Chapter 13: October 2014
Perhaps the most interesting aspect of Giles’ new system was the fact that so many more people knew about the Slayer and her support staff. The young man who met them at the airport shook their hands, exhibiting tell-tale signs of hero worship. He introduced himself as Matt and ushered them to a waiting van.
The minivan was littered with toys and fast food wrappers, and he grimaced slightly. “Sorry about the mess in here,” Matt apologized. “We had to borrow it from Angurie’s sister on short notice.”
“Angurie?” Buffy asked, sounding slightly amused.
Matt shrugged. “One of the coven members. Her sister is a soccer mom. I can guarantee you that she has no idea that there’s a Slayer and a couple of vampires riding along.”
“What about a witch?” Willow asked, her lips twitching upwards.
“She knows about that,” Matt admitted. “She thinks we’re crazy, but sometimes that’s okay. It means that they don’t take anything you do seriously.”
“I can see where that would be a good thing,” Angel remarked, looking uncomfortable in the confines of the vehicle. “So where are we going?”
Matt turned slightly in his seat to look at the vampire who wasn’t visible in the rearview mirror. “Wren thought you’d probably want to get on things right away. I’m taking you to her house.”
The rest of the ride was made in silence. Spike was uncharacteristically quiet, possibly because Buffy had elected to ride in the front passenger seat, which left him in the very back with Connor. He was contemplating what was to come, and the possibility of losing another Slayer. He rarely allowed his thoughts to run down that road these days, but the fear was there—made more real by every passing year when Buffy aged and he did not.
This wasn’t a new line of thought.
Wren’s home was a cheerful, suburban two-story, and Spike chuckled to himself, remembering the days when he scoffed at such things. These days, most of Giles’ operatives flew under the radar, residing in just this kind of neighborhood. They were mostly ordinary people—like Matt—who had been called upon for extraordinary jobs.
It had been Giles’ revolutionary idea that regular people could be heroes. The Scoobies had taught him that.
The exterior gave no indication to the furor within, however. As soon as they walked through the front door, they were greeted by several members of the coven, all of whom appeared to be exhausted. “I’m so glad you could make it,” Wren said sincerely. “It’s been all we could do to keep the Hellmouth closed.”
Spike and Angel exchanged looks. They had known it was going to be bad from the beginning. They were starting to think it might actually be worse. “Why don’t you tell us what happened?” Angel suggested. “Our information is pretty sketchy.”
Wren nodded, ushering them into the kitchen. She was a young woman, and hardly looked old enough to be placed in charge of a coven, much less a Hellmouth. Willow had vouched for her, however, saying simply, “She reminds me of Tara .”
The coven leader quickly made a pot of tea, and then asked the vampires if they wanted to eat. “We’re fine,” Spike assured her. “Just want to get to the bottom of this.”
“I’m sure you do,” she replied, finally sitting down. The table was small, but Spike and Angel had both chosen to remain standing on the periphery of things while the others took seats at the table.
“What happened to Faith?” Buffy demanded after the pause had dragged on too long for her taste. “Giles couldn’t even tell us that much.”
Wren sighed. “That’s because we don’t know. We noticed a disturbance a couple of weeks ago, but it was small. We were trying to find out what was causing it without alerting anyone about our presence. We like to keep things as low key as possible.” She shook her head. “When we realized how big it might be, we let Faith know, thinking she’d look into it and then get backup if she needed it. The next thing we knew, Giles was calling us saying that a new Slayer had been Chosen.”
“Then you still don’t know what happened to her?” Buffy asked. “How are we supposed to do our job?”
“We learned enough to make Faith try and take her out when she found her,” Matt interjected. He had followed them into the kitchen and was leaning against the counter next to Spike. “The longer we let things go, the better chance this vampire had of tapping into the Hellmouth.”
Wren shot her young colleague a look. “We knew a little. Enough to make us worry that there was a real possibility that this vampire might succeed when others haven’t. She’s old, she’s powerful, and she isn’t afraid of anything.”
“You got a name on her?” Spike asked.
“She’s calling herself the Slayer of Slayers now,” Matt said. “But before, she was known as La Muerta.”
Angel’s jaw tensed. “I see.”
“You know her?” Connor asked quietly, seeing his dad’s reaction.
The vampire shrugged. “I’ve heard of her. Rumors say she’s a bitch.”
“Then we take her out,” Buffy said coldly. Turning to Wren, she asked, “And what are you guys doing? Faith is dead, and you’re sitting around drinking tea?”
“Buffy—” Spike’s tone held a warning, but Wren was more than capable of taking care of herself.
The witch met the Slayer’s eyes, and there was cold power there that had Buffy quickly looking away. “We have not been ‘sitting around drinking tea,'” she said with precise diction. Gone was the amiable young woman who had met them; in her place was a powerful witch. “We have been thwarting every attempt this vampire has been making to open the Hellmouth. Three of my people are completely drained, and unless you stop her soon, the rest of us won’t be in much better shape.”
“Tonight,” Willow said quietly. When the others looked over at her in surprise, she grimaced. “I know Giles was counting on me to be all in favor of extensive planning, but Wren’s right. We don’t have the time.”
“What is it, Willow ?” Buffy asked, recognizing the expression on her old friend’s face.
She shook her head, joking weakly, “There’s a disturbance in the Force, Luke.” When only Spike and Connor chuckled appreciatively, she got serious. “Nothing I can put my finger on, Buffy, but I can feel it. There’s a tension there, and we’re not winning.”
“Right,” Buffy said determinedly. “Let’s figure out where this arrogant bitch is and put a stake in her.”
Angel and Spike exchanged looks. They had both seen Buffy in all her moods, and they knew that anger had a tendency to make her careless. If there was only one thing they could agree upon, it was keeping the Slayer safe.
No matter what.
~~~~~
“Why is it always a warehouse?” Buffy asked her husband irritably. “Why not—I don’t know, a nice mansion somewhere?”
“You forgetting Angelus and Dracula?” Spike asked with a raised eyebrow. “An’ it’s a warehouse because nobody calls the cops when they hear the screams.” At Buffy’s glare, he felt compelled to point out, “You did ask.”
She let out a breath. “It was a rhetorical question.” There was a pause. “How do you think the others are doing?”
Spike shrugged. “‘m sure they’re fine. Between Angel and Connor, they’ll bring Willow in right under her. We’ll attack her on two fronts, an’ she’ll be dust before she knows what hit her.”
“Do you really think it’s going to be that easy?”
“No, but a bloke can hope, can’t he?”
There was a long pause. “Are you angry with me?”
“Angry?” Spike glanced over at her. “Now why would I be angry?”
“Because I came even though—” Buffy stopped. “You understand, don’t you?”
“‘course I understand,” Spike said, sounding annoyed. “I know you, Buffy. I never thought you’d sit this one out, not when it’s about Faith.”
She glared at him. “Then why did you even ask, Spike?”
“Maybe because I was hopin’ you’d see sense,” he shot back, and then immediately sighed. “Look, luv, let’s not do this now. We’ve got enough in front of us to fight without fightin’ each other.”
“Fine.” The tightness in her voice told Spike that she still wasn’t happy with him, but he really couldn’t say that he cared. He knew that Buffy had a tendency to lash out at those around her when she was angry or upset. Once she worked out some of her aggression on their target, they’d be right as rain again.
Of course, that didn’t make it any more fair to him while she kept making him the target.
Matt crept up behind them, moving quietly, although not so silently that Spike didn’t hear him approaching. “They’re in,” he whispered. “Angel said he wouldn’t have any trouble in the sewers.”
Spike nodded. “Good.”
“You’re going to stay here.” Buffy was using her best general’s voice, but Matt wasn’t used to her taking command yet.
“What? No!” he hissed back. “Wren told me to stick close to you guys.”
Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “Wren isn’t in charge. I am. And I don’t want you getting hurt.”
Spike knew he was going to regret this. “He’s comin’ in, Slayer.”
“Spike—”
“He stays out here by himself, there’s no one to watch his back. He comes in with us, he’ll probably be safer.” The vampire gave the young man a hard look. “You stay close and keep down, hear me?”
The expression on Buffy’s face told Spike that Angel was probably right. He would be spending the next month on the couch, but right now he didn’t care. She was being a bitch, and the kid would be in more danger staying behind. “Fine. You’re responsible for him, Spike.”
That was it. Normally they didn’t go into a fight without exchanging some kind of pleasantries, even if it was only a quickly uttered, “Be careful.” The Slayer was up and headed towards the warehouse entrance in a flash, without saying anything else.
Matt glanced towards Spike in alarm when the vampire let out a low growl. “You know how to use that crossbow you’re hangin’ onto?” Spike asked. When Matt nodded, he said, “Then you find a secure spot an’ start dustin’ ’em quick as you can, hear me?”
The boy nodded, his eyes revealing a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Spike was reminded of Xander. Harris had had the same grit that Matt was displaying—although grit could easily translate into stupidity.
Spike was on his feet, moving swiftly and silently after his wife. He noted that Matt was nearly as quiet, and was grateful that he seemed to know what he was doing. Spike understood what Wren had been doing by sending one of her own with them.
Even though it had been decided that Willow would disrupt La Muerta’s attempts at opening the Hellmouth, she might need a little extra muscle. Matt had power, but he was inexperienced, which meant he wasn’t much use joining the rest of the coven in fending off La Muerta’s attacks from a distance. In accompanying them, Matt could act as a spare battery, just in case Willow ran low on juice.
Spike was cursing his Slayer’s impatience roundly when they entered. He knew why Giles had wanted them to plan this out carefully. Going in with guns blazing was what had gotten Faith killed. Although if Willow was right, they didn’t have the time to develop a more complicated plan.
He was grateful that Matt was willing to follow his lead. The boy got himself into a safe corner and started firing his crossbow, hitting two out of every three. Angel and Connor were guarding Willow , who was chanting steadily.
They had briefly discussed attempting a sunlight spell inside the warehouse, but neither Angel nor Spike were willing to let the three humans go in without their protection. Besides, while the sunlight spell was rather spectacular, it was tricky. Even Willow ‘s skill couldn’t guarantee that it would come off right every time.
Buffy was in the middle of the action, as usual, trading blows with a female vampire who had six inches and about fifty pounds on her. Spike was on his way to lend a hand when he was met by three vamps, all female, looking ready for a fight. “It’s a tribe of bloody Amazons,” he growled, bringing out the demon with glee.
It wasn’t often that he got this opportunity anymore, but he still loved it.
They surrounded him in a loose circle. “If it isn’t William the Bloody,” one of the vamps jeered. “Looks like the rumors were right. He is Slayer-whipped.”
“Won’t keep me from dustin’ you ugly ladies,” he retorted, slipping easily into the banter of fighting. Oh, how he had missed this. It had been months since he’d had a good fight.
One of the vamps was obviously young and inexperienced. At Spike’s insult, she launched herself at him furiously, and he blocked her blows easily, ducking a high kick to sweep her legs out from under her. She went down hard, and he put his stake through her heart before she could rise.
The other two howled in rage, and one jumped on his back, clawing at his eyes. He was distracted enough that he couldn’t fend off the third’s knee to the groin, and he doubled over in agony. The vampire behind him took advantage of the situation. She seized him by the neck and arm, trapping him in a three-quarters nelson, and leaving him wide open to attacks from the front. “Bloody hell,” Spike hissed, knowing that if he didn’t get moving they would take advantage of his incapacitation.
Spike heard a shout from behind him, and the vamp who had kicked him disintegrated before his eyes. The vampire pinning him loosened her grip, and Spike grabbed her arm, twisting himself free. He saw Matt holding a crossbow, looking triumphant. The vampiress was disoriented, looking in shock at the dust of her fallen companion, and Spike slipped his stake into her heart before she could recover.
“Good work!” he called, watching as Matt flushed in pleasure and then retreated to his corner again, still firing off the occasional bolt.
He turned to Buffy, who was getting beaten back by La Muerta—which was a damn stupid name, if you asked him. Pretentious, and just asking to be challenged. Too bad it looked like the vampire could live up to her name admirably.
Willow was facing off against the only male in the entourage. He was obviously the sorcerer La Muerta had employed to open up the Hellmouth, but Spike could see that Willow was enjoying the contest. That meant she wasn’t feeling threatened, and as long as Angel and Connor kept the Raksh demons off her back she would be fine.
It was Buffy he was concerned about, and Spike focused on getting across the warehouse floor to assist her. She’d be pissed at him for taking her kill, but if he could just catch the vampiress from behind, unawares—
Spike was so intent on reaching Buffy in time that he didn’t see the vampire behind him. He wasn’t even aware of the danger until he heard a shout—it sounded like it came from Angel. By then, the wooden plank was through his chest, tearing through bone and muscle, dropping him instantly.
And then he wasn’t aware of anything else.
~~~~~
The ringing of a phone pulled Xander out of a sound sleep, and he felt a shudder of fear go through him. It had been a long time since he had been part of the action, not since before Buffy had left Sunnydale for good.
There were days when he missed it—missed the adrenaline rush and the excitement. When he missed knowing that he was a big part—or maybe a medium-sized part—of why the world kept turning.
More often, however, he just liked waking up next to his wife, going to work, and coming home. Xander liked having what passed for a normal life, and he liked being the one that his friends counted on for that balance. He liked to think of himself as their anchor to the normal world.
Nights like this, however, when the phone rang late, and Xander knew the news wouldn’t be good, he couldn’t help but wish he was there again, in the thick of things. At least then he wouldn’t have to answer the phone in a cold sweat.
“This is Xander.”
“Xander—” He heard Willow ‘s voice falter on the other line, and he felt guilt for the relief that flooded him. At least Willow was okay.
“What happened?”
“It’s Spike,” Willow replied, her voice steadier. “We went in—took care of the bad guy, but—he’s hurt really bad.”
Xander swallowed hard. For all their past animosity, Xander had actually come to like the vampire. More importantly, if something happened to him, Buffy and Meg would be devastated. “How bad?”
“Big wooden plank through the chest,” Willow said in a rush. “It was rough wood, so we’re working on making sure there aren’t any splinters left in. If it had been even a little more to the left…”
She left it hanging, but Xander knew what she was saying. Spike very nearly hadn’t made it. “The others?”
“Good,” Willow hastened to assure him. “Well, actually, Angel—he, uh, got slimed.”
Xander’s lips curled in a smile, in spite of the bad news about Spike. He could hear a spark of humor in Willow ‘s tone, and he thought there might be a story there. “Slimed, huh?”
“Big time,” she giggled, suddenly sounding like the girl he’d known in high school. “One of the demons exploded on him, and I guess it doesn’t come out of anything. Like hair.”
Xander chuckled. “How much whining did he do?”
“A lot, until Buffy told him to shut up because it could be worse.” Willow sounded grim again. “I was calling to let you know that it’s going to be a few days before we can leave. We don’t want to move Spike in case—”
Xander didn’t let her finish. “Does Buffy want me to say anything to Meg?”
“Not now,” Willow replied. “It looks like he’s going to pull through, so there’s no reason to make her worry.”
“I won’t say a thing,” Xander assured her. “You guys take as long as you need.”
Willow heaved a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Xander. I’ll give Wes a call and let him know too.”
“Not that I’m telling you how to do your job, but you guys went in pretty fast,” Xander commented.
He could hear Willow ‘s sigh. “We weren’t sure we had a choice. Before you say it, I know we got lucky. If the vampire Buffy was fighting hadn’t been distracted, it could have been really bad.”
Xander knew what “really bad” meant. He’d been there for it in the past. “Tell Buffy to hang in there, okay?”
“Will do,” the witch responded. “We’ll see you when we get back.”
Xander hung up the phone, rubbing tired hands over his face. There was no way he was going to be able to get back to sleep now, even though he had a trip to Disneyland with a nine-year-old planned for the next day.
He just hoped that Willow was right and that Spike pulled through. It seemed strange to even think it, but the world would be a worse place if Spike wasn’t in it.