Chapter One Hundred and Fifty Seven
Night And Bloody Day
San Francisco, the world without shrimp - November 2007
Magic sparked on the tips of Willow's fingers. Around her were the women that made her the new San Francisco Coven, and a spell was underway. Anya had called to tell them about the Day of the Dead festival, as they were currently calling it. The period of magical recklessness, she'd expressed her worries, told Tara to keep an eye on Willow as well as Jenny. But so far everything was okay. Everyone in the coven was being careful, the magic at the moment were tempestuous at best. And there was a general feeling of unknown, of the chaos that their magic could become if a spell was to go wrong. The air was thick with it, and so was Tara with worry.
Willow's eyes were closed, her palms tilted upwards on her knees. Amy was next to her. They were trying out binding spells, a backup in case either of their magic started going haywire. The connection to the other witch and her magic would keep them both grounded. Words were whispered under their breaths as a warm golden glow surrounded them. The room lit up, the other witches stopped what they were doing and stared. They could feel the power emanating from both Willow and Amy. Astra was used to this kind of display, being from the Devon Coven she was often surrounded by examples of great power. But the other girls, the younger ones; Calliope and Linda, were impressed. Maybe it was just the Day of the Dead making everything heightened, but there was something special happening. A new trust was forming between two people who'd found themselves at odds before.
When the spell was over, Amy's eyes flickered open and she took a minute to feel Willow's hand over her own. They hadn't been this close to each other in months. She was shocked by her own feelings, had she always been like this? Being jealous of Willow was an act? She shook it off. Having that kind of thought about Willow was wrong. She was with Tara, they were all totally soulmates and everything, she could never penetrate that. Never match up. So she brushed her thoughts aside and stood up, breaking the contact between her and Willow. She smiled briefly and then walked to the other side of the room, nestling next to Vaughne where she felt safe, and unafraid of her own mind.
Willow went and sat beside Tara, fiddling with her fingers, smiling as she felt a spark every time they touched. Even though she was being careful with the magic, she did enjoy the perks of its constant presence in the air. Her and Tara were connected on a level they's never reached before. It felt like everything was heightened. Whatever emotions they felt were amped up, on extreme. When their eyes met she felt tingling almost everywhere in her body. When their fingers met, her heart fluttered wildly. She'd never felt anything like it.
A warehouse outside of San Francisco, the world without shrimp - November 2007
"Now, it is almost time to perform the ritual, my little devil." Drusilla said patronisingly to Spike. With the hypnosis and the tendrils of her voice wrapping around his brain, he was the spit of lethargy. "We have to wait until the moon is high and the stars are dancing for the spell, Spike?" Dru approached him and tipped his chin up, a slip of drool dropped from his lip onto his black shirt. Neither of them was sane enough to wipe it off.
Spike groaned and eventually opened his eyes. He was drowsy and hot, sweat beading on his forehead. "What's that pet?" He mumbled, his lip bulging outwards where he'd bitten it in his sleep, desperate for blood.
"The spell Spike. It's almost ready." Drusilla replied, pacing around the room, her heels clicking on the concrete. She was waiting for the moon, everything else was already completed. Every ingredient was laid out on the table like an altar. There were only minutes until the moon reached the peak of its cycle. It was full and bright and shining into the room. When the stream of light met Spike's ankle, he retreated backwards, back into the dark. Back where he was obeying his mistress. He was so drowsy and unaware of himself that he was mumbling unintelligible words to himself. Drusilla paced and the moon brightened, she felt it when it began to bloom. When the power of the dead, the power of black magic flowed into the room. She held out an Orb of Thesulah, the container for Spike's soul once she'd removed it. It seemed to sparkle in the moonlight. Then placed it back down on the table, she would be needing it later.
She took a curved dagger from her altar and sliced open her wrist. She held back her cries of pain, instead giggling at the feeling. Like she was so immune, so distant from the humanity that had once inhabited her. She let the magic in the air flow into her veins as if it was a spirit possessing her. She writhed and spun as the magic infected her, her face making a bumpy return and her fangs slipping over her bottom lip. Drusilla cried into the air, howling at the moon as the forces of darkness ruled her every action.
She walked over to Spike and placed both of her hands on his chest, her blood mingling with the various cuts and bruises he'd been afforded in their rough and tumble. "This is it, love." She said, kissing him on the cheek as the magic began to work. Less forcefully than the last time, Drusilla's hand lay over his heart and began to tug away at his soul. Her head thrust back violently as she pulled it from him. Spike yelled, a small part of him fighting back against this mistreatment. Against Drusilla ripping away a part of him that he'd worked so hard to earn and keep. It'd been years since he got it, so it was strongly attached. Being with Buffy had cemented it to the walls of his chest and it was painful work having what remained of it pulled out of him. Inside he was screaming, trying to scrabble away from this poisonous woman who'd created him. But the layers of time and magic that kept him subdued was working, and he had nothing in him to physically fight. So Drusilla could keep on pulling and he had no way to defend himself.
As the moon was high in the sky, a stream of white-yellow smoke wrapped around Drusilla's bloody wrist like a snake. "Ah ha!" She howled, "I have it here. You are mine now, forever, my sweet love." She cried, carrying the soul carefully to the Orb of Thesulah. It slithered around her like it was somewhat charmed and in love (like the duped up Spike) until it got bored of the world and disappeared into a swirled cloud inside the glass ball. Drusilla's face returned to its usual sharp features and smooth pale skin. Her hair bounced around her shoulders in thick dark waves like she'd been rejuvenated. She glared back at the groaning, half-dead Spike, she thought he looked wonderful, and knew this was the right thing, a masterplan. She picked up the orb and threw it against the wall before it could disappear. She didn't want his soul safe, she wanted it out there in the world where it could roam free. Not trapped in a ball where it could be easily found. She wanted it to hide from them, to cower in the darkness with the rats and cockroaches.
"Are you happy now, dear?" Spike said breathlessly. Chewing on his words and spitting them at her, filled with blood and saliva.
Drusilla turned on her heels and approached him again. "I am most happy, my pet. How you will surrender to me!" She giggled lightly in her deranged way and kissed him again, her fangs pressing into his flesh as a threat. She may be mad, but she's cunning, deadly, and always goes after what she wants.
San Francisco, the world without shrimp - November 2007
There was a knock at the door. Buffy turned around to answer it, she'd been sitting on the back of the couch chewing her fingernails for the past ten minutes waiting for the arrivals. The door opened with a hint of a squeak and revealed a very tired Giles dragging a suitcase. "Giles!" Buffy said, launching herself into him and giving him a rather solid hug for upwards of a minute.
Jenny stood back with her arms folded, "hey! Where's my hug?" She asked, putting her arms out for Buffy to fall into. "That's better," she mumbled as Buffy pulled away and lead them into the apartment. Dawn heard the voices and jogged out of her room to the same response. There were two more hugs given and then Giles sat down, demanding tea for their trouble of coming all the way over here. Jenny collapsed onto the couch beside him as Buffy started boiling water. Dawn decided to pummel them with a mountain of questions.
A few minutes later, Buffy walked over with two mugs of steaming English breakfast tea she kept in the cupboard for emergencies. "Here you go, careful the mug's hot." She said handing it over and sitting down herself.
Dawn turned to her, "now, I love that Giles and Jenny are here. But you must've called them for a reason, what's going on?"
Buffy's face fell a little, Dawn was right, and annoyingly perceptive. She would've already told her about the weird sinking feeling and Giles coming but she still wasn't sure it was anything. She didn't want to get Dawn worried when she was doing so well. Everything had just settled into a nice rhythm again, it would be such a shame for an apocalypse to come along and ruin it. But before she could answer, Giles stepped in for her.
"There is something going on. Anya called me earlier in the week too, not just you Buffy. She remembered something from one of the books I left at the Magic Box. Once every hundred years there's a time when magic is much more free. It's all aligned with the moon. Similar to when Glory wanted to perform the ritual, Dawn. Now and the closer to the full moon it gets, the more likely it is that witches, or demons and whoever else uses magic, will try to get power for themselves." Jenny recoiled a little at the use of witches, but she knew Giles didn't mean any harm. He was just being truthful. "There haven't been any reports to the Council about any spells, otherwise you'd have been told Dawn. And nothing might actually happen, but we can't be too careful. Also, this area has always been a rife area for magic so we thought we'd come over and see you all. If we're needed then at least we can help." He finished, looking over at Jenny and smiling, squeezing her hand tightly.
"So there isn't actually an evil plot to destroy the world?" Dawn asked, her chin resting on her fist as she leaned forward, interested in the answer.
"No, currently there's just the possibility of something really awful happening." Buffy replied, squeezing her sister's shoulders.
"Do you think we need to inform the rest of the Watcher's Council?"
Giles shook his head, "I already took care of it. Helen knows, and everyone that needs to know already does. I called around yesterday just to check. I think they're planning to brief you and Leo tomorrow. But I think Helen assumed we would tell you first."
"Yeah, I guess that makes sense."
"But whilst we're here, we can still have some fun Dawnie." Jenny said, finishing her cup of tea and setting it down on a coaster on the coffee table.