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Chapter 13- Stay at Monster Island
Though the patchwork village that was the main population center of Questral likely had places where such a meeting might be held, the Assemblage gathered for their public deliberations in an open-air structure built like a Roman forum. There was a central floor that looked as though it had been created with performance in mind, but a carved-stone dais had been constructed at its center, and it was upon this that the Assemblage met.
Wesley and Bobby glanced around and marveled at the place as Zeke led them inside the circular forum.
Willow and Xander hung back, speaking quietly to each other, but Cordelia, Dean, Piper, Paige, Leo and Lorne kept a brisk pace, staying close to Wesley and Bobby.
"Why do I feel like we're about to be thrown to the lions?" Cordelia whispered.
"Because the place has a gladiator-type feel, at least to me", Dean muttered grimly.
As they followed Zeke across the vast forum, like the town lit by both electric lamps and torches, as well as the illumination of the moon and stars, Wesley and Leo studied the audience that already had begun to gather in the galleries around them.
The first two rows, all the way around the circle, were occupied by marble-skinned, black-eyed demons that resembled the Sage, Ephraim. Behind them were a great many Yill demons. Other races of great number were staggered behind those, until the last few rows—even though there were nearer empty seats—were packed with a menagerie of various types of demons.
"Zeke," Wesley whispered. "I'm curious. There appears to be a hierarchy in the seating arrangements."
The Miquot demon's fin gleamed in the light as he turned to Wesley without breaking stride. "More than a hierarchy. A caste system. For the most part, it's majority rule. That's how the Assemblage is decided. The five most populous species are represented . . . along with Garth."
"Garth?" Leo asked. "Who is he now?"
Zeke shrugged and brought the conversation back to the topic at hand. "Beyond sheer numbers, there's also a pecking order that's based more on what you'd call class. Caste system isn't far off. Your vampire wouldn't even be allowed in the forum, but there are species who are only given seats because the law of the island says no one can be turned away. Doesn't mean there aren't demons who'd like to change the law."
Wesley was horrified. "Which would make them little better than Axtius," he whispered as they approached the dais at the center of the forum with Bobby.
"Guess there is little self-awareness in people", Piper shrugged, also joining them with Paige.
Behind them, Cordelia, Dean and Lorne had moved closer and were listening to the conversation alongside Leo.
"Except the islanders may be snobs, but they don't kill over it," Cordelia pointed out.
"But maybe they'd like to," Lorne noted quietly.
Zeke shot them all a warning glance and turned his attention to the dais.
"Think its best if we shut up about this", Leo whispered to the rest.
Willow and Xander were still whispering to each other, and Wesley looked over his shoulder at them. He caught Willow's eye, and she quickly shushed Xander, and then the ten of them, with Zeke as ambassador, stood quietly in front of the dais and waited.
The breeze brought tropical island scents as well as a hundred other more exotic aromas. Hundreds of demons had filed into the galleries that looked down upon the forum, and more still were coming in.
The Assemblage appeared to be waiting for more of them to arrive, and so Wesley and Leo took the opportunity to make a closer study of the ruling body of Questral themselves. The Assemblage had seats upon the dais, but they had foregone them at the moment, clustered together as they hissed and muttered, obviously discussing their strange visitors and the ominous message they had brought.
The group recognized Ephraim the Sage immediately, his height and skeletal frame making him impossible to miss. Also with him was the sorcerer Dai'shu, with the long torso particular to Yill demons and the circle of spines that jutted back from his skull like a Native American headdress, distending his features.
There was a Bazhripa—one of the six-armed, red-eyed warriors that had first confronted them when they docked—but this one was a female. She wore a crested iron helmet and a bronze breastplate. Beside her was another female, a green-tinted woman who seemed to be floating. There was something beautiful about her, despite the hue of her skin, and though her long hair seemed to twist Medusa-like around her body, they thought she was naked.
As the breeze blew, she seemed to ripple with it and when she turned slightly they realized that they could see through her. A Vapor, Wesley thought, surprised that one of the many disembodied demons—those commonly known to possess human beings—would be accepted by the others and not relegated to the lower castes. She floated there, a stunning, nude woman, nothing but a cloud of greenish mist.
Wesley had to force himself to look away. He and Leo glanced around the forum in search of other Vapors. There were none visible, but Wesley knew that the disembodied demons were only seen when they wanted to be or when they were powerless to prevent it.
"She's something, isn't she? A real angel." Flushing as though he had been caught at something, Wesley turned to find that Lorne had come up beside him. The Host had whispered, but Wesley was still embarrassed. He frowned to cover up his reaction and fiddled with his glasses.
"I'm not sure 'angel' is the word I'd choose."
Zeke shot them a cautionary look, and Wesley nodded back at him.
"There were supposed to be five," he said to Lorne, dropping his voice even further. "I count four."
"Take another look, my friend," the Host replied. He nodded his head toward the dais. "He's the only one already seated."
Wesley and the rest stared for a moment at the seats up on the dais. It took them a moment to realize that Lorne was right. The tall, wooden chair second from the left was turned sideways to face the others as they conferred. At that angle they had missed it at first, for the final member of the Assemblage was a demon little more than two feet tall, a savage-looking beast with a back covered in quills.
They'd seen these things when they had first arrived, like porcupines carrying swords, and thought they looked almost comical. But one glimpse of this thing with its upward jutting needle teeth and a cruel sneer on its features, and they were no longer ready to dismiss them.
"Ixwik demon. Blacksmiths and armorers, usually. Vicious little buddies," Lorne whispered.
Cordelia whapped Wesley on the arm. "Would you two please shut up!" she hissed. Wesley wanted to protest—after all, Lorne had been doing most of the talking—but Cordelia was right.
Zeke obviously thought they should be silent out of respect for the Assemblage. But it was difficult for him and some others to suppress his fascination by the different species and the mixed cultures that they had discovered on Questral.
"Well, idjits, time to listen now", Bobby whispered.
At Cordelia's and Bobby's words, the sorcerer, Dai'shu, glanced up sharply. A moment later Ephraim the Sage nodded to the others, and they began to take their seats. The crowd had been muttering to one another, the combined effect creating a drone of voices all around them, but now it ceased completely, and silence fell over the forum.
The group had a moment to wonder how many demons lived here, how large Questral was overall, and how long the island had been a sanctuary. Then Ephraim slapped a palm on the table in front of him and all other thoughts were driven from the group's mind.
The palm-slap seemed to be ritual, a way to call the gathering to order. The other four members of the Assemblage gave Ephraim their attention. The old demon cleared his throat, wide black eyes scanning the surrounding audience. Then he frowned and looked down at Zeke.
"Ambassador," Ephraim said. "We will hear you now."
"That's big of him," Xander muttered.
WHACK!
Xander held his head in pain, Dean giving him a glare, having beaten Willow to shutting him up as she was going to stomp on his foot with hers.
Zeke stepped forward. Though he had been wearing a cable knit sweater, inexplicably he pulled it over his head, snagging it for a moment on the fin atop his skull. He tied it around his waist, and Wesley stared a moment at the pale yellow complexion of his flesh. Clearly this was more ritual, but a ritual of the Assemblage or of the Miquot he did not know. He hoped it was a Miquot thing, because he doubted Cordelia, Willow, Piper and Paige were going to be stripping to the waist, no matter what the stakes.
"Venerable Ephraim," Zeke began, bowing his head. "Honored Assemblage. These individuals, human and demon alike, have traveled from Los Angeles to offer their assistance to us in what may well be our darkest hour, though we do not know it yet. Others are on the way, including the vampire with a soul, Angel—who helped save the lives of a large number of those who live here on the island, one remaining Charmed One—and Buffy Summers, the Slayer."
A ripple of murmured comments went through the crowd at this revelation.
"Unthinkable!" Dai'shu barked.
Zeke paused only a moment before continuing. "May I then present Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, two of the Charmed Ones Piper Halliwell and Paige Matthews, Xander Harris, Leo Wyatt, Krevlornswath of the Deathwok Clan, the sorceress Willow Rosenberg, and Cordelia Chase, the Princess of Pylea."
As they were named, Wesley and the others each gave some gesture of respect, from Dean's casual salute to Lorne's deep bow to Willow's tiny wave. When Cordelia was named there was even a small smattering of applause from the crowd.
"I have served as Questral's ambassador to the world outside for twenty-seven years," Zeke added. "Never in that time have I brought a human being to these shores. I would not have begun now if the situation were not grave. You have heard the warning these people bring already, but now I must lend it my support. Events have begun to unfold in Los Angeles that make me believe wholly that they speak the truth. The Brachen demon Axtius is gathering an army of pure-bloods. With him are the three powerful magicians Satanel, Addwaitya and Hex."
That caused gasps all around. While Addwaitya and Hex weren't known to many, as they amassed power in secret, Satanel was nothing but horrible news.
"This is part of a much larger plan to eliminate those of us they call half-breeds, and any pureblood who might ally themselves with so-called lesser races. There is a larger scheme at work that will reveal itself in time. All that need concern us at the moment is this: Very soon, General Axtius, Satanel, Addwaitya and Hex will bring their army here. They intend to eradicate our settlement completely and kill all who reside upon this island."
A roar went through the stands, gasps and shouts and outbursts rippling around the forum, especially due to Satanel's mention. The people of Questral might not believe humans, Wesley mused, and many of them had likely only just heard what news the outsiders had brought, but they would believe Zeke.
Dai'shu stood from his seat upon the dais and raised his hand. A flash of golden light streamed from his fingers. It was silent, but achieved the desired effect of calming the gathered demons and getting them to focus once more.
"And you, venerable Ephraim," Dai'shu said, inclining his head to the Sage, "what do you say?"
But before Ephraim could speak, the Bazhripa female leaned over the dais to glare down at them.
"Why should we believe them?" she snarled, red eyes glowing more brightly. "Humans!" she spat.
The Ixwik demon stood on its high chair, quills standing up like a peacocks feathers. "Shikah speaks truth," it growled, its voice difficult to understand. "Humans is vermin. Least of the lesser. Almost as bad as vampires."
Willow took a step forward. For all that she had wanted to silence Xander, it appeared that she could not now remain quiet herself.
"We're vermin? But you speak our language. You're speaking English."
Zeke glared at Wesley, obviously wanting him to shut Willow up, but Wesley knew that it was useless. The witch was a gentle soul and always had been. She had a slow fuse, but once it had burned down, it was best to just get out of the way. The Ixwik raised its nose as if being addressed by a human were beneath the demon. But the Bazhripa, Shikah, was not willing to ignore this affront.
"Most of us on this island lived in your world first. English is the only language many of our races have in common. It is considered the low speech, but at gatherings of the Assemblage it is necessary." The six-armed female sneered at Willow. "Speak up again without being spoken to, and I will have you killed."
Ephraim slapped his palm against the table three times, obviously calling for order. The others relented, though obviously with great reluctance. When the sensual Vapor rippled in the breeze, her hair floating back behind her, and turned to Ephraim, Wesley thought that every creature in the forum held its breath.
"We are being poor hosts, venerable one," she said, her voice a hush like wind through the trees. "If our ambassador gives credence to the claims of these outsiders and they truly have come to offer their aid, the least we ought to offer in return is courtesy." As the Vapor finished speaking, a tremor shook the ground beneath their feet.
Wesley and Leo saw on their friends' faces that they were as startled as they were. However when they glanced at Zeke they were surprised to find that the Miquot demon seemed not even to have noticed. Another tremor, this one more subtle, rumbled through the forum. Cordelia and Piper gasped and their eyes widened, and Wesley and Leo followed their line of sight to discover what had elicited their astonishment. Wesley's mouth opened in a little O of surprise, as Leo was simply surprised.
"Good Lord," Wesley muttered.
"I agree", Leo told him.
Beyond the highest wall at the back of the forum, above the last of the galleries, a single bright orange eye stared down at the proceedings. The members of the Assemblage turned toward the Cyclopean monstrosity with curious expressions. The thing rose up higher, revealing that its head consisted of that single eye, a mass of serpentine tentacles that squirmed out from the place a mouth ought to have been, and a skull laden with fissures from which flames jetted in spurts.
"What are we seeing here?" Wesley asked Zeke.
The Miquot shot Wesley a quizzical look. "That? Oh, that's Garth. I thought I'd mentioned him. He's the sixth member of the Assemblage."
"Okay," Xander whispered, coming up behind Wesley. "Why am I getting the feeling that we're going to be fed to that thing now?"
"Because they probably want us to be fed to it", Dean shrugged.
"Too many Japanese monster movies," Willow whispered in reply.
"Its an Old One", Leo revealed to them. "That's what we have here."
"Never thought I'd see one in person", Piper said in a whisper.
Cordelia tapped Wesley on the arm. "Maybe just me, but I don't remember a single reference in all our research to one of the Great Old Ones not trying to end the world in fiery apocalypse."
"Eh", Bobby shrugged. "The Devil tried it and was stopped. I imagine given time we could stop one of these too."
Zeke shushed them again. Properly chastened, Wesley replied to Cordelia in the lowest whisper from the corner of his mouth, unable to tear his gaze away from the sixth member of the Assemblage. "First time for everything, I suppose. Though it's possible that. . . Garth ... is not one of the Old Ones at all."
"That'd be a good hope to have", Paige whispered back.
With a rumble that sounded like a rockslide, a voice issued from amidst the mass of tentacles upon the Old One's face. The Assemblage and all of the islanders gathered seemed to be listening intently To Wesley and Leo it did not sound like language at all.
"What's he saying?" Wesley asked Zeke.
Which was when Lorne stepped up beside Wesley and laid a comforting hand across his shoulders. "Don't get your knickers in a bunch. The Big Ugly's on our side. He thinks they oughta give us the benefit of the doubt."
Leo glanced at him. "You understood that?"
Lorne shrugged. "Hey, you wanted me to translate. I'm translating."
There was a brief, whispered conference amongst the Assemblage, and then Ephraim stood, his enormous black eyes gleaming. "Very well. We have decided. You will be given quarters for the night and allowed your freedom while you remain our guests. All save the captive vampire. In the morning we will return our judgment as to whether we will trust this warning and accept your help. Meanwhile, we suggest you look to our ambassador for guidance as to how to conduct yourselves while on the island."
"Of course," Wesley replied, inclining his head in a sort of curt bow. "Thank you."
Cordelia sniffed. "What are we thanking them for again?" she whispered under her breath.
"Not eating us, for starters," Willow replied.
"Not much to be thankful for, but you get the point", Piper shrugged.
"I hate it when we're at the mercy of things that could eat us", Dean snarled.
A quartet of Bazhripa warriors approached, and they all fell silent. Zeke and the Bazhripa escorted them from the forum to get them settled in their quarters for the night. Wesley and Leo did not want to express their alarm to the others, but it had occurred to both that if the Assemblage decided not to trust them, Xander and Willow's concern about becoming part of the islanders' diet might not be too far from the truth.
Both kept a pleasant smile on their faces, but only with a tremendous effort.
The island was beautiful. Lorne knew he ought to be more alarmed—things certainly weren't going as according to plan at this point—but he could not help being captivated by his surroundings. The trees and the tropical breeze, the smell of the ocean ... it was all so wonderful. But he knew there were other reasons the place appealed to him. Despite the obvious racial issues that divided the demon species on Questral, they seemed to live in peace and be relatively accepting of one another.
They took their neighbors at face value, not asking them to be anything they were not. It was so different from the way he had been raised, which was half the reason he had left Pylea in the first place. What he had tried to create at Caritas, that kind of environment, seemed to exist here on the island as well. It touched him deeply.
His services as a translator had not been as vital as he had expected, but he was now glad that he had come. This place deserved a chance to survive. Not that he was going to be doing much of the actual defending, but Questral was worth fighting for.
"Lorne?" Wesley prodded. The Host raised an eyebrow and turned to him.
"Huh?"
Wesley sighed in frustration. "What did he say?"
"Oh, sorry Wes. My mind's wandering. Gotta rein it in." Lorne glanced up at the trees again . . . and above the trees, at the Old One called Garth. The ancient demon was huge, perhaps fifty-five feet high, and despite the tentacles on its face it had a body that reminded him mostly of a giant mantis, with its thin insectoid body and limbs. Though its trunk glowed the same orange as its single eye, the fire that leaked out of its head did not seem to spill out anywhere else.
Zeke had arranged for Wesley and Leo to have a chat with Garth, and the two had asked Lorne to translate for him.
With a pair of Bazhripa warriors as guides, they had trekked to the cavern where Garth made his home and found the enormous, ominous demon to be very welcoming. Wesley and Leo had just asked what it was like on the earth when humanity first appeared. Garth had seemed to hesitate—Lorne guessed he did not want to offend the two with the obvious response, which would be that humans were merely a nuisance at the beginning—but in that moment of hesitation, Lorne's mind had begun to wander.
"Garth, my apologies," Lorne said, his voice low and grinding, the language of the Old One much like speaking German with a mouth full of gravel. "Could you repeat that?"
The ancient demon lowered its trunk down, its flaming head sparking, its huge orange eye unblinking. The tentacles at its face really did take the place of a mouth, Lorne had noticed, as each one of them seemed to have a tiny mouth of its own, and they spoke in unison.
"It was as though a new weed had begun to grow in the garden of our world," Garth said. "A weed we could not kill, for everywhere we plucked it from the ground, it spread faster and farther."
Lorne quickly translated for Wesley and Leo, but saw that the men were deeply unsettled by Garth's comments.
"You two all right?"
"As well as I can be", Leo said, shaking his head. "Its just that…."
Wesley took over. "It sounds a great deal like what more advanced human civilizations have been doing to native populations in various parts of the world for millennia."
Lorne offered a reluctant nod in return. "It is in your nature."
Wesley and Leo stared at the Old One, the awe they felt plain on their faces. "It's so strange being able to talk to him. Who ever thought an opportunity like this would present itself. Strange . . . but also terrifying. It's a chilling perspective on history. I've always known that the world once belonged to demons, but for the first time I really know it. It feels like the truth in a way it never did before. It's most unsettling."
Lorne began to translate.
"Stop!" Wesley snapped. "Don't translate that!"
"Sorry. Any other questions for the big guy?"
"Nope, I think we know all we needed to, as disturbing as it is", Leo commented grimly.
Wesley added. "Just thank him for his time. And for giving us the benefit of the doubt earlier."
Willow stood outside a thatched-roof hut in the Bazhripa village where she, Cordelia, Piper and Paige were to sleep for the night.
A group of Demon children had gathered around Cordelia. Apparently they were part of the species Cordelia, Angel and Doyle had saved from the Scourge. They looked at Cordelia as a hero, affection for her in them, while she indulged them with a patience and kindness that surprised Willow, showing the redhead in person how different current Cordy was from high school Cordy.
Piper and Paige had joined her too. The former was a mother herself, so she was great with kids, regardless of the age, as in her mind, it prepared her for when Wyatt and Chris would get older. The children had a ball with her too. Paige was quite good with them as well, because she'd spent time with Wyatt and Chris, her nephews. All three women were having fun with the kids, though Cordy playing with them would stay with Willow for a long time.
"Okay, evil munchkins," Cordelia said, pushing her hair back away from her face. "Auntie Cordy needs her beauty rest. Maybe we can play some more tomorrow, a little game I like to call stab the nasty invading demon with a sharp, pointy stick."
"And we all hope you're very good at it", Piper added.
The kids barely understood them and hesitated.
"Go on", Paige added with a grin. "See you all later."
The kids went off as the women started going towards their huts, Cordelia now noticing Willow having watched her, and acted nonchalant, as if embarrassed.
"You, Angel and Doyle saved them, right?" Willow asked, Cordelia nodding. "What was he like?"
"Who?" Cordelia inquired.
"Doyle", Willow said, then noticed the pain on Cordelia's face and instantly felt guilty. "You don't have to say anything if you don't want to."
Cordy shook her head, assuring Willow it was fine, a fond smile now appearing on the woman's face while memories of the half-Brachen flashed in her mind.
"He was an idiot, a lovable, Irish idiot. Before he found out he was all spikey, Doyle was a teacher, even volunteered in soup kitchens, had a wife, and wanted a family. But it changed when his Brachen side came through."
"What happened?" Willow inquired.
"What else happens when you get hit with a bomb like that? He spiraled. Drinking, gambling, shut off from everyone, he was like a more miserable Angel. It changed when another half-Brachen asked for his help, but Doyle still couldn't handle that side of him, turned the guy away. Then he got his first, migraine-inducing vision, and found out the guy who asked for his help, was dead, along with the whole clan. Doyle was haunted from then on, and decided with the visions, along with a little help from moi and Angel, assembled and formed our own gang, our team. Helping the helpless wherever they may be. Saved a lot of people thanks to Doyle, lives got harder but more worth while. I don't regret joining Angel Investigations, even if it did come with these brain blasting visions."
"Sounds like you were a hell of team", Piper noted.
"We were. Of course, that dummy still didn't tell me he was half-Demon, not until he sacrificed himself to stop a bomb that would have wiped anyone not "pure"."
"I'm sorry, Cordy", Paige said in sympathy, speaking for all three Witches.
"You know, that is so like him. Even after all this time, Doyle still infuriates the living hell out of me."
"Yeah, that's something I get." They turned to see Dean and Bobby walking towards them, the Winchester continuing. "Have similar feelings about dad pretty much. He was my old man, in spite of everything. Died for me. Yet, sometimes I wish he was still around, so I won't have to take care of Sammy alone."
"You're not alone, kid", Bobby said gruffly, grasping his shoulder tightly. "Never say you're alone again."
Behind the hunters, Dai'shu and Ephraim arrived.
Then Ephraim smiled at Cordelia and extended a skeletal, marble-skinned hand.
"Good evening, Princess," he said. Cordelia took his hand, and Ephraim kissed it, a gesture so chivalric and courtly that Willow, Piper and Paige could not help but smile.
Cordelia herself, as the recipient of this gesture, was practically beaming.
Dai'shu, on the other hand, sniffed his disapproval.
"So, to what do we owe the honor?" Willow asked, trying to be as courteous as possible.
Ephraim glanced at Dai'shu, and the sorcerer nodded. "We are unused to visitors," the Yill demon said, the spikes that jutted from the back of his skull seeming to stretch his face even more tightly. "The Assemblage has not yet reached a joint opinion, but we wanted to extend a more cordial welcome than the one you received upon arrival. We have determined, after speaking with our ambassador, Ezekiel of the Miquot, that your introduction of a vampire onto these shores was not a purposeful slight."
"Thank you," Willow replied, for she could think of no other response that seemed appropriate.
"Yes," Cordelia added, nodding with false sincerity. "That's great of you guys, really."
"Oh yeah, totally didn't know you'd a rule about it", Dean also added with his own false sincerity.
"We believe that your efforts, regardless of the truth in your warning, are in good faith, and we will try to respond in kind," Ephraim said, glancing at Cordelia. "You have friends here, Princess. Those whose lives you helped to save hold you in high regard."
His gaze shifted to the others. "Sleep well. In the morning you will hear our decision."
Willow smiled. "Great. Thanks for that. Really. You too—the sleeping well part, I mean."
"Good night," Cordelia said simply.
"Night", Piper, Paige and Dean managed to say as one somehow, while Bobby just nodded.
When Ephraim and Dai'shu had departed, the group stood in front of the hut for several seconds, speechless.
"So what was that about, do you think?" Cordelia said at last, as all of them turned to go to their quarters.
"Not really sure. Besides freaking me out, I mean. Maybe they just thought it over and realized they hadn't exactly sent out the welcome wagon and wanted to make nice. Or they could be lulling us into a false sense of security before we're executed at dawn."
"Okay, this death obsession is getting disturbing", Paige said with a wince. "Let's think a bit better at least."
"Yeah, a little caution won't hurt, but constant pessimism sucks", Piper groaned.
"Eh, I think it's a good thing", Dean shrugged.
"Hello?" Willow replied. "Look around. Monster Island."
Cordy shrugged. "True. Then again, maybe they just started thinking about who they were dealing with—the Slayer, Angel, two powerful Witches, rogue demon hunter, the Charmed Ones, hunters who helped take own the Devil himself, and of course the Princess of an entire demon dimension—and figured they oughta be a little more polite."
Xander was wired. Twist and turn as he might on the soft earthen floor of the hut, he could not fall asleep. His mind was buzzing with thoughts and questions and with his fears about what the morning might bring. And not merely the morning, but the subsequent hours or days, when at last Axtius's troops struck the island.
He missed Anya. He would have given almost anything in those quiet hours, alone in the hut, to feel her warm breath against his neck, feel her silky, supple skin beneath his hands, even just as they held each other in bed, in the dark. He thought about what she had said when she was disoriented, after she had been injured; what she had said about needing to be okay because she wanted to have his babies someday.
The idea thrilled and terrified him at the same time. He loved Anya, but whenever he thought about having children of his own in the future, he thought of his own father. He could not help but wonder if he would repeat the man's mistakes, if he would end up treating his own children the same way. The idea made him feel sick.
Xander would rather spend a century in Hell than grow up to be his father. He had never met Doyle, but with a father like Axtius, he figured the Brachen half-breed had to have felt the same way. Again he thought of Anya. Whatever his fears or reservations, just being with her, laughing with her, having his arms around her, always made him feel better. He needed her now, and he worried for her as well. Though he knew that she would recover quickly enough from her injuries, still he found himself regretting not having stayed with her.
Instead, he was there on the ground on the floor of a hut usually occupied by six-armed battle demons, and the three guys who were supposed to be his roommates for the night—Wesley, Leo and Lorne—were off on walkabout on the island.
Dean and Bobby had a different hut.
He knew the odds, knew the stakes.
But Anya was at home, and all hell was going to break loose here soon. There wasn't anything fun about it for him. Though his eyes were wide open, his mind abuzz, it was not long before sleep finally began to creep up on him.
In the distance he could hear the soothing crash of the waves upon the shore, and a breeze blew through the hut that felt wonderful. His eyelids fluttered, and Xander began to drift off.
"Ohhhh, my," whispered a voice in the darkness inside the hut. His eyes snapped open. Had he really heard that? Xander glanced around inside the hut but saw nothing. There was only a curtain where the door should have been, and it fluttered in the breeze but there seemed to be nobody in the doorway or just beyond it.
Nerves, he told himself, wishing Wesley, Leo and Lorne would come back, even though he'd never been very fond of the one and barely knew the other two.
"You're a strapping young man, aren't you?"
Xander sat up straight, staring about the darkness of the hut. It was very warm, and he had been sleeping only in his underwear with a light, raw cotton sheet thrown over him. Now he covered himself with the sheet. The voice had been sensual, filled with insinuation, and unquestionably female.
"Where are you? Who's in here?"
A cloud of mist began to coalesce just a few feet away, a greenish fog that quickly sculpted itself into the form of the stunningly beautiful demon he had been staring at all through their audience with the Assemblage.
Her hair still danced around her shoulders as though in some wind he could not feel, but where earlier it had strategically covered her, it no longer did. She was not corporeal, a spirit demon, but her brazen nakedness still had an effect on him. Xander brought his knees up in front of him and averted his eyes.
"Can I help you with something?" he asked in a small voice.
"Oh, I hope so," she said in that same, sultry voice. She floated toward him, her body now hovering above the floor, and her fingers reached out toward his face. A tremor went through Xander, and he could not be certain if it was fear or excitement or a combination of the two.
"I am Ileana," she said, her voice like a caress on him. Xander felt compelled to look at her now and could not tear his eyes away. "I am so pleased that you and your friends have come," the achingly beautiful demon said. "It has been so very long since I have had human contact. I have always believed that all peoples are truly one, all sentient beings belong together. Commingling of races is a wondrous thing, don't you agree?"
Xander edged backward across the floor of the hut. "Oh, absolutely. Sure. Nothing like a little creative commingling, I always say. Well, maybe not it in those words exactly. But, see, I . . . aren't you a Vapor demon? I mean, not of the flesh. Not that, you know, the flesh is all I'm thinking of. But how can you . . . wait, you want to possess me, don't you?"
The sudden realization made him stop moving backward and start to rise to his feet. Ileana pushed him down again, the most seductive of smiles on her green-hued face.
"Don't be ridiculous. If I wanted only to possess you, I could have done that without you ever knowing I was here. I want . . . more than that." Xander stared at her fingers where they were splayed against his chest. They were solid enough, that was for sure.
Solid enough to push him down. Solid enough to now begin to trace across his chest, giving him goose bumps. Solid enough to— "Hey!" he exclaimed as she drew the sheet away from him. Xander snatched it back and scrambled away from her. His face was flushed, and he forced himself to picture every small detail of Anya's face in his mind. "Thanks. It was sweet of you to come by. Very neighborly, really But I'm seriously in need of my beauty sleep. Hard to believe, I know. Plus, y'know, kinda have rules about the commingling. Well, not me, really, but my girlfriend? Did I mention she's a vengeance demon? Wonderful thing, commingling, but the vengeance demon girlfriends can be kinda strict about it."
Ileana drew back, her body suddenly less solid, mist swirling, the outline of her form seeming to blur out of focus. The Vapor demon put a hazy finger to her lips and gave him a coquettish smile the likes of which had never been directed at Xander Harris before in his life. In that moment he nearly forgot all about Anya. Nearly.
"All right, my young man," the demon whispered. "But when you think of me later . . . when you dream of Ileana . . . remember the pleasure that you might have had."
She blew him a kiss, and then evaporated before his eyes. Xander swore low, under his breath. After nearly a full minute of simply staring at the darkness of his hut, he lay back down, but he knew there was no way he was going to be able to sleep now.
In a windowless room more like a meat locker than a jail cell, Spike sat up against the stone wall, bored out of his mind. Bloody hell, he thought, for perhaps the thousandth time, a bloke wants to help, and this is the thanks he gets. If that wasn't bad enough, he was nearly out of cigarettes. He took a long drag on the one perched between his lips now, the embers glowing in the darkness, and tapped at the pack.
Three left.
The vampire wondered if any of the demons on this island of freaks would have cigarettes, or if they were banned. Maybe Zeke. The Miquot spent a lot of time on the streets of L.A. Spike held out hope that Zeke would have some cigarettes.
"Bored now," he muttered to the darkness inside his cell. The smoke that furled from the end of his cigarette began to blossom and grow, and he noticed that it had taken on a tinge of green. Spike raised an eyebrow.
"What's this, then?"
The smoke continued to grow into a cloud, and then from the cloud, a shape began to take hold. A very lovely shape, indeed.
"Well, well," Spike said, a broad grin stretching across his features. "What have we here? Looks like not everyone on this island thinks Vampires are the bottom of the barrel."
Ileana's fingers caressed his healing face, touched his hair, ran down his scarred chest. Spike tossed his lit cigarette onto the stone floor and reached to pull her toward him. She was not the one he wanted, but she was breathtaking, heartbreakingly beautiful.
If the one he wanted wouldn't have him, he was more than happy to make due.
The burning ashen ember of the cigarette's tip began to fade. But Spike could see very well in the dark. And he liked what he saw.
And one more ends, with the characters getting acquainted to Monster Island.
Hope all enjoyed and see you all next time with another chapter.