Chapter 2: Welcome to the Hellmouth Part 2
March 10, 1997 – Monday
Sunnydale High School
Rushing from the building, Buffy and Faith moved with a determined urgency, their footsteps echoing sharply against the cold, hard pavement. Savannah followed them at a discreet distance, her mind focused on maintaining the necessary magical concealment. As the sisters rounded the corner of the gym, their breaths formed misty plumes in the chilly air, their hearts racing with anticipation and anxiety.
It was straightforward for them to find an alternate entrance to the locker room. The gym's architecture, though imposing, had its secrets, and they navigated their way around with practiced ease. Savannah, her face set in concentration, whispered an incantation under her breath, her fingers tracing arcane gestures. Within moments, the spell took effect, rendering her nearly invisible to any casual observer. She faded from view, vanishing just before Buffy's keen eyes could catch sight of her.
Buffy, vigilant and alert, kept a watchful eye on the entrance as Faith approached the door. Faith tested the handle, but it was resolutely locked. She glanced at her sister, who gave a confirming nod. The signal was clear: they were alone.
With a determined yank, Faith wrenched the door open, the sound of splintering wood filling the air as the lock gave way. The door groaned on its hinges, and Faith slipped through with the grace of someone well-acquainted with such tasks. Buffy remained at the threshold, her stance protective and watchful, ready for any unexpected interruptions.
Inside, the dim light cast eerie shadows across the room, accentuating the stark reality of the scene. Buffy's gaze was immediately drawn to the body lying motionless on the floor, covered by a crumpled blanket. Her heart sank as she approached, each step measured and deliberate. The blanket lay heavy and still, an ominous shroud over the grisly discovery. Buffy's hand trembled slightly as she began to fold back the blanket from the body's head and shoulders, the fabric slipping through her fingers with a chilling weight.
As the blanket was drawn back, Faith's expression transformed from grim determination to explosive frustration. Her eyes widened with a mix of disbelief and anger. The sight before her confirmed the darkest of fears. Two unmistakable bite marks marred the boy's neck.
Faith's face flushed with a fierce indignation, her fists clenching at her sides. "Oh, great!" she exploded, her voice filled with a potent blend of frustration and outrage.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Savannah watched with a mixture of concern and determination as Faith emerged from the locker room. Her movements were brisk and purposeful, revealing the urgency of their mission. Faith's face, once marked by frustration, now held a grim resolve as she and Buffy walked away from the scene. Savannah's attention remained fixed on the door, the gravity of the situation settling heavily on her shoulders.
In the quiet that followed, Marie appeared beside her, her presence as reassuring as it was commanding. The elderly woman's gaze was steady, reflecting a deep understanding of the peril they faced. Marie's voice, though calm, carried the weight of her knowledge and experience. "It seems we have vampires," she said, her words cutting through the tension with the clarity of someone who had seen too much of the darker side of the world.
Savannah turned to her aunt, her curiosity piqued and her worry palpable. "Do you remember?" she asked, her tone a blend of reverence and concern.
Marie's expression softened slightly as she met Savannah's gaze. The memories of her own past, though distant, were vivid in her mind. "I was ten, Savannah," Marie began, her voice tinged with nostalgia and regret. "I wasn't privy to knowing what Buffy and Faith were doing back then. It's why your mom provides us with the information we need to help keep Buffy and Faith safe from anyone who might come after them. Because Buffy, as you know, is your mom's past self."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Faith and Buffy strode back into the library with a determined air, their steps echoing on the polished floor. The library's hushed atmosphere seemed to amplify their sense of urgency as they made their way through the maze of book-lined shelves. The familiar scent of old paper and leather-bound tomes filled the air, but today it was overshadowed by the dark reality they had just encountered.
"Okay, what's the sitch?" Faith demanded, her tone sharp and impatient. She was clearly agitated, her eyes darting around for any sign of immediate answers.
Giles was standing on the second level, absorbed in a large, dusty tome that seemed to have been a companion of his for quite some time. The book's pages were yellowed and delicate, hinting at its age and the weight of the knowledge contained within. His attention, however, was so focused on the text that he barely noticed the commotion below.
As Faith and Buffy began to ascend the staircase leading to the second level, Giles looked up, momentarily distracted from his reading. He seemed to take a moment to process the intrusion, his eyebrows furrowing in mild confusion. "Sorry?" he asked, his voice trailing off as he tried to understand the situation.
Unbeknownst to them, Savannah and Marie had entered the library behind the sisters. With practiced ease, Savannah began to weave a cover spell, cloaking them from view as they silently took their place in the shadows. Their presence was nearly imperceptible, a whisper against the library's ancient silence.
"You heard about the dead guy, right?" Buffy retorted, her voice tinged with frustration. "The dead guy in the locker?"
"Yes," Giles said, his tone reserved but attentive. He adjusted his glasses, peering down at the two girls with a mixture of concern and curiosity.
"Well, it's the weirdest thing," Faith continued, her voice carrying an edge of disbelief. "He's got two little holes in his neck, and all his blood's been drained."
"Isn't that bizarre?" Buffy added, her eyes wide with a mix of anxiety and irritation. "Aren't you just going, 'Ooh . . .'"
Giles let out a heavy sigh, a gesture that spoke volumes of the weight he had been carrying. "I was afraid of this," he said, his voice low and weary. The realization seemed to dawn on him that the events were aligning with a darker scenario he had hoped to avoid.
"Well, we weren't!" Faith snapped; her voice harsher than intended. The weight of the day's events had clearly taken its toll on her patience. "It's our first day."
Buffy nodded in agreement, her expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. "We were afraid that we'd be behind in all our classes," she said, her tone softening slightly but still carrying a hint of sarcasm. "That we wouldn't make any friends, that we'd have last month's hair."
"The same for me except the last month's hair deal, that's all Buffy," Faith said with a roll of her eyes. Her voice carried a note of exasperation, as if the weight of the day's events was beginning to wear on her patience. Her gaze swept across the library, briefly taking in the sprawl of ancient texts and the stern figure of Giles above them.
"You know what I meant, Faith," Buffy said, her tone a mix of defensive and weary. She then refocused on Giles, her expression shifting to one of determination. "We didn't think there would be vampires on campus. And we don't care."
Giles' eyebrows furrowed as he processed Buffy's declaration. "Then why are you two here?" he asked, his voice edged with frustration and confusion. It was clear he was struggling to understand the urgency behind their visit.
The question seemed to momentarily halt the sisters in their tracks, but only for a brief pause. The gravity of Giles' question hung in the air, mingling with the muted rustle of pages and the distant hum of the library's climate control system.
"To tell you that we don't care," Faith responded, her voice firm but tinged with a hint of defiance. Her eyes, still bright with the remnants of frustration, met Giles' steady gaze. "Which we don't."
"And have now told you," Buffy added, her voice carrying a finality that left no room for argument. "So, 'bye." With that, she turned toward the door, her movement brisk as she tugged Faith along with her. The click of her shoes on the polished floor punctuated the dismissal, echoing off the high ceilings of the library.
Giles, not yet ready to let them leave, called after them, his voice filled with a mix of concern and disbelief. "Will he rise again?"
Buffy and Faith exchanged a glance, a momentary communication that passed silently between them. Their expressions, though fraught with their own worries, held a resolute clarity in response to Giles' question.
"You mean the boy?" Faith asked, her voice steady as she waited for Giles' nod of confirmation. "No, he's dead. Dead, dead, not undead."
"Can you be sure?" Giles pressed, his voice carrying an undercurrent of anxiety.
Faith sighed, her exasperation palpable as she spoke. "He would have had to drink, which he didn't," she said, her eyes scanning the room with a mixture of irritation and determination. "No blood on the mouth. You know why are we still talking to you?" Her tone was edged with frustration, the weight of recent events pressing heavily on her shoulders.
Giles, standing firm on the second level of the library, regarded the sisters with a mixture of concern and frustration. "You two have no idea what's going on, do you?" he challenged them, his voice tight with controlled emotion. "Do you think it's a coincidence, you two came here? That boy was just the beginning."
Buffy, her patience wearing thin, turned back and looked up at Giles. Her gaze was sharp, reflecting her growing irritation. "Oh, why can't you leave us alone?" Her question was laced with the frustration of someone overwhelmed by an unexpected turn of events.
Giles, momentarily taken aback, gathered his composure. "Because you are the Slayer," he replied, his voice tinged with gravity. He paused, a flicker of realization crossing his face as he remembered the reports Merrick had written, detailing the fact that both of the sisters had been called. "Because you both are Slayers."
The sisters watched as Giles descended the stairs, his demeanor solemn and grave. The quiet of the library seemed to amplify his words as he began the familiar and weighty recitation.
"Into every generation, a Slayer is born," Giles intoned, his voice carrying the cadence of centuries-old tradition. "One girl, in all the world, a Chosen One. One born with the—"
"—the strength and skill to hunt the vampires—" Faith interjected, her voice blending with Giles' as she completed the well-known passage with a sense of practiced familiarity.
"To stop the spread of their evil blah blah, we've heard it, okay?" Buffy finished, her tone dismissive and tinged with sarcasm. Her words echoed the weariness she felt, a weariness that seemed to seep from every pore.
Giles looked troubled, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "I don't understand this attitude," he said, his voice strained. "You two have accepted your duty, you both have slain vampires before—"
"Yeah, well," Faith responded, her tone carrying a note of bitterness and defeat. "We also lost Merrick to good ole Lothos. We got kicked out of school, forced to move two hours away from our friends. And all because of this stupid duty. We're moving on, now."
Giles considered their responses with a thoughtful frown, his gaze distant as he weighed their words. After a moment of reflection, he asked, "What do you two know about this town?"
Buffy, her eyes scanning the room with a mix of weariness and curiosity, responded, "It's two hours on the freeway from Neiman Marcus." Her voice carried a hint of sarcasm, masking her underlying frustration with the situation.
"It's two hours from our friends," Faith added, her tone reflecting a similar blend of frustration and resignation. Both sisters exchanged a glance, their shared experience of displacement and disconnection evident in their expressions.
Giles, acknowledging their answers with a nod, motioned for the sisters to wait as he turned and disappeared into a back room. The soft rustling of papers and the muted clink of objects could be heard as he rummaged through his collection, his footsteps echoing faintly in the quiet library.
When Giles emerged, he was carrying a substantial stack of books, their spines lined with titles that seemed to promise knowledge of dark and arcane subjects. He approached the sisters, who stood by, their curiosity piqued.
"Dig a bit into the history of this place and you'll find there has been a steady stream of fairly odd occurrences," Giles began, his voice taking on a tone of academic authority. "I believe this area is a center of mystical energy. Things gravitate toward it that you might not find elsewhere." His words were laden with the weight of years of study and experience, hinting at a deeper, more complex narrative beneath the town's seemingly mundane surface.
He reappeared with a stack of books, his arms loaded with the tomes that he began distributing to Buffy and Faith. The first book he handed to Buffy resembled the vampire book he had shown them earlier, its dark cover and foreboding title suggesting a wealth of knowledge on the supernatural. Buffy stared down at it, her fingers brushing the textured surface as if it might reveal some hidden truth.
Without pausing, Giles heaped another book into Faith's arms, then another into Buffy's, and continued in this manner until both sisters were practically buried under a mountain of volumes. The books were thick and heavy, their covers varying from worn leather to ornate designs, each one promising a different aspect of the hidden world Giles had hinted at.
"Like werewolves," Giles continued, his voice steady as he moved quickly from one subject to the next. "Zombies. Succubi, incubi…" He leaned in close, his gaze intense and compelling as he spoke directly into their faces. "Everything you ever dreaded under your bed and told yourself couldn't be by the light of day."
Faith's brow furrowed as she struggled to balance the books, her frustration momentarily giving way to disbelief. "What, did you send away for the Time Life series?" she asked, her tone edged with a mix of mockery and genuine curiosity. A giggle escaped Buffy's lips, a rare moment of levity in the midst of the tension.
Giles actually looked a bit sheepish, his usual composure faltering as he adjusted his glasses and glanced at the ground. "Uh, yes," he admitted, his voice carrying a hint of embarrassment.
Faith's eyes widened with a mix of curiosity and amusement. "Did you get the free phone?" she asked, her tone laced with a playful edge.
"The calendar," Giles said, quickly clarifying his previous statement, as though the calendar was somehow more respectable than the promotional phone.
"Cool," Buffy remarked, her tone dry as she watched Faith transfer her own books back into Giles's arms. Buffy then followed suit, shifting the stack she was holding back into his already overflowing arms. "Okay, first of all, we're vampire slayers," she stated matter-of-factly. "And second, we're retired. Hey, I know! Why don't you kill them?"
Giles's expression shifted to one of genuine surprise, his smile momentarily faltering as he processed Buffy's suggestion. "I'm a Watcher. I haven't the skill," he explained, his tone earnest and apologetic.
"Oh, come on," Faith said, rolling her eyes with exasperation. "Stake through the heart, a little sunlight—it's like falling off a log."
"The Slayer … Slayers slay," Giles explained patiently, his voice taking on a tone of resigned authority. "The Watcher—"
"Watches?" Buffy interjected, raising an eyebrow and matching Faith's earlier gesture with a roll of her eyes.
"Yes. No!" Giles recovered himself, his cheeks flushing slightly. "He—he—trains her … them, he prepares them—"
"Prepares us for what?" Faith demanded, stepping closer to Giles and challenging him with a piercing gaze. "For getting kicked out of school? Losing all our friends? Having to spend all our time fighting for our lives and never getting to tell anyone, because it might 'endanger' them? Go ahead." Her eyes locked onto his, her expression fierce and defiant. "Prepare us."
With a huff of frustration, Faith grabbed Buffy by the arm and yanked her away from the library. Giles, caught off guard by the sudden shift in their dynamic, hurried after them, his mind racing with the urgency to catch up and perhaps salvage the situation. The library doors swung open behind them with a soft whoosh, echoing through the vast, shadowed space as the tension of the moment hung heavy in the air.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Giles continued to follow the sisters through the crowded hallway, his steps quickening as the space around them began to swell with students returning to their classes. The once-empty corridor was now abuzz with chatter and the clamor of lockers slamming shut. As Giles moved closer, the noise seemed to swell, creating a backdrop of chaos that underscored the tension of the moment.
"It's getting worse," Giles called out, his voice rising above the din of student conversations and the clatter of books and backpacks.
Buffy glanced at Faith, both of them momentarily pausing amidst the swirl of teenagers. They whirled to face him, trying to keep their frustration in check while being acutely aware of the curious glances and whispers from the passing students. Buffy tried not to let out a sigh too loudly, the strain of their conversation adding to the noise and bustle around them. "What's getting worse?" she asked, her tone edged with a mix of irritation and concern.
"The influx of the undead," Giles murmured, lowering his voice to avoid drawing too much attention. He guided the sisters gently but firmly over to the side of the hallway, pushing them against the wall to gain a bit of privacy amidst the growing crowd. "The supernatural occurrences. It's been building for years, and now …" He paused, his gaze intense and laden with urgency. "There's a reason why you're here, and there's a reason why it's now."
"Because now is the time our mom moved here," Buffy interjected, her voice tight with both recognition and exasperation. The sisters turned to walk away, but Giles's arm shot out, blocking their path with a determined gesture.
"Something is coming," he insisted, his expression grave and foreboding. "Something is going to happen here soon."
The sisters, their patience wearing thin, pulled his arm down gently but firmly. "Gee, can you vague that up for us …?" Buffy asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she tried to make sense of Giles's ominous words.
"As far as I can tell," Giles explained, his voice earnest and filled with concern. "The signs point to a crucial mystical upheaval very soon—days, possibly less." His eyes were wide with the weight of his knowledge, and he looked at them as though the information he was sharing was both urgent and unsettling.
Faith gave him a narrow, skeptical stare. "Come on. This is Sunnydale," she reminded him, her voice laced with disbelief. "How bad an evil can there be here?"
Empty Storefront
Rei's smile was warm and genuine as she stood across from Joyce Summers in the cozy, sunlit storefront that would soon become the heart of Rei's antiquities business. The shop, with its large, arched windows and polished wooden floors, held an air of quiet sophistication, hinting at the treasures it would soon house. Shelves lined with empty display cases and vintage furniture were set against walls adorned with charming period wallpaper, awaiting the influx of historical artifacts and relics.
"I've looked through your resume, and I have to say I am impressed," Rei remarked, her eyes sparkling with approval. "A Bachelor's degree in antiquities and you worked for the premiere gallery in Los Angeles. I have to ask, why did you move to Sunnydale when you had a nice job in L.A.?"
Joyce shifted slightly; her hands clasped in front of her as she looked around the room. The walls seemed to echo with the promise of new beginnings, though her thoughts were more burdened. She had hoped that the conversation would steer clear of the real reasons behind her move, but the question lingered in the air like an unwelcome shadow. Joyce took a deep breath, opting for a partial truth as she spoke, "I wanted a fresh start for me and the girls," she said, her voice steady but her eyes reflecting a hint of weariness. "My ex-husband still lives in L.A., and I wanted to put some distance between us."
Rei nodded; her expression sympathetic. "Those are very good reasons," she said warmly. "I myself am very family-oriented, so you doing that, especially for your girls, is very commendable. When can you start?"
Joyce blinked, slightly taken aback by the directness of the offer. "You mean …?" she began, her tone tinged with a mix of hope and uncertainty.
"I do," Rei confirmed, her smile widening. The air in the room seemed to hum with the promise of new opportunities and the excitement of embarking on a new chapter.
"Tomorrow?" Joyce suggested, a tentative smile touching her lips.
"That'll be fine," Rei replied with a nod of approval. "I will be gone a bit. But my daughter, who coincidentally is also named Rei—her father's choice—will run things in my absence."
Sunnyhaven
Savannah and Marie entered the grand foyer of the five-hundred-acre estate house that they had recently purchased just outside of Sunnydale. The sprawling estate, with its elegant stone façade and manicured gardens, seemed to welcome them home. The entrance was adorned with intricate carvings and antique furnishings, reflecting a blend of timeless elegance and personal charm.
As they stepped inside, the echo of their footsteps mingled with the excited noise of their family. "Clay, Buffy, Logan, Anne, and Joyce. Savannah and I are home," Marie called out, her voice filled with warmth and anticipation.
Immediately, Joyce and Logan, Marie's children, came running into the foyer. They were full of energy and enthusiasm, their faces bright with excitement as they barreled into Marie, nearly toppling her over in their eagerness. Anne, who was both Buffy's daughter and Savannah's younger sister, followed close behind, launching herself into Savannah's arms with equal fervor. The commotion was soon joined by Buffi and Clay, Marie's husband, who appeared from another room.
"Hey, darling. Everything go alright?" Clay asked, his tone filled with genuine concern and affection. His voice was a comforting presence amidst the chaos, a steady anchor in the whirlwind of familial reunions.
"Everything went fine," Marie assured him, her lips curling into a smile as she leaned in to give Clay a tender kiss. The gesture was brief but conveyed a deep connection and mutual support.
"So how did I look?" Buffi asked, a playful curiosity evident in her voice as she turned toward her daughter.
Savannah laughed, the sound light and airy, a perfect counterpoint to the bustling energy of the house. "You look just the same, Mom," she replied, her eyes twinkling with affection and amusement.
Marie then turned her attention to her children, kneeling down to embrace them. She wrapped her arms around Logan first, then Joyce, her gestures full of love and relief. The physical closeness and the comfort of her presence were palpable.
Looking up at Clay and Buffi, Marie's expression shifted to one of contemplation. "Savannah and I found something out today. Did Xander ever tell you how he found out about you being the Slayer, Buffy?"
"Yeah, he said he had been in the library," Buffi responded, her tone reflective. "When Faith and I had been talking to Giles after the body had been found." She paused for a moment, then continued, "You two are going out to the Bronze tonight. Clay wanted to go too. I think he's getting kind of restless. But I need someone here with me to help wrangle your kids." She gestured towards Logan and Joyce, who were now playing with a newfound enthusiasm. "Anyways, you two will go to the Bronze. Introduce yourselves to Faith and my past self."
"Okay," Marie and Savannah agreed in unison, their voices filled with determination and readiness.
Summers Home
Buffy stood in front of her bedroom mirror, agonizing over her fashion statement of the evening. The mirror reflected not just her appearance but the turmoil of indecision that clouded her usually confident demeanor. Holding up an outfit that was shockingly scanty, she spoke aloud to her sisters as well as her own reflection, her voice tinged with exasperation. "Hi! I'm an enormous slut!"
"No, you're not," Dawn said, her tone firm with the unyielding support only a younger sister could provide. She perched on the edge of Buffy's bed, her eyes earnest and full of encouragement.
Faith rolled her eyes, her expression a mix of amusement and impatience. "Let's see the other one."
Buffy replaced the first outfit with a second, much plainer version, and took another careful look at herself in the mirror. The fabric of the outfit was modest, almost demure, in stark contrast to the first. "Hi! Would you like a copy of the Watchtower?" she quipped, her reflection staring back with a dissatisfied frown.
Faith shook her head as she watched her twin, the playful glint in her eyes dimming slightly as she considered Buffy's dilemma. "Neither of those scream 'you'," she finally said, her voice softer, more thoughtful.
Frustrated, Buffy threw both outfits down onto the bed, the sound of the fabric hitting the mattress punctuating her irritation. "I used to be so good at this," she grumbled, the weight of her own expectations heavy on her shoulders. Her room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a battleground where she fought against her own self-doubt.
Just then, their mother came into the room, her presence bringing a sense of warmth and normalcy. "Are you two going out tonight?" Joyce asked her eldest daughters, her tone casual but with a hint of motherly curiosity.
"Yeah, Mom," Buffy answered, her voice carrying a trace of the frustration she felt.
"We're going to a club," Faith added, her voice more neutral, as if she were used to fielding such questions.
"Will there be boys there?" Joyce's question hung in the air, laced with a mother's eternal concern for her daughters.
"No, Mom," Faith answered with a roll of her eyes and a playful smirk, "it's a nun club." The sarcasm in her voice was gentle, a small rebellion against the protective instincts of their mother.
Joyce ignored the mild sarcasm. "Well, just be careful," she repeated, her voice carrying the weight of a mother's perpetual concern.
"We will," Buffy and Faith answered in unison, their voices a blend of reassurance and mild exasperation.
"I think we can make it work here," Joyce insisted, her optimism almost palpable. "I've got my positive energy flowing. I got a job at this gallery and I'm going to get it on its feet." Her eyes sparkled with determination, the kind that only comes from a deep desire to provide stability for her family.
Buffy tried to sound enthusiastic, her voice slightly strained. "Great."
"And the schools are very nurturing, which is what you three need," Joyce continued, her voice brimming with conviction.
"Mom . . ." Faith, Dawn, and Buffy all said simultaneously, a chorus of exasperation tempered with affection.
"Oh, not too nurturing. I know," Joyce replied with a knowing smile. She looked at her eldest daughters, the pride in her eyes evident. "You two are sixteen." She then turned her gaze to Dawn, who was sitting nearby, looking thoughtful. "And you are ten; I read all about the dangers of over-nurturing." She hesitated, her voice softening as she admitted, "It's hard. New town and all. For me, too. I'm trying to make it work. I'm going to make it work."
"We know," Faith said, her voice filled with empathy. The shared understanding in the room was almost tangible, a silent acknowledgment of their collective effort to adapt and thrive.
"You're good girls, Buffy, Faith. You two just fell in with the wrong crowd. But that's all behind us now," Joyce said, her tone firm with conviction.
"It is," Buffy reassured her, her voice steady. "From now on, Faith and I are only hanging out with the living." The words slipped out before she could catch herself, a fleeting reminder of the darker aspects of their past.
"She means," Faith said, jumping in quickly to cover for her sister, "the lively . . . people." Her quick thinking brought a smile to Buffy's lips, and Joyce's tension seemed to ease.
Joyce looked relieved, her shoulders relaxing visibly. "Okay. You two have fun. Dawn, dinner will be in fifteen minutes."
"Okay," Dawn replied, her voice light, as she absorbed the comforting routine of family life.
Streets of Sunnydale
Rei watched the sisters walk away from her, their figures gradually blending into the vibrant evening bustle of the town. She took a moment to scrutinize their attire, her eyes narrowing in a mixture of curiosity and mild disapproval. The blonde, who she assumed was Buffy, was dressed in tight slacks that hugged her form, a powder blue shirt that added a soft contrast to the darkness of the night, and a knit tank top that suggested both practicality and a touch of style. Her look was balanced, a careful blend of fashion and function.
The brunette, on the other hand, had opted for a simpler yet more striking ensemble. She wore a plain white tank top, the simplicity of which was offset by the edgy black leather pants that clung to her legs. The outfit exuded a raw confidence, a stark contrast to her sister's more subdued look. Rei couldn't help but wonder about the choices behind their outfits—were they a reflection of their personalities, or perhaps their roles within the group?
As Rei pondered, she mused over their destination. She wondered if they were going out on patrol, or if their destination was the Bronze, the only club she had found in Sunnydale. The way they were dressed led her to lean towards the latter. The Bronze, with its throbbing music and flashing lights, seemed more fitting for their current attire.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
As Buffy and Faith left the safe lights of the suburbs behind, the warm glow of porch lamps and streetlights gave way to the cold, stark darkness of the deserted city streets on the edge of town. The transition was palpable, a shift from safety to uncertainty. They turned a corner, wondering how much further they'd have to go. The sidewalk stretched endlessly before them, camouflaged in shadows, and their footsteps echoed hollowly in the dark. Each step seemed to resonate with the silent pulse of the night, creating a rhythm that was both eerie and comforting in its consistency.
They continued along the pavement, the night air growing cooler, carrying with it a faint hint of the sea mixed with the more pungent odors of the city. Slowly, it began to dawn on Buffy that she and Faith weren't alone. The realization came not from any sudden noise but from a subtle change in the atmosphere, a sense of being watched that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
There was another sound of footsteps now. Footsteps behind them… footsteps walking where they had walked…
"Faith," Buffy whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of their own steps. "I think we're being followed." She and Faith whirled around. They could see a figure standing there, shrouded in blackness, just far enough away so that they didn't feel quite comfortable confronting it, at least not here. The figure's presence was ominous, a dark silhouette against the faint glow of distant streetlights.
The figure didn't move. It stood like a statue, its stillness more unnerving than any sudden movement could have been. The shadows clung to it, obscuring any details, leaving only the impression of a watchful presence.
Faith leaned over and whispered into Buffy's ear, her breath warm against Buffy's skin. "Let's lure it someplace where we can see if it's just a stalker or…"
Buffy nodded in quiet agreement. The unspoken understanding between them was a testament to their bond, forged through countless nights like this one. Turning quickly, they went on, their pace steady but purposeful.
The figure followed. Its footsteps were a constant companion, maintaining a steady rhythm that mirrored their own. The sisters turned the next corner, and the figure kept coming, not hurrying at all, keeping a discreet distance as if it knew it had all the time in the world.
Buffy nodded toward an alley, and Faith nodded in agreement. They ducked into the alleyway, quickly assessing their surroundings. The alley was narrow and dimly lit, with a large pipe spanning the enclosure some ten feet above them. A cluster of smelly garbage cans blocked the other end, their metal sides dented and rusted.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Rei kept pace till she noticed the sisters duck into an alley. She smirked, rookie mistake, or was it? What if they thought she was a vampire? The thought amused her, and she decided to see what they would do, so she followed them into the alley.
As she walked down the alley, her footsteps echoing softly off the brick walls, someone dropped down on her from above without warning. With legs locked over her neck, Rei was tipped over, then rolled and slammed onto the ground. The impact was sudden, the world spinning briefly before her training kicked in.
Rei was on her feet instantly, her reflexes honed from centuries of battles. She was grabbed and thrown up against a wall with a force that knocked the breath out of her. As the world steadied, she smiled, recognizing her assailant. Buffy. She looked up and saw the pipe ten feet above them and nodded in appreciation. It would have been a move she would have used herself.
She looked back at Buffy as Faith moved beside her sister, their combined presence radiating a fierce, protective energy.
"Is there a problem?" Rei asked innocently, her voice calm despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.
Buffy and Faith eyed her suspiciously, getting a good look at her for the first time. Rei's calm demeanor and confident stance seemed to confuse them.
"There's a problem," Faith shot back, her tone sharp and wary. "Why are you following us?"
"Do you two think there are not others in the world, besides yourselves, who are Slayers?" Rei asked, her voice steady, a hint of amusement in her eyes.
"Impossible," Buffy answered, her voice filled with conviction. "We were told the last one died and that the reason there are two of us now is a fluke because we're twins."
Rei's expression turned serious, her eyes darkening with memories. "Three hundred years ago, I was a Slayer," she told them, her voice carrying the weight of centuries. "Then … I died … and I became immortal. As far as the Watcher's Council is concerned, I am no longer a Slayer even though I still have the same abilities that you two have."
"And we're supposed to believe that," Faith said, her voice dripping with skepticism.
"Only vampires live that long," Buffy said, her eyes narrowing. "You could very well be one."
"Stake me," Rei said with a smile, the challenge clear in her voice. "If I'm lying, I will turn to dust. If I'm telling the truth, I will heal quickly. You see, for me, there is only one way to suffer the final death. You would have to take my head."
Faith and Buffy looked at each other, exchanging a glance filled with uncertainty and silent communication, then back at Rei. If she was a vampire, she would dust, simple as that. If she weren't, they would be responsible for murder. Maybe Rei had a death wish and simply wanted them to kill her. The moral and ethical weight of the situation pressed heavily on their shoulders, and neither sister wanted to take that chance.
It seemed like Rei picked up on their dilemma. "Go to your Watcher," Rei said, her tone shifting from challenging to informative. "Mention to him the name Rei Mori. Tell him he should have received a call from the Council via a Watcher named Joe Dawson. Inform him that the Master is alive and trapped within the Hellmouth. And tell him the Harvest is coming. You two have a good night."
Rei reached into the pocket of her coat, and the sisters noticed the glint of a sword dangling there from a makeshift holder. She withdrew two small boxes and tossed them to Buffy and Faith, who caught them reflexively. Without another word, she turned and walked out of the alley, her figure blending into the darkness.
Faith and Buffy watched Rei go, their eyes tracking her until she melted into the shadows. The silence of the alley seemed to deepen in her absence. Slowly, they looked down at the boxes in their hands and carefully opened them. Inside each box was a cross attached to a long silver chain, the metal gleaming faintly in the dim light.
They glanced up quickly, scanning the alley for any sign of Rei, but she had disappeared, leaving them with more questions than answers.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Unbeknownst to Rei, she had been followed just as she had followed Buffy and Faith. The shadows played tricks on the eyes, but Marie and Savannah, cloaked under a cover spell, watched her every move with keen, practiced eyes. The spell rendered them nearly invisible, their forms blending seamlessly into the darkness around them. Rei walked past their hiding spot, her steps confident and unhurried, oblivious to the watchful eyes tracking her.
A moment later, they observed Buffy and Faith exit the alley, their expressions a mix of curiosity and cautious determination.
"Aunt Dawn," Savannah whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. "Mom appears to have always been quick on her feet."
"Yes," Marie replied softly, a note of pride in her voice. "The stereotypical blonde routine Buffy used tended to fool vampires into thinking she was anything but the Slayer. It was a clever ruse, playing on their underestimation of her. Of course, your Aunt Faith was quite the opposite, direct and fierce." She paused, the memories of past battles and strategies flickering through her mind like old film reels.
Savannah nodded, absorbing the history with a mix of awe and respect. "Come on," Marie continued, her voice taking on a more urgent tone. "We need to teleport to the Bronze before Buffy and Faith arrive."
The Bronze
A good-sized crowd milled aimlessly around the Bronze, a hub of activity and energy that buzzed with the excitement of the night. It certainly wasn't a fancy place, Buffy and Faith saw at once, but there was an appealing sort of earthiness about it that seemed to go with the high-school-and-older crowd standing in line. The air was thick with the mingling scents of perfume, cologne, and the faint undertone of sweat, all mingling together to create an atmosphere of vibrant anticipation.
The sisters moved their way up the line, their eyes scanning the throng for a familiar face. The people around them were engrossed in their own conversations, laughter bubbling up here and there, creating a cacophony of sound that added to the Bronze's unique charm. Despite the lively crowd, there was no one here they recognized.
Inside, the place was dark and noisy, illuminated sporadically by the flashing lights that accompanied the music. The band on stage blasted wildly, the soundwaves pulsing through the packed room and reverberating in their chests. Yet, despite the high energy, the crowds seemed relatively well-behaved, an unspoken camaraderie holding the chaos at bay.
The sisters pushed their way through, still looking around for someone they knew. The crowd parted occasionally, giving glimpses of dancing figures, animated conversations, and the occasional spill of drinks. Eventually, they spotted Willow at the bar. The girl was shyly ordering a soda, her demeanor a stark contrast to the bustling environment around her. Her Peter Pan collar and sweater made her look endearingly out of place amidst the more daring fashion choices of the other patrons.
"Hi!" Buffy smiled, her greeting bright and welcoming.
"Oh, hi!" Willow looked surprised and pleased at the same time, a smile spreading across her face. "Hi."
"Are you here with someone?" Faith wondered, her eyes scanning the area around Willow.
"No, I'm just here. I thought Xander was gonna show up..." Willow's voice trailed off, a hint of disappointment evident.
"Oh, are you guys going out?" Buffy asked, curiosity piqued.
"No. We're just friends." Willow thought a moment, then added with a small, reflective smile, "We used to go out, but we broke up."
"How come?" Faith asked, her curiosity piqued by Willow's casual mention of a past breakup.
"He stole my Barbie," Willow said, a wistful note in her voice. As the sisters gave her a strange look, she added, "We were five."
"Oh," Buffy and Faith said simultaneously, their expressions shifting to one of understanding mixed with amusement.
Willow took a sip of her soda, the carbonation making her pause for a moment. "I don't actually date a whole lot lately," she continued, the confession tinged with a hint of self-deprecation.
"Why not?" Buffy asked, genuinely interested, her brows furrowing slightly.
"Well, when I'm with a boy I like, it's hard for me to say anything cool or witty, or at all..." Willow's voice trailed off, her gaze dropping to the floor as she continued, "I can usually make a few vowel sounds, and then I have to go away."
Faith and Buffy couldn't help laughing at Willow's self-deprecating humor. The image of Willow, usually so articulate and composed, struggling with a simple conversation brought a sense of light-heartedness to the moment. "It's not that bad," Faith said, trying to reassure her friend.
"It is," Willow insisted, shaking her head slightly. "I think boys are more interested in a girl who can talk."
"You really haven't been dating lately," Faith said, the observation more of a statement than a question.
"It's probably easy for you two," Willow said, her tone shifting to one of mild envy. She glanced at Buffy and Faith, who both radiated a confident, effortless charm that seemed to make social interactions look simple.
"For me," Buffy said with a shrug, her tone casual and nonchalant. "Not really, I'm more into girls."
"Translation Buffy's gay," Faith said, her voice laced with sarcasm as she added a wink for good measure. "Me, on the other hand, yeah, it's easy," she continued, the irony clear in her tone.
"I didn't think either of you seemed shy," Willow said, her curiosity evident. She took a sip of her soda, her eyes shifting between Buffy and Faith, clearly intrigued by their contrasting personalities.
"Well, our philosophy is—" Buffy broke off, glancing at Faith with a smile. "Do you want to hear our philosophy?"
"I do," Willow said eagerly, her eyes bright with anticipation.
"Life is short," Faith said simply, her expression serious but earnest.
Willow fixed them with a steady gaze, as if weighing the gravity of their words. "Life is short," she repeated, the phrase taking on a new depth as she considered its meaning.
"Not original, we'll grant you," Buffy shrugged, her tone self-deprecating. "But it's true. Why waste time being all shy? Why worry about some guy or girl and if he or she is going to laugh at you? You know? Seize the moment. 'Cause tomorrow you might be dead."
"Oh..." Willow smiled, the sentiment resonating with her. "That's nice..."
Buffy's glance went quickly around the crowded club, her gaze scanning the area with practiced vigilance. As she spotted someone moving about on the balcony above them, her brow creased in a frown. The figure was shifting through the throng, seemingly out of place or perhaps just too familiar. Buffy nudged Faith, who followed her gaze with a nod, understanding the unspoken concern.
"We'll be back in a minute," Faith promised, her tone light but resolute. She glanced at Buffy, who gave a reassuring nod.
"That's okay," Willow assured her, her voice soft and resigned. "You two don't have to come back."
Smiling at their friend's self-effacing attitude, Faith repeated more firmly this time, "We'll be back in a minute."
Buffy and Faith weren't entirely sure if Willow heard them. The girl's head was lowered, her gaze fixed intently on the soda in her hand as she murmured to herself, "Seize the moment..." The mantra seemed to be a source of comfort or perhaps inspiration as the sisters turned and moved swiftly through the lively crowd.
It didn't take long for Buffy and Faith to locate the stairs leading to the balcony. They navigated their way through the throng of people with practiced ease, pushing their way upward. The music from below grew faint as they reached the top, and the dimly lit balcony offered a reprieve from the frenetic energy of the main floor.
Once on the balcony, they spotted Marie, Savannah, and Giles standing fairly close to each other near the railing. The trio appeared engaged in a hushed conversation, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of the club's lights. Buffy and Faith managed to find a spot next to Giles, their presence adding to the small gathering.
"So, you like to party with the students?" Buffy teased Giles and Marie, her voice carrying a playful edge. "Isn't that kind of skanky?"
Giles's response was a withering look, his tone dry and unimpressed. "Right. This is me having fun."
"More like," Marie interjected, her voice smooth but tinged with amusement. "I'm here spending time with my niece."
"Watching Clown-hair prance about is hardly my idea of a party," Giles continued, his voice dripping with disdain. "I'd much prefer to be home with a cup of Bovril and a good book."
Faith rolled her eyes dramatically, a smirk tugging at her lips. "You need a personality, stat," she quipped, her sarcasm cutting through the conversation like a knife.
"This is a perfect breeding ground for vampire activity," Giles admonished Faith, his tone carrying an edge of urgency.
Buffy and Faith exchanged glances, their confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. They then looked over at Marie and Savannah, both of whom seemed unfazed by Giles's reference to vampires. It struck them as curious how neither of the women had shown any surprise at the mention of creatures of the night. Their nonchalant demeanor only added to the unease Buffy and Faith felt.
"Dark, crowded," Giles continued, emphasizing the danger with a knowing nod. "Besides, I knew you two were likely to show up. And I have to make you understand—"
"That the Harvest is coming, we know, your friend told us," Buffy interjected, her voice steady but tinged with irritation at being interrupted.
Giles's composure faltered momentarily. He shot Buffy an anxious glance, his concern evident. "What did you say?"
"The… Harvest," Buffy repeated slowly, her brows furrowing as she tried to gauge Giles's reaction. "That means something to you? 'Cause I'm drawing a blank. Faith?"
"Me too," Faith said, shrugging slightly. Her tone was equally uncertain, mirroring Buffy's confusion.
"I'm not sure... Who told you this?" Giles asked, his voice low and hesitant, as if dreading the answer.
"She said her name was Rei Mori," Faith replied, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. "About my height, Japanese, said she was immortal and had at one time been a Slayer."
Giles's eyes widened in shock, a mixture of surprise and worry flashing across his face. "She contacted the two of you?" he asked, his voice nearly a whisper, laden with disbelief.
"You know who she is?" Buffy asked, her tone laced with both confusion and a hint of irritation.
"Yes," Giles confirmed, his expression serious and troubled. "She was a Slayer at the end of the sixteenth century, when she died. She's now immortal. The Watcher's Council no longer considers her an active Slayer. What did she say, exactly?"
Buffy turned her gaze to Faith, seeking confirmation. "She told us she was immortal. For us to ask you about her and that you should have received a call from someone named Joe Dawson."
"I know of him," Giles said, his tone thoughtful. "Joe Dawson is part of the Council that chronicles the lives of immortals. Though I was under the impression he was Duncan MacLeod's Watcher."
"Duncan MacLeod?" Savannah inquired; her curiosity piqued. Her eyes darted between Giles and the others, eager for more information.
"An Immortal," Giles explained, his voice carrying the weight of his knowledge. "Slightly older than Rei Mori. He was the first Immortal that Rei Mori came into contact with, if I am not mistaken."
"So, she was telling the truth?" Buffy pressed, her eyes searching Giles's face for confirmation.
"Yes," Giles affirmed, his voice carrying a mix of relief and concern.
Just then, Faith's voice cut through the conversation, drawing Buffy, Giles, Savannah, and Marie's attention. "Buffy," she said, her tone urgent and focused. She pointed with her chin, causing everyone to follow her gaze. "Isn't that Willow?"
Buffy looked down from the balcony, her gaze narrowing as she spotted Willow engaged in conversation with a strikingly handsome guy. His appearance was a stark contrast to the contemporary fashion of the nineteen nineties. He was dressed as if he had stepped out of the nineteen seventies, his outfit old-fashioned and out of place amidst the club's modern crowd. His jacket, with its sleeves rolled up and its fabric worn, seemed to almost declare an era long gone.
"And the guy she's with is a vampire," Buffy said, her voice laced with urgency.
"Are you sure?" Giles asked, his tone tinged with concern and disbelief.
It was Savannah, not Buffy or Faith, who answered. "Look at his jacket," she said, her tone clipped and observant. "He's got the sleeves rolled up. And the shirt… it's carbon dated!"
"Savannah's right," Buffy agreed, her expression grim as she scanned the scene below. "Only someone who's been living underground for ten years would think that was the look. Oh no…"
Her heart raced as she watched the vampire motioning for Willow to come with him. Willow, unaware of the danger, began to follow him willingly.
"What is she doing?" Giles asked, his voice tinged with panic as he tried to comprehend the unfolding situation.
"Seizing the moment," Faith shot back, her voice edged with determination. As she spoke, she and Buffy quickly moved toward the stairs, their urgency palpable.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Not far away, Rei had been closely observing the unfolding situation from her concealed vantage point. Her sharp eyes missed nothing. She was intrigued and somewhat perplexed by Giles's choice to mention vampires in such a public setting, especially when surrounded by civilians. Rei's experience told her that such a discussion could draw unnecessary attention and panic, which made her wonder if Giles was aware of something about Marie and Savannah that she did not. Her gaze lingered on Marie and Savannah, who, despite Rei's scrutiny, were unfamiliar to her. Rather than follow Buffy and Faith, who had already headed downstairs to confront Willow's perilous situation, Rei decided to shadow Marie and Savannah as they exited the Bronze in search of their own target.
Rei watched as Marie and Savannah moved purposefully through the dimly lit streets. Her interest piqued when Marie sniffed the air, a frown creasing her brow. Marie's keen senses were evidently at work, trying to locate Willow amidst the throng of human scents.
"There are too many humans," Marie said to Savannah, who nodded in understanding. The two then swiftly made their way around the Bronze, disappearing down a side alley. Rei, maintaining a cautious distance, followed them through the narrow passageway, her footsteps light and barely audible on the asphalt.
Her eyes widened in astonishment as she witnessed what happened next. Once Marie and Savannah were sufficiently away from the crowded area, Marie began to undress, revealing a serious intent to transform. Rei's breath caught in her throat as Marie shed her clothes and started the transformation. It was a seamless, fluid change from human to wolf, the process both mesmerizing and unsettling to behold. Marie's body grew in size, her limbs elongating and shifting, until a full-fledged wolf stood in her place. Savannah, unfazed, carefully packed Marie's discarded clothes into a backpack with practiced efficiency.
Rei observed this transformation with a mixture of fascination and realization. "So that is likely what the Watcher knows," she mused quietly to herself. It became clear that Marie was not just an ordinary individual but had the ability to shift into a powerful wolf form, a fact that Giles might have been aware of and perhaps even expected.
Without hesitation, Rei followed in the wake of Savannah and the newly transformed Marie. She kept a careful distance, positioning herself downwind to avoid detection. The two figures, now in their wolf form and human companion, moved with impressive speed and agility.
Restfield Cemetery
Their destination became apparent as they arrived at a mausoleum, a grim and fitting locale for their next move. Both Marie and Savannah paused at the mausoleum's door, their bodies tense and alert.
Inside the mausoleum, the air was thick with an eerie, cold mist that clung to the stone walls and reflected the dim, flickering light of a single, failing bulb. The atmosphere was tense and charged, every shadow seemingly pregnant with the potential for violence. Darla, with her predatory grace and a dangerous edge in her voice, glared at Buffy and Faith, her gaze sharp and unyielding.
"Who the hell are you?" she growled, her tone laden with contempt and curiosity. The question was almost dismissive, a challenge wrapped in disdain.
"Wow, you mean there's actually somebody around here who doesn't know already?" Buffy shot back, her voice laced with sarcasm and a hint of amusement. The quip was sharp, but there was a lightness to it that seemed almost out of place in the grim setting.
"That's a relief," Faith added, her tone equally dry. "I'm telling you, having a secret identity in this town is a job of work." She cast a sidelong glance at Buffy, the faintest smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.
As Buffy and Faith held Darla's attention with their banter, Xander took advantage of the distraction. He moved with a mix of urgency and determination between the two vampires, his actions surprising both Darla and the other vampire, who had previously been preoccupied with holding Willow and Jesse captive. The vampires' grips on their victims slackened, giving Xander an opportunity to shift the balance of the encounter.
"Faith, Buffy, we bail now, right?" Xander prompted, his voice laced with anxiety and a touch of relief. His gaze flickered between the sisters and the trapped duo, a silent plea for their quick decision.
But the vampire who had been holding Willow and Jesse was not finished yet. He managed to regain some composure, his eyes narrowing as he snarled defiantly, "Not yet."
"Okay, first of all, what's with this outfit?" Buffy taunted, her voice carrying a mocking tone. "Live in the now, okay? You look like DeBarge." Her comment was sharp, intended to provoke and unsettle.
Faith, ever the picture of nonchalance, turned her gaze to Darla. "Now, we can do this the hard way, or... well, actually, there's just the hard way." Her words were spoken with a casual confidence that belied the seriousness of the situation.
Darla's posture was rigid, her defiance clear as she squared her shoulders. "Fine with me." Her response was curt, her resolve unshaken.
"You sure?" Buffy's tone was a blend of challenge and dark humor. "It's not gonna be pretty. We're talking violence, strong language, adult content." Her words painted a vivid picture of the impending confrontation, setting the stage for a battle that promised to be as intense as it was unavoidable.
Even as the sisters spoke with a casual bravado, Willow's date took a sudden, aggressive move. He rushed at Buffy from behind with the swiftness of a striking serpent. His approach was almost too fast to follow, his movements a blur of predatory intent. However, Buffy was ready. With a fluid, practiced motion, she drew a stake from beneath her jacket. The stake sliced through the air, driven by an almost imperceptible, but deadly force.
There was a muffled puncture sound as the stake met its mark, penetrating the vampire's torso. His eyes widened in a mix of shock and disbelief, a look of stunned realization crossing his face. The momentum of his charge halted abruptly, and he staggered for a moment before collapsing to the cold, unforgiving floor.
The moment his body hit the ground, it began to disintegrate, turning into a cloud of ash and dust that swirled in the dim light of the mausoleum. Buffy and Faith didn't even spare a glance at the now-vanquished vampire. Their focus remained unwavering on Darla, their expressions grim and determined.
"See what happens when you roughhouse?" Faith said with a trace of mockery, her tone devoid of sympathy. The comment was directed at Darla, her voice carrying a hint of satisfaction over the swift elimination of their opponent.
Xander and Willow stood frozen, their eyes wide with disbelief. They could only stare at the empty space where the vampire had been moments before. The abrupt and efficient end of the confrontation left them stunned, the suddenness of the scene unfolding before them almost too surreal to process.
Darla, meanwhile, was far from intimidated. Her gaze was wide and wary, but her demeanor remained resolute and unyielding. She moved deliberately around Faith and Buffy, her posture a clear indication that she was preparing to engage them directly. Her expression was a mix of disdain and determination.
"He was young," Darla said, her voice dripping with disgust. "And stupid." Her words were a dismissive judgment of the fallen vampire, reflecting her contempt for what she perceived as a lack of competence.
"Xander, go," Buffy ordered firmly, her eyes never leaving Darla.
"Don't go far," Darla echoed, her voice carrying a subtle threat as she prepared to make her move.
Without further warning, Darla lunged at Faith with a ferocity that belied her earlier composure. Faith met her head-on, her movements a blur of martial arts precision. She parried Darla's powerful blows with practiced ease, the clash of their combat reverberating through the confined space. Meanwhile, Xander took charge of the situation, guiding Willow and Jesse away from the immediate danger, his actions a blend of urgency and concern.
Xander and Willow raced through the door, their breaths coming in ragged gasps as they half-dragged, half-carried Jesse between them. The dense foliage blurred past them, the underbrush rustling with every hurried step. They did not notice Marie and Savannah as they passed them, their presence nearly invisible in the cloak of night.
"You know, we just wanted to start over," Buffy said peevishly, her frustration evident as she pinned one foot firmly on Darla's chest. "Be like everybody else. Have some friends, maybe a dog… but no. You had to come here. You couldn't go suck on some other town."
Her words were laced with a mix of irritation and disbelief, as if she was trying to make sense of the chaotic turn their evening had taken. Darla glared up at Buffy with a look of pure fury, her eyes blazing with anger.
"Who are you two?" Darla demanded, her voice low and dangerous.
"Don't you know?" Faith replied, her tone almost mocking. But before she could continue, a powerful hand shot out and closed around her throat, lifting her effortlessly from the ground. Faith's eyes widened in shock as she struggled to breathe. From the corner of her vision, she saw that Buffy was in the same predicament, suspended and struggling against the unseen force.
"I don't care," Luke said in a slow, deliberate tone, his voice a chilling growl.
The sisters hadn't sensed his approach, their attention consumed by their immediate confrontation with Darla. With a flick of his wrist, Luke tossed them into the air as if they were mere ragdolls. They soared fifteen feet before crashing down heavily, their bodies slamming against the wall with jarring force. Buffy and Faith hit the wall face-first, the impact leaving them dazed and disoriented.
Luke turned his attention to Darla, who was struggling to get back on her feet. His face was a mask of frustration and anger.
"You were supposed to be bringing an offering for the Master," Luke berated her, his voice filled with menace. "We're almost at Harvest, and you dally with these children?" His tone made it clear that Darla's failure was a serious infraction, a misstep that could have dire consequences.
Darla, now visibly frightened, tried to defend herself, her voice trembling. "We had someone," she began, pointing a shaky finger at Buffy. "But they came and she killed Thomas," she said as she shifted her gaze to Faith. "And Luke," she said, turning to the imposing figure of Luke, "she's strong."
Luke fixed Darla with a contemptuous stare, his gaze dripping with disdain. "You go. I'll see if I can handle the little girls." As Darla retreated, Luke turned his full attention to Buffy and Faith, closing in on them with predatory intent. He grabbed them with a force that seemed to anticipate their stunned state, but this time they were prepared. The sisters swiftly knocked his arms away, their movements sharp and coordinated. They kicked him smartly in the face, a blow that made him stagger back slightly. However, Luke's recovery was swift; he countered with a solid punch to each of their jaws, the impact leaving both Buffy and Faith reeling.
"You both are strong," Luke muttered, his voice a blend of grudging respect and irritation. With a renewed force, he slammed them back to the ground, a throaty laugh escaping his lips. "I'm stronger."
Buffy and Faith scrambled to their feet, their bodies still tingling from the blows but their spirits undeterred. They circled slowly around the tomb, strategically positioning it between themselves and Luke. The old stone structure provided a much-needed barrier against the relentless vampire.
"You two are wasting my time," Luke said calmly, his tone icy and dismissive.
"Hey," Buffy retorted, her voice edged with frustration. "We had other plans, too, okay?" She and Faith exchanged a determined glance, their resolve hardening as they faced off against their formidable opponent.
Luke's eyes narrowed with irritation. He shoved at the lid of the tomb with a powerful thrust. The heavy stone slab hurtled straight at the sisters. Reacting with practiced agility, Buffy and Faith leaped over the incoming slab, their movements synchronized and fluid. They landed on top of it with precision. Using the momentum, they flipped over and aimed both feet at Luke's chest, attempting to knock him off balance.
The impact sent all three tumbling to the ground, but Faith and Buffy managed to rise first. They pulled out their stakes with determined efficiency and drove them toward Luke's chest. But Luke's reflexes were lightning-fast; his hands shot out and grasped the stakes just before they could pierce his flesh.
"You two think you can stop me?" Luke's face contorted with rage, his eyes blazing with a mix of fury and incredulity. "Stop us?" His grip tightened around the stakes, and with a crushing force, he splintered them like fragile matchsticks. The sudden breakage was followed by a brutal punch that sent Faith and Buffy sprawling backward, their bodies crashing against the cold, hard floor.
"You have no idea what you're dealing with," Luke snarled, his voice dripping with menace.
He stood over the defeated sisters, a victorious smirk playing on his lips. His voice lowered as he began to intone the sacred text, his tone taking on a dark, ritualistic cadence. "And like a plague of boils, the race of man covered the earth. But on the third day of the newest light will come the Harvest..."
Faith, her vision slightly blurred from the impact, noticed that Buffy appeared to be in a dazed state, her movements sluggish. Just as she prepared to re-engage in the fight, a low, menacing growl interrupted her focus. She looked up, her eyes widening as a massive wolf crouched at the door of the mausoleum. The wolf's eyes glinted with a feral intensity, and without warning, it leapt into the fray.
