The Second Summoned One

"This is not good." The room was darkened, the pale pattern of the moonlight spread across the expensive polished floor. Everything around was brown and golden, old looking furniture that any eccentric collector would kill to possess. The fire danced numbly on the fireplace as a man walked back and forth on top on the fluffy Persian rug. "This is not good!"

"You already said that Henry." A man sat behind a big desk dared to smile, intertwining is long fingers.

"But this situation is not good! They should have contacted us hours ago. They already knew the drill... this is not good!"

"We're getting a bit repetitive, aren't we Henry?"

The short white haired man looked then to one of the black tall armchairs. A smooth brown haired girl was sat there with an absent look on her soft lined face. More than absent, she was looking bored to death when she glanced Henry for a second, diving again afterwards into de difficult mission of peeling off her nail polish from her nails. She let out another bored sigh.

"This lack of communications has to be taken very seriously, James." Henry retaliated, walking again back and fourth on the rug. His conservative looking clothes – a brown tweed suit – made it clear that he was something near to a very important Englishman. His grey eyes eyed the man behind the desk, a trustworthy respectable man. "You knew since the beginning that I didn't agree with the Council's decision. After all he had already lost one Slayer! And like I expected he lost a another one!"

"Henry..."

"I warned you, James! God knows I warned you! He just wasn't qualified!" Henry continued, ignoring James's words. "Just look at the evidence! To the most trustworthy and ancient of them! The journals!"

"... Henry...?"

"Never! Never on the history Guardians, a Guardian was called for a second time after losing its Slayer, but no! Giles had to have a second chance! Look to what he's done with your second chance! And right on the moment when--"

"Henry!" James said finely, tired of hearing to the old man's complains. He rubbed his temples as to find some peace of mind. "Henry... Giles did an excellent job with Buffy Summers. She did what was expected of her, she stopped evil from coming and destroy the world as we know it." He made a well-calculated pause, an extraordinary example of oratory. "What happened to Giles's the second Slayer was an unfortunate accident. But thanks to it, we know that evil is reuniting its hordes, after the Master's last attempt to rise and his consequent destruction. And as for the Guardian's journals, Henry, they aren't always that accurate."

The girl on the cosy black leather armchair left out a giggle without looking at the men, feeling an hint of sarcasm on James's last comment. She moved a bit to get more comfortable, now sat across the armchair, with her legs on top of one of the chair's arms. James glanced at her briefly, a warm smile on his lips.

Henry swallowed what he was going to say next. He could say it later. He started pacing again back and forth, looking at his watch, looking out the window. "It's nearly dawn. They should be arriving already."

James nodded now feeling worried and the first ray of sunlight entered the room by the tall window. The girl placed her hand in front of her eyes to keep the sun from maintaining her blind when, suddenly, she jumped up from the armchair like someone had given her an electric shock.

"Hannah?" James asked softly, only moving his eyes.

Her blue eyes were serious and when she spoke, her voice sounded almost unreal. "She's dead."

"What?! What are you saying child? Who died?" Henry almost yelled at her ears, but Hannah remained undisturbed.

She slowly rose the sleeve of her orange very-in-fashion blouse and shown the inner skin of her upper right arm. A dark mole was there, an odd shaped one. She touched it feeling a bit of disgust. Well, at least it was on as hidden place.

James rose from his chair and walked to her without making a sound, his chestnut eye glowed with the morning light as he observed her mole and then her face. He let out an indecipherable sigh and sat again. "The sign of the Slayers." He whispered softly.

"If she was called, then the other one must be dead. Our men didn't get to her on time!" Henry almost yelled again. "The vampires are moving fast!"

Hannah stared at her mole for a bit more before she covered it again, pushing her silky brown fringe away from her eyes. She had sensed it, the death of the Slayer... like she had sensed the death of the Slayer before that one. She felt like a cold grip had involved her when she felt the death and this time it was even stronger, as to warn that she would be next. She smiled. She was glad that she'd been called, she had yearned for it. She had been trained for it. Hannah turned at Henry, a bright spark on her clear eyes.

"Moving fast or not, they have to beware." Her voice transpired confidence and courage. "Now it's my turn."

TO BE CONTINUED! (Unfinished chapter)