FIC The Nightstalkers (20/22)

"The pain!" the vampire screamed.

"Hush child," Ripper calmly stroked Tara's hair, an excited fission at the damage done to his beautiful toy. It wouldn't do for the wounds to be permanent of course, in no way did he wish for her to be impaired, but he did delight in the pain of others, it really added something to his day. "You're a vampire, you're strong. You will heal." He threw the torn top to the floor so that he could better ogle both her charms and wounds, the vampire shuddering submissively when he worked a finger into her shoulder wound. "Now why don't you get yourself a human from the pen to build your strength up?"

"Can I?" Tara queried, a playfully coy look entering her eyes.

"As if I could ever resist you," he replied with a smile. "And then when you've fed, I want you to research a spell for me."

"A spell?" Tara's eyes shone with excitement. "One interest the host and I share is learning new enchantments."

"Oh this spell's a doozy," he smirked. "It's called Nightshade."

* * *

Faith looked around the tension-filled hospital waiting room, the Nightstalkers, Holtz, and the mystery man and woman who'd just joined crammed into it, the only missing person that sleaze Parker Abrams. "So tell me again your plan?"

The man she was directing her gaze towards grimaced. "Sunday and her childes runs an abandoned frat house on the west end of UC. Sunnydale. There's her and about seven childes."

"And why haven't you dealt with these vampires before?" Wesley asked. Faith noted the Englishman kept his gaze averted from the two strangers and more weirdly her. Jesus, get your ass kicked saving a guy's life, does he say thank you? Fuck no, he gives you the cold shoulder.

Fuck him, Faith forced the hurt down deep. It had been forty-eight hours since her fight with Vocah and Tara kicking her ass, her wounds were healed and now she was lookin' forward to a rematch with Tara, and this time that bitch wouldn't catch her by surprise.

"Hitler tried to fight a war on two fronts, look what happened to him," Xander replied to Wes' question.

"A good point," Wesley conceded with a tight nod. "However we've only got a limited arsenal now."

"No we haven't," Cordelia put in. "My parents left Sunnydale years ago," Faith wondered at the bitterness in the girl's voice. "However I got daddy to sign his stables over to me, and there's a false floor in the stables where we keep our back-up equipment."

"Nice thinking," Faith praised.

Xander looked around. "Cordy, can you take Gunn, Holtz, Larry, and Owen up there and get some supplies. Meet us at the High School."

* * *

"I really hate bein' bait," Faith murmured as she slinked her way to the vampire den's front door, clad in her favourite black leather pants and two buttons open at the top and tied off at the bottom so plenty of midsection was showing black blouse. Unfortunately it made sense for the plan. The vamps, dumb sons of bitches that they were, were always gonna be more interested in helpin' a nice piece of ass rather than a guy. And it wasn't as if Harmony or Cor could handle themselves like she could. Tho' Harmony's dumb ditz act blew hers away.

Reaching the front door she let out a rattling sigh and knocked, putting her most winning smile in place and leaning forward slightly so the lucky demon who answered got an eyeful of the babies. "Yeah?" the grumpy growl turned to a full-grown leer when the door swung open and a gangly six-footer with the worse case of acne and pock-marking ever seen looked down her cleavage.

Jesus, Sunday was no Rhodes scholar if she turned this ugly mother-fucker.

Faith hid her distaste behind a gleaming smile. "Hey!" she trilled, channelling Harmony as much as possible. Hey, when tryin' to be a bimbo, aim low. "My car broke down just outside here," she shot a thumb over her shoulder while fluttering her eyelashes, "can I come in and phone for a mechanic."

"Well sure baby," the demon grinned back at her, pulling the door further open, "why don't -."

"Thanks," Faith swung her foot up and between the demon's legs, smirking viciously as the vampire doubled up, easy victim to her stake through the back. "HEY!" Faith let out a bellow as she stepped through the exploding vampire and into the grotty frat house. "It's the Avon Lady, I gotta your samples!"

The door at the hallway's far end burst open and a pair of stocky vampires charged out. Faith leapt into the air, flowing into a double drop-kick to the faces that took both demons down. Faith landed on top of the pair in a crouch, her stake jamming down into the right one's chest.

Even as he burst into dust, Faith began turning towards the other, only to be forced into a backwards at the waist sway away from a knee to the face from the now standing vampire. Powering up through her thighs, she leapt at the snarling vampire, grabbing it around the waist and pulling it to the ground. Faith grunted as its hands hammered down on her back, but ignored the pain to leap up its body to straddle its chest, drive a left into its face and the stake into its heart.

Then she was up and striding through into the lounge. The gang had already cleared it of vamps, dust and glass on the floor, the furniture over-turned. "Faith, you and Gunn come with me to check upstairs," Xander instructed. "Holtz, I want you, Wesley, and Cordy to check out the rest of the ground floor levels. Until we're sure there's no-one else left, I don't want anyone going anywhere alone."

* * *

"Boss, we got a human who wants to join up with us."

"A human?" Ripper raised an eyebrow as he idly stroked Joy-Joy's bloodied back, the Slayer's mother now vampire whimpering after his brutal beating. While they used Wanna-Bes to run errands for them during the day, it was unusual for a human to actively seek them out. "And what does he want?"

"He says he was rescued from three of us a few nights ago by the Slayer, says he knows where the Nightstalkers are making their new base," Penn reported.

"Well," he purred as he pushed Joy-Joy off his knee and to the floor, "that is interesting. Bring him in. You," he looked down at the sprawled woman, "go to Tara. Tell her I was interrupted during our 'fun-time', she'll know what to do."

"Yes Ripper." Joy-Joy nodded meekly before rising and rushing out.

The door had barely closed behind the last reminder of his wasted time as a Watcher when it opened again and Penn walked in, pushing a tall, brown-haired boy in his late teens before him. "This is Parker Abrams," Penn introduced before backing out of the room.

"Parker is it?" Ripper nodded sagely before supping at his goblet of wine. He didn't need the drink of course, he got no refreshment from it. But with his enhanced taste and smell it was the closest to heaven he'd ever more than likely reach. "And what information do you have for me?"

Parker licked his lips, Ripper's senses noting the sweat beginning to bead on the boy's forehead as he shuffled from foot to foot. "Everyone knows you're the power around here, the big cheese," the boy babbled, "well I want in. I've always wanted to be a player, power, girls, that sorta thing."

The brat wanted to make a deal? Ripper almost tore the little twit's head off right there and then. Instead he allowed his eyes to flash golden and his tone to harden to stone. "I may be immortal, but my patience isn't. I'm a vampire who likes his fun, I can have it either hunting the Slayer bitch down, or ripping the information from your screaming carcass." He rose. "Talk."

The boy flinched, curling up into himself as he shook. "S…sure," the boy nodded, "i…it was Xander's idea, there's a frat-house on the west side of UC Sunnydale, run by a vampire called Sunday."

"Ah yes," Ripper nodded. A minor player in Sunnydale, and one he'd planned to sweep up once the Nightstalkers were dealt with.

"Well they were gonna wipe her out tonight, take over her base."

"Were they indeed?" Ripper laughed softly, golden orbs shining as a plan formed. This could be most interesting. A vampire den that the new tenants didn't own, meaning the laws of invitation no longer stood. Oh the possibilities, his mouth watered with them.

Ripper glanced towards the trembling youth. "Thank you for your information and as for your payment." He blurred forward, grabbed the youth by the hair and twisted, the boy's neck audibly snapping. He chuckled as he released his grip, the boy falling limply to the ground. "The cheque's in the post."

* * *

Faith knocked on the door of the room that Wes had snagged as his own. "Hey," she spoke through the wood when Wesley failed to answer, "we haven't done any training in like days. Get your ass into gear."

After a few seconds the door opened a crack, Wesley glaring through the gap at her. "You're more than capable of training yourself."

Faith's eyes narrowed, she was gettin' real tired of gettin' the brush-off off of her Watcher. He was always babblin' on 'bout them bein' a team, where was the fuckin' team now? "Yeah?" she placed a hand on the door and shoved it open before stepping into the room and into Wes' space. "Sure I can, but you're my Watcher," she emphasised the point with a finger-jab to the Englishman's chest "supervising me is your job, dig?"

"Oh yes, I dig." The Englishman didn't flinch at her anger, rather his eyes filled with irritation. "However it's rather pointless isn't it? You don't have to obey me, the Council is gone, I have no authority over you."

"No authority?" Faith's brow furrowed in confusion. What the fuck was Wes talkin' 'bout? If he was smokin' some good shit, he really should be sharing it around. "This ain't 'bout authority, least I didn't think it was. I thought we were a team."

"We're a team," the man smiled weakly, "for as long as you deem me expedient and useful. Once I've outlasted my usefulness, doubtless you'll move on to more effective hunters."

Faith stared at the Watcher as she tried and failed to make sense of what he was saying. Finally she shrugged and went for blunt. "What the fuck are you on, Wes? Is this 'bout Holtz? 'Cause there's no way I'm dumpin' you for that grumpy bastard even if he did save my bacon!"

"Holtz?" Wesley shook his head. "No, it's Robin."

"Nottingham?" Faith shook her head as she considered the black man who'd arrived with Justine Cooper, a hunter from LA. All in all, the guy had a studly body but a personality that'd make cardboard look interesting. "What about him?"

"He's the son of a Slayer-."

"Say what!!!" Faith exclaimed before taking half a back-step. Kids weren't her, but the idea of a Slayer being a mom was wow.

"His mother got pregnant at age 14 and had him in 1970 before she was Called. She was Called in 1974, just after her eighteenth birthday, quite the freak event apparently, and died in 1977 at the hands of an unknown vampire." Wesley paused. "Because of his 'celebrity' in Watcher circles, he was allowed into the academy the same year I joined, despite being two years younger. Despite his youth, Robin always was better at the physical side of Watcher training."

Oh, Faith kinda got it now. "So what if he's better at the physical stuff?" she soothed. "I need you for your brain anyhow, and I spent three years gettin' you trained so you're just the way I want ya." Her grin was met by a blank stare. "Jesus, Wes, all the shit you said 'bout me and you bein' more than Slayer and Watcher, it's just bullshit ain't it!"

"Faith-."

"Ah, go fuck yourself!" Spinning on her heel, she stormed off.

* * *

"Faith-." Wesley shook his head as the sultry beauty stalked away. He knew he should go after her, but these days it seemed as if his motivation wasn't there. He just didn't care anymore. What was the point of caring when you were about to lose everything you cared about anyway?

"You are a fool."

Wesley sighed as Holtz stepped out of the shadows at the corridors' far end. "I don't have time-."

"One always has time for the truth," the vampire-hunter interrupted. "That girl has a rough manner, but her heart bled for you when you were entranced. She might conduct herself as a harlot, but her heart is that of a warrior. She may not say it in her woods, but she esteems you in her actions." With that, the eighteenth century man stalked off in the direction the Slayer had fled.

Wesley shook his head. "I wish I could believe that," he whispered.

* * *

Faith scowled as she tried her Tai Chi, only speeding up to roughly about five times as fast as a mediating person would do it, using it as a fighting art rather than the relaxation tool it really was. Sweat gleamed on her as she continued, breathing easily despite the long minutes she'd been training.

"Hey, your technique looks a little bit off, I guess Wes didn't teach it you right, huh?"

Faith flowed to a halt before turning towards the speaker, her eyes narrowed at the perceived insult to her Watcher. "Honey, if I gave you marks on your 'technique', you'd just about die of embarrassment."

Wood grinned, unfazed by her putdown. "I don't embarrass easily." Wood replied before turning serious. "I always wanted to meet a Slayer, see if they were as fierce as I remembered."

"Now we've had this conversation, you have," Faith began to turn back to training.

"Always wanted to be a Watcher for one too, seems that's unlikely now, unless you know someone who might wanna switch over."

Oh he just to bring it out into the open. "Yeah?" Faith turned towards the black man, flashing him an insincere but gleaming smile. "Figure you're all that do you?"

Wood shrugged and returned her smile with one of his own. "Figure I'm better than what you've got." The demon hunter's eyes travelled her body before returning to her eyes. "Yeah, I like what I see. But with me on team, it could go so much better."

"I got a Watcher," Faith replied. "And he ain't second to no-one, and I hear anyone talking shit to or 'bout him, I put them down fast and hard, you dig?"

Wood blanched at her hard tone. "I dig."

"Good, now get the fuck outta my sight, I got trainin' to do."

* * *

"So you're Jay-Don?"

"That I am," his guest nodded. "And you're like the big cheese around here?"

"The cheesiest," Ripper agreed with a smile. His guest was a powerfully built man of above average height, with combed back black hair and expensive sunglasses, a cocksure smirk seemingly stuck on his face. The man was garishly dressed, his suit obviously custom-made, but the jacket and pants' superior cut ruined by the eye-blinding yellow they were made of. "Thank you for making it here promptly."

"Yeah." The man chewed at some imaginary gum in his mouth as he nodded. "One thing you learn growing up in the mob is the chain of command. What's cookin' good lookin'?"

Jay-Don might not look like much, and had been turned barely half a century ago. But his blood-splattered past as a button-man for Bugsy Siegel made him uniquely equipped to become an efficiently murderous vampire, one whose reputation preceded him and had spread far beyond Nevada's sandy borders. "What's cookin' is a rather irritating Slayer," he replied. "She's been a thorn in my side for rather too long and I'm planning an expulsion."

"Expulsion hey, I did a few of those back in the day for Bugsy," Jay-Don fiddled with his sleeves before looking up at him, "I'm like your man for the job, boss."

"I'm glad to hear it," Giles nodded. With Jay-Don, James, and Elizabeth's addition to his forces, he had more than replaced the Masters he had lost to the Nightstalkers, and soon it would be time to strike back, and wipe them out completely. "Now be a good chap and go into the club, I'm sure you can find something to play with in our pen."

"Thanks man, you're a real gem."