Faith resisted the urge to light another cigarette. She only had the two left, and Kennedy would want one after the patrol that night. Speaking of Kennedy, where was the girl? She should have been back already.
Faith glanced at her watch. 8:00 pm. There was no way Kennedy shouldn't be back.
Faith pulled out her cell phone and began to dial Kennedy's cell phone number. "Hi, this is Kennedy," her recorded voice recited aftter the recquisite number of rings. "I can't take your call right now, but if you leave a message—"
Faith hung up. With a sigh, she began pushing the buttons to call the Council's Brazil HQ.
Earlier. . . .
The vampires standing guard didn't even try to stop Kennedy from entering the warehouse. Whether it was because they didn't care or because they recognized her for a Slayer, she didn't know. She didn't care.
"Quero encontrar a Sombra," she said to one of the vamps, certain that her Portugese was ungrammatical. He just grunted and gestured with his head down the hall. Kennedy made her way down the hall, kicking in the door at the end of it. Always make a strong entrance.
"Ah, Slayer," said a woman who had been reclining on a large chair suspiciously resembling a throne. She was draped in diaphanous black silk. "You honor us with your presence."
"You're the Shadow?"
"I am indeed," the woman said, getting up from her chair. "And do you have a name as well, or should I simply continue to just call you 'Slayer'?"
Kennedy helped up the macaw-hilted knife she had gotten from the vamp in the alley. "Where did you find this?"
"Oh, I see you have brought me my knife," the Shadow said. "How kind of you."
"You think I'm going to just give you this and walk away?" asked Kennedy with a laugh.
"Oh, no," said the Shadow. "I wouldn't dream of letting you walk away."
It was then that Kennedy noticed the thirty-something vamps that had surrounded her. Oops.
Now. . . .
"Kennedy wouldn't do that," one of the two Brazilian Slayers the Council had sent over said. "Kennedy trained us, years ago. She knows better than to attempt anything on her own."
"Do you know the English saying 'Do I as say, not as I do'?" Faith asked. When the Slayer just stared at her blankly, she continued, "Apparently you don't know Kennedy as well as you thought you did. She's not in the best of places right now."
"We know she is not in the best of places," the other Slayer said. "That is why you called us, no?"
Damn the language barrier. Maybe she was better off stationed in Cleveland all those years. At least there everyone understood even idiomatic English. (And yeah, being on the faculty of a high school, even just as the P.E. teacher, had helped her pick up words like "idiomatic.")
""No, I don't just mean that Kennedy's in trouble," said Faith. "I mean that coming back to Brazil has upset her. She's not thinking clearly. We can't trust her to do the smart thing."
"How do we find her?" asked a Slayer. Faith supposed she should learn which was which, but right now she couldn't care less. All she cared about was getting Kennedy back.
Faith sat back in her chair. "We're going to look up an old friend who just happens to be in town."
Kennedy woke up in her bedroom, reassured by the familiar sights, smells, feels—until she remembered she didn't have a bedroom, hadn't had one for years. She was a wondering Slayer, moving from one mission, never putting down roots—
And now she was back in Sao Paulo, in the master bedroom of the house she had shared with Willow for five years. On the bed she had shared with Willow, her legs and arms tied to the bedposts, surrounded by vampires.
This was not a good thing.
The Shadow slipped to the front of the crowd. "Good," she said. "You're awake. We can start."
"What do you want from me?" asked Kennedy, struggling against her bonds and finding them firm. "Why did you bring me here?"
The Shadow picked up the macaw-hilted knife from and hung it on the wall where it had hung so many years ago. Everything was set up exactly as it had been seven years ago. What was this?
"I only want one thing from you, little Slayer," said the Shadow. "I want your pain." She turned to a vampire next to her. "Are all the circles set?"
"Yes, your irreverence," the vampire answered.
"Good," she said. "You can begin the ceremony." She smiled as she took a look at the weapons on the wall. "The Slayer who lived here certainly had quite a collection. So many beautiful weapons, able to cause such wonderful pain."
Behind her, the vampires began to chant. In Latin, Kennedy thought, uncertain.
"But I think it would be best if we started small, don't you?" The Shadow put a hand on Kennedy's shirt and pulled it up, revealing the skin covering her abdomen. Then she pulled out what Kennedy recognized as her old Swiss Army Knife, and began to make shallow cuts into the flesh.
"Faith, mia cara," the Immortal said. "You're as beautiful as ever."
Yeah, right. The Immortal was a champion flatterer, but Faith knew that not even a Slayer could go a decade without aging. Especially not a Slayer. Faith remembered the degree to which the years had taken their toll on Buffy right before she died. Only the Immortal was able to go through the years looking as young as ever. Well, the Immortal, and vampires, and some demons, and--well, the point was the list didn't include Slayers.
"Spare me the sweet talk."
The Immortal looked pained. "You wrong me, Faith."
"Yeah, sure. What are you doing in South America, anyway?"
"I have business to conduct here," the Immortal answered. "Now tell me, how is Madelyn?"
Well, at least he remembered to ask. "She's fine," Faith said. "No thanks to you."
The Immortal said nothing, betrayed no emotion. "Well, how can I help you, Faith?"
"I know you have contacts," Faith said. "Hell, you're probably here to meet with the Shadow yourself. I need to know how to get to him, how to get Kennedy back."
"You have your misplaced your love, eh? Well, let it never be said I failed to help someone in the name of love."
"Just tell me what I need and I'll get out of your hair. Neither of us wants to prolong this any longer than we have to."
The Immortal leveled a long stare at Faith. "Do you even know what l'Ombra wants, young one?"