Previously: During Buffy's senior year of high school she found herself confronted with two main foes, one from a little closer to home than the other. After putting her sister-Slayer and traitor Faith in a coma merely the night before the Mayor's plans had come to fruition Buffy had thought the battle would be won for the side of truth, justice and all those other fluffy-bunny ideals she held dear. Faith herself had even provided Buffy with the key to the Mayor's defeat. But when the final moment came the Slayer and her people tripped at the finish line.

The bomb didn't go off.

Chapter Two: "Pawn moves Two Spaces."

"You should never hurt the feelings of a brutal killer. You know, that's… uh, that's actually some pretty good advice." – Alexander Lavelle Harris
Her eyes were on fire. Faith didn't know if that were true or not but she wasn't going to open them again in a hurry. The florescent lights burned the soft tissues that had been in the dark for so long. Faith moved her hand to wipe away the tears that the lights had brought forth from her eyes. She was moving so slowly, and everything hurt. The atrophied muscles responded at a snail's pace to her mental commands, worrying the Slayer. A fighter with slow reflexes could get very dead, very fast. Faith didn't know if that were true or not but she wasn't going to open them again in a hurry. The florescent lights burned the soft tissues that had been in the dark for so long. Faith moved her hand to wipe away the tears that the lights had brought forth from her eyes. She was moving so slow and everything hurt. The atrophied muscles responded at a snail's pace to her mental commands, worrying the Slayer. A fighter with slow reflexes could get very dead, very fast.

The burning pain subsided, but it was still several minutes before Faith opened her eyes again. This time the pain was less and she bore through it with grim determination so she could confirm her surroundings. It looked like a hospital room, with pristine white walls and polished linoleum floor. She was alone in the room, and with only one bed, the one she occupied, Faith doubted she had a roomie. On her left was the door. Beside her bed, on the little table, sat a large bouquet of flowers. Obviously someone was thinking of her, but she couldn't see a card. There were no windows in her room.

The Slayer sat up slowly, wincing as the muscles in her back protested at being moved after so long. An IV was pinned into the back of her hand. She pulled it loose quickly and tossed it aside, along with the sticky pads they had placed on her chest. Hate needles. Pointy things. Something tugged at the back of her mind. Faith was forgetting something, which wasn't entirely uncommon. The feeling of forgetfulness kept nagging at her mind though, and so the Slayer figured it must have been something important. Probably something to do with why she was in this hospital room.

Her hand landed on her side in a flash. There was no pain… only a mild discomfort. How could that be? That bitch Buffy had gutted her like a catfish. Faith threw off her blankets and pulled up the thin paper hospital garb. A scar, silver and long, marred her pristine white skin. The puckered flesh resembled the remains of an appendectomy, but the scar was higher. Bigger. Buffy had been looking for a killing strike, not a damaging one.'

At the thought of the blond Faith's blood boiled. She had to get out of the place and kill Buffy. The stupid Slayer would only get in the way of the Mayor's Ascension… Suddenly the fog that seemed to have settled over Faith's mind during her prolonged sleep cleared. Her injuries had long since healed… how much time had passed since she had confronted Buffy on the apartment rooftop? The Boss, what had happened to him?

Faith jumped out of the bed and her legs buckled underneath her. "Fuck," she cussed, and then slapped her knee in annoyance. Those muscles hadn't faired as well as the smaller ones in her arms and refused to co-operate all together.

The neural monitors, which had been bleeping in an annoying way ever since Faith had awoken were finally unplugged from her head when they were stretched past their limits. The machines flat-lined once more. The Slayer bit her lip and used the steel frame of the bed to haul herself back into sitting position. How was she supposed to fight when she couldn't even stand? This was ridiculous. And there was still that disturbing chill coming from behind that she needed to address. Really gotta get me some clothes soon.

The little hairs on the back of Faith's neck rose when a tiny current of static electricity rippled through the Slayer's body. The tickle could only mean one thing. Vampire. It was comforting to know her senses hadn't been weakened like the rest of her body. Faith pulled herself back up onto the bed and rearranged the blankets over herself quickly. It didn't look quite right but it would have to do,

A series of clicks and grinding noises came from behind the door. Those locking mechanisms sounded impossible for the weakened Slayer to break through, and as the door scraped open along the floor Faith realized it was made of metal. Probably steel, thick steel. The hum of her vampire-radar started screeching in Faith's subconscious. She caught sight of an older-looking male vampire in a lab coat moseying into the room before she closed her eyes at went back to feigning sleep. Her act was convincing, built up from practice many years ago as a child.

"Come, come now. She's not going anywhere." The upbeat male voice must surely belong to the doctor. Following him into the room came two pairs of footsteps, one lighter and with the distinctive click-clacking of high-heeled shoes. At least the hearing didn't go as well, Faith mused with a small amount of elation. The heavier footsteps moved to the left of her bed, standing next to the doctor. Faith was sure the lighter footsteps had ended up on the right.

"We prefer not to take any chances," came a crisp woman's voice, confirming Faith's suspicions. "We have detailed files on this woman, we are well aware of how much trouble she can cause." The "we" lady paused and Faith felt a soft brush of fingertips across her forehead. A little chilly, but she had a pulse, so the mystery woman wasn't of the undead variety, "When she is conscious, of course."

"Yes, well. As you can see, she's not conscious now," the doctor stated, his voice dripping with disdain at the woman's observation. Wherever Faith was at least the vamp/human relationship was as it should be. And, bonus. No British accent, so whoever this woman was she probably wasn't Council. Faith doubted those pompous assholes like recruiting Americans.

The third person finally spoke up. His voice was harsh and snappy, like he wanted to be anywhere but here. The man didn't even bother to try to conceal his derision "Then explain a few things to me, good doctor. For one thing, why does she look so messed up? Like she's been moving about?" The air shifted and for a few moments the man's voice came from below the Slayer's level as he reached for something on the floor that had caught his attention. "And for another, why is her IV out?"

Oh, shit, Faith thought. The IV. She'd have to remember that for the next time she woke up in a random hospital with mild amnesia. The doctor took the man's discoveries better than Faith had, surprisingly.

"This one is a very violent patient," the smarmy doc began. It infuriated Faith, being spoken about behind her back in front of her face. But for the sake of actually escaping this well-disguised cell Faith had to reign in her temper and abstain from mauling this cheap excuse for a medical practitioner with her bare hands, at least for now. "She has been known to lash out at the orderlies sent to replenish her IV lines and, well, clean her up a bit. Comas are funny things like that. Each is unique, affecting a different part of the mind, depending on the trauma received when the coma was induced."

Coma? Coma? Buffy had put her in a freakin' coma? "For how long?" she desperately wanted to ask.

"And in her coma she has retained her desire to beat things?" the woman said snidely. Of course if Faith had managed to slay the vamp-doc she'd have to kill this whore next. The Slayer thought she might even be doing the world a civil service by disposing of the bitchy woman.

The doctor made a noise that could have been either a grunt of annoyance or a chuckle. "No. In Miss Wilkins' coma she dreams." He said it like that made her some scientific institution. Maybe it did, Faith didn't care. She was more interested in why the Doctor had called her "Miss Wilkins." "We get quite a bit of yelling from this room sometimes."

"So not dreams, but nightmares then?" the man asked. He sounded anything but curious.

"Mm-hm. Lots of "Buffy, don't!"'s and "F-ing' beech!"'s. She knows how to talk dirty."

The male ignored the praise and went for the bit that Faith herself was interested in. "Buffy… Summers? The other Slayer." He said it in such a way that Faith knew beyond a doubt that Buffy was alive and kicking, no matter how many weeks had passed between them. At least, if nothing else, she'd get to kill that little blond slut herself. But how did he know Buffy was a Slayer? If they knew that then surely they must know Faith is a Slayer too. They really didn't think I would wake up, she thought, mildly awed. If they had expected her up and about Faith figured there would have been enough padlocks, chains and straps covering the bed to make a dominatrix drool.

"So, what?" The woman asked, looking for clarification. "She thrashed about in her sleep-"

"And yanked her IV free," the doctor finished. "That's probably all we saw at the desk as well. No real brain activity, just her reacting to a dream." Well, there was a bit of luck. They might have been monitoring her vitals but there wasn't a camera in sight.

"Pretty violent dream."

"Like the man said, Lilah. This Slayer is a pretty violent girl."

"But still," the woman, Lilah, countered. Her voice a stern tone, like she was talking to a child. "It is in our client's interest to keep the Slayer as comfortable as possible. That's why we have these little monthly check-ups."

"To make sure you're doing your job," the man concluded. "Because if you're not doing your job, it'll look like we're not doing ours. And that will make us look bad. And we don't want to look bad."

A sharp sting penetrated the skin on the back of Faith's hand as the doctor made a new hole when he replaced the IV. The Slayer's eyes watered and she hoped it wasn't noticeable. Cold, dead hands replaced the receptors on Faith's chest and her skin turned to gooseflesh where he touched. Probably got his sick jollies out of it, too. Get that sorry excuse for a heart muscle pumping for a bit so that the blood can all rush somewhere. His hands that close to her breasts? She refused to even think about how vulnerable her body had been while she had lain in a coma of all things.

"Mr Mercer, I assure you, this happens all the time." The doctor patted Faith's head hard, mushing her hair into the pillow. He sounded a little nervous. Whoever this "we" was that they kept talking about must have been a heavy hitter. "She's fine. Really. Let me show you the progress reports. Her injuries are healing up quite nicely. The external tissue has already completely sealed…"

The door grated against the linoleum floor as it closed behind the trio, leaving Faith alone in the room once more.

So… Lilah and Mr Mercer are checking up on me for someone, huh? Faith thought, opening her eyes and immediately removing the needle from under her skin once more. "Bastard," she croaked out. Her voice was a husky whisper after her vocal chords long dormancy. No matter. Feeling had almost returned to her arms, her legs and voice would soon follow. And then won't Mr Mercer and Miss Lilah's client be surprised when Faith got up and walked out of here on her own two feet?

"Soon" turned into four hours later until Faith was confident enough on her feet once more. It was difficult to manoeuvre around the small room without exciting her heart rate too much or letting the sticky pads be pulled free from her chest. Faith didn't want to tip her hand to the vamps until she was ready for them.

The Slayer had felt around the edges of the door, searching for a hinge or a bolt or latch, something, anything, that would release the mechanism thus releasing her. No such luck. "Fine then," the brunette Slayer muttered in a voice that was more gravely than her usual tone but slowly coming back to it's former sensuality. Faith had tried to avoid conversing with herself as she put her body through series after series of stretches various people had taught her in an effort to limber the stiff muscles. People thought she was crazy enough without her talking to herself, or having a sock puppet buddy, or wearing a tinfoil hat so they can't hear you thoughts. "On to plan B."

Faith scowled. She hadn't meant to say that name. Hell, she hadn't even said the name, just the letter in a different context, but it still tasted the same on her tongue. Dirty and sour and acrid.

The Slayer pushed dark thoughts out of her mind and moved to the edge of the bed, ripping one of the steel supports free, giving her a makeshift bat. She tore the monitors off her chest and then turned on the machines the wires were hooked up to. "A little property destruction never hurt anybody."

It had been so long since she had been able to hit and hit and hit and lash out wildly and freely, without any restraint. There was usually some annoying logic holding her back: numbers against her, civilians she needed to protect (though not so much of that lately), time constraints themselves. But it did her muscles good, made her sluggish body wake up properly, and the beeping and flashing machines were destroyed all too quickly.

In the nurses' station the three lizard-like Chrrang demons who served as orderlies in the hospital were alerted to the sudden status change in Faith's monitors through blinking lights line across the wall. Only one room on the floor was occupied, and if said occupant was flat lining like the indicators were showing then all of those involved were precariously close to loosing their heads.

Yellow reptilian eyes blinked with vertical eyelids and when the six foot tall beast turned to move down the hallway their scales rippled from purple to green in the changing lights. This was a stark contrast to the ill fitted stark white uniforms that they wore over their scaly flesh.

The demons galloped on all fours towards the girl's room. The vampire doctor intercepted them halfway and for a freak show snapshot the group barrelling down the hallway looked like something out of Hellraiser's version of ER. "What have we got?" The vampire demanded in a George-Clooney-wannabe way.

The demon hissed and chattered and the vampire nodded in understanding. "Better get a crash-cart too, then." If the doctor could still sweat he would be swimming by now. The Slayer was crashing. The Slayer was dieing. Swiping a key card only he and a select few other had he punched in his code impatiently with his other hand. The door took a few moments to acknowledge his identity, and more still to complete the mechanical sequence that was designed to keep the undesirable element out of the Slayer's room.

The doctor squeezed in through a small gap instead of waiting for the door to opened completely. He was anxious to save the Slayer. It wasn't that the doc liked the comatose brunette in anyway –on the contrary, he had been bought into affairs long after the dust had settled from that Ascension kafuffle. Nasty business, that Ascension. But the doc found he had run out of time for pondering the power plays of humans. When he was nearly halfway through the reinforced steel door a shaft of metal clubbed him in the face, once, twice, thrice, and then a fourth time before the doctor had fallen.

Faith panted and adjusted her grip on the makeshift club. She hadn't even slain the vampire yet and already her legs were threatening to give out on her. The Slayer in her rebelled at the thought of giving up so easily and Faith brought the metal shaft up in a defensive position as a staff, just like her first Watcher had taught her to do. She waited for the door to open completely.

On the other side of the door the Chrrang demons watched in amusement as the vampire managed to get himself wedged between the opening door and the wall because of his impatience. The undead annoyance gasped loudly before kicking his legs out like a mule, and then dropping flat on the floor. The largest of the three Chrrang flicked out a forked tongue, scenting the air. Yes, the girl was awake.

The door opened fully, and through the threshold stood a thinner, more wiry Faith. Her muscle tone and mass had been lost to be replaced with a cruel looking thinness that only served to enhance the sneer on her lips. Her eyes had dark shadows under them, despite her prolonged rest. Faith's hair, which she had cut short not long after siding with Mayor Wilkins, had now grown long again. Down to her waist and the length she used to keep it at before she reached double digits in age, and her beloved chocolate locks had become a liability.

The three demons snickered at the pathetic looking girl in front of them. This was a Slayer?

Faith ran forward without warning. The demons had not expected the weakened girl to be the first to attack. The smallest of the three certainly did not expect the Slayer to continue sprinting toward it at full speed with an aluminium pole tucked under her arm like a lance. The bent, jagged end of the pole pushed its way through the soft tissue between the Chrrang's collarbones. The pole continued forward until the demon was suspended by the piece of metal that had been forced into the wall. From out of the wound spill purple ichor, the monsters lifeblood, and it instantly stained the white polo shirt. The lizard-thing made a gurgling sound before it coughed up bubbly blood.

The metal pole was blood-slicked and stuck in the wall. Faith tugged at it half-heartedly, knowing that her weapon was now lost to the building. And what a building it was. The brunette had run out of a bleach-white hospital room only to enter and equally ivory hallway. Faith gave the pole one more jiggle before relinquishing it to the wall. Now she was unarmed and in poor condition.

The largest of the two remaining Chrrang brought both fists down onto the Slayer's shoulder. Faith's body protested this sudden blow and she dropped to lie prone on the ground. The two demonic beasts waddled comically over to the Slayer on their hind legs. They needed their arms free to be able to pick the girl up and toss her back into the contained room. The biggest, the one who had struck her was grabbing her first. Faith didn't want to be put back into that cage. She forced her body into action.

Her leg struck out in a kick that would have made Xander laugh but she managed to catch her bare foot in the demons white shirt and pull herself a little higher so she could smash her other heel directly into the lizard demon's snout. The Chrrang grunted, startled, and dropped her. Faith crawled between the monsters legs and came out the other side. She took off running for the nurses' station, the only thing she could see down either stretch of white tunnel. The two demons pursued her closely.

Faith slid a little on the linoleum floor, the soles of her bare feet burning because of the friction. She ran into the alcove that was the nurses' office. Whether it was the coma weakening her or the demon's incredible speed one of the Chrrang, the smaller, stocky one who had held back from the fighting so far, managed to clear the desk in one leap and cut off Faith's path to wherever it was fleeing Slayers run to. The scaly beast roared in her face, revealing its many tiny and incredibly sharp teeth. Faith fell backward in shock, landing on her still rather chilly behind.

Instead of regaining her footing immediately Faith stayed on the floor long enough to reach for something she had seen under the desk while falling. He fingers had barely clasped the object when the demon wrenched her back up off the floor.

When the lizard demon had picked Faith up by her throat her initial thought was one of gratitude. At least the monster hadn't tried to pick Faith up by the hospital's paper smock. That garment was hanging hazardously by a few shreds on Faith's shoulder and looked like it was ready to flutter to the ground at any moment. The demon squeezed Faith's throat tighter, enjoying having a Slayer powerless in his grip when suddenly Faith pulled out the thing she had retrieved from under the office desk.

The fire extinguisher let out a stream of pallid halogen foam directly into the lizard sensitive mouth and eyes. The lizard released Faith, clawing at the chemicals that were getting inside its eyes and up its nostrils. Faith used the extinguisher canister like as a weapon, bashing the top of the lizard-demon's exposed head. The creature fell to the floor and Faith changed her grip on her weapon, now holding the canister near the nozzle and using the fire safety equipment at a bat, clubbing the purple demon until it stopped twitching.

The third Chrrang tried to tackle the Slayer from behind but she moved faster then the lizard-beast, spinning on her heel and launching the empty fire extinguisher canister at the large demon's face with all the forced she could muster. The steel connected with the bone right between the demon's eyes and the beast was temporarily blinded. It looked up in time to see Faith with a working fire hose and then the demon was forced back into the wall by a torrent of water. When the onslaught of freezing brown muck had ended the Slayer was standing above the drenched demon. In her hands above her head she held the PC they had recorded all her data on, and it was still plugged into the power socket.

Before either could contemplate the strangeness of the situation Faith drove the iMac down onto the demon's head. The screen shattered on the top of the lizard's flat skull and when all the circuits inside the plastic case collided together the Chrrang felt the pain of a good couple of thousands volts of electricity coursing through its brain.

The doctor felt his coat being stripped from his shoulders as he came to. Faith slipped the large garment over the scraps of paper hospital gown she still had and buttoned the entire coat up for decency's sake. The cuts that had yet to close completely –fresh cuts the Slayer had garnered only moments before- bled on to the white cotton, turning it brown in some patches. "Wha-?" the doc asked, propping himself up a little. He was still stunned from the quick-paced action earlier.

"Shut up." Faith commanded and kicked him in the face. The doctor groaned and she repeated herself. On the second round the doctor was silent. Damn, a fast learner. The last vamp she had played this particular game with hadn't shut up for hours. Not until he'd lost his voice from screaming. Faith stood in the centre of the vampire's back and pulled his head up toward her by his hair, intentionally contorting the doctor in a painful manner.

"I only have one question for you," the Slayer whispered menacingly into the vampire's ear. "And you better pray that you get it right." She released his head and he flopped back down to the floor. But dammit, he was still silent, so she couldn't tell him to shut up again. Faith kicked the doctor in the ribs simply because he wasn't acting tortured enough. "I heard ya talkin' about her before, so I know you know where she is. You know?"

She didn't bother waiting for an answer. Instead she fiddled with the door controls to her cell until she had pressed the right button. The heavy door creaked and began to close. The doctor didn't like the look of this and tried to squirm away but Faith had her foot firmly planted in his back. "Uh, uh, uh," she sang, shaking her head slightly. "I haven't even asked my question yet." The door scraped closer. "Where," Faith said slowly, enunciating each word. "Is. Buffy. Fucking. Summers?""

"I-I don't know!" the vampire cried out.

Faith hissed. "Wrong answer," and then the Slayer forced the vampire's head closer to the floor so that the undead creature could see the metal edging its way closer. "Where is she, mother-fucker? I know you know!" The vampire screamed as the edge of the metal finally reached its forehead and applied pressure.

"Okay! Okay!" he sobbed. "Last I heard the Council had relocated to-!" and then the door had cracked through the vampire's weak skull, demolishing the fiend's brain and the easiest way to find Buffy. But that was okay, because her revenge would keep. Faith would just have to think of a better way to find her errant sister-Slayer, and then her vengeance would be doubly sweet because of all the waiting.

"Fuck!" the Slayer cussed, and smashed her fist into the nearest wall, cracking the polished and antiseptic-treated surface.

Once Faith had left what she had discovered was her own private ward she had nearly vomited. The hospital walls -because that's what she barely recognised it as, Sunnydale General Hospital- were all tinted various shades of pink and red with what looked like multiple slaughters. The blood was all at different degrees of drying. Faith moved silently down the hallway to where she thought the exit should be.

"Ki… kill…" The voice was weak and ragged and belonged to a young man strapped to an operating table sitting by itself in the middle of a hallway. His body was bound to the table by belts, and the flesh that could be seen under them had been rubbed raw. The boy had been there for a while. And he was thin, so thin Faith could see his lips were starting to pull back over his gum in a horrible grimace. How had they kept him alive for so long in this condition? The Slayer's eyes trailed down his body and she realized he wouldn't be alive for much longer. The youth's stomach had been sliced and pinned open and Faith could see things moving inside of him… Maggots…

The girl stumbled back away from the suffering man and threw up near the wall. It was all too much. Just when she thought things couldn't possibly become any worse her Slayer-senses tingled. Demons were heading her way and Faith quickly ducked out of sight away from the man, behind what used to be a vending machine of some kind. The boy kept his gaze on her, still whimpering for her aid. "Ki-ill… me… please…"

Two more of the orderlies showed op to roll the suffering man away. One of the lizards took it upon itself to tear off one of the man's ears and chew on it like a tasty treat while they were wheeling him away.

Faith leaned back against the wall and inhaled deeply. She was not going to hyperventilate. She hadn't done it before and she wasn't going to start now. No-sir-ee-bob. Because hyperventilating was for nerds. Once Faith was satisfied her breathing was under control again she set off again, her pace far quicker than before as she searched for the hospital's exit. She had to get out of this madhouse and quick.

From then on the girl stuck to the shadows, avoiding both Hospital staff and patients alike.

Faith crawled though the ambulance that had wedged itself halfway inside the hospital's waiting room. When she jumped out of the vehicle's back door she found her eyes once again assaulted by bright light. Outside the sun was shining and Faith realised it had to be late afternoon, judging from the star's position in the sky. She couldn't tell whether it was day or night while she was racing down the endless passageways of Sunnydale General. As a safety precaution all the windows were boarded up or painted over, so the vampires could move about freely inside the hospital, she assumed. Luckily it was still daytime, so the Slayer didn't have the added pressure of vampires out and about on her mind yet. Her head was spinning as it was. Maybe coma patients were supposed to wait a week or something before they can go back to killing things.

Outside the hospital there was no life of any kind to speak of, not even the supernatural variety. The death and destruction theme continued throughout the rest of Sunnydale as far as Faith could see. Everything was so desolate. A mini pile-up had been caused in front of the hospital and now all three cars involved were burnt out husks. Glass from their windscreens and windows was strewn across the pavement and Faith really wished she had some clothes. She may have been from Boston but only standing around was making her feel the cold. If she stayed in the lab coat she was going to get sick, fast.

Beyond the hospital driveway Faith found no sign of people. No sign of living humans, anyway, as she pointedly ignored the decomposing torso seated at the bus stop, looking for al the world like it was waiting for the bus. What was left of the man's limbs was half-shoved down an open manhole nearby. Faith kept her eyes ahead and continued walking.

Somebody was sure to find the demon bodies and the vampire doctor's dusty remains in the Slayer's wing sooner or later. Then they would be after her again. Faith thought she had better put some distance between herself and the hospital while she still had the chance. If not, and the hospital staff caught her, she may not have the opportunity to escape again. Not if Mr Mercer and Miss Lilah's "We" are as powerful as they were made out to be. The Slayer broke into a paced jog as she ran through the deserted downtown Sunnydale, hoping she would make it closer to the residential area before nightfall.

Wesley threw the bottle of scotch against a large oak tree. Theresa had gone off again to God knew where. Probably off to see that blond freak and the bitch. They were so the "in" crowd, as Cordelia would have once put it. No matter. Wesley was sure he could entertain himself for a bit while the little miss was out. He stood thinking for a while and then reached into his bag for another bottle of alcohol.

The liquid burned down his throat. That was the reason why he preferred spirits. You could really feel yourself getting drunk. And you could get drunk quickly, which was always a bonus. After all he had seen and done since Theresa had pulled him free from that raging mob during the Mayor's Ascension he needed the fiery liquid to burn away a few days of his week at a time. Had things been this fucked up when he was still with the Council? The ex-Watcher couldn't really tell. To him it seemed as if he had traded in one hell for another. He had another drink. He needed another drink.

That little tramp had caused nothing but suffering in his life. Circumstance was really the only thing that kept them together, and even that had a tenuous hold.

He wanted it to get dark, already. Nothing interesting ever happened in Sunnydale until after the sun had set. A day out in Weatherly Park had seemed like a good idea until he had actually headed out there and then that bloody woman had scampered off with those damn attention seeking drama queens. She had stood him up and left him in a place that was completely dead.

Or not quite dead.

Across the street, weaving in and out of the trashed cars and building rubble was one of the few urchins left in the town. A gutsy one, too, if she were running down the street this close to sunset. Wesley moved deeper into the shadows as the girl approached. She ran past the chain-link fence that separated Weatherly Park from the rest of the town, not noticing the figure watching from behind an evergreen.

The former Watcher, for his part, was shocked into immobilisation at the sight of his former charge rushing down the street. Alone. And bleeding.

"Faith."

Continued in the next chapter: "Knights head into Play"