Chapter 15

Los Angeles25 June 2004

Angel did have a guest for the full moon. He rang after he'd spoken to Nina. He even thanked me for 'knocking some sense into him'. It turns out that she'd been on the verge of leaving town completely, having some idea of living in the wilds somewhere so she wouldn't hurt anyone. Angel knows as well as I do that that wouldn't have helped. Werewolves can cover a lot of distance quickly, and empty as parts of this country are, you don't have to go that far to find people.

I've seen him a couple of times this past couple of weeks too, and he's looking better. I don't know if he finally told Nina the whole story, and I get the impression that, for now at least, their relationship has gone back to largely professional, but to be honest, I think Angel needs a romantic relationship about as much as I do right now.

In other news, well, I've been wrapped up getting the apartment ready for Dawn coming back. I've got her set up to start her senior year at a local school, and she seems excited at the prospect.

Because of that, I missed the early clues. And when I did realise that something was wrong, I had no idea of the scope of the problem. I did spot that Giles was worried about something, but then it became all but impossible to talk to him so I didn't get the chance to push him on what was going on. Neville told me that it couldn't be important or Giles would have told me, but I knew better.

So, when I got the call early this morning, I knew it was bad news. Apparently, there are no Slayers left in the UK. Every one of them has been abducted and either returned without their powers or is still missing - forty-something girls and women. The scope of that's bad enough, but there was worse to come. It looks like whoever-it-is has moved across the Atlantic, and is gradually working their way across the US.

"And why am I only hearing this now? Surely you should have called as soon as you knew what was happening?"

"Buffy, well, at first, I thought it was an isolated incident. And then, when it wasn't, I was concerned that making the situation public would just encourage someone to take advantage of the situation."

"So what's changed?"

"What's changed is the fact that there's no way we can keep this quiet now. Slayers are disappearing faster than ever, and we still have no idea of what's behind it."

"Ok, so tell me the whole story," I suggest.

"I've already arranged for a courier to deliver the full report to you. They should be with you by tomorrow morning. In the meantime, I suggest that you just take special care."

"So, how's it happening? What sort of precautions do I need?"

"Well, that's the problem. To be honest, I don't know. The first few to disappear did so when apparently alone. There was some evidence of Fyarl demon involvement in a couple of cases. However, as the rate of abduction has accelerated, the method of abduction has changed. I arranged for several active Slayers to remain together with their Watchers as a precaution. All five girls just disappeared, despite their Watchers'presence.They believe that the girls were teleported away, but we've been unable to trace a destination."

"Teleportation? Surely there's something you can do about that? Willow …"

"… is already with the Coven working on just that. They're trying to find a way to block further teleportations, but so far, they've come up with nothing."

"And the girls come back without their powers?"

"And without any memory of what happened. Our best guess is that someone has found a way to harness that power in some other way. Again, the Coven is working on possible mechanisms, but so far, nothing."

"Look, how about I come over and …"

"No. I was serious when I said that I don't want Slayers involved in this investigation. I've already got people working on this – Watchers mainly, and I've got to trust that they'll find something."

"But …"

"No, Buffy. I mean it. At the rate it's going, you'll only be safe in California for a month or so – less if the rate increases again."

I decide not to argue any more. I know I won't change his mind, but that doesn't mean that I've changed mine.

"Buffy," Giles interrupts my thoughts.

"Yes?"

"I've got a lot of other calls to make. I'll keep you up to date, and I know that I don't need to ask that you read the full report and see if it doesn't spark anything for you or Neville."

"Research Girl, that's me," I quip, but somehow it's not a quippy voice. This is serious, and it feels personal. I didn't go and share my power with all those other girls just so it would be taken from them. I hang up then give Neville the bits he missed. He's just got to the shocked, open-mouthed stage when my phone rings again.

The woman on the other end isn't American, and she's not English either, but it's an old voice, and there's something about it that convinces me she's not selling anything.

"Miss Summers, you don't know me. My name is Moira McConnechie. My husband worked for the Council of Watchers for many years."

"You're not English," I say, still wondering at the accent. It reminds me of something, but it's not Giles or Spike.

"You're quite right, my dear. I'm a Scot and proud of it. However, there have always been people from all over Britain in the Council's employ."

"Oh," I mumble. I'm just musing on where I might have heard that accent when I realise that she's still talking.

"I'm sorry," I apologise. "I missed that."

"Interference on the line, I expect," she says. "As I was saying, for many years, there has been an annual memorial service for the Council. It's a religious service that's held in London where we remember those members of the Council who have been killed in the line of duty. There was no service last year - the first time in over two hundred years - but given the situation of the Council at the time, and the many individual funerals being held, that was hardly surprising."

"I see," I say, not seeing anything at all.

"I spoke to Mr. Rupert Giles some weeks ago, and he agreed that I should organise this year's service. I'm calling to ask if you will attend. We know that our great loss last year was due to forces that you were personally more than instrumental in defeating. It would mean a great deal to many survivors and the families of those who died if you could."

"I … I'm not sure. I mean, I'm not religious. I'm not even sure I believe in … God."

"I can assure you that that is unimportant. Many in the Council follow no particular faith, and others follow faiths which, well, let's just say are considered more crackpotthan real by most of society."

"But …"

"Please, don't answer now. Think about it. The service will be held on 1st July in West Kensington Parish church at three in the afternoon. As a guest of the Council, all your expenses will be paid out of my organising budget. I'll arrange a hotel in Kensington, or elsewhere in London if you have a preference."

Something occurs to me then. It just seems like rather too much of a coincidence that I've just had a call from Giles that makes me want to visit him, and then I get just such an invitation.

"Tell me, does Mr. Giles know you've invited me?"

"No, my dear, no. Mr. Giles is much too busy to concern himself with such matters. He will, of course, attend, and he will say a few words, but he is content to leave the actual details to me."

"I see." I'm looking at the date on my calendar, and then I realise that Dawn's due back here on the third. "Ah, I'll have to decline, I think. My sister is flying back from Rome on the third, and I have to be in LA then."

"Ah, your sister. Yes, Rupert has mentioned her. How is she?"

"Fine, I think."

"But young to be travelling so far alone."

"I suppose so, but …"

"But don't you see? This is perfect. If you come to London, then perhaps you can arrange for her to join you there, and then you can travel back together. Perhaps I can even introduce you to Scotland while you're here. It would be an honour to have you as my guests."

"I don't know. It's …" I almost say tempting because it is. It's a chance to find out everything I can about the original disappearances. Once I've read the full report, I'll know exactly where to look when I get there. But I decide to be cautious for now, saying, "Well, I'll think about it and let you know."

"Splendid, my dear. I'll just give you my phone number."

She does that, and I scribble it on the pad on my desk. The pencil comes up and the end goes into my mouth almost without any conscious effort on my part as soon as I've hung up.

"You look thoughtful," Neville comments from his desk across the room.

"Mmm," I agree. "Tell me, you've been working for the Council for a while. What do you know about an annual memorial service for Council members?"

"That? Oh, that's a very old tradition. A lot of people were very upset that it was cancelled last year. There were good reasons - I mean, the headquarters had been destroyed, and many Watchers killed. The whole organisation was in chaos. If it hadn't been for Rupert Giles … and the rest of you, of course, the Council would have been a spent force. Why do you ask?"

"I've just been invited to attend."

"Oh, I'm glad it's back this year. I doubt I'll be allowed to fly back for it, of course, but … I wonder. Who's organising it this year? It always used to be Quentin Travers' PA."

"It's a … Moira McConnechie," I answer, my tongue trying to mimic the way she said the name, but I know I'll never master that 'ch' sound she made.

"Moira McConnechie?" His 'ch' isn't much better than mine. "Well, that's …"

"That's what?"

"I've heard tales of her - mainly from my father. Her husband - Duncan - he was a major force in some areas of the Council when my dad was a young Watcher. He was very respected - especially among the field operatives - more so than the likes of Travers, because he seemed to be more in touch with the real world. He liked the trappings of tradition as much as anyone, but he wasn't afraid to throw such things out if he felt they were in the way. He never made it to the most senior positions in the Council. My dad reckoned it was because he wouldn't kowtowto history for the sake of it. They used him, though. His wife - Moira - well, there were rumours that she used … magic, and at that time, such things were not considered entirely respectable. Some of those who wanted him held back claimed that she controlled her husband with it, but … when the Council needed her help, she was there. She set up the initial contacts with the Coven in Devon that Giles knows. To us youngsters, she was a figure of terror. Not quite 'If you don't behave, she'll turn you into a toad,' but not far off. I've never met her, but my dad, well, let's just say he wasn't sure whether she was more saint than terror, but he had a lot of respect for her."

That's quite a history. "Why would she be organising the service? I mean, she sounded quite … old."

"Well, she's no youngster, although I think she was younger than her husband, but she's also a force of nature. My guess? She's bullied Giles into giving the job to her. Duncan McConnechie was a major figure in Giles' early days as a Watcher. There were suggestions that the reason Giles didn't get on faster within the Council was that he had been too close to Duncan. Then again, Quentin Travers didn't need reasons for keeping some people down."

He watches me as I take all that in. "So, are you going?" he asks at last.

"I don't know. I'm tempted … especially since these Slayer disappearances started over there."

"They may have started over there, but they're happening over here now. Maybe you'd learn more staying here."

"Somehow that smacks of just waiting for the inevitable. Not my style at all. I've got to do something, and maybe this is my chance."

"Giles probably wouldn't be happy if you went."

"True, but then Giles probably wouldn't be happy if I went to take a look at the most recent disappearances either. In some respects, if whoever it is thinks they've cleared all the Slayers out of England, then maybe that's the safest place I could be."

"Up to you. But if Giles should ask, I didn't know what you were planning."

I grin at that. "Ok. I'll remember that."

When I get home, I check out the possibilities. Later, when I know she'll be up, I call Dawn to see what she thinks. To my surprise, she seems pleased. I had thought that suggesting that we do the transatlantic leg together might be seen as 'fussing' over her, but the prospect of spending a couple of days in London, or even travelling around the UK seem to be welcome. Fortunately, her ticket can be changed, and I make up my mind to arrange all that as soon as I've had a chance to speak to Moira again.

The more I think about it, the better I like the sound of going to England. If it all started there, then maybe there's a clue to what's going on. And anyway, if this team Giles has working on it already was up to the mark, then we'd have that information already. I can just imagine them - typical Watchers every one. Probably wouldn't know a vampire if one jumped up and bit them.