See Part 1 for disclaimers and story details

Author's Notes: I've had such a great time writing this, I can't tell you how happy I am to know you guys are still enjoying it just as much. Lynette, the fab-beta, tells me I don't have to say nice things about her each time. Well get used it, lady! Thanks for all your hard work and patience. (vbg) As always, any and all feedback is appreciated.

Part 8

The seven victims Faith had read about that morning had been found in five different locations, yet when she looked on a map, they all appeared to be centralized around the largest cemetery in the Springs. There had to be a spot somewhere in the rambling area for them to hide during the day, far away from any caretaker and the bright sunlight of the clear skies Colorado was famous for.

She drove carefully through the unfamiliar streets, not wanting to get into an accident on her first day out on her own and dent her pretty little car. The snazzy Jetta Jack had said was hers was nothing she thought she would have chosen at first glance. But the moment she sat in the driver's seat and the engine was purring steadily, she fell in love. The car was, in a word, perfect. It took her to the first site she'd marked on the map without a hitch and waited patiently for her to wander the area, soaking in the surroundings. There were more than enough places for a vampire to skulk about, unfortunately more than she thought she'd find. Returning to the car, she jotted a couple of notes for any future patrols and drove on to the next one.

By lunch she'd visited all of the murder sites. By two in the afternoon she'd cased the larger of the cemeteries and picked out the most likely places for vampires to hide. By five she was back at the house, still waiting for Jack to call. She'd dutifully carried her cell in her jeans pocket, but it hadn't made so much as a peep all day.

The home phone was ringing when she got her key into the front door. Hurriedly flipping the lock, she flung the door open and ran to the cordless on the small table in the living room. When the ringer stopped in mid-tone she could only hope it was because she'd hit the talk button and not that the person had hung up. "Hello?" For once, luck was with her.

"Hey, babe."

It was Jack. Despite the clearly exhausted tone her heart thumped just a little harder in her chest at the endearment. She'd never been one for nicknames, especially of the mushy kind, but this one, coming from Jack's lips, didn't seem half bad at all. "Are you okay? You sound tired."

"Just hearing your voice helps," he answered, neatly avoiding her question. She frowned, wondering if that was something he did on a regular basis when he was at work. "I've got bad news. I've got to stay here tonight. The situation's been resolved, in a way, but things are still a little shaky."

She tried to keep her disappointment from showing in her voice. Jack didn't need to deal with his wife's insecurities in addition to the problems in the Mountain. But it was hard. "I understand. How are the teams you asked Sam about this morning?"

There was a slight pause before he sighed quietly. "They're okay. A few bumps and bruises, but no lasting damage."

"That's good to hear. Did you get Brightman to look at your head?" Somehow she didn't think so.

She was right. "No. It feels a lot better. Hardly even know it got banged up last night."

"Uh huh." If she sounded skeptical she hoped it carried over the phone line to him. She should have made him promise to get checked out before he left.

"Although I did get some curious looks after I shaved."

Remembering the rather spectacular bruising along his jaw even through the whiskers, Faith winced. Without the slight camouflage there would be no hiding it for was it was. "What'd you tell everyone?" She could hear the questions already.

"That's one of the few perks about being The Man," he said smugly. "I don't have to answer questions if I don't feel like it. I can just glare everyone into submission."

A small burst of laughter fell out of her mouth. If that wasn't a classic Jack O'Neill statement she didn't know what was. "When do you think you'll be home?"

"Tomorrow." There was no doubt in his voice. "One night away is too long as it is."

A little thrill of sensation ran down her spine at the words. "I missed you today." It slipped out with no thought, but surprisingly she wasn't embarrassed. It felt as natural as breathing.

"I missed you too, babe." His voice had dropped, growing slightly deeper and more intimate. "What'd you do today?"

"Tooled around town some, getting a feel for the place. Willow called this morning."

A stunned silence filled the space of a full five seconds at her words. "She did? Any news?"

"Just more of the same," she replied quietly. "They can't find anything. No demon. No spell."

"So we go from here, then."

Warmth filled her chest at his instant response. "Yeah. I guess we do."

A voice that wasn't Jack's filtered through the receiver, too faint for her to distinguish the individual words. Then Jack was back. "I'm sorry, babe, I have to go."

"That's okay. Be safe down there." She didn't know how he couldn't be, but she wasn't taking any chances.

"Always," came the confident reply. "I'll call later if I can."

"I'll be here. See you tomorrow?"

"Bright and early if I can help it."

The shriek of an alarm blared through the receiver a split second before he hung up. Almost dropping the phone Faith stared down at it, wide-eyed. What the hell was that? And why did it sound like a bad thing? Jack had better come back tomorrow with all his pieces in the same condition as when he'd left her or she was going to kill him. Ignoring the irony of the threat, she returned the phone to its cradle and let out a sigh. What was she going to do to fill the hours until he got home?

An abrupt rumble from her stomach caught her by surprise. Just when had she eaten last? Breakfast? No, she'd wolfed down a poor excuse for a sandwich from a gas station somewhere between murder site four and five. It was past time to fill her belly.

After washing down a plate of leftovers with a glass of water, she tapped her nails on the counter, contemplating her options. She could stay home, watch some TV and be safe. Or she could sharpen a few chunks of wood, wander over to the nearest church for some holy water, check out those hiding places and make sure Jack's power problem didn't get anyone else killed.

Well, she'd never liked TV that much anyway.

In the bedroom, she scanned the closet for appropriate patrolling attire, pausing briefly to run a finger over Jack's neatly ordered row of uniforms with a smile. How had she ever ended up with a military guy? She was going to have to ask him for the whole story one of these days. A glimmer of plastic caught her eye and she stepped over to pull it off the rack. A very familiar pair of black leather pants hung safely underneath the clear plastic, the smallest hint of dust along the top. A smirk lighting up her face, she tossed them over her arm and grabbed a shirt to go with it. It had been far too long since she'd worn those.

The leather fit just a little tighter than she remembered. Apparently it really had been a long time since she'd worn them. With a frown, she pulled on the crimson top, stuffed her feet into her favorite pair of riding boots and stood in front of the mirror. Yeah, that was her reflection all right. Except it wasn't. Stepping closer, she ran her eyes over the image critically, searching for differences to what was supposed to be there. The pants were a little snugger, but not enough to make her think she needed to change. She definitely wasn't going to miss her workout with Sam on Friday. Her hair was longer, reaching down her back in a heavy cascade of waves. Funny she hadn't noticed that before. Maybe it was simply that she'd had long hair all her life so the extra length hadn't really clicked in. But the biggest difference was in her face. Small lines wreathed the corners of her eyes, barely noticeable until she looked. Raising her eyebrows, three horizontal lines gently creased her forehead.

They were subtle, almost imperceptible changes, but she couldn't deny their existence. She really was older.

Stepping back, she gave a critical once-over to her outfit. Yep, patrol worth she was. Tossing off a mock salute, much like the one she'd given Jack early that morning, she turned on her heel and walked out the door. There were some supplies she needed.

An hour later she had three stakes tucked around her person and in her light jacket. One pocket held her cell phone, the ringer wisely turned off, while in the other was a small vial of holy water. She felt bad about the method she'd used to get it, but it was better to be over prepared.

The Jetta locked with a distinctive chirp as she pushed the button on the fob and folded the switchblade-like key into the closed position. She pulled her jacket tighter around her torso, tugging the zipper a little higher. The nights in Colorado were colder than she was used to, the dry heat of the day giving way to chilly darkness without any humidity to keep it bottled up. Checking one last time that her cell was muted, she made her way across the street to the cemetery. True darkness wouldn't fall for another half hour or so, but the shadows cast by the Rocky Mountains towering over the Springs would make it plenty easy for any vampire waiting to sneak out of a shelter.

After a quick check to make sure no one was around, she vaulted the fence, clearing it with a couple of inches to spare. She landed lightly, immediately moving out of the trellis pattern grate of the gate and headed for one of the spots she'd chosen that afternoon. If there was a vampire around, he'd probably be hiding out the daylight right . . .

The door to a small family tomb creaked open, a single head peeking around the edge.

. . . there.

Damn, she was good.

Moving as quickly as she could and still remain silent, Faith circled around the vampire. She scanned in every direction, her eyes constantly moving. There could be another vampire around.

Nothing jumped out at her as she closed in on the figure creeping from shadow to shadow. He never had a clue someone was behind him until she collided with his back and shoved him face-first into the cold stone of a seven foot granite pillar marker. Moving quickly while he was stunned, she twisted one arm behind his back, lifting him onto his toes and crushing him against the hard surface. "I have questions. You're going to give me answers."

The vampire struggled briefly to throw her off, but gave up with a shriek when she wrenched his wrist even higher up his back. Voice filled with an impotent fury, he spat out, "I don't have to give you anything."

"You're right. I could just stake you and find me a demon that's willing to be a little more helpful." To emphasize her words, she tugged the stake from her waistband and tapped it on the vampire's neck, the point clearly in his line of sight.

The vampire deflated without another protest. "What do you want to know?"

Vaguely disappointed by the ease of her victory, Faith didn't allow her grip to relax the smallest iota. "How many more of you are here?"

"Just three, but I haven't seen them for a couple of nights. They might have split by now. We're not real big on togetherness."

"Why did you pick this town?" She wasn't going to give him time to think about his answers. The faster she shot them out, the more truth she'd get in return.

"No competition to deal with. And if you can stomach the weird buzz in your bones, the lack of a Slayer makes this prime hunting ground. Unlike everywhere else nowadays."

The last bit was definitely bitter and Faith didn't restrain her smile. Score one more for Willow. "I want to know about the buzz. Do you know what it is?"

"No," the vampire said, starting to shrug before he remembered his arm was held securely behind his back. "You start to feel it about two miles outside of Colorado Springs. Whatever it is vibrates in your bones, very uncomfortable, painful really."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Every now and then the rattle drops. It doesn't ring anymore. And some of us are more resistant to it to begin with."

"Lucky you." While not good news for her, it did fill in a couple of gaps in her long list of unanswered questions. "Now what's this about no Slayer?"

"There isn't. Never has been. Everyone knows that."

She felt a grin pull at her lips and knew it wasn't a pleasant one. "There is now. And this is my town. You're going to pass the word for me."

"You're just going to let me go?"

"There's no 'just' about it. You're now on a mission for me. You have one night to get out of town. If any human dies in the Springs for the next forty-eight hours in a way I could even mistake for a vampire attack, I'm coming after you. I don't care if you're in California by then. I want every demon in four states to know. Stay out of my town. This Slayer's not going anywhere."

"What if I don't feel like passing on your little message?"

"I'll stake you and find a demon who will." The unequivocal emptiness in her voice did more to convince than her words. The vampire nodded frantically, what little she could see of his face a panicked mask of agreement. With one last twist of his arm she stepped back, ready for any lingering hints of defiance or stupidity. But the vampire simply turned slowly to look her in the eyes.

"And what specific Slayer am I spreading the good news for?"

She gave him a glare for the sarcasm, but didn't call him on it. "Faith." She'd never seen a vampire blanch before and if she hadn't witnessed it with her own two eyes she wouldn't have believed it. Apparently, he'd heard of her. "Make sure everyone knows. Weird buzz in the bones or not. Any demon shows fang around here and they'll find the short end of this before they can even think about dinner." She waved the stake for emphasis. "Now get out of here. Dawn comes early in the Springs."

He bolted into the darkness without another word. She felt a little guilty for letting him live, knowing he'd kill someone as soon as he made it out of the city limits, but she couldn't take out an add in the classifieds and this truly was the quickest way to get the word out on the demon grapevine. With a sigh, Faith tucked the stake back into place in her waistband. There was still a whole cemetery to canvass.

Five hours later, she sank into the Jetta's driver's seat with a sigh. Her messenger vampire had been telling the truth – there had been just the four of them. If any demon managed to escape her exceptionally thorough patrol of the city, she would hang up her stakes in disgrace. She turned the key a little too harshly at the thought and the engine leaped to life.

The drive back to the house was over too quickly, her brain still full of the information she'd learned and her body still coming down from the familiar high of patrolling, lack of action notwithstanding. Quickly checking for messages and finding none, she tossed her jacket and keys onto the bed. She stood motionless at the foot, eyeing the comforter. She wasn't tired, but knew if she didn't at least try to sleep she'd spend the whole night on the couch staring at the wall. It was a habit she was still trying to break years after her time in prison.

After stowing the stakes and holy water in the closet, Faith showered leisurely, allowing the hot water to sooth the remaining adrenaline from her muscles. Minty fresh teeth and towel dried hair later, she was buried under the comforter, curled onto her side.

The bed was just the right mix of soft and firm, the comforter was a pleasant weight and the room was dark and quiet. Everything she could have asked for in a bedroom. And yet something was still missing. Rolling onto her back, she stared up at the ceiling, eyes adjusting automatically to the dim light bleeding through the curtained windows.

It was too silent, too empty. The steady rhythm of a heart beating under her ear, the gentle motion of lungs rising and falling under her arm, they were missing. And, she realized with a moment of blind panic quickly shoved down, they were necessary.

No light bulb went off, no bolt of lightning struck, yet she knew it down deep inside. Faith had gone and done the impossible. She'd fallen in love with her husband.

Just three nights falling asleep in his arms and she was hooked, addicted. Three days spent with his sharp humor, his unconscious caresses, his little husbandly gestures and, most importantly, his unstinting belief in her, despite the worst possible introduction to her secret, had broken through every last plate of her formidable armor.

She lay unmoving in the dark, eyes staring blindly, body floating in a numb haze. Wasn't she supposed to feel a sense of euphoria? Maybe even a giddy happiness? Though she'd never experienced either emotion in her life, she was pretty sure the petrified feeling coursing through her veins couldn't be them. No, this was more like the first time she'd faced a vampire on her own. Her pulse thudded through every cell of her body, helping rather than hindering the floating sensation. And even though Jack was miles away physically, she felt naked, stripped of all defenses.

Was this really what love was supposed to be? A fear so bone deep she couldn't move? A baring of her soul, an inability to hide anything of herself – even the deep, dark ugly parts?

Faith forced one arm up to cover her eyes and drew three full breaths slowly, in and out, to calm her racing heart. There wasn't anything to be scared of. Really. Jack had told her he loved her. They were already married. She had no reason to worry.

Yet it was long into the darkest part of the night before she finally fell into a fitful slumber.

TBC