I honestly don't want to hurt you, and as you just saw, my control's not good enough when I'm excited about something."
I ignore her proffered hand, and instead take the one offered by Spike to get up.
"I'm sorry about all this, you know. It's just, I need to talk to you, and I didn't think you'd listen voluntarily, so we had to take measures."
She pulls the chair that was under the window to face the bed, and gestures for us to sit opposite her. On the grounds that we don't seem to have much choice, I sit as directed, and Spike sits beside me. She regards us in silence for a while, and I do some thinking. There's something wrong with this, quite apart from the whole kidnapping thing. I just can't put my finger on it.
"As I said," she begins, "I am extremely sorry for the methods we have used to get to this point. I hope that you will find it in yourselves to forgive us all in time."
"If you want forgiveness, this'd better be some story," Spike mutters under his breath.
I can't help but agree, but I don't say anything.
"You were brought here so that I can explain something of the way we live."
"If you eat human flesh, then I'm not sure I want to know any more," I reply, wondering where this is leading.
"I personally, never have, and never will, eat human flesh. That particular requirement is very specific, and, if you allow me to explain some things, I will eventually get to that."
As she says this, it dawns on me what was wrong. Nothing. That's what my Slayer sense has been giving me. Absolutely nothing. She's either human, or she's a type of demon that flies under the Slayer radar.
"Are you human?" I ask.
She smiles. "You noticed. I'm as human as you are."
"But the strength?"
"Comes from the same source as your own."
Ok, so now I'm confused. She's a Slayer?
"Go on," I encourage.
"I'd like to start by telling you about some of the specifics of the Carnolan way of life."
"But you're human," I interject.
"Yes, but, by choice, I live among the Carnolan. They are my friends, my family. You've already met my boys."
"You mean the goons that brought us here?" Spike interrupts.
"You were brought here by my sons, yes," she replies in a tone which implies that she doesn't think a lot of Spike's use of the word 'goons'. She takes a deep breath then continues. "Let me explain. Carnolan never have female offspring. Despite this, their reproductive requirements are very similar."
"Then how?" Spike asks.
"They use human women."
"What, they take humans to use as brood mares?"
"No, no, nothing so crude. They do not take women against their will. All of us are here willingly."
"But why?" I demand.
"Simple. We fall in love."
Ok, maybe that's true, but then again, maybe she's been brainwashed.
"We choose to live away from humans for the most part. In fact, that wish for seclusion is so deep seated, that we guard information on our existence from everyone. Or at least, we try to. The Senior Partners at Wolfram and Hart have always been aware of us. Until recently, we haven't interfered with their plans at all, and so we've been ignored. Over the past few years, we've become much more active outside our own communities, and that has been in preparation for your coming."
"Ok, I get that you've been waiting for a Slayer, but I'm not the only one any more."
"True, but you were identified by a number of specifics. I'm sure you're aware that, in Slayer terms, you are unique."
I think about that for a moment. So far, it makes sense, in a Hellmouthy sort of way. Except we're not on the Hellmouth any more.
"So, what do you expect me to do?"
"That's simple. We expect, or more exactly, we believe you are our best hope of dealing a major blow to the power of the Senior Partners."
"Not that I'm not in agreement with doing something about the Senior partners," Spike says. "But there's this adage, you know the one, 'better the devil you know'. Can't help but think it applies here. They told us the Carnolan are human-eating demons, and that they're planning on taking power. Can't see the advantage for us in helping you, and I know of at least one disadvantage."
"Well, as to your adage, the best way around that is to get to know us. This house is within an area protected by ancient magic. Anyone on the outside will simply go around it, and not even realise they've been deflected. Only those of Carnolan blood can breach it for themselves. You can't leave the area, although you are welcome to leave the house if you wish."
"If we were free to go," Spike asks, "why the needles and the locked doors?"
"Simple, really. This," she gestures around her, "is my home. I didn't want it wrecked by you trying to escape. Keeping you both in this room until I had a chance to talk to you was all we wanted. The door won't be locked from now on, unless you lock it from the inside."
She looks at us, gauging our reaction. For now, I'm calm, and I'm not getting anything different from Spike.
"Ok, what do you say we take this discussion downstairs and continue it over some coffee? And I baked some biscuits this morning. Or scones," she says, looking at Spike, "if you're English."
She gets up then, opens the door, and we follow her out of the room and onto a narrow staircase. We go down, reaching a landing with several doors, and then continue our descent on what, I assume, was the original staircase. When we reach the bottom, she turns left, and takes us into a large, cozy, kitchen.
"Where are your sons?" I ask. I'm not sure what to make of their mom, but I definitely don't trust them.
"Oh, the boys had to go back to Vegas. Running that hotel takes all their time. Bringing you here was just a favour to me."
She sets coffee brewing, then opens a cupboard and pulls out a tray of biscuits, leaving it on the large wooden table that is the centrepiece of the room. Spike and I each pull up a chair, and soon we both have a large mug of coffee in our hands. Our hostess sits opposite us, and it occurs to me that I don't know her name.
"Who are you?" I ask.
She looks puzzled at the question, then speaks. "Apart from being the mother of three Carnolan demons, you mean?"
"Well, yes."
"My name is Lucy Wells. I was born in California, forty-something years ago. I was a potential Slayer. I had a Watcher and everything - apparently they had me marked as a likely candidate, so I merited my own watcher. Of course, the fact that I didn't have much in the way of parents might have had something to do with it too."
She takes a sip of her coffee, and motions us towards the biscuits, so I take one, spreading it with the offered butter.
"His name was Farthington. John Farthington. He was a good man, still is, as far as I'm aware. He started my training, explaining all about vampires and how to kill them. I enjoyed it, really. It gave me something to do, made me feel important. There wasn't a lot in my life otherwise. He started when I was fifteen, but when I turned eighteen, and still hadn't been called, the Council insisted he go back to London. He had no choice, really. When he tried to tell them that he wanted to stay here, they made it clear that they would have him deported if need be. And, I had a boyfriend, so I wasn't about to travel to England, even for someone I cared about as much as I did for John. I never knew my own father."
"So," I interrupt. "If you were a potential, then that's why you …"
"Got with the serious strength? Yes. When you dissipated the Slayer power to all potentials, I got my share. A bit late in life to be very useful, but I got it just the same. Probably just as well, because if I hadn't, there's no way my boys would have left me alone to talk to you. And they don't see things quite the way you and I do. Much as I love them, Carnolans can be a little single-minded about things they feel are important."
"You keep calling them Carnolans, but surely your sons aren't pure bred? They've got a human mother, after all."
"All Carnolans have a human mother."
"I've heard rumours about some demons like that," Spike says. "It's supposed to be where the tales about the Faerie creatures stealing girls come from, taking them against their will."
"Except the Carnolan take no one against their will."
"You mean you chose this? Being away from your own kind? Being isolated? Why would you do that?"
She turns to me, smiling softly as she speaks. "You, of all people, shouldn't have to ask that. I did it for love. That boyfriend I mentioned? He's now my, well, the human term is husband. I fell in love. Of course, when I first met him, I didn't know he wasn't human. I wasn't a Slayer then, so I didn't get the 'tingle'. But I did know before I decided to be with him. It was quite a shock, finding out that the man you love isn't human, but my background as a potential Slayer helped a bit."
"How do we know you really came voluntarily, and weren't brainwashed?" Spike demands.
"Well, you can only take my word for it, I suppose."
"So, how does it work, I mean, Carnolan man, human woman? You said there aren't any Carnolan women."
"That's right. Carnolan men essentially reproduce themselves. My sons have no biological relationship to me. My body just nurtured them until they were ready to emerge into the world. As for how, well, the mechanics are pretty much like the human version."
"Ok, but there's still the whole eating human flesh thing. I mean, that's got to be wrong."
"What if it's done willingly?"
"You're not going to tell me a human is going to willingly agree to be eaten alive?" Spike's voice is almost a growl.
"There are some rather special circumstances."
"What?" I ask. "You mean, they're suicides or something, just getting a helping hand?"
"No, not like that at all. The only humans whose flesh is eaten are those who have chosen to live among the Carnolan. It's a peculiarity of their, well, biology, but my sons will never be able to reproduce, have children of their own, unless they eat my flesh."
"That's …"
"Disgusting?" She shrugs. "It's a gift, given willingly, or not at all. It's my choice, and when the time comes, I will do it."
"When the time comes?"
"When I am close to death. My sons will know that. There is a ceremony, and these days, there's even anaesthetic. It's the order of things in this society. From death, comes life."
There's a matter-of-factness about the way she says it that screams 'truth' at me louder than any protestations she could make. There's even a weird sort of logic about it too.
Spike drains the last of his coffee.
"So, tell me what you have in mind for the Senior Partners" Spike seems intent on changing the subject.
"Oh, that? Well, we aren't actually that strong, not in the way they're strong. But we have one advantage. We know the source of their power."