FIC: The Nightstalkers (21/22)

"So this is Sunnydale?" George took a deep breath as he stopped his truck and climbed out to look around the small, peaceful town, his crossbow held under his denim jacket. "Air's better than LA's. Can see why Gunn left LA for the burbs with that babe."

"Be careful. It might look like its no big deal but," George looked over his shoulder to their group's solitary white member, "Buffy always said in her letters that this place was real bad news."

"You haven't heard from her in years right?" Rondell queried.

"Two years at least," Pike agreed, his eyes haunted.

"'Kay," George nodded, "what we do is-."

"What you do is," George blinked when a devastatingly beautiful brunette with mocking eyes appeared seemingly out of nowhere, "is tell me how you know about Summers and why you're here packing all the hardware you are?"

"And," a bespectacled man stepped out of the bushes by his truck, "I'm afraid we'll have to insist."

"We?" George's eyes widened when people seemed to appear out of the bushes on both sides of the streets, casually yet firmly encircling them.

"When you drove past here the third time we got suspicious," explained a young yet weathered-looking man. "The fact it's still light is in your favour, but you wouldn't be the first humans hired to do a vamp's dirty work. And you seem to know an awful lot about Slayers for newbies."

"I would advise you be fast with your answers," a dangerous looking man with a creepy voice commented. "Otherwise the alternatives might be serious."

"Relax guys," George felt some of the tension leave him when Gunn walked out of the shadows. "I know these dawgs. Pike, George, Rondell, good to see your ugly mugs."

* * *

"I've done it! I've done it!"

Giles paused from beating a tied by her hands to the ceiling Joy Joy with a chain to look towards an excitedly trilling Tara. "And what," he stepped towards his princess and cupped her cheek in his hands, the sobs of the Slayer's mother sweet music to his ears, "have you done my dear?"

"The spell!" Tara jumped up and down on the spot, dead eyes still managing to gleam with pride. "It works." Tara cast her gaze coyly down. "Only there's a problem."

"A problem?" Giles' heart leapt into his throat as he grabbed the witch's mane and yanked her head back. "Don't play games bitch!" His eyes flashed golden. "Tell me what you're talking about or you'll be the next to feel my chain!"

Tara whimpered. "We have to sacrifice three powerful black arts mages to power the enchantment."

"Why," Giles smirked, his good humour returning as he released his grip, "that's no problem at all. I have just the three."

* * *

Ethan hummed happily as he read the leather-bound volume before him. Ever since his turning his demon had increased his magical powers to undreamed levels, the demonic energy both focusing his power and gifting him with greater stamina, in addition to giving him ever more warped ideas. He started suddenly as he belatedly registered a presence behind.

He blanched inwardly as he turned and found himself being watched by the delectably deadly Tara. The apparently bats beauty was smiling at him and swaying from side to side almost as if being buffeted by a wind that only she could feel. "Miss McClay," Ethan nodded respectfully. He'd always had the highly honed sense of self-preservation that stopped him from irritating those higher in the pecking order than himself.

"Mr. Rayne." He was surprised when the witch giggled and ruffled his hair. "How are you my sweet?" the beauty smiled coyly. "Have you been using your magic? Experimenting with new spells?"

Off balance, Ethan looked away from the witch. In the past Ripper had always reacted with jealous violence when anyone had messed with his chits and that was before his possession had increased his volatility. "Oh shy Ethan," Tara giggled. "What are you reading?"

Ethan forced his gaze to meet his fellow demon's eyes. "Just some research, some spells I might want to try."

"Ah inventiveness," Tara nodded. "It's just a shame."

"What is-." Ethan grunted when the vampire hit him square on the jaw, the force of the blow lifting him from his seat and flinging him over the table to crash to the ground on the other side. The stars had barely begun to clear from his eyes when Tara bounded over the table and drove her heel into his face, bones shattering under the impact.

* * *

"One of Ripper's boys aren't you?" Rack commented as he stood aside from the doorway to his place of business. "Don't usually get you people in here. Not exactly birds of feather."

"Yeah," Angelus stalked through the door, a disdainful look on the demon's face.

"So," Rack shuffled nervously from foot to foot. "How can I help the great Ripper?" Rack was under no illusions, the only reason he still survived in Sunnydale was because of Ripper's sufferance, he didn't want Ripper to have any reason to be angered by him.

Angelus stopped, his brow furrowing. "There was something." Pain exploded in Rack's head when Angelus drove an elbow into the side of his head, his knees buckling under the impact. "Oh yeah." Air gusted from his body when the vampire kicked him in his ribs. "He'll take your life." His mouth opened in a desperate casting, but before he could a word Angelus' arm was looped around his neck, choking him into unconsciousness.

* * *

Doc pulled on his dressing gown, scowling slightly at the nagging knocking on his door. "Who is it?"

"Jay-Don," a deep voice replied. "I'm here for Ripper, the big cheese needs something for some magic ceremony."

"Oh," Doc hurried to the door, trepidation filling him. He didn't like being awoken late for anyone, but for Ripper, that was different. It was the way of the world that people made allowances for the powerful. "Just give me a second."

His hand shook slightly as he grasped the front door handle and pulled it open to find a flamboyantly attired man who insisted on wearing sunglasses despite the lateness of the hour. "Come in, come in," he impatiently beckoned the demon inside. "Now how can I help Ripper."

"Well," Jay-Don swept a hand through his hair as he talked, "it's like this." The vampire turned up his red jacket's collar as he talked. "Ripper needs your body." Doc's mouth had barely begun opening in shock when Jay-Don grabbed him by the front of his dressing gown and threw him into the wall, knocking him and a stack of shelves to the ground. Doc groaned as he felt the shelves being lifted off him. "This ain't nothing personal," Jay-Don commented as he flung the shelves across the room. "Just business."

"Oh," Doc ignored his bruised body to leap up at the vampire, "when you try and kill me it's entirely personal!"

Jay-Don swayed away from his attack, his knee coming up to crash into Doc's stomach. Doc wheezed as he doubled up, the vampire grabbing him by his shoulder and flinging him face first into the wall. Doc grunted as he hit the wall, managing to twist away from a kick to the back, but not from a backfist to the face that had his knees buckling. He caught the vampire with an elbow to the side of the head, but the vampire just responded with another knee to the gut that doubled him up into a front facelock that left him slumped in the man's arms.

* * *

"So this is Sunnydale?" Pike shook his head. "Can't see why you left our guys for the 'burbs."

Gunn shook his head, the house's other inhabitants having diplomatically left them alone in the lounge to have their talk. "I didn't leave you guys, but the shit goin' down here is important!"

"As important as your gang?" Rondell shook his head. "You'd leave us for a piece of ass? Man, I thought we knew you."

"That ain't right!" Gunn hotly defended, stung by the insinuation that he was disloyal. But then Rondell always was pushy, quick to mistrust someone. "You know how things have got worst over the past few years?" He continued before anyone could comment. "It's cause of this place-."

"Tell me this ain't about that Faith chick?" George shot back.

"It ain't-." He scowled at the others' snorts of derision. "Okay, it was, but this is different now, we ain't even datin' or knockin' bodies."

"Different how?" Rondell pressed.

"It turns out the guy who runs vampires in this town used to be a major player on the good side," Gunn explained. "He was this Buffy's Watcher, a decent fighter, the master of a ton of occult lore, and a bad ass mage. When he got turned, it made a hell of a vampire, a real vicious, dangerous bastard."

"So?" Rondell shook his head. "That's not our problem."

"It is, it's everyone's problem," Gunn argued. "He doesn't just run vampires in this town, he runs them throughout the world and his influence and authority is growing all the time."

"Ah bullshit," Rondell shook his head. "No vampire has that sorta power."

"This one does," Gunn insisted. "You've all noticed how organised they're getting, how they sweep people off the streets. That's cause of this cat, here!"

"Even if this is right," Pike sounded doubtful. "That just means we should be with the others, holding the vamps back from what's ours."

"No," Gunn protested. "We need to be here, dealing with -."

"You sayin' you're stayin' here?" George interrupted, his eyes hard.

"No," Gunn shook his head, "I'm sayin' this is where the fight really is."

"This ain't where the gang is," Rondell rose. "I thought you knew that."

"I know that, but I'm doing this for the gang," Gunn struggled to hold on to his temper. "For all of us."

"Well while you're doing that," Pike shook his head as he and George joined Rondell in standing, "we'll keep care of your people for you."

"Damn it!" Gunn's temper snapped as he stepped towards Pike. "Have you heard anything I said?"

"I heard you wanna stay here and not go home," Rondell spat.

Gunn took a breath and stepped back. "Fine, get out of here."

George cast him a look as he followed the others out of the room. "Be seein' you."

Gunn's stomach hollowed as he watched his friends leave. Somehow he knew he'd never see them again, but he forced a nonchalant expression. "Whatever."

* * *

Ripper watched avidly as Tara cast the spell. The witch was stood in the centre of a triangle, its points made up by the three gagged and hog-tied mages. Tara's own eyes were blindfolded as she chanted in a mixture of Persian, Latin, Greek, and Aramaic. The witch dropped a selection of herbs into the bubbling cauldron before her, then pulled out a curved, ornate-handle brass knife and sliced across her palm, hissing slightly as her blood dripped into the cauldron.

Ripper turned his head away as the basement exploded in a blinding light that caused firecrackers to ignite before his eyes. "Bloody hell," he mumbled as he blinked his eyes clear to see that Rayne had disintegrated into ash and there was nothing left of the demon mages but their twisted skeletons.

"Did it work?!" Tara tore her blindfold off and peered around, eyes filled with a maniacal hope. "Did it work? Did it work?"

Even as Tara repeated her question for a third time, Angelus strode in, a stunned expression on the Irish vampire's face. "It worked, boss. Dawn's over, its pitch black again, dark as Hades out there."

Ripper smirked. The spell would only last for twenty-four hours, but that would be more than enough for what he had planned. "Angelus, send the boys to Sunday's and wipe out the vermin."