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Exactly what happened the next few moments remained a blur to Willow.
She recognized the furrowed brow and yellow eyes of a vampire--weird as that seemed with the sun directly behind him. He was young, or had been when turned, no more than twenty five. The demonic face and bestial noises clashed with his neat blonde hair and what looked like a nice suit--now dirty and ripped. One blow sent someone--the redhead who'd been shooting daggers at Tara--flying.
The next blow came from Faith. At least she thought so, as Tara had already moved in between danger and herself. Still, she'd seen Faith land that kind of swinging kick before. Sure enough, the vampire flew backwards. James--that was his name, right?--flew thorough the air out the door. Under the circumstances, she wasn't surprised when he didn't burst into flame.
Disappointed, though.
"Slayer!" he growled, getting up. "I'm going to make you beg for death." He strode towards the building.
Faith and Tara this time acted as one. Once he got well inside, away from any direct sunlight, they both reached for him and each grabbed an arm. After all, he might be invulnerable but he wasn't any stronger than he used to be, right? Willow hoped she was right. Seeing how both Tara and Faith, with their combined strength, managed to hold him--barely--she began feeling even more hope.
Until the redhead ran up and drove a stake into his heart. She hit hard enough he fell back, out of Faith's and Tara's grasps. Landing on the vampire, she actually pounded the stake deeper with her fists. For all the good it did--since he tossed her off of him with ease. Then yanked the wooden stake out of his chest. He looked at it for a moment, something like wonder on his face. A chuckle escaped his lips.
"Well, well, well," he said. "good to know that does work."
He looked around at those around him. Willow knew her own eyes were huge, and could see Tara and Faith as well as the other redhead stare and stare. The vampire tossed the stake aside. "I am," he said, "going to enjoy this."
Faith barely ducked as he threw his fist, pushing a hole in the wall.
"Ha! You believe your speed with be your salvation?" He pulled his fist out of the wall with a snort. "False hope can make the hunt very sweet. Go ahead and run. That will simply increase my pleasure!" His voice trembled, grew quiet. "The only pleasure left to me."
Justine didn't wait but tried immediately to attack the vampire. Her fist swung. Connected. James the vampire caught her wrist before she could strike him again. But instead of killing her or fighting back at all, he stared at her, then at Faith. He seemed to be studying Faith's reaction. Willow could swear he looked disappointed.
"You are nothing," he said hoarsely. "Nothing to her."
Before he could do anything else, Tara's blade was slicing through the air. Like a whispered scream, it made an arc, cutting through his neck in one clean blow. His head toppled to the floor. But his body didn't fall.
It let go of Justine. Then turned around. Headed towards the head now in the corner, eyes blazing and fangs hissing.
"Oh golly that's not good," Willow breathed.
"No kidding," snarled Faith.
"Hey!" It was Anne, calling out from the back of the building. She had a door open.
"Come on!" Tara grabbed Willow's hand. Faith scrambled to her feet, following them to the back of the building. Willow simply had to look back as she ran. Sure enough, the body's hands had finally reached the severed head and was struggling--with difficulty--to reattach it. An image that was seriously wrong, could not be anything except wrong, and Willow feared she'd never really manage to forget.
She ran. Fast. When they made it to the door, then into the stairway going down, Willow was terribly glad to see Anne bolt the door behind them.
"That ain't gonna hold him long," Faith panted.
"I know," answered Anne. "This way to the sewers!" She headed down. Faith shared a look with Willow and Tara, then followed. Oh goody. Another trek into the sewers. Not that she hesitated. Tara didn't either, but headed straight down, her hand holding Willow's in vise.
The pounding started less than a minute later. Another minute and they could hear the wood starting to crack.
* * *
Lilah Morgan felt good, but tired. Not "tired but good."
Good. But...tired.
The penthouse had been full of all the right people, toasting her with (very) expensive champagne. Holland Manners himself had made a speach in her honor, proudly presenting her with the key to a new corner office. Lindsay McDonald and Gavin Park had been smiling at her, or at least made grimaces in the shape of smiles. Both clearly seethed inside at her promotion, and that had certainly been fun. The fact each had been demoted at the same time she was kicked upstairs had also added a certain spice to the evening. Just look at it this way, she'd told them--at least you've each got a testicle left.
Or right. As the case may be.
But after a few hours of having others bow and scrape, along with would-be gigolos among the associates viying for the honor of carrying her h'ordeuves, she felt tired. To more than one executive's surprise, she bowed out of her own party early. No less than seven people had offered to escort her home. She'd turned them all down.
Now here it was--her apartment. How did she get here again? Right--a limo. She thought her apartment a good place, a comfortable place. The decor was tasteful, understated, yet of surprising quality to anyone with the eye to know. Such was part of her apartment's function, to be more than it seemed.
Right now, it was empty.
She didn't realize that wasn't the case until the door was halfway closed behind her. Tired from the party, from a full week of hard work, from a boring drive home from the office, the candles hadn't at first registered. When they did, she really should have been afraid.
Why aren't I afraid? She wondered.
The dining room had been turned into a cathedral of tapered blue wax, maybe a hundred or more tiny flames casting flickering shadows in all directions. Yet they were artfully laid out. Lilah was in no danger as she entered. In fact, she was able to appreciate how carefully everything--not simply the candles--had been arranged. The silverware was delicate yet strong, placed to perfection on either side of china worthy of a queen. Or an empress.
For me?
"All for you." Coming from the kitchen, she was something of a vision. Tonight she wore midnight blue in silk that draped off her like smoke. And in her hands was the most elaborate caraffe Lilah had ever seen--baroque in silver and gold.
Drusilla poured the wine into two fluted glasses.
"I've been waiting for you." She said it with a little smile. "So thoughtful you were, to invite me here."
"Did I?" Lilah didn't remember. "You're welcome."
Her smile shared promises of secrets. Dark secrets. Powerful ones. "Thank you." She handed a glass to Lilah, who took it in hand, enjoying the touch of smooth glass.
"Taste it."
She did. The wine was warm, spicy and left a sweet aftertaste on the tongue. "Brandywine." She hadn't had any in years.
"You like it?"
"Its been a long time." She savored the liquid heat in her mouth. "Thank you."
Glass touched glass, with a gentle tone ringing in the air between them.
"Enjoy," whispered the vampire to the lawyer.
And the lawyer dreamed on, not waking for many hours.
* * *
"How long," panted Willow, causing an echo in the darkness, "is he supposed to last?"
Right, Faith thought, like anybody knows the answer to that.
"Nobody knows," said Tara. "But it can't be more than a few hours."
"Okay, good."
"SSSSSLLLLLAAAAYYYYYEEEEERRRRRR!!!!!!!" James.
Willow sighed. "Okay. Bad."
"No kidding." Faith stopped. She'd been thinking about the situation and everything seemed pretty clear. Especially what had to be done. "Okay, listen up. We need to find somewhere with elbow room." Picking up the pace, she trusted they'd follow. Sure enough, in less than a second Anne and Tara were catching up, the latter dragging Red behind her.
"I'm hoping you have a plan?" asked Anne.
"As a matter of fact, I do."
"Don't suppose you feel like sharing?" This from Tara.
"YOOOOUUUUUU CAAAAAN'T HIIIIIIIDE FOOOOOOOORRRREVVVERRRRRR!!!!"
"Phase One--we avoid him."
"I like it," offered Red, her voice cracking.
"Thought you might."
"What's phase two?" Tara again.
"Hit him as many times and ways as we can--once he catches up. Cause he will." No response to that. Well, she hadn't expected any. For now, it was a matter of moving. Moving fast and moving far. They'd need some luck. Not much. Some. But with enough, they could hold him off until the magical whatsis wore off and he turned into a dust bunny. Yeah, there'd be some danger--but wasn't that what she liked? Always had? If she couldn't handle it, who could? And if she couldn't?
If she couldn't, then wasn't this the way she'd assumed would be her exit? Fighting tooth and nail against some vamp? This way, wouldn't it have at least one advantage--namely, she knew her opponent would go down too? Kinda poetic in a way. Go out killing a vamp. Not as wicked as the whole saving the world thing, but she'd had that. Killed a lotta vamps. Saved the whole world a couple of times. Not to mention lots and lots of people. Lots. Not as many as she'd've liked, though. Especially... But there were some more folks to save now. That'd be good, right? Okay one of them is a vampire, but its not like she's the same kind of vampire as the others. Right, Bee? You betcha. Okay, maybe Bee wouldn't've agreed. Totally. But still. Since when had she ever listened to Bee? Or vice versa?
"SLAYER!"
Faith slowed for a moment. She wanted to get a bearing on where Ticked-Of-And-Toothsome was. One hand raised got the others to be quiet. She listened.
"SLAYER?" His voice was now a voice, not a growl. "I DON'T REALLY WANT TO KILL YOU AT ALL. NOT REALLY." A pause. Faith listened intently. Not far. That much was certain. "TWO HUNDRED YEARS, SLAYER. CAN YOU IMAGINE THAT? DO YOU THINK A SHORT-LIVED PIECE OF VERMIN CAN IMAGINE LOVE ON A SCALE LIKE THAT?" The steps were barely audible. His voice was lower. "A THOUSAND THOUSAND NIGHTS WE WERE TOGETHER. WE COULD HAVE HAD A THOUSAND TIMES THAT AGAIN. BUT FOR YOU!" The last word was nearly a hiss, echoing along the walls of the sewer. When it resumed, the fury in his words still boiled, but under pressure. The effect was to make each syllable a threat. But then, Faith already knew that they were. "THAT WHY I DON'T WANT TO KILL YOU. NOT YOU. WHAT I'D LIKE TO DO IS TO FIND SOMEONE YOU LOVED, SOMEONE WHO MADE THE WORLD SWEET, IN WHOSE EYES EVERY MOMENT OF ETERNITY SEEMED WORTHWHILE." In the distance, the vampire's voice actually cracked. "THEY SAID YOU LOVED SOMEONE. AND THAT YOUR LOVE WAS DEAD."
"THEY LIED. KNOW HOW I KNOW THAT? BECAUSE-YOU'RE-STILL-ALIVE!"
* * *
Tara could hear Faith's breathing become more ragged as she listened to the vampire's words. What he was trying to do was obvious--goad her into an attack. The fact he might believe what he said only made the tactic more likely to work. Unfortunately.
Faith turned around, her face twisted with rage. Before Tara could say anything, the dark-haired young woman was running past and back.
"Faith!" It was Anne, her hand reaching out to try and catch Faith, but missing in the dark.
"Oh god!" By now Tara knew exactly what every timbre of her lover's voice meant. Willow was afraid for her friend. Tara shifted Willow's weight to Anne.
"Hold her," she said, cupping Willow's cheek briefly before running after Faith. There were times, she thought to herself, she really regretted the fact Willow had a conscience. Like now. Having to keep a Slayer with a death wish from killing herself fighting an invulnerable monster with the same problem was one of those times. But she did, so Tara had to. And she really didn't have time for self-dialogue as she reached where vampire and slayer were already trading blows. Hard ones. Each was landing strikes in the masonry behind each other. James, presumably, was doing so out of habit. Being invulnerable, for now, he didn't really have to duck. He did anyway, and as a result the masonry behind him now sported cracks.
Do you really want to join in this fight, Tara thought to herself? An image of Willow's eyes answered that question quickly enough. Tara drew her sword and waded in.
What followed was blindingly fast. Tara didn't dare let James attack her from the left--her missing eye was a weakness that she'd never underestimated. He didn't seem to notice, though. All of his focus was on Faith. Okay. Made sense. But didn't that make him more vulnerable? A series of slices and cuts followed, fast as Tara could manage. Her opponent barely flinched, ducking or batting away, but more importantly giving Faith the opening she'd been looking for. A spinning kick, backed the more-than-human strength of a Slayer, connected directly into his head.
Not that it made much difference. He was up again in less than a second. Bracing himself, he simply took her next kick. And the one after that. The fourth never landed, as he caught her ankle with both hands. Grinning, he gave a vicious twist.
Faith didn't scream. But that made the snap of bone only more audible.
She did gasp, though. And blanch. Then she did both again as James pulled and pushed! Faith hit the ground with a thud.
Tara swung as fast as she could. The blade sliced into James, who shrieked with pain! He turned instantly, before her sword could penetrate further than an inch or two. More, his turn pulled the sword from her hands! It flew from her--and out of him. She heard the clank of it against the wall. But that barely registered as James grabbed Tara by the throat, lifting her.
"What's this?" Golden eyes like hers stared. "You--defend her? Why?" He cocked his head.
For her part, Tara waited. Time was her friend. Faith's as well. This vampire's invulnerability wouldn't last long. Time. Wait. And let time proceed.
James smiled. Not a pleasant sight. "I see! There were rumors--about a Slayer, beloved of a vampire!" Now he laughed. If anything, it was even worse. "Perfect! Better than I could have hoped for!" His laugh grew louder, even maniacal. But it ended in sobs that wracked his body. "Elizabeth..." he whispered, "for you, my love." Then, he lifted Tara high. And raised his other hand like a claw. "My heart is gone, Slayer! Now, I take yours!"
Lightning fast, that hand shot up towards Tara's chest. She realized what he was going to do and readied to try blocking the blow--before it went through her chest.
She never got the chance.
Whistling, her sword spun through the air, slicing off his hand at the wrist!
James shrieked, dropping Tara. He looked back, seeing a ragged Faith gasping from the effort of the throw. Without a pause, he ran over and picked up Tara's fallen sword.
His first blow was intended to take off Tara's head.
Tara ducked. Barely. It took more to avoid his second strike. Rolling, she tried to get out of range--and failed. He pinned her to the floor, driving the blade through her torso like a collector adding another butterfly to his collection. Only this butterfly screamed--and did what only someone superhuman could. Rather than simply go into shock, Tara grabbed the uneven floor--and turned herself. She screamed with the effort, but managed to do what she'd set out to. The edge of the blade now pointed out of her, and with no bones in the way. Snarling with rage she began removing her own sword the hard way. Through herself!
James stepped on her, and pushed. "Gutsy," he chuckled. "Elizabeth would have liked you. See you both in hell soon enough!" With a single lightning move, he slid the katana out of Tara and readied it for the blow that would slice off her head. "SLAYER!" he paused long enough to growl, "NOW YOUR BELOVED DIES!"
Flashing, the blade slashed!
TO BE CONTINUED