Chapter 12: What's My Line Part 2
November 26, 1997 - Wednesday
The first thing Dawn did the next morning was show the ring to Chloe.
Chloe studied it, comparing it to an etching she'd found in one of her books from her personal collection.
Xander sat opposite Chloe at the dining table eating breakfast. Dawn sat next to him feeling shaky, and she definitely looked the worse for wear. If not for Buffy, she was sure she might very well not have survived.
"This guy was hard core, Chloe," she said. "And Angel was freaked by the ring."
Chloe gave a slight nod. "I'm afraid he was not overreacting. The ring is worn only by members of the Order of Taraka. They are a society of demon assassins dating back to King Solomon—"
"And didn't they beat the Elks last year in the Sunnydale Adult Bowling League Championship?" Xander asked seriously.
Chloe ignored him. "Their credo is to sow discord and kill the unwary."
"Bowling is a vicious game—"
"I'm all for a good joke, Xander," said Chloe. "But now is not the time for it. This is deadly serious."
"These assassins," Dawn asked, "why would they be after me or Buffy?"
"I don't know," Chloe admitted. "But I think the best thing to do is to find a secure location. Someplace out of the way where you can go until we decide on the best course of action—"
That did it. Dawn stumbled to her feet, officially freaked. "Okay." She held up her hands. "You and Angel have both told me and Buffy to head for the hills. What's the deal?"
Chloe sighed. "Unlike vampires they have no earthly desire except to collect their bounty," she explained. "To find their target and eliminate it."
"Which is me and Buffy," said Dawn with a sigh.
"Correct," agreed Chloe. "You can kill as many of them as you like. It won't make any difference, because where there is one, there will be another. And another. They won't stop coming until the job is done." She paused, fixing Dawn with a worried look. "The worse of it is, they are masters of deceit. Vampires are bound by the night, but these predators can be anywhere, any time. They can appear as normal as the next person. Just another face in the crowd."
Dawn gazed back at Chloe, feeling cold. She could sense the deep fear beneath Chloe's logic.
"You might not ever know when one of them is near," Chloe finished quietly. "Not until the moment of your death."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
In the house next door to Buffy's, Mr. Pfister was whistling to himself.
He'd pulled up his chair in front of a second-story window, and he was looking through binoculars directly into Buffy's bedroom.
Mrs. Kalish—or at least what was left of her—was lying on the floor.
Now she was little more than a desiccated corpse. Worms crawled out of her nose and mouth, squirming their way across the floor to where Mr. Pfister kept watch.
He sat very calmly as the worms wriggled up his leg and around his waist, as they reached his right arm, which was only partially formed up to the wrist.
The nub of his arm seemed to be moving.
The nub of his arm seemed to be throbbing, undulating, as the teeming mass of slimy worms regrouped themselves, becoming his hand.
Delicately, Mr. Pfister picked up a steaming cup of tea.
He sipped.
And he waited.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 - 0
The halls were packed with people. As Buffy shouldered her way through the Career Fair crowds, she tried to ignore the pain in her knee as Dawn approached her.
"Did you show the ring to Chloe and Giles?" Buffy asked.
"Showed it to Chloe this morning. Angel was right to be worried," Dawn admitted. "From what Chloe said the one that attacked us last night was an assassin. And that more will come till the collect their bounty, which is us. And we won't know them till they attack us."
Buffy sighed. "So, they can appear as normal as the next person . . .just another face in the crowd?"
"Yes," said Dawn as they moved cautiously past lockers, past mobbed tables and booths, past classmates and friends, past a policewoman chatting with students, past a pair of Cordettes minus their leader Cordelia . . .
They headed for the door. Buffy threw it open and they bolted outside.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
"I wish there was more we could do," Chloe sighed. When she got to the library, she had told Giles about the ring.
Giles looked up at her, his own face mirroring her fatigue and concern. "We're doing all we can," he assured her. "The only course of action is to decipher the contents of the stolen book."
"I've never seen Dawn and Buffy like that," Willow broke in worriedly. "They just took off . . ."
"They didn't go home," Xander announced. They turned as he entered the library, a gloomy look on his face. "I let Buffy's phone ring a few hundred times before I remembered her mom's out of town. Then I dialed both Dawn's cell and the house phone. No answer from the cell phone and I let it ring a few hundred times also. The babysitter Dawn hired while Mrs. S. is out of town answered. She said Dawn wasn't there."
Chloe said. "I think my words of caution were a bit too alarming—"
"You think?" Xander threw back at Chloe, and Willow hurried to referee.
"It's good that they took you seriously, Chloe," she assured Chloe. "I just wish we knew where they were."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Dawn and Buffy had been walking for hours.
Tired and cold, they turned onto their own street and continued along the sidewalk till they came to Dawn's house.
"We have to check on Elizabeth and Marie," said Dawn as they turned toward the house. Dawn fumbled for her keys and then opened the door.
"Hello, Ms. Summers," said the babysitter getting up off the couch. "Your friends called looking for you. Elizabeth is down for a nap and Marie is in your room sleeping as well."
"Thank you, Susan," said Dawn as she paid the woman who grabbed her things and headed out the door.
"You can sleep with Marie in my room," said Dawn. "I'll sleep in the nursery."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
The Alibi Room was probably the seediest bar in Sunnydale.
As a rule, lights were kept low here—to hide both the décor and the patrons—and the bartender was a shifty-eyed bottom-dweller named Willy. He prided himself on being a small-time hustler, but he was even prouder of the fact that he moved in the underworld of vampires.
Tonight, Willy was cleaning up, giving the floor a perfunctory once-over with his broom. It was after-hours and he wasn't expecting anyone, so when the shadowy figure appeared in the doorway, he got annoyed.
"We're closed," Willy scowled. "Can't you read the sign?"
The figure moved slowly into the room.
As Willy looked up and recognized Angel, his whole demeanor changed. He'd always been scared of Angel—he didn't want any trouble.
"Oh," he laughed nervously, "hey, Angel. I didn't recognize you in the dark there."
Angel didn't answer. He simply stood and stared.
"What—what can I do for you tonight?" Willy chatted, already putting distance between them. He busied himself near the bar, trying to sound casual.
"I need some information," Angel said.
"Yeah?" Again, that nervous laugh. "Man. That's too bad. 'Cause I'm staying away from that whole scene. I'm living right, Angel."
Angel's voice was smooth as silk. "Sure, you are, Willy. And I'm taking up sunbathing."
"Come on now," Willy's voice cracked. He swallowed hard, trying to force down his growing fear.
"Don't be that way. I treat you vamps good. I don't hassle you. You don't hassle me. We all enjoy the patronage of this establishment. Everybody's happy."
But Angel was coming toward him. He was walking over to Willy with slow, measured steps, and Willy could feel danger closing in around him.
"Who sent them?" Angel asked.
Willy's nerves were about to explode. "Who sent who?"
Lightning fast, Angel's hand clamped around Willy's neck. The broom clattered to the floor as Willy gasped for breath.
"The Order of Taraka," Angel said calmly.
"I tell you"—Willy's eyes bulged with panic—"I haven't been in the loop."
"Let's try again. The Order of Taraka. They're after the Slayer."
"Come on, man . . ." Willy whimpered.
"Is it Spike?"
Angel tightened his grip. He lifted Willy off the floor. Willy tried desperately to choke out a negotiation.
"Angel, hey . . . I—I got some fresh pig's blood in. Good stuff. My fence said the white cell count is—" His words gurgled in his throat. It suddenly dawned on him that Angel was only moments away from squeezing the life out of him.
"You know," Angel mused, "I'm a little rusty when it comes to killing humans. It could take a while."
"Spike will draw and quarter me, man!"
At this, Angel relaxed his grip. He set Willy back on his own two feet.
"I'll take care of Spike," Angel said.
"You know he ordered those guys," Willy broke at last, words tumbling out in a rush. "Spike's sick of your girl getting in his way."
"Where can I find him?"
"I tell you that, and I'm going to need relocating expenses," Willy whined. "It'll cost you—"
Angel slammed his head into the counter, sending glasses, plates, pieces of food and other debris scattering across the bar and onto the floor. Angel's fingers tightened around his neck.
"It will cost who?" Angel prompted him
"Okay . . . Okay!" Willy gasped. "He and that freaky chick of his are—"
Angel squeezed tighter. He was so intent on Willy's information that he never saw the broom handle flying toward his head. Before he even realized what was happening, Angel was blind-sided across the temple. He hit the floor hard, and Willy fell in a heap at his side.
Dazed, Angel looked up. He could see a tall, exotic woman standing over him, wearing a large medallion around her neck. Her whole stance, her whole attitude radiated lethal power. She had a strange foreign accent, and her voice rang with utter contempt.
"Where is she?" Kendra demanded.
Angel kept staring. He shook his head and spit blood onto the floor.
"The girls," Kendra said. "Where are they?"
There was no doubt in Angel's mind as to who she was talking about. He answered her with calm defiance. "Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you."
Kendra broke the broom handle over her knee. "Then die."
Instantly, Angel rolled out of the way. He felt a sudden swish of air as the makeshift stake plunged down toward his heart. He jumped to his feet, but Kendra was on him again in a flash. Willy raced for the exit and disappeared.
There was no holding back now. As Angel and Kendra fought savagely, they moved through the main room of the club, battling their way toward the rear. The bar's storage area was basically a floor-to-ceiling metal cage where expensive liquor was locked away, and as the two of them crashed inside, bottles shattered everywhere.
Kendra glared at Angel's face. He'd transformed into a vampire now, and his eyes were full of rage. He took up a broken bottle, thrusting it at her to fend her off, and for a split-second Kendra hesitated.
"Who are you?" Angel growled.
Kendra backed out of the storage area. Her eyes were wary and she was breathing hard, yet there was an unnerving coolness about her.
"I won't hurt you," Angel promised, "if you tell me what I need to know."
And then, unexpectedly, she smiled.
Angel was incredulous. "You think this is funny?" he demanded.
Without warning, the door of the storage cage slammed shut.
He watched in disbelief as Kendra bolted it. "I think it's funny now," she mocked him.
Angel leapt to the door, shaking it viciously, trying to break the lock.
"Those girls," Kendra said. "The ones I saw you with before—"
"You stay away from them!"
"I'm afraid you are not in a position to threaten."
Angel pressed his face to the metal gate. "When I get out of here, I'll do more than threaten—"
"Then I suggest you move quickly," Kendra replied, glancing at a row of high windows that ran along one wall of the storage cage. Uneasily, Angel followed her eyes.
"Eastern exposure," Kendra explained. "The sun comes in a few hours." A smile touched her lips. "More than enough time for me to find your girlfriends."
Frustrated, Angel watched her go.
He threw himself desperately against the door of the cage—and then again and again.
But the lock held fast.
And night crept steadily on toward morning.
November 27, 1997 - Thursday
The neighborhood was just beginning to waken.
It was still very early, but Xander and Cordelia were already parked in front of Buffy's house, making their way up to her porch. They had decided to check Buffy's first as it had been on the way to Dawn's.
"I can't even believe you." Cordelia's shrill voice shattered the morning's tranquility. "You drag me out of bed this early for a ride? What am I, mass transportation?"
Xander knocked loudly on the front door. "That's what a lot of the guys say. But it's just locker-room talk. I never pay it any mind."
"Great. So now I'm your taxi and your punching bag."
"I like to think of you more as my witless foil, but have it your way." The door was locked, so Xander began trying windows, searching for a way in. "Come on, Cordy. You can't be a member of the Scooby Gang if you aren't willing to be inconvenienced now and then."
He found what he was looking for. Unlatching the window, he climbed inside.
"Oh, right," Cordelia rolled her eyes. "'Cause I lie awake at night hoping you tweekos will be my best friends. And that my first husband will be a balding, demented, homeless man—"
She broke off as Xander opened the door.
"Buffy and Dawn could be in trouble," Xander said seriously.
"And, what, exactly, are you going to do about it if they are?" Cordelia asked. They were standing in the living room, and Cordelia scanned the furnishings with a practiced eye. "If you hadn't noticed—you're the lameness. They are superchicks or whatever."
"At least I'm lameness that cares. Which is more than you can say." Xander wasn't kidding now. He turned away from her and headed in the other direction. "I'm going to check upstairs."
Pouting, Cordelia stayed behind. She started to take another quick inventory of Buffy's living room when she was startled by a knock on the front door.
Looking out the window at the top of the door, Cordelia saw a bland, balding salesman, who tipped his hat and held up a briefcase for her to see.
Blush Beautiful Skin Care.
That was enough for Cordelia. She opened the door at once.
"Good day," he said politely. "I am Norman Pfister with Blush Beautiful Skin Care and Cosmetics. I was wondering if I might interest you in some free samples?"
"Free?" Cordelia hesitated. This wasn't even her house, but the offer was just too tempting to resist.
She stepped aside so Mr. Pfister could come in.
And then she closed the door.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
In the back storage area of the bar, the first glow of morning light was just beginning to warm the windows.
In human form once again, Angel could feel the dangerous prickling along his skin, could feel the faint throb of panic rising inside him.
Desperately he tried to tear the metal door from its hinges.
He was running out of time.
Angel's apartment was a cool, dark tomb.
A haven from the waking world.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Dawn slept in the chair next to Elizabeth's crib.
Suddenly there was a sound.
That strange, disturbing sound as of something moving about in the room. A soft, stealthy sound, yet loud enough to rouse Dawn at last.
Dawn's eyelids fluttered open.
As the axe slammed into the chair, only inches from her neck, Dawn twisted herself away.
She leapt nimbly from the chair. From somewhere far back in her brain came the sudden realization that the second assassin had found her, and she stared defiantly into the woman's exotic eyes.
"You must be number two," Dawn challenged her, but Kendra again swung the axe. "Buffy!"
Dawn dodged the razor-sharp blade. Kendra refused to give up.
"Thanks for the wake-up," Buffy said as she ran into the room.
The third time the axe started to come down—Buffy caught Kendra's arm in midflight. To her distress, she couldn't seem to wrench the axe away—Kendra's strength was every bit as powerful as her own. "She's strong, Dawn."
Dawn grabbed the axe and adding her strength to Buffy's was able to finally wrench from the other girl's hands just as Elizabeth began to cry.
"Oh, thank you for that," said Dawn angrily.
Buffy swept Kendra's legs out from under her and watched as their opponent hit the floor.
But neither Dawn or Buffy expected Kendra to recover so quickly. To their surprise they felt their own legs being swept from under them, and in the next instant they landed on the floor beside Kendra.
Now the three of them wrestled furiously, rolling about on the floor. Kendra's blows were precise and
well-aimed, but both Dawn and Buffy managed to elude them. The nursery was fast becoming a shamble. They smashed into the changing table, a bookshelf, the dresser. So far they had been lucky that they hadn't hit the crib.
Dawn and Buffy were getting fed up.
"Come on," Buffy warned Kendra. "Don't make us do the chick fight thing."
For a second, that seemed to confuse Kendra. Panting for breath, she gasped out, "Chick . . . fight?"
"You know—"
Buffy dug her fingernails into Kendra's hand. As Kendra cried out, Buffy jerked her violently by the hair and threw her off balance.
"Cliched," Buffy said aloud, "but effective."
But now three of them were on their feet again. They circled like animals, both gasping for breath.
They sisters steeled themselves. They were ready for the final offensive. They glared furiously into Kendra's eyes and prepared to spring.
"Who are you two?" Kendra suddenly asked.
"What do you mean who are we?" asked Dawn. "You attacked me. Who the hell are you?"
Kendra glared back at the sisters. Proud and defiant to the very end. "I am Kendra," she said. "The Vampire Slayer."
"Dawn?" said Buffy as she looked at her sister.
"Kendra was the one called after you," answered Dawn. "I never met her; I think in the original timeline when mom went out of town, I went with her."
"You can't stop me," Kendra said ignoring the conversation between the sisters. "Even if you kill me, another Slayer will be sent to take my place."
"Dawn and I are Slayers," said Buffy.
"Nonsense. There is but one—and I am she."
"What if we can prove it to you," suggested Dawn. "We could take you to our Watchers and you can get the information straight from the horse's mouth."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Angel looked up at the window high on the wall of the storage area.
Sun was streaming through the barred glass, spilling light into the room.
He could hardly breathe now.
Huddled in a corner, he tried to draw into himself, tried to put even an inch more distance between himself and the morning.
The sun angled across the floor, leaving him only a small patch of safety. With every passing minute, it crept closer.
Angel was sweating. His body was wracked with pain.
He closed his eyes and tried to envision the darkness.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
"So, this is Buffy's successor?" asked Chloe as she watched Giles pace.
"Yes," answered Dawn.
"Your watcher is Sam Zabuto, correct?" Giles asked Kendra.
Kendra seemed strangely subdued in Giles's presence, almost subservient. Even her voice held a touch of reverence as she answered his question. "Yes, sir."
"We've never met," Giles went on, "but he is very well respected."
"That he is," said Chloe
Everyone turned as Willow came into the library. She stopped just inside the door and smiled. "Hey—"
Before Willow could finish her sentence, Kendra advanced on her, ready to attack.
"Identify yourself!" Kendra ordered.
"Back off, Pink Ranger." Buffy's look was withering. "This is mine and Dawn's friend."
"Friend?" Kendra demanded.
"Yes," said Chloe. "Since there are two Slayers here Giles and I agreed that with the aid of their friends we would form a semblance of a team. Willow is one of their friends, who aids in research."
"But the Slayer must work in secret," Kendra broke in. "For security—"
"You see here is the thing," said Dawn. "I'm from the future. I'm Buffy's sister. I was called when your successor died protecting me. I came back to save my family who died in that future."
"Is she telling the truth?" Kendra wondered.
"She is," said Giles.
"Hi, guys," Willow said quickly, putting an end to the discussion. "What's going on?"
"There's been a big mix-up," Buffy replied.
"It seems that Kendra, Buffy's successor from when she died in the Master's cave, has been sent to Sunnydale," Giles added.
"She . . . died?" asked Kendra, clearly lost.
"Just a little," Buffy insisted.
"Yes, she drowned," Giles explained. "But she was revived."
"Why were you sent, Kendra?" asked Chloe.
"Mr. Zabuto said all the signs indicate that a very dark power is about to rise in Sunnydale," answered Kendra.
"Dawn?" asked Chloe as she looked at her Slayer.
"No idea," said Dawn. "I never actually met Kendra. I only knew about her because Buffy had told me about her years later. In the original timeline I was out of town with mom when Kendra came to town the first time. And I was at my friend Janice's the second time."
"Then we'll need to contact Kendra's Watcher," said Chloe as she looked at Giles.
"Agreed," said Giles.
"So, what was your plan for fighting this dark power?" Buffy asked Kendra. "Just sort of attack people till you found a bad one?"
Kendra sounded indignant. "Of course not."
"Why did you attack me?" wondered Dawn.
Kendra hesitated. Then sheepishly she said, "I thought you both were vampires."
A silent look passed around the room.
"Ooh," Buffy quipped, "a swing and a miss for the rookie."
"I had good reason to think you two were," Kendra justified herself. "Did I not see you with a vampire?"
"She must have been at the rink when the first Order of Taraka assassin tried to kill us," said Dawn. "Likely saw Angel then."
Buffy tried to explain to Kendra. "You saw us with Angel. He's a vampire, but he's good."
"Angel?" Kendra echoed. "You mean Angelus? I've read of him. He is a monster."
"No," Giles broke in mildly, "no, he's good now."
"Really." Willow gave an emphatic nod.
"He had a gypsy curse," Buffy added.
"Oh." Kendra stared at Buffy. "He had a what?"
"A Romani tribe cursed him with his soul," said Dawn. "His soul keeps his demon in check. As a result, he doesn't kill humans, he buys animal blood from a meat packer."
"He looked to me like just another animal when I—" Kendra argued.
She stopped. Noting her strained expression, Buffy eyed her worriedly.
"When you what?" Buffy asked her. "What did you do to him?"
Kendra didn't answer right away. "I . . ."
"What did you do?" Dawn asked.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Angel's patch of shadow had dwindled down to a mere sliver.
As he lay there moaning softly, he tried to rearrange his jacket over his head, taking what little protection it provided. In spite of that, he was literally smoldering now, and the pain was almost more than he could bear.
The stench of scorched flesh hung in the room.
As sunlight flooded the storage area, Angel prepared to die.
He was too far gone to notice when the door slammed open . . . too weak to look up when a pair of hands grabbed his legs and began to pull.
Willy dragged Angel through the dirt of the stockroom. He pulled him away from the light and into the next room, then lifted a trap door hidden in the floor.
Leaning down, he pushed Angel's nearly lifeless body down into the sewer. Angel collapsed in the water, and as Willy lowered himself down, Spike and his minions stepped out of the shadows to meet them.
"Here you go, my friend," Willy announced proudly. "A little singed around the edges maybe, but he'll be good as new in a day or so."
Helplessly weak, Angel was almost unconscious. Spike reached for him, but Willy tugged Spike's hand away.
"Hey, now," Willy reminded him. "We had a deal."
Spike gave Willy a look. He pulled a wad of money from his pocket and started to peel off several bills, handing them over to Willy as he did so.
"What's the matter, Willy?" Spike asked him. "Don't trust me?"
Willy was quickly counting the bills. He gestured to Spike for more.
"Like a brother," Willy responded.
Spike held the last bill up. He made Willy reach for it. And then he struck him hard across the face.
"Talk," Spike warned, "and I'll have your guts for garters."
Willy got the message. "Wild horses couldn't drag it."
Spike unfolded one more bill. He crumpled it in his hand and dropped it into the filthy water.
"Oops," he grinned. "Sorry—friend."
It didn't bother Willy to fish for his money. As a matter of fact, there was very little that ever bothered Willy. Still, after all the trouble he'd just gone to, he couldn't help but be curious about this particular outcome.
He paused and looked up, watching Spike's minions gather up Angel.
"What're you going to do with him, anyway?" Willy asked.
Spike looked deep in thought. "I'm thinking . . . maybe dinner and a movie. I don't want to rush into anything. I've been hurt, you know."
He thrust his hands in the pockets of his black coat. And then he strode confidently away, disappearing from view around a bend in the tunnel.
The minions followed with Angel, leaving Willy behind.