Once Burned

by Aesop

RoswellAngel 10: Trust is a precious commodity, one the Council is all too willing to sacrifice.

Once Burned...

By Aesop

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters from BTVS or Roswell; I'm just borrowing them. No profit is earned, so if there are any lawyers reading this just relax and enjoy.

RATING: PG-13

CATEGORY: Crossover

SUMMARY: Trust is a valuable commodity. One the Watcher's Council is prepared to throw away all too easily.

Keeln watched the human depart in frustration. The man had simply not understood their position. What the Watchers wanted was not possible. She turned to the elder beside her. "I do not believe we have heard the last of this, honored mother."

"It doesn't matter daughter. Let them make what arguments they will, our answer cannot change." Keeln nodded in agreement, but there remained a niggling doubt. She did not believe the Council would take no for an answer.

OOO

My name is Liz Parker, and I kill things in my spare time, what there is of it, when I'm not busy killing things. Liz reread the last line of her journal entry and frowned. God, that's depressing. After a moment's consideration she decided to let the entry stand, depressing or not. Closing her diary she flopped back on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She had 10 minutes before she had to leave to meet Spike for patrol. Max was coming along, and that was both good and bad. Any time spent with Max was precious, but while on patrol, while killing things, she was required to show him a part of herself that she knew he wasn't comfortable with.

It could get awkward, no denying, but there were plenty of times when the awkwardness dropped away and they were just an ordinary couple. She lived for those moments. Hopefully there'll be time for one of them later tonight. With that happy thought bolstering her, she rolled off the bed and dressed for patrol, selecting a pair of sweat pants and an old shirt, not wanting to ruin her good clothes. She remembered how Buffy had dressed when they went after Devarii. Very fashionable to be sure, but honestly, why dress to impress people you're going to kill?

Girl must be rich or something, she thought as she pulled on clothes that could be tossed without regret if she got blood on them. Patrol that night would take her through a park and two cemeteries. The last week had been quiet, and there had been a chance to actually pretend to be normal. The demons looking for Cole's treasure had begun looking elsewhere, not because they knew anything Liz didn't, but because they were learning to avoid Roswell. Too many demons, it seemed, had come to town and never left.

That and the fact that no one had found the treasure near Roswell had caused the initial flow of demonic visitors to slow to a trickle. There were still problems from that quarter of course, but more and more she was seeing demons that were looking for her rather than for the treasure. Word had gotten around and the legend had grown beyond reason. She was the Slayer who defeated Cole's army. One would think she'd done it all by herself the way the toughs were lining up to make a name off of her bloody demise.

She met them at the bottom of the ladder that descended from her balcony. With a smile and nod for Spike and a kiss for Max they were off.

OOO

"This could undo the progress I've made with her," he warned.

"Your lack of progress is precisely why this is necessary," Travers answered coolly. "The Council feels that this is the only way to gain the Slayer's cooperation. Her preference for nonviolent solutions makes her all the more likely to assist us in this matter. Present the facts to her as I've instructed and let her reach her own conclusions. If all goes well, she need never know."

"Very well," Hawkins acceded with bad grace. Travers' assumption that the Slayer was stupid was going to cost them all, but there was little choice. On that point at least, he was in full agreement with his superiors. The goal was important enough to risk the Slayer's ire.

There were preparations to make first though. Nothing could be left to chance if he was to carry out their orders successfully.

OOO

The Rayther demon hit the wall hard but didn't go down. Max directed another burst of energy into the creature while Liz settled for delivering a roundhouse kick to its companion's head. This proved slightly more effective and she drove a knife between its ribs at a downward angle in order to reach the place where Spike had indicated that a Rayther demon kept its heart. The creature slumped forward without a sound and Liz turned to see the other demon sliding to the floor, eyes going glassy. "That's the last," Max said turning to look at his girlfriend.

"Good. Why don't we call it a night?"

"Can't yet. These things don't go poof like vampires, and we can't leave them here to be found." Liz frowned at the prospect.

"Can't you just-" she waved her hand over the bodies.

"I suppose," he answered with a grimace, not liking to use his powers for that particular chore.

"You'd rather spend the rest of the night sneaking them out to the desert to bury them?"

"Good point." The task was finished a few moments later, leaving only large piles of dust on the floor that he scattered with another wave of his hand. "What next?

"Home to bed," she sighed with a glance at her watch. "I'm glad my parents know about the Slayer bit now. I don't know how much longer I could've kept lying about whether I had fun on my date." She noticed Max's expression. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, but it's still depressing." Liz stepped into his arms and kissed him. "Less depressing... better... much better..."

"Ahem." They broke apart. "So did you kill them or did they slip into diabetic comas and expire on their own?" Liz gave her teacher a dirty look. "Hawkins is outside, comin' down the street. Might be a good idea to clear out." He glanced at Max meaningfully and the young man sighed, nodding. Hawkins knew that Max and Michael sometimes patrolled with Liz, but they had been careful about letting the Watcher even suspect that there was anything unusual about them.

"Head him off," Max suggested. "Tell him I'm on cleanup detail. I'll leave when you've got him away from here."

"Okay," Liz stole a last kiss and headed up the stairs of the basement she had tracked the demons to with Spike right behind her, to intercept Hawkins. "Wish the Council would take a hint and clear out," she muttered in irritation. "It's like sneaking Max past my parents with him around." Did I say that out loud? She ignored the look Spike gave her while hoping it was too dark for him to see her blush. They parted company at the door, and the vampire watched from the shadow of the recessed doorway as she moved to intercept the Watcher

Hawkins was making his way down the street, alert for the predators that had become more common in Roswell of late. She left the building half a block in front of him and made her way toward him. "Liz. Are you all right? You look a bit worse for wear."

Liz glanced down at herself and noticed a tear in the shirt that hadn't been there before. There was dirt on her clothes and a little rayther blood. "I'm fine. You should see the other guy." Hawkins raised an eyebrow. "Raythers. They won't be causing any problems. Spike and Max are handling clean up."

"Do they know...?"

"Yeah. The bodies'll be properly disposed of."

"Good enough. Are you done for the evening? There was something I wanted to discuss with you."

"Nearly," Liz improvised quickly, wanting to lead him away from the building. "I was going to swing through the park on my way home if you want to join me." She started to walk back toward the park and Hawkins fell in beside her. "So what's up?"

"We may have a crisis. There are signs that a conjunction of events may be approaching that could put our world at risk."

"Conjunction of events?"

"Difficult to explain. A thinning of the walls between this and another, very... unpleasant, dimension, and an alignment of planets that indicates the rise of an ancient evil. I'm afraid it's all rather vague. Individually any one might be considered almost normal fare for the Council and a well prepared Slayer, but in combination... well it could be a very serious problem."

"The straw that broke the Council's back?" she asked lightly, choosing to ignore his 'well prepared Slayer' remark and his tone, answering his slight with one of her own.

"You could put it that way," he allowed. "We find ourselves in a tight spot, but we have a potential solution that I believe you can appreciate." Liz didn't answer, but raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue. "Brute force will be of little use in resolving this, at least until the time of crisis actually arrives. I feel that some preventative measures are in order. This is a problem better handled with a well thought out plan than a well placed blow."

"You mean..."

"I mean we're better off thinking our way through this than fighting our way through. What do you say? Will you help me prevent some pointless violence?"

Liz surprised herself and him by smiling slightly. "You can tell us the details tomorrow night at the CrashDown. That's the soonest I can get everyone together."

"That will be fine, but do you think it a good idea to involve civilians? Spike is bad enough." She shot him a warning look. "I'm sorry, but you know how I feel about that vampire. Perhaps my attitude is unjustified. After all, I'm sure he thinks the world of me."

"Point taken, still Spike will be there, as will a few of the others. Civilians or not, they do contribute."

"Very well," Hawkins tried to hide his disapproval. "Please understand, my sole concern is for their welfare. This is not the safest line of work after all."

"I know, and so do they. It's one of the reasons Max insists on getting involved."

Hawkins repressed a sigh and nodded. "Very well then, tomorrow at the café." They set a time about a half-hour after sunset and entered the park together.

OOO

School was a blur the next day. Liz essentially sleepwalked through her classes. Answering the questions put to her automatically and performing tasks by rote. Hawkins had told her some of what was coming, saving the details for that evening. What he had told her though was bad enough. A powerful demon would rise soon and it would be in a position to take advantage a mystical event that would bring it great power, making it essentially unstoppable.

The Council didn't have all of the details though, and they needed them if they were to have a hope of stopping it. There was, Hawkins had said, only one problem. That being that the only copy of the scroll containing the full text of the prophecy was being guarded by a rather vicious group of demons.

During biology, Max noticed how distracted she was and asked. When the class was over she pulled him aside. "Meet me at the CrashDown tonight about 6:00. Hawkins has something that I may need to work on."

"Hawkins, and you want us there?" Liz knew how Max and the others felt about Hawkins and the Council in general, but if she needed him he would be there to help her.

"I don't trust him. I'd feel better if you and Michael at least were there."

Max nodded. "All right. Do you have any idea what this is about?"

She shook her head. "Not really. Spike will be there too. If he's got something up his sleeve I hope Spike'll pick up on it."

"We'll be there," Max assured her.

OOO

Hawkins looked over the small group with an expression of resignation. The Slayer's determination to include others in her duties was trying at the best of times. As he was about to send her on a delicate and dangerous mission, their presence was even more of a problem than usual. "Has everyone who is coming arrived?"

"Yeah," Michael nodded. "Now what's this about?"

Ignoring the rudeness, Hawkins got down to business. "It's about death, mayhem, chaos, and the opportunity to prevent it. Business as usual." Michael looked unimpressed, but he didn't interrupt either. "Vague prophecies speak of a series of events, seemingly unrelated, that will culminate in the unleashing of a powerful force. This cannot be allowed. Whatever demon or magical entity will use this opportunity to enter our world must be stopped. Unfortunately we don't have enough information. We have," he raised a finger, "myth," another finger, "research, reasonably solid, concerning mystical conjunctions occurring soon, and," he raised a third finger, "guess work about what we might be facing."

"Not exactly full of facts tonight are you?" Spike groused.

"I do have one pertinent fact. I know where to find the scroll containing the full text of the prophecy most directly related to this event. It is said to give details not recorded anywhere else. Our goal," he glanced around the group, "is to acquire it."

"By acquire," Max asked, "do you mean steal? And if so, from who?"

"Whom," Hawkins corrected absently. "The scroll is in the keeping of a group of rather dangerous demons. The leader is something of an information broker." This part would be tricky. "This demon has contacts with a variety of dangerous creatures, and its underworld contacts include dealers in mystical artifacts. At some point it came into possession of the prophecy. It is imperative that we obtain that scroll."

"You say this demon is a broker," Max spoke thoughtfully. "Is the scroll for sale?"

"No, and if it were, it wouldn't be for sale to a Slayer, or to a vampire who works with a Slayer." He glanced at Spike, having anticipated that question.

"So stealing it is our only option?" Michael concluded. "What kind of demon and where do we find it?"

"You don't. This will require rather specialized skills, and while I may disapprove of Liz's association with Spike, I can't argue with success. She has the skills required."

"Now wait a minute-"

"Don't worry, Max," Hawkins hastened to assure him. "You do have a part to play in this. The collection is well protected. In order to obtain the scroll, she will require a distraction. I would like you and Michael to create it." The two boys shared a dubious look.

"Draw off the guards while Liz sneaks in, huh?"

"Exactly Michael. To be perfectly honest," he continued, "I would have preferred to use trained council operatives for this sort of thing, but I suspected I would need to involve you to secure Liz's cooperation. It is, after all a somewhat morally dubious undertaking." He smiled at Liz. "Under the circumstances I suspected you would prefer to have people you trust backing you up."

"Why don't we begin at the beginning?" Max suggested. "Tell us everything you know about the prophecy and the demons guarding it." His request headed off comments from Liz and Michael. Max knew that they could debate all night and accomplish nothing. If it had to be done, and it was best to just get on with it, whatever reservations he might have.

OOO

The demons' 'stronghold' was nothing like they had expected.

"You've got to be kidding," Michael stared at the perfectly normal looking RV Park. "I grew up in a trailer nicer than the rigs I'm seein' here." Liz had to agree. The place was nothing special to look at. Most people, she realized, would probably avoid it, and perhaps that was the point. She shared the thought with the others.

"Hiding in plain sight?" Max nodded thoughtfully. "It's worked for us." He noticed Michael casting a cautious glance toward Hawkins, but the Watcher was still sitting in his car talking on his cell phone. "Plus it allows them to stay mobile. This group hasn't been here long." The park's population had recently been increased by the arrival of the demons' caravan. Weathered vehicles that were carefully kept roadworthy, although barely by the looks of some of them, carried the group all across the country.

Michael nodded thoughtfully. "This bunch could be gone by morning and not leave a trace of themselves behind if they had to leave. It was the same with a lot of our neighbors. Some of the trailers in our park never had the same people livin' in 'em for more than a month."

Max nodded absently, not wanting to think about Michael's life. "We'll start the diversion about an hour after sunset."

Liz nodded. "I'll be in position. If Hawkins' information is right it should only take me a few minutes to get in and out with the scroll." Something in her voice made Max glance at her.

"You ok Liz?"

"Yes. I just..."

"You don't like the idea of stealing, even from demons." She nodded. "I don't like it either, but none of us had any better ideas, and it does beat waiting around for the prophecy to fulfill itself."

"I know, but it doesn't make this feel any more right, and I'm not sure it's just my conscience nagging me. We've got Hawkins' word on this and nothing else. That bothers me. I still don't trust him."

"Well Giles thought it was a reasonable plan when you talked to him," Michael pointed out. "At least he didn't have any better ideas based on what the Council knows." Liz nodded, still looking uncomfortable.

"I know Michael, but I can't shake the feeling that this is going to go very wrong somehow." Squaring her shoulders she sighed. "Still, it's the only plan we have."

The group split up to watch and wait. Shortly after sunset the park began to grow more active, as the recent arrivals began to move between their respective vehicles. The movements were furtive, and they didn't interact with the other residents.

At first, their circumstances and behavior had made little sense to Liz. Why would anyone making a supposedly lucrative living choose to travel in such a manner, let alone live in such conditions? According to Hawkins, however, the caravan was only a small part of the operation. The travelers gathered information and artifacts for the demon that ran the operation, then the merchandise, be it dangerous magical artifacts or simply the whereabouts of those artifacts, were sold to a very black market.

The ringleader himself was not in residence. That would make the people she was watching, Liz concluded, low level functionaries. It still felt wrong though, and not merely from a moral standpoint. She was getting an entirely different vibe from the demons.

Unsure what it meant, she set aside her doubts and focused on the mission. Checking her watch, she realized that the diversion was only moments away.

Right on time, there was a squeal of tires and the sound of someone gunning an engine that clearly lacked a muffler. Incoherent shouting and the repeated revving of now two engines brought people out of their trailers.

The engine noise became louder and there were shouts of alarm as two cars, apparently engaged in a race, barreled through the small trailer park. "Yeah, that should do it," she muttered, shaking her head. She wondered briefly whose idea that had been, but reminded herself why she was there and focused on business again. Her chance to finish the job had just presented itself as two figures emerged from the trailer she was watching and headed for the improvised racecourse.

The trailer, of course, possessed only one door. Liz knew she would have to move quickly. In through the door, there was one demon left in the trailer. A growl drew her attention to the right and she found herself facing the ugliest guard dog she had ever seen. "Uh... Good dog?"

The creature snarled at her and rushed forward. It was met with a solid kick to the head and slumped to the floor. "That was too easy," Liz murmured, the nagging feeling that the situation was not what it seemed reasserting itself. She didn't take time to ponder it though.

There was only one locked door, reinforced, she soon discovered, by a spell that burned her hand when she tried to force the handle. Hawkins had anticipated this though. He had assured her that the small vial of blue powder he had provided would suffice to nullify any magic protecting the scroll. A pinch of it thrown against the door caused sparks to fly. Another pinch caused a sizzling sound and then an audible pop as the spell gave way.

Cramped but clean and orderly, the room appeared to be a home office, not to different from the one that Philip Evans kept. A quick search of the room turned up only one place the scroll could be. A pinch of blue powder and a sharp tug later she was holding a locked metal box that would have looked like any ordinary gray metal file box had it not been for the symbols painted on it in what appeared to be blood. The box resisted the powder and her strength so she settled for taking it with her.

Getting out was trickier than getting in, people were beginning to lose interest in the distraction, but she managed to escape without being seen.

Half an hour later she was handing the box to Hawkins. "This what you needed? I couldn't open it."

"Let us hope so." He muttered a few words of Latin over the box and it popped open. Inside was a tightly bound scroll with an elaborate seal. "Yes. This is it. With the full text of the prophecy we should be able to stop it from coming to pass. Thank you. Thank you all."

"Don't mention it," Michael muttered. "Ever." It had been a close call for the team causing the distraction. Someone in the trailer park had called the police about them. Demons calling the police, Michael shook his head. That, they hadn't expected.

OOO

Hawkins returned to the small apartment he had taken and placed a call. "Yes sir. Everything went well. I got the scroll... No. They don't suspect. They're part in this ends now though." He listened for a moment as Travers provided instructions for the delivery of the scroll. He made no comment on Hawkins assertion that the Slayer's part was finished.

"Very well sir. I'll be waiting." He hung up the phone without further comment, irritated by the older man's attitude. Travers had never met Parker or her friends and yet he presumed to know how best to deal with them? He just hoped the head of the Watcher's Council was correct and the scroll was worth the trouble.

Turning from the phone, he found himself face to chest with someone. Jumping back in alarm, he looked up to find a large Kaleb demon staring down at him. "The scroll. Where is it?"

Backing away hurriedly Hawkins maintained eye contact with the creature, careful not to even glance in the scroll's direction. "What scroll? How dare you-? Irk!" He found himself lifted off his feet by his collar.

"Try again." When Hawkins didn't answer the demon threw him against a wall. "Never mind. I'll find it myself."

OOO

Liz Parker stretched out on her bed, anxious to spend at least a few hours that night in peaceful sleep. She had worried that she would toss and turn for a while, but she was sound asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.

The creature seemed to be made of shadow and flame and it towered over her. Liz backed away, staring at it with uncontrollable dread. All her instincts were telling her to run, to hide, to cower from this thing, but in the finest tradition of truly terrifying nightmares, she found that she was completely unable to move.

Nausea threatened to overwhelm her as it continued to grow, stepping out of the fire from which it had been called. Glimpses of the form beneath the shadow and flame that concealed its true nature made her gorge rise faster. This creature did not belong. Its shape, its very nature was wrong in a profound way. Spreading its... arms? They seemed miles long at full extent even though the creature itself was no more than... she couldn't judge. It didn't obey any of the conventional laws of physics or even normal geometry, being of a shape that shouldn't have been able to exist in this world.

With an effort she tore her eyes from the grotesquerie and looked down. A group of demons were gathered around the fire from which it had emerged and one of them was reading from a scroll. The very scroll she had stolen that night. Even as she watched though, the scene changed. The demons, the scroll, even the ground on which they stood began to distort, ripple, and change. The world started to... become wrong... was the only phrase she could think of that even came close. She glanced up at the thing that had emerged from the fire and realized what was happening. It was changing the world.

It would begin slowly, she knew, but soon the change would accelerate, until the creature had remade the world in its own alien image. The rock formations, the demons, the air itself began to change, taking on bizarre, impossible angles and aspects. The change suddenly surged forward and washed over her.

Liz came awake suddenly and ran for the bathroom. Nancy Parker found her there a few moments later and went to her knees beside her daughter.

"Liz? Honey, what's wrong?"

Liz didn't reply for a moment, trying to get her breathing back under control. Resting her forehead against the porcelain bowl where she'd just emptied her stomach, she gasped for breath, still shaking from reaction to the dream.

"Honey?" Her mother tried again to comfort her, wondering frantically what was wrong.

"Mom," she croaked finally getting her breath back. "I think I screwed up. Bad." She pushed herself to her feet. "I've got to get to Hawkins. Something's wrong." She didn't stay to explain, but pulled on jeans and a blouse before rushing out.

She ran all the way to the apartment Hawkins now rented by the month. They had taken it as a bad sign when he had moved there from the motel rather than returning to England as they'd wished him to do. His desire to be useful had made him more tolerable, but still, no one was comfortable around him.

Liz' misgivings about the Watcher's Council had not entirely vanished, but she thought she knew what to expect from Hawkins. At the moment though, she didn't know what to expect, what she'd find when she arrived. How had the demons gotten the scroll?

The door was open and the light was on. Barging in, she called out to him, receiving a groan in response. "Hawkins?" Another groan answered and she moved around the couch to find him lying on the floor, bruised and a little bloody. "Too late," she gritted, going to him. "What happened? Are you badly hurt?"

"I'll be fine, but that creature got the scroll."

"I know. I had a dream." He looked up sharply. "A group of demons were reading from it during some kind of ceremony. They summoned something."

"That cannot be allowed." He started to rise, but Liz pushed him down. "Liz?"

"What didn't you tell us?"

"I don't-"

"Don't give me that! I take the scroll and it's stolen from you the same night?"

"We must have been under surveillance," he shook his head. "It's the only explanation."

"No. Merely the most convenient." Liz rose to her feet and spun to face Hawkins' newest visitor. The sight before her stopped her in her tracks. There was an old woman standing in the doorway, leaning on a cane. Their visitor was short and rail thin, and it looked as if a strong breeze could carry her away. However frail her body looked though, her eyes were sharp and alert, taking in the mess that had been made of the Watcher's rooms in a quick glance. "I see Buriihesh has already been here. Is it too much to hope that you did not disturb the protective wards keeping the box closed?"

"Um... Who are you?' Liz asked relaxing slightly. She knew that appearances could be deceiving, but the woman looked like a stick figure.

"The person whose home you burglarized earlier tonight," she answered simply. Closing her eyes a moment, she concentrated. "You opened the box."

"What's going on here?" Liz demanded of Hawkins. "I get that you lied to me, or at least didn't tell the whole truth, but now I want details!"

"It's not that simple Liz," he tried to calm her. "The prophecy wasn't safe where it was, not with the deadline for fulfilling it so close at hand."

"It has been safe during each of the five previous conjunctions," the old woman contradicted sternly. "My clan has kept it safe from the Dark Ones since it was first handed down over a thousand years ago."

"So what's changed?" Liz asked. "Why try for it now if it's been safe all this time?"

"It wasn't safe," Hawkins insisted, "not while in the hands of demons."

"You...?"

"I am of the Kwaini," the old woman nodded. "We are balancing demons. We serve the light, and the cause of life."

"I'm willing to bet the council knew this?"

"They did."

Liz considered for a moment. "I need to make some calls."

OOO

When Max and Michael arrived Liz introduced the Kwaini who told them her name was Me'aln. Then, she told them about her dream and what she had learned since then.

"Why did you lie to us?" Max asked for the group. "You told us these people had acquired the scroll for some sort of magical black market. Now we find out that they've been guarding it, keeping the prophecy out of the hands of the people who want to see it come true."

"The Council had only the Kwainis' word for that. We wanted our own people to verify the nature of the prophecy."

"You are not telling them all," Me'aln broke in calmly. She turned to Liz. "The Council sought to manipulate Prophecy to bring to pass the part of it that suited their agenda. Is this not so?"

"Our only goal was to protect the Prophecy," Hawkins insisted.

"Yeah," Michael scowled at him. "Good job."

"The Council wishes control over the forces that would allow the Old Ones to reenter our world. They believe that control of the portals and the forces that allow their creation will give them a new weapon in their war. The ability to banish a powerful demon at will or to seal a portal permanently would be a formidable advantage, but the magic that originally banished the old ones is lost to us."

"That was why it was so important to protect the Prophecy. There's no way to stop that thing from emerging if the gate is opened." Me'aln shook her head. "The Council was hoping to... reverse engineer the spells to learn how to control the portals?"

"Essentially, if I understand your words."

Liz turned back to Hawkins. "You didn't answer Max's question. Why did you lie to us?"

"I di-" he broke off at the looks on their faces. "I was under orders. The risk of leaving the Prophecy without proper prot-" He broke off again. "Its true, but... what she said is also true. The Kwaini could always tell when a Council operative was coming. I'm not sure how." He shook his head. "I told Travers this was a bad idea, but he ordered me to involve you in this."

"Use us to steal what you couldn't," Max clarified, his temper starting to get the better of him. He then turned away. "All right. How do we fix this?" He glanced at Me'aln. "Any idea where this demon is?" She shook her head. "What would he need to do this spell?"

"I have never allowed myself to know the full details. I know only that the time for the conjunction approaches. It will occur tomorrow night, and that will be the only chance for them to perform the ritual. Once the conjunction passes, the chance to release the Old One will have passed for another 227 years."

"So if we can make them miss this window..." Michael began.

"Then the Prophecy will be stopped until the next one comes around," Max finished. "First we have to find them though."

"There aren't that many demon hideouts in Roswell," Michael pointed out. "I say we start knocking down some doors."

"These demons weren't local," the Watcher put in. "I doubt you'll find any trace of them and time is limited." He stopped, noting the way they were all looking at him.

"If we want to hear from you," Michael gritted out, "we'll hurt you. Till then, shut up." He paid Hawkins no further attention and turned back to the others. "Someone's gotta know something."

"What kind of demon was it?"

"Buriihesh is of the Miquot." She glanced about and moved to the couch. Reaching into a tear in the fabric, she pulled free what looked like a shard of bone. "The Miquot can grow these from their own bodies quickly. They make formidable throwing weapons."

"Never met one before," Liz commented taking the proffered blade and examining it. "This should be interesting." Changing focus instantly, she faced the others. "Spread out. I'll call Alex and get him checking for recent possibly demon related news items. Michael, go get Spike and bring him up to date. Max, you go let Valenti know what's happening." Finally, reluctantly, she turned to Hawkins. "Call the Sheriff's department and report the robbery, Max will see if the Sheriff can increase patrols on the main roads out of town, but he'll need a good excuse to do so." She turned back to Max. "Have him look for any cars with tinted or blacked-out windows. I'm going to check with some of the local demons, see if they know anything." She grabbed a note pad and scribbled her cell phone number on it. "Me'aln, if you think of anything useful or learn anything more, call me right away."

The old woman nodded. "Of course Slayer." She turned and made her way toward the door. Liz turned back to the others.

"According to my dream the ceremony will take place outside at night in the desert. Doesn't mean its local, but we'll hope for the best." She took a deep breath. "Guys? I got a look at this thing in my dream. We cannot let it into this world. Go."

They scattered to their various assignments. Max loaned Michael the jeep and ran for Valenti home, less than a mile away. As he ran, he reflected on Liz' reaction to her dream. He had rarely seen her so rattled. It had become standard procedure by now for Liz to handle all demon related matters while Max took charge if something alien related happened. Or, as Maria liked to put it, Max handled the sci-fi and Liz took the horror.

It was an arrangement that had worked well with very little kibitzing. Max found himself wondering though if she was ready for this. Liz had had one or two 'Slayer dreams' before, but had never reacted to one like this. She was scared.

By the time he reached the sheriff's home he had come to the conclusion he had already known he would. Whatever support he could give her, he would. If she needed him to stand beside her, he would. If she needed him to hold her hand, he would. If she needed him to take the lead, he would.

Sheriff Valenti took a few moments to respond to his knocking. It was after 11:00. "Max?" He looked over the young man, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What's up?"

"We have a problem. Can I come in?"

They also woke Tess, who reluctantly settled in to listen. It took about 10 minutes to bring them up to speed and get Valenti on the phone. He agreed with Liz, that it should be treated, for the sake of his deputies, as a standard robbery. Valenti had a reason for ordering his men to search for suspicious looking vehicles and after a routine check-in with his office; he went to see to the matter personally.

Hawkins was less than pleased at having to give a statement to the local authorities, but it was made clear to him that the decision was not his. Once he accepted this, he did an admirable job of giving them helpful details about his assailants without mentioning anything demon related.

OOO

"The Miquot are not generally a violent race, Liz." Geoff set a cup of tea on the table. "It is unusual to hear of one committing violent acts of this nature."

"Is this Buriihesh is an exception then?" She sipped the tea that the Anamovic had offered her, hospitable despite the late hour.

He sat back, considering his answer for a moment. The two had met shortly after Liz was called and had occasionally been able to help each other. He remembered how Liz had rescued his little sister a few weeks after she had been called, from a Graplar demon that had a grudge against him. He had passed on what he knew of the history and habits of various demons that came to town, Geoff being something of an amateur anthropologist or rather demonologist.

This was not the first late night visit he'd had from the Slayer, but this was the most urgent yet. Nevertheless he'd insisted on playing host and offering her tea while he considered her questions. "Do not misunderstand," he sighed finally. "There are bad apples just as there are among Humans, but most of the Miquot have eschewed the violent ways of the past as my own kind has. The Anamovic people were once warlike, we feuded with other demon tribes, but that is behind us. Not all of the Miquot abandoned worship of the Old Ones, but the numbers are small."

"Have you heard anything specific?"

"I wish I could help, and you know I would if I could, but we have little contact with other demon races. I haven't even seen a Miquot in over ten years." He paused to think for a moment. "I heard some strange stories coming out of L.A. not too long ago but that's actually fairly normal for that city. Something about a citywide cult and a 'Power-That-Was,' whatever that means. There's always something strange going on there. That's one of the reasons we settled in a small town."

"You wanted to avoid strange and you settled in Roswell?"

The question startles a laugh out of Geoff. "Aliens?" He smiled almost condescendingly. "Come on Liz. Do you believe that?"

OOO

Dodd frowned as the expensive looking sedan roared by his favorite hiding spot. Valenti's instructions had been rather strange, but lately odd orders from him were almost becoming routine. Tonight he was looking for unusual traffic. Vehicles with blacked out or tinted windows. That this was the only lead in a robbery was strange in itself, but the sheriff had been insistent that this particular robber not be allowed to get out of town.

Dodd shook his head and continued to watch, not entirely sure what he was watching for. The road to Galinas had been quiet for the hour he'd been there. Only three cars had passed by and he recognized them all. Two rigs had also passed him headed into Roswell.

As the thought that he was wasting his time occurred to him for the fourth time in twenty minutes, a van roared past his position. He didn't need the radar gun to know that it was exceeding the speed limit. Time to do some real work, he thought, pulling on to the road behind the van.

A brief flash of lights and a single whoop from his siren were enough to let the driver know that he wanted them to pull over. They complied and Dodd took a moment to run the plates. Satisfied with the results, he got out of the cruiser and moved up alongside the van. This vehicle he didn't recognize, but that didn't mean anything. It was registered to a man who lived in Galinas for one thing. Probably just in a hurry to get home, he thought as he approached. He noticed as he came alongside that the windows were tinted and frowned. It was impossible to see anything inside.

Letting his left hand hang casually by his side, close to his sidearm, he knocked on the driver's window. It slid down smoothly; automatic, he noted absently, but then frowned as he noted something odd. He couldn't make out the interior of the van. He couldn't see the driver's face or even a vague outline. Despite the nearly full moon, the darkness inside the van seemed almost a solid thing.

"Please step out of the vehicle," he ordered, starting to take a step back, feeling unnerved by the strange phenomenon. Then he saw something.

OOO

James Valenti pushed through the hospital doors and made straight for the admissions desk. "Jen," he called to the nurse on duty. She glanced up and reached for the clipboard on the shelf.

"The doctor is with him now. We're not sure what happened yet." There was little need for formality or explanation. Valenti had made far too many visits like this. A wounded officer used to be a fairly rare occurrence in Roswell, but the number of on the job injuries had been climbing steadily for the last couple of years.

"When can I see him?"

"I'll let you know the minute the doctor is done."

"Thank you." Reluctantly he moved to a chair and sat down to wait.

Dodd had been found insensate in the middle of the road and it was pure luck that the driver of the car that brought him to the hospital hadn't run him over.

There were technicians at the station pulling the surveillance feed from the camera in his car, but it would take time. The camera had been smashed, and the technician at the station had said that retrieving and restoring the footage would be a painstaking process. There were others to see to that though. For the moment, his place was here, checking on his wounded officer.

He wondered if this was related to the matter their local Slayer was so interested in, but wouldn't bother alerting her until he knew. It could easily be just some dopehead who got pulled over for speeding and didn't want to get busted for DUI or possession.

In general, he was willing to let Liz handle demon related matters, especially after he had gotten two ribs busted trying to take down a mugger who turned out to be a vampire. The wound to his pride had been worse than the ribs, especially as he couldn't tell anyone that the 'punk kid' who'd beaten him up was a walking corpse many times stronger than he was.

He refused to let her involve herself in routine police work though. Until he knew what this was, there was no way he was going to bring her into it.

"Sheriff?"

Jim Valenti looked up to see Dr. Martinez approaching. "How is he?" He came to his feet. "Is he awake?"

"He has a concussion and some unusual cuts and bruises about his head and neck, but he'll be okay. He's still unconscious for the moment, and it might be a while before he wakes up."

"Doctor-"

"I know he probably saw something important to whatever investigation you're conducting. I'll contact you as soon as he wakes and I've had a chance to determine the full scope of his injuries."

"What about his injuries? You said the cuts and bruises were... unusual?"

"Yes," Martinez stopped to consider. "I've seen wounds like them in the E.R., but I'm not sure what could account for them under the circumstances. They looked... almost like teeth marks."

"Like a dog attack? Maybe there was a dog in the truck he pulled over."

Martinez shook his head. Not unless the dog was big enough to fit his entire head in its mouth. The placement of the wounds is awkward. Multiple attempts to bite him during a struggle might explain it accept for two things."

"What would those be?"

"There were no other signs of struggle. His clothes aren't torn. There are no defensive wounds on his arms."

"And the second?"

"The teeth that left those wounds? They had to be a lot bigger than your standard German Shepherd or Rotwieler."

"So what was it?"

Martinez shook his head. "I don't know. Hopefully he'll be able to tell us when he wakes up."

"All right. I have to get back to the station. You can reach me there when he wakes up. In the meantime I'm recommending a full-course rabies treatment to be on the safe side." Satisfied that Dodd would recover, Valenti left the hospital and returned to the station to check on the status of the tape.

OOO

"The camera itself is a loss sir, but the tape was relatively undamaged. It just took time to extract it from the mess they made of the car."

"Can we watch it now?"

"It's ready sheriff." The technician led him to a small monitor in the Roswell Sheriff Department's rather Spartan crime lab. "The casing was damaged, and the tape itself had to be spliced in a place or two, but there was no other damage and the splices aren't at the relevant points." He pressed the 'play' button, having already cued it up to the proper point.

On screen, the monochrome image of Dodd approached the van. There was apparently no reaction to his initial calls and he placed his hand on the butt of his gun. The angle was wrong, but judging by his reaction, the window must have come down at that point. His tension lessened for a moment and then he pulled his weapon. Valenti wished he could see better what was going on.

Dodd never got the chance to use his gun. Something emerged from the driver's side window. Fast as a snake, Dodd was grabbed and pulled forward, his head and shoulders vanishing through the window while his feet kicked at the air. The gun had dropped to the ground, well out of reach. As they watched, Dodd's body suddenly stiffened and then went limp. He was shoved back through the window, already out cold when his head bounced off the asphalt.

"Back it up to the point where he was grabbed. I want to see if we can get a look at his attacker." The technician dutifully obeyed, and managed, after a couple of tries, to stop the image at the point where the attacker was most visible.

"I don't see his head," the man remarked, puzzled. "Unless his arm is three feet long..." he trailed off, not sure what to make of what he was seeing.

"It's the angle," Valenti responded. "We don't have a good view of the side of the van, just the back." The technician nodded, seeing no other explanation, and focused on the arm itself. It was thick, obviously well muscled, and it seemed to be wrapped in leather. The gloved hand at the end seemed enormous, although he suspected that that was also due to the bad angle and poor quality of the images.

The cameras in the squad cars were a recent addition and they were hardly top of the line. The image was clear enough though to show them the van, license plate and what had happened to Dodd. An APB was already out on the van, but now Valenti updated it, warning the officers looking for it that the people inside were known to be armed and dangerous. It was the best he could do, not being able to tell them that the driver was a demon of some sort.

He then called Liz on her cell phone. As quickly he could, he related the events of the past two hours to her. "It might be unrelated, but I doubt it. The van was registered to a man in Galinas. The authorities there have called his home, but gotten no answer. He could be away for the night or he could be unable to answer. Watch yourselves."

"We'll be careful." Liz ended the call and glanced at Spike and Michael, the only two who were with her at the moment. "We'll go alone to confirm it. The rest should stay in case something else turns up." With only 16 hours remaining until the conditions were optimal for the ritual, they didn't have a lot of time. The others nodded. Max wouldn't like being left out, she knew, but Isabel wouldn't mind. Alex, Maria, and Tess would do their part, Tess reluctantly, if they were needed.

Maria's much-abused Jetta was pressed into service and the three were off on the last known heading of the van only a couple of hours before sunrise. The immediate destination was Galinas. The town had few demons, fewer than Roswell, so there was little chance of gaining more information on that front, but the lead Valenti had provided was reasonably solid. They would check on the van's owner and then proceed from there.

Ybarra's home was actually several miles outside the thriving metropolis of Galinas, NM. His nearest neighbor was over a mile away and closer to town. The significance of the farm's isolation wasn't lost on any of them and they parked a few hundred yards beyond the edge of the property and hid the car as best they could. Michael stayed with the car, holding a walkie-talkie and ready to rush in and back them up or provide a quick escape if necessary.

He hadn't been happy with that, but Liz had pointed out that she and Spike were best at sneaking around and this was, ideally, a recon mission. He hadn't bought the logic entirely, but knew that someone had to stay with the car. If it was Liz, that meant he would have to work closely with Spike. The idea didn't appeal to him. The Jetta was also a consideration. Maria would kill him if she found out that Spike had been allowed to drive the precious vehicle. That left him in the driver's seat and Liz and Spike doing the sneaking.

It took them ten minutes of careful moving to reach the edge of the property nearest the farmhouse without anyone noticing, and there were people to notice. Liz spotted two demons of a type she didn't recognize moving through the open area that passed for a yard behind the house. She couldn't tell what they were doing, but she doubted it was farm chores.

Moving around the perimeter of the property, they got as close to the house as they could. The van was parked out of sight in the barn and there were lights on in the house. "Closer?" She asked in a voice that was barely a whisper, knowing he could hear her. Spike nodded.

They got to the house without being seen and Spike acted as a lookout while Liz started peeking in windows. She saw several demons in the house including two that matched the description of the Miquot demon that'd attacked Hawkins.

She didn't know which was Buriihesh, but it didn't matter. The scroll was there. Unfortunately so was an added difficulty. Hostages, Liz thought, staring at the man, woman, and small boy tied up in one corner of the living room. It was a relief to see them alive, but their presence leant a new urgency and complication to the situation.

She retreated, gesturing to Spike to follow. They returned to the car before she told him what she'd seen, wanting to brief Michael at the same time.

"So they've got the Ybarra family there. Not that I'm complaining, but why are they keeping them alive?"

"Hostages" Liz suggested.

"Sacrifices more like," Spike reasoned, knowing that the kind of power it would take to open a portal such as Liz had seen in her dream wouldn't come cheap. "Well, we found them. That's the important thing. We can deal with them now, but the Ybarras do add a new wrinkle." She frowned at the conclusion she'd just reached. "We're gonna need Tess."

OOO

"No."

"Tess-"

"No Max. You've got no business getting mixed up in this demon stuff, and I have no intention of getting involved. It's not our business. Don't we have enough troubles worrying about Skins and alien hunters?"

"We haven't heard from either in a while, and as long as we live here, anything that threatens this planet, or just this town, is our business. We're going. We could use your help, to cover with the Ybarra family, but it won't stop us from going if you refuse to help."

Tess was silent for a time, glancing from Max to Michael. The fact that Max' ultra-paranoid second-in-command was going along with this was a bad sign, but she had to try to reason with him. "You Michael? You'd risk exposing us to save three humans?"

"Yeah, but it's not just three humans. Liz told us what she saw-"

"In her dream?" Tess snorted. "Next you'll be risking our lives over a fortune cookie from Senior Chow's!"

"Slayer dreams are a proven fact," Michael shook his head. "We need to take this seriously. I don't like risking our secret either, but that's why we need you."

"This situation..."

"Hey! If you had warped Hawkins that first night we wouldn't be having the problems with him and the council that we are now!"

Tess didn't have an answer to that. She had berated herself for it after the fact, but things had gotten complicated so fast she couldn't be sure of making the warp stick, and they certainly didn't want him suddenly remembering what had happened a month down the line and coming back to investigate, probably with reinforcements. She sighed. The others were going to do this with or without her, and they really didn't need any more complications, not if she had any hope of turning things around. "All right. I'll do it."

That decided, they began making plans.

OOO

With practiced skill they moved toward the farmhouse in pairs, Max with Michael and Liz with Spike, taking cover where they could. Tess hung back near the car until they had dealt with the guards outside. They encountered only one demon, a male Miquot, walking the perimeter of the property. He went down without a sound.

It was a mixed crew. During their earlier recon, Liz had noted mostly Miquot, but their she had spotted four Rokesh, probably there as muscle, Max reasoned. The Rokesh were strong, but not particularly bright or brave. Max had identified the species for her, having run into them before.

They reached the farmhouse too quickly and easily for Liz' liking, and a quick survey revealed that the van was gone and there were only two Rokesh inside, guarding the Ybarra family. That meant that Buriihesh was gone with most of the demon cultists to make preparations. Only one Miquot and two Rokesh had been left behind on guard duty.

"Probably didn't want the clumsy buggers tripping over themselves and embarrassing the boss demon in front of his god," Spike smirked.

"He didn't trust them to do even a simple job alone though," Max picked up, "so he left one of his own here to supervise."

Spike nodded. That made sense. He glanced back toward the field where they'd left the 'supervisor.' "Outside's clear. Now we need to get those guys." Something occurred to him. "If they're supposed to be sacrifices why are they still here at all, instead of off with the others bein' all sacrificial?"

"Maybe you were wrong about that," Max shrugged. "Who cares?"

"Doesn't matter," Liz agreed. "We need to draw them out." She considered a moment and then gestured for the vampire to follow.

"I sense a plan. So, it somethin' violent, sneaky, or both?"

"I want to see if Tess can mindwarp a Rokesh." A glance at Michael sent his second-in-command back toward the jeep.

If the answer disappointed Spike, he didn't show it, and Max wasn't sure what to make of that. He knew the vampire would happily crash through the window and kill the Rokesh with his bare hands no matter the risk to the family, just for the rush, the thrill of it. Fortunately, the vampire lacked an invitation. In order to get his hands dirty, he'd have to lure them outside.

He constantly had to remind himself that the vampire was smarter than he acted, and that, despite his work with Liz and the pod squad, he was not really one of the good guys. The chip in his head kept him on a leash. He was playing at being a hero, nothing more.

These were thoughts he hesitated to bring up with Liz, knowing that she wouldn't appreciate them. He knew he would have to speak to her soon though, remind her that, however useful he'd been, however much she relied on him, he was still a demon. No soul. No conscience.

Glancing at the subject of his ruminations, he was startled to find a serious look on the vampire's face. Instead of a broad grin that bespoke anticipation of bloodletting, he actually looked pensive, as if he was concentrating on something.

"What's on your mind?"

"Taking them alive. We need to you know? Someone's got to tell us where Buriihesh and his merry band got to." Max nodded.

This was where Tess came in. He turned to her as she arrived with Michael. "Can you lure them out?"

"I think so. Assuming my mindwarp works on them." She concentrated.

For a moment, nothing happened, then one of the demons looked up and towards the door. It spoke in a gravelly voice to its companion. The precise words didn't carry beyond the room, but both cast a warning look at their prisoners and headed for the front door.

Spike and Liz moved quickly to intercept them as they came outside. They ran out, passing Liz and Spike without even seeing them. Stopping at the edge of the porch, the demons scanned the front yard and then the road beyond in confusion. They never saw the vampire and Slayer coming.

By the time their guest awoke, the hostages were asleep in their own beds, all memory of their ordeal carefully altered. As far as they knew, they had all spent the last few days recovering from a nasty flu bug.

Neither of the Rokesh showed any inclination to cooperate with them. Their resolve didn't last long though. Max remembered that the Rokesh were, despite their size, essentially cowards. Spike made some impressive threats, and they agreed to trade their lives for the information Liz needed.

"You realize that I will kill you if you've lied to me right?" Liz asked. They nodded. "And that if I don't your boss will for failing less than an hour after he left?" Again they nodded. "It really is in your best interests then to tell me the truth." They assured her that they were. "Good. Can't risk you changing your minds and telling your boss about us, so you get to come along."

The two demons weren't happy about that, but Liz didn't leave them a choice. They no doubt thought about trying to escape, but Max and Michael used their powers to secure them in the back of an old pickup they found in the barn, causing the bare metal of the bed and sides to wrap around their arms and legs ensuring that they had no room to move and no leverage. Spike said it should be sufficient to hold them despite their strength.

That done, the Slayer, vampire, and aliens set to planning their next move in peace. "Okay, we know where they are, and we know how many there are," Liz summarized. "It's pretty rough country out there. We should be able to get pretty close without being spotted." The others nodded and Michael, never one to waste time, turned and headed for the jeep Max and Tess had arrived in.

"Lets do it then."

OOO

The directions were accurate, and they parked half-a-mile from the site described by the unwilling guests in the back of the truck. The jeep was parked behind a low rise not far away, hopefully out of sight. The truck was harder to hind, but they found a shallow gully to park in.

Liz and Spike quickly armed themselves, as did Max and Michael, though they were far from expert with the sword and axe they chose. Tess declined to take anything, as she had no intention of getting anywhere near the battle.

The proceedings were well underway when they made their way to a vantage point at the edge of a relatively flat, clear piece of land where the demon cultists had set up. Liz counted nearly 20 of them, mostly Miquot.

"I think I see the scroll." He passed the binoculars to Liz and she nodded in confirmation. "Looks like they're playing in the sand," Michael observed as Liz scanned the scene and then passed on the binoculars.

"Patterns," Max nodded after a look. "Probably something mystical for the ritual."

"Chicken scratches," Spike muttered, passing on the binoculars, as his vision was much better than theirs. "Bet they need 'em though." He glanced at Max. "When we were trainin' a while back you used your powers to kick up a wind in the warehouse. Think you can do it now, mess up their marks?"

Max nodded. "I think so, if Michael and Tess help. They're a lot farther away." As one, the three aliens raised their hands and concentrated. There was a slight stirring from the demons, but nothing visible to the naked eye was happening to the ground. It must have worked though, as several of the demons moved to begin scratching in the dirt again while others tried to form a windbreak.

Spike tapped Liz on the shoulder. " Come on. Let's look around while they do that." Liz nodded and they slipped away around the perimeter.

It didn't take them long to realize that no guards had been posted. All of the cult apparently busy with the preparations for the ritual. Some were busy trying to repair the damage done to the drawings, some were busy preparing an intricate looking arrangement of logs for the pyre, and some were busy at more arcane tasks Liz couldn't guess at.

"How do we do this?" Liz asked in a low voice. "These are not good odds and they aren't gonna miss their deadline cause of a few distractions."

"Seen longer odds pet," Spike reminded her. Liz shuddered. That was one night she was trying to forget. "We need to split 'em up, make smaller, easier to handle groups."

"A distraction, or several, hmm." She looked around and spotted the van. "Can you get that started?"

"Hotwire ya mean? Sure." He suddenly grinned. "Drive right through the middle the way Mikey did with the Skins. Yeah, that oughta get their attention, but I'll need a distraction to get in there."

"Can I borrow your lighter?" Spike raised an enquiring eyebrow.

OOO

The demons had noticed that the wind was curiously intermittent and that it came from only one direction. Max, Michael, and Tess found themselves falling back before a group of suspicious demons on their way to investigate the phenomenon.

Max was fairly sure they hadn't been detected, but he saw no reason to put himself and the other at risk yet. The demons were moving quickly, but, by their behavior, they weren't expecting trouble. The idea had been to divert them, to delay them; no contingency had been made for the demons trying to chase the 'wind' that was causing their problems.

"We were gonna have to fight sooner or later Maxwell," Michael reminded. "At least there are only four of them. We can take them. Tess can you hide us? Wait for a good time for an ambush?" Tess frowned, decidedly unhappy about being dragged into the fight, then nodded.

"Take positions then," Max picked up his second-in-command's chain of thought. "Behind those rocks should do fine. Spread out. We'll hit them from three sides."

Spike was as close as he could get to the van without revealing himself when he saw the four demons moving toward the aliens' position. Cursing under his breath he started to move to assist when a commotion from the camp drew his attention. They had turned to focus on a moving light on the other side of the area they had cleared. It was an oddly flickering green that lasted a few seconds at one spot before vanishing and reappearing in another. Spike frowned, wondering how Liz had managed that.

It seemed to work though. Three demons were dispatched to investigate the strange moving light. The four moving toward the rocks where Max, Michael, and Tess hid had paused at the disturbance and almost turned back as the wind had died, but then it suddenly picked up again, stronger, obliterating part of the design those still preparing the ritual were trying to make.

Spike grinned at the demons' reaction. How thick can you get? Spike wondered as he watched them scramble about like ants whose mound had been kicked. As evil cults bent on ending the world went, he reflected, this lot was pretty pathetic.

Returning to his own mission, Spike snuck toward the van and opened it as quietly as he could. He managed to avoid being noticed but knew that would change as soon as he started the engine.

Just before he crossed the final wires he looked up to take in the situation. Three of the demons were approaching the strange green light that he knew marked Liz' position and four more were almost on top of the aliens.

The van's engine came to life with a roar. Spike settled himself in the driver's seat, shifted into drive, and stomped on the gas.

All of them heard the engine roar to life. The three approaching Liz turned to stare at the van and never saw Liz coming. The Katana she had chosen cut through them easily. Only one managed to dodge her first swing and throw his own weapon, one of the bone knives she had been warned about. Liz batted it away with her blade and killed him before he could ready another.

They weren't in ideal position, but when the search party turned at the sound of the engine, Max knew they wouldn't get a better shot. At his shouted signal, all three struck at once and the demons went flying.

The van plowed through the center of the ritual area that Buriihesh and his followers had prepared. In the process he ran down two of the demons and clipped three others. Unfortunately those who survived seemed to have excellent aim. Spike heard the rear tires blow within seconds of each other, sending the van skidding out of control.

Spike was a skilled driver, having had years of practice, but when one of the Miquot bone knives shattered the drivers' side window and buried itself in his throat, he found it difficult to maintain control. The van spun out, scattering the carefully arranged logs for the fire they had prepared and once more destroying the painstakingly drawn symbols in the dirt around the perimeter of the fire.

Spike yanked the blade from his neck, cursing inventively even as a group of Miquot demons surrounded the vehicle. Picking up his weapon of choice, an old style broadsword on this occasion, he kicked open the drivers' side door and erupted through the tinted windshield. Body checking one of the demons to the ground he rolled off and swung his blade back, catching the Miquot across the throat before it could rise.

Suddenly Liz was there, moving effortlessly through their ranks. The demons were getting themselves organized and the two started to have a harder time of it. One demon hung back a bit, barking orders and trying to organize the others. That must be Buriihesh, Liz realized, but she was too hard pressed to go after him. Even the arrival of Max and Michael didn't take much pressure off as she ducked and leaped, kicked and slashed her way through her enemies.

This hadn't been quite what they had planned, but it seemed to be working. All four of them were still on their feet and the number of demons was gradually shrinking. The bone knives made for dangerous weapons, but between Max' shield, Liz' speed and agility, and Spike's vampiric nature the two groups were fairly matched. When Liz saw some of the Miquot targeting each other, she knew that Tess was doing her part as well.

Confusing them probably was the best way Tess could help, and Liz was surprised that she was doing that much. The odds were gradually changing in their favor, but not fast enough for Liz' liking.

Tess watched from cover in frustration. There had to be more she could do. Max was risking his life for nothing! They could be gone by now, off the stupid planet if they had just listened to her. She got a grip on frustration with an effort. That line of thoughts was unproductive at best. Maybe she could do more. Mindwarping them one at a time, tricking them into attacking each other, was too slow. She began to concentrate, marshaling her energies.

Liz was fighting Buriihesh himself, the instigator of all of this, and she wasn't doing well. The Miquot was fast and strong, and very determined. He fought with a fanatical gleam in his eye ranting about purification. Liz missed most of the rant, ignored his words in favor of his actions. At the moment, he was entirely focused on killing her. That suddenly changed.

Jumping clear of their fight, Buriihesh shouted to his followers, who turned toward the place Liz knew Tess to be hiding. The shouts of alarm and general rush to be elsewhere were a welcome if confusing development. Liz risked a glance at Tess hiding place, but didn't see anything to justify the sudden panic. Then the rearmost of the fleeing demons caught fire. It screamed and collapsed, thrashing wildly, on the ground. The rest moved faster, but whatever they were fleeing quickly overtook them, and in a matter of moments all that remained of the demon cultists were smoldering corpses.

"Um..., what just happened?" Michael asked, still holding his axe above his head, ready to strike at an opponent that was no longer there.

OOO

"So I thought if they saw a big fire coming their way they'd all run, or at least be distracted long enough to give us a better chance." Tess stared at the sidewalk in front of her, but that was a lot more than a mindwarp. I-I touched some thing deeper. I'm not sure what it is Max, but it scares me."

Max frowned thoughtfully. "We're all still learning our limits. All we can do is try to be careful, and be there for each other. You might want to talk to Michael. Something similar happened to him in Sunnydale, though he doesn't like to talk about it."

"I can understand that," Tess shuddered. "Is that why he got on that big training kick a while back?" Max nodded, and Tess let out a low whistle.

"So that's what it takes to motivate Guerin." She noted Max' disapproving look and shrugged. "I guess we should compare notes. Maybe together we can get a handle on this thing."

Max didn't respond, but he did walk her back to Valenti's home. The show of support meant more to her than she was willing to say. Max knew she didn't want to be alone and didn't let her down, nor did he call her on what she knew she would have seen as a weakness in another.

OOO

"The scroll was destroyed," Liz reported to the old Kwaini woman. "I'm sorry."

"Do not be. I think it is for the best. You prevented the Prophecy's fulfillment."

"It wouldn't have been necessary if-" The old woman shook her head.

"No self-recrimination child, and do not judge the Council too harshly. We all do what we believe is best, and we all make mistakes."

"Maybe, but I think it's gonna be a while before I trust Hawkins again in anything."

Me'aln frowned thoughtfully. "Perhaps that too is for the best... Perhaps."

NOT THE END