"Ow, fuck", Pat cursed at the same time, as Buffy was grasping one of the bolts and pulling, gritting her teeth against the pain, and letting out a yelp anyway once the bolt came loose and slid out of her flesh, the flow of blood from the wound increasing, "hurry up Buffy, before I pass out from pain or blood loss. Or both."
"Giving my best here", Buffy gave back, grabbing the bolt which had hit her low in the back, briefly worried about possible injuries to her kidney or other unpleasant effects of the bolt she couldn't see; then, she pushed those thoughts aside, reminding herself of the healing abilities the taller woman had in her demon form as she grasped the bolt, trying to ignore how the blood on it was making it slick to the touch as she took a firm hold of it.
"Okay, there we go", she mumbled, placing her other hand on the taller woman's shoulder for both bearing and comfort, "grit your teeth, this is gonna hurt…"
"Just do it", the demon grunted, and then Buffy started pulling and she yelped in pain before she grit her teeth and clenched her fists, sweat rolling down her cheeks; it seemed to take forever until the bolt finally came out, and for a moment, she was sure that she'd throw up and then faint – before sharp pain originated from a new place, namely her ear, as Buffy was grabbing and pulling it, making her yelp again, with both surprise and pain this time.
"Buffy, what the fuck!", she then complained, glaring at the Slayer, "what are you doing?!"
"Keeping you from fainting", Buffy replied, "and also, language. If you faint on me here now, you can't get up and demon out to heal, and if you can't heal those wounds quickly, you have to go to the hospital."
"I know, I know", Pat grumbled, coming to her feet with the help of the blonde, "and there's no way I'll go to the hospital as long as these guys still have Willow."
She clenched her fists as she told the Slayer to step back, prompting Buffy to do just that; and moments later, she changed, her hair lengthening and thickening until it became fur, her muscles bulging out as her shape became much bulkier, her teeth lengthening and sharpening as well and a malicious red glow filling her good eye, fitting the flames which had started to flicker all over her body.
"You know, I was wondering", Buffy commented as she watched, by now quite unfazed by the transformation, having seen it a few dozen times, "does it ever hurt when you do that?"
"The teeth sometimes do", the demon rumbled in reply, her voice having deepened as well, sounding almost guttural, "why do you ask?"
"Just curious", Buffy shrugged, then grimaced as the fleshy sounds of the taller woman's wounds healing with accelerated speed came up; gritting her teeth as well, Pat grunted as the injuries healed, glad when the process finally had finished, waiting just a few moments longer to make sure all the damage was gone before she returned to her human form, glad that no one had seen her change and that her clothes had survived the process.
"Alright", she then stated, stretching and grimacing as she still could feel the pain, "now, how to find them? I don't want to leave Willow in their grasp longer than absolutely necessary, who knows what they might do to her." Her voice trembled at the last few words, just enough to let Buffy notice; taking a step closer to her, she put one hand on the taller woman's shoulder, giving her best to sound reassuring and comforting as she spoke up, and trying to not let her own worries about her best friend show.
"I'm sure she's alright", she told the demon, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, "they'll be smart enough to figure out that their bolts didn't kill you, and that we'll come for her, so they'll keep her alive to have a negotiation basis."
"That's how I would do it", Pat nodded in reply, finding her cigarettes and lighting one of the up, "let's hope these guys think the same way. And we need to find out who they are and where they might have taken her as fast as possible."
"I suppose you can't follow the scent of the van, right?" Buffy hopefully asked, her face falling when the taller woman shook her head, a regretful sigh coming from her moments later.
"No", she then confirmed verbally as well, "I could possibly if it was the only car around for miles, but not in the middle of the city. My nose is good, but not that good."
"Pity", Buffy sighed, then dug out her phone, "I'll call Giles and tell him about this, maybe he'll know something."
"Yeah, let's hope so", the demon muttered, then fell silent as the Slayer dialled her Watcher's number; and while he took the call and she started explaining, she looked into the direction the van had taken, her heart clenching up yet again as she asked herself what these guys might be doing to her partner right now and if she really would be alright.
When Willow came around again, the first thing she noticed was that she couldn't see, and briefly panicked for a moment; then, she felt the cloth tied around her head and realized that she had been blindfolded, her dismay about this increasing even further when she noticed moments later that her hands had been bound behind her back.
"She's awake", a male voice came, "finally, I already thought you knocked her into a coma, Richard."
"I didn't hit her that hard", the man named Richard protested at once; and then she felt herself being grabbed and hauled to her feet, his voice surprisingly close to her ear when he spoke up again moments later.
"We'll take you to see the boss now", he let her know, "so he can decide what we'll do with you. And you better not be disrespectful to him. He doesn't like that. Come on, move it."
She let out a vaguely agreeing noise as he started pushing her along, the sound her feet made on the ground prompting her to guess that it was concrete; they walked for a while, then she heard a door open, and moments later, her blindfold was removed, the witch nearly recoiling when the first thing she saw was one of the ugliest demons she ever had laid eyes on, a big, scaly thing with more arms than it was natural, two of them ending in sharp, elongated pincers, the whole appearance absurdly reminding her of a giant, brown praying mantis.
"The witch", the demon greeted her, the sight of his faceted eyes looking her over making her slightly uneasy, "welcome to my home. I'm Deira, the corruptor."
"Nice to meet you", Willow gave back the first thing which came to her mind, no matter how senseless it might be, "Willow Rosenberg, witch and best friend of the Slayer."
"I'm well aware of your friends", Deira gave back, and even though it should have been impossible to tell, the redhead knew that the demon was smiling, "and of the woman you share your bed with. They are the only reason you're still alive."
"Could they also be a reason for untying me?" Willow wanted to know, well aware of the two men standing close behind her and the other robed figures close to the throne-like chair the demon was sitting on, "cause my hands are really starting to hurt by now."
"In a moment", Deira replied, to her endless surprise; he nodded at one of the men behind her, and moments later, something cold closed around her neck, prompting her to jump in surprise, the mantis-like demon chuckling in amusement at her reaction.
"No worries", he then told her, leaning forward on his seat, "just a safety measure. Yet another artefact I required. It's a torc which will supress your abilities to cast spells as long as you wear it. I promise it will be removed before we let you go."
"…alright", Willow gave back, even though she didn't like the thought of having this thing around her throat; Deira gave her another smile, then nodded at the man behind her, and moments later, her hands were untied, the redhead absent-mindedly rubbing her wrists as she held the demon's gaze, not sure what to expect from him now.
"So what now?" she thus asked after a moment, glancing nervously at the men surrounding the demon and her; in response, he leaned back into his chair, then reached beneath the folds and flaps of the wings on his back, surprising her moments later by pulling out a pipe, of all things.
"We wait", Deira replied, holding his pipe out to one of his lackeys, the man immediately and obediently lighting it up for him, "for your friends to come. I'm sure it won't take them long."
"And then what?" Willow demanded to know, feeling uneasy again, "you'll kill them, and me?"
"No", Deira reassured her, sounding so honestly shocked that it was almost comical, "I have no interest in killing you. And no need to. I've got the Staff, and it's all I wanted and needed."
"What do you want with the Staff?" the witch dared to ask, only to regret it moments later as behind her, Richard snarled – and then hit her, low in the back, causing her to stumble forward as she grit her teeth in pain, the man's voice full of annoyance when he told her to hold the question and that this was none of her business.
"Tsk, tsk", Deira let out, giving his crony a disapproving look, "Richard. She's our guest. We'll treat her accordingly. Show her to one of the guestrooms, please."
"Yes, Sir", Richard demurely replied, then took hold of the witch's arm again; knowing that without her magic, there wasn't much she could do, she let it happen that he led her out of the room and down the hallway again, stopping in front of another door, making a point of unlocking it before he shoved her inside, the door slamming shut and being locked behind her again moments later.
"Jeez, tetchy much?" the witch mumbled to herself as she turned to glare at the door; then, she focused on the room again, having to admit that, for a room intended to hold her prisoner, it was quite nice, with a comfy looking bed and a table with two chairs, even though the only window in the room had been barred to keep her from climbing out through it.
"At least I got a window", she muttered as she moved over to said window and looked outside, trying to figure out where she was, to her dismay only seeing desert around her, "they could have just as well locked me up in some cellar room…"
She let out a small sigh, then gave the bars in front of the window an experimental tug, not surprised when they didn't move at all; momentarily, she wished for the kind of strength Buffy or her partner had, then shrugged those thoughts off, telling herself that it might be just as useful to wish for Deira to drop dead in her current situation.
Instead of wasting any more time on wishes which wouldn't be fulfilled anyway, she let go of the bars and reached up to touch the torc around her throat instead; it felt harmless enough, slightly cold and metallic to her touch, and she frowned to herself as she asked herself how exactly it was supposed to keep her from doing any magic.
Figuring that there was just one way to find out if what the demon had told her was true, she concentrated, performing the first spell which came to her mind, one of the very first ones she had learned – rather simple magic, used to float objects through control and willpower, her gaze focusing on the chair, her eyes narrowing as she tried to find the flow of energy within her, the spark which would let her use the magic and make the chair rise from the wooden floor.
She felt the torc around her throat heat up, briefly asking herself if it would grow hot enough to actually burn her – and then the energy was there, dark and strong and vicious and the chair not only started to float, but was thrown through the room and hit the wall hard enough to make it shatter into tiny pieces, a malicious smirk curling Willow's lips as her darkened gaze moved on to the door, the wood being blown to smithereens the blink of an eye later.
Outside, she heard a surprised cry, then Richard and another man who's name she didn't know came rushing into the room, only to stop dead in their tracks when their eyes met hers and they had time to register the darkness which was filling them; and just when she started to think of new and interesting ways to make them pay for capturing her, they both dropped down to their knees and lowered their heads, mumbling "My Lady" in surprising unison, the witch's smirk widening slightly as she lowered her hands and looked at them approvingly, not even fully noticing how the darkness within her took over.