317 Bryant Terrace
Sunnydale, California (the Wishverse)
13 December 1998
The pair of childhood friends tentatively approached the door to the master bedroom suite. The petite red headed woman gently rapped on the door while her tall male companion anxiously shuffled from one foot to the other. They didn’t receive an answer, so Willow knocked on the door a second time. When there was still no answer, Xander pounded on it.
"Xander!"
"Come on, Will," Xander said with a nod toward the bedroom. "You know us. We probably tired each other out so much, only an explosion could wake us up." He took in Willow's sick expression and said, "What?"
"Will you stop referring to the other us'es as ‘us,’ ‘we,’ or anything else in the first person?" she pleaded. "Cordelia would freak. Especially about the sex talk."
"How about Oz?" Xander asked playfully. They stared at each other for a second before Xander nodded. "Right. Dumb question."
The click of the lock being thrown caught their attention. The door flew open and revealed Vamp Willow standing before them, wearing a smile. "What's up?"
Willow and Xander just stared at the vampire as she nonchalantly waited for an answer to her question. Considering she hadn't put any clothes on before answering the door, it was an understandable reaction by the childhood friends.
"Uh, uh, uh. . ." Xander muttered before Willow smacked him in his arm. "OW!"
"Stop looking at me like that!" Willow ordered.
"I don't mind," Vamp Willow said with a sultry grin. "It *is* Xander. It's nothing he hasn't seen before."
Willow began to hyperventilate. "WHAT?!?"
"HER Xander, Willow! Sheesh!" the warrior moaned. Discretion being the better part of valor, he turned around to avoid getting into further trouble with his best friend.
"Hey, his butt's just as tight as MY Xander's," Vamp Willow cooed.
"Uh, uh. . ." the Wiccan caster babbled for several moments before she recovered her faculties and remembered their reason for coming to the room. She held out a bundle and said, "Here. These are for you."
Vamp Willow blinked. "This looks just like your outfit...my normal outfit."
"Toby did what elves call 'kenning,'" the witch hastily explained. "It makes an exact copy of any item he examines."
Vamp Willow grinned. "Cool." She took the corset first and asked, "How closely did he have to examine it?"
"Real..." Willow started to say before she saw Vamp Will's smirk. "Now cut that out!"
"You're no fun," the souled teen said with a pout. She took the rest of the outfit. "You have anything for Xander, too?"
"I am *not* turning around, Will," Xander swore.
"Can't blame a demon hacker for trying."
Willow took the bundle from Xander and handed it to Vamp Willow, who was now heavily loaded with clothing. The longer-haired Rosenberg froze when she heard the running water in the shower. She said, "I guess we got here just in time."
"What do you mean?"
Willow pointed past her doppelganger. "I heard your Xander in the shower."
Vamp Willow turned and glanced at the shower. Then she turned back to smirk at the little red witch. "Willow, Xander's in bed. He's still sleeping."
Xander, caught up in the conversation, turned around. "Wait a minute. If you're at the door, and the other me's in bed, who's in the shower?"
Vamp Willow shrugged her bare shoulders. "Sonja and Gabrielle. I gotta get dressed. Talk to you later."
Vamp Willow closed the door, leaving the stammering Slayerettes staring at the door, but they didn't see it. They had too many disturbing images ((Author's note: Disturbing to Xander and Willow maybe, but not to us if early reader comments are any indication)) stampeding through their minds. They stood there for ten minutes before recovering enough of their senses to draw their attention away from the revelation they'd just been handed.
Willow squeaked, "Xander, you. . . me. . ."
"Oh no," he countered, frantically waving his hands. "Not me. NOT ME!"
"Sonja. . . me. . ."
"Willow, breathe."
Willow did so and regained some of her composure. "Xander," she said, her voice two octaves higher than normal, "are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Whether Sydney offers group discounts for treating the same psychological traumas?" he ventured.
"Yeah."
Xander nodded. "Way ahead of you." He paused. "That is, *me* me, not the me that you and the other girls wore out."
"XANDER!!"
Willow slowly stumbled into the kitchen and found Oz, Cordelia, and Amy sitting at the table drinking coffee. The trio looked up at her as she sat down, a stunned look on her face.
"Netgirl?" Cordelia asked. When Willow's head slowly panned to face her, the Amazon asked, "You wanna join us in *this* reality?"
"Uh..."
"Will, what's wrong?" Cordy asked. She glanced at Oz and said, "Oh...you found out."
"Yeah," the redhead reluctantly admitted.
Her fellow Amazon sighed. "I know. I know. I wigged out, too."
"How did YOU find out?!?" Willow asked, blanching a bit.
"They were in plain sight," Cordelia replied with a shiver. "Oz and Larry sleeping together! Augh."
Willow stopped whatever she was going to say in response and her eyes glazed over. "Oz and Larry?"
"Yeah," Oz confirmed. "Strange."
"Understatement much?" the dark-haired warrior grumbled. "When did you see it, Willow?"
"I-I-I...I didn't."
Amy frowned and said, "But you said you found out."
"Not Larry and Oz!" Willow whined. She buried her face in her hands and moaned. "Me and Xander..."
"Will, they're a couple," Cordelia reminded her. "They sleep together all the time."
"Not with Sonja and Gabrielle!"
Willow suddenly found herself targeted by three sets of eyeballs.
Amy whispered, "The kid vamps slept with the Charlie's Angels wannabes?"
Amy now found *herself* targeted by three sets of eyeballs.
"What?" the New Salemite asked. "So they slept together."
Cordelia was looking green in the face. "Will, please tell me you're joking." When Willow shook her head, the warrior woman's head banged into the table. "I'm gonna be seeing Sydney for *decades*!"
"Who's Sydney?" the confused Amy asked.
Oz replied, "Shrink."
"Oh," the Wishverse witch mumbled.
"I'll be lying on his couch next to you," Willow sighed in despair, then hurriedly added, "in a non-sexual, totally platonic way, of course." She glanced at Oz and asked, "How about you?"
"Huh."
Amy looked at Cordelia. "Is he always like this?"
"Except during the full moon," Queen C lamented. "Sometimes we watch just to make sure he's still breathing."
Amy nodded as Sonja walked into the kitchen with a demure smile on her face. She glanced at Cordelia and said, "Now I see why you keep Xander around."
"Oh, don't *even* go there!" Cordelia warned her fellow Amazon.
"Hey, I'm serious, Cordelia," the barbarian offered with a chuckle. "He's good for someone his age. Or at least, this one is. Want to compare notes?"
"NO!!" Cordelia shouted.
"Your loss," Sonja said. She turned to Oz. "How about you? Want to compare redheads?"
Willow's eyes rolled up as she passed out from utter dread at that prospect. Oz had to move to keep her from toppling out of her chair.
Cordelia snarled, "Are you happy now?"
"Oh, trust me," the Hyborean giggled like a schoolgirl, "I've been happy for several hours."
She then turned and walked out, leaving the others to stare at the empty doorway.
After reviving Willow, Oz, Cordelia, and Amy watched her work on the computer. The hacker did it more to keep herself distracted than anything else. Gabrielle entered the room and was tactful enough not to mention the early morning events. She headed into the kitchen, apparently unaware of the stares directed her way.
As she vanished from view, Amy said, "Is it me, or was everyone waiting for the bomb to drop?"
"It's not just you," Willow muttered as she scanned the blueprints.
"Will, any idea on what the battle plan will be?" Amy asked.
"No. I gave up trying to anticipate Steve's planning methods months ago."
Gabrielle walked out of the kitchen, holding a glass of water. She glanced at the computer and asked, "Have Steve or Buffy come down yet?"
"No, not yet," the nervous brunette said testily. "But I'm sure you'll be the first to know. That is, if you're not 'sleeping' on the job."
No, that was a one-time deal," the bard stated. She grinned and said, "I'll say this for Willow and Xander, though; they give great hickies."
The four kids stared at the twenty-five hundred year old warrior in silence. The Amazon Queen downed half her water in a single gulp and glanced at the teens watching her. "I need the water. They wore me out."
Willow's mouth started twitching as she listened to Gabrielle reminisce about her nocturnal activities. Oz gripped her shoulders and started kneading in an attempt to calm her down.
Cordelia's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Look, Gabbie. We're officially Wigging over what you and the Slutty Red Giant pulled last night! Willow is freaking, so stop being Miss Foreplay-Replay..."
"Cordy!" Willow croaked.
"AUGH!" the Prom Queen moaned. She turned her eyes back onto the Queen and said, "See what you've done!"
Without warning, a dark cloud stormed across the beautiful bard’s face, causing a sense of complete and utter panic to flood each teen. "Is self-absorption and prejudice the only states of being you people exist in?" she snapped. "All we did was relieve some of the guilt Xander and Willow were feeling," Gabrielle riposted with a cold tone. "Obviously, you *didn't* notice they were starving themselves over the guilt they feel. For once, think about how *they* felt before Sonja and I showed them that not everyone prejudges them. If I were you, I’d be very careful before you go and condemn us!" She sipped some more water, then took on a syrupy sweet tone. "Oh, I probably shouldn’t have to remind you of this, but…" then her voice became hard and cold. "I don’t believe a fifteen thousand year old woman nor a twenty-five hundred year old woman need your approval before we engage in an activity that doesn’t involve YOU. So, I’d appreciate if you’d go fuck yourselves and keep your noses out of our business!"
Gabrielle finished her water and glared harshly at them. "Self-absorb *that*."
After her parting shot, she turned and stormed back into the kitchen, leaving the teenagers to wallow in guilty silence.
Cordelia whispered, "Damn…we’re lower than dirt, aren’t we?"
Amy nodded, as did Willow and Oz.
"Damn…she’s a lot scarier than she looks, isn’t she?"
Amy nodded, as did Willow and Oz.
"Damn…we’re lucky she left without spilling our guts on the floor, aren’t we?"
Amy nodded, as did Willow and Oz.
"Well," Oz observed, "hanging with a Warrior Princess who slaughtered and pillaged for decades is probably not the best way to deal with managing her anger."
"But," Willow said hesitantly. "If they'd just stop hinting that it was me and Xander, specifically, maybe it wouldn't freak me out so bad."
"Maybe, Will," Cordelia conceded, "but, she’s right. Not once did we make sure they were fed. We were going to let them go into battle without any nourishment. Man," she whined, "I hate this gig sometimes! It’s so hard to be sensitive to the needs of others when you’re always on a ‘save the world’ jag!" Cordelia took a few cleansing breaths, then shrugged and chirped, "Okay…I’m over it! I'm going to get Steve and Buffy and see if they're ready to start discussing battle plans."
The senior took off, leaving the other three amazed by her ability to compartmentalize life. Willow continued to go through the building plans laid out by her twin while Amy and Oz watched.
Amy softly asked, "Are you okay?"
"I will be," Willow sighed. She shut down the computer and said, "I just have to accept that this world is whacked."
"Hey!"
Willow turned to Amy. "Goddess, Amy, come on! Look at this place; the Master’s alive, Angel's good..."
"I'm not my mom," Amy sarcastically added.
"At least you didn't sleep with the other me."
"Yeah, I know," the Colorado native admitted. Anger flashed in her eyes. "I'm still pissed they didn't invite me."
Willow froze and started turning red in the face. Amy laughed at her and said, "Relax! Sheesh, I'm just kidding!" She paused, then added, "Mostly."
"Need to learn when to stop the pep talks," Oz noted.
"Willow," Amy offered, leaning over and laying a supportive hand on the redhead's shoulder, "just let it go. This Willow is different from you in a number of ways, and that's all there is to it. But you really need to loosen up, Rosenberg. You keep letting this screw with your mind, we're gonna be screwed when the spells start flying. Okay?"
Sobered by that observation, Willow eyed Amy for some seconds before breaking the stare. "You're right," she said seriously. "I have to pull myself together. Thanks, Amy."
"No problem," Amy grinned. "Now, let's stop this technostuff and compare some spells. I wanna know how you Amazon sword-witches do things on your world."
Willow smiled in anticipation of that. "Sure!" she gushed. "Come on."
Steve finally completed his review of the plans of the two major and four minor lairs that Vamp Willow had produced. Afterwards, he went over the plans with the combined assault force, indicating the composition of the assaults as well as the contingencies to cut off the enemy’s escape routes. After nearly an hour of comparing notes with the natives of the Wishverse, the Wanderer decided on the finishing touches.
"All right," Steve said with a note of relief, "let’s get this show on the road. We’ll review assault team composition and basic plans of attack for all five raid sites..."
"Excuse me, Mr. St. Wolf," Wish Giles interjected, "but there are only four minor lairs here."
"The fifth is the Bronze," Steve said, tapping the blueprints of the club that doubled as a vampire lair. "We’re going to hit that, too."
The Watcher sputtered, "Are you bloody DAFT?!? The Bronze is the Master’s second most important base of operations! There’s no way you can place a force inside without taking massive casualties!"
"Actually, old son," Steve remarked with a sly grin, "I plan on raiding the Bronze for intelligence, rescuing any and all hostages, and eliminating the vampires using only you, Sergeant Jenkins, Cordelia, the Xander and Willow of this universe, Tannim, and Amy."
"WHAT?!?" Ceirdwyn shouted. "Are you nuts?!?"
JP snickered, "Depends on whom you ask." He glanced at his daughter’s lover and asked, "What’s your plan, punk?"
"It’s quite simple," the Immortal stated, bringing the floor plans for the nightclub forward and to the center of the display. "We’re going to use glamour spells on Tannim, Amy, and Cordelia to ‘turn’ them into vampires. While Willow distracts the vampires using her own unique style," he began, smiling at the chuckles coming from Vamp Willow and Xander, "Xander will lead Tannim and Amy to where they keep the human prisoners. Tannim and Amy will use their magic to eliminate the guards. Then Tannim will open one of his gates to send the prisoners out. Cordelia will keep track of what’s going on through a hidden microphone. Once the last of the prisoners is through the gate, our people will get out of Dodge. Once they’re out, hopefully without a single punch being thrown, Giles and Jenkins will destroy the Bronze."
"And just how do you propose we do that?" the sarcastic Celt asked.
Steve grinned at the two Brits. "With one of the rocket launchers I just happened to bring along."
Ceirdwyn and Wish Giles took several seconds to pick their jaws up off the floor.
"M-m-my word," the alternate Rupert whispered in shock. "You do play for keeps, don’t you?"
"It's your universe, your town, they’re your kids, and you’re the Watcher who’s been here for two years. If anyone deserves the honor of pulling the trigger, it’s you." Steve glanced at Ceirdwyn. "Your role is to set up the launcher and make sure Giles points it in the right direction. It’ll be harder than it looks, if his technical skills are anything like our Giles."
The gang got some laughs in at the Watchers’ expense.
"Very funny," Giles muttered, to which Jenny gave him an affectionate squeeze.
"All right," Steve continued, "here’s how we’ll line up; one team each above and below ground. The above ground teams are as follows; at the warehouse will be Jenny, my Giles, and Tobabaird. At the die and tool company will be Keighvin, Tina, and Raul. The chop shop will be handled by my Willow and Genie. At the pool hall will be Catherine, Dharinel, and Robin."
"May I ask why you have these people above ground, Sir Steve?" Dharinel asked, looking less than happy with the prospect of being teamed with a certain fairy.
"Of course, Lord Dharinel," the Texan replied. "These people are all spell casters, who need room to work their magic. The most powerful member of each team will use their magic to determine if there are any prisoners in each location. If there are, the sewer teams will try to rescue them. If not, the magic workers will launch a volley of offensive spells in order to ‘convince’ the vampires to escape through the tunnels."
Gabrielle finished, "At which point, they expose themselves to our close quarters weapons, giving them two options; face our firepower, or risk exposing themselves to wizards, witches, and sunlight."
"Devious," Ceirdwyn said with a smile. "And how can you be sure none of the vampires will know what’s going on from the explosions?"
"That’s why the raids will take place simultaneously," Steve answered. He looked at the fighters carrying their firearms and said, "Remember, you’ll have Dutch loaded wooden and silver bullets. Heart shots will kill with both, but the silver will also work with headshots. He looked at the two JP’s and Hercules. "The JP’s and Kevin will be our reserve, should anything hit the proverbial crapper." He glanced around again and said, "The teams in the sewers will be as follows; under the Bronze and supporting Cordelia’s team will be myself, Sonja, Gabrielle, and Arthur. The warehouse team will be led by Darius, and includes this world’s Connor, Duncan, Mulder, and Scully." Darius nodded solemnly as the people Steve had named began to merge behind him. Steve looked to Duncan MacLeod. "Duncan, your team heads for the tool and die factory. Your team will have our Connor, Mulder, Scully, and Maxine. You and Connor are co-leaders."
"Of course," Duncan seriously agreed.
"Now, the chop shop shouldn’t have any prisoners," the demon hunter said. "But just in case, that team will be my Buffy, Xander, Oz, Randi, Adam, Angel, and four Knights of the Grail. Buffy, you’re in charge. The last group will be the Hunters and the remaining Knights, under the command of James Horton."
"Excuse me," Wish Buffy objected, "how about us?"
"It’s simple, Buffy. Most of the people mentioned all have training or experience that equals or surpasses the training given to the Green Berets and Navy SEALs. Of those who don’t, even you would have a problem matching them. No offense, but Arthur and Randi have Excalibur and Joan of Arc’s sword, Angel has two hundred years of experience on you, and Oz is a werewolf, making it very hard to hurt him, as I doubt these vampires even have guns, let alone silver bullets. As for the training, being an ex-Green Beret and current Knight of the Grail myself, I can speak with some authority on the matter."
"Hey," Wish Oz said, "we can fight."
"I know that, Oz," the Immortal responded, "but I’ll bet you twenty bucks here and now that you’ve never carried an Israeli-issue Uzi submachine gun or Ithaca ‘Shorty’ shotgun equipped with incendiary shells, have you?"
"Uh, no."
Steve nodded. "There’s also a second reason. The teams are likely to be slowed down by any wounded they have to rescue. That means we’ll be bringing wounded in, especially from the Bronze. Besides Ed’s team, that leaves the three of you to set up a triage area using the cots and rollaway beds Genie made last night. Also, this is your town, I figure you’d recognize any vamps trying to pass themselves off as human. Buffy, your vampire sense will help greatly in that regard."
Wish Oz and Larry nodded. Wish Buffy’s eyes flashed for a second, until it sank in that she *was* needed here. "Okay, Rambo. I’ll hang here."
"All right, people," St. Wolf said with a raised voice, "we leave in one hour. Assemble in your assigned teams and ready your gear."
As the teams began moving, Joe Dawson limped over to Steve. "Wanderer, can I talk to you for a minute?"
Steve glanced at Buffy, who nodded to indicate that she could oversee the preparations. "This way, Joe."
As the men walked into this universe’s analog of Steve’s office, which its former owner had been using as a TV room, Joe glared at Steve while the Immortal closed the door.
"Before you start blasting me about teaching the kids from my universe how to fight vampires," the warrior said as he turned to face the Watcher, "they were fighting for two years before I arrived. The girls are Amazons, except for Buffy, and the boys have all had their abilities boosted by Robin’s magic. I don’t need to get into Robin, do I?" A pause. "Does that about cover it?"
"Part of it," Dawson said with a chuckle, but still glaring at the double of an old friend. "But there’s more. Darius and Duncan have both come to me about your girlfriend’s double."
"I don’t suppose it matters that she’s an Immortal, too? Or that she turns eighteen in a month? Or that her own Mother set us up, with tickets to Titanic of all movies?" St. Wolf asked in a tight voice.
Joe rolled his eyes and barked, "Not that one!"
Steve sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I hate dimensional differences." He glared at the chuckling Watcher. "Fine. What about her? If you’re about to tell me she’s a Pre-Immie, I already know."
"Is that why you’re keeping her here, then? To keep from having to explain everything to a newbie in the middle of a mission?"
Steve’s eyes grew icy. "As well as the fact that she has a moderate case of lone wolfitis. Joe, I need people here; we’re sure to have hostages coming here that need medical attention. And while Ed’s team is elite, none of them are equal to Buffy, not even Mindy. I want to be sure that no vamps escape our raids, and if any do find their way here, the Slayer will take care of them. Besides, right now the Master doesn’t know she’s here."
The Factory
Sunnydale, California (the Wishverse)
13 December 1998
"She has returned?"
"That’s what our guide told us before he died," Kronos replied. It was the literal truth. "And it seems she’s accompanied by some reinforcements."
"I highly doubt that," Nest said, waving off the assassin’s claim. He paced as two of his lieutenants watched closely. "The Watchers would never permit it."
"Perhaps the Watchers are the ones who have accompanied her?" a blonde female vampire suggested.
"Perhaps," the Master agreed. He turned to Ramirez and said, "Do you have an opinion on that, Mr. Ramirez?"
The Egyptian frowned and shook his head. "I don’t think it was these ‘Watchers.’ They sound far too ‘genteel’ to equip themselves with firearms, let alone semi- or fully automatic machine guns. We can positively say we heard gunfire."
The Master considered their information. Ramirez and Kronos were professional assassins. They’d know what gunfire sounded like. He finally conceded their point. "I agree with the mortals. It would seem the Slayer has upped the stakes." He turned to his lieutenants. "Send out some runners. Have them inform everyone to be here at sundown." He looked up at the ceiling, staring as if he could see the accursed sun. "Tonight, this town bleeds."
The Sewers (the Bronze)
Under Sunnydale, California (the Wishverse)
13 December 1998
"All right, Cordy," Steve said to the Amazon, "you’re in charge up there."
"We’re doomed," Vamps Willow and Xander innocently chimed.
"Shut up!" the warrior woman snapped in mock threat. She looked at her team and said, "We all know the plan, right?"
Vamp Willow grinned impishly. "I be myself, toying with the poor boys’ affections and distracting them while Xander ‘shows the new kids’ around the place."
Vamp Xander took up the thread. "I take Tannim and Amy back to the prisoner area, we take out the guards quietly if possible, and start evacuating."
Cordelia finished the roll down. "I walk around, listen to the vamps talking so you can get intel from the hidden mike, learn if the Master Dweeb’s planning anything, and take my team out, letting Giles and Jenkins know when to blow this joint."
"Which is only after we rescue all the prisoners," Tannim finished.
"Right," Steve said, pleased at his Amazon led team. "Remember, we’re trying to avoid a fight if possible. Remember, the glamour spells last for only two hours, so be careful." The Wanderer turned to the Vamps. "Xander, Willow, go for it."
The kids nodded and started climbing the rungs that lead to the basement of the Bronze. Gabrielle pulled Cordelia into a motherly hug and whispered, "Go with Artemis' blessing, sister."
Cordelia held the Amazon Queen tightly and whispered, "You, too. I'll take good care of them." Gabrielle gazed into Cordelia's eyes and gently stroked her cheek. Then Cordelia reluctantly turned away and followed the vampires, with Tannim and Amy closely behind her. As the others began to prepare for any opponents that might come, Steve echoed what was going through the minds of Sonja, Gabrielle, and Arthur.
"Be careful, Cordelia."
Vamp Willow waited for the others to scramble out of the sewers before she softly lowered the sewer cover. She stood up and looked at Cordelia. "What happens if someone recognizes you, Cordy?"
The Prom Queen started at the use of her nickname, but brought her mind back to the business at hand. "I’m dead here, remember? Just tell them you and Xander changed me instead and kept it under wraps, so you wouldn’t have to share me with anyone." She paused and then said, "Don’t get any ideas."
"Oh, pooh," Vamp Willow cooed with a pout, followed by giggles from Amy.
Cordelia silently growled and counted to twenty before she stood aside and let Vamp Willow lead the way upstairs. The vampiress brazenly entered the club's main floor, allowing her companions to hear the sounds of the bombastic rock and roll compete with the clack of pool balls colliding. Vamp Willow, once again, in her element, sashayed across the floor, leaving the others to follow her triumphant return.
Vamp Willow saw the faces of several vampires turn her way. She paused, then braced one arm against the doorjamb and thrust her opposite hip to the side, a seductive lick of her lips heralding her arrival. "Howdy, boys! Didja miss me?"
She chuckled at the belated recognition that registered on several faces. She walked in, boots clomping as she strutted toward the bar. She shot a saucy look at the bartender and said, "Cow’s blood, on the rocks."
"Since when do you drink cow’s blood?" the confused vampire asked.
The undead hacker linked her fingers and rested her chin on them. "Since I gained two pounds from drinking gang bangers last week. So full of coke I got high and didn’t know when to stop. A demon’s gotta watch her figure, you know."
The bartender chuckled and began rummaging around. "What happened to you? Last we heard, you and your squeeze disappeared during the big fight with the Slayer."
Vamp Willow blew a raspberry. "Stupid Slayer had her dumb Watcher try to do a spell and fry us. Dumb Watcher sent me to Dallas instead." Her face scrunched up and she shivered. "I actually had to listen to country music! At least Xander landed in Detroit. He only had to put up with Motown oldies."
The room broke into laughter. It died when Vamp Xander led the other three into the room.
"Who the Hell are they?" one vampire demanded, suspicious of out-of-towners.
Vamp Willow rotated her stool to face the crowd. She leaned back against the railing, languidly placing one leg over the other, leading several vamps to try and sneak a peek. She purred, "These are some...friends we picked up on the way back. I’ll make the introductions, so you guys can make them feel at home after Xander shows them the...facilities."
She stared at Cordelia and said, "Some of you might remember Cordelia, our resident Fashion Plate. The boss told us to kill her, but she all but begged us to turn her rather than let her die. So, we turned her. Don’t worry, she’s just as fast and loose now as the writing on the wall in the boys’ locker room said she was while she was breathing."
She let a devious grin form as Cordelia fought down the urge to explode over the comments; this was her show and she was the original showstopper. She looked at Tannim and said, "This is Tannim. Don’t ask about the name, I don’t know. All I know is he’s a good ol’ Oklahoma country boy, cute but not too bright. Good thing for us is that he likes hard rock instead of the music for old or depressed people."
The crowd chuckled at that, but Tannim gave them a salute. "The harder, the better!"
Amongst some cheers of approval, Willow glided off of the barstool and slinked over to Amy. The witch had attracted her own share of attention from the way her leather pants hugged her bottom and legs, while her leather jacket and tank top gave off an aura that this girl had some serious attitude.
"And this," she said, putting an arm around the witch and gazing adoringly at her, "is Amy."
Before she could make any comments about the New Salemite, Amy turned, gently cupped Willow's chin in her right hand, drew the vampiress' pale face toward her own and locked her mouth onto the shorter red head's in a deep and sensual French kiss. As Amy's tongue teased and dueled with Vamp Willow's, the witch took her left hand and gently stroked the vampiress' leather clad bottom. As they continued their kiss while keeping their eyes open and locked on each other's, only Amy spied the pleasant surprise and passion expressed in Willow's witch green orbs. After several glorious moments, Amy reluctantly broke their kiss, smacked her lips, and said, "Before I was turned I was like Willow as she is now. Guess what I’m like now?"
The redheaded vampire’s eyes glazed over with desire, as did those of many of the other customers.
Amy gave Vamp Willow a demure grin and said, "Isn’t that right, sweetie?"
Cordelia groaned inwardly and thought, <Why ME?!?>
Amy took more of the opening she’d made for herself and asked, "Okay, Xander honey, where are the ‘rides’ I heard SO much about on the way here? Willow told me you’ve got people here in cages that I could ride like ponies."
Vamp Xander just chuckled at his girlfriend’s starstruck look and started walking toward the back, where the human prisoners were kept.
"This way, Amy."
The crowd just watched as the forward young woman’s tight pants hugged her curves as she strutted behind the teenager and older male vamp. When they were out of sight, the bartender turned to the vampiress.
"She was like you are now before she got turned?!?"
Recovering quickly, the souled vampiress turned her stool around and licked her lips, savoring Amy's taste. "That’s the theory."
The guy handed Vamp Willow her drink and sighed. "How does Harris find all the good ones?"
Vamp Xander led the spell casters into the back. Tannim and Amy took in the sight and had to fight to keep from visibly shuddering.
There were fifteen humans scattered throughout the storage room. A few were chained or restrained in various positions, but more than half were set up as demented versions of vampire beer taps. Even worse was that the humans had signs taped to their chests, indicating their blood types. Vamp Xander shot the human kegs a look of sympathy. The conscious victims, though, returned his looks with glares of impotent fury.
"Harris?" one of the two guards said uncertainly, surprised to see the missing teen. "When did you get back?"
"Early this morning," Vamp Xander said as the two vamps shook hands. "Seems that the White Hats screwed up a spell during the fight, sent some of us across country. I ended up in Motown." He glanced at Amy and Tannim. "Picked up some new friends along the way."
"Who’s the chick?" the other, larger guard asked.
Amy looked the big man up and down with a predatory fervor. "The name’s Madison, big boy." She strutted toward him. "And you would be?" she asked, giving the jock a seductive look.
"The name’s Percy," the vampire replied. Dragging his eyes off the smiling redhead, Percy glared at Harris. "Hey, Harris, have you presented these two to the Master?"
"Tonight," Vamp Xander assured him. "I just want to keep them out of trouble until then."
"He won’t let me have any fun," the dark-haired witch said like a pouting six-year-old, with an expression to match. "He’s afraid I’ll steal Willsy away from him if he leaves me alone with her for six hours again."
Both vampires felt their jaws dropping. Percy slowly asked, "You and Rosenberg?"
"The kids at my high school didn’t call me Mad-woman for nothing, you know," Amy responded as she turned to give her ‘wanton hussy’ look to the souled man. "Xandy was sooo tuckered out after the girls got through with him last night."
Xander’s jaw dropped as the witch played her role to the hilt. "Uh, Amy, you’re not supposed to kiss and tell, remember?"
"Oh, don’t worry," Amy giggled, "I won’t bore them with details about *kissing*. I’d skip right to the juicy parts."
"Xand," the skinny vampire sighed, "I know a lot of men who’d give their left nut to be you."
"Dude, you have no idea," Xander said, having the same look as the other vampires.
Percy sneered at the girl and said, "Are you saying the great sex idol of Sunnydale, Xander Harris, couldn’t hang with two itsy-bitsy girls? I don’t believe it!"
"Percy, honey," Amy sweetly told the athlete, "trust me. I could have you squeaking for mercy in a matter of seconds if I wanted."
Angered by that challenge to his machismo, Williams walked up and gripped Amy’s wrist. He started to say something about her taunts, but stopped and stared with round eyes when he felt something.
Amy’s pulse.
He shoved the teenager with all of his strength, sending her sprawling into some crates with a crash. So hard was her impact that one of the crates actually splintered.
Percy turned to his fellow vampires to alert them to Amy’s status as a living human, but the shout died in his esophagus when his fellow guard vanished in a cloud of ash.
When Vamp Xander saw Percy’s eyes go wide, he realized the jig was up. <Oh well.>
Not even hesitating, the vampire pulled a slim stake out of his jacket pocket. When the other vamp turned at the sound of the impact, he struck. His former friend dissolved into grave leftovers as the wooden shaft drove into his heart.
Vamp Xander turned to deal with Percy in the vain hope of keeping him from shouting an alarm, but two things stopped him. The first was a sound that suspiciously resembled tearing leather. The second was the sight of Percy stopping short and grasping his throat, as if he were being choked by some unseen assailant.
A low growl dragged his attention from the vampire jock. He looked over and saw Amy stalking forward, her eyes going ebon as she stalked up to Percy, one arm extended, her fingers curled like an eagle’s talons. She raised the arm fractionally, lifting Percy about twelve inches off the ground. Vamp Xander and Tannim watched the alarm in Percy’s eyes grow at his situation.
Amy walked forward until she was only a couple of feet from the choking demon.
With her eyes shining onyx, the Madison girl said, "You done fucked up, dickhead." Without moving, she asked, "Xander, how do we dispose of this piece of shit?"
Admiring Amy’s take-charge attitude, the kid grinned. "Well, quietly I guess."
"Fine," the furious teen decided. She squinted in concentration. Percy flew into the wall at a prodigious rate of speed, falling to the ground in a sprawled heap. Having the wind knocked out of him, the stunned vampire was unable to shout for help before the Colorado witch started chanting.
"Goddess Hecate," the sorceress intoned, causing a cascade of orange energy to encircle and swirl about her, "work thy will! Before thee let the unclean thing crawl!"
In the main barroom, everyone turned to the back door when a series of thumps and thuds was heard emanating from the room.
One vampire asked, "What was *that*?"
"Amy," Vamp Willow and Cordelia answered, one keeping in line with the plan and the other from personal experience with Amy’s double.
"What the Hell is she doing back there?" the bartender asked.
"Foreplay," the redhead replied with a wanting gaze.
"How does Harris find all the good ones?"
Vamp Xander just stared in awe as the teenaged sorceress let the spinning vortex of energy grow by the second. When the column of raw magic reached its apex, Amy threw her arms forward and the energy followed, enveloping Percy.
The former football player was wreathed in the fiery power and screamed as the witch’s spell took effect.
The bartender shuddered when Percy’s scream reached his ears. He shook his head in jealousy. "How-"
Cordelia moaned, "We don’t know how he does it, all right?"
"Speak for yourself," the sexual force of nature purred.
<I am SO going to kill Steve for this!>
Percy vanished into thin air and his clothes fell to the floor in a heap. Tannim smiled in approval while Vamp Xander just stared at the empty space once occupied by Williams.
The leather-clothed woman dusted her hands off and grinned. "I am SO good." Vamp Xander saw her look at him with her smile. "You want to do the honors?"
"What honors?" the confused vampire asked.
Before she could answer, the trio’s attention was snared by a squeak. They, as well as the conscious prisoners, all shifted their eyes to the pile of clothing. Seconds later, something emerged.
As he watched the large rat sniffing the air, Xander blurted, "What the Hell is that?!?"
"Percy," Amy answered with a smirk.
Vamp Xander sputtered, "What the Hell did you do THAT for?!?"
Amy looked puzzled by his outburst. "You said you wanted to do this quietly."
Vamp Xander looked into the Percyrat’s beady black eyes and said, "I can’t believe you turned him into a *rat*!"
"What?" Amy asked in genuine confusion. She glanced at the Percyrat and shrugged. "He’ll be a lot easier to handle now."
"Lady’s got a point," Tannim chuckled as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his Battlestar Galactica Colonial Warrior jacket.
Vamp Xander waved a disgusted hand at the Percyrat. "What the Hell am I supposed to stake him with, a toothpick?!?"
"Oh, for Hecate’s sake," the witch groaned. She stalked forward, lifted her right leg up to her chest, and brought her booted foot crashing down with all the force she could muster.
A second-long squeak later, all was silent.
"Overkill much?" Vamp Xander dryly asked.
"Hey!" she protested. She waved an arm behind her. "Asshole tore the butt of my best leather pants!"
"Is that all?" Tannim laughed.
"Look, Mage Boy," the witch said warningly, "I can’t teleport back to New Salem, I don’t have time to go shopping in this vamp-infested town, and it’s December for Goddess’ sake!"
"You don’t have to teleport or go shopping," Tannim promised. "Toby can ken you a new pair or fix these ones."
"Fine," Amy said, maintaining a surprising level of professionalism despite having her derriere revealed to the world. She said, "Let’s get these people out of here."
As she turned around, Vamp Xander looked at the chuckling mage. "You know, you’re taking this way too easy."
"Which part?" Tannim asked. "The dimension parts or the sex parts?"
"Both."
"The first, I travel Underhill all the time. I work with elves, ghosts, humans, you name it." He grinned sadistically and said, "As for the second, my girlfriend’s pretty unique in her own right."
Vamp Xander shrugged. "Amazon, wizard, Gypsy, librarian, werewolf, Slayer, vampire, angel, Immortal, fairy, elf, ancient legendary king, Goddess or any combination of?"
"Nope. She’s half kitsune," the racecar driver said to the puzzled vampire. He explained, "Japanese fox spirit, pranksters fond of jokes. Basically the same personality as Robin."
"Oh. That’s not so bad," Vamp Xander guessed. "At least she’s half-human."
"She isn’t any part human."
The teenager did a double take. "Then what’s the other half? Fairy?"
Tannim shook his head. "Dragon."
The magician left Vamp Xander stammering for a comeback. <There’s a one-liner about having sex with animals that I’m SO not touching.>
Giving up, he turned to help with the prisoners.
In the lair, Cordelia watched Vamp Willow dance up a storm on the night club’s floor. The vampire would flawlessly switch from a normal American rock style to bawdy, exotic dancer gyrations that the Amazon knew had to be driving the men wild. The raven-haired beauty smiled to herself. She had always suspected that Willow was a head-turner in her own right. As she circulated to gather intelligence per the mission parameters, she couldn’t stop staring, from time to time, at the sentient force of nature that wore the body of the girl whose friendship with Xander had kept him from being with her for so long. And whose friendship with her now had provided Cordelia with the sister she had never had.
She’d been walking around for some time, trying to pick up snatches of conversation that might give her and Steve some indication of what was going on outside the Bronze. Thus far, she hadn’t had any luck whatsoever. Finally, she decided to take a break and sit down.
The latest set ended and Vamp Willow sauntered over to the bar, knowing that every eye in the place was rightfully on her. She grabbed two glasses of blood and breezed over to the table. She set one glass in front of Cordelia, who made a sour face.
"You have got to be kidding," she disgustedly remarked.
The redhead picked up and drained her entire glass in one gulp. She plopped her glass down and shifted her eyes to her partner. "We’re in trouble."
"What?" the Ball Breaker asked, concern etched onto her illusory mask.
Vamp Willow shivered. "The Master’s called in two hit men to take out the White Hats."
"Well, duh! We know that."
"These guys are the best," the hacker whispered. "They prefer taking out high-profile targets. The more security, the better. It’s a challenge thing, I think."
"Anything else?"
Vamp Willow snatched the other glass and took a draught. "Luke, Darla, and the Three are in town," she said in a soft whisper. "The Master called them back after Xander and I disappeared." She shook her head. "This is SO not good."
Cordelia was stunned at the change in the redhead. "Okay, Red, ‘fess up. What’s wrong?"
Vamp Willow hissed, "It was one of the Three who did this to me, Cordelia. And Darla. . ."
"What about her?" the Amazon asked gently. "We’ve beaten them before."
"On your world." The leather-clad teen sighed and said, "It’s not that. You see, Xander and Darla. . ."
"AUGH! Say no more! I can’t believe he’d be caught dead with that skanky ho!"
"We agree on something," Vamp Willow giggled in surprise. "Imagine that."
"No kidding," the cheerleader muttered with a dry grin. She paused and said, "I hope you got that, Steve." She sighed and turned her dark eyes on the grinning vampiress. "I’ve been walking around for an hour and I didn’t get *anything*! How’d you get all that?"
Vamp Willow took a sip of her drink and huskily murmured, "The old fashioned way."
Cordelia stared, then laughed heartily. "You offered them mercy sex."
"Bingo," the crimson-tressed girl smiled. "You have six lined up for tonight."
"WHAT?!?" the Amazon warrior screeched. Fortunately, the music drowned out her outburst.
"Cordy," Vamp Willow sighed, "they’ll be dead soon enough."
"But you’re trashing my rep!"
"Wasn’t very good to begin with."
Cordelia thumped her forehead with the heels of her palms. "Fine!" She sighed and said, "I hope Xander and his group hurry up. I want to get out of here."
"You and me both," the girl whispered. Off of Cordelia’s look, she said, "Hey, I’m into ‘soul’ music now, remember?"
Cordelia’s face softened, but she said, "Stay in the role, kiddo."
"All right," Vamp Willow said, trying to cheer up. She grinned and said, "I know a way to pass the time."
"How?"
The leather lover leaned in close. With a humor-filled whisper, she said, "Let’s compare boyfriends." When Cordelia’s eyes widened in alarm, the computer expert said, "Come on! You have a Xander, I have a Xander. Between the two of us, we can come up with ways to keep them in line and exchange a few of our own tricks."
Cordelia surprised herself by actually warming to the idea. "Oh, what the Hell," she said with a smile. The girls leaned in closer together. "Start dishing, Rosenburg."
In the sewers, Steve moaned and ripped the earphones off his head. Sonja, Gabrielle, and Arthur all looked at him with varying expressions.
Gabrielle harshly hissed, "What are you doing? We need to keep listening! They might need backup!"
"If they needed help, they wouldn’t be comparing notes about their boyfriends," St. Wolf grumbled.
"Who?" Sonja asked, perking up.
Knowing he would immensely regret answering the barbarian’s question, he said, "Willow and Cordelia."
Sonja and Gabrielle looked at each other, then at Steve, and held their hands out. Sonja grinned, "Flip you for it, Gabs."
"Nope," the last Queen of the Amazons said while glancing at the Wanderer. "Hand it over."
Muttering, "I’m getting too old for this shit," Steve smacked the earphones into the blonde’s palm.
With a triumphant grin, the Potadean inserted the listening device into her left ear.
"You know you’ll be sharing the dirt later on, honey," Sonja said with a sweet tone.
<What did I do to deserve this?> Steve asked the universe in general.
Amy walked over to a pair of prisoners while her companions did the same to check on their conditions before sending them to the house. As she drew near a girl her own age, a middle-aged man with thinning hair snarled, "Stay away from her!"
Amy blinked at the vehemence in his voice. She let a look of sympathy come over her face. She gently told the man, "We’re here to get you out."
"Don’t insult my intelligence, bloodsucker," he hissed while struggling against the shackles around his wrist.
Amy reached up and examined the restraints. She said, "I’m going to say this once. Feel for a pulse in my wrist."
Suspicious, the man grasped her wrist. When he felt the blood pumping through her veins, he became confused. "But. . your face. ."
Amy grinned at him. "Ever hear of the Good Witch of the North?" When he nodded in puzzlement, she jerked a thumb at her chest. "Well, I’m the Ass Kicking Witch From the Rocky Mountains."
She chanted a simple unlocking spell. The shackles suddenly sprang open. The man started to fall but caught himself with some aid from Amy. "We’re gonna get you out of here."
"Through the vampires in the club?" the man asked incredulously. "Sure you are."
"Trust me, you can do a lot of things with witchcraft," the Hecatian suggested with a smile. "Let’s check your daughter."
The two of them released her from the chains linking her to the wall and gently brought her to the floor. Amy could see the teen was about her height, but the fiery orange locks possessed by her were natural, unlike Amy’s. The witch felt a surge of anger rumble through her at the holes in the girl’s neck and arms. <Payback’s a bitch. And so am I.>
The man timidly asked, "Jessica?"
The teenager’s eyes fluttered open, trying to focus. She weakly asked, "Dad?"
"It’s okay," he promised, glancing at Amy. "We’re going to get out of here."
Jessica smiled and passed into sleep, reassured by the certainty of her father.
Amy laid a hand on his shoulder and asked, "Can you carry her?"
"I think so, once I get the feeling back in my legs," he admitted. He looked at the two young men releasing other prisoners. "What about them?"
Amy waved off his concerns. "One’s a wizard, he’s alive. The vampire’s on our side since his body got possessed by his soul."
"What?" the befuddled man asked while gently stroking his daughter’s hair.
"He got his soul back," the adolescent replied. "That means the guy who owned the body when he was alive got sent back by the Man Upstairs to stop the demon from doing all sorts of bad stuff with his body. Xander’s pissed at that demon. He’s a good kid, he just doesn’t breathe any more. It’s sorta like the guys from Blues Brothers."
"Excuse me?"
The witch giggled. "He’s on a mission from God."
"Jesus Christ," the man whispered while crossing himself.
"Him too," Amy grinned.
Vamp Xander was unlocking a college kid serving as a blood dispenser when she was shaken awake by the jostling. As they locked gazes, the woman’s mouth opened and drew breath to scream. Vamp Xander clamped his hand over her mouth, stifling a long, shrill shriek of terror.
The jacket-clad teen hissed, "Come on, lady! We’re trying to get you out of here! If you blow our cover, none of us are gonna live!"
The woman’s eyes held nothing but stark terror; she didn’t believe him.
"Come on, lady," Vamp Xander pleaded. "Give us a chance here."
"Maybe I can help, Xander," Amy said as she came up. She tenderly said, "If you hold the Guns n Roses imitation down, I’ll prove we’re here to help. If you aren’t convinced, you can scream all you want. But take a look around; we’re releasing everyone so we can evacuate you all."
The woman’s dread-filled eyes flicked around. She saw how Tannim and two of the stronger prisoners were freeing their fellows. Finally, she nodded uncertainly.
Amy said, "Xander."
The vampire removed his hand.
"Punch me in the stomach."
Both Vamp Xander and the captive woman stared at her in dumb blankness.
"Come on, do it."
Vamp Xander knew better than to argue with her after what she’d done to Percy. He formed a fist and gave the Colorado native a soft blow that still doubled her over. <Why the Hell did she make me do that!>
Amy started inhaling like crazy to catch her breath. She looked at the silent woman and hoarsely asked, "That (wheeze) enough (cough) for you?"
The woman’s eyes started leaking moisture as she realized that Amy wouldn’t be laboring so hard to catch her breath if she was a vampire. She looked at Vamp Xander and said, "But you. ."
"Amy and a couple of her friends did a little voodoo on me that restored my soul. Basically, I’m back to being the guy I was before I started enjoying the night life."
Amy walked up and smacked him on the back of the head. When he snapped, "OW!", she glared at him. "For one thing, we didn’t have the option of wiping out your sense of humor. Second, it was witchcraft, NOT voodoo, stupid!" She looked at the amazed college woman and shrugged. "Hey, *someone* has to keep him in line, right?"
"Just help me get her out of here," Vamp Xander groaned.
As they unhooked her, Vamp Xander noticed her eyes continued to glance fearfully at him. He said, "Hey, don’t do that, please? I’m not like those other guys."
"Yeah, he’s just a normal American man, which isn’t saying much as it is," Amy joked with a smile. When the college girl looked back to Amy for reassurance, she said, "Hey, my friends had to keep him from killing himself the second his soul was restored. Of course, that means we have to put up with his sense of humor. Other than that, don’t worry."
The woman actually smiled a bit at Xander’s rolling eyes. "Thank you," she whispered to him.
"No prob," he said with a goofy smile. He turned to Tannim. "Tannim, we’re ready."
Tannim nodded. "Got it." He turned to the steady humans who were carrying or supporting those incapable of going themselves. "Listen up. I’m a mage. I’m about to cast a spell called a Gate. When this’ll do is open a doorway to our headquarters. So no ‘ooh’s,’ ‘aah’s,’ or other open-mouthed words. All of you who are able bodied will carry the less fortunate or healthy through. When you get through, you’ll do what the nice FBI Agents and soldier boys tell you to do. We have some people trained in first aid, so you will receive what aid we can provide."
Knowing not to draw the vampires’ attention by cheering, the prisoners simply nodded. Tannim started chanting. In a few seconds, the portal appeared in the room. "Okay, let’s get moving." The healthiest started moving forward. Amy and Vamp Xander helped out, leading a few over to the gate to wait their turn. The young man looked and saw the girl named Jessica being carried by her father. As the last walking wounded passed through, a pair of healthy men came back through to take the last ones off of their hands.
One of them looked at Vamp Xander as he handed over a kid and asked, "What do you get out of this?"
Vamp Xander looked right into his eyes. "I get to make up for what this dick demon that took my body did with it."
The man nodded. "You seem like a good kid."
"You wouldn’t be saying that if you had to put up with his one-liners," Amy pitched in.
"Hey!"
The man chuckled and cradled the child against his chest. "You coming?"
"No," Tannim said. "We have to go back and act natural. We have backup waiting in the sewers if we need it. Now go, so we can bug out."
The man nodded in understanding. "Godspeed, kids."
Cordelia nudged Vamp Willow under the table. "Here they come."
The natural redhead turned on her stool and watched the customers staring at Amy’s back as the trio approached. She heard someone mutter about Amy’s lack of underwear and wondered how they’d notice something like that.
"Hey, Willsy," Amy pouted, sounding vastly disappointed. "Percy was squeaking like a rat. You told me he could hang."
"I’ve been wrong before," the vampiress shrugged as they shared a quick liplock. "Besides, that just means more for me."
"Yeah," Cordelia sighed, "and on that note, let’s blow this joint."
The quintet started to leave, leaving Vamp Willow to turn and say, "We’ll catch you guys later. See you tonight, so start praying." <You’re going to need it.>
"Later, Rosenberg," the bartender said with a chuckle.
Amy leaned in close to Tannim. "Please," she begged, "just one."
"No. Remember the plan."
"What are you two talking about?" Cordelia demanded.
Tannim whispered, "She wants to cast a fireball up these guys’ asses for the way they had prisoners strung up."
"Oh," the Amazon muttered to herself. Thinking rapidly, she leaned into the corset-dressed Netgirl. "Will, leave the door to the basement open when we leave."
Vamp Willow looked at her sidelong, but restrained from commenting. She pulled the door open to let her companions descend into the basement. Taking one last glance at the club she’d spent much of her life in, she turned and vanished from the barroom.
Vamp Xander lifted the grate for the others. Tannim went down first, followed by Vamp Willow. Cordelia took the grate and said, "Head on down. I don’t want Will worrying about you."
"What?" he asked in confusion. "But.."
"Stop being a gentleman and go!" the brunette hissed.
Vamp Xander started descending, against his better judgment. Cordelia looked at Amy, who was wondering what was going on.
"Here’s the plan," the warrior began with gleaming eyes. "I’m gonna head down. You start, but do whatever you want to do." A devious grin crossed both women’s faces. "Since the door’s open, you have no excuse to miss. Now listen up. Once you fire that thing off, *drop*. Don’t climb down, don’t scamper, and don’t stay to watch. D-R-O-P. I’ll be there to catch you. I’m not going to risk you getting third degree burns. Got it?"
Her eyes gleaming in delight, Amy cracked her knuckles. "Let’s do it."
Gabrielle chuckled as she overheard the girls’ plan. She glanced at Steve, who was watching her with interest.
The bard said, "Call Ceirdwyn and Giles. Tell them to get ready. They’re to fire on Amy’s signal."
"Excuse me?" the demon hunter asked. "What signal?"
"Just do it," Gabby said, a trace of urgency in her voice.
Sighing in frustration, Steve St. Wolf keyed his radio.
"Got it, St. Wolf." Ceirdwyn turned to the box she and Wish Giles had lugged to the roof across the street from the Bronze. "St. Wolf says to wait for the signal from the bar team, then send them this little party favor."
"What signal?" Wish Giles asked, to which his companion shrugged. "I do hope it’s something we can interpret. This military-style cloak-and-dagger method is somewhat beyond my experience."
"As opposed to fighting vampires?" Ceirdwyn chuckled as she set up the launcher.
Wish Giles joined her. "Quite right, Sergeant."
Ceirdwyn finished setting up the launcher and held it out to the librarian. "All right, it’s simple. Point this end at the club, look through this sight, pull the trigger. Simple."
"I think I can handle it," the Watcher mumbled with a dry chuckle. He took the launcher and settled in the position Ceirdwyn had demonstrated three times already. "Let’s hope this signal comes soon."
Cordelia had hustled down the chute, leaving Amy alone. She descended the first few rungs until her head, shoulders, and arms were the only things visible. She pointed one hand like a finger gun at the entrance to the bar.
She let her face turn grim over what she’d seen in the prison room. Her eyes bled over from blue to pitch-blackness as she chanted. "Goddess Hecate, to thee I pray, with this spell, set my foes aflame!"
Amy’s finger glowed for a bit. Without warning, a pea-sized orange ball of flame shot from her digit. The ball shot forward at supersonic speeds, expanding as it shot through the doorway. Rather than take satisfaction in viewing the results of her incantation, the New Salemite kicked back, threw her arms straight up, and let gravity do the rest, yelling out a sharp, "BANZAI!"
The vampires lounging closest to the basement door heard the chant coming from the cellar, but were unable to make out the words. They jumped back in surprise as the baseball-sized meteor shot out of the basement. The others, their attention drawn by the whistling sound, turned just in time to see the beach ball-sized streak of orange iridescence impact against the ceiling.
Collectively, the vampires thought, <What the H. .>
Anything more was forever rendered unknown by the tremendous roar from the explosion that consumed them in proverbial fire and brimstone.
Wish Giles and Ceirdwyn jumped back in shock as the door and windows were blown off of their mountings as flames whose heat could be felt across the street spilled out into the late morning air.
"Oghma!" Ceirdwyn proclaimed in a dry whisper.
Wish Giles gave a different oath. "DAMN BLOODY YANKS!!!"
"You were right, Giles," the Celtic Immie noted. "St. Wolf does play for keeps."
"I assume that the signal has been given?" the Watcher noted sarcastically.
"She’s all yours," the cop laughed. <This chap was right. St. Wolf is scary.>
"I’ve dreamt of this for a bloody long time," Wish Giles whispered, though Ceirdwyn heard every syllable. "God save the Queen!"
As the man’s finger pressed the trigger, there was a dull roar as one of the United State’s finest military implements flew at its intended target. Giles’ aim was apparently fine, as the rocket passed directly through one of the open windows. A split second later, a massive wave of concussive force sent pieces of all four walls of the Bronze flying in all directions, disintegrating the cinder and concrete. The roof then collapsed, falling to the ground and bringing the walls down with it, burying any and all who were in the club.
Ceirdwyn and Wish Giles looked up at the utter destruction and started packing their equipment. As they stood up and began to head to the door to the roof, Ceirdwyn couldn’t help but glance at the White Hat’s leader.
"God save the Queen?" she dryly asked.
He shrugged. "It was all that came to mind."
"Not bad, though," she offered. The two chuckled as they left the roof.
A dull rumble sounded in the sewers. Steve and his partners began looking around, but were soon joined by Tannim and Vamp Willow, who came running into their designated meeting point.
"Where are the others?" Steve barked.
"Right behind you!" Vamp Xander announced, skidding to a stop in the intersection.
Sonja snarled, "Don’t tell me you left the others behind!"
"Hey! I didn’t want to leave, but I know better than to piss that Cordelia off, from personal experience," the vampire said. "She was the boss, she told me to join Willow. Don’t ask me more."
A second rumble was felt, its epicenter being close to where the bar team had been. Ten seconds later, Amy and Cordelia came strutting in, looking far too pleased with themselves.
Steve marched over to Cordelia and said, "What the Hell did you do?"
"Hey, Grail Boy, don’t blame her!" Steve looked over and saw Amy glaring at him. She walked up to him and jammed a finger into his chest. "She didn’t see what those dead dudes did to the mortals in there. I did. So did Xander and Tannim." She settled down, a hard look on her face. "I wanted to be able to tell the people that we gave them some payback. You have a problem with that?"
"We waited until everyone else was gone, and Amy fired her spell from the sewer grate," the Amazon teen continued. "She dropped right into my arms and we booked. We were as far from the club as we could get before they launched the rocket. I do know what I’m doing."
Steve considered their argument and looked to Gabrielle. "What do you think? Seriously."
"It was a risk, sister," the Battling Bard told Cordelia. "You pulled it off this time, but you can’t allow your personal feelings to interfere with our mission." She looked dead on at Amy and said, to both of them, "Our job is to save lives and help people, not to take out our frustration and anger by playing Vengeance Girls. It worked this time, since we knew there weren’t any prisoners left. But next time. . ."
Trailing off, she saw that she’d gotten the message across to both girls. Gabrielle then added, "At the same time, Cordelia, you did weigh the risks and made sure your people were safe before improvising. In that, you did well. So overall, you handled the mission satisfactorily, in my opinion. Steven?"
"Same here," St. Wolf said, having seen the message received loud and clear. "Good work, all of you. Now let’s get back to HQ. Arthur, you and Sonja are on point. Gabrielle, you and me are drag. Amy and Tannim, have some offensive spells ready, but I want surgical precision, not massive explosions. Move out."
Sonja and Gabrielle handed Glock 21’s to Vamps Willow and Xander, who took the weapons since they didn’t have mystical power to add to that of the witch and mage. As they started walking, Gabrielle raised her voice. "Cordelia, Willow, I need to ask you one question."
Not looking back as they marched, Cordy said, "Shoot."
Sonja tossed back over her shoulder, "We have to know; just how loud does Xander moan at the Motor Lodge?"
Cordelia and Vamp Willow paled (a somewhat difficult task in Willow’s case) as they realized what this meant. They glared at the cursing St. Wolf.
"You gave them THE HEADPHONES?!?" Cordelia screeched.
"We were bored," Gabrielle said with a giggle. "At least Steve didn’t listen in."
"You are SO dead, you chowder-head!" Cordelia promised the Immortal soldier. "I swear to Artemis!"
Steve tried to ignore her bluster. "Let’s keep our minds on business, shall we?"
Someone was, as Amy quickly started chanting in Latin, something only Gabrielle and Sonja understood.
Amy conjured a rope composed of glowing light and started twirling it like a lasso. She threw the loop forward and the rope shot out, weaving its way through the sewers like a sidewinder. The warriors heard a yelp, and then someone screaming for help. Amy made motions of dragging a rope in, and sure enough, the created rope came back, dragging a young vampire by his heels.
"You have GOT to teach me that spell," Vamp Willow gushed.
"Why? To catch vampires?"
"No, for bondage fun with Xander during playtime."
Cordelia growled, "Ewwwww!"
The witch just smiled as she leaned over the constricting rope. "Okay, just what are you doing sneaking around,
buddy boy? You like peeking in on people when you’re not invited?"
The vampire gave her a defiant glare and
said, "I’m not afraid of you, little girl!"
"This little girl happens to be a witch," Vamp Xander said as he knelt down. "How’s it going, Jimmy?"
"Harris? What the Hell are you doing with these humans?!?"
Vamp Willow ran a finger up and down Xander’s neck. "Now you know he’s not the one who kisses and tells, Jimmy."
The vampire looked back and forth in confusion before Vamp Xander revealed his secret. "It’s a soul thing, Jimmy. You know how it goes. Master unveils the factory, Watcher casts spell, we go to alternate universe, get our souls back, and come back to wipe the vamp answer to Captain Picard off the face of the Hellmouth."
Vamp Xander pulled out a stake and said, "Sorry you won’t be around to see it." He drove the stake into the runner’s heart and whispered, "I hope you don’t hate me for turning you, kid."
Vamp Willow squeezed his shoulder with tender care, rather than sexual intent. He stood up and said, "Let’s get out of here before we get any more guests."
"I’m all for that," Amy said, taking the lead before Steve could order a marching order.
"Amy," Steve said with a sigh of embarrassment.
The witch turned around to see everyone staring at her, some with smiles. "What?"
"Your pants," the Green Beret said as he averted his eyes.
With a roll of her eyes, Amy took off her leather jacket, wrapped it around her waist, and tied off the sleeves. Waving her now bare arms, she snapped, "Happy now?"
"Not anymore," Sonja, Gabrielle, and Vamp Willow said with mock disappointment.
"Save it for the bedroom!" Cordelia snapped.
"Okay," all four bi-girls happily agreed.
They turned and started marching toward the combined teams’ meeting point, leaving Vamp Xander with a look of longing, Cordelia gagging, Arthur wondering if waking up in this century was a good thing after all, and Steve rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.
"I’m getting too old for this shit."
St. Wolf Residence
Sunnydale, California (the Wandererverse)
13 December 1998
Amy exited the kitchen, suppressing a small yawn as she shuffled into Steve's living room. She glanced at her watch and saw that the time was 8:45. Then her tired mind revisited the events of the previous night.
<Goddess. In about seven or eight hours we captured Xander’s and Will’s doubles, restored their souls, gathered a small army, and Artemis transported the team to another reality. Yep, Fed Ex would be jealous as heck.> She snickered, then stopped abruptly when she realized she hadn't heard herself laugh. She called out for Joe or Brian and was stunned when she couldn’t hear her own voice.
<What in the Goddess' nam—Yikes!> She jumped as someone touched her shoulder from behind. The startled Amazon whirled and prepared to punch whomever it was. She found a startled Kendra there and snapped, "Don't DO that!" but heard nothing.
Kendra just stared and said something in return, but the Slayer's words were just as inaudible as Amy's. Amy just rolled her eyes and shrugged. The blonde witch pointed upstairs and Kendra nodded. As the Slayer took the stairs two at a time to wake up Joe N'Gato, Amy scanned the living room, then started for the computer room to check the monitors. Then something caught her attention and the pieces all fell into place when she saw her cousin laid out on the couch, fast asleep.
<Obviously she was here all night,> Amy sighed. <Of course, she used some of her research time telling me how she found Millie. And she…> A smile dawned on her face. <She showed me that stuff about my Amazon blessing.>
The witch crossed to the front of the couch and stepped around Shaw's dark blue Nikes, taking care not to trip over them. She wondered why Shaw had cast a silence spell over the room and crouched to take a closer look at the slumbering Hunter. Shaw's face gave Amy all the answers she needed.
Shaw's cheeks were flushed a deeper shade of blue and the blonde girl could see obvious tear tracks on her face. Amy's face fell as she realized the likely reason her cousin had cast that spell and a surge of anger rose within her.
<Ares, I hope Mielikki makes you pay through the ass for this.> Then she shot a sympathetic glance at the sleeping Shaw. <Well, cuz,> she thought, <rise and shine.>
Amy jostled Shaw's arm where it met the shoulder. With a couple of shakes, Shaw's eyes snapped open. Caution and determination came first, but awareness followed soon after. She sat upright with a fluid motion, bleary eyes darting from side to side.
Amy waved her hands to capture the half-elf's attention. When she squinted in confusion, the witch grinned and uttered a silent, "Hi!"
Shaw caught on and closed her eyes in concentration. Amy felt her cousin tap into the effect of the spell she'd cast and sensed when it had dissipated. She cheerfully smiled at the half-elf and chirped, "Morning, sleepy head."
Shaw raked her fingers through her tangled hair and said, "Good morning."
<Goddess, and I thought you were a morning person,> Amy inwardly chuckled before sobering. She sat on the couch next to Shaw and asked, "You want to talk about it?" When Shaw gave her a confused look, she added, "You had a nightmare, didn't you?"
Shaw's eyes grew a bit clearer. "Yes, Amy," she admitted. "But I cannot remember it. I tried to focus on the dream, but…"
"The harder you try to remember, the quicker it goes 'poof,'" Amy finished. She shrugged. "That happens to me, too."
Shaw simply nodded before glancing at Amy. "What time is it?"
"Almost nine," the witch responded with a grin. "How late were you up?"
"I am not certain," Shaw confessed sleepily. She slowly stood and stretched.
Amy stood next to her and asked, "Why don't you go home and catch some Z's?"
The ranger shook her head. "No, I will go home and change into fresh clothing."
Amy folded her arms and frowned. "Shaw, I worry about you. If you skip your sleep…"
"I took a nap yesterday afternoon," the cleric noted with a sigh. "I can sleep later this afternoon or tonight." With a slight pause, Shaw said, "It is not as if I shall patrol."
Amy glanced at the floor. "We'll still need you here tonight, Hunter. If anyone needs to be healed, I want you handy."
Shaw nodded slightly. "I just worry about you," she told the Amazon before adding, "all of you."
"I know," Amy replied putting a reassuring arm around Shaw. The sound of creaking wood attracted their attention. The cousins looked up to see Kendra coming down the stairs with Joe and Brian. She asked, "How are you doing, guys?"
"Hi Amy," Brian said with a smile.
Joe nodded at the girls. "I am well this morning, Miss Madison."
"Good," Amy said with a sharp nod. Switching her attention to the Knight, she asked, "So what's on the agenda for today, Joe?"
Joe closed his eyes and seemed to consider her question. "I am to give Detective Foley a wakeup call at ten o'clock and fetch him at the Motor Lodge at eleven. Mister Blaisdell, Mister Banyon, Miss Kentraine, and Sir Korendil are due to arrive here around the same time. Other than that, I had thought perhaps a light workout might allow us to familiarize ourselves with one another's styles before we patrol tonight."
"Okay, that sounds good." She smiled. "I can save you a trip to the Motor Lodge. Let me take Steve's truck and I’ll drop the night owl here at home. Then I’ll pick up Detective Foley."
The Liberian considered her offer and let a minute smile touch his lips. "Thank you, Miss Madison."
"You *can* call me Amy, Joe."
"Very well…Amy," N'Gato agreed with a bit of hesitation. "I'll fetch the keys for you."
As Joe left, Amy turned to Kendra. "Before we book, I'll take orders for take out. Did you have breakfast?"
Kendra nodded evenly. "Buffy's mother is most insistent on such matters. She asked me to ensure that Buffy had a sound meal this morning. She does not know..."
"Because Buffy doesn't want her to have a heart attack. So mum's the word," Amy reminded her. "How about you, Bri?"
"I'll take the special with extra bacon," the young man answered.
Shaw started to laugh, while Amy narrowed her eyes at him. "Brian, I asked what *you* wanted. That crazy mutt can scrounge his own bacon."
A plaintive whine came from the kitchen.
Amy started to shake her head when the phone in Steve's office rang.
Amy groaned. "Oh man…here we go!"
"What?" Kendra asked.
Amy glared at the Slayer. "Well...we're all alone here, the gang's gone, and now Steve's phone is ringing!" Amy blurted out. She hustled to the office and said, "You know what this means."
"We are SO screwed?" Shaw suggested innocently.
Amy stopped at the doorway as Kendra and Brian snickered. With a silent plea for her cousin to stop emulating Robin and Xander, the Amazon stormed inside.
Amy plopped into Steve's chair and hit the speaker button. "Talk to me!" she snapped.
The caller was somewhat slow to respond. "Er...I'm sorry. I must have the wrong—"
"Captain Randall?" the witch asked. She recognized the caller's voice from July. "It's Amy Madison."
"Amy Madison?"
"Yeah, Captain," she responded with a grin. "L.A. The Forum? I’m the non-Slayer blonde who fired an assault rifle at Throlog's head?"
"Of course!" the captain snapped in belated recognition. "I remember you now, Amy. Sorry." He paused then said, "Amy, is Steve there?"
"No. He and most of the team are out of town." <WAY out of town.> "Lemme guess; another seven hundred vampires are trying the same old summoning trick?"
"No, but it's strange in its own right," the Captain said. "This time we have two inner city gangs, one human and one vampire, battling in Los Angeles. I have the Rangers and Zombies on standby, but I wanted to call your group in if they were available."
<Damn! This just had to happen!> Amy punched the numbers in her head. <Me, Kendra, and Joe from our team. Eric, Beth, and Korey have a good amount of power, that'll help. That leaves Larry, Brian, Shaw, Charlie, and Detective Foley for Sunny…no, it's no good, Sabrina.>
"Miss Madison?"
His voice yanked Amy back into the conversation. "Captain Randall, we're short on weapons and manpower. A lot of the people we called in July are already committed. I have some backup arriving shortly, but I'm hurting even then." She paused and then softly asked, "How many vampires are we talking about?"
"According to one of the kids we’ve talked to, I’d say around fifty to sixty."
Amy thanked Artemis for small favors. <If that's all, maybe we can do this.> "Captain, why don't you come to Sunnydale?" she asked. "That way, we can compare notes."
"Amy," Randall said carefully, "I have three people involved in the case who know about vampires, but don't have experience in…other matters."
Amy paused for a moment, then said, "What do you think about them?"
Randall was silent for several seconds. "Well, one's a good man, but he's having a hard time believing in this. Another's the kid whose group has been fighting the vampires. The third is another detective, she's like Steve and Buffy in that she takes a long view of things."
Amy thought about it and considered calling Joe for his opinion. She halted when she remembered that *she* was the one Steve had left in charge. <I'm in charge,> she thought dully. Some of the irritation she still felt over not going with the team began to fade as she began to understand the trust Steve had placed in her. "Captain, bring all three of them. If they're going to be involved, we might as well throw them in the deep end."
"I hope to God you're right about this," the cop sighed. "All right. I'll bring them and Pat Kelly as well."
Amy smiled at the mention of the Immortal. "Okay. Tell him not to worry, Buffy won't take him down this time."
Randall laughed on the other end. "I'll do that. We can be there by noon."
"Good. I'll have everyone here."
Amy terminated the call and rose from the chair. She strode out of the office and went straight to Joe N'Gato.
"We’ve got a problem," Amy told him.
The leader-pro-tem relayed the situation to the people present in a brief, concise fashion. When she had finished, she started issuing directives.
Handing her cell phone and a number to Kendra, she said, "Kendra, call Beth in San Francisco. Tell them to get here ASAP. Food will be waiting for them when they arrive. Then call Larry and tell him to get over here."
She turned to Joe. "Call Detective Foley and tell him to be ready to go in a half hour. Then call the diner and order ten breakfast specials, extra everything. That way everyone gets their fill. I'll pick them up when I swing back."
As the Grail Knight moved for the office, Shaw asked, "What can I do?"
"Go home," the Hecatian said. Seeing the shocked look on Shaw's face, Amy rolled her eyes. "I'll drop you off, you'll get a shower and clean clothes, plus any equipment you've got hidden there, and I'll pick you up and bring you back. We'll go from there."
The Amazon then turned to Brian. "Okay, kiddo. First thing, put a pot of coffee on. Second, start sorting out some ammo, wooden and silver bullets. Got it?"
"Got it," the younger Jessup said with a smile.
The Amazon turned to her cousin. "Come on, Shaw. Let's motor."
"Any questions?" she asked, scanning the room. It was ten-thirty and everyone was sitting in Steve's living room. Amy had reported on the events in the City of Angels, as well as what they could expect when their visitors arrived.
To the witch's surprise, it was Korendil who spoke first. "Lady Amy, while I do not have much experience in such battles, I have learned enough >from your television shows to know that these vampires, being 'gang bangers,' would likely possess firearms."
"Which fire bullets made of steel or iron," Amy finished. When he nodded solemnly, she said, "Steve left us a few suits of Grail body armor, Korey. It stops anything up to fifty caliber, including armor-piercing bullets."
Having seen the suits on those who had ventured to the other universe, the Magus Minor nodded in appreciation. "Thank you, milady."
"You're welcome, and nix the 'milady' stuff." She glanced at the other witch. "Beth?"
"I have a few offensive and defensive spells, but those are more for dealing with single opponents. I don't have anything to address multiple targets."
Amy dismissively waved a hand. "You're Wicca, right?" At Bethany's nod, she continued. "No problem. We have a copy of Wiccan Spells And Rituals in the original Celtic AND transcribed into English."
Beth Kentraine's jaw dropped. "Oh Lord and Lady, you're fortunate we have a battle on the horizon. Otherwise, I'd lock myself in your library."
"I know the feeling," Amy agreed. Turning to Joe, she said, "Joe, you and Brian have the ammo ready?"
"Enough for a pitched battle, although I hope it won't come to that," the civil engineer responded. "I also readied Uzi and Beretta nine millimeter weapons. We also have two Ithaca shotguns with Dragon's Breath shells."
"Cool," Amy muttered. "Kendra, everything ready on your end?"
The Slayer nodded. "I have ten holy water grenades and five white phosphorous grenades set aside." She glanced at the young woman next to her. "Also, Shaw and I have filled five more with another liquid. Shaw believes that they will prove effective."
"This is *not* the time for experimentation, you two!" Amy scolded. She glared at her cousin and asked, "What's in the grenades?"
"Hydrochloric acid."
Amy and the others did a double take. The teen shook her head and said, "Where-- no. Don't answer that. I SO don't want to know." She turned to Larry and Axel. "Larry, Detective Foley, once we figure out a plan of action, the two of you will team up with Charlie for patrols. I don't like it, but I don't see much of a choice at this point."
"Hey girl, it's okay," Axel said with confidence. "Now that I got hooked up with your goodies, I'm ready to kick ass and take names."
Axel's bravado was a bit infectious. "Thanks," the Amazon said gratefully. "But I want to cover all our bases, just to be safe." She glanced at the Misthold entourage. "Korey, I know from Shaw and Robin that there's a group of elves in Los Angeles. Would they be willing to help?"
Korey looked between his human friends and pondered the question; it was his home Elfhame they were talking about. "They might be willing to aid us. It will depend on how persuasive I am. Dharinel would not approve, but since he is not here…"
"Okay, go ahead and call them," she said while sharing Korendil's secret smile. She looked to Joe. "Joe, did you get ahold of the monks?"
"Yes, but they are currently engaged in a battle near the Mexican border."
Amy's confidence sagged a bit. "Damn," she snapped before looking back at Shaw. "Okay, cuz, I hate to ask you this, but can you call Blade? We could use any extra hands we can get, and we know he'll do it just to take them out."
The ranger nodded uncertainly. "How are they supposed to come here from New York?"
"I'll worry about that. Just place the call." She looked everyone over. "Okay, let's get the equipment organized. Kendra, show Beth where we keep the spell books. Larry, you and Brian arrange equipment kits. Joe, Shaw, I want to talk to you."
As most of the others left, Joe and Shaw remained seated. The Amazon looked at the man with earnestness. "Joe, do you have any experience in urban combat?"
"Yes, Amy. But you have enough time under your proverbial belt to command this group in Sir Steven and Buffy's absence."
"The suburbs aren’t the same as a city, Joe."
Joe conceded the observation with a nod. "But close quarters is close quarters. It should at least be easier than fighting in the sewers beneath Sunnydale."
"Good point." Amy sighed. "Thanks, Joe. I need to talk to Shaw."
Joe sent a glance Shaw's way before turning and leaving the living room. Shaw just watched Amy, allowing her to speak first.
Amy considered a viable starting point. "How do our healing stores look?"
The elfgirl blinked. "The others took the potions after we gave two of them to Angel. That leaves us with a number of scrolls; three with five lesser healing spells each, two with three moderate healing spells per scroll."
Amy did a quick tally. <Twenty-one spells.> "You've been busy." She eyed her relative carefully. "Shaw, I'll be straight with you. If we aren't going to have Aaron or Michael with us, those scrolls are just graffiti without a priest to cast them."
The older woman knew what Amy was saying. She slowly stood and said, "Amy, I am in no condition for this. Last night proved it."
"I'm not talking about fighting, Shaw," the servant of Artemis explained. She licked her lips and said, "I figure we'll set up a command post before we go after the bad guys. You could stay there and do any healing when we get back."
Shaw looked toward the living room. "What about those who stay here? Who will watch over them?"
<She doesn't want to go,> Amy realized in shock. She frowned at the taciturn half-elf. "Shaw, we might need you. We don't have a mega-Immortal army this time."
"But you will be stronger in magic with Bethany, Eric, and Korendil. Eric can cast healing spells."
"But it takes a lot out of him," the witch countered. "You know that as well as I do." She glanced at the floor for a second before looking back at Shaw. "Shaw, I know you're not in good shape. Do you think I'd ask you to do this if it wasn't absolutely necessary?"
"I know you wouldn't," Shaw whispered, though Amy picked it up. Amy watched Shaw look into her eyes, uncertainty plain to see. "I will do what I can, Amy, but..."
"I know," she said tenderly. The Amazon nodded softly and said, "Like I said, we'll let you stay at the command post. But now, I need you to place that call."
Shaw nodded and went to follow Amy's orders. The teenager watched and thought about how easily giving orders was coming to her, wondering what the day would hold.
Abandoned Warehouse
New York City, New York (the Wandererverse)
13 December 1998
Blade flipped open his cell phone before the first tone even ended. "Blade."
"Blade? I am calling to ask for your help," came an accented female voice.
Blade's left eye rose a millimeter. "Hunter? What help do you need?" He left the words "this time" unsaid.
The voice on the other end sighed. "Two things, one of which is simple, the other not. The Wanderer and most of our group have been called away on a mission to wipe out a large group of vampires, leaving us under strength for our routine patrols on the Hellmouth. We have just learned of another situation involving a group of vampires fighting a similar group of humans, and your urban experience might prove to be useful."
Blade stonily said, "Just a minute." He looked to the back of the room and called out, "Whistler. Hunter's on the line."
Whistler dropped the modified shotgun he was working on and walked over to his student and friend. He slowed only long enough to throw a spit of tobacco juice into a spittoon before coming up to the dhampir. "What's ol' Pointy Ears want?"
"Says she needs backup," the vampire hunter replied. He held the phone out and said, "Something about vamps fighting humans."
"Lemme see," the old man said. He took the phone and lifted it to his ear. "Hey, Hunter, what's your situation?"
"Hello to you as well, Whistler," she said dryly, giving Whistler a good chuckle. "Steven and much of our team are on a mission, leaving us with only a partial team. This morning, a Captain with the Los Angeles Police Department who knows of certain things called us. In a sense, he is asking for our team's help in dealing with what I believe you N'Tel'Quetethiras call a... ‘turf war?’"
"Lemme get this straight, kiddo," the armorer snapped in disbelief, not rising to the bait of the Hunter using Elvish to describe him and Blade. "You want us to help you and your teenybopper vamp hunter friends stop a couple of STREET GANGS?!?"
"One of which is composed of vampires, yes," came the deadpan response.
"I knew I should've thrown away this cell after seeing Cherokee again," Whistler mumbled. He thought about it and said, "And just how are we supposed to get to L.A.?"
"We can arrange…transport for you," she said over the connection, "in the form of a Gate spell cast by an elven mage. It would open and allow you to walk through like any portal."
"Damn," the former soldier said, impressed despite himself. "Give us an hour to call some 'friends' who might want to join the party. Open your little doorway in sixty minutes. We'll be ready, alone or no."
"Thank you, Whistler," the woman said over the phone.
"You wanna thank us, you give us the address of a bar so Blade and I can get good and drunk once the fight's over," he told her jokingly.
She laughed over the line. "That will *not* be a problem."
She broke the connection and Whistler closed the phone. He looked at the taciturn fighter. "Call Castle and Ketch, ask them if they want to join the party. I'll dial Morbius."
"You're gonna ask a bloodsucker to work with us?" Blade asked emotionlessly.
Whistler shook his head in frustration over an old argument. "He's not a normal vamp, you know that. Not his fault he’s a shitty chemist. Who would YOU have me call?"
Blade's head dropped just a bit as he pondered the question. After a few seconds consideration, he looked up. "Wilson."
Whistler snorted. "Oh sure. Hunter asks us for help, and you want to call a guy that'd charge US an arm and a leg." He tossed the phone back to its owner. "Get dialing, Blade."
Fifty-three minutes later, three men stood in the headquarters of the Daywalker. Besides Whistler and Blade, a young white man wearing a motorcycle jacket and blue jeans talked with the two about the fight they might be heading into.
"So this *elf* calls you and asks for your help with a vampire fight," Daniel Ketch, also known as the Ghost Rider, started. "And you call me to help out since they might be fighting a vampire street gang."
"That’s about the size of it, kid," Whistler said through a smile. "Kinda hard to believe, huh?"
"Not in that I don’t think it could happen, old fart," Ketch joked. He rubbed the five o’clock shadow on his face and said, "I thought this kind of thing could only happen in New York."
Whistler joined his chuckles. "Laugh it up, kid. You think the Big Apple is bad, just wait’ll you get a load of the Hellmouth. There are some nasty bastards in that town and they’re the good guys!"
Ketch sobered and shot a questioning glance at Whistler. "So we’re it, the entire cavalry?"
Whistler shuffled his feet and spat on the floor. "Yeah, we’re it. Morbius, Castle, and Wilson couldn’t make it to this party. They’re all tied up. They just have to make do with us, rugrat."
Blade, who had been listening half-heartedly to the conversation, stiffened. "Do you feel that?"
Whistler reacted immediately; he picked up a double barrel shotgun and cocked the hammers. "What is it, Blade?"
Blade turned to indicate what he had sensed, but it became unnecessary when a shimmering portal opened before them. Blade picked up his katana and Glock 21 and said, "Looks like our ride’s here."
Dan leaned in and said, "Did Blade just crack a joke?"
"Sounded like it," Whistler shrugged. He cocked his head in thought. "It was bound to happen sooner or later. Enough jabber. Let’s move."
Ketch nodded and walked over to his parked motorcycle. He raised the kickstand and started walking toward the portal, watching in fascination as Blade and Whistler walked into the glowing oval and disappeared from view. <Strange,> he thought before shrugging. <Of course, I transform into a demon biker with a flaming skull. Who am I to talk?>
Ketch proceeded into the portal, wondering what his mother would think if she had any idea of how he spent some of his nights.
<Just once, I’d like to meet a teenager who knew what I went through.>
He passed through and the portal closed in on itself, vanishing without a trace like it had never existed.
St. Wolf Residence
Sunnydale, California (the Wandererverse)
13 December 1998
A pair of SUV's parked in front of the large house. John Randall, Tracy Vetter, Steve Sloan, and JD Heart exited the first. Exiting the second vehicle were Pat Kelly, leader of the SWAT team known as the Zombies, as well as three younger people; Charles Gunn, his friend Pablo, and a tall young woman, barely twenty years of age, with long blonde hair and large, dark eyes.
Randall shivered as he glanced at his partner. "Remember the last time we were here?"
"Don't worry," Vetter said jokingly, "I don't think 'Ironman' is waiting for you this time."
Randall shot her a glare before turning to Gunn. "Charles, you do realize that everything you see and hear in this house is classified, right?"
"Yeah, yeah, we get the point," Gunn said in resignation. "And don't call me Charles. Makes me feel old."
Pat Kelly and JD just shared secret smiles.
Steve Sloan asked his partner, "So what do you think? Not exactly the type of headquarters I'd expect for a commando unit."
"True," JD agreed readily enough. She asked Randall, "So, Captain, this is the home of the cross between Van Helsing and Rambo?"
Kelly put his two cents worth in at that point. "Heart, trust me. The man that leads this team is the real deal."
"Really? I'll judge for myself," Heart said with a grin that did nothing to reassure her superiors. Off their looks, she rolled her eyes and said, "I promise to behave, Mommy and Daddy. Cross my heart and hope to die."
Muttering, "This is going to be one of those days," under his breath, Randall led the group to the door and knocked. Seconds later, a young, athletic-looking blonde woman with medium-blue eyes answered the door.
She glanced at the group standing behind the Captain and seemed to linger over JD for half a second. Her face became neutral. "You said you were bringing three, Captain."
"The situation's changed a bit," Randall answered sheepishly. When the girl's left eyebrow arched a bit, he told her, "The two kids came into the station just before we were leaving for Sunnydale. Things are a bit more urgent now. One of their fighters was taken by the bad guys last night."
The teenager nodded and backed away to allow them to enter. "Come in. Our backup has arrived."
"Thank you," Randall said. He started into the house. "Let's go, people."
JD shared a look with Pat Kelly, who smiled and started walking. She turned to her partner and said just loud enough for others to hear, "Tight butts before beauty."
Steve groaned and tried to ignore the SWAT Lieutenant’s snickers.
As the cops entered the strange house, Gunn glanced at the blonde woman standing next to him. He whispered, "Well, Lily?"
The girl he'd asked shook her head. "It's not her. I'll never forget her face."
"Then who is she?" Pablo asked, slightly worried.
"Guess we'll find out," Gunn said tightly. "Come on."
The three young people reluctantly followed their escorts inside.
As the last three walked in, Amy shut the door behind them and engaged the safety on the gun hidden behind her back. She followed the new arrivals into the living room.
She heard a couple of startled gasps as the kids took in the people who they believed were going to help them with their vampire problem. She had to smother a smile as she imagined the looks on the trio's faces at the sight of three elven warriors in full glory; full plate mail armor, swords at their hips, their flowing hair done up in ponytails to reveal their pointed ears, and their green cat's eyes, complete with slitted pupils.
<Well, Captain Randall and I agreed we'd throw them in the deep end,> Amy snickered to herself. <So let's see how they handle it.>
The Amazon moved to the center of her group and said, "Captain Randall, why don't you and your group take a seat? I know we're going to have some stunned folks, so I'd rather have them sitting in case someone faints."
She heard Brian snicker behind her and shot a stern look his way. After he gulped, she turned to the L. A. group as they took seats, most bearing looks of wonder or fear on their faces.
She looked to Randall once again and asked, "Okay, Captain, why don't you give us the scoop?"
Randall looked to the bald African-American kid, who didn't look too pleased with becoming the center of attention. He glanced at the blonde girl who kept stealing glances at the Sunnydale group. Finally, she shook her head and shrugged.
He looked at Amy and said, "You're not the Slayer."
Amy stiffened a bit before she shot a hard look his way. "How do you know about the Slayer? Don't lie, because I'll be able to tell."
"Say what?" he demanded.
Amy smirked. "Let's just say…I have many skills."
He looked to the girl, who said, "My name's Lily. I once belonged to a group that had raves here…"
"Part of the group that wanted to become vampires," Amy finished, remembering one of the stories told her by Buffy and the gang about their time before she had joined. "Go on. How did you end up with these two?"
"I'll answer that," the bald kid said, standing up with a slightly belligerent pose.
As he stood, Amy felt someone shifting and moving forward. She turned her head and saw Shaw stepping forward. She held a hand up to stop her fellow Slayerette. "Down, cuz!"
Sensing Shaw’s conflict, but noting that she obeyed, Amy nodded to the spokesman to go on.
"My name's Gunn," he said, figuring that introductions were a good place to start. Indicating the man next to him, he said, "This is Pablo, the girl's Lily. She runs a homeless shelter in our 'hood that my Lost Boys occasionally use to stash homies who get wounded."
"You have two separate gathering places?" Amy asked.
"They only stay at the shelter if they're wounded," Lily interjected, and Amy could see that the girl still wondered who she was. "We've managed to keep it a secret, until..."
"What happened?" Amy said, feeling the waves of concern off of the woman.
Gunn spoke up. "Eight months ago, a couple of gang bangers got turned into vamps. Instead of joining the bloodsuckers that made them, they decided to start their own gang. They took members from several groups, which kept their brothers from figuring out what was going on, at least, at first. When one of our people survived an attack, he came to me." Amy started to ask a question, but he answered it before she could ask it. "People consider me a sort of 'Robin Hood' type. I work with people in the 'hood, helping them with crooks, keeping drugs off the streets, stuff like that. When I found out what was going down, I didn't believe it. But after I approached one of those vamps, I was a believer. I got some of the guys who believed me and we started fighting back."
Amy considered that and nodded. "And it's a losing battle?"
Gunn winced and snapped, "Hey, we've held our own. But last night we got suckered. We caught a group trying to hit up some 'recruits' and took them on. Then their buds who were waiting for us started attacking. My sister Alonna got bit, but her vamp got dusted before he could drink her. But one of our boys came up missing."
"You think they took him."
"Yeah," Gunn admitted, showing a pang of sorrow in his eyes. "I think they're gonna turn him and find out about both hideouts."
"And being a public place," Shaw reasoned from behind the witch, "the vampires can enter freely and attack anyone who is in the shelter."
"No!" Lily countered nervously. "I live there, it's my home."
"Then how can the vampires attack?" Kendra asked from her position.
Gunn looked at her, recognizing her accent. "They don't go in. They do whatever they can to get the people to come out." Seeing her confusion, he posted some scenarios. "Firebombs, shutting down the power, doing things to make it impossible for us to stay inside."
"Damn," Amy cursed. Glancing at Randall, she asked, "Who do you have available, Captain?"
"I have the Zombies, of course," Randall said, nodding toward Pat Kelly, "I have the Rangers on standby, since they're not as qualified in some ways as the Zombies are."
Knowing what he meant, Amy disagreed. "We'll still need them as backup, Captain. So I'm including them in any assault plan."
The three kids and Sloan were shocked at her admission that she was leading the team.
Gunn jumped up and shouted, "YOU'RE in charge?!? You gotta be shitting me!!"
"Believe it, Gunn," Pat Kelly chuckled. "I was involved in the fight at the Forum. You should have seen Ms. Madison taking on the biggest demon this side of the Bible. Girl's got skills."
"You expect me to buy this?" Gunn barked. He took a look around the room and remembered the pointy-eared men staring at him, looks of amusement on their faces. "What makes you think you can do any better than my boys?"
Amy sighed; this was going to be a long meeting. "Gunn, please sit down, and we'll get to that. Okay?"
Not seeing he had much of a choice, Gunn sat down and sulked. Amy took that as a good sign. She shifted her gaze to Randall. "Captain, would you mind making introductions?"
"Of course," Randall said, standing up. He held a hand out to Tracy and said, "This is my partner, Detective Tracy Vetter." Moving along, he named the rest of those who'd accompanied him from the big city. "This is Lieutenant Pat Kelly, commander of the Zombies SWAT team." He pointed to the other detectives. "These are Detective Steve Sloan and his partner, Detective JD Heart. The kids," he continued, pointing out each one, "are Charles Gunn, leader of the Lost Boys, Pablo Gonzalez, and Lily Westbrook."
"Glad to meet you," Amy said with a nod of greeting. "All right, from the top." She pointed to Kendra, Joe, Shaw, and Brian. "These are members of our Sunnydale team. In order, Kendra McPhereson, Joe N'Gato, Shaw Hunter, and Brian Jessup." Going on to the backup called in from the West Coast, she said, "These are the people who are going to help us. They are Korendil and his cousin, Arvindel, from an elven community in the Bay Area." The indicated Korey and the other Misthold warrior, who cut an impressive figure in his own right. The other was wearing his hair in a purple color, shaved on one side and thrown over the side of the other. "The punk rocker Knight is Eldenor, one of the high-ranking warriors from the group of elves native to Los Angeles." Going on to Beth and Eric, she introduced them. "Eric Banyon and Beth Kentraine, they work with the elves in San Fran." She then indicated the rough-looking trio standing off to the side. "These three are Blade, Whistler, and Dan Ketch. They're from New York, we called them in so we'd have some people with experience in urban settings." She then pointed to the last person. "And this is Detective Axel Foley, Detroit PD." Finally, she pointed to herself. "I'm Amy Madison, and I'm in charge in our boss's absence."
She took in the looks sent her way by the others. Randall and Vetter looked a bit surprised, but seemed open-minded. Sloan was slack-jawed, as were Gunn, Pablo, and Lily. Kelly rubbed his chin softly, while Heart just gave Amy a grin that said she wasn't caught off guard at all.
Amy shifted her sight into the mystical realm and drew back before she could be blinded. <Yep, *she's* the Immie he mentioned.> By the amount of energy she carried, probably from Quickenings, she had to be pretty up there in years.
"Okay, now before anyone starts shouting, 'this can't be real, that can't be real,'" the high school senior said, "it's real. You know vampires exist, so ask yourself this; is it really that far-fetched that other so-called legends would exist?"
"When you put it that way," Sloan said with a snort, "no."
Gunn didn't seem as convinced. "Let me get this straight; those three guys are elves? Real, live, Lord of the Rings elves?"
"We are, Charles Gunn," the one called Eldenor answered, running a hand through his purple locks. "And know that we will do whatever we can do to help you eliminate the vampire threat you and your friends have been so bravely facing."
"Why?" Gunn asked, suspicious even though the man was complimenting his group's courage.
The curly redhead Beth stood up and told him, "It's what they do."
Gunn looked at the others, who shook their heads in confusion. He turned back to Amy and said, "What about you? No offense, but what's a white bread, stick-figure Barbie from the suburbs know about fighting vampires?"
"Well…Hey! Who’re you calling stick-figure Barbie?"
"Hey…if the Calista Flockhart wardrobe fits…"
Amy’s eyes began to turn jet black just as Shaw noisily cleared her throat. That startled Amy and made her regain her composure. "As I was saying…we have our own vamp problem here," the Scooby informed him. "And let's just say that if I wasn't qualified to handle this mission, my boss wouldn’t have left me in charge."
"Who's your boss?"
Amy smiled at him. "Just your average ex-Green Beret turned CIA spook."
The kids and Sloan all stared back wide-eyed. Amy nodded and continued. "Yep, you heard right. The CIA, or certain people in it, knows about what you and I know about. Now, as for me, I have my own special skills."
"Like what?" Gunn asked. "I don't suppose you'd care to share your 'skills' with us, huh?"
Pat Kelly put a hand on Gunn's shoulder. "Son, I wouldn’t go there if I were you. You ain’t gonna like it, trust me."
"Really?" he said, despite Kelly's endorsement.
"Fine," Amy said, turning away from him. Before anyone could comment, she whirled on the L. A. group, threw out her arm and extended it toward Gunn.
Gunn's eyes opened wide as he was sent into the air, flying back about two feet before stopping, hovering in midair. Amy studied him like a bug trapped in a jar while he gaped at what she knew he now saw; her eyes, normally a moderately dark shade of blue, were now pitch black, making it impossible to determine where her irises ended and the pupils began.
Most of the L. A. group looked stunned, and it was Pablo who jumped up and said, "What the Hell are you?!?"
Shaw stepped forward and let a small smile form. In Spanish, she said, "~~I believe, mi amigo, that the word in your tongue is…bruja?~~"
Pablo crossed himself and whispered, "Madre di Dios."
Gunn snapped, "Put me down!"
"Okay," Amy said, smiling fully as she gently lowered him to the floor. After her eyes had returned to normal, she said, "Qualification number one. When fighting vampires and demons, witchcraft is a really, really good equalizer."
"Holy shit," Sloan breathed. He turned to JD and asked, "Do you believe this?"
"Of course," she smiled at him. She glanced at Amy and said, "If I had a nickel for all the people like her I’ve met…"
"How can you have met so many?" Lily asked, wondering just what kind of cop would hang out with witches.
JD gave her a winning smile. "It's L. A., kid. You run across all types in that town!"
Lily blinked and looked at Steve. "She's your partner?"
"Yeah," Steve sighed.
"You have my sympathies."
Steve nodded in understanding. "I get that a lot."
Amy walked over to Gunn and offered her hand. "Sorry about the little demonstration, but I want to get any doubts out of the way quickly, so we can plan our little hunting trip."
"All right," Gunn said uncertainly. Looking at her hand, he asked, "What happens if I shake your hand? You won't, like, turn me into a rat or anything."
Amy laughed pleasantly and Gunn inclined his head toward her and laughed as well. He gently took her hand and said, "So what’s next?"
She cocked an eyebrow slightly when it struck her that he might be flirting with her. Blushing slightly, the witch said, "What we're going to do is plan an assault on the vamps' nest and take them out before they can go after you or Lily's shelter. Do you know where they are?"
By the sheepish looks that came to the three kids' faces, Amy knew that meant bad news. "You don't know."
Gunn shook his head.
"Damn," Amy muttered. "I don't like the idea of going to your hideout, since the vamps would probably expect you to go on the defensive once you find out your man was taken. Do you have any idea how we might find out where they are before sunset?"
It was Sloan who answered. "I did find something at the scene last night, Ms. Madison." He pulled a small card out of his pocket and handed it over to Amy.
She examined it and said, "Vamps with lawyers?"
"Well, it’s not surprising, kinda a professional courtesy thang," Axel noted. When everyone turned to him with questioning looks on their faces, he added, "You know…one bloodsucker to another."
After everyone moaned at the punchline, Amy looked to Joe N'Gato. "Joe, what do you think?"
The Knight of the Grail mused, "I don't know, Amy. I see no legal recourse that we could use to ask them to hand over information on these vampires."
"I wasn't thinking of doing it legally," Amy said with a smile. When the detectives stiffened, the witch said, "Don't start with the whole search warrant thing. We have no way of telling a judge that a vampire street gang is going to attack a homeless shelter, so would you please give us a warrant to search their lawyers' offices."
She tapped her chin, an idea coming to her mind. "If these lawyers are defending vamps, then it stands to reason that some of the local vamps would know about them, right?"
"I would think so," Joe answered before seeing what Amy was getting at. "Willy's?"
"Willy's," Amy snickered. She turned to Shaw and said, "You up for paying a visit to the Alibi Room, Cuz O' Mine?"
"I think that you, being underage," Shaw said, getting her own smile, "would need chaperones so as not to have the authorities suspect William of selling alcoholic beverages to minors."
"Who do you think would make good chaperones?" Amy asked idly.
In unison, the two women glanced at Blade and Whistler.
"I knew we'd get to have some fun while we were here," Whistler chuckled. "This wouldn't be the bar you mentioned during the telephone call, is it?"
"Not this morning," Amy told him. "But it's the local vamp and demon hangout."
Blade smiled, which sent shivers through most of those present. "Sounds like fun. Let's check it out."
"Let's move," the Amazon said before turning to Randall. "Captain Randall, you and Joe get all the info you can from the kids while we're gone. We'll be back soon."
"Right," Randall said. <Why do I get the feeling it's going to be one of those days?>
Willy's Alibi Room
Sunnydale, California (the Wandererverse)
13 December 1998
Willy spared a glance at the door as he poured a Bloody Mary with real blood in it. He smiled when he saw two men walk in, one being an old guy with thick whiskers and a lump of tobacco in his cheek, the other a black man dressed in leather.
He took the payment from the vampire and turned to help the new customers, but stopped when he saw the two young women who entered the bar behind the men.
"Oh, shit," Willy groaned, attracting the attention of two demon customers. "Not now!"
One of the girls, a willowy teenager with shiny blonde hair, strode up to the bar and leaned across it. Smiling at the bartender, she sweetly asked, "How are tricks, Willy?"
"Oh come on, kid," he groaned, glancing at the silent, black-haired little number next to her. "I can't go through this again!"
"Go through what again, Willy?" one of the demons, a Chaos Demon with slimy horns, asked. Standing up, he growled, "Don't tell me this is the Slayer everyone's so afraid of."
"Why, yes…yes I am," the girl said to Willy's confusion. "I'm not your typical Slayer, though."
"I don't see your boy toy here to protect you," the Chaos Demon snarled aggressively. "You're acting pretty cocky for a little slip of a girl who's all alone."
The other woman coldly said, "She is not alone, demon. Now mind your own business."
"Who do you…" the humanoid said before Willy grabbed his shoulder. "What, Willy?"
"That's the Hunter," he hissed. "She destroyed my bar last month, I don't NEED this!"
Shaking off the whiny owner's hand, the Chaos Demon glared at the light-haired girl. "Look, kid, you might have a rep, but you don't impress me. At least the other Slayers were able to fight without an army backing them up."
The woman claiming to be the Slayer grinned widely and said, "Yeah, and look where it got them. But most of the time, I don’t need an army, slick. And to prove it, let me say a few words on the subject." Not waiting for the demon to react, the girl gestured with her hands and chanted, "Goddess Hecate, work thy will! Make my foe small to thee!"
The "Slayer" gathered a massive quantity of glowing orange eldritch energy and flung it at the demon. Startled gasps came from the nonhuman customers as the Chaos Demon disappeared, leaving nothing but clothes in a limp pile. The girl reached into the clothes and grunted in satisfaction. She picked up the four-inch tall demon and asked, "Not so big and tough now, are you, Tiny?"
"Turn me back!" the demon said in a soprano voice.
"Sorry, no can do. I can't cast that spell twice a day," Amy said, flipping the demon to Willy. He caught the demon while she listened to whispers about the Slayer being a witch. <Make them think twice about trying something,> she thought. She leaned forward and said, "Now Willy, before we go any further, let me tell you something about last month. It wasn't the Hunter's fault your bar got trashed."
"I was there, Madison. She trashed the place!"
"That was Ares' influence," Shaw retorted from Amy's left. "He tried to make me his champion. Needless to say, I refused."
Willy looked at her with a frightened look. Glancing beyond her, he asked, "Who's the muscle?"
"Oh, them," Amy said nonchalantly. "They're just some people covering for the Wanderer while he's out of town running an errand."
As she expected, the vamps and demons in the bar perked up at the mention of the absent demon hunter. Sure that she had their attention, Amy heard Shaw muttering under her breath to enact part of their plan.
The witch jerked her head at the men and said, "They're the guys who we called in to help handle patrols while the Wanderer's incommunicado. The old guy's Whistler."
"Hey ya," Whistler greeted Willy.
"And the statue?" Willy asked, suspicious.
Amy turned to lean back against the bar; she didn't want to miss the looks on the vamps' faces. "Oh, him? I think we should let him introduce himself, since he thinks all vamps are good for only one thing—target practice."
Her jab got a newbie undead to snarl, "And just who is this asshole?"
Blade just eyed the vampire through his shades. "The name's Blade."
A number of drinks were either dropped or spat out as the vampires and several demons tried to rush out of the bar. Amy glanced at Shaw and said, "I take it they've heard of him."
"B-B-B-Blade?" Willy stammered, near to wetting himself. "T-T-T-T-The Daywalker?!?"
"The one and only." Amy grinned. "Hunter?"
Shaw finished the last word to her shielding spell and it sprang up around herself, Amy, and the frightened Willy. Blade drew a pair of Para Ordnance 45's and pointed them at the undead customers.
"AHHHHHHHHHH!" Willy screamed, hiding behind the counter.
As the two men cut loose on the vampires, Shaw leaned into Amy. "I think he is going for intimidation."
"Hey, you want intimidation," Amy noted, "you should have seen the reaction Robin got at this demon bar in L. A."
Shaw only nodded as Blade efficiently shot all twenty-two vampires in the bar, not even touching the demons or the few human patrons. As the reports silenced, the remaining customers just stared in shock while Willy slowly rose from his crouched position.
Amy turned to him and said, "Now that we don't have to worry about people interrupting our little chat, there's a little matter of business from last month. Hunter?"
Shaw pulled out a thick envelope and tossed it onto the bar. When Willy looked at her frightfully, she said, "Enclosed is forty-five thousand dollars in cash, to cover the damage I inflicted last month, as well as lost revenue. As I said, it was Ares' attempt to convert me to his cause that led to this."
Remembering the God of War's appearance in his bar the previous month, Willy had no reason to doubt her claim, despite his fears. He swallowed and hesitantly brought up another point. "What about my juke box? That was a one of a kind vintage antique!"
Amy smiled, which made Willy’s knees shake. "Why do you think we took out the vamps first?" She looked over to the spot where Willy's jukebox had stood for years and concentrated. A few seconds later, a jukebox appeared there.
Willy nearly fainted at the sight; it looked even older than the one the Hunter had destroyed. He turned back and asked, "What's the catch?"
"You'll see," Amy promised. She said out loud, "Try it out, guys."
A lizard demon decided to try his luck. He inserted a quarter and pressed a selection but nothing happened. "It's broke!" he protested.
"Allow me," Shaw said. She walked over to the jukebox, ignored the lizard demon scampering away, and inspected the box for a few seconds. She formed a fist and pounded on a spot.
Suddenly, the jukebox began to play "Rock Around The Clock."
Willy blinked and chuckled. "Just like the one from Happy Days."
"Willy, a word of advice. The Hunter doesn't do replicas."
Willy started to stammer while Amy and Shaw leaned in close, with Blade coming up to cover their backs with his stony sneer boring into Willy's shifty eyes.
"W-w-what do you want?" the terrified barkeep asked.
Amy's smile grew. "Wolfram and Hart. Big law firm in L. A. What do you know?"
Willy gulped and said, "You don't want to mess with them, Madison. They're connected."
"Keep going," Amy ordered.
Seeing little choice with a powerful witch, a half-breed elf fighter, and the East Coast's version of the Wanderer less than two feet from him, Willy capitulated and spilled the beans.
St. Wolf Residence
Sunnydale, California (the Wandererverse)
13 December 1998
"So that's where we stand," Amy said neutrally.
The Amazon, in addition to Joe, Shaw, Kendra, Blade, Korendil, Captain Randall, Pat Kelly, and Gunn, all sat in Steve's office. Upon their return from Willy's, Amy had relayed the information given them by the snitch.
"Let me see if I got this right," Gunn growled, unhappy with the turn of events. "Wolfram and Hart, the suits that work for the bloodsuckers we're facing, are the demons' answer to Johnny Cochran, F. Lee Bailey, and Bobby Donnell, all rolled into one?"
"Pretty much," Amy agreed sourly. Glancing around, she said, "But I don’t see any way we could get the info from them." She glanced at Steve’s computer. "Since our resident hackers are on the team’s mission, we can’t do it the easy way, either."
"You saying you can’t help us?" Gunn asked with a hard voice.
"No, that’s not what I’m saying, Gunn." The witch gave him a dark look. "What I am saying is that we have to rethink our strategy. And you’re going to help us do it."
Gunn glanced around before asking, "How?"
Amy pulled out a map of the area of L. A. where Gunn’s group operated. She smoothed it out on Steve’s desk and pointed at it. "From what you told us, the vamps basically work in these areas, right?" She indicated three locations on the map, which overlapped in areas.
Gunn apparently saw the point she was trying to make. "Yeah. We patrol outside the ‘hoods, but we’ve never had problems except when they tried to take us out last night."
"Bingo. So, what does that tell you?" When he looked at her in confusion, she spelled it out. "I think these vamps are still thinking in ‘gang banger’ mode." She pointed out the vamps’ known hangouts. "Seems to me, they’re staking out their own turf, and you’re in the way. No offense."
"None taken. Bein’ in their way is our job."
Amy smiled at him and he returned it with one of his own. "Okay. Here’s my plan." She glanced at Kendra. "Kendra, you know that spell I came up with for enhancing the range of a Slayer’s ‘vampdar?’"
Kendra blinked. "Buffy has told me about it, yes. You want to cast it on me?"
"I thought there were risks involved with that spell, Amy," Joe said hurriedly. "Sir Steven definitely told me that he had concerns about that. Are you sure about this?"
Amy sighed. "Joe, you know a Slayer’s normal range is about a hundred feet. The spell will crank it up to half a mile. And I don’t plan on having her go in and count the vamps." She turned to Blade, cutting off Joe. "Blade, how fast can Dan’s bike go in ‘normal’ mode?"
The Daywalker considered the information for a few moments. "One-fifty, easy."
"Good enough." She turned back to Kendra, who patiently waited for the Amazon to spell out her plan. "Okay, here’s my idea. I cast the spell on Kendra to boost her ability to detect vamps and figure out how many we’re facing. Dan takes her on his bike, in human form, to L. A. and rides through the areas where Gunn’s little playmates hang out. We’ll get numbers and addresses. They return and we use the intel to saddle up and go after them." She graced Gunn with her blue eyes again. "But I will leave a group at the shelter, just in case."
"Cool. So when do we start?"
"Pretty much now." Amy glanced around the room. "Blade, would you ask Dan to come in? Joe, Kendra, Gunn, stay here."
After the others left, Amy let out a sigh. "Okay, the plan’s pretty simple, but I know things can go wrong. Joe," she began, looking at the Liberian, "what do you think?"
Joe gave Kendra an uneasy glance before answering. "As I said, the possible risks associated with this spell lead me to believe that this is ill-advised. Kendra is too preciou—I mean too important to the world to be placed in such jeopardy for a mission where the victim has most likely already been turned by his captors!"
"Kendra’s physical safety isn’t in jeopardy here, Joe," the senior protested. "It’s a get in, get out recon. I want to know what we’re up against. Nothing more."
"You don’t know that for certain, Amy! What happens if the spell harms her in some fashion? Just because it worked for Buffy does not mean it will work without side-effects for Kendra."
"Tell you what," she said, facing the Jamaican Slayer, "what do you think, Kendra? He’s right, there might be risks. Things can happen when you mix magic types."
"An innocent is in danger, Amy. I must do what I can to help him. I can handle it," she said. She stood up straight and squared her shoulders, her feline-like eyes hooded. "You are right in that we need this information. I know the perils of going in blind… as you well know."
Stifling her surprise at Kendra’s admission about her mortality, the witch inclined her head. "Just remember, you’re zipping through the area, taking numbers, and coming back." She allowed a wry smile form. "I remember that there’s a reason Buffy calls you ‘John Wayne.’"
Kendra sighed and nodded. "At least it is better than being called the ‘Pink Ranger.’"
Giggling just a bit, Amy turned to Gunn. "Now, as for you." He stiffened, but she wasn’t going to mince words. "Before you get in my face, let me explain why you will not be hooking up with us for this fight." His jaw dropped and he inhaled to protest. "Don’t even start. Straight up, Gunn; your team doesn’t have the training to keep up with us. Your guys are in a stalemate, but with your friend getting caught, the vamps will know where you hang out. We’re going to take them out first."
Gunn finally snapped back at her, "We deserve some payback!"
"Bullshit," she returned, the calmness of her voice surprising him, as did the hard look in her eyes. "This isn’t about revenge, home boy. This is about keeping your friends above ground, instead of putting them six feet under. Besides that, you and your fighters are out of your league when you stack them up against us. Unless you’ve been holding out on us and some of your homies have magical powers or other stuff." She let her look melt a bit. "Gunn, we’re what you get when you combine sword and sorcery with the Green Berets. We do this every day. Hell, my crazy, seventeen-year-old, military brat cousin has less time under her belt in this gig than you do, but she still has Black Ops training from her Dad and Granddad. You see what I’m saying? If you and your people go in with us, they’ll slow us down and maybe get hurt. You don’t want that, neither do we."
"So what are my people gonna do, Miss Ann?" he asked defiantly, although Amy could see that he’d really had the point hammered home. "They aren’t gonna like not finishing their own fight."
Amy smiled. "Gunn, your Lost Boys will have the most important job of all." When he frowned in confusion, she jerked her head at the doorway. "You said it yourself, the vamps’ll know where Lily’s shelter is. The people there know you and your gang and what they do, right?" He nodded in surprise at her decision. "Keeping Lily’s place in one piece is your job. Yes, I am going to assign some of my people to you, just in case, but the people there know you. I assume there are kids there? Real kids?"
"Yeah," Gunn admitted with a tight jaw. "A few."
"You need to ask yourself a question, Gunn, right here and now." Amy stared the determined leader in the eyes, showing her own determination. "What’s more important to the Lost Boys; getting even, or keeping people safe?"
She was glad when Gunn didn’t have to think about it. "You know where I stand on that."
"Good. Then we can get started."
Ten minutes later, Amy was talking with Dan Ketch, giving him the overlay of the scouting area while Joe stood next to Kendra, trying to make certain she was aware of his concerns.
"I am certain of this," she told him, her folded arms serving to emphasize her confidence. "But I have to wonder about your continued doubts. What concerns you; my ability to handle this mission, or Amy’s skills with witchcraft? I have no doubt in her abilities, I have seen them firsthand."
Joe’s jaw tightened. "Kendra, besides the fact that I am essentially the second-in-command in Sir Steven’s absence, I am also your trainer and the assistant to your Watcher. I am, to some extent, responsible for your welfare."
Kendra arched an eyebrow in inquiry. "I see." With a rare flash of humor, she noted, "You are not afraid of Steven’s wrath--it is Mrs. Summers’ that you fear."
He wasn’t amused. "I am afraid of nothing, woman!" he snapped. "I don’t want anything to happen to you, is all." He glanced at Ketch and Amy. "Please keep in mind, you will have no reinforcements readily available, should something go wrong."
Her eyebrows shot up. She followed his gaze and said, "Considering that Daniel is the host of one of the legendary Spirits of Vengeance, I believe we shall be more than capable of handling any problems that may arise, at least long enough to escape."
"Of course, Kendra. You are, without a doubt, the finest Slayer alive. But…"
"Which is why it always helps to stack the proverbial deck," Shaw’s voice came from behind. Joe turned to face her. She walked up, carrying her sword belt, complete with sheathed blade. She held it out to Kendra, who glanced at her in surprise.
"You want me to take your sword?" she asked doubtfully.
"Unless you want the 40 millimeter grenade launcher–that was my second choice for you," the priestess deadpanned.
Joe winced at the mental picture of his Slayer carrying that kind of weapon. <His ‘Slayer?!?’> he wondered. <Where did that come from?> He shook himself from his momentary lapse and offered with a slight hint of sarcasm, "I would suggest you stick with the sword, Kendra."
She nodded, took the proffered belt, and buckled it on. She smiled at Shaw. "Thank you."
"You lose it, you die a slow and horrible death," Shaw teased softly, her eyes twinkling a bit. Joe sighed while Kendra just rolled her eyes. "You are spending entirely too much time with Xander," the Chosen One noted.
"Kendra," Amy’s voice called, drawing their attention, "we’re ready. Time to rock and roll."
Kendra nodded and moved in that direction, followed by Joe. He decided to make one last effort. "Kendra." She turned to him, impatient. Suddenly, he was lost inside her glorious, hypnotic eyes and, for the first time in his life, was speechless. When he couldn’t find the words, he tried to place a supportive hand on her shoulder, a comforting gesture of a mentor to his protégé. However, his hand betrayed him when it decided to softly cup her cheek in its palm like the most precious artifact in the world. When he found his voice again, it cracked slightly as he murmured, "Although I know it would greatly amuse you to die so that I would suffer an eternity of torment at the hands of Buffy’s mother, I hope you can find it in your heart to not condemn me to such a fate. Please be careful."
Kendra closed her eyes and, for a timeless moment, rubbed her cheek against the palm of his hand. Then her eyes shot wide open and she regarded him with a confused look and a frown. "I…I," she stammered, "shall not take any unnecessary risks." With a flurry, she whirled away from him toward their leader-pro-tem. "I am ready, Amy."
The witch’s face became serious. She held her hands out and chanted in Latin, casting the spell to enhance Kendra’s natural ability to sense the undead. Twin tendrils of blue energy swirled from her hands and wove their way toward the courageous Slayer. The twirling bands of eldritch force entered Kendra’s body through her eyes, wreathing them in blue light for several seconds before fading away.
Joe carefully examined Kendra to see if she suffered any ill effects, but she seemed to be fine. Still, he wasn’t comfortable about this whole thing. He continued to watch as she walked over and climbed onto the seat of Ketch’s motorcycle behind the young…handsome American.
"You ever ridden a bike before?" he asked her with a teasing voice.
Kendra stiffened. "No, I haven’t."
"Then wrap your arms around my waist and hold on tight."
That part of the plan had slipped Joe’s mind until the young man had uttered those words.
As she wrapped her muscular arms around the man’s waist and gripped one wrist with her hand, Joe felt something angry and ugly boil inside his guts for reasons he couldn’t determine. Then Ketch kicked the bike into motion, speeding off and rapidly approaching what would normally be unsafe speeds.
Gritting his teeth, Joe barely heard Amy when she called to him to go back inside and wait for the scouts’ return. He made a mental note to research the most effective and painful way to torture a Spirit of Vengeance if anything happened to Kendra. Then he walked back into the house.
As Amy entered the house, Gunn intercepted her. "So now what?"
"Now comes the hard part." Amy glanced back toward the doorway. "We wait."
Los Angeles, California (the Wandererverse)
13 December 1998
Dan pulled out the map to get his bearings. "Okay," he said after glancing at the street signs. "We’re only a mile and a half away. We’ll be there in no time at all." He glanced at his partner when she didn’t reply. "Kendra?"
She swiveled her head to look at him. "Yes?"
"You okay?"
She shook herself, as if shrugging off something. "I was just remembering the last time I was in Los Angeles." He cocked an eyebrow. "It was during the vampire cult battle. I fought a Sixth Circle demon and ended up spending two months in a hospital bed."
"Ahhh," he said softly. "Close calls are a part of the business."
Her eyes soured. "How many ‘close calls’ have you had, Daniel?"
"Somewhere between six and ten, I think. I got tired of keeping track." He shrugged. "But we’re on company time. You ready?"
She gave him a tight smile. "I am."
"Let’s motor."
Dan took them on a up and down pattern, going from North to South at a moderate clip, allowing Kendra’s enhanced gifts to get any general or low-level readings. While the Slayer did report when she had sensed solitary or partnered vampires in certain buildings, they both ignored them.
They were after bigger numbers.
Finally Kendra’s arms tightened around his waist, making him grimace at the power in those deceptively feminine arms. He softly said, "Loosen up, please?" She did a bit. "Thanks. Where are they?"
She pointed forward at a building about fifty yards away. "There."
"Why didn’t you feel them sooner?" he asked; the range of her Spider Sense was supposed to be cranked way up.
"I felt them awhile ago, but I wanted to be able to narrow down the location and numbers. This is the first nest that has more than one or two vampires in it."
<Okay, she’s making sense.> He nodded and pulled the bike over. As Kendra dismounted and bent over to stretch her leg muscles, he pretended to check his gas and engine indicators while he eyed her beautiful body surreptitiously. He whispered, "How many?"
"Five… eight…" Her voice seemed distant, but he knew she was just focusing. "Fifteen."
He shared a look with her. Fifteen vampires was a decent-sized nest, but they were expecting more than that. He pursed his lips and tried thinking of it from a gangbanger pov. "I got it. They might use separate hideouts, just like Gunn’s group does. This is probably one of their back up joints."
Kendra’s face fell, seemingly disappointed that the vampires were using "good" tactics.
<It makes our job harder,> Dan sighed. "Okay, let’s get out of here. Get the address as we zip by and we’ll mark it down on the map once we get out of sight."
Kendra nodded and climbed aboard the bike. This time, Dan didn’t mind feeling her strong hands brush against his abdomen as they clasped themselves around his waist and her firm breasts pressed against his back.
Kendra tried to concentrate on the enhanced abilities given to her by the spell in lieu of the pain she felt whenever she detected any vampires that were close by. She only hoped that her assigned partner wouldn’t realize how uncomfortable she was and tell Amy and Joe how she could not do what Buffy had done before.
<We need to find the vampires’ main lair,> she told herself. <Then we can go home and let the pain subside before going into battle.> Amy had given her the choice about the spell and Kendra was never one to cry over spilt milk. She would make the best of it.
She forced a smile. "Let us locate the main nest."
"Okay," the American agreed, wheeling off into the early afternoon sun.
St. Wolf Residence
Sunnydale, California (the Wandererverse)
13 December 1998
"Got it. Get back here, pronto. And I do mean, 'pronto,'" Amy said into her cell phone. She knew the others became confused at her smile. "No, I'm not worried about you two playing 'Lone Ranger.' I'm worried about you getting stuck in a Mickey D's drive-thru. Bye."
She turned off the speakerphone and looked at Joe, Gunn, Randall, Vetter, and Pat Kelly. "Okay Gunn, show me where they are."
Stifling a smile of triumph at finding out the location of a lair containing sixty-one vamps, the young fighter indicated it on the holographic map. "That's it. That's their hangout."
Amy nodded; she might not be a hacker, but she did know enough to get by on Steve's monster machine in her friends' absence. "Okay. Captain Randall, I don't suppose you could have some of your friends email us a copy of the blueprints for that building?"
"I don't think so, not on a Sunday," he grimaced. "But I can have the Rangers or Zombies get a copy…"
"Excuse me," Gunn said, raising a hand, "but why don't you just have one of my homies tell you about the place?" When everyone turned to him, he rolled his eyes. "Guys, we're from the 'Hood!' Between my homies and the people who hang out at Lily's shelter, we've got at least one person who'll know any building in that part of town, inside and out!"
"Okay," Amy said, not missing a beat. She tossed him her own cellular unit. "Get crackin'."
Gunn grinned at her and flipped the phone open. As he turned away for some amount of privacy, Amy reluctantly tore her gaze from his well-defined butt. As the day had gone on, she found herself growing more attracted to the tall African American. <I don’t know what it is,> she mused, <but the boy’s got...’Grrr!’> Shaking off her thoughts, she glanced at the map. "Okay, question one. Do we use a close assault, or do we resort to using snipers? I'm thinking up close and personal, uzi's and shotguns. Opinions?"
"I agree with Amy," Joe N'Gato said, but he pointed at buildings around the location of the larger nest. "But I would establish sniper nests around the lair itself. There are no guarantees that we will kill all of them in the fog of battle."
"Agreed," Kelly offered. He tapped his chin and suggested, "And we'll want teams covering the sewers, just in case. We know vamps like to use them in the daytime."
"Okay, hold on," Amy sighed, waving her hands. "If we start playing 'cover all the bases,' two things are going to happen. One, we'll be here all day. We don't have all night to plan ahead like we did in July. We're talking hours. Secondly, we'll spread ourselves too thin. I don't want to do that. So let's play KISS." She gave each person a glance. "Okay, we'll establish snipers. Lieutenant Kelly, you're the expert. Who, how many, and where?"
The Immortal SWAT officer glanced at the map for several seconds. He pointed at seven different locations. "Two men per location. This lets us cover all directions and avenues of exit, even the roof."
"Good," the Amazon noted. "We have enough people between the Zombies and Rangers?" Kelly and Randall both nodded. "Good. That's enough to start with. We'll wait for Dan and Kendra to return so they can give us the details they noticed, like the front door and windows. Then we'll head to L. A. and fine tune the assault plans." She glanced around the table once. "Anything else?"
"Yes," Joe said softly, pointing to the location of the smaller nest that Kendra had detected, "What about this other nest?"
"Hmmm," Amy mused before getting a nasty idea. She looked over at Gunn, who was still on the phone. "Gunn!"
The black man jumped and glared at her for startling him. "Just do it!" he snapped to someone before hanging up. He walked back over to the table, tossing the phone to her on the way. "What is it?"
"We have two lairs," Amy reminded him. "I'm hoping you can tell me if the smaller group's with the ones you're fighting, or if they might be a different gang. Like you said, these were gang bangers and the like. Would they split from the main group?"
Seeing what Amy was getting at, Gunn shook his head. "No way. I don't know why, but these vamps still think about and keep with their own gang. None of them'd split into another. That'd just make 'em fight each other."
"So this is probably another hangout," Amy reasoned.
"Yeah, probably. But I thought we were going after the big one."
"We are." Amy looked at the others, who could see where she was going with her train of thought. "But when we do, we're going to make a lot of noise. If that smaller group hears about us while we're fighting, one of two things is going to happen."
Gunn's face turned sour. "They'll either come to help or head for the hills."
"Leaving me with a job not totally finished or with them coming up to literally bite us in the ass," Amy finished. She glanced at Kelly again. "Can you set up more sniper nests, with people watching for the reinforcements?"
"It'll take more people, but yeah," Kelly answered with certainty. "I know just who to assign to them."
"Good," she said, tapping some keys on the computer and shutting down the hologram. "Let's get to the next item. We need a place to assemble the troops." She glanced at Gunn. "Assuming they already know where your team's staying, is there anyplace we can meet? I'm talking about everyone; my team, the Detectives, two SWAT teams, and the Lost Boys. What's the spot to hold our powwow?"
Gunn blinked. He hadn't expected White Bread to have him make any decisions. "You want me to choose the meeting place."
"It's your 'hood,' Gunn. These vamps think like gang bangers, you know how they think. What's the place they wouldn't expect your Boys to go?"
Gunn considered it for a few seconds before giving her a sly smile. "The shelter." On her raised eyebrow, his smile broke open. "I'm going by how they think, Barbie. They know me pretty well; they'd never expect me to take the whole gang to the shelter. They know I'm into keeping civvies out of it."
It made sense to him and, if the thoughtful looks on the others' faces were right, it made sense to them. Amy finally nodded. "We'd have to get the Lost Boys there anyway. At least then they'll already be in place." She turned back to him. "Good thinking, Kojak."
"Thanks... hey, who you calling Kojak?!?"
The witch's smile was way too innocent. "Well, you've got his look working for you." Her eyes twinkled a bit. "Really, Gunn, the glare off your noggin could blind someone."
Gunn growled at her. "Yeah, well, several celebrities come to mind when I check out your flat-assed, Lara-Flynn-Boyle profile, 'Calista,' so keep it up…"
"If you insist," she shrugged, using a feigned look of indifference to hide the thrill she felt from her verbal sparring with this tall, handsome man. "Captain Randall, Lieutenant Kelly," she said, turning to the police officers, "go on back to Los Angeles and get your people there on the move, ASAP. Have them meet you at the shelter. We'll bring the ammo."
"Got it," Randall said, picking up his jacket from one of the chairs. "I'll get Sloan and Heart…"
"Actually, I need to talk to Detective Heart," she protested. "She obviously has experience with this sort of thing. I want to find out how much."
Gunn was confused when Randall glanced at him and the N'Gato dude. He nodded and said, "Sloan won't like it."
"Tell Sloan he'll see her again at the shelter. If he has a problem, tell him he really doesn’t want to experience my transformation from 'Wendy' to 'Bitca.'"
Gunn tried not to laugh while Randall seemed to get the joke, too. "Right. See you there." Now the cop looked at him. "Gunn, we'll get there as soon as we can. You think we should take Lily with us?"
"Nah, the Boys are already headed there," he smirked at the Madison babe. "Alonna can keep them from trashing your pretty boys."
Kelly growled at him. "You callin' my SWAT team pretty boys, kid?"
"Yep," he said with a bark. <Dude's not half bad for a cop.>
Despite enjoying herself, Amy snapped, "Enough chatter. Captain, get going."
She felt the instant of hesitation from Randall, who was used to giving orders, not taking them. <He knows why it's this way.> As the cops started leaving, she glanced at N'Gato. "Joe, I want you to go back over the equipment kits with Larry and Brian, then have them get some stuff out for Blade and Whistler. They can have the pick of toys for this fight. Then I want you to watch for Kendra and Dan, let me know when they get back."
"What will you be doing?" the Knight asked her.
She smiled and laid her eyes on Gunn, who cocked an eyebrow and returned her smile. "I'm going to show Gunn around a bit and talk to him." She gave him a smile that didn't fool either of them. "Gunn, get Pablo and Lily. We're going to have a little chat in private."
"Why do I get the feeling I'm gonna really, really regret this?" the urban vamp fighter groused.
"'Cause you've been on the Hellmouth for an hour," she replied, knowing he had no idea what that meant. "Come on, Curly."
Amy allowed Gunn to retrieve his two companions from the kitchen and bring them to talk in the training room, where she was with Shaw after having a quick discussion with Beth and Eric. The witch decided not to inquire about the flushed look on Shaw's face when she'd found her cuz talking to Eldenor and Korendil.
After the Los Angelinos entered the training room, Amy closed the door behind them. She waited for the other four to turn and face them before she said, "Okay, I'll cut to the chase." She looked at Gunn. "Gunn, I need to know something about your people."
"What's that?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"Will the Lost Boys have any problems working with elves?"
Gunn blinked; obviously he hadn't thought about that. Finally, he admitted, "I don't know. I mean…"
"The only nonhumans you've had dealings with are vamps and demons," Amy said for him. When he sheepishly nodded, she glanced at the others. "Pablo? How about you?"
He seemed a bit nervous but looked her in the eye when he answered. "The other guys were telling us how they help kids. They said they could 'pass' for human with that glamour trick of theirs."
Shaw spoke up. "I brought up the possibility that the Lost Boys might not take kindly to deception, but Eldenor and Arvindel raised the point that not 'everyone' should know about the elven people."
Amy sighed. "Gunn, I think you at least have a gut feeling about us. What do you think?"
"You know, you're asking my opinion on a lot of things," he noted. Amy noted that he didn't seem upset by that. "Why is that?"
"Two reasons," she said, folding her arms across her chest. She smiled wryly as the action drew his gaze to her breasts. He glanced up and saw that she had caught him. <Made you look,> she mused. "First, it's your part of town. Even the SWAT guys might need your info on the buildings." He nodded. "The second reason is that while I'm leaving Eldenor, Eric, and Shaw at the shelter with you and your team, I'm putting you in charge."
Gunn's jaw fell, followed by Pablo's and Lily's a split second later. "WHAT?!?"
"Gunn, this is your team and your people," Amy said with a note of sympathy for his shock. "You're the one who brought them together. You're the one who's led them for eight months. That means you're the one they follow. You're their leader, Gunn. I won't take that away from you or them."
"What about El?" Pablo pitched in. "He's an elf, he's gotta be a few hundred years old. Why isn't he in charge?"
"For one thing, Eldenor's not a mage, so he's a pure fighter like you guys," Amy brought up.
Shaw unexpectedly added, "There is also the fact that under most circumstances, elves and humans fight by certain rules, such as keeping civilians out of the way if possible. The exceptions to these tend to be people like terrorists or lunatics."
"Of course, you city guys play by your own rules," Amy said with a grin that Gunn shot back at her when he understood the compliment behind her words. "You fight dirty. And you know how these vamps fight. Besides, the people at the shelter trust you, Gunn. I'm hoping you can get them to trust my people while they're there."
Lily cleared her throat and Amy smiled at her. "Why are Eric and Shaw staying with us?"
<Good girl. Ask questions.> "In Eric's case, he has certain kinds of magic, but they aren't the 'say the words, waggle the fingers, shoot a lightning bolt' type that Beth and I use. His are subtler and take a bit longer. In Shaw's case…" She hesitated and glanced at Shaw, waiting to see if she objected.
"In my case, I am our team's version of a medic," she said. "While Amy's magic is more general, including strong offensive and enemy detection spells, my abilities are more aligned for defense, nature, and healing."
"You're a witch, too?" Pablo asked, looking nervous.
Shaw shook her head. "Not quite, Pablo. I am more like a shaman of the Native American tribes that lived here before the Europeans came and less like a 'Stick Figure Barbie'. Nor would I waste good magic on someone for calling me something like that when a simple kick between his legs would suffice."
"Can the comedy routine, cuz," Amy groaned. <Okay, she's trying to lower the tension, but don't do it at my expense. I don't want them thinking we're not focused on their problem.> "Seriously, guys. The shelter's not only going to be our meeting place, it's going to be our rendezvous point after the fight. I want to know that not only can your people protect the shelter in case the vamps attack it while we're kicking their buddies' asses, I want to know that I'm going to come back and find my friends and my cousin in one piece."
"Why're you worried about your cuz, Madison?" Gunn asked, looking confused. "Just 'cause she's not American…"
"You didn't know witchcraft was real until I 'showed' you," the witch reminded her. "And I can understand you and your people being skittish around the elves. But I need to know, deep down, that your people won't Wig if they find out."
Gunn's jaw tightened, which Amy liked. "They'll deal, Suburb Girl. If they're taking out vamps, then we can work together."
"Good. I was hoping you'd say that." She smiled. "Shows you know your people as well as I hoped."
"Okay, anything else we need to talk about?" Gunn said with a nod of respect.
Amy nodded back. "Yep. We're going to outfit your people a little better for this fight. I need to ask you three questions, you need to answer them truthfully."
Gunn jaw tightened. "Shoot."
"Okay, the first question is; how many of your people know how to use guns? I'm talking Beretta 9 mills."
Gunn was about to make the reflexive protest that guns didn't work on vamps until he remembered the ammo Randall had shown him last night. "Berettas?"
"Berettas," the Flockhart wannabe said with that smile that he found both sexy and maddening at the same time. <Makes me think she's about to say a smartass line.> "I'm not taking the chance of your people getting trigger happy with Uzis or M-16's. So we're keeping it simple."
"Uzis?" Pablo and Lily said, somewhat frightfully.
Gunn glanced at them. "Guys, these people are CIA, remember? They use Army-type toys." He turned back to the smirking witch. "Next you'll be telling me you got an Abrams tank stashed somewhere."
"No, but we do have a Paco Vega special."
Gunn stiffened, as did Pablo next to him. <If VEGA did business with these guys, then we can really trust them to keep quiet.> "Okay, getting serious, I know seven or eight of the Boys who can handle that type of gun."
"Which leads to question number two; how many of them do you trust to handle them right? I won't let any people horse around with our gear. It's not strictly legal or civilian, if you get my drift."
"Hey, I know the people who can handle them! I do have some smarts, you know!"
"Fine," Amy said, not giving an inch. "Question number three; how many of them can hit what they AIM at?"
"I should've seen that one coming," the man muttered. He sighed before looking back up at her. "They can hit vamps, but I'm not sure about exactly where they can hit them."
"Don't worry, the stuff we're carrying will hurt them."
"Wooden bullets only work if you hit the vampires in the heart," Lily said.
Amy smiled at her. "Oh trust me, we've made some… modifications since July's battle." She glanced at Shaw. "Cuz?"
Shaw cocked an eyebrow at having the Lecture Girl role thrust upon her. As the three Angelinos turned to her, Shaw reported, "We generally use three types of ammunition in this type of operation. The first are wooden rounds similar to the ones you saw last night. The second type are forged silver bullets of varying caliber, as some demon types are vulnerable to silver weapons."
She glanced at Amy, who nodded. <They know some of it, I want to know they won't try anything on you.>
She watched as Shaw turned back to her listeners. "The rounds we will use at the shelter will be a mix of wooden bullets and armor-piercing ammunition."
"Cop killers?" Pablo blurted out. He and Gunn turned back to her. "You're gonna use cop killers against vamps?"
<Time to show them how serious we are.> Amy shook her head. "Don't gangbangers use cop killers?" When the pair looked at each other, she continued. "Time to wake up and smell the coffee, boys. I'm going into this expecting the worst. I'm going to assume they are using cop killers. That's why we're going to top them. In Spades!"
"How?" Gunn asked, looking sick; the vamps had tried drive by tactics before, with little success. <But still…>
"The vamps might use Teflon coated bullets, what you call cop killers," she told them. Her eyes gleamed as she told them about their ammo. "Our bullets, on the other hand, are steel-jacketed, armor-piercing, NATO-issue rounds. That's NATO, as in military, not some civilian knockoff."
"You guys play for keeps," Pablo muttered with a shiver. "But how are they gonna hurt the vamps?"
"Same way holy water or a cross does," the Amazon answered. Off their confused glances, she shrugged. "A priestly blessing on a bullet goes a long way."
It was Gunn who realized what she was saying. "You had a priest BLESS your bullets?!?"
"As well as many of our hand-to-hand weapons," Shaw noted, finally getting what Amy was trying to hint at. "I could do the same for your handheld weapons once we arrive at the shelter."
Gunn stared at her. "You're a priest?"
"In a sense. I told you what my magic was like."
Gunn glanced at the stick girl who should have been a cheerleader rather than an assault leader. "She's legit," Amy confirmed.
He glanced back at the elf girl; Pablo'd told her that that El dude had goofed by saying her full name. <But she came clean with him and Lily. Gotta give 'em props for giving us the word.> "So you're some kinda heap big medicine woman?"
He jumped when Amy moaned. He turned back to her, but she had buried her face in her hands.
Her cousin hissed, "Yes! And you said I use that line too often..."
Gunn didn't get the joke. "What..."
It was then that Joe N'Gato entered the room. The group turned to him and he said, "They've returned."
"Already?" Amy said, looking surprised.
N'Gato winced. "When you told them to return as soon as they could, Kendra agreed that perhaps they should move faster. So, she had Ketch make the transformation to have his motorcycle travel at its greatest speed."
"Goddess! I'm going to kill that crazy Slayer!" the witch growled.
"The line forms behind me, Amy," N'Gato said in agreement.
Gunn frowned. "I thought you WANTED Voodoo Girl and Big Apple Boy to get back here pronto?"
"Gunn, you did hear me say we're a Covert Operations group, right?" He nodded. "Well, HOW COVERT IS A FLAMING DEMON AND MOTORCYCLE GOING 300 MILES PER HOUR IN BROAD DAYLIGHT?!?"
Gunn winced. "Oh. I see your point."
She turned to her cuz. "Is she on her period or something?"
Shaw smiled, but it wasn't very friendly. "No. Let us leave it at that."
<I hope I'm not getting too old for this shit.> Gunn thought.
Amy tore her gaze from the people packing up the equipment for the Los Angeles mission and glanced at Larry. "You know the plan, right?"
"Yeah," he said with a confident air. "Charlie shows up, we go on patrol. Don’t worry, Amy, with him I think the three of us can handle it."
"I know you can, but I’m hoping to be back here as soon as possible," she said. "I hate leaving you guys alone like this."
He gripped her shoulder and chuckled. "Hey, if anything, the vamps’ll be running to get away from Detective Foley’s one-liners."
Amy laughed easily. "Or your one-liners?" she asked teasingly. "Be careful, Lar."
"You too, Sabrina," he said, going by her "official" nickname. He looked over her shoulder. "Uh oh. Joe looks pissed."
Amy turned around, becoming all business. "Joe, what’s wrong?"
"That… that… AMERICAN!" N’Gato snarled before stomping past her.
The two teenagers looked at each other before glancing in the direction the Knight had just come from. They saw Axel walking toward them.
"Detective Foley, what happened?" Amy demanded.
"Beats me," the Detroiter admitted. "All I did was say something about your Slayer and Skull Boy!"
"What did you say?" Larry asked.
"I said that Kendra and Danny Boy made a cute couple on the dude’s motorcycle," he said. "What’s…"
"Joe and Kendra are in ‘Denial Phase,’" Amy said with a groan.
Axel blinked at her. "Ohhhhhhhhhh…" He squinted. "Am I a dead homey walking?"
"No, since Joe’s coming with us to L. A." She sighed. "Thanks a lot, Axel!"
"What? What’d I say?!?"
Amy approached the others, shaking her head. She stared at Detective Heart, who inspected the hardware the team was taking to the City of Angels. "Detective?"
The Immortal turned around and glanced at her. She broke into an easy grin and said, "What’s up, kiddo?"
Glancing around to make sure no one was within earshot, the Amazon said in a low voice, "I just want to get some information from you about your ‘experience.’ All right?"
JD’s guard went up several notches. She nonchalantly picked up one of the Berettas the kiddies were packing and started inspecting it. "Yeah, what do you want to know, kid?"
"Let’s start with your ‘birth certificate,’" the blonde witch said with a tight smile. "What’s the date on it?"
She gave the girl her best, wicked smile. "16,000 B. C."
The Madison kid just arched an eyebrow. "That long, huh?"
"Yep. That a problem?"
To her credit, the kid in charge shook her head. "Just want to know if you can pull your own weight, Detective."
"Ex-CUSE me?" JD snapped, dropping the gun in the back of the Madison Girl’s SUV. "Pull my weight? Kid, you got no idea how dangerous I can be when I put my mind to it."
"Try me," Amy said.
Fuming a bit, JD got into the girl’s face. "Let me tell you something, brat. You might be a fairly powerful witch for your age, but being able to cast spells doesn’t make you a fighter. Are you going to be able to pull your weight when we get into that building?"
"I will," the thin teenybopper said confidently. "You’re right, being a witch didn’t make me a fighter." She gave JD a sly grin. "The Lady Artemis did that."
JD felt her eyes opening wider. <Artemis…> "Oh shit," she whispered. "You’re an Amazon?" When Madison nodded sweetly, JD relaxed a great deal. "I knew some of your sisters back in the day, kid, and they might have been stubborn, man-hating hardheads, but they always held their own in a scrap." She felt a twinge of nostalgia. "I thought your ancestors were wiped out many, many moons ago."
"Something to think about, Detective," Amy told her with an all-too-familiar gleam in her eye. "The two hundred Amazons who died in that valley were a diversion. They were the mothers and grandmothers who sacrificed themselves to allow three hundred daughters, granddaughters, and a few scattered great-granddaughters flee and go underground." The Amazon in front of JD straightened herself and gave her a look of pure pride in her ancient sisters. "People who know the Romans’ side of the history point out that all two hundred Amazons died that day. What everyone seems to forget is that they sent one thousand Roman Legionnaires to Hades. Anyone who says the Amazons lost that battle are clueless."
JD couldn’t help but be impressed with this girl. "I asked you if you can pull your weight, kid. Don’t need no history lessons." When Amy rolled her eyes in exasperation, JD relented. "Okay, kid. Yeah, I can hold my own. I can shoot straight and kick ass with steel or without. I’m more than ready to take these vamps out. I assume you’re putting me in the first wave?"
"Damn straight. But I’m leaving it up to you to discuss why with your partner," she told her.
Amy watched the Immortal’s eyes light up at the blatant hint. "He doesn’t know."
"Nope," JD said easily. Amy saw that JD did and didn’t regret that. "I see what you’re saying, kiddo. You think I should tell him."
"No, but I can tell you this; except for the New York guys, everyone in the main battle group, including the mortal Zombies and Rangers, knows about Immies." She paused to let that sink in. "That’s part of why I’m bringing this up now. That, and the fact that you two have the hots for each other."
The Detective got in her face again. "That, Munchkin, is none of your beeswax."
"Didn’t say it was," she agreed. She folded her arms. "But keep in mind, you might have Captain Randall and Detective Vetter talk to him if something happens at the fight." She paused and frowned. "Did Pat Kelly or any of the other Old Guys tell you about Shiva?"
"Oh yeah," JD said, sounding less than impressed. "The whole Immie destiny thing is legit, huh?"
"It’s legit."
"Okay," the Immortal said. She turned back to the Berettas. "Tell you what; let me finish this stuff and we’ll talk on the way to L. A. And call me JD, got it?"
Amy grinned; she was almost as bad as Axel. "Sure, JD." She turned around and raised her voice. "Okay, people, we’re moving out. Pack your gear and mount up!"
The others in the battle group increased their pace. Amy nodded in satisfaction and pulled Steve’s keys from her pocket.
<Time to save the day.>
East Side Teen Shelter
Los Angeles, California (the Wandererverse)
13 December 1998
Pat Kelly keyed his radio. "They’re here."
Juan Sanchez keyed an acknowledgement. "We’re on it."
Kelly smiled to himself. <Let’s see how these kids stand up to the pros…> He resumed his job of inspecting passing vehicles with his infrared sights to see if vampires were chancing driving around in the daylight.
Rondell and Jaina continued to glare at the Fuzzballs when the Sanchez guy walked up to them. "What do you want?" Rondell asked defiantly.
The cop just smiled, which irritated him and Jaina even more. "Just thought you might like know that Gunn’s back."
After the initial burst of surprise, Gunn’s second in command grinned. "Good. Now we’ll get this shit straightened out." He glanced at the flamethrower operator. "Come on, Jaina."
"Right," she said, giving Sanchez her own glare. Old habits died hard.
Rondell led her toward the front door. He saw Alonna, who’d probably been told as her eyes were lit up with worry. <And not just for Gunn.> Alonna and Lily were two of a kind, he thought with a smile. <Wish I could find a girl like Lily…>
"You heard?" Alonna asked in that calm voice of hers.
"Yeah. I wanna find out what’s going on with these cops." She grabbed his arm, stopping him. "What?" he asked.
Alonna stared at him. "They didn’t tell you?" He shook his head. "Rondell, these officers are SWAT teams."
The young man stiffened; now he got why they were even cockier than most Fuzz. <SWAT?!? Oh SHIT!!!> They’d told the Lost Boys they were here to help handle the vamp problem, but he’d just dismissed it as idle fantasies; no way their cop-issue guns would work on the bloodsuckers. "Shit…" he murmured before glancing at Jaina, who was similarly shaken. "They’re gonna be packin’ some serious heat."
"But it still won’t hurt the vamps," Jaina insisted.
"They have bullets made of wood," Alonna answered. "And Lieutenant Kelly told me they carry military and sniper rifles."
Rondell finally figured out why the cops hadn’t talked to him or Jaina about this stuff; they had been showing some serious ‘tude and putting the Fuzz down. He looked at Jaina, who seemed to be thinking the same thing.
<What the Hell have we gotten ourselves into?>
Jaina lightly smacked his arm as Gunn walked in, followed by Pablo, Lily, and two others; a brother and some blonde hottie. He then noticed what she’d meant to bring his attention to; they were wearing body armor under their coats.
<Shit.> He strode toward Gunn. "’Bout time you got back, homie."
Gunn hugged him and backed up, smiling. "So how much bullshit you been giving the pretty boys?"
He winced; his pal knew him too well. "They didn’t tell us they were frickin’ SWAT, Gunn." He glanced over Lily’s shoulder. "Who the hell are these guys, more cops?"
"Nope," Gunn said, not elaborating. "We’re gonna get it sorted out right now. They’re gonna take out the vamps, we’re gonna guard the shelter."
Jaina shrieked, "Whaddya mean we’re guarding the shelter?!? We’re gonna take out the vamps!"
Gunn sighed. <I knew these two were going to be pissed.> He glanced at Calista’s Love Child. "Well? You wanna handle this or do you want me to do it?"
She flashed that maddening smile at him. "Let’s get our groups together and get the crap out of the way. We have vamps to dust."
Gunn saw Jaina and Rondell staring at the girl from the suburbs. <Okay, which one’s gonna blow first? Two to one it’s Rondell…>
It was. "Gunn, what’s going on here?" he snapped. "You’re taking orders from this Malibu Barbie?!?"
Amy gritted her teeth. "Hey!" she snapped. "What the Hell is with you guys and your fixation on a plastic doll, for Goddess sakes?!? I think you guys better deal with your issues concerning little girls’ toys!"
"Hey!" Gunn snapped, making his two main homeys cringe. Sometimes, you had to lay down the law. "I’m gonna give you the four-one-one; they offered to help us! They didn’t have to come here, but they’re here. And they’re going to keep us here to guard the wounded and the kids."
That got them, especially Jaina. Rondell didn’t drop it though. "Who are they?"
Again, he deferred to Madison.
She gave the two hard cases a grin. "Go ahead, Curly. I could use the laugh."
He chuckled and shook his head. "You wanna know who they are?" They nodded with hostile glares directed at Amy and Joe. "Fine. These are the dudes who took out the bloodsucker cult last summer."
By the way the man and woman stiffened, the point had been made. Amy nodded to the pair. "Okay, I’ll be nice and ask what your names are. I like operating on a first name basis with people who make my job easier by kicking vamp ass like we do."
The others looked at Gunn, who smirked at them; he enjoyed being on the other end of the intros.
"Rondell," the man said, looking her up and down with distaste.
"I’m Jaina, Miss Ann." the girl spat.
"Pleased to meet you," Amy said neutrally. She offered her hand to Rondell. "Amy Madison." As he stared at it, she added, "Gunn can tell you I don’t bite. Unless it’s my boyfriend."
Rondell snarled at her, but took her hand. He asked, "So what’s a rich white bit–er...chick doing hangin’ with the cops?"
"The Zombies and Rangers are our back up," the Amazon said, sarcasm dripping from her lips. "My people are the ones who’ll go toe-to-toe with the vamps."
"Oh, please!" Jaina snapped at her. She turned back to her boss and demanded, "What kind of shit has this stupid bitch been feeding you?!?"
Amy sighed. "Gunn, Gunn, Gunn..." she murmured, sounding disappointed.
"Oh no!" he shouted, turning toward her and stepping in front of his people. "Please don’t pull your crazy shit on them!"
"No rats...I promise."
Gunn watched her suspiciously. "What are you gonna do?"
Amy grinned and glanced around, seeking out some people. "You’ll see." She barked out, "Shaw, bring Lily and Pablo with you!"
"Excuse me," the black girl, who’d been silent up until now, asked quietly. "Can I ask what’s going on here?"
"In a second, honey," Amy promised, smiling warmly at her. She glanced at Gunn. "Your sister?"
"Yep," Gunn said with a terse nod. Despite the short answer, the look in his eyes and the tone of voice hopefully relayed the depths of his love for his sister to the witch.
Shaw arrived, decked out in the Grail armor the team used and carrying a Beretta 9 mill in a shoulder holster. Pablo and Lily were with her. "Yes, Amy?"
"Tell these city kids what I am, like you did Pablo," she said.
Shaw arched an eyebrow. "Is that wise?"
"Just do it," Amy said firmly.
She nodded. She turned to the Lost Boys and shrugged. "In Spanish, you would call Amy a ‘bruja,’ a witch."
"Okay," Amy said, turning back to the stunned Rondell and Jaina, "You wanted to know who we are, here it is, straight up; we’re Section Seven. And before you ask, that means this; we’re the CIA’s version of the Green Berets and Navy SEALS. In fact, our overall boss was a Beret before taking this job. Since he and most of our team are on a mission already, command of this little turf war has been handed to me." She waited for them to comment, but the two doubtful street fighters just glared at her, waiting for her to continue. "As for the people coming in, we’re from all over. In our group alone, we’ve got Californians, New Yorkers, a Brit, a Jamaican, and my second-in-command’s from Liberia."
"Gunn, blood," Rondell said, jabbing a finger at her, "What has this loco babe been smokin’?"
<That’s it,> Amy snarled. She reached out, grabbed the finger, and twisted. Rondell screamed and fell to his knees. She froze the protesting Jaina with a glare that told her, ‘step off, bitch.’ She bent over and said with false sweetness, "I suppose your mama never told you not to point at people, eh sucka?" She ignored Gunn’s snickers to focus on the holdouts. "Okay, let’s get something straight, both of you. I’m in command here. After me are Joe, Captain Randall, Lieutenant Kelly, then your boss, Gunn. You’re taking orders from me until I say different, got that? And just so we reach an understanding…" She let her eyes bleed black, just for effect. His eyes widened in terror and she raised her head up to Jaina and Alonna, who both backed up a couple of steps. "One. I have the equivalent of five, count them, five black belts. Two. I’m an expert in most American, European, and Israeli military weapons. Three. I’ve been fighting and killing vamps for the better part of two years. And four, last but certainly not least, I am the biggest, baddest, and nastiest Honest-to-Goddess, spell casting, live-and-in-living-color witch south of Frisco. GOT THAT?"
She loosed her grip on Rondell and backed away, allowing her eyes to shift to their normal color. She reached under her coat and showed off the Glock 19 she had at her side. "Now, consider that I just used a nerve pinch on you, be glad you didn’t do more than mildly irritate me, or I might’ve gotten nasty." Not awaiting a response, she turned back to Gunn. "Okay, Gunn, you and I have wasted enough time. You’re gonna be in charge here, where do we set up?"
Gunn turned to Lily, who seemed to be fighting her laughter just as hard as Gunn was. He smiled at Amy, his dark eyes shining. "Follow me, Barbie."
Amy growled good-naturedly. "Bite me, Rogaine Boy. And I don’t mean that literally." They started walking, but Amy stopped and glanced over her shoulder at the shaken Rondell and Jaina. "Are you coming or not?"
"What?" Jaina asked, regaining some of her Alpha female attitude. "You want us in on this?"
"Yep. Rondell’s next in charge after Gunn, and Gunn told me you’ve got a nasty streak." She smiled. "Just like me. So if we’re gonna wipe out the vamps and maybe, just maybe, have any chance of saving your homey, we need to move. Now."
As the blonde mama started walking away, Jaina looked at Gunn. "What the Hell have you gotten us into?"
"I’m still trying to figure that out, too," he said.
Two hours later, Amy was pretty sure that Jaina and Rondell were all but shitting their pants at the sight of the firepower that the improvised combat team had brought with it. Then there was the planning session. It turned out that Jaina was the person who knew the layout of the target building. It was an old warehouse-slash-office complex, which made Amy nervous to an extent, since it might mean some room-by-room searching.
<But that’s the risks we take with the job,> she mused, keeping her mind on business. She finally laid out a final plan of attack. "Okay, I think we’re set. Let’s go over it, once more."
She pointed at the seven locations Pat Kelly had selected for sniper nests. "Lieutenant Kelly, you select which members of the Rangers and Zombies are going up there. I’d prefer the people with the best sniper skills. The main battle’s going to be UCAP."
"UCAP?" Jaina asked. "What the Hell is UCAP?"
The SWAT officer named Rodgers smiled at her. "Up Close And Personal."
"That’s how we fight!" she demanded, turning back on Amy. "And you’re telling us we can’t do this?"
"Yep," Amy said; she’d had enough of this. "Jaina, I know you’ve been fighting for eight months and you want payback for your friends who’ve died. I’ve lost friends too. But here’s the difference, plain and simple; you get close with stakes. I get close with Uzis. Who would YOU bet on against sixty vamps?"
The sullen woman just snarled but didn’t comment. "Now back to the business that we all have in common." She turned away, intent on ignoring any more outbursts from the kids, since she knew what was coming next. "Here’s what we’re going to do. Since it’s daylight outside, we’re going to do this the old fashioned way. We’re going to knock."
"Knock?" Gunn asked.
"Yep. Detective Sloan will be driving our Paco Vega Special." She felt the people who "knew" Paco Vega’s business wince. "Detective Sloan, you’re going to break the door down. I showed you where the "party favors" are, so enjoy."
"Sure will," the man chuckled.
"Good. But understand; you get to stay in the car; it’s armor plated. In the back of the van, climbing out when Sloan opens up on the dead guys, will be Lieutenant Kelly, Officers Sanchez, Ricker, and Koffman, Dan Ketch, and Detective Heart. They’re the first wave."
"Wait a minute, what’s JD doing going in with the Zombies?" Sloan snapped.
"Do you have three black belts that you didn’t tell me about?" Amy asked, dodging the question. When he sullenly said no, she closed the book on the subject. "Bingo. She’s in the first wave, you’re in the truck. Keep in mind, you’re the one covering them."
She glanced at her own friends. "Twenty seconds after Sloan opens the doors, the second wave moves in from across the street; Kendra, Blade, Arvie, Korey, Beth, Joe, and myself. Beth, your only job is ‘fire support.’ Got that?"
"Got it," the other witch said with certainty. "I’m fully charged."
"Great," Amy said; that was good. She was only at about eighty percent of her maximum level herself; the soul spells had taken a bit out of her. <I’d hate to think where I’d be now if Joan hadn’t given me the ‘booster shot…> She shook off the unpleasant thought. "Okay. When the second wave goes in, the reserves move up and take their positions on the ground. That consists of the Zombies and Rangers not on the roofs, Captain Randall, Detective Vetter, and Whistler. Detective Sloan, once we’re fully engaged, you back the truck out and join Randall’s team."
"Right," Sloan said.
"That’s the plan for the warehouse, people," she stated with finality. "We move out in twenty. Get your gear and get mounted. Gunn, you and your people stay here."
As everyone that was not with the Lost Boys left Lily’s office, Amy started rolling up the plans. She finished and glanced at Jaina. "Jaina, your info may help some of us come home tonight."
By the way the girl stiffened, Amy wondered if she was more surprised by what Amy had said or that she had made the compliment in the first place.
"You serious?" the tough girl asked.
"Deadly." Amy nodded in thanks. "Look at how messy your fight last night was, then imagine it with the machine guns and shotguns I’m going in with. I have to assume the bad guys are armed better than we are. After all, bad guys don’t suffer from budget cuts."
"No shit," Gunn agreed with a sigh. "So what do you want with us, Stick Girl?"
Amy sat down in Lily’s chair. "Do you trust these two?"
"They’ll keep quiet. So will Lily and Pablo."
"Good." Amy leaned back in the seat. "Okay, here’s the sitch; Eric, El, and Shaw are staying here with you guys. You are not to order them around, that’s Gunn’s job." She mock glared at his shit-eating grin. "Laugh it up while you can, Home Boy. I wouldn’t be leaving them here if I thought the vamps wouldn’t try something here. Besides, you’ll have your hands full trying to keep my cousin and Jaina here from killing each other."
"What, is she the one on her period?"
"As a matter of fact, she is. But let’s get serious," she said, reluctantly ending the joking between them; she had a command to run. But she savored the time spent firing barbs at Gunn. "Look, I’ve already discussed this with Shaw; she’s going to be doing some stuff here, and I don’t need anyone messing with her. It’s delicate to say the least, and throwing her off can mess her up inside. So have Lily or Alonna keep her in private while she does her thing."
"What’s she going to do?" Amy heard the renewed suspicion in Jaina’s voice.
"Ask Gunn," Amy said, pointing at the one person they both trusted. "If he thinks it’s okay, he can tell you. You have a problem with that?" She’d asked it gently to show that she meant it. When Jaina glanced at Gunn before shaking her head, Amy took it as a good sign. "Thanks. I’m out of here; Gunn, you’re in charge. Hand out the ‘party favors’ to the people who’re going to use them." She looked deep into his eyes and said, "I trust you to protect my cous… my people, Picard."
"I wi–Hey! Who you callin’ PICARD?!?"
"See ya later, Jean-Luc…" she purred. Then Amy stroked his cheek once with her slender fingers, turned, and strutted sensuously out of the office.
As the door closed, Jaina glared at Gunn. "Have you’ve been sniffing up her skirt, Gunn?!?"
He growled. "Step off, Jaina." Then he frowned. "It ain’t a big thing...nothing’s gonna come of it."
"What if it does?" Rondell asked, sounding curious rather than upset.
"Yeah, my brother! You sure nothin’s up between you and that bitch? Shit’s been known to happen...white heifers like her love to steal our men, ya dig?"
Gunn sighed. "Calista’s clone already has a man, crew. Besides, to her, I’m someone she’s helping out, not boyfriend material."
"What dickless wonder would put up with her skanky flat-assed self?" Jaina scoffed.
He just smiled at her, wondering if he should spring that little tidbit on Jaina. For some reason her attitude toward Amy bothered him so he decided to let her stew. He turned and headed out the door.
"What?" As he closed the door, he heard her shout, "WHAT?!?"
Old Warehouse
East Side
Los Angeles, California
13 December 1998 (the Wandererverse)
The vampires hustled about, gathering their weapons and preparing to pay a little ‘visit’ to the hideout of Gunn’s ragtag band of wannabee vampire hunters once the sun went down. The loose gang had been screwed over often enough and tonight, assuming the info they’d tortured out of the Lost Boy they’d captured was legit, tonight would be the last night they’d ever see any of Gunn’s gang alive.
<I think I’ll have a little fun with Gunn’s sister,> Marcus thought, fantasizing about how he’d really make Gunn suffer before offing him. <Maybe I should do the worst thing I could do to him and turn her right before his eyes.> He nodded in certainty, a sadistic smile coming to his face. <Yeah, the ultimate insult to injury; drain the babe, then turn her. And just maybe, let them get together tomorrow night. Ohhhh yeah, make him stake her before he dies. Yeah, poetic justice, asshole. You’re gonna get yours.>
Marcus glanced around the warehouse and saw his homeys. They’d been divided into two groups; one packed their weapons, like Saturday Night Specials, .22’s, and their three AK-47’s. The second group worked on the drug shipment scheduled to take place that night. The leader mused on that; once Gunn’s group was gone, they’d rule this ‘hood and begin to make plans to branch out. In the long term, he hoped to corner the drug market for at least half of L. A. <One night at a time, man. One night at a time.>
He had at least seventy-six vampires in the warehouse; according to the last arrivals, their little plan of hiring a few demons to take out that shelter they had found had gone well and it had been a lot cheaper than he’d expected. He chuckled. <Never knew demons would play hit men for crack. I wonder if that thing they told my boys about it being like Viagra for them was true. Maybe I’ll stop dealing on the streets and check into becoming a pharmacist to my demon brothers.>
He called out to his current second-in-command, who’d been "promoted" after Gunn dusted Rufus the previous night. "Yo Ricky! Come here!"
Ricky, short for Ricardo, walked over to him carrying a .357. "What is it, Marcus?"
"We about ready to move out?" he asked. "I wanna get this over with. Soon as the sun goes down, we jet over to their HQ and take out Gunn and his crew. One thing though." Ricky nodded. "Keep the boy and his sis alive. I got plans for ‘em."
"You gonna turn Gunn?" Ricky asked dubiously.
"I’m not stupid!" Marcus snapped, making Ricky step back a bit. "’Lonna, though, she might make a nice babe in my crib with the proper… ‘persuasion.’"
"I dunno… your choice, man." Ricky shrugged; no one cared what Marcus did on his own time, long as he made them lots of money. "We’ll be ready in about five minutes."
Listening in on the vampires, Amy smiled at Cody Rodgers. "Five minutes too long for them," she said.
Cody smiled back at her. "We on?"
"Oh yeah," the witch said. She pulled out a Ranger walkie-talkie and keyed it. "Bar-B-Que, this is Sabrina. FLOOR IT!"
Steve Sloan groaned at the code name JD had suggested for him during the planning session. <I’m going to kill her…> He didn’t answer the hail; he shifted the truck into gear. Without looking back, he pushed the gas pedal all the way to the floor and shouted, "Hold on people! We’re going in!"
As he expected (and dreaded), his smart-ass partner shouted in response.
"Remind me to buy you a garage door opener!"
"SHUT UP, JD!"
The first hint that something was wrong was when Marcus heard the growing roar of a car engine. The second hint was when the rolling door to his hangout was literally ripped off its mountings, sending three vamps who’d been standing guard flying toward him.
As he and his boys turned on reflex, the door slid to the ground, letting the late afternoon sunlight stream in partway. One of the vamps who’d been knocked down burst into flames, shrieking as he was roasted alive.
Marcus watched as the Tahoe that had broken through the entryway started smoking from the back. He heard doors opening and realized that someone hadn’t lost control of their ride… "It’s a raid! Take ‘em out!"
Marcus pulled out his personal .38 and sighted on the truck. <Might as well take out the driver.> He pulled the trigger but was sorely disappointed; the bullets merely ricocheted off the windshield. <What the FUCK?!?> What happened next replaced the demon’s anger with cold dread.
Steve couldn’t help himself; he reacted on human instinct and ducked when the bullets "spanged" off the windshield. However, he was a professional and recovered quickly as the back doors opened. He’d already set loose the smokescreen, so he pushed the second button and shouted, "Cutting loose!"
"Got it!" Kelly shouted, pushing the door open.
"If you goof and push the cigarette lighter I’m gonna kick your ass!" JD shouted before disembarking.
Gritting his teeth, Sloan pushed the right button and just watched the reactions on the vampires’ faces. When he saw the game face of the one who’d fired at him, he became a true believer in that second. He took a second to absorb the truth, then took satisfaction as the truck-mounted machine guns belched out metal death. He nodded happily as three vamps turned to dust and six others were sent to the ground with various wounds inflicted by the first shots fired in defense of the kids he’d met and come to admire last night.
JD watched as Danny took the bandage off his hand and started smearing blood on his face. She said, "You are gonna leave some for us, right?"
"Maybe," Dan said as his eyes started to glow.
She jumped out of the van and said, "GR’ll catch up."
"Good," Ricker noted as they and Koffman went around the driver’s side.
Pat Kelly smiled as he heard the shrieks coming from the gang bangers. He refused to think of them as vampires; they were amateurs compared to the things he’d fought in July.
He and Juan Sanchez stepped out of the smoke, gripping their Uzi 9mm’s. As soon as he sighted on a target, he brought the weapon up and double tapped, shooting one perp in the heart. He shrieked and vanished in a cloud of dust.
Juan did the same, only he put his on full automatic, spraying six vamps with an entire magazine. He only dusted one, but the other five went down screaming. Kelly winced when one of them, a vampire of all things, did something he never thought he’d hear again, outside of a battlefield; the vampire called out to its mother.
Kelly couldn’t help but hesitate. <My God, they were boys. They’re just kids.> He shook it off; they weren’t human anymore; they had to be stopped. The Immortal grimly aligned his crosshairs on another bloodsucker and fired.
Marcus watched in dread as the attack stunned his gang into inaction. He gritted his teeth in rage; they were messin’ up his plans for the ‘hood! "Waste these assholes!" he shouted before a chilling voice grabbed his attention.
[YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR CRIMES, DEMONSPAWN.] Marcus focused on the terrifying source of that death knell voice; a leather-clad skeleton with flames licking from his skull like Don King’s hair, pulling a chain off of his chest and swinging it.
He re-aimed his handgun and pulled the trigger. The bullet went through the bone man’s leather jacket, but instead of dropping like a rock, the demon didn’t even seem to notice. Instead, flames licked out of the wound like he’d just been lit with a lighter.
[PREPARE TO FACE VENGEANCE FOR THE SUFFERING YOU HAVE CAUSED.]
The Ghost Rider took in the battle before him and moved to perform his role. Unlike the early days of his symbiotic relationship with Daniel, the two now remembered what they experienced at all times. This cause, aiding the young fighters who had taken on the duty of saving their neighborhood from the soulless demons, was just. However, the Spirit of Vengeance didn’t deal in justice.
Retribution was its business.
He started whipping his chain around as the beleaguered vampires fired into him. They saw him as a greater danger than the Immortal warriors he had joined for this battle. He threw the chain forward and summoned one of the magical effects he controlled.
The links of his chain flew apart and at two vampires using what the Spirit recognized from Daniel’s mind as advanced weaponry. The links transformed into shuriken-like projectiles and tore through the pair of undead, sending their essences back to Hell.
The links returned to it and rejoined, allowing the supernatural biker to wade into the melee.
Ricker watched as Heart steadily walked forward, a strange gleam in her eyes. Rather than the heavy weaponry he and his fellow Zombies had chosen, the Detective was carrying a Remington Police Special 12 gauge shotgun loaded with a mix of shells.
They and Koffman exited the smoke and brought their weapons to bear. He and his partner started taking out vamps but JD just brought up her weapon and pulled the trigger at whichever vamp was closest. As it dusted, she efficiently selected another target, pumping a fresh shell into the chamber.
Ricker applauded the strategy; JD would take out the close vamps, covering them so they could shoot the others. He nodded in approval. <Wonder if she’d like to join the team?> He saw the Ghost Rider heading toward the clustered vampires and shouted, "What the HELL is that kid doing?!?"
JD jacked another shell into the breech and snapped, "The guy has a one-track mind when it comes to dishing out payback. Remember, he’s the Spirit of Vengeance, not the Spirit of Warm Fuzzy Hugs!"
Ricker and Koffman both said the same thing in response.
"SHUT UP, JD!"
Marcus tried to regain control of the situation but the brutal attack even had him rattled. When he saw the people walk out of the smokescreen like the dudes at the OK Corral from that movie Tombstone, he noted the looks in their eyes, a holdover from his human memories.
<OhmiGod—they’re COPS!> He gritted his teeth and snarled, his game face emerging even more as the Fuzz raided his crew like they were common dealers. "It’s the cops! Take ‘em out, dammit!"
He brought up his .38 and sighted in on the white chick carrying the shotgun. He pulled the trigger twice more. He hit her in the chest with both rounds and sent her flying to the ground. He felt a rush of excitement, but it was short lived as he felt burning Hell enter his heart seconds later. He shouted, "Fuck!" as he dissipated into dust particles, his dreams dying with him.
JD felt the impact against her chest and was sent flying to the concrete floor. It took only a moment for her brain to catch up with the fact that she didn’t feel any pain, other than her head from cracking her noggin on the cement. <Damn, this armor really works. Wonder if they’ll let me keep it.>
Steve thumbed the controls for the machine guns, turning them off so he could back out and let the second wave enter. He shifted into reverse and said over his radio, "I’m backing out! Second wave get ready!"
"Step on it!" the teenaged witch shouted.
"Women…"
The Detective pushed the pedal down as hard as he could, sending the tires smoking as they spun in place before sending him hurtling out into daylight. As he spun the wheel get back on the road, he chanced one last look at his fellow officers. To his horror, he saw JD flying back and landing on her back, hard.
"JD!" he shouted.
Before he could get out of the truck, the fighters in the second wave charged by him. He saw Madison key her radio.
"Get out of the way, Sloan! We’ll take care of her!"
It took everything Steve had to obey the order rather than return to her side. Hating himself for what he saw as the desertion of his partner, he drove off to join the reserves.
JD slowly turned over, taking in oxygen expelled from her lungs when she’d landed hard on her back. Her eyes chanced upon one of the rounds that had struck her and she recognized the make. "Shit!" She keyed the throat mike the people in the first wave had been issued. "Cop killers. I repeat, cop killers."
"Doesn’t matter," the Amazon commander’s voice snapped in real time. "Now get off your lazy ass, Heart!"
"Now look kid…" She didn’t get to finish as she was roughly hauled to her feet by a powerful grip.
She was turned around and came face-to-face with the leader of this little soiree. "Time to go hand to hand, JD. Get cracking."
"With pleasure," she said, reaching under her coat.
Ricardo saw Marcus get dusted and realized he was now in charge, or what passed for it in this chaos. He made the rapid decision to take the fight directly to the cops. "Take these bastards and DRAIN the sons o’ bitches!"
He was pleasantly surprised when some of the others actually obeyed him. They started forward even if they were being fired upon. To his utter surprise, the cops released their guns and reached under their coats, probably for side arms. "Let’s have some lunch, boys!"
Amy’s teeth started to gnash as the vamp leading the gang sounded a charge. "Typical," she muttered. She pulled out her sword, one of the extra ones Steve kept in his armory, with her left hand while reaching to her hip with the right. Her eyes widened when the leader picked up an abandoned AK-47 and brought his new toy to bear on her. Narrowing her eyes, she shouted, "Sunray!"
Her athame glowed with a rosy pink sheen for the briefest of seconds. Then the searing light spell she’d had Shaw store in the enchanted ritual tool erupted, firing a beam of pure sunlight into the vamp’s chest.
The effect of being struck broadside by concentrated sunlight was the same as usual; he erupted into flames. That caused further problems for him when, as he staggered against the back wall, his ammo started cooking off. The explosions rocked him, further adding to his wounds.
<Nice to see my little toy works,> she thought before resuming her "command persona." "Take ‘em down people! The signal is HAVOC!"
The first sign of "havoc" came in the form of Celtic flowing from Beth’s lips. Amy glimpsed the distortion of light as her force wave launched toward the vampires firing from the second level. At first Amy thought she’d missed. When the balcony started to tremble, she realized that Beth hadn’t targeted the vamps, she had tried to remove their advantage of higher ground.
<Good thinking, Beth.>
Beth started prepping a lightning bolt, deciding to strike at the vampires using the distance weapons. She felt a tingle of fear as one of the AK wielding men took aim at her boyfriend Korey. Her warning scream died in her throat when he stiffened and ducked down through an office door as bullets pinged the space vacated by him.
She turned to see Joe N’Gato, the Knight who was second in command, pulling the trigger with surprising professionalism. He showed her how aware of his surroundings he was when he didn’t even glance at her before saying, "Please feel free to continue your attack, Lady Kentraine. Amy asked me to provide suppression fire for you."
Beth smiled. "My thanks, Sir Knight." She continued her casting.
Two vampires charged JD as she pulled out her katanas. She didn’t take up a defensive stance, but rather started to showboat by doing the twirling routine they used in the movies.
<Hey, if it makes ‘em shit their pants…> she gleefully thought but jumped as two shots rang out, dusting the vamps. She snarled (as did the two voices in her head) at someone ruining her fun. "Who the Hell…"
"Stop fucking around and do your job," a terse, hard ass voice snapped.
Seeing six more vamps pulling knives, nunchuks, and other street fighter tools to engage them in combat, JD sighed. "There are enough to go around, Home Boy."
As Blade and Kendra stepped up to either side of her, Blade snarled, "Never enough vamps to waste."
"You really need a hobby, buster," she sighed.
Enrique smiled at the sight before him. <We’re vamps, man. These cops are goin’ down.> He noted the two blacks joining the lady cop and decided to taunt the big guy. "I don’t believe this. You gotta let these two little putas do your fightin’ for you?" He pulled out his butterfly knife and made a show of opening the blade. He glanced at Raiko, who before being turned had run with a Japanese gang in another neighborhood. He knew some karate or kung fu, so he figured they had a chance. "Say Raiko, which one of these hotties you want to take on?"
The Asian vampire smiled. "I’ll take the white bitch."
"Fine…" Enrique started before being interrupted by said bitch going, "tsk tsk."
"Before we get too clichéd boys, let’s think about this!" she snapped, stunning him, Raiko, and the home girl next to her. "I know you boys watch too many Hollywood fight scenes where the bad guys attack the good guys one at a time while their buddies just dance around looking menacing, but this is REAL LIFE! Use your God damned BRAINS! Bum rush us, you stupid fucks!"
Kendra stared at the woman. "What are you doing?!?"
"Watch and learn, honey," she smiled.
The Slayer was suddenly too busy to watch as the sextet charged them, bellowing in rage. Ignoring the rushing pain in her abdomen, she moved to meet the enemy.
"What the Hell was that?" Kelly asked while gutting a vampire with his blessed sword.
"JD being JD and pissing people off," the former warrior from Camelot chuckled. He stabbed a vampire through the heart and watched him dust. He took a second to examine his sword. "Nice to see that Aaron and Michael’s work doesn’t have a time limit, my friend."
"Don’t you start cracking wise. Crack skulls instead."
"That’s an acceptable alternative," Juan laughed as he lunged for another vampire. He chanced a look at the elven cousins ten feet to their right, who were fighting with a style reminiscent of the old Errol Flynn movies. "Pat, I do think our elven friends are trying to show us up."
He looked over and shouted, "Just finish them off, you showboats!"
Korendil and Arvindel didn’t respond to the Immortal’s taunts as he might have expected. Korey smiled as the one advantage no one else in the group could counter came into play.
<NOW!> the cousins shouted together.
On the telepathic cue, aided by their two centuries of experience as Sidhe warriors, Arvindel ducked so that Korey could spin and swing his elvensilver blade over the space his neck had occupied moments earlier. His enchanted sword cleaved the vampire’s neck from his shoulders. At the same time, Korendil activated a spell he’d just learned two years ago, one he’d been dying to try. He completed the phrase and gave his kin his signal to strike.
Arvindel shoved his blade through Korey and into another vampire’s heart. As magic borne of the Bright Court shattered the demon’s essence, he withdrew the blade. "I would like to have seen the actors who played my friend Porthos do that."
The minor Lord shot him a look of curiosity. "Which one? Chagnon, Siegmann, Finlay, Young, Platt in the Disney version, or Gerard Depardieu in the new Iron Mask remake with DiCaprio?"
"Stop joking around!" the Immortals shouted at them.
"I tell you, Korendil," Arvindel told him, "these humans do not appreciate the artistry of their own cinematic classics."
As the vampires rushed forward, JD shouted, "Take ‘em!"
She rushed into the two centering on her, leaving Blade and Kendra to face the others. The vampires had allowed their discipline to vanish, their demonic attributes overriding human reason. JD let them swing their weapons at her, deflecting the Jap vamp’s nunchaku while slicing at the other. <Take out the amateur first, then handle the pro. I don’t need the distraction.>
To her glee, the vamp impaled himself in the stomach. The bloodsucker screamed in agony as she jerked the blade out. Letting him fall to his knees, JD turned to face her more experienced opponent, who showed he was skilled with the wood-and-chain and seemed to have regained his composure.
"So what chop suey do you know, kid?" the Homicide Detective asked with a foxy smile. "Karate, judo…"
"I know more than you do," he taunted.
"Please. I was one of Bruce’s first students when he thought up Jeet." JD saw the understanding flare in his eyes at the reference to Lee. "I tell you, B. L. was like Lennon; died before his time. But enough small talk. Let’s dance."
The vampire obliged, swinging his weapon around in an attempt to at least pull one of her weapons out of her hand. She smiled as he played right into her trap. She let the chain wrap around one of the Fangs, but before he could use his power to rip it out of her grasp, she swung the other and with a "CLANG," the nunchuk chain snapped like wheat under a scythe.
The vamp had nary a heartbeat to realize his predicament before JD crossed her arms and brought the twin blades back across in backhanded swipes. The man’s eyes widened just the slightest before vanishing amongst the cloud of ash they transformed into.
"I hate amateurs."
Kendra drew Soulreaver and swung at the first vampire that came within reach. He ducked back, making her stumble a bit and feel greater twinges as she bent over. As the other vamp tried to capitalize on her miscue, the instincts honed by years of training and her birthright as the Slayer kicked into high gear. The Jamaican lashed out with a side kick that caught the vampire in the jaw. Then she stepped forward and snap kicked him again, sending him scrambling back. She then drew Mr. Pointy and flung him into the vampire, dusting him and allowing herself to concentrate on her remaining opponent.
Blade pulled out his titanium katana and one of his guns as the two shouting bloodsuckers ran at him. <Amateurs.>
He reached out and pulled the trigger, capping the taller gangbanger in the chest. As he vanished, the Daywalker gave ground, coming back-to-back with the Slayer, getting so close that their backsides grazed each other. Blade watched as the vamp’s eyes charged with confidence. He telegraphed his charge by tensing his legs before running forward.
Blade smiled chillingly. "CHANGE UP!"
He leaned his torso forward and felt the weight settle on him for a brief second.
On the signal, Kendra rolled backward to give the vampires another surprise. She rolled sideways along Blade’s back, lashing out with a kick that caught Blade’s opponent in the temple before settling herself. One slash of elven crafted steel later, she was absent an opponent. She noticed the remaining vampires beginning to withdraw. With their receding, she felt the intense pain subside. She allowed herself to breathe in and out in relief, hoping the others would think it fatigue from her combat rather than divining the real reason.
As Kendra’s original target attempted to strike, the dhampir from New York swung his own specialized blade. The vampire was literally disemboweled by the hard metal edge and fell to the floor, wailing pitifully.
Blade stood up and stabbed the vampire through the spine, severing his backbone and piercing his heart. As the vamp died, he instinctively looked for another opponent. The Daywalker was less than pleased to see the vampires that were left running up the stairs toward the offices.
<Shit!> Amy snarled. <They’re scattering!> She started chanting, hearing Beth do the same. There wasn’t time for precision, she wanted to take the vamps out without resorting to even closer quarters.
"Goddess Hecate, work thy will!" she shouted, letting the others know that she was going for her version of heavy "artillery." "I call upon the flames of Tarterus!"
She waved her hand and felt the flare of power that sent tingles running through her body as she channeled the energy that was her birthright. Four of the gangsta vamps burst into flame, cutting off six more who stopped halfway up, trying to keep from getting torched themselves.
Amy heard weapons open up as the cops who weren’t engaged in hand-to-hand combat took the opportunity she presented to them by her. She didn’t feel good about it, as more than a dozen vamps, all that seemed to be left after their first strike, made it through the doorway upstairs. She watched as a fusillade of silver, wood, and steel projectiles ripped the vampires in half. They would have been seriously shot up even if any of them survived the onslaught, which they didn’t.
She looked around to see if anyone else was still engaged, but saw everyone else doing the same. She didn’t take any time to feel the rush of victory, because the hard part was still ahead. She shouted, "Kelly! Sanchez! Heart! Check this level for hidden exits and block them! Kendra! Find out how many are in range and their location! I don’t want us getting bushwacked like what happened in July!"
She knew Kendra had winced at that but didn’t care; it’d make her cautious. She pulled out her own firearm to cover the others. "Everyone reload; I don’t care if you only fired one bullet, I want everyone FULL! Move!" She keyed her radio. "Friday, Sabrina. Bring up the reserves. We’re gonna go door-to-door and you people are playing doorman."
"Friday copies," Randall sighed. Amy wondered if it was that they hadn’t gotten a total victory in the first wave, or from the call sign.
<Note to self; never let JD help me with anything again…>
She glanced around again, still wired and on guard, and informed the second group she needed to update. "Guardian Angels, sitrep; vamps holed upstairs. Keep your eyes on the windows and roof and watch for party crashers. Sabrina out."
At sniper station one, Rita Morales glanced from her rifle to Ian Murphy, who scanned the building floor-by-floor with his own AWP 308 with a precision scope fresh out of the box. "I wonder how many they bagged."
"Not enough," he said without looking up. "Not from their point of view if they have to go upstairs."
Rita couldn’t help but agree.
Bob Devlin turned as Steve Sloan rushed up to the reserves. "She’s fine, Sloan. That body armor is sweet."
"I heard her say they’re using armor piercing," he said, still worried about his partner.
Devlin cocked an eyebrow. "My friend, this stuff stands up to armor piercing in .50 caliber, let alone what they’re hitting us with. But it doesn’t stop head shots."
"Right," Sloan said, reminding himself not to get too cocky. "So now what?"
"Simple," the SWAT man said, "we keep the bad guys from getting out."
Amy walked around, checking her people. <Damn, I wish it could have gone easily. But that’s why you prepare for the worst. At least it’s not the Forum; me planning an assault on that place would be SO not fun.> She came up to Kelly, who was checking the sacks of white powder the vamps had been working on. She gritted her teeth as several pieces of the proverbial puzzle began to take shape. "Lieutenant, please tell me Gunn’s people aren’t dying for drugs. Please tell me that."
For the first time all day, Kelly was reminded that despite everything, this hard-ass warrior was still a kid, even if she’d helped save the world God knew how many times.
"I know, Amy," he sighed. "Taking over the world is one thing, but wiping out Gunn’s kids for money… it makes me sick."
"Me too," she confessed.
Kendra walked over to Amy and the Zombie officer. She saw the drugs and although she’d had what would be considered a sheltered upbringing, she now knew what the battle was all about.
"Amy?" she asked, drawing the angry witch’s gaze. "There are fifteen vampires left, all upstairs. I cannot feel any more, not within range."
She eyed her curiously. "Is the spell still active."
Kendra barely succeeded in maintaining her professional visage. "Yes. I would inform you if it were not."
"Point taken," Amy said with a small smile. "Okay, good work." Kendra felt a rush of uncustomary pride at the compliment. "I want you to hang back when we go up after them."
"What? But I am the Slayer…"
"Whoa. Hold it right there, sister," Amy told her, holding up a hand to prevent an argument. "Kendra, the plan was to take them all out. We didn’t do it. We might, emphasis on might, have them trapped. But this is not your typical patrol; now we have to rely on police tactics. I’m not going to risk you up there."
"It is my birthright to take such risks, Amy," Kendra announced regally. "You may be in charge of the team, however you would do well to remember you are not my Watcher and shall not deter me from my sacred duty!"
Amy’s eyes widened at the Slayer’s harsh tone. She almost began to argue with Kendra, but thought better of it when she realized it probably was not conducive to her longevity to get in the face of a woman who could bench press a Harley Davidson motorcycle. She tried another tactic. "Kendra, we need you to guard the Hellmouth. I just didn’t want to risk you unnecessarily in an encounter far away from home."
That seemed to calm the mahogany-skinned Slayer somewhat. "What about you?" the Chosen One asked defiantly.
"Beth and I will be needed to protect the officers. They have experience with this sort of thing, and we have the magic to give them an advantage. Besides, I’m taking Ghost Rider and Blade up with us; they’re used to close quarters fighting. Without them, that leaves you and the elves to protect the others, if their friends from the other lair show up. They’re going to need you down here, just like they needed you at the Forum. They don’t know Blade, but they know you, Kendra." She smiled again, showing her own affection for her. "And I know you won’t let them down."
Despite her longing to do her duty in the way she was supposed to, she nodded; the Immortals had advantages they didn’t. "I will do my best."
JD finished her inspection of the wall, finding no hidden doors. She glanced over and saw the guard forces at the door. She saw Steve glancing in, trying to make sure she was all right. <Awwww.> She answered his concern by sticking out her tongue. She chuckled at his look of "why did I bother?"
Before she could key the radio to rub it in, the Amazon with attitude called them together.
As the members of the two battle groups converged, Amy glanced over at Ghost Rider, who was in the process of changing back into Daniel. They’d agreed that if there was a lull in the fighting, he and the Spirit would change places since the latter being tended to ignore battle plans. If it was put into context that Dan understood, then he might follow a strategic approach.
"Okay," she said, keeping her voice low enough that the vamps hopefully wouldn’t hear them upstairs, "here’s the plan. We have to go in after them. There aren’t any exits except the windows and the roof. Time’s working against us because the sun’s going down as we speak. So we can’t let them make a break for it. One team will go up after them, the rest of you will stay down here. You’ll act as the swing reserve; if we need support, you’ll come up after us. If the teams outside encounter any trouble, help them. Understood?" Everyone nodded and Amy smiled. "Good. The teams going up will be in threes. Alpha team will be Ghost Rider, Kelly, and Sanchez. Beta is Ricker, Koffman, and Heart. Gamma team is me, Beth, and Blade. Joe, you will command the forces down here."
"Understood," Joe assured her.
"Let’s move, people," she said, sheathing her sword but still fingering her ritual blade. She used the other hand to pull out her Glock. "Kelly, you and Sanchez take up some of the grenades."
"Which ones?" Juan asked.
Amy took all of five seconds to consider it. "Take three holy waters, one acid spray, and one white phosphorous each.
The Willy Peters are a LAST resort, guys. Don’t go overkill on me." She cracked a grin at their disappointed looks.
<Men.> "Kelly, I for one do NOT like the smell of napalm in the morning. So there." She turned to Beth. "How
strong would your shielding spells be, Beth?"
"Within ninety-five percent of yours, if not closer," the
curly-topped Wicca replied. "They’ll hold against anything the boys throw."
"Good," she said seriously. "Let’s get moving. Lock and load people! I want our targets dusted by sundown."
She chambered a round in her Glock and waited for alpha team to take the lead.
East Side Teen Shelter
Los Angeles, California (the Wandererverse)
13 December 1998
Rondell felt something… change in the air. He couldn’t tell what it was, but for some reason it felt… <Okay. It feels cool.>
As he tried to figure out what it was that was giving him that feeling, Jaina came in, looking as puzzled as he was. "You feel that?"
"Yeah. Hey bro!" he shouted, catching Gunn’s attention. "You feelin’ that?"
Gunn nodded but just smiled again, like he knew something was up but wasn’t going to share with his homeys. "Yeah, I was wonderin’ how long it’d take Hunter to get finished."
"Finished with what?"
"Sorry. It’s a secret."
Gunn couldn’t help himself; he enjoyed dishing "the treatment" for a change. His crew had been willing to believe in witches and elves, but what was happening now was still hard for him to believe, mostly because despite his checkered past, one thing he’d never done was diss the Church. Mama had been big on that. He might not go every Sunday, but he still made sure to pray once in awhile.
<And to find out all those Gods people worshipped back in the day are real, hoo boy…> He decided to check on Hunter and Lily to make sure they were all right. Madison had warned him that the mojo she was working might tucker her out. <And she told me on the q. t. to make sure she’s got enough juice to play healer. So that’s what I’m gonna do.>
He walked out of the office, checking in with his pals as they kept an eye on the people that came into the shelter for the night. He walked to the second floor and entered the room where the wounded were recovering from last night’s rumble.
He smiled as he saw Alonna already checking on them, but noted the Hunter chick was doing the same. The diff was, she was looking them over like a doc would. "Hey, Hunter," he called out, catching her attention. She looked a lot different than she had earlier; instead of the suburb casual wardrobe, she was all business; body armor and her hair pulled into a ponytail. Provided that her business was playing a Brit-Patty Duke-Stick Figure-Barbie-Rambo babe. "What’re you doing?"
"Checking your friends’ injuries," she said, sounding totally professional. As she examined Tommy’s shoulder, which had been wrenched pretty good by a vamp a week ago, he looked at her suspiciously. She sighed, "Not that they are making it easy."
Gunn shrugged. "We’re not used to strangers."
"Especially rich white bitches showing up outta nowhere," Tommy added sarcastically.
"White?" Gunn repeated, arching an eyebrow at her. "You’re calling her a rich white bitch?"
"I can be a bitch, Gunn," Hunter said jokingly, wiping her hands on her legs. "His shoulder was not separated. None of your friends require additional aid on my part. Whoever handles your needs in this manner is quite proficient."
"Thanks," Lily said from the back end of the room. Gunn smiled; she and Alonna seemed to get along with the elf girl, who just nodded in return.
"Yeah, I’m sure you get that from your cuz," the Lost Boy leader said with a grin. "You didn’t tell any of my crew, huh?"
"Not outside of Alonna and those who already know."
"Gunn, my man, what’s ‘Miss Ann’ doing here?" Tommy asked. Luis, Rashaan, and Elisa echoed his sentiments. Rashaan snapped, "Is this the white broad Jaina says you’re all but banging?"
Gunn started to bark that it wasn’t any of their business in the first place, but the Vulcan Barbie’s eyes went hard as she turned and marched over toward him.
"Whoa, Hunter! Hold on!"
Shaw ignored Gunn and stalked straight over to the dark-skinned human, whose only wound consisted of a nasty bruise on his head. He started to shrink away from the glare emanating from her eyes, but she stopped short, freezing him with that look.
She raised her voice so that all the Lost Boys in the makeshift infirmary could hear her speak. "I am going to say this once, and once only. Your leader Gunn can vouch for my sincerity, so if you do not believe me, believe him when he confirms what I am about to tell you." She focused on the one called Rashaan, who tried to match her gaze. She could see the pride in himself and his friends, and she approved. <But they do not need to know that yet.> "I will make this short and sweet. First of all, I am not the woman Gunn has been flirting with, if you can even call his fumbling flirting."
"Hey!" Gunn snapped.
She didn’t move her eyes. "As for that, I will brook no insults about my cousin, who at this moment is leading the assault against the vampires you have been fighting. So I will thank you to shut the Hell up before criticizing her while she fights your battles while you sit on your collective asses ‘suffering’ from wounds that I would have shrugged off and rejoined the battle myself!" She settled down and backed away from the bedridden man, taking in the glances of everyone in the room. "Now as for me, yes, I can be a bitch. I do not deny it, for I am quite good at it." Some uneasy laughs from the women answered that declaration. "But as for being rich and white, let me set the record straight. Yes, my father was white, as were the grandparents who raised me after he died. They were Scottish. My mother, however, according to my birth records, was one-quarter Native American. As for being rich… yes, I have money. You get a fair amount of money when your father’s military life insurance policy is cashed in." She let her glare settle on Tommy. "I think everyone here is at least intelligent enough to know how that came about. However, two hundred thousand dollars is not, in my opinion, a fair exchange for my parents’ lives. As for my grandparents, they were killed by vampires, like many of your friends. The difference was, they were all I had left before I found Amy. You at least have each other. So do not complain about rich white bitches showing up out of nowhere to handle your vampire problem." She faced the Hispanic woman this time. "Be glad for rich biracial Special Forces bitches who still kick vampire ass after losing their entire families to things that you could not even imagine."
She turned around and started to walk out, but stopped when she reached the door. "By the way, as the only family I have left is currently too busy saving your lazy asses right now, I will say this on her behalf…you’re welcome."
She walked out and left the door wide open.
Gunn just shook his head. "I knew having an elf on her period was gonna be trouble. Girl needs to learn how to do Cliff’s Notes."
Alonna walked up to her and rubbed his shoulder. "You know what she did right?"
He looked up at her and smirked. "Something about making the shelter like a church or something?"
Alonna shook her head. "She told us she went one step further. She consecrated everything in a two hundred foot circle around us."
"What’s the difference?"
"I’m not totally sure, but she says that ‘regular’ holy ground would be like Church or a cemetery." She shrugged, showing Gunn she didn’t understand it herself. "She said the shelter’s beyond that. She said something about it being more like Mount Sinai in the Ten Commandments. It’s ‘special’ to her God or something."
"I hope she don’t expect us to pray to her Boss," Gunn said, only half jokingly.
"No. Now stop making fun and see if anyone needs your help," she said with a smile. "We’re cool here."
Gunn stood up and glanced at his homies again, wanting to be sure that they were okay. "Don’t worry guys, we’re gonna take care of it."
He turned and walked out, leaving Lily and Alonna to care for the kids.
Rondell’s sixth sense, that sense the usually alerted him to trouble, kicked in as the dark blue SUV with the tinted windows drove by. He forced himself to stay seated on the steps leading to the doorway; this was the second time they’d driven by. And tinted windows, in this hood, meant one of two things; a drive-by, or Undead Americans scooping out a location.
Soon as the Ford turned the corner, he stood up and backed up the stairs, looking in both directions to see if any more vamps were checking him out. Seeing none, he backed in.
"Gunn!" Jaina shouted. Jerking his head around, he found her rushing up to him. She spared a hard glance at El and Hunter before telling him, "Rondell says we’re gonna have company."
"In broad daylight?" Elf Rocker asked, sounding serious.
"Yeah, Spock, in broad daylight!" she snapped. "They’re toolin’ around in a truck with tinted windows."
Gunn nodded. "Good work. Pass the word and tell the ones that’re packing to get ready. And not to play games with the guns!"
Jaina nodded once and ran off. Gunn turned back to the others. "You wanna tell Kenny G we’re ready to rock and roll?"
"I’ll do it," Eldenor said, drawing his sword as he left.
<Better to be ready now,> Gunn decided. He turned to Shaw. "You ready?" He could see the hesitance in her eyes, but she nodded. "Good. Let’s move." <Guess we get to see how well Unicorn Girl’s and Michael Bolton’s magic works together.>
Rondell just casually leaned against the wall, pretending to chat with the elf that doubled as a punk rocker. Sure enough, the truck turned back onto their street two blocks away. "Here they come."
El, as he told the crew to call him, idly turned and watched the SUV approach. He had to notice, just as Rondell did, that the bloodsuckers had waited ‘til the street was all but empty. And as was usual gang custom, they tooled along nice and slow, making sure there were no witnesses.
<Waitin’ ‘til we’re all here…> he thought with a shudder.
"I knew something like this would happen…" El snarled. Before he could ask, the elf guy turned back to him. "They’re not vampires. They are demons."
"Damn!" he hissed. He stepped back up to the door and knocked. The door cracked open and he snapped, "Demons! Demons!"
"FUCK!" Jaina’s voice said from inside. The door slammed shut.
Jaina started cussing up a storm. She called out to the boss. "Rondell says they’re demons, Gunn!"
"Shit!" He looked to the Barbie babe’s cousin, the one her cousin Tommy said was mixed race like some of the Boys. He asked her, "NOW what do we do, Hunter?"
The girl who was supposed to be a medic frowned in concentration. "The plan does not change. We eliminate them."
"Girl, these are demons!" she snapped. "What makes you think we can el-liiim-I-naaate them?!?"
"The metal rounds are blessed by my guardian. He is a Catholic priest." She flashed Jaina a look that dared her to say a word about that. "And they are military armor-piercers. Any other stupid questions?"
"Vamps can stand up to bullets!" Tommy said; the chewing out the half-white girl had laid on the others had pulled them out of bed. <No way we’re gonna let these rich chicks show us up! This is our fight!>
The armored honey sent a tired glance Jaina’s way. "What part of blessed does he not understand?"
Jaina couldn’t help but agree on that. "He’s a guy. They’re born stupid."
She nodded and turned to Gunn. "Are the gunners in place?"
"Yep," Gunn said with pride. Jaina felt her chest puff up; the way he said things about them just made them proud to be part of the family. "We’re ready. You and Jaina head out the back, Bard Boy goes out the front."
"WHAT? What’s going on here?" Jaina demanded.
It was Barbie II who answered her. "Gunn told me that you use the heavy weapons in your group."
"Yeah Sweetie, I pack a flamethrower. What’s it to you?"
"I have something better," she hinted with a wink. "But if you are not woman enough…"
"That’s IT! Let’s go white bread!" Jaina shouted, heading toward the back door.
Gunn shared a glance with Hunter. <Sometimes it’s just too easy.>
Eldenor and Rondell turned as the Bard exited the shelter and leaned against the back door. "None too soon, Bard," he said with a smile.
"Just finished the wards protecting the ground under the shelter," Sir Banyon said, looking just the tiniest bit fatigued. "But the wards and blessings are all in place. Vampires will not enter this place anytime soon."
Eldenor nodded once and turned to Rondell. "Allow me one chance, my friend. If it fails, we do what must be done."
"Since when are we friends?" Rondell asked.
"A friend of mine once said, ‘it is better to die in the company of friends, than to die alone.’ I’d prefer thinking I’m dying with friends if my time comes today."
"Well, I’d prefer living," the man shot back.
"That works as well," the Knight of Elfhame Sun-Descending agreed with a chuckle. "Showtime."
The truck stopped in the middle of the street, blocking any traffic that might come their way. The doors opened and five demons stepped out. They had yellow-green skin and spines on their heads that reminded Eldenor of the stegosaurus he had seen on Jurassic Park. He moved forward, drawing his sword from behind his back as he walked down the steps to the sidewalk.
As he’d hoped, the demons hesitated at the sight of what they thought was a punk rocker carrying a blade of this type. He stopped and gripped the pommel with both hands, letting the sword tip rest on the ground. He concentrated for a second and allowed the glamour that gave him a human appearance to vanish, showing the Hellish creatures exactly who they faced.
"Gentlemen, I know why you are here," he said, his voice proud and clear. "And I will offer you one chance to withdraw. This place is under my and my allies’ protection. It is sacred ground, consecrated to the Goddess Mielikki. You are not welcome here."
"Who are you, elf Knight?" the demon in the lead asked, sounding quite certain to Eldenor that he wouldn’t last long against the five of them.
Eldenor stood up straight, bringing his sword up to a guard position. "I am Eldenor, Master Warrior, Knight of the Seleighe Court, and Regent of Elfhame Sun-Descending, serving the Lord Dharinel in his absence." He smirked. "Or the man who’s going to help kick your asses if you don’t scram this instant."
"You and what army, asshole?" the demon asked.
Eldenor just smiled.
"You just gotta love that opening," Eric laughed, pulling out his flute.
The kid Rondell actually laughed. "Word, brother." Eric brought the flute to his lips to start a one-way shielding spell as Rondell brought up his Beretta and pulled the slide back, one in a chorus of many slides being pulled back.
It certainly got the demons’ attention.
The five demons started glancing around as their targets started popping up out from behind walls and out of doorways on both sides of the street. The suckers didn’t seemed too phased, but then again they didn’t know what the Boys were packing.
Gunn stepped outside and folded his arms. "Now what’s a bunch of ugly suckers like you doing in a nice ‘hood like this?"
The demon playing the mouthpiece snarled, "We were hired to take you out, punk. We’re getting paid pretty well to shut you down."
"Now see, that’s what I don’t understand," the man said. He shrugged like he was confused. "What’ve we done to the suckers that the vamps gotta send Barney’s ugly redneck cousins after me?" He stared them down, showing the quiet bravery that had united a neighborhood against those who’d tried to take it. "You got one chance, home boys. Book and don’t come back. The vamps are going down."
"One elf isn’t going to stop us," the demon snarled, his buds doing the same. "Nor are those guns." He looked back at his posse. "Let’s take ‘em!"
"Shit," Gunn hissed, pulling out the gun he’d had stashed in his waistband. "’Lonna, lock it up!"
He didn’t wait for an answer, bringing his Daddy’s old .45 and pulling the trigger, joining somewhat late in the crossfire that somehow sounded distant compared to the music being played fast and furious by Music Man next to him.
Eric began playing Ride of the Valkyries, somehow sensing that it was the right piece for combining a shield that would let bullets pass through their side, but not the other, with a courage spell to boost the spirits of the kids on both sides. It was a delicate balancing act, estimating where he had to raise the shields on both sides of the demons.
He kept on playing as he’d been taught, letting nothing distract him; the sounds of bullets being fired, brass casings ringing as they hit the stairway, missed bullets spanging off his force fields, and certainly not the demons’ screams.
The bard did his part, protecting the kids while they unloaded on the demons in defense of their friends and family.
Gunn winced but didn’t stop pulling the trigger. The demons were staggering but not going down. He knew the wooden bullets weren’t hurting them, but he couldn’t stop to take them out. The cop killers provided by the fighters worked as advertised, to an extent. They made the demons stumble but not die.
<Go DOWN dammit!> he shouted in his mind, dropping a magazine and slapping in a replacement. "Dammit, they’re not going down!"
As if to prove him wrong, one of the spiny suckers did fall, followed by a second, moments later. The other three began to stumble back to their SUV, which had taken hits as well.
One by one, under the unyielding wall of flying ammunition, the three demons tried to make their escape. The truck lurched and moved forward, taking even more rounds.
Before they went fifty feet, another burst of rounds, from a different gun, joined the fun. What happened next was unbelievable.
The demons couldn’t believe what they’d walked into. Their leader, driving the truck, snarled, "We’re gonna hightail it out of town and heal. When we get back, we’re gonna take care of business!"
"Those kids will be waiting for us again!" his brother bleated.
"I’m talking about the SHITHEADS WHO HIRED US, YOU MORON!!! SCREW those kids!"
Any further problems were forever silenced as his world suddenly exploded.
"HOLY SHIT!" Gunn and Rondell shouted together as the Explorer exploded in a ball of flame. As the Lost Boys and their allies tried to clear their ears and eyes, Gunn watched as the column of flame and falling, twisted metal created a montage of destruction. A single, flaming tire rolled by them, the only "complete" piece of the demons’ truck remaining.
"Did we do that?" Rondell asked as the crew assigned to the other side of the street began moving out from hiding, covering the two wounded demons.
<Good people. Don’t just kill ‘em in cold blood. We’re not the vamps,> he thought, once again feeling the pride in his posse. "Must’ve hit the gas tank or something, Rondell."
"You wish," that familiar, sarcastic voice came from down the street.
Gunn and the others turned to see Jaina and Hunter walking toward them, both hauling big guns. Jaina was grinning like a schoolgirl, but Hunter had a literal death grip on her rifle. After getting over the shock of seeing these two actually not sniping at each other, he put two and two together. He recognized the M-16 Hunter was carrying, but Jaina’s…
"What the Hell is that thing?!?" he asked in dread. He suddenly remembered Hunter’s comments about "heavy" weapons and moaned. <WOMEN!>
"Gunn dude, this thing is SWEET! You see what I did to those dino-rejects? BAM!!!"
<My God, she sounds like a little girl at Christmas!> he moaned. <Great. She’s gonna want me to get her one of those… whatever they are!> "What the Hell IS that thing, Jaina?"
She shrugged, too giddy to answer questions. "Ask Patty Duke here. All I know is, it works." She glanced back at the final destruction she’d wrought. "Damn, we’re good."
"Hunter?" Gunn said, rubbing the bridge of his nose while his crew, the elf, and music man all started laughing at Jaina’s attitude. "What...the Hell...IS THAT THING?"
Shaw shrugged. "Just your typical Heckler & Koch forty millimeter grenade launcher, equipped with collapsible stock and pistol grip. Very nice weapon."
Gunn knew Rondell was looking at him. "And she’s the MEDIC?"
"Yep." He moaned and made himself a solemn oath. <I’m gonna kill Barbie Girl for sticking me with her cousin… I swear to God, I will kill her…>
Old Warehouse
East Side
Los Angeles, California (the Wandererverse)
13 December 1998
"Clear!" Kelly voiced through his throat mike, hoping the vampires he knew were still in the office areas wouldn’t hear him and figure out his location. "Repeat, rooms one and two are clear!"
"Understood," Amy’s voice came through before giving out orders. "Beta team, move up to Alpha’s position. Alpha, prepare to move forward."
Kelly smiled tightly. <Like we haven’t done this before.> He kept the remark to himself. "Alpha copies. Out." He shot a look at the flaming heap of bones next to him. "Ghost Rider." He suppressed a chill as the skeleton impassively stared at him. "Can you detect any of the vampires like the Slayer can?"
[I CAN FEEL DEMONSPAWNS SOMEWHERE BEFORE US.] it answered. [WE WILL ELIMINATE THEM AND AVENGE THOSE THEY HAVE MURDERED.]
"That’s the idea, but remember, we’re supposed to do so with a minimum of casualties to our side."
[UNDERSTOOD.] The demon turned its attention back to "looking" for vampires to eliminate.
<Heart and Ketch told us, one-track minds…> the Zombie commander sighed. He glanced at Sanchez. "You ready, Juan?"
Sanchez nodded as the trio heard the shuffle of feet behind them. Kelly glanced back and saw his two partners, plus Heart, coming up with weapons drawn.
JD knelt next to him and said, "Well Kelly, any luck with the hide and seek?"
"Don’t start, Detective," he snarled. "Watch our backs and don’t mess around."
"Watch your backsides," Heart nodded, pretending to be serious. "Got it."
Kelly growled. "Good."
As he, Sanchez, and Ghost Rider started forward again, Heart "whispered," "Nope. Definitely not as tight as Steve’s."
<I’m going to kill her when this is over…> Kelly moaned.
In the rear area of the warehouse, the remaining vampires tried to figure out what in the name of Satan was going on. One vampire, Julio, had taken command by default, mostly because he was the only one who had his head on halfway straight after the cops assaulted their hangout and took out three-quarters of their boys.
"It ain’t Gunn, you idiots!" he shouted for the seventh time, smacking a panicky vampire on the back of the head. He picked up the group’s remaining AK and snapped, "Next one who says it gets kneecapped!"
That brought the panic down to a series of low, fearful murmurs. <I’ll take that as a good sign.> He nodded once and snapped, "Now look! The cops’re gonna be coming after us. We need to take the initiative and figure a way out of here."
"And just how do we do that, smartass?!?" one of the newer vamps pissed and moaned. "Just walk up and ask ‘em to let us go?"
"No, asshole!" Julio shouted. He glanced at the Lost Boy named Rico, who they’d caught last night. The kid was tied to a chair, battered and bruised. "You forget, we got ourselves a hostage."
"I don’t think those were hostage negotiators!"
Julio rolled his eyes and slammed the stock of the –47 into the vamp’s jaw. As the vamp staggered back, he jumped in his face. "And we’re gonna have more hostages, shitbag! They’re gonna have teams coming up after us. We’re gonna bum rush ‘em and grab a couple of ‘em! We’ll hold ‘em ‘til sundown and when the cops lay off, we get out of here."
"You gotta be kidding," another said with displeasure.
Julio pointed the rifle at the doubter. "Do I look like I’m kidding?" he snarled dangerously. "Here’s what we’re going to do…"
The self-appointed leader laid out a hasty plan of attack to hit and run on the lead cops, taking them and holding them until they could get the Fuzz to back off and let them leave. It wasn’t much, but it offered more than sitting and waiting for the cops to come to them.
"Okay, let’s move," he said, indicating the eleven vamps who would charge the cops en masse, hoping to overwhelm them by sheer numbers. "We’ll be covering you with our guns. Let’s save our asses."
The rushers reluctantly moved out, heading to their attack points in order to set up for the appearance of the SWAT team that’d come to slaughter them. As soon as they were out of sight, Julio glanced at his three fellow drug dealers, the smart ones who’d been with the gang the longest.
"We really gonna cover them?" Sammy asked dubiously.
"Long enough to get the cops’ attention," he replied. He pointed to their hostage. "Grab the punk and bring him with us. When the estupidos attack, we’ll fire a few rounds and maybe take a couple cops out. While they’re throwing down, we drop the trash and make tracks."
"Just how are we supposed to get away, Julio?" one of his confederates asked. "We’re on the second floor, remember? We’d have to go through the cops on this floor and the ground! And I’m not stupid enough not to think they don’t have snipers set up all over the place. You think about that?"
"Damn straight," Julio grinned. He walked over to the desk that had been Marcus’ and ripped open a locked drawer. He pulled out some kind of magic charm and smiled triumphantly. "See this? Marcus bought it off some witch doctor type for an emergency like this. Let’s just say I’m nosy when it comes to my good health. Marcus had this fixed so that if we had a ‘Red Alert’ type situation, all he had to do was say some fancy word, and everyone inside twenty feet’d be beamed out somewhere else. It’s only got a five-mile range, but it’s enough to get us outta here. Of course I listened in and figured it out. So we got a way out."
"So we’re gonna bail on the others and start over?"
Julio gave the other demon a glare. "You got a problem with that?" When that one shook his head, Julio settled down. "Good. As for starting over, yeah, I figure we need to bail somewhere else. Not San Fran, I hear the brothers have been getting wasted there too. But San Diego, maybe Tijuana…"
The others nodded and Julio smiled. <Not a problem.> "Okay. Let’s go ‘support’ our homeys. Bring the Lost Boy."
<I’m getting a bad feeling about this…> Kelly thought. He gripped the handle of his Uzi tighter. He glanced at Ghost Rider. "How far?"
In response the Spirit of Vengeance just pulled his chain and started twirling it.
"SHIT!" Kelly shouted, bringing his weapon to bear just as the first bestial roars sounded. Office windows and doors shattered and flew apart as a bunch of vampires sprung their trap. Kelly saw four come into view at the end of the hallway, one carrying an AK-47 and another holding a bloody kid in front of him like a human shield. Kelly shouted, "They have a hostage! Go hand to hand!"
Ghost Rider did just that, wading into the charging vampires and beating them aside, using pure savage instincts and power rather than any skill.
<He’s going for the kid.> Kelly grimaced as he pulled his sword, hearing Sanchez’s blade sliding free of its scabbard as well. Some of the vamps the Spirit had knocked aside recovered and set their sights on the Zombies. Kelly considered the closed quarters and idly said, "This is not good, Juan."
"Really, Pat?" Juan observed sarcastically. "You could’ve fooled me."
The former Knight charged forward, surprising the vampires. Kelly hoped the distraction would last long enough to allow their backup to join in on the "fun."
JD heard the call over the line and muttered, "Shit!"
"Right word for the occasion," Koffman said, pulling out his blade. "Let’s go!" As Beta team started moving, Koffman called Charlie. "Sabrina, this is Zombie 4. Alpha’s been ambushed, moving to engage."
"We’re moving up as well. Hurry."
Amy grabbed Blade’s hand before he could charge off to join the fight. "Hold up, Blade." She quickly chanted a spell and Blade’s skin started to change. It became slate gray in appearance and took on the consistency of rock. She smiled at him. "Stoneskin spell. Makes you totally immune to the first seven to ten attacks that hit you."
Blade cracked a grin. "Good thinking."
"Let’s move."
Kelly and Sanchez split apart when it became clear that the vampires meant to bum rush them. Ghost Rider had four vamps hanging on him, but he steadfastly moved on, barely staggering under seven hundred pounds of bloodsucking corpses.
Kelly stabbed another vamp but it left him open for two more to pounce on him. As he was driven to the floor, vampires throwing blows to his skull, he heard more blades being drawn. Before he could take satisfaction in that, he heard shots ringing out from a rifle. <Shit!>
One voice told her to save her fellow cops, while the other said to leave them to their own devices and take out the leaders. JD told them both to shut up and let her do her own thing.
Heart drew her katanas and decided on a course of action amid the chaos that reigned in the hallway. She saw one of the vamps bringing up his AK-47 and aiming it at Ghost Rider’s head. Not knowing if the Spirit could survive a bullet in whatever passed for his brain-housing, she charged forward, shouting at the top of her lungs. <You’re gonna OWE me big time, youngster…>
Her tactic worked; he adjusted his aim and pulled the trigger. The first bullet bounced off her chest plate, stopping her dead in her tracks. She then took the second bullet higher up, remembering too late that such rifles tended to buck when fired on auto. The third and fourth bullets smacked through her face, sending blood splattering all over her teammates.
As the two pains in her ass groaned something along the lines of "Served you right, Dumb Ass!" she felt her consciousness blinking out as she shoved off another life. <I’m gonna kick somebody’s ass for this… that’ll make me feel better…>
Julio smothered any satisfaction at capping the lady cop. He had other problems, specifically a six-foot tall, skeletal biker dude on his ass. He glanced at the homey holding up the Lost Boy. "Drop him!"
The other gladly did so. Julio pointed the gun at the kid’s head and shouted, "Your choice, Bonehead! Take us on or save the kid. What’s it gonna be?"
[YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR CRIMES, DEMONSPAWN,] the Harley Guy Flambé told him.
"Yeah, yeah, you take one more step, we shoot the kid. You want his blood on your hands?" Julio realized that this demon or whatever it was had a hard on for cracking skulls other than his own. <Ha, ha, homey.> "We’re leaving. Have fun with the others." He smiled and slowly backed up, keeping the gun pointed at the tortured kid.
Ghost Rider stopped and allowed the vampires to leave; he could sense the boy lying before him was innocent, at least as humans reckoned things these days. As the gun-wielding vampires backed out of sight, he turned and moved to aid his comrades, hearing Daniel’s faint voice muttering something about one-track minds.
Amy saw the scene from behind Blade as she and Beth joined the melee. The Zombies were holding their own against the vamps, but JD lay on the floor, a spreading pool of blood soaking the floor and her blonde hair.
<Oh my Goddess…> Amy nearly gagged. She eyed the remaining vampires with anger and felt her eyes change to ebon. She brought her hands up and shouted, "Goddess Hecate, to you I pray! Smite my foes with Zeus’ holy wrath!"
Amy held her hands out at her sides, palms flat and facing the vampires. She felt the tingling sensation that brought to mind touching a doorknob after walking across a carpet. She felt the ionization a split second before her hands were sheathed in a nimbus of electricity. Amy knew she was going to pay dearly for this; this spell was at the outermost limits of her skill, let alone her control, but this situation called for surgical precision, not the bloody carnage that a simple fireball would cause. She only hoped that she could maintain control long enough to settle this.
Two bolts of lightning, one emitting from each hand, wrapped around her arms and journeyed upward to encircle her torso. The witch gritted her teeth, feeling the building power making her tremble. Suddenly, the power building inside of her flew out in a rush, shooting off a massive bolt of lightning that emanated from her chest, between her breasts. The bolt shot into a vampire, enveloping him in a corona of pure electricity and frying him. The bolt then bounced off and shot into another vamp, a bit smaller but still enough to send his essence back to Hell. The bolt, again diminished by about ten percent, fired in another direction, hitting yet another bloodsucker.
The procedure repeated ten times, taking out all but one vampire, who had dropped to the floor when the first bolt erupted from Amy’s body. However, Ghost Rider grabbed the remaining demon by his shirt and brought him eyeball to eyeball… <Okay,> she thought dully, <eyeball to eye sockets. Whatever…>
Amy looked down at her armor, which had been broken open at the point of the chain lightning’s origin. Her shirt had also been ripped apart, showing off a generous amount of skin. <Somehow, I’m too pooped to give a damn.>
She started to stumble but was caught by Beth and Blade. The latter growled, "Thanks for ruining the fun."
She rolled her eyes as much as she could at this juncture. "If I didn’t know you better from last time we met, I’d swear you were making a joke. But don’t complain; I saved you one."
"Rider’s taking care of that."
"Ohshitohshitohshit…"
[YOU WILL PAY FOR THE SUFFERING YOU HAVE CAUSED.] The Ghost Rider felt some satisfaction; at least one of the vampires was going to feel the suffering he had caused others. He allowed the magical form of retribution that was his to give flow through him. [FEEL MY PENANCE STARE AND KNOW THE SUFFERING YOU HAVE CAUSED.]
Ghost Rider felt the vampire’s eyes lock onto the empty holes he saw through. He felt the power of his Penance Stare make the connection and begin bringing forth the power needed to make this vampire suffer. The vamp’s eyes widened but his words were choked off as the totality of the suffering he had caused his victims rushed forward and claimed him.
The Spirit of Vengeance uncaringly held onto the vampire as he let out an unholy scream. Once he was sure the demon spawn was sufficiently punished, he dropped the undead being and looked around. Seeing no further vampires, he glanced at the leader of this group, the brave and bold Amazon witch, who looked almost as exhausted as the Immortals before him.
[THERE ARE FOUR MORE FURTHER INTO THIS COMPLEX. I ALLOWED THEM TO LEAVE RATHER THAN LET THE BOY DIE. I SHALL GO AFTER THEM.]
The girl, Amy, shot a look at the Daywalker, one of his occasional companions. "Go with him and take them out. No fancy shit, no tricks." She glared back at him. "And no Penance Stares. Kill them."
"Now you’re talking my language," Blade said emotionlessly. He pulled out a gun and chambered a round before glancing back at him through his dark glasses. "Let’s move, Rider."
Beth guided Amy over to the beaten Lost Boy and sat them down. She said, "That was risky, Amy."
"Too small in here for fighting," she dully noted, looking around in emphasis. "Fireball would’ve taken all of us out." The younger witch gave her a tired grin. "Wouldn’t want that, would we?"
Beth agreed but didn’t like it. "Right. Next time we’ll share the spell duties, okay?"
"Don’t say, ‘next time…’" Amy said before shaking herself to keep from passing out. She glanced at the Lost Boy and sighed. "Shit. Glad I had Shaw put a healing spell into my athame."
"Want me to do it?" Beth asked, concerned that any more spells on Amy’s part would put her under. To her satisfaction, Amy nodded. "Okay, I’ll handle it."
Blade peeked around the corner into an empty room. Snarling at the lack of targets, he glanced at his sometime ally. "You feel anything?"
Ghost Rider, the one entity that could outdo him in poker faces, just stared for a few seconds. [THERE ARE SOME RESIDUAL MAGICS HERE. THEY MAY HAVE TELEPORTED AWAY TO SAFETY.]
Blade’s teeth started grinding. "Not good. How many got away?"
[ONLY FOUR. I DO NOT THINK THEY ARE CLOSE, BUT THE SLAYER MAY BE ABLE TO DETECT THEM IF THEY ARE STILL NEARBY.]
"Right." Blade clicked the safety on his gun and put it away. "Still, not a bad day’s work."
The two turned and started back to the others.
"Shit. We’re gonna have to carry her down," Amy said with a wrinkled nose. "This is SO gross."
"Yeah, people getting shot usually is," Pat Kelly sighed. "Let’s pick her up and get her downstairs so we can get out of here after she wakes up."
Shuddering at having to carry a corpse, the Amazon reached down and picked up JD’s body. Looking around, she spied the approaching Blade and Daniel. <Fight must be over.> "Well?"
"No good. They used magic to split."
Amy’s face fell, but Daniel held up his hands. "It’s okay, GR didn’t sense them anywhere nearby. They’re gone, Amy."
"It’s not okay," she protested, her youth peeking through her command persona. <Dammit, why couldn’t we get them all!> "How many, Dan?"
"Four," the New York teen replied. He sighed. "Sorry, but GR made the choice to protect the kid."
Amy glanced at the kid… <Rico,> she recalled. Sanchez held him in his arms, still unconscious. The healing spell had stopped his internal bleeding, but they had to hurry if they were going to have their healer finish the work. "Okay, let’s move out." She glanced at the small woman in her arms again. "She is going to be SO pissed when she wakes up."
"Why?" Dan asked jokingly. "Because she missed out on you impersonating a bug zapper?"
"No, when she wakes up and has to explain coming back from the dead to her partner," Amy groaned.
"I don’t know," Kelly said offhandedly, "I think it might be fun seeing JD on the receiving end for once."
The entire group other than the sole remaining vampire shared a look and started laughing, the combination of fading adrenaline and realization that the battle was over cutting through their tension like a Ginsu through a tomato.
"Let’s go. If we hurry," Amy groused, "we can catch the JD show."
"What about him?" Kelly asked with a nod to the trembling vampire who still suffered from Ghost Rider’s Penance Stare.
"Bring him along," she said, "maybe we can resoul him. Offer him the chance for redemption." As Kelly and Sanchez lead the shivering wreck of a demon downstairs, Amy paused and chanced a glance back at the area the gangbangers had retreated to. <I have to let Gunn know about the escapees.> With a shake of her head, the disappointed commander turned and started down.
East Side Teen Shelter
East Side
Los Angeles, California (the Wandererverse)
13 December 1998
"Gunn, they’re back!" Jaina shouted from the doorway.
As he and Pablo turned toward her, she looked back outside. She turned back to them, relief and concern warring in her eyes. "They have RICO!"
Gunn felt his heart break as he and the crew all started crowding toward the doorway. Jaina opened the door and the first of the fighters started staggering in, Barbie Girl and the SWAT boss the first ones in the door.
Gunn couldn’t help but stare at the hole in Madison’s armor. He felt a sharp pain as someone slapped him on the head and turned to see Lily glaring at him. He winced at the fire in her eyes. <Geez, she might be hurt and you think I’m checking her out? Damn…> He walked up to her, taking care to only look into her blue eyes. "Barbie, what the Hell happened to you?"
"Geez, ‘hi’ to you too, Baldie." The haggard witch shook herself. "Sorry. Where’s Shaw? Rico needs some more help."
"Shit!" Gunn breathed. He turned to Rondell and Tommy. "Get him to the infirmary. We’ll bring Hunter up there to work her mojo on him." As those two moved to take the injured brother upstairs, Gunn saw his crew moving to various members of the task force, starting to bombard them with questions about what happened as well as bragging about their own fight. He turned back to Teri Hatcher’s blonde twin. "Hey, Amy. Did you do it? Did you get ‘em?"
She favored him with a look that made him uncomfortable. "Let’s sit down in the office. Grab whoever you want, but get Shaw upstairs to help Rico."
"Got it. But…" He looked around and leaned in toward her. "Why’d you give her the grenade launcher? Jaina’s bugging me to get you Delta Force dudes to ship a couple to us."
Amy’s eyes blanked out for a second. "What grenade launcher?" she demanded before they both got the point. "Ooooooooooooo! I’m gonna kill her!"
"Hey! Don’t knock it! Jaina blew up the demons that came after us," he protested. "You were right; the vamps did try something."
Amy’s face grew tight. "Were they eliminated?"
"Three of ‘em." Gunn held an arm out to let her follow him into the office. "The other two were wounded, but Hunter fixed them up after they swore some high-ass promise not to try this shit again." He frowned; making deals with demons wasn’t his forte. "Hunter, Banyon, and the demons came to some kind of deal to act as snoops for some guy called ‘Wanderer.’ Really made ‘em shit their pants, if you get my drift."
Amy winced at the thought of explaining that to Steve and Buffy when they got back. <Great. Thanks a lot, cuz!> "I’ll deal with it and my boss. Anything else?"
They walked into the office. Gunn grabbed a blanket and draped it gently over her shoulders as he softly guided her to sit on the couch. She reached up and stroked his hand with her own, her eyes shining at him, expressing her thanks for his gallantry. Gunn sat next to her and narrowed his eyes. "Okay, this is where you say, ‘I got good news and bad news.’ Let’s just hear the bad news."
She gave him a look that betrayed her hard-ass exterior to show both frustration and worry. "I failed you, Gunn. We didn’t get them all."
Gunn leaned forward, feeling a knot of worry in his innards. "How many got away? Straight up, I gotta know in case they come back."
"Four," she said with a sigh. "The gangbanger vamps used a teleport spell! I don’t know how they got their hands on it…"
"Wait a minute! Four? Four vamps got away?" He shook his head in disbelief. "That’s ALL?"
Calista the Second blinked. "Gunn, they know where you are. And if they start ‘recruiting’ again…"
"We’ll handle it," he said with surety. He knew how she felt; the burden of command had weighed him down more than once. "God, Amy! We had fifty or sixty when you started! And you’re complaining about four? We’ll track them down, don’t you worry."
She shot an incredulous look at him. "Gunn, there were eighty of them! At least in the main warehouse…"
Gunn stared at her, crunching the numbers. "What about the second lair?"
Commando Barbie shook her head. "It was empty. They’d joined up to get ready and come after you." She folded her hands. "I just don’t want to explain to Steve how I screwed this up."
"How you screwed what up?" he asked. <Is she nuts? Only four vamps got away and she screwed up?>
"I didn’t think they’d use magic," she said sourly. "ME! A WITCH of all people didn’t assume there’d be magic involved! An anti-magic spell. That’s all it would’ve taken to keep them from escaping. Steve would’ve thought of it…"
"Steve bein’ your boss?" When she nodded dismally, he rolled his eyes. "So lemme see if I got this straight; you think you screwed up ‘cause you let four vamps get away when your ex-Green Beret, spy-type boss wouldn’t have?"
His sarcasm was rewarded with a sharp glare from her. Her eyes darkened just the slightest. "It’s not funny, Gunn! JD got shot! If it hadn’t been for some healing…" She shivered. "I nearly got her killed, Gunn! We did everything we could and some of them still got away. Like I said, Steve would’ve thought about this stuff beforehand. Look at the Forum; he plans a fight that takes out seven hundred vamps and twenty demons. Me, I can’t even get a frickin’ street gang."
Gunn pounded the table, startling the witch. He shook his head, not believing what he was hearing. "That’s enough, Amy!" he snapped. "I talked to your folks and guess what? Your high and mighty boss nearly got Kendra, a Slayer, for Christ’s sakes killed along with twenty cops at the Forum! So I don’t wanna hear you pissin’ and moanin’ because you didn’t do as good as your boss! You said it yourself, girlfriend; he’s Rambo and Bond rolled into one, he’s been doing this for years! And he nearly lost a Slayer. How long have you been doing this again?"
She muttered, "I joined up permanently in February…"
"Ten months. You’ve been doing this for ten months, compared to super-dude who’s been going ‘la la la’ all over the world for God knows how long! Girl…" He stopped, deciding to drop the tough act and try to talk sense to her. "Amy, look. One thing I learned a long time ago was you can’t win it all. And I know what it’s like to lose people. Yours came home, right? Even that pain in the ass?"
Amy nodded. "Yeah. But Gunn, we still didn’t get them all. And…" She gave him a haunted look. "Gunn, this was all for drugs. DRUGS, dammit!"
"Figured it was something like that," he said with a shrug. "You’re not used to something that…mundane, are you? Your gig’s saving the world, not doing drug busts, right?" She sighed a bit, showing the hurt and it finally struck him that she cared. She cared about him and his posse, never mind that they’d only met that day. <It doesn’t matter to her; we’re both fighting the same battle, just in different ways.> Before he realized what he was doing, he reached up and cupped her cheek gently in his palm. Surprisingly, she turned into his touch like a cat seeking comfort. "You don’t always get what you want in a fight, Skipper. But this was a great start." Gunn smiled softly, the enormity of knowing that they had won, or at least bought themselves time enough to heal and be young people again, fully sinking in. "This is your first command, ain’t it?" She nodded again. "Hey, Madison, for your first time, you did okay. Don’t knock yourself. Hell, you’re younger than I am. I’ve been doing this for eight months and we barely held our own. You took ‘em out in one day. Your boss has a problem with that, you tell him to come see me and I’ll kick his ass, city style."
Amy chewed her bottom lip before giving him a tiny, tired smile that blossomed into a grin. "You beat up Steve? Yeah, right!" He watched as she relaxed a bit and started to think about their success, rather than her supposed failure. Finally, she looked at him, gratitude shining in those Technicolor eyes that he wanted to drown in. "What does it say when it’s the city boy amateur that gives the big bad Amazon the pep talk."
"It says that this isn’t your normal horror movie-type thing." When she frowned in bafflement, he chuckled. "Usually, the black dude dies first."
She rolled her eyes at him and giggled. "SHUT UP, GUNN!"
About an hour later, the two groups had finished trading stories and phone numbers. Gunn’s group refused to give up the fight; this was their ‘hood and they’d defend it. Rondell was pissed that the cops were adamant that they receive "formal" training, but the old "cops vs. homeys" thing died hard for some.
Jaina all but begged the Madisons to let her keep the grenade launcher, but to no avail. Gunn thanked God that wasn’t going to be a problem.
He did wonder why Sloan was blushing so much. <Poor guy. His partner must be razzing him even worse than we saw her do to him.> He paused for a second. <Better him than me.>
He watched as the Suburbia-bound people packed their things into their cars. The SWAT teams were gonna scope out the area tonight and for the next few nights, so he and the crew could get some rest. They’d earned it, or so the cops had said. Gunn decided that he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
He noticed Rico walking around, having been told secondhand about the battles, both here and at the warehouse. No one blamed him for cracking, since the vamps had shot him up so full of crack it’d made him tell the vamps how the Boys were going to waste every single one of them. <Well, it’s nice to know he had confidence in us,> Gunn chuckled. He saw Tommy and Jaina talking to El, who was planning on having his pointy-eared posse check in at least once a week, just to make sure the spells that his friends had put up were holding.
The leader was surprised to find that he didn’t mind having help. It’d take time for the hard-liners like Jaina and Rondell to take the free help, especially from the Fuzz, but he liked the idea of knowing they’d have people watching their backs. <We don’t have to do it alone.>
He’d been wandering around, thinking about everything, when he found himself out front, staring at the Barbie twins, who were finishing packing up. They seemed to be talking, probably about the fight. He thought about the shakes Hunter’d had after the demons got stomped, wondering how she’d managed to hold up after having a "rough time" a few weeks ago. He didn’t want to know the details; the look in her eyes was enough. But she’d still managed to "patch up" Rico easily enough. He chuckled again. <Then she hustled downstairs and spent a full minute huggin’ her cuz.> He knew how she and the blonde on the receiving end of the hug felt; he felt lumps in his throat every night Alonna was out of his sight, and she always made sure to hug him when he got home from patrolling. <And Blondie’s the only thing she has left. Must’ve been really hard, waitin’ here with us while Amy lead the raid.>
"Hey, Barbie I and II! You just gonna take off without sayin’ ‘so long?’" he joked. When the girls turned to him, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt. "I thought you’d at least make some smart ass comment before you left."
"It’d be too easy and I like a challenge," Madison said with a grin. It looked like their talk had gotten to her. She walked over and offered her hand, still looking a little whacked. "Let’s at least try to keep in touch, okay pal? Maybe we’ll get to talk or share pizza without having to worry about watching each other’s backs."
He took her hand and shook it, hoping the same. "You expect us to come to the boonies for pizza?"
"Hey, Romero’s has the best pizza in Ventura County," she said. "You’d love their meat lovers."
"You actually eat that? You don’t look it!" he observed, giving her body the once over.
Her blue eyes twinkled at him. "Please. You can’t weigh that much more than me, toothpick."
"Hey!"
"See ya, Charlie," she murmured with a snicker. Then she glanced down and blushed a bit. She gazed back up and stared deeply into his eyes while gracing him with her perfect smile. "Gunn, about the talk… thanks. It really meant a lot."
"No prob, Barbie. I just ripped off ‘Lonna saying the same thing to me."
"Don’t let her find out," Amy cracked, laughing a bit. It made Gunn feel good to know she so wasn’t down in the dumps anymore. She said, "We gotta get going. No rest for the weary."
"Or the Wicked Witch of the West Coast?"
"Nope. Her either." She gave him one last look in the eyes. "Take care of yourself and your people, Gunn. You’re doing good work here." She turned and headed toward the SUV. "Say bye-bye, Shaw."
<Well, looks like she didn’t chew Elf Girl out too much over the grenade thing,> he noted as Hunter came up to say bon voyage. He smiled at her too. "So you gonna come back and check up on your little church here?"
"Perhaps," she shrugged. "The elves here in Los Angeles gave me an open invitation to visit them. You and your friends are not far away." Her face became serious. "Good luck, Charles."
"Same to you, Dark Barbie." He held his hand out again. "And thanks for backing me up with the girls about that flirting thang."
Shaw cocked an eyebrow at him. "It was the least I could do. And you are welcome. Besides, Amy is not usually the type to intentionally make women jealous or angry."
"Good," he sighed in relief.
"On the other hand…" Shaw said, glancing at her cousin. She walked over and whispered something. Amy frowned until the ‘Dark Angel’ Barbie said something else. She glanced back at him before listening to more from Elf Girl.
She cocked her head, seemed to think about something, and smiled. She returned and gave him that smile that drove him nuts. "You know, she’s right about one thing; seems there was a post-fight tradition we need to perform. And especially this close to Hollywood…"
"What’s that?" Gunn asked suspiciously.
‘Light Angel’ Barbie didn’t say a word. She reached up, grabbed his shirt, and pulled his face down to hers. Then she pressed her white girl lips against his, begging entrance into his mouth with her tongue teasing his lips. He parted them and her tongue swept inside, to mate with his. It had felt like time had stopped for Gunn as they kissed deeply, wantonly for several moments. She moaned into his mouth as she pressed her slight, willowy body against his chest, allowing him to feel her hard nipples through the material of their clothing against him. Then, when she finally released him, his glassy brown eyes stared into her beautiful face, enjoying the sight of her plump, ravaged lips.
"The hero kissing the love interest and riding off into the sunset." She turned and left him standing there, too dazed to respond. "Yippie-kie-yay, pilgrim…" Before she vanished around the corner of the Tahoe, he heard her voice in his head. //I won’t forget the talk nor the great kiss, Chrome Dome. THANKS!//
She climbed into the truck and Gunn could hear the Barbie Twins laughing their heads off. As the SUV took off, the setting sun reflecting off the windows, he just shook his head. "Women!" he snarled. "Always gotta have the last word." <Jesus...I need a cold shower after that kiss!>
Finally feeling the weight of the day’s events catching up to him, Gunn decided to go in and catch some z’s. He turned around to go back into the shelter for his well-deserved night’s rest. He stopped when he saw Jaina giving him a death’s head stare that promised a slow, painful, agonizing death.
<They… they…> "Oh shit…" he groaned. "Jaina…"
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING LETTING THAT SKANKY, FLAT-ASSED SOLDIER BITCH PRATICALLY RAPE YOU IN FRONT OF ME?!?!?"
He winced, then his eyes narrowed. <I’m gonna kill those Barbies. Some day I’m gonna kill them…>
Abandoned Warehouse
East Side
Los Angeles, California (the Wandererverse)
13 December 1998
"Jesus Christ, they destroyed everything!" Julio whined. The vampires eyed the devastation left behind by the SWAT teams that had all but wiped out their headquarters. Even the drugs hadn’t been taken; instead they’d dumped the pure stuff onto the floor and fried it with some kind of fire. "Ah, man… we’re gonna have to start from scratch when we get to San Diego!"
"We still going? We’re not going to try and do Gunn and his punks?"
"Hell no!" Julio snapped. He threw the AK-47 down in disgust. It landed on the floor with a clatter. "I don’t play the revenge game, you idiots. We’re gonna steal us a ride and head south. Let’s get moving, homeys."
The quartet of vampires started walking through the ruins of their home, heading out of the warehouse.
An hour later, Julio and his crew were still looking for a car that wouldn’t be missed, when they spied a pair of mortals walking down the street, looking somewhat lost. He smiled and cocked his head at them. "Let’s grab a bite to eat before finding our ride."
The vampires, hungry after the trying events of the day, weren’t going to argue. They slowly moved toward the couple, one of them a young, hot looking babe, he and one other crossing the street so they could cut off any escape route their intended meals might take.
The two humans saw them coming and looked at each other. The vampire was surprised when the older human asked, sounding quite bored, "Which two do you want?"
The girl nodded at Julio and his partner. "Those two. Let us make this quick, as we have important things to do."
Julio didn’t know whether to be worried about or offended by that remark. He let his game face show and snarled, "Try me, you little puta!"
"Gladly," she said with a strange sounding voice. She cocked her head and said, "This won’t take very long."
The fear and anger over everything that had happened rushing to the front of his mind, Julio charged. As soon as he and his homey got within reach, he reached for her. However, the girl wasn’t there; she dodged to his right and cold cocked the other vampire between the eyes. He heard bone shattering as he turned toward her. He saw his fellow vamp twitching on the ground.
The girl looked at the vampire, sensing his confusion. "It’s quite simple. I punched him in the nose, shattering the bones there and shooting fragments into his brain. I am told that even vampires have a difficult time recovering from destroyed brain cells." She let the slightest of grins touch her face and said, "Then again, it’s been my experience that vampires hardly utilize the brains they have in any event."
With a bestial roar, the demon charged again, all restraint lost.
<Aunt Elizabeth was so right. Those puns always work well,> the female idly noted as she executed a snap kick that impacted with the vampire’s jaw. She promptly followed up by grabbing his arm and whipping him against a nearby brick wall. She heard his teeth chatter and grabbed him by the throat with her right hand.
With a small amount of exertion, well within the limits of her strength, she lifted the hundred and sixty pound hellspawn a full foot off the ground. Before she could get the information she required, the vampire desperately brought both hands up, clenched them, and axe-handled her arm.
The feeling of pain in her arm reminded her that despite her special nature, she could still be damaged. As the vampire landed, he tried to hit her with a roundhouse. She blocked the punch and brought her right arm up and around, concentrating in the same instant. She backhanded her opponent across the jaw and followed up with a left hook to the stomach.
While he was recovering, she again reached in and clutched his windpipe with her right hand. She lifted him once more, but this time the vampire was too weak to do more than weakly clutch at her appendage.
Julio’s eyes crossed as he tried to focus. As his vision cleared, he felt himself staring at the arm holding him aloft once more. Cold dread started forming in his gut as he took in the sight before him; the woman’s arm, bare since she was wearing nothing more than a sleeveless white blouse, was silverish in color, lights reflecting off the shiny surface. Her forearm, wrist, hands, and even the fingers digging into his windpipe, were metal!
Illumination from the streetlamps reflected off the shiny, silvery surface. What really frightened Julio was that the arm didn’t look like a fake or one of those artificial things; the arm was shaped like an arm! <Oh shit, it’s like her skin and the robot shit are the same thing! Oh shit!!! Wait! Robot… OH MY GOD!!!> "You’re… you’re…"
"Going to dust you in about three seconds, vampire," the woman said. <He noticed. Good. That will make things much easier.> She gave him a slight squeeze with her right hand. "I have questions to ask you. Answer them quickly, and this will end quickly."
"What the Hell are you?" the vampire asked her. "Are you with those people who just wasted my gang?"
With that funny voice, Robot Girl cocked her head and answered,
"These people. Were they being lead by a young blonde woman, petite and beautiful?"
"Yes," he hissed through his throttled windpipe.
"Where are they now?"
When Julio asked her why she didn’t already know that answer, she kicked him in the balls with her platform shoes.
"OWWWW!"
"You’re answering questions, Dead Boy. Not asking them. Let us try that again, vampire…"
The girl walked out of the alley, a weapon in her hand in case her companion needed help.
She noticed the other, wiping dust off a few feet away. Replacing her weapon, she smiled and asked, "You did not have a difficult time either, I take it?"
"Hardly, my dear," he said, replacing the handkerchief. "It only took two stabs and they were in need of new hosts."
"Good." She glanced around and didn’t see anyone, or anything, in visual range. She glanced at her arm once and smiled. "In case you were wondering, the vampire noticed my arm."
"Did he get away?"
The girl arched an eyebrow. "No, he did not. I will thank you not to insinuate otherwise." She spared another glance around their immediate area. "I received confirmation from him. We are in our proper location. Indeed, they may still be in the area. I would so like to see them."
He shook his head. "It’s too soon. We must be patient."
She nodded reluctantly. "Now that we’re here, what do we do?"
The older one gazed at her, glancing at the lights glinting off the hard surface of the girl’s forearm. "What do you think we should do, young lady?"
She smiled a bit, glancing at her arm and remembering the first time her nature was revealed to her. "What I am supposed to do," she intoned easily. "After all, I am the Slayer."
She brought the leather jacket from under her arm that she had the vampire take off before she killed him. Then she threw it on, covering her arm so that no one else would learn the truth about her.
Then the girl and her companion disappeared into the night.
The Sunnydale Sewer System
Underneath the Ventura County Die And Tool Company
Sunnydale, California (the Wishverse)
13 December 1998
Maxine peered into the darkness down one of the sewer tunnels at the junction near the ladder to the surface. She fought a sudden chill, a tremor she tried to chalk up to the seasonably cool weather above, as the Boogeyman relayed some orders over his radio. She ignored his words and tried to keep her mind on the job. <He’ll say something if he has to.> The New Yorker fingered the Uzi she’d been issued and tried not to let her nervousness show. <Never let ‘em see you sweat.>
She kept her eyes peeled on the tunnel when Duncan muttered, "Damn." His voice rose a bit. "Keighvin says they have some humans up there. Prisoners and collaborators."
Her boss chimed in, "Great. Is there any way for the mages to separate them so we don’t accidentally shoot any humans?"
"Just a minute." She listened to Mac Junior converse with the wizard types again.
Not for the first time, Max wondered if she was ready for this kind of fracas. Sure, making the rounds in Times Square and the Bronx and trolling for bloodsuckers was fun, but this was another thing entirely. Despite her flippant attitude, she was uneasy. She had to try hard not to accidentally squeeze the trigger of her gun. <After all, this is yer coming out party. You get ta strut yer stuff in front of the other gals.> She wasn’t exactly the biggest in the praying ten times a day department, but she didn’t want to come up short here. For some reason, it mattered to her, if not only so that she could see if she measured up to this Amazon gig. <The Pride of the Big Apple and all that.>
She fought to keep her eyes peeled as the frequent subject of her and Connor’s barbs raised his voice again. "Listen up." She heard that command tone in his voice. "I go first. Connor, you follow me, then Maxine. Mulder and Dana, you bring up the rear. Twenty seconds from my mark. MARK!"
Maxine tried to swallow but found she couldn’t. <This is IT.> "Got it, boogeyman," she murmured, hoping her nerves didn’t show. She finally allowed herself to turn halfway so she could see both the tunnel and her partners. Duncan was slinging his rifle so he could climb the ladder. Connor took position behind him, while she, Mulder, and Dana tightened around them a bit.
The young Immortal watched the boss for the mission look around the second he grabbed the ladder. "Is everyone ready?"
<Can I get back to you on that?> she mused wryly. Connor was the first to nod his assent. She quickly followed up with, "Let’s get this show on the road."
Duncan’s eyes flashed at her for a second, but they settled down a bit after he stared into hers. He nodded once, as if saying he understood or that he’d been there. Max decided that if he could do this, then so could she.
Max saw how Duncan kept his eye on his watch. She waited for him to start, but she was still caught off guard when he snapped, "Go!" He took off up the ladder with a speed that impressed her. As soon as he opened the sewer cover and his legs disappeared through the opening, Connor was moving. She couldn’t help but gnash her teeth at how easy they made it look.
She felt a touch on her shoulder. She turned her head and saw Scully smiling at her, nodding at her to go ahead and take her place on the ladder. Stifling her smart remark at being treated like a rookie, Maxine strode to the ladder and started scaling it, using her Amazon strength to haul her ass up quicker than most people could do.
She winced at the screaming once she cleared ground level. As her head popped through the opening, she saw Duncan preparing to kick the door down. "Ready, Connor?" he asked, with a grin that she thought Connor had a US Patent on.
"Let’s do it," Connor said agreeably, wearing the smirk Max often wanted to smack off his face.
<Just like the old days,> she moaned to herself, remembering the look Connor always got when talking about his adventures with Duncan. As she scooted to the side of the opening, she brought up her Uzi and had the briefest fantasy of shooting both MacLeods for dragging her ass into these kinds of messes.
She saw their mutual nods, which signaled Duncan to kick the door down and run through. Connor quickly followed and the screams Maxine’d heard had the sound of machine guns added to them. Gritting her teeth, Maxine ran forward, pushing through the doorway and hoping she wasn’t going to have to bail those two idiots out.
She was surprised by what she saw; a number of vamps already smoking, burning, or sitting on the ground as piles of ash. She blinked her eyes at the light pouring through the skylight… <What the Hell…> She looked up and got the idea that the wizzes must’ve done that. She also saw four people hanging in midair near the roof, surrounded by a force field or something. <The vics.>
Another burst of Uzi fire made the Immortal focus on the task at hand. Seeing her boss and his cuz handling the left and right, Max whirled around to cover their asses and scanned for a target. She backed up, half-running into the sunlit area that would keep the bloodsuckers from attacking them hand to hand. She felt a rush of ‘Oh well’ strike her. She preferred a good, old-fashioned, hand-to-hand ass whoopin’ over the hi-tech stuff.
She saw a vamp raise a Saturday Night Special and nearly froze. This wasn’t the first time she’d had a gun aimed at her, but vamps usually didn’t wield a piece. Her anger replaced the fear as she brought her own toy up and let fly with hot lead. The asshole didn’t even have time for his eyes to bug out before she sent him packing to Hell.
Maxine heard one vamp shout, "Get them!" Before she could handle his ass, a double burst of rapid-fire bullets told her he’d been iced. The Feds joined her and she backed up, placing herself in the middle of the quintet. <I’ll handle the sides,> she decided. She turned to her left and shot a burst that took out one vamp and forced two others to duck behind a cutting machine. Frustration over them getting away made her blush, but then she saw a slight opening. She carefully aimed and squeezed off a quick burst at the foot peeking out. Her rounds slammed into his foot, making him jump up, howling in agony.
"Gotcha!" she shouted gleefully, the rush of battle finally claiming her. She fired the last rounds from her magazine into the vamp, dusting his sorry ass. Automatically, she thumbed her magazine release and reached for the next clip.
Stifling a snarl of triumph, Max put her emotions on lockdown, the Boss Man’s voice telling her (in her mind) that control mattered more than pure anger. Trying her best to remember that, she spared a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure no dead guys were pointing guns at her backside.
Her eyes froze once they spied one bloodsucker shouting into a cell phone, trying to make himself heard over the racket. She pulled the trigger, expecting the dude to burst apart. The short "CLICK" somehow made its way to her ears over the chaos of battle. Max stared at her gun, feeling betrayed. <Damn it!> She glanced up at the vamp and knew that there was only one reason he’d be shouting into a cell phone while his buddies were dying.
<FUCK!> She dropped the jammed gun and bolted straight at the vamp, reaching for the dao at her side. Connor must’ve noticed because he screamed her name.
<Too bad,> she thought.
She drew her sword and saw that the Dead Guy had seen her making a beeline for him. He stood up, throwing his cell phone away, still open and on. Instead of running, he seemed frozen to the spot. His eyes widened in shock as the Bronx-raised woman slammed into him, taking him to the ground with her.
As they collided with the cement floor, Max whirled to her feet and brought her sword back. With none of the grace her mentor had taught her over the last six months, Maxine used an old fashioned Reggie Jackson baseball swing, sending her Chinese blade cleaving through his neck like a weed whacker.
She didn’t so much see as "feel" the two vamps rush her from different directions. Reacting on six months of warrior instinct, not to mention a lifetime’s worth of reflexes honed dodging taxi drivers, Max lashed out behind her with a rear kick, hearing ribs crack under the impact. She followed up with a roundhouse into the jaw of the vamp that’d tried to broadside her. She didn’t have time to take care of these doofuses; she had other priorities.
Her eyes found the cell phone as she heard someone demand to know what was going on over the open channel. She raised her booted foot and improvised a way to hang up on the bastard.
She looked around and was suddenly aware of the eerie silence that had somehow fallen throughout the warehouse. Maxine saw that the magic Feds and that rich elf guy had blasted their way into the building as well. It took her a few seconds to get that it was all over.
<That’s it?> she wondered dully. She looked around and saw not a single vamp left standing. "Jesus Christ…" she muttered before blinking and looking up. "No offense, Boss Lady."
//None taken,// a faint voice said in her head. //It takes a while to get used to it.//
<Switchin’ prayers or the shootin’?> she asked. She didn’t receive an answer.
Shuddering a bit, Max panned the room. The magic guys were lowering the vics to the floor while the lovebirds looked like they were cussing out some other living dudes. <Vamp helpers? Who cares? Not my job.>
She saw Connor stalking her way and groaned, "Oh shit." She stayed put; she wasn’t going to run from the ass chewing she knew was coming her way.
He stormed up to her. "What in God’s name did you think you were doing?!?" the Boss shouted. "Are you totally insane?!?"
Growling at his attitude, she snapped, "For one thing, Connor, my frickin’ gun jammed! And…"
"You know how to unjam a gun!" he barked.
She got in his face and hissed, "Yeah, it’s real easy in the store or when you’re a stupid old fart like you, Conna! But when ya got a bloodsucka callin’ fer some frickin’ backup, ya gotta take the shithead out pronto! Ya get my drift?" He actually looked stumped so she kept on going. "Sucker had a phone, he was screamin’ inta it, I stopped him. You really wanna make somethin’ of it, Boss Man?"
Connor chewed on that for a sec or two. Finally, the old fart swallowed his pride and nodded to her. "All right. Good eye." She tried not to show how much she liked that, but he caught it and glared at her again. "Don’t get cocky, young lady. You got away with it this time, but you could have risked every one of us with that stunt!"
"Oh really!" she snapped, her temper growing thin. "And like you did this good in your first big fight?"
She took a good deal of satisfaction in the way he winced. He knew what she was talking about. "That was different," he reminded her.
"Yeah. I didn’t have to wear a skirt." She stalked off. Before she could join Mulder and Scully, Duncan intercepted her. She growled, "I don’t wanna hear it, Boogeyman. So get off my case."
"I’m not going to get on it, Max, unless you force me to," he said quietly. She gave him the evil eye but he just watched her carefully. "Connor’s right about one thing; the move was risky."
She started to move around him. "’Course you’d agree with him."
He stepped in front of her again. "I’m not finished." When she got ready to move him out of her way, his voice became cold. "You listen and listen good. Do you really think your temper tantrum is impressing Scully? She’s going to report to the other Amazons how you handled yourself. Do you want her to tell them you’re acting like a spoiled child or that maybe you’re not ready to be counted on by your Sisters in the bigger battle to come?"
He had her and she knew it. Before she could give him a scathing remark, he said, "On the other hand, what you did worked. You saw the vampire making the call and you did what you had to to stop him. You realized what he was doing and took him down. You did the right thing. It was risky, but you made the right decision…this time."
"So I did good?" she asked doubtfully, wondering where’s the catch.
"I said you made the right decision. I didn’t say it was handled as well as it could’ve been. I don’t know if there was an alternative. And I don’t ask, ‘What if?’" He shouldered his machine gun and turned around. Max saw that Kev was opening up one of those Portal things the pointy-eared set were good at. "I know you’ve been in fights before, but this one was different. This was your first battle. I know it’s not easy, I’ve been there." He glanced at her and she saw him smiling. "At least you came out better than Connor did."
She snickered but his smile vanished.
"Now go grab your gun, any other equipment you dropped, and unjam your weapon before we move out. When we get back, you have it checked to find out why it jammed."
Max grimaced but couldn’t snap at him. He was right. "Right. Got it." She walked over to her Uzi and snarled at it, like it was the gun’s fault she’d had to do a kamikaze. She picked it up and pulled the mag out. "Piece of shit. Give me a lead pipe or a good Louisville Slugger any day."
She slung the gun and saw Scully staring at her. She swallowed, wondering what Red was going to tell the Sisterhood when they got back. Scully gave her a smile and a small nod, which reassured her a bit. It calmed her down and she glanced at Connor, who was helping the magicians herd the bad guys through the Gate thing.
She started over toward him, but stopped as he glanced her way. That ass smirked at her and she vowed never to apologize to him again before he mouthed something.
"Not bad," she read him silently telling her. "For the first time."
She blinked in surprise, wondering how he could be telling her that after he’d gotten on her case right after the fight… <Right after the scrap ended. When we still coulda had some vamps alive and kickin’.> She chewed on that for a few seconds before deciding to discuss it with him later.
A slightly confused Maxine walked through the portal, leaving the empty building behind. It wasn’t until she stepped through that she realized, for the first time since making the deal with the Greek Lady, that she was actually asking Artemis to help her puzzle it out.
<Was I actually praying to you?> she wondered, not really asking Leather Woman. She shook her head. <Did that really rate as a shout out? Who knows? Huh.> She stopped and added one more comment. <Don’t answer that!>
317 Bryant Terrace
Sunnydale, California (the Wishverse)
13 December 1998
Wish Buffy winced under the weight of yet another victim of the vampires here in Mayberry. "Come on," she whispered supportively, albeit uncomfortably; she wasn't good at this Florence Nightingale stuff. "We'll get you fixed up."
It wasn't the physical weight that made her uneasy; the strength she inherited as part of her calling as the Chosen One was more than equal to the task. It was seeing all these injured people, people she'd never seen before, some of whom still might not make it. <But these guys can do it. If they can travel between universes, how can they let them croak…> She shook her head, disgusted by her own term. <How can they let them die? They can't save 'em just to let them die.>
Wish Buffy's ears winced from the renewed assault of noise as the Feds and those Knight guys rushed around, doing the first aid thing on the… <Refugees? Is that what they are?> She somehow weaved her way through the masses without bumping into anyone, automatically adjusting herself if the man she was supporting groaned, in order to make him less uncomfortable. <He's suffered enough.>
She finally found an empty cot and guided him down. She tried to give him a reassuring smile, feeling like it wasn't anywhere near adequate. "You're gonna be okay. These guys'll take good care of you."
The man smiled weakly. "Thanks kid. But how'd you end up here?"
"You could say I was drafted," she said in a wan attempt at humor. "Just my luck the guy in charge was Rambo-turned-demon hunter." She looked around and called out, "Some help here!"
The Hispanic Fed, Eddie, came up and looked over the man. Her blood ran cold when he cursed under his breath. She felt a chill run up and down her spine. He looked up at her. "What's your blood type?"
The question only puzzled her. "Come again?"
"Your blood type. He's going to need a transfusion. It'll hold him until we can get him to a regular hospital." She couldn't tell him she didn't know before he turned his attention back to the man she'd carried here. "What's your blood type, son?"
"B positive," the man answered weakly. "They made sure of knowing what types we had."
The man passed out. Wish Buffy grabbed the FBI guy's arm. "Help him, damnit!"
Eddie winced under her grip. "We'll do our best." He removed her hand and barked, "George!"
The fat guy soldier came up and said, "Yeah?"
"Transfusion. You up for it?"
George chewed on his lollipop. It made Wish Buffy want to slug him for taking his time in answering. He said, "Sure. Only gave one pint so far."
"Good," the boss Agent told him. "Get ready to make it a double."
"Sure."
Wish Buffy didn't move during the exchange; she let them hash out the details. She wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs and glanced around the room. She eyed all the wounded people and began feeling light headed. She started walking toward the front door as some instinct told her to get out of there.
As she neared the doorway, a small hand clamped down on her shoulder. She whirled around and came face to face with her double.
"Where are you going?" Buffy asked, concern etched on her face.
The Slayer's eyes darted around, looking at everything but the young woman who was in charge now. She mumbled, "I need some air."
"Well, don't go out the front, okay?" the Other Buffy told her. Wish Buffy started to glare at her, but Other Buffy gently said, "The back yard will give you some privacy."
Caught off guard, Wish Buffy looked her twin in the eyes. Swallowing nervously, she wondered, <Does she know?> She searched those eyes again but couldn't tell. Still, she didn't mind the idea of privacy. "Thanks."
"Just don't go too far," Buffy said, a slight bit of "order" in her voice. "We need everyone here. Especially you."
"G-got it," Wish Buffy stammered before taking off. She could feel the Slayer's eyes on her but didn't turn around to acknowledge them.
Wish Buffy leaned against the wall, trying to banish the images of bloody, broken bodies from her mind. The sights she'd seen in the last hour brought back memories of her mother, bodies she'd seen in vampire nests but never considered to have been people… and the fight a week ago. Not the butt kicking the Master had given her. No, that wasn't what had stuck in her mind.
It was her.
The girl who'd been chosen to "demonstrate" the Master's assembly line. Wish Buffy shuddered, replaying the images in her mind's eye. The girl lying senseless on the conveyor belt; the needles out of some nightmare about doctor visits piercing her skin; the sounds of suction as her blood was drained in less than twenty seconds.
<And I let it happen,> she thought dismally. <I let that girl die because I wanted to kill that bloodsucking asshole!>
The seventeen-year-old girl's mind flashed back to the scene inside the house. All those people, hurt. Some of them were still touch and go. She thought about the differences in how she and her double did things. Something she wouldn't have thought about before meeting that Buffy and talking with… <Joyce. Joyce, not Mom.>
<Look at that club,> she berated herself. <They planned it as a rescue. Me…> Anger flashed through her small frame. <Who am I kidding? My plan would be, kick the door down, rush in, and start staking. I wouldn't have…> "Oh God," she whispered, feeling afraid of herself, "I wouldn't have cared about those people."
Tears started trickling down her cheeks. She felt like someone had slapped her in the face. Was she really that cold, that heartless? She looked up at the sky and for the first time in a long time, asked Someone, "Could I really have left those people in there?"
"No...I think not."
The cultured voice startled the Slayer and spurred her into action. She jumped to her feet and whipped out her borrowed sword. She clenched her jaw when she saw it was only…
She frowned, peering at him. "Are you my Jeeves or hers?"
The Watcher gave her an exasperated frown. "I shall never get used to that," he muttered. "The Rupert that came here is still on his mission. At the risk of making myself vulnerable to your juvenile wit, along with your scathing remarks, I'm 'yours.'"
The obvious fact that this Brit was still in tweed and not in that black body armor had given it away, as well. <I should've figured that!> She disgustedly put the sword away and leaned against the wall. She folded her arms and tilted her head to look at Jeeves. "The club blown to bits?"
"To put it mildly," he said dryly. He must've seen her eyes perk up. "That young witch from Colorado, what is her name again… Amy? Her idea of giving us the signal to fire the rocket launcher was casting a fireball from inside the club."
She felt her jaw drop open. She shook her head. "And people say I'm trigger happy."
"Yes. Well…" The old man gave her a kind look, one she hadn't seen very often during the last six years. "Slayer Summers, do you truly believe yourself capable of leaving behind the people we rescued, if you had been the one to raid the Bronze?"
Wish Buffy glared at him, but his quiet demeanor showed her that he wasn't judging her. She lowered her head. "I can't help it, Jeeves. After I let that girl die at the factory…"
"Could you have saved her?"
The question stopped her. "I don't know," she snapped, more harshly than she'd meant. She turned around and faced him. "The problem is that I didn't even think about it! I was there to kill the Master and that's what I focused on."
Library Guy seemed to think about it, too. "Perhaps," he allowed. "But based on what Oz and Larry told me about the battle before your disappearance, it seems to me that if you had tried to save her, you would never have had your shot at the Master. In fact, it's more likely his minions would have killed you in seconds. That young woman would still be dead, as would Oz, Larry, and every other human in the factory at the time."
The L.A. girl didn't like his logic, but she couldn't argue with it. Still, she grew angrier. "'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,' and all that? Bullshit!" She flicked her eyes at the ground. "And you know what freaks me out? The fact that it's me saying this, and not my Doublemint Twin."
Then Book Man snapped at her. "That was not what I meant, Ms. Summers. I would be the last person on Earth to tell you not to rescue a person in danger." His voice dropped. "What I meant, Slayer Summ…" He sighed tiredly, making her look at him. "What I meant, Buffy, was that you simply cannot expect to save everyone. Believe me when I say I learned this lesson the hard way, many years ago."
She eyed him angrily, her temper flaring again. "I lost my Mom five days after I was Chosen, you jerk!" she shouted, turning toward the door. "You wanna preach, find another choir!"
She stormed forward, passing the silent Watcher. As her fingers caressed the doorknob, his voice carried to her ears.
"I lost my father and the only woman I've ever loved in the same night."
Wish Buffy froze for several seconds, her fury ripped to shreds by the touches of grief in his quiet confession. Slowly, her hand left the doorknob and fell to her side.
Without turning around, because she didn't want to have to apologize, she asked, "Vamps?"
"Yes." She turned around at the answer, one word so full of grief and pride at the same time. She couldn't understand that. Jee--- Giles was looking up at the blue California sky while he cleaned his glasses.
Wish Buffy suddenly remembered how much she'd loved that sky before going to London three years ago, and then going to Cleveland, where a smaller Hellmouth lay. This was the first time she'd actually come "home" in nearly three years. "How did it happen?"
Wish Giles put his glasses back on and turned to her. "My father and my love died near Stonehenge. There's a Hellmouth there, like the one here in Sunnydale, or the one in Cleveland where you were based; just not as powerful. My father died when a vampire shot him through the lung with a crossbow. My lo…" She saw actual tears in his eyes. "My father somehow stayed alive, stayed alive long enough…" He stared at her with haunted eyes, showing her she wasn't the only one who'd lost someone they loved. "My father and my dear Lilly…"
"Lilly?" Wish Buffy asked, curious despite herself.
Wish Giles reached into his coat and pulled out a necklace. He opened what was obviously a locket. She walked up to him and looked at the picture inside. She saw that Jeeves was quite the hottie back in the day <Ewww to that thought, thank you!>, but the girl's face sparked a memory.
"I know her," Wish Buffy said, her mind drawing a blank on a name to go with the face. She'd seen her before.
"Her name was Lillian Fromer," Wish Giles said in that kind of voice Wish Buffy had only heard from people in movies. People so much in love or so much in pain, it made them remember things the way they'd wanted instead of the way they were.
But she realized who his girl was. "I know that name!" she blurted. "She…"
"Was my father's Slayer," Wish Giles finished. She watched him gaze at the black and white picture for a few more seconds before he put it away. "My father was Edwin Giles. He was her Watcher."
The rest of the memory Wish Buffy held about that Slayer came back in a rush. "They took out over a hundred vamps that night. Didn't they, like, use dynamite or something?"
"Grenades," Wish Giles said, a smile that was so sad, it made Wish Buffy choke a bit, coming to his face. "Let's just say that Dad brought home some… 'souvenirs' from a nearby British Army base."
"He used grenades," she said dully. "Since when do you Watcher types use stuff like that?"
Wish Giles muttered, "Since he believed more in keeping his Slayer alive than in what the Council laughingly calls, 'tradition.' Believe me, he hid his more… 'unconventional' weapons from the Council." After that small joke, she waited for him to continue. "He knew it was a 'suicide mission,' Buffy. He wanted to at least try to keep Lillian alive. So he used whatever edge he could give them." His eyes took on a faraway look and he said, "The night they'd left, I told Lillian I wanted to go with her. I was only sixteen, a year younger than she. Dad wouldn't hear of it. You see, Buffy, Lillian had the traditional Slayer upbringing."
"Meaning she'd been taken from her folks," Wish Buffy noted, sounding accusatory.
"She was rescued from an orphanage in East Germany that was under Communist control." He whispered, "My parents raised her as one of the family. We spent a great deal of time together, growing up, learning the same lessons if for different reasons. She was a potential Slayer. I was certain to become a Watcher."
"You two fell for each other."
Wish Buffy's shot was on target, because he nodded. He sighed and swallowed a sob. "I was so proud when we realized she'd indeed been Chosen. It didn't matter that the downside to this was that she would die young. We were so blind." He gave her a look that bespoke how bad he'd really had it for that Slayer. "I was such a young fool, I never told her how much I loved her."
"You were young. You were hot for each other," she countered. "You thought you'd live forever. Like I did until… I saw my Mom laying there." She stifled her own sob. She felt embarrassed at showing her own pain. She felt she was showing her weakness to the Watcher. "The stuff I'd studied said Lillian brought those vampires down herself. She…" <What am I DOING?!?> She was going over his girlfriend's dying like it was a history lesson! "Jee-Giles, I'm sorry! I didn't mean…"
"No, it's… all right." He gave her that self-deprecating grin that didn't fool her for a second. "Father and Lillian knew what they were doing. They refused to abandon each other. From what I know of that night myself, they sacrificed themselves to keep that vampire clan from opening that Hellmouth. He refused to abandon his Slayer; she refused to abandon her Watcher. At least I know they died together and… that they died well."
Wish Buffy stared at the ground and quietly asked, "Doesn't help much, does it?"
"No," he agreed. "I've buried many people, Buffy. Friends. Comrades. Young people I've come to admire, who give me hope that our fight is not in vain. People like Nancy and Cordelia."
"Her?!?" Wish Buffy growled, backing away from him. "She's the one who caused this mess!"
Wish Giles licked his lips. "And upon realizing it, she did everything she could to make things right. She came directly to me and tried to convince me of Anyanka's work." She looked at him in disbelief. She saw how his fists clenched in frustration. "At first I didn't believe her. And all that did was get that poor girl killed by Willow and Xander."
"She made a wish that got my Mom killed," Wish Buffy argued, although it sounded hollow. She felt her tears well up. "And you know what I really can't understand?"
Wish Giles was startled. "What, Buffy?"
The Slayer for this reality jerked a thumb at herself. "What's really sick is that even now, I don't blame her. I know what she did and it doesn't matter. I don't blame her for Mom." She turned away and closed her eyes. "I still blame me."
"She died trying to make things right, Buffy," he said again. "And there is more than enough blame to go around. I tried to reverse the spell and only made things permanent. I failed to undo the horror of the last three years. Including your Mother's death."
"Yeah, but it's not your fault I turned into a good little soldier." She straightened up and bitterly said, "You weren't there when I said screw feeling anything." She turned around and looked him in the eyes. "Don't blame yourself, Jeeves. You're not responsible for the way I am."
"I was supposed to be," he countered with regret she could see plastered on his face. "That was why I was sent here; to be your Watcher. But things worked out differently."
"I've seen how they could've worked out." She turned back toward the house and felt a twinge of jealousy toward the other Buffy. She'd seen how she and that Giles got along. She growled, "I just wish I'd had something like that. Maybe I wouldn't freak out at the sight of those people… those people lying there, maybe dying."
Her temporary boss asked, "Do you really think they aren't… 'freaking out?'"
"You tell me," she scoffed. She waved an arm at the door. "Other Me's got everything under control in there. Hell, her boyfriend left her in charge. She's me, and here she is playing the Duke of Wellington."
"The Duke of Wellington?" he asked, a bit of humor in his question.
She flashed him a tiny smirk. "Like you'd know about American military guys." The smile faded from her lips and eyes. "The point is, I see she's been doing this all this time, while I've been more worried about trying to set the Slayer record for undead body counts for three years."
"If I might be allowed to hazard a guess, based on my own observations of you and your double," the Old Guy said, collecting himself by taking a deep breath, "I highly doubt that she is not taking every scrape and bruise personally, but being in command is her priority, thus she can focus on keeping people safe, rather than agonizing over something neither of you have any control over." He walked up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "When it comes down to it, I think the greatest difference between you and this other Buffy is that she's had this support network, her friends, Watcher, and the others, for quite some time now. You haven't had that support, Buffy, and thus you have had no one to share this trying existence with you. We've had ourselves the last two years; Oz, Larry, Nancy, and myself. We mourned Nancy and Cordelia all week while trying to find a way to reverse the wish." He paused. "I became rip roaring drunk over losing the girls, Buffy. Like you, I took their deaths personally. I also worried about losing you."
"You're kidding," she blurted, turning around. It made his hand drop away. "After the grief I gave you, you actually care...about me?"
"Of course I do," he assured her, still looking somewhat sheepish about his confession. "Buffy, you and I both have paid a tremendous cost for what we do. Your mother, my father, my Lillian. I believe that may be why you're asking yourself these questions about what you would have done during a raid. Because, like me, you've seen the human cost; the human side of Slaying." He squared himself and she wondered what he was going to say next. "And for what it's worth, that you were asking yourself these questions rather than just dismissing the people we rescued, shows that you have a conscience, one that I think would not have let you leave them there." He nodded as if he was completely sure of himself before staring at her again. "You have a good heart, Buffy Summers. Don't ever doubt that… or yourself."
She didn't know what to say about his support, or how his beliefs helped to work on killing her own doubts. So, she settled for something simple. She swallowed and said, "Thanks… Giles," and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. His unshaven three-day old beard felt like the bristles of a stiff brush against her lips, but she was glad because it felt good to feel again. As she pulled back, she saw how flushed his face had become, causing her to smile slyly at him. "Come on, Book Guy. Let's go back inside and give those folks a hand."
The Sunnydale Sewer System
Underneath Vampire-Run Warehouse
Sunnydale, California (the Wishverse)
13 December 1998
Scully’s nerves became even more taut as the Knight General incredulously asked, "Would you care to repeat that, Mister Giles?"
She looked over at Mulder, who was sharing a smile with Duncan over Darius’ frustration. Keeping her eyes on the passageway she’d been assigned to guard, she asked, "What’s going on?"
Connor grumbled, "It’s all Duncan’s fault! He’s the one who trained that Boy Scout and sent him off to save the world every month!"
Scully grinned a bit, knowing that the more experienced Immortals were trying to keep her and her partner from feeling overwhelmed by this situation. <Vampires,> she thought, her grip tightening on the government issue Sig Sauger she carried. <Mulder and I are hunting actual vampires.>
The devout Catholic glanced around just to make sure no one else was letting anyone or anything sneak up on them. She kicked herself for thinking that the three elder Immortals, having a combined total of about four thousand years of experience, would need her to make sure they were safe.
She glanced back at Darius, who shook his head and spoke into the radio. "So what are we supposed to do for cover fire?"
Duncan walked up to the Knight General as the former monk turned to his team. "What’s going on, Darius?"
The old man sighed and looked each Immortal in the eye. "It would seem that we may have a hidden ally amongst the soulless vampires. Another Immortal who’s come to Sunnydale."
Duncan sighed. "And what is he doing here?"
Dana watched as Darius listened to the radio for a second. The former monk glanced at all of them. "From what our telepathic magus says, he’s here at the behest of someone who wants information on the Master."
"Any idea who?" Duncan asked, having a tired look on his face. Darius grunted and said, "The Kindred’s Prince of San Francisco, apparently. Tobabaird didn’t dare scan the man’s mind too deeply. He can only assure us he’d be an ally in this. He’s going to try and contact him mentally so that he won’t panic when he feels us coming."
After Duncan gave a very short overview on these so-called Kindred, a type of souled vampire that could be much like normal people, Scully shared a look with Mulder, who was getting that childlike joyful look he got, whenever he discovered something new about the paranormal. <It’s going to be one of those days,> she muttered. <It’s bad enough that we found out we’re married in another reality. Now we’re finding out that there’s another Immortal working for a different kind of vampire.> She turned back to Darius. "What are we going to do?"
With a thoughtful look on his face, Darius answered, "We’ll go in as planned, but Agents Mulder and Scully will guard our rear and try to get this unknown Immortal to join us."
Scully’s stomach flip-flopped at that suggestion, because this was a wild card they didn’t need with the fate of a town at stake. A quick glance around told the young Immortal that the others were just as uncertain as she was about this idea.
It was Duncan who said, "Then maybe we should go in ‘gold.’"
Darius considered the idea, rubbing his chin. Scully met his gaze as he looked each member of the assault team in the eyes. "It couldn’t hurt," he admitted. "It might put the fear of the Almighty in them if they’re old enough."
Duncan nodded and pulled out his sword, the double of the one Scully had seen in St. Wolf’s hands. She shivered at the eerie blue glow as Duncan slyly said, "I’m pretty sure that the Immortal, if he’s old enough, will have heard of this."
Scully waited for their commander for this raid to make his decision. She hoped it wouldn’t be that different from raids she’d been on in the past while with the Bureau.
"All right," he finally said, his face set in a mask of determination. "Duncan, you’ll go first. Connor and I will follow…" He now looked at her and Mulder. "Agents Mulder and Scully, as you’re partners, you’ll go in last and handle the rear defense. It’s just like fighting Immortals; go for their heads." He favored her with a smile that brought to mind her pastor. "And remember, with these vampires, killing them is doing God’s work."
Although only slightly reassured by that, Scully nodded. She was sure her partner was doing the same, albeit with his goofy smirk on his face. For herself, she sent up a silent prayer that they’d succeed.
Scully reached ground level and waited, holding her breath in slight fear of the superb hearing vampires were supposed to have. She kept her eyes on Duncan, who had sheathed his sword to avoid its telltale blue light from betraying their presence.
He stopped about ten feet short of the end of the long hallway that led to the sewer access. Darius and Connor stopped five feet behind him, with her and Mulder the same distance behind them. She waited for Duncan’s command to start the actual combat portion of the raid. She ruminated over how different this was from her usual duties. Sure, she had participated in raids with other Agents before, but nothing like this!
Duncan held a hand up and he slowly but surely began drawing his katana out of wherever it was kept when he wasn’t using the weapon. The light blue glow shaded Duncan’s body in its light and he slowly raised his hand further. Scully knew this was it; the moment his hand dropped, they were charging in and taking out the vampires.
Quick as a flash, the arm came down and the younger MacLeod broke into a run, covering the short distance with a speed that was almost ridiculous. Darius and Connor quickly followed and she and her partner waited half a second before joining the chase. As she burst into the room, she saw that the vampires hadn’t been as caught by surprise as they’d hoped, but it didn’t matter; she watched in amazement as Duncan did a forward somersault over two vampires and spun around into a graceful crouch, slicing across their backs with Demon Slayer, only to bring his blade back up and drive it halfway to the hilt into the stomach of a third one.
He withdrew the Sword of Destiny and decapitated the vampire with one smooth motion. As she stood there, temporarily mesmerized with the skill Duncan had shown, her rational mind put it into simple terms. <He does have four hundred years more experience than you do.>
A vampire tried to rush her but she reacted with years of instinct homed by FBI and Immortal training. The Agent raised her right hand and coolly fired two rounds into the vampire’s center mass. The soulless breed disintegrated before her very eyes, but another undead man took his place. <No chance of him being the Immortal,> she noted, seeing the ridged eyebrows and still feeling the Buzz in her mind. <So he’s dust.>
Scully swung her katana with practiced ease, despite it being wielded by her off hand. Amanda had taken care of that while training her and Mulder. Darius’ earlier advice about treating the vampires like Immortals paid off; her blade cleaved through its neck and reduced the enemy numbers by one more.
She looked around and her heart froze; a beefy vampire was charging Mulder from behind. "MULDER!" she screamed, even though she knew it was too late for either of them to react and shoot him down. She started to move despite the knowledge that it might open her to a blindside attack; she had to help her partner.
The giant vampire stiffened suddenly as his head exploded in a shower of sticky red splatter and gray and white chunks. Scully knew the effects of Magnum rounds when she saw them. She aimed her gun in that direction, waiting for the shooter to reveal himself. He did and Scully finally felt the Buzz fade from her mind; this was their Immortal. Before they could exchange words of any kind, his dark brown eyes registered a warning and Scully knew what it meant.
She wheeled around, her Sig Sauer coming up and barking death twice in the time it took the vampire to register her actions. Three more rounds, two from Mulder’s gun and one from the silenced pistol carried by the stranger, slammed into the vampire’s chest. She watched with a scientist’s detached fascination as every part of the vampire, even the parts of his chest flying out his back, dissipated into dust granules. Dana turned her attention back to where it belonged. Mulder moved closer, tightening the circle’s rear portion. She glanced at the man who’d blown his cover to help them and sent a short, silent nod in his direction; there was no hiding his true purpose from the vampire now. The dark-skinned Immortal moved to join them, but was intercepted by two of their mutual targets. Scully tried to aim her gun at one to even the odds, but the aid turned out not to be needed by their erstwhile ally.
The Immortal leaped into the air with the grace of a gazelle, leading Scully to wonder why she’d reflexively conjured up that analogy. The man snapped out a kick while in midair, catching the lead vampire in the jaw and sending him staggering back into the other. He extended his right arm while reaching behind his back with his left. As the two vampires tried to untangle themselves and get back into the action, the unknown Immortal fired another round into the vampire on top.
Scully shivered at the location; the base of the man’s spine. Even if he’d been a living, breathing human being, that bullet would probably have left him crippled for life. Her eyes shifted and she helped out, firing a bullet into the second vampire’s leg, the only target she could cleanly hit at that second. It wouldn’t kill him, but it would surely slow him down.
The African-American’s left hand came back out holding a half-spear with a wicked looking, leaf-shaped point. He easily replaced his pistol and spun it in his hands. He jabbed down, hitting the paralyzed vampire in precisely the spot he had to, to pierce his heart. To her surprise, the vampire shrieked in even greater agony and disintegrated. The Immortal drew his weapon back as the one she’d shot in the leg stood up shakily. He immediately swung the half-spear like it was a quarterstaff, slicing the tip of the sharp end across its throat. That undead suffered the same fate, although Scully could not possibly figure out why nor could she figure out how what appeared to be a small cut had managed to decapitate him. It also sent a shiver down her spine; after all, she was an Immortal.
Their rear secured, Dana turned her attention back to their comrades and watched in awe as Duncan, Connor, and Darius showed exactly why the Society of Watchers considered them some of the top contenders for the Prize.
The vampires nearest Duncan shied away from his glowing katana. Some had recognition in their eyes while others simply held terror in theirs. Their attempts to retreat got them nothing but trapped against the blacked out windows or in corners, making them easy pickings for blasts of magic coming from the spell casters outside. <Obviously they found a way to see through the paint.> Even when the merest of wounds appeared on a target of Duncan’s masterpiece weapon, the wounded crumbled to dust because of the powerful magic in his weapon.
Mulder whistled at the display of skill and muttered, "One little, two little, three little dust bunnies…"
Scully growled and elbowed Mulder in the gut before shooting another vampire attempting to get by them and to the sewers.
Connor didn’t have a magical sword at his disposal, but then again he didn’t need it. His flashing scimitar cut down as many vampires as Duncan’s weapon, even if they didn’t dust on contact like Demon Slayer caused its victims to do. Connor used the seventy-five years of experience he had over Duncan to good effect, literally making vampires miss their attacks by dancing and dodging their clumsy attempts to drive him to the ground. Two quick slashes, forehand and backhand, sent another pair of vampires back to Hell as their heads fell off.
But Darius was putting the Highlanders to shame in terms of pure intimidation. He didn’t rely on grace or athleticism; no, the oldest among them used his brute power, commanding presence, the Grail symbol on his armor, and his hand and a half sword to cut a wide swath through the Master’s minions.
With every two-handed swing, one undead flunkie vanished forever. With every slash, the crowd of hideous faces backed further away or diminished in numbers. Scully saw that there was a slight danger of the three splitting too far apart. The thought must have occurred to the unnamed Immortal because he snapped, "One of you take targets of opportunity on the right. I shall do so on the left! The other, continue guarding our rear!"
Scully promptly did as the man with the rich baritone had told her. She aimed her pistol and sent two rounds into a vampire far enough away from Connor to eliminate any chance of friendly fire. The sounds of fire coming from her firearm played havoc on her ears, as did the lightning bolt that suddenly ripped through the windows, enveloping three vamps clustered together at that area. But it was a small price to pay to finish off the vampires in the lair.
The dust finally settled, literally and proverbially, and all six remaining warriors searched the shadows for any more soulless vampires. Once they mutually confirmed that they had indeed emptied this particular nest, Scully turned to the matter of their unexpected helper.
Her first instinct was to cover him just in case, but he was already putting away his firearm, calmly and professionally.
But of course, her paranoid partner wasn’t as trusting. Mulder kept his Sig Sauer out and in a two-handed grip, which would allow him to bring it up to cover the Immortal. The Immortal in question seemed less than impressed with the subtle threat on Mulder’s part. Scully looked to Darius, who kept his dust and blood-covered blade handy but off to the side. Apparently, he was going to be the one to question this Immortal.
Darius carefully eyed the Immortal stranger, attempting to take a measure of the man. He pursed his lips as he noted the proud bearing he carried with ease; it almost hid the deadly warrior inside. But what nothing could hide was the aura of age that he unconsciously exuded. As someone who had encountered countless numbers of beings in his life of three thousand years, the one-time monk knew how to read people.
"Thank you for your aid," he said congenially. It seemed a safe way to break the ice. "You made this raid much easier for us."
The man kept his expression carefully subdued, but the smallest bit of cooperative spirit flashed through his dark eyes, and he gave a small dip of his head as a bow. "I am only thankful that your Sidhe ally saw fit to give me fair warning that the Knight General of the Order of the Grail was personally leading an assault on this lair." The man looked around at the others and asked, "But I ask you, what are your intentions here? I know of no other Immortals in Sunnydale at this time."
The unspoken insinuation was clear, although Darius was too polite to mention it. He also didn’t mention that he and the others knew this man didn’t believe for a second that they were here for Quickenings. Especially since the symbol of the Order was plainly visible on his armor.
"Instead of dropping obviously false hints and dancing around the issue, perhaps we could simply share intelligence and see if we have a mutual cause," Darius suggested, attempting to combine the presence of a commander with the fatherly attitude of a confessor priest. He decided that minimal introductions might make things proceed a bit smoother. "As you have no doubt guessed, I am Darius, Knight General of the Order. With me are Connor and Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, and Fox Mulder and Dana Scully."
The man seemed to recognize Connor and Duncan’s names and probably their reputations, but he focused on Fox and Dana. "Your pistols are government issue, are they not?"
Darius regarded Mulder, hoping he wouldn’t make light of this possible alliance. He was smirking, but not in a way that seemed provocative. "Agent Scully and I run the FBI’s X-Files Division. We investigate cases involving the paranormal, like aliens, vampires… Immortals."
The African Immortal’s eyes shifted from caution to amusement. "Hiding in plain sight, as it were?" he asked simply. Mulder nodded in agreement and Darius felt a bit of camaraderie pass between them. He didn’t understand it, but he assumed it was a good thing.
"That," Scully replied, "and there’s the fact that we’re the FBI’s Most Unwanted because of how we work our cases." Darius relaxed immensely; the young ones were loosening up.
The Knight General saw that Mulder, Scully, and the stranger were sizing each other up, but only as to how they measured up as warriors. Darius went on, "They are not here in any official capacity, my friend. We had almost no notice before being summoned here. Our complete group was, to say the least, hastily assembled. But what we lack in unit cohesion, we make up with skill, courage, and a determination to see the Master cast down into the depths of Hell."
The oldest Immortal of the six watched the man’s eyes flare with a slight touch of the zealot, which could be a double-edged sword. It was the zeal that he’d once possessed, which had launched a warrior’s campaign that had almost reached the edges of the Atlantic Ocean.
"In that case, Darius," he said, replacing his half-spear, "our purposes are extremely mutual. As your Seelie friend hopefully informed you, I came here at the request of the Prince of San Francisco, a good man for a vampire. I am known to some of the Camarilla for my cause, so I was asked to evaluate the Master, his minions, and to decide if I should eliminate him as a threat to their Masquerade." He stopped to sweep his eyes around the warehouse. "Some of the Kindred actually care about humanity and have started fighting the soulless ones. I knew it would not be a simple mission, but now it may be completed after all."
"Would you be willing to accompany us to our command post, to share your knowledge of the situation with us?" he asked, knowing of the windfall of information this Immortal might have through his Kindred contacts. "You have my word, the solemn promise of the Knight General of the Order, that you will be granted safe conduct and be treated as an ally in the battle to come. You will be safe from any of the Immortals there, who all see that there are things more important than the Game."
The Immortal slowly let his obsidian eyes slide from left to right, carefully examining each Immortal and weighing his options. In but a few seconds, he nodded his agreement.
"I will accompany you, Darius." Darius liked how he merely stated the name, without any awe or fear. Obviously this was a warrior who was comfortable in the company of other warriors.
"Perhaps together, we can end the threat posed by this soulless menace."
With that, Darius sheathed his sword and led the warriors out the front door to unite with their friends.
317 Bryant Terrace
Sunnydale, California (the Wishverse)
13 December 1998
Shutting out the buzzing conversations that she couldn’t distinguish anyway, Amy started walking up the stairs. She hoped to catch a break from the medical help and leave it all behind; the discussions of the first two raiding groups to return to the house, the wounded covering the floor from wall to wall, and the images running through her head.
It just pissed her off that much more, that the memories wouldn’t go away or allow her thoughts about the vampire Willow’s kiss to stay in the forefront. She couldn’t banish the one image, even for one moment of blessed peace, which kept haunting her and totally pissing her off at this soulless shitheads.
The memory of a girl her own age being used as a freaking beer tap kept driving her nuts. She was sorely tempted to go out hunting on her own, to let these vampire assholes see what a Madison girl from New Salem could do. But she knew the difference between being angry and being an idiot. So she just had to deal with it and try not to make any mistakes when the time came for her to take part in the big fight.
She chose a bedroom door at random and pushed it open, hoping to find some privacy. But she wasn’t lucky this time; because a tall African-American guy, a nice-looking hunk, was in there checking his weapons. The second she walked in, the guy (her brain remembered who and what he was; he’d caused a stir by helping the Knight General’s group) started to reach for a gun. Once he saw her and recognition lit in his eyes, he fluidly straightened up and greeted her.
"My apologies," that sexy baritone purred.
<Man, this guy is… way hubba-hubba.> But she had her heart set on two kids her own age, not an ancient Immie. "That’s okay. If you’d picked up the gun, I’d just have hit you with a fireball or something." She pretended to think about it and smiled. "I know. Teleport you about five thousand feet in the air and let you go skydiving without a parachute. That wouldn’t leave any… permanent marks."
He searched her eyes for a moment before a tiny smile curved those nice lips of his. "So you are the one who destroyed the Bronze from the inside?"
"Yeah, that was me," she shyly confessed. She wondered, after the fact, if it had been such a bright idea. But she’d needed to do something in that second. She told the Immortal, "But I guess I could’ve been a little more careful. I didn’t even think about people being outside or across the street."
"But you will surely think about it the next time. So in the end you have learned from your actions." He sounded really wise then, but he added, "And it lessened the amount of work we have to do, to end Sunnydale’s terror. The people have suffered long enough."
Amy felt a rush of anger again, but she agreed with him. The guy asked, "You surely heard why I am here, so if I may be so bold as to ask, how did you come to be part of this assault force?"
She rolled her eyes and decided, the heck with it. She plopped her butt (no longer exposed thanks to some elven magical repairs) on the edge of the bed. The redheaded witch folded her arms and told him about the destiny spell and how her Mom had unintentionally been included in it. She didn’t know whether to be insulted or grateful at the humor he apparently saw in the results of her desire to find her path in life.
He finished his pretty dignified chuckles and said, "Well, as they used to say, one should be careful what one…"
"Don’t
say it!"
The Immie African guy looked confused. "Do not say what?"
"We are not using that word around here, buddy!" she snapped again, eyes flashing. When Immie Spy looked only more dense, Amy sighed and spelled it out. Literally.
"W. I. S. H. We do not say that word."
It didn’t help him figure it out, which only made the Colorado native moan. "Gods, guy, how do you think this town ended up in this mess in the first place?" She gave him a very brief recap of what she knew about the whole vengeance demon angle and how it involved the Slayer and Willow and Xander, especially Willow and Xander’s stories, because it hurt to think about them suffering the fate this new reality in Sunnydale had forced on them (at least to her perceptions). She was pleasantly surprised to see he followed the storyline without his eyes becoming glazed over; it actually made sense to him.
"I see," he said, summing up that he did see the point. "I know of vengeance demons, of course. I have walked this Earth for many lifetimes. And… there have been times when a desire for revenge clouded my judgment."
Amy chewed on that for a second. "How do you deal with it? Wanting to get even instead of helping out because it’s right."
"As best you can, young witch," he said with a shrug. Seemed there were limits to how much living forever could teach you. "As best you can."
Amy crossed her legs and looked over the weapons lying mere inches from her. "So do you get spy missions often, or were the Primogens that worried about this Master guy that they sent you instead of one of their Brujah or Gangrel muscle boys?"
He glanced at her, a little surprised by her asking him that. "You know more about Camarilla than some, young witch."
"Puh-leeze. And the name’s Amy. I only know the general stuff; clans, ranks, and a tiny bit about how the clans get along with each other. Besides, I’m from New Salem; ‘weird’ is normal where I come from." Amy gave him a critical look. "But you seem pretty… cultured. If you were a Kindred I’d think you were a Ventrue or Tremere."
"Thank you," he chuckled. His eyes fluttered shut as Amy smiled at his good attitude for an old fart. "In fact, it was a Kindred trying to turn me into one of them that triggered my Immortality."
"What?!?" the startled witch asked. "You’re joking!"
"No, I am afraid not." He sighed and picked up that half-spear that Amy could tell had some strong sun magic in it. "He was an
Assamite; a Kindred assassin. I’m sure you’ve heard of them." She nodded in agreement; Assamites thought that other Kindred were of inferior
bloodlines and worked as hired assassins to kill off their inferiors. "Well, it seemed that this Assamite was not typical of his clan. He saw the
soulless breeds as true abominations…"
"Well, he’s right about that," Amy noted with a small grin tugging at her lips.
The hunky Immie shrugged as if he couldn’t argue the point. "In any event, he tried to Embrace me in order to have a protégé in hunting the demonspawn. Once he realized what had really happened to me, well… let us say that I learned his lessons even better than he had hoped."
"You killed him?" Amy asked, her heart growing colder.
He seemed surprised at that, until he started laughing. "No, no! Not at all!" He sighed and set the half-spear down. "You see Amy, I was a vampire hunter even as a mortal; in fact, I worked alongside the Slayer of the time." Although she knew he hoped to hide it, she caught the flash of emotion that flickered across his face. As it was, he told her, "After she was lost to me, I continued following her example, in her memory. I fought vampires where I found them until one night, this Kindred hunting the same soulless ones decided he was lonely." He laughed. "He was a good man, at least I think so." He jerked his head a bit but settled down; it was just probably from feeling the Buzz from a nearby Immortal. "But since I was now Immortal, you could say that being able to meet evil vampires on more equal footing was… somewhat pleasing."
"Yes, I’m sure you found it to be a good thing," an amused voice said from the doorway.
Amy whirled around, a holding spell on her lips before she recognized the face. "Sorry to frighten you, Amy," Gabrielle cheerfully noted.
The teen witch shrugged once she settled back down. "S’okay. How’re things going down there?" She so didn’t want to see more broken bodies.
"They’re a tad less chaotic now that we’ve got the wounded stabilized," the Immie blonde answered. But Amy could see the anger in those baby blues; she was just as pissed about the injured guys and girls as she was. "Your mother’s looking for you, so I offered to see where you’d gotten off to. She said you and she could joint-teleport some medical supplies in from the Order’s headquarters?"
Despite the simmering dread she felt at having to go back into the breach of wounded, Amy was too good-hearted not to help. She slid off the bed and started for the door. "All right, I’ll get right down there. But it’d be nice if the elves can help; it’ll save me and Mom some power."
"I think they’d be glad to help," Gabrielle told her. "Now scoot."
The look Gabrielle suddenly gave the other Immie raised Amy’s suspicions. She stopped, gave one quick glance at the other Immie, and saw the same look in his eyes. She rolled her eyes at how they stared at each other and muttered, "What the Hell’s he got that I don’t?"
She walked out, heading back to triage. She hoped she wouldn’t have to watch anyone pass on.
Gabrielle’s teeth were grinding like crazy. <Geez loueez! That girl thinks…> She sighed and hoped her cheeks were returning to their normal color. She really couldn’t blame that Amy; it was so obvious she was somewhat interested in the Willow and Xander native to this reality, and thus jealous of her and Sonja for last night’s little encounter.
She gave the other Immortal a glare and waggled her finger at him. "Not a word, buster."
The African warrior snorted in disdain. "That threat might have more weight behind it if you were this reality’s version of Gabrielle." He held a hand up to keep her from giving the first smart remark that came to her mind. "And I do not have any curiosity as my double’s life story. The fact that you recognized me states clearly enough that… that Alika was not alone in your world, either."
"I still can’t believe it though," she confessed, shaking her head but finding this a bit funny, "that both of us knew each other when we were still thinking we’d die in battle, saving people from Bacchae or worse, the Romans." But Gabrielle couldn’t help it, despite any tension from this little meeting. She walked up to him and held out her hand. "And the very same look in your eyes tells me that you are much the same kind of man, as the Jac Aynon I knew so long ago."
Jac stared at her for a few seconds, before the serene mask he’d kept up since arriving at the house vaporized and he smiled warmly at her. His dry warm fingers curled around hers and they warmly greeted each other as old friends, despite the difference of realities.
Gabrielle relished it, because it could be considered a miniature reunion of sorts. But she did tell the African, "For what it’s worth, the Jac Aynon of my Earth was a good man and a fine hero."
The smile shrank the slightest, but in the way that suggested he was merely bemused by the description of "her" Jac. "And I am fairly certain that the Gabrielle of this reality is running around somewhere, right now, making miserable the life of some evil doer."
"Too bad I’m not here," she said cheekily. "But I didn’t want to reminisce about old times, pal. I wanted to talk about the battle to come. Are you game for a little tactical discussion?"
"I like to think I’ve learned a few things about military battles over the years." Jac went through the motions of putting away his two pistols, which had special barrels to accommodate their silencers. The Battling Bard could see that he was furiously considering the situation. "I assume you know the full complement of this army better than I. I was given the ‘whirlwind’ tour, so to speak. What forces are at the Wanderer’s disposal?"
"The core group from my reality consists of several Immortals, Amazons, their empowered mates, an Immortal Slayer, some Seelie Knights, and one team of Federal Agents I’d set against any pair of fighters short of me and Xena." She ran through her limited knowledge of the fighters from his native reality. "Besides the Hunters from the Society of Watchers and a dozen Knights of the Grail, not to mention the Immortals you’ve already met, we have this world’s versions of Buffy, Willow, Xander, Giles, Oz, Larry, Amy, and Angel, as well as Amy’s mother. They have experience individually but, for the most part, they’re not a team in any sense of the word. They’ve just come together and aren’t the people I know and work with. But we do have the heavy hitters; Hercules, two Aderrons, Goodfellow, and his Genie friend. I’m of the mind that Steve plans on them being our shock troops or the ace up his sleeve if we need them."
Jac’s eyes were flicking minutely, a clear indication to those who knew him, even casually, that the gears inside his head were grinding away. He was crunching numbers and personnel against what he knew of the Master’s group.
"An impressive complement, even considering what little I know of the people in general. I think I can see enough from the way they carry themselves to know that they can inflict a grave amount of damage upon the Master’s army." He paused to consider something, if the way his forehead suddenly wrinkled was a good sign. Gabby felt she knew what he was about to ask. He looked at her, a mix of curiosity and cautious hope on his ebony face. "Would it be possible to join this group for the battle to come, Gabrielle? I would enjoy, at least this once, the chance to say ‘screw it’ and instead of hunting alone…" A look of serenity settled over Jac’s face. "It would do my heart good to fight alongside friends new and old, for the common good. To be a hero again."
She knew why he’d hesitated. "Even alongside the Slayer?" she asked with a heartfelt sympathy. He straightened up and she knew that he didn’t want it known that he’d once loved the first Slayer of them all. Some pains were private, and best borne alone. Or at least within a tight circle of friends. "Even though it will remind you of your lost love, you banish your pain to aid her sister in destiny."
He scoffed but she took no offense, because it was good-natured. "Bards," he snorted.
"And don’t you forget it," she teased him. He smiled sadly and she assured him, "We need every fighter we can get our hands on, Jac. I’m sure Steve will find a spot for you that’ll put you in the thick of things."
The man who’d been her Alika’s partner in more ways than one ran a hand through his short, curly hair. "Trusting an American, demon-hunting, ex-Green Beret who’s wet behind the ears compared to us, to decide where to put me in a fight against vampires. If it weren’t for the fact that he carried three mystical relics, I might find the idea… amusing."
The last Queen of the Amazons chuckled; it was good to know there were people besides her, Sonja, and JP that didn’t automatically assume Steve was such hot shit because of his reputation. She graced this Jac with the warm smile she’d always been famous for. "Well, look at the bright side, Jac. You won’t be the only one of the Immortal persuasion fighting this fight; besides the regular Immortals, Willow, Xander, and Angel have proven worth their weight in gold with the information they’ve given us."
Jac’s expression cooled a bit, which puzzled her until she realized he knew who they were. <So, the Kindred were pretty up to date on their intel regarding the local vampires.> He folded his arms and gazed at the weapons strewn across the bed. "I was told that Angelus, Willow, and Xander have had their souls restored, so the fact that they are soulless breed no longer matters to me. Actually, Gabrielle, I feel… pity for them. Having to live with the knowledge of what the demons inside them did to innocents, and having to share their bodies with the demons animating them…"
He stopped and she saw a flash of anger in his expression. "But something I will keep private between us, as I do not wish to cause any tension amongst our ranks…" He stared her down and she saw he was including her in those he was less than happy with. "I do not like people… what is the American phrase? Oh yes. I do not like them shoveling this bullshit about achieving redemption for their past sins. They have nothing to be redeemed for, Gabrielle. Remember, a god of my people told me the truth about demonspawn vampires. How can people demean the sacrifice of the spirits of the Irishman and the children, who surely chose to return from their blessed afterlife, by saying they can try to make up for ‘their’ demon’s sins? That is cruel beyond reckoning, my friend."
The favorite daughter of Potadeia suffered an instant of temper before she determined that Jac was actually defending the trio of resouled vamps. She did tell him though, "Jac, not everyone here has had the benefit of having their Sun God personally give them the whole ‘the world is far older than you know’ spiel and getting special gifts to fight the walking dead on equal terms. Keep in mind, for some of these people, they’re kids or adults who’ve grown up in this town and have suffered for three years. They’re not going to be able to forgive and forget instantly; the demons who controlled Xander and Willow racked up a four-digit body count in two years. They’ll have to work at it. After all, we’re only human."
He was silent for a moment. "Point taken, Gabrielle." He had the grace to know he wasn’t perfectly on point with his argument, either. "You’d think that at our age, we would know better than to consider only one point of view."
"You do, Jac. You just sometimes consider one side of the argument longer than others. Name one person who isn’t guilty of that
sin."
He shook his head and they both laughed. There was no bet there.
"So what happens now?" he asked, picking up his spear and shoving it down the special sheath inside the back of his coat.
Gabrielle folded her arms and licked her lips. "We wait for the other groups to return, we figure out where we stand on the opposition, and then we plan accordingly. We have enough tacticians to handle that without any trouble."
"Good. Then let us hope that for once, the Fates smile upon us and scowls upon our foes." He offered his hand and she gladly grasped his forearm in an old Amazon grip. "As the saying goes… Today is a good day to die. But let the only ones who do, be those to whom it is a temporary inconvenience."
The Factory
Sunnydale, California (the Wishverse)
13 December 1998
"Would you care to repeat that?"
Heinrich Joseph Nest knew that what his minion had just reported was the truth; he knew better than to doubt something of this nature, especially in the panic that the boy had delivered the news. He folded his long, clawed fingers together and looked at the newly arrived Darla and Luke, who were also concerned by this information. Darla, in particular, seemed devastated that her favorite playground, the Bronze, was no more.
"Patrick," he said, his soft tone not taking anything away from the tightly controlled menace he always kept in every voice and action, "tell me exactly who these people said they were. I trust you, it is important."
"Yes, Master," the runner groveled. Despite the fact that he’d run back here like a spineless weasel, the Master approved of his actions. After all, if not for Patrick, he would still be in the dark about these new allies the Slayer had apparently found. From his kneeling position, the neophyte stammered, "Their leader identified himself as Darius, the Knight General of the Order of the Grail. His allies were two men named MacLeod, and two Agents with the FBI. The spy sent by the Kindred said his mission was to take you from us and… he mentioned someone called ‘She.’ I do not know anything more than that."
"Very well. You did the right thing." He looked to Darla and Luke, then past them to his hired assassins. "Now, in the old days, a lesser leader would kill the messenger for the bad tidings he brought. But because of our young servant, we now have information that the Slayer hoped to keep secret. And while killing the messenger might bring some satisfaction…" He cocked his head as if thinking, then with blinding speed reached out, grabbed Patrick’s throat, lifted him two feet off the ground, and snapped his neck with a flick of his wrist. "Then again, sometimes some satisfaction is better than none at all."
"Master," Luke asked, his body betraying his desire to go out and slaughter the mortals, "allow me to fight these puny humans who would dare harm our brethren."
Despite the fact that Luke had not lost a battle in living memory (if one discounted that little episode in Madrid where the man caught the fearsome warrior asleep), Nest knew better than to send his best warrior out into the unknown. "No, my vessel, no. You are too valuable here at my side. After all, I would like to know more about the Slayer’s pathetic little army."
"That’s easily taken care of," the assassin calling himself Kronos said. Luke growled at the human’s interruption of what was surely a private conversation, but the Master knew the killer knew things that even he did not.
"You know of the men accompanying the Knight General?" Despite himself, the Master felt some slight twinge of uncertainty over the fact that a single Slayer had somehow managed to contact the head of the Order itself. "Pray tell, what do you know?"
"First of all, Darius himself is a threat. Besides being the Knight General of the Order, he’s a former monk, a holy man. He could give the people of this town faith, which is the last thing you need them to have." Kronos rubbed his chin and shuddered, which impressed upon him the gravity of the situation. "I don’t know if you’re old enough, Master, but do you remember the story of the General Darius, who vowed to lead his army to the shores of the sea?"
"I remember," he admitted. It was a thrilling tale to one with plans such as his. "He conquered three quarters of Europe before…" He stopped as he made the connection. "This is the same Darius? How is that possible?"
"The Order has the Grail," the Greek assassin said without any hesitation. The Master had to admire that he didn’t seemed that impressed with the information he was giving out. "He’s surely drunk from it. But it’s the Scots you should be worried about. Both are dangerous warriors on their own, but the younger MacLeod, Duncan, carries the sword your people call Demon Slayer."
That got the Master’s attention even more than the story about Darius and the Order. But instead of fear, he felt the rage beginning to demand release. He granted it a partial pardon and bellowed, "WHAT?!?"
"I’ve had the misfortune of encountering that MacLeod from time to time. He’s a master of Zen Sword and kenjitsu." He looked straight at Luke and added, "You’re a warrior, so what do you think about a man who’s mastered the arts of the samurai and wields one of the nine Swords of Destiny? Is he one to be taken lightly?"
"No," the Master answered for his favorite son, the one who’d served as the vessel during the Harvest. "I do not like this development, to say the least. So therefore, I think a change of plans is in order."
"What do you mean, Master?" his right hand, Darla, asked him with a devilish smile.
He looked at his two pupils, spent a second to lament the apparent loss of his dear Willow and Xander, and then looked down at the floor, as if trying to see through the solid concrete.
"I think it’s time we considered finishing a project of ours. Or at least, bringing it a little closer to completion." He returned his malevolent gaze to Luke and Darla, whose eyes gleamed in understanding.
"You mean…" If she’d been human, Darla would have been breathing heavily.
"I do, my sweet," he said, giving her a paternal rubbing of the cheek.
The other assassin, Ramirez, seemed very curious and amused by the apparent plans for dealing with the interlopers. "This sounds like fun. If you don’t mind my asking, what’s this ‘project’ you plan on completing to deal with the Order and the MacLeods? Keep in mind, we’d handle the Highlanders for you, free of charge."
"Thank you, but that won’t be necessary." The Master did appreciate the offer though. Perhaps he’d keep these two alive and hire them for future assignments. But as to his question, he gave a shrug and casual, friendly answer. "As to what we’re going to do? It’s just a little something I thought of doing… sixty years ago."
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