Ashes to Ashes
First in a Series
Chapter Four: Suspicions on the Rise
By Shelley L. Inks
Leave a Werewolf and a Vampire alone under any different circumstances..Hell, under these ones when one or the other was decidedly cranky and you'd receive a gory wrestling match worthy of worldwide screening,Onyx mused as she watched the nightstalker with cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass looking out the window again on his seemingly endless vigil. The backside view was not altogether unpleasant but his pacing was setting her nerves on end and besides that pointless since they hadn't heard the roar of motorcycles in more than two hours.
Left alone with him as he had finally convinced the young Dawn to occupy herself with the robot cleaning her up somewhat, a tense silence had fallen in the dark living room. And she had never been good with silence unless she was trying to sleep or alone. Trusting her instinctively sharp tongue to guide her she abruptly blurted out,"What kind of name is Spike anyway? Sounds like the neighbor's chihuahua."
He stiffened and turned to her abruptly, glaring,"Wot kind of name is Onyx then? Eh? Sounds like.." he trailed off, too anxious to fire back his normal witty retort and fumbled for a moment before coming up with,"A bloody wood Elf or something."
"I do have the pointy ears," she replied cheerfully, completely unfazed. Being up all night had a rejuvenating effect on her until at least noon the next day. Then she knew she'd be likey to crash and sleep for five or six hours. Right now however she was annoyingly perky. He snorted, ignoring her as he turned his black leather clad back to her again. She took the oppotunity to admire the peroxide bleached hair which cast a ghostly halo in the dimness. It was disheveled, dark roots showing, eyes focused but tired, his face a sharp contrast of stark white in the flickering lights of the last dying fire across the street. She had the distinct feeling he was close to coming unhinged. That could be an issue later. Not that she intended to stick around and find out.
She tucked her legs up against her chest and curled her arms around them.Unable to allow the silence to linger she spoke up again,"Has anyone told you you sort of look like an adult Draco Malfoy?"
"I do no...WHO?" he turned, his brow furrowed at her in a mix of annoyance and perplextion. Before the arguement could progress both sat up straight, sniffing. "Someone's coming.."
"I smell it too.." she replied softly, her mental hackles raised. The sickly thick scent of blood grew stronger, mixed with sweat, adrenaline, and a faint undercurrent of something less easy to name and much fouler. It was like trying to describe the smell of a child abuser or a serial rapist or even a terrorist. A combination of madness, fear, snake venom, decay, and rotten eggs. She could no sooner have explained the color red to a blind man than put that smell into words but it was there, though undetectible to the Human nose.
Soon the voices accompanying the stench were with in the range of normal hearing, four of them at least, mostly female. Her head hunched down slightly to the level of her shoulders as the doorknob started to turn. Spike snatched up a heavy iron table lamp base and crossed the room to the foyer, holding it at ready like a club. Only Vampiric lightning reflexes saved Xander from a nasty bump on the head as the young man entered and flicked on a light switch. He recoiled, giving the Vampire a surprised look that quickly faded to disgust.
"Geez, lurk much?"
"Oh, it's you," Spike lowered the lamp, returning the dark-haired boy's look of distaste with a elegant curl of his lip that ended somewhere between a sneer and a snarl. He offered a curt nod to Willow and Tara as they entered, Anya trailing behind. The three girls featured a variety of nervous gestures, wringing their hands, toying with their hair, and averting their eyes to take in the already familiar scenery.
"Yah it's us. Which means you can leave now," An edge crept into Xander's tone, more eager to have the Vampire off the premise than usual. He hadn't even noticed their company as of yet.
"Not so fast, Nancy. Since when d'you think I take order from yer likes? I could rip your head off one-handed and drink from your brain stem..." he glared, the two men locked eye to eye in a fierce testosterone charged clash of wills.
"Spike..."Willow began, trying to clue him in.
"Would that be after you collapse on the ground holding your head and screaming like a little girl?" Xander taunted
"You poncey lil'..."
"SPIKE!" Willow snapped more loudly, gesturing behind her to a well-known figure framed in the doorway. Her hair disheveled, black coffin dress caked with clods of dirt and blood, the Slayer watched the confrontation solemnly without uttering a word. She glanced up and met Spike's azure gaze without blinking then looked away from him without interest.
The bleached blond gave a dismissive snort,"Yeah? I've seen the bloody bot before. Didn't think she'd patch up so.." He froze, his mouth still slightly agap just as the door behind him opened and Dawn reentered with the Buffybot in tow. Disbelief filled his face as he looked from the copy to the original. Dawn grasp his arm, digging her fingers till they drew blood through his coat but he failed to notice. "Slayer..?" he croaked out hoarsely.
"Buffy..?" Dawn gasped then suddenly shoved past the other Scoobies and embraced her sister,"BUFFY!" Excited voices mixed and mingled all at once. Buffy stood stiffly, looking straight ahead, Dawn's sobbing form clinging to her, before she slowly seemed to remember the gesture require a response and lifted her arms gradually as if they were too heavy. One rested calmly across Dawn's back, the other patting her shoulders disinterestedly as she ignored the the barrage of questions. Only Spike, Onyx, and a vaguely dejected looking Buffybot stood back.
The Vampire watched, his sickened look returning as they pestered her with trivial queries then Willow was forced to explain the spell she'd used to bring the Slayer back. He edged around the group as the discussion continued.
"We didn't think it worked, but..."
"Is she going to be okay?"
"I'm gonna be fine. I remember. You brought me back."
No one noticed when Spike slipped out the front door. No one but Onyx, that is, who waited for the group to move into the living room then left as unnoticed as a shadow. She shut the door of the Summer's house behind her, crossing the porch and decending the stairs. Predawn hours brought forth the call of innocent tiny songbirds hidden somewhere in the nearby foilage, unaware of the disaster that had fallen on the town. She winced slightly at the shrill chirps. Her ears perked slightly at another unpleasant sound, that of someone crying. Night eyes trailed across the lawn and picked out Spike leaning against a tree, his back to her. His shoulders trembled softly with faint, muffled sobs. Sympathy welled in her, coaxing her to open her mouth though she hadn't the faintest clue what to say that would ease his troubled heart as she didn't fully understand his plight.
Behind her, the door's hinges creaked again as the dark-haired youth and his girlfriend emerged, still talking.
"I think Willow's wrong. I don't think she's particularly normal at all," the girl stated.
"Well, she just got back. Give it time. I bet in a week she'll be our little Bufferin again..."
"Oh yes, cause six or seven days, that's all you really need to get over eternal Hell experiences," she replied somewhat sarcastically, neither taking notice of Onyx who had stepped off the porch and was cloaked in shadows.Suddenly the boy looked off to his left, hearing the soft sobs.
"Who's that? Spike?"
The Vampire stiffened and abruptly straightened up, lifting one hand to wipe his eyes roughly. Passing the Werewolf without seeing her, Xander and Anya approached Spike
"What are you doing out here? I hope you're not going to start your little obsession now that she's around again..." Xander collmented callously with more than a hint of puffed up bravardo. Without warning Spike spun around and grabbed Xander by his shirt, slamming him violently up against the tree trunk and pinning him there. Hostility wafted of him and he seemed ready to explode into game-face and rip the young man's throat out.
"Hey!" Anya protested.
"You didn't tell me. You brought her back and you didn't tell me..." the bleached blond accused, his voice a mixture of threat, dismay, confusion and betrayel. He bit down on his lip so hard the salty taste of his own blood filled his mouth as he accused the Human with his eyes. Xander held his gaze for a moment then dropped it. Perhaps feeling guilty. You could never be sure these days. So few people felt remorse for the suffering of others. Yet here they were, mortal, well, supernatural enemies from before recorded time and Onyx felt a deep pity welling in her for the Vampire.
"Well, now you know,"Xander muttered gruffly without a hint of apology. Unable to stiffle her contempt for the callous young man Onyx slipped away before she interfered in manners that didn't concern her. She had ideas of her own about the Slayer, ones no doubt the Scoobies would not care to hear. But once her suspicions were arroused it was as throwing gasoline on a flame.
"I worked beside you all summer,"Spike stammered, still trying to wrap his mind around the facts. Buffy was back. Alive. They hadn't told him. A spell. A spell that could have gone wrong. Tampering with black magic was always dangerous and ressurection spells were all but impossible even for the most gifted witches and warlocks. He could have told them that. Giles would have if they'd clued him in, but ofcourse they'd excluded the Watcher as well. Because he would have known better. He would have stopped them. Damn them. Damn them all. Foolish, arrogant children.
"We didn't tell you. It was just ... we didn't, okay?"
Spike stared at Xander for a moment longer then released his grip on him but the boy didn't move away. He remained in close proximaty, glaring at the other man,"Listen. I've figured it out," Spike growled out angrily," Maybe you haven't, but I have." Tears still welled in his eyes but he refused to let them spill over. he pointed sharply at the house,"Willow knew there was a chance that she'd come back wrong. So wrong that you'd have ... that she would have to get rid of what came back. And I wouldn't let her. If any part of that was Buffy, I wouldn't let her. And that's why she shut me out."
"What are you talking about? Willow wouldn't do that."
"Oh. Is that right?" he demanded sarcastically.
"Look," Xander snapped as Spike scoffed,"You're just covering. Don't tell me you're not happy. Look me in the eyes, and tell me when you saw Buffy alive, that wasn't the happiest moment of your entire existence."
Spike shot Xander a "you just don't get it" scowl, before he stormed off, his trench coat fluttering behind him. He paused on the sidewalk, his back to them as he snarled out," That's the thing about magic. There's always consequences. Always!"
Onyx wrinkled her nose as she stepped into the parking lot, the dying fires in the burn barrels casting an orange tinted smoke into the air. It was just before sun up, the horizon already lightening. Her boots skidded in something and she looked down to find the same black congeled blood soaking the pavement as it had her clothes earlier. A variety of demon limbs and bits, the source of the overpowering scent that had lead her here, lay scattered in the aftermath of a massacre. The question that haunted her was who was responsible? Had the local vampires banded together to defend their home territory? Unlikely. The Hellions would have easily slaughtered over a hundred Vampires. She had some ideas but wanted to confirm them.
She knelt amid the bits and pieces thoughtfully and ran her fingertips through a patch of ichor. Her ears twitched, a small sound, a whimper reaching them. Drip. Drip. Drip. The sounds of fresh blood dropping and a trail of it were leading away from her down behind a couple of dumpsters. Smiling grimly she followed the gruesome trail.
With a war cry the demon leapt out of a rusted trash reciprical and tried to tackle her to the ground but she was quick, far too quick and strong for him to compensate for his oversight before he was shoved face down on the ground, his clawed hands wrenched behind his back. Or hand, she mused, realizing the trail of blood she'd been following had originated from the stump of his left arm which had been torn off at the elbow. Heedless of the gore she held his limbs in place and leaned down to hiss in his ear,"Alright, Pretty Boy, I want some answers. Starting with what put you in this state."
Her voice dripped sarcasm, for pretty he was not. Allowing that the Hellion had a flat, noseless face and file-sharpened teeth he was also overweight and the leather vest he wore over his stained gray sweat shirt was far from complimentary even if it hadn't been soaked through with blood.
"Go screw yourself, bitch," he choked out in a surprisingly tenor pitch.
She raised a composed eyebrow, her golden eyes cool and slightly haughty. "Wrong answer." With icy indifference she seized the thick index finger on his remaining hand and snapped it at the second knuckle. The demon let loose a howl of pain, panting as she gripped his middle finger now.
"Okay! OKAY! It was the Slayer! She ripped into us, tore Razor and the other guys apart. I ain't never seen anything like it. Those claws..."
"Slayers are Human. They don't have claws," the Werewolf interrupted him impatiently.She was comtemplating an old trick used in the Vietnam War which involved snapping part of the spine and leaving the victume paralyzed from the neck down, essentially a "Head on a Stick" but her demon biology was a shade rusty and she wasn't quite sure which vertebrae to crack.
"Hey, I'm telling you what I saw, alright?" he shrilled indignantly as if reading her mind of her intentions,"Whatever she was she sure as HELL wasn't no Human!"She considered this a moment before letting him up. He backed away from her and studied his unlikely attacker from a safer distance,"What the Hall are you anyway?"
"I'm trouble,"Onyx replied cooly, the lack of emotion of her face somehow frightening to behold. "What's your name?"
"Klyed," he muttered uneasily, clearly wondering if she meant to finish him off. When her topaz eyes finally dismissed him he felt a surge of relief at having cheated death twice in one night. This female was not the same sort of abomination as thenow demonic Slayer but she wasa force of nature to be reckoned with, that much his small mind could comprehend.
"Well, Klyed,"She picked up a length of scorched chain and twirled it over her head before discarding it was a loud clank, then spotted something more to her liking. Crouching amid a pile of charred flesh she pulled free Razor's springloaded claws set which she calmly stripped from a severed hand and pulled on, flexing her fingers. The leather glove was soaked and stiff with drying demon blood which had shrunken it just enough to fit. She flewed her fingers thoughtfully, watching the blades slide into place and retract. "If I were you, I'd get the Hell outta Dodge..."
