Download - Unseen 03 The Long Way Home
Theshadowturned,theblacknessaslow-movingblurthatstoppedwhenthemajorityofitwasfacingRiley.
AllRiley’ssenseshonedinonhistarget.Iftherewasfearinsidehim,itwassotightlycorralledthatitmightaswellhavebeennonexistent.HisSpecialOpsdrillsergeanthadworkedonreplacingthedeep-seatedreactiontothreatswithahighlyevolvedsetofsurvivalskills.InaseasonedveteranlikeRiley,thefight-or-flightresponsewasallbutgone,andinitsplace,Rileyranthroughaseriesofanalyticalstrategies,calculatingthebestoddsforsurvival.PlanA,PlanB,PlanC...
Thecreatureremainedmotionless.Then,slowly,itbegantomoveintoaverticalcolumn,pilingitselfonemassatopanother,almostlikethesectionsofamillipede,reachingupintothetreetopslikeathunderhead.Itthrewbackwhatmightbeaheadandahideousshrieksplitthesky.
It’schallengingme,herealized.It’sgoingtoattack.
PlanD,PlanE...
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Thisbookisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,placesandincidentsareproductsoftheauthors’imaginationorareusedfictitiously.Anyresemblancetoactualeventsorlocalesorpersons,livingordead,isentirelycoincidental.
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Acknowledgments
TheauthorswouldliketothanktheunseenpeoplewhomakeBuffyandAngelwork—themakeupartists,costumers,transportationsspecialists,CGItechnicians,carpenters,setdesigners,composers,editors,mixers,writers,directors,producers,andeveryoneelsewhoworksbehindthescenestomaketheshowsthesuccessesthattheyare.Youfolksaren’tinvisible,andyouareappreciated.
Prologue
SUNNYDALEWASTHETOWNTHATHADTHINGSINITTHATshouldn’thavebeenthere.Monstersshouldn’thavebeenthere.Vampiresshouldn’thavebeenthere.Twelvecemeterieswithinitscitylimitsshouldn’thavebeenthere.
Buttheywere.
SunnydalewasHellmouthCentral,andinabetterworld,therewouldbenodotonthemapforOLittleTownofBedlam,Mayhem,andMadness.Itwouldbenothing.Itwouldbenowhere.Unmissed,unmourned,andunseen.
Butthiswasnotabetterworld.Thiswastherealworld.AndtheonethingthatshouldbeinSunnydale—theSlayer—wasgone.
OnemomentshewasstandingbesideRupertGiles’ssofa,armsathersides,takingabreathasTarafinishedherritual.Thenshehadwalkedtowardtheshimmeringgoldencirclethatfloatedintheroomlikemisplacedsunlight.Thenshewasgone.
XanderHarriswasdumbfounded.Thiswaswhatthey’dbeentryingtoaccomplish—thecandles,Tara’sunceasing,tonelesschanting,Buffy’svisualizationexercises,allofit.Andhe’dseenstrangerthingshappen,aroundthisgroup,thingshehopedhe’dneverseeagain.
Butsomehow,watchingBuffywalkintothatcircle,liftingherrighthandtoaboutwaistheight,asifshewerereachingforadoorknob,andthenswivelingherwristasifshewereturningthatsameknob...itwasalljustcreepy.Hetriedtosuppressashiver.Anyanoticedandputacomfortinghandonhisback.
“Cold?”sheasked.
Hedidn’tanswer,justshookhishead.Awarm,gentlebreezehadblownfromthemagickaldoorway,andonthebreezehethoughthecouldtastevariousflavors:cinnamon,rose,chocolate,maybefresh-cutgrass.ItsmelledlikeoneofthoseteasTaraorderedattheBronze,thekindthatbroughttomindacompostheapinapaperfilter.
Xanderrealizedhe’dbeenhearingadistantbellchime,itstonesspacedfarapart,maybeeverytwentysecondsorso.Itfadednow,asthebreezedied.Helookedaround—Giles,Riley,Joyce,Spike,Tara,Anya,allwatchedthecirclethatBuffyhadsteppedthrough,andtheyallworefarawaylooksontheirfaces,asiftheytoolistenedtothebell.
Theidea,Xanderknew,wasthatBuffywouldmeetAngelontheothersideofthedoor—whereverthatwas.Together,guidedbytheThreeWitchesoftheum,Apocalypse?—Willow,Tara,andsomeoneinLosAngelesnamedDoñaPilar—andaRussiangirlnoneofthepeopleinthisroomhadevermet,theywouldrescuetheteenswhohadbeendisappearingalloverLosAngeles,andplugtheholethroughwhichmonstersspilledintoSunnydale.
Hey,allinaday’swork.
Anyway,thatwastheidea.Xanderhopeditpassedmuster.HehopedthisRussiangirlwiththefunkymachineknewwhatshewasdoing,andhehopedthatWillowandTaraandDoñaPilarwereasgoodatthewitchlythingastheyseemedtothink.AndtherewasalsothepartwhereBuffyandAngelwouldhavetobegoodenoughtofightwhateveritwasthatlayontheothersideofthedoor,inMonsterville.HehadnodoubtthattheSlayerandhervampireexweregood,thebesttherewereonthissideofreality.Butontheotherside,whoknewwhatrulesapplied?ThelocalsbehindDoorNumberOnemightbecreatureswhoateSlayersforbreakfastandcleanedtheirteethwithdemonsafterward.
Gilesbrokethespellbyspeakingfirst.“Well,that’sitthen,”hesaid.“I-I’msureshe’llbejustfine,andwillreturntousinnotimeatall.”
“She’dbetter,”Rileysaid,glancingaroundtheroomasiflookingforsomethinghecouldpunch.“Ihatetheideaoflettinghergothroughthat—”
“Weknow,Riley,”Anyapointedout.“Noneofusfeelsgoodaboutit,butshe’stheSlayer,right?Shekindofmakestherules.We’rejusttheSlayerettes.”Shesmiledbrightly.“Hah.I’maSlayerette.”
Joyceinterruptedhisreverie.“Spike?”shesaid.Xanderlookedup.Spikehadwanderedveryclosetothegoldencircle,lookingatitlikeamantryingtowatchthepictureonthescreenofaTVthat’sbeenturnedoff,asitcompressestoasingledotoflight.Buffy’smomhadputherhandonSpike’sshoulder.“Don’tgettooclose,dear,”shewarned.
Spikejustshookherhandoff,tossingasnarloverhisshoulderattheothers.“Buggerit,”hesaid,“I’mgoingin.”
Hepushedhimselfintothefadingcircle,asifenteringwatersideways,anddisappearedbeforeanyonecouldsayaword.
“Wow,”Anyasaid.“Thatwasballsy.”
OntheothersideofXander,Tarafelltoherknees,gasping.Shemoanedandsaid,“Hewasn’tprepared,andIwasn’t—”
“Tara?”Gilesasked,crouchingbesideher.Heputhishandonherback.“Areyouallright?”
“I-Idon’tknow,”Tarasaid,grimacing.Shesmoothedbackherhair.“ThewholepointoftheritualwastomakesurethatBuffyandAngelwereprotectedgoingthrough,andontheotherside.SpikejumpingthroughlikethatbrokemylinkwithWillowandDoñaPilar,andit...ithurt.”
“Go,Spike,”Xandersaidwithdisgust.
“Buthe’sallright?”Anyablurted.ShelookedfirstatTara,andthenatGilesandXander.
Therewasrealworryonherface,whichirkedXander.AnyaandSpikehadalotincommon,andacoupleoftimes,she’dseemedtemptedtostartsomethingwiththevampire.Colormejealous,whichispartoftherulesofthepajamagame.ItmeansIloveher.
Whennoonespoke,Anyasaid,withalittlehintofdesperation,“Right?”
“I’m...I’msurehe’llbejust...justfine,”Gilesstammered,asheandRileyhelpedTaratoherfeet.Willow’ssweetieappearedtobeinconsiderablepain.
WhatwillhappentoBuffyandAngelwithoutthelink?Havewelostthem?Xanderwondered.
Anyasettledintothecouchandcrossedonelegovertheother.Shefrownedandsaid,“Okay.Sowhatnow?”
Tarawrappedherarmsaroundherselfinaprotectivehug.“Idon’tknow,”sherepeated,shakingherhead.“Idon’tknow.Thisisallnewterritory,forallofus.We’rejusttryingthingsoutaswegoalong.”Sherockedbackandforth.“Ifeelsosickinside.Ifeelsodizzy”
Rileywalkedintothekitchen.HepouredaglassofwaterfromthetapandbroughtitbacktoTara.Sheshookherheadbuthekepthishandoutstretched,givingheracurtnod.Unsteadily,shetooktheglassandgulpedthewaterdownasifshe’dbeenlostinthedesertforfortydaysandfortynights.
Xanderstaredatthecircle,seeingnotsomuchashimmering,goldencircleasoneofthemanymasksthattheHellmouthwore,beckoningtheSlayertocomein,makeherselfcomfortable,anddie.
Besafe,Buffy,Xanderprayed,asmuchasXanderactuallyeverprayed.Comebacktous.
HeputhisarmaroundAnyaandsheleanedherheadagainsthischest,sighingheavily.
“IfIhadmypowers,Icouldfixthis,”shesaid.ShelookedatTara,whohadclosedhereyesandwasleaningherheadbackagainstthesofapillows.Herforeheadwasbeadedwithsweat.“MaybeI’mjustluckythatway.”
Rileytooktheglassandwalkedbackintothekitchen.Buffy’ssoldierwaspissed.Whoat,wasanybody’sguess,butXanderputhismoneyonRileyhimself.HewasblaminghimselfthatSpikehadbrokenranksanddonethepredictablyself-servingandunpredictablething.HewasprobablyalsoblaminghimselfforlettingBuffygothrough—Hah,asifanybodycantelltheBuffsterwhattodo—andhewasnodoubtblaminghimselffornothavingthoughtofbarrelinginafterSpikehimself.EventhoughRileyknewbetter.
Cuzhe’sinlove,Xanderthought.Plus,niceguy.
Xanderfeltabitmournful,rememberingthetimeinhisbasementthatRileyhad
Xanderfeltabitmournful,rememberingthetimeinhisbasementthatRileyhadtoldhimthatheknewBuffydidn’tlovehim.Xanderhadbeenshocked.HehimselfhadsufferedfromunrequitedlovefortheSlayer,butthatwasbecauseshe’dturnedhimdownfortheSpringFlingandthen,okay,sleptwithAngel.
Yeah,he’dbeenageek,andasocialpariah,andkindadorky.AndBuffyhadbeenthenewgirlfromL.A.AndRileywasthishandsomecommandoguywhocould,like,orderanuclearattackonKamchatka.Notlovehim?
Inanotheruniverse,maybe,hethought.
Slayer,Slayer,whereveryouare...
“OhGod,Buffy,”hemurmured,“besafe.”
Chapter1
BUFFYSTEPPEDTHROUGHTHEDOORSHEHADVISUALIZED,andoveraplainwoodenthreshold,andthatwastheendofwhatcouldremotelybecallednormal.Theothersidedidn’tlookanythinglikewhatshehadexpected—althoughtobehonest,shethought,whatIguessIwasexpectingwastostillbeinGiles’slivingroomsaying“Itoldyouthiswouldn’twork”toTara.Soprettymuchanythingisasurprise.
Butwhatshesawwasmorethanjustunexpected.Itwasunreal,afairytalelandscapethatshewassurehadneverexistedonEarth.Inthedistanceacastleperchedatoparollinggreenhill.Itswallsandtowerswereabluishgray,withpinkpennantsflutteringatthetowers’peaks.Betweenherandthecastletreesroseincolumns,akindofforestexceptthatforestsusuallyhadallthatunderbrushandthornyparts,whereasthisforestwasalltall,strongtreeswithplentyofroombetweenthemforwalking,picnicking,orwhateverelsecametomind,acarpetoflushgreengrassbeneaththem.
Hillsrolledbeyondtheforest,toppedbythecastle,andinthefardistance,snow-cappedpeaksthatlookedjustalittletoomuchliketheyweresugarcoatedinsteadoffrozen.Glowingaboveitallwasaperfectlyround,perfectlyyellowsuninacrispbluesky.Itwasallverybucolicandcharming.
Andthentherewasthedragon.
Wheretherestofthescenewaspicture-bookperfect,morecharmingthanrealandtoorealtobeadream,thedragonwasabsolutelyhorrifying.Seagreenandvaguelyiguana-like,ifiguanasgrewuptobethesizeoftheSunCinema,withrazorliketeeththatlookedalmostaslongasBuffywastall,aspikedtail,andleatherybatwings.Thebeastturneditsred,beadyeyesonBuffy,shookitsheadfromsidetosideacoupleoftimes,andexhaledablastoffetidbreath.
Maybetheydon’tbreathefire,shethought,mentallyholdinghernose,becausetheydon’tneedto.
Ithadseenher,shewascertainofthat.Andifitwantedherforlunch,shecouldn’timaginetherewasmuchthatshecoulddotodissuadeit.Theideaofrunningoccurredtoher,butshediscardeditasecondlaterasimpractical—thething’slegswerecertainlylongandpowerfulenoughtocovergroundfasterthanshecould,evenifsheknewwhereshewasgoing.
Justincase,shespunaroundtoseewhatwasbehindher.
Fortyyardsofgrass,andthennothing.
Themeadowendedabruptlyatadrop-offthatmusthavebeenincrediblysteep,becausefromhereshecouldn’tseeathing.Inthedistance,thefuzzyblueofanoceanstretchedtothehorizon.Herguesswasthatshewasatthetopofacliffthatfellawaytothecoast,butshecouldn’ttellforsurewithoutadvancingtotheedge,andwiththedragonbehindhergivingherthehungryeye,shewasn’toverlyexcitedtotrythat.
“Hi,”shesaidtoit,justincaseitcouldtalkbecauseafterall,here,whoknew?“BuffySummers.Slayer.Youseenaguyinablackleathercoataroundhere,spikybrownhair,darkeyes?”
Thedragonlowereditshead,frontclawsdiggingatthegrassyearth.
“Soprobablynot,iswhatI’mthinking,”Buffycontinued.“BecauseIwassupposedtomeethimhere,andI’mnotseeinganysignofhim.”
Thedragonhuffedagain,andBuffyreallywisheditwouldn’t.She’dhuntedvampsinsewersthatsmelledbetter.Forthatmatter,shecouldn’trememberhavingexperiencedasewerthatsmelledworse.
Andtherewassomethingaboutthewayitwasmoving...
...something,shethought,likeabullgettingreadytocharge...
Andthenitdid,straightforher,jawswide,wicked-lookingteethglintingwetlyinthesunlight.
Almosttooeasy,shethought.Getitcomingatmefast,thendodgeanditcan’tstop,andit’sbye-bye,dragon,overthecliff.
Sheheldhergroundaslongasshedared,lookingintoitsredeyes,measuringitsspeed,watchingforitstailandclawsincaseitledwithoneortheother.Afteritwaspracticallyontopofher,shetookarunningstartandhurledherselftowardthenearestcopseoftrees;andsureenough,thedragonstartedtryingtobrake,itsfrontlegschurningearth,rearlegslocking.Clodsofdirtfleweverywhere.
Itsmomentumwastoostrong;itskiddedandslidinathree-quarterturn,andtumbledovertheedgeofthecliffthatmusthavebeenfivehundredfeetdeepifitwasaninch.
Asitplummeted,itletoutadragon-sizehowlofdistress,alltheworld’ssirensturnedonatonce,ringinginBuffy’searsasitdroppedaway.Buffyalmostfeltbadforit—probablyactingpurelyoninstinct.Walnutbrain,sawmeasathreatanditattacked,andIoutsmarteditwithoutevenbreakingasweat.Shestartedtowardtheedgetoseehowfardownitwas,andtomakesurethatthedragonwasreallygone.
Whichwaswhensheheardthethunderofleatherywingsfillingwithair.
Right,shethought.Theyfly.
Thatwaswhenshedecidedrunningwasthebestidea,afterall.
Withnoothergoalinsight,Buffystruckoutforthecastle.HerSlayerstrengthcoursedthroughherandsheranfarfasterthanthestrongestOlympicchampion,eatingthespacebeneathherwithlongeasystrides.Butbehindhersheheardthepitchofthewingbeatschangeandknewthethinghadtoppedthecliff.Shehazardedaglanceoverhershoulderandsawitcraningitsheadonitsrubberyneckandthen,apparentlyspottingher,itflatteneditsbodytocutwindresistanceandcamestraightforher.
Sheranafewmoreyardsandthenstopped,notwantingherbacktoitwhenitgottoher.Sheturnedandwaited,handsonherthighsforamoment,catchingherbreath,tryingtocomeupwithanotherplan.
Absolutelynothingoccurredtoher.Andthethingclosedin,salivaglisteninginitsopenmouth.
NowIknowwhatacrabpufffeelslikeataparty,shethought.Exceptforthepartwhereit’salreadydead.
Buffyheldstill,waitingforit.Itshotbreathblastedherasitgrewcloser,andstillshefroze,knowingthefutilityofdodgingrightorleft.Itsheadgrewenormousbeforeher,thesizeofabus.Thenitreallywasonher,closeenoughforhertoseeitspink,raggedgumsandsharp-edgedindigotongue,andfinallyshemoved.
Shehurledherselfflatagainstthegrass,andthedragon’slowerjaw,swoopinginatwaistheight,wassuddenlyaboveher.Shekickedupwithbothlegs,ashardasshecould,intoitslongjaw.Sheheardteethslamtogether,andthoughtshefeltbonessnapunderherkick.Thedragonlurched,mid-flight,andliftedoffhigher,asiftoavoidanotherattack.
Butitcircledquickly,remarkablyagileinflight,anddovetowardheragain,jawsopenoncemore.Bloodmixedwithspittleflewfromitsopenmouth.Shewaiteduntilitwasclose,hopefullytooclosetomaneuver,andthenthrewherselftotheside.Butitsheadfollowed,itshugejawsnappingshut,andoneofitsteethsnaggedheroutflungleg,rippingthroughherblackleatherpantsandtearingherskin.
Buffyrolledtoasittingposition,scootingoutofthedragon’sreachandglancingatherinjury.Ithadleftalongcutthatalreadybleddownhercalf.
Shedidn’thavetimetoworryaboutit,though,becausethedragonhadlandedandwasextendingitssnouttowardher,mouthopeningforanothertry.Thistimesheflungherselfrightatit,bringingherhandsdownontopofitssnoutandcatapultingherselfupontoitsneck.There,shespunandsatdownquickly,legsclampedaroundthesidesofitsneckasifitwereahorseandshearider.Thedragonshookitsheadviolently,tryingtodislodgeher,butshegrabbedtwofistfulsofscalyfleshandhungon.Itthrewbackitshead,asiftocrushheragainstitsownback,butitwasn’tflexibleenoughtoaccomplishthat.Itwrithedandsnarledandsnapped.Buffyheldontight,digginginwithherhandsandlegs,ridingouteveryattemptitmadetothrowheroff.
Finally,ittookflight.
Itshugewingsunfolded,spreadingouttoafullspanthatmusthavebeenthirtyfeet.Thebeastflappedthemacoupleoftimes,pushingitsfrontendintotheairwithitspowerfulhaunches,andthenitwasairborne.
withitspowerfulhaunches,andthenitwasairborne.
This,Iamnotliking,Buffythought.Atall.
Theygainedaltitudequickly,andwithinmomentshadclimbedabovethetreetops.Buffyfeltarushofvertigolookingdownatthelandscapethatpassedsorapidlybeneathher,andsofardown.Thedragonmadeitworsebysoaringintoabankedturnloadedwithnot-so-deliciousand-nutritiousG-forces.Herholdonthedragonstartedtoslip—herhandsweresweating,andherleg,slickwithblood,couldn’tgripwellenoughtokeepheronifthethingkeptthisup.
Fallingintoabunchoftreesfromadragon’sbackwasnotoneofthewaysshehadcontemplateddying,andshehad,sherealized,consideredlotsofdifferentways.
Butbeforeshefell,thedragonrighteditselfandshesettledbackintothenaturalsaddlewhereitsneckmetitsshoulders.Andthewholeunsettlingexperiencehadgivenheranidea.
Thethingwas,shewasn’tsurehowtoputitintoaction.
Andtheotherthingwas,ifshedidputitintoactionshemightendupkillingherself.
Ifitwasachoicebetweenkillingherselfandthedragon,orjustdying,sheresolvedtotakethemonsteroutwithher.
Soshemadethemove.
Shehadtoforceherselftoletgoofitsneckwithherrighthand.Herfistleftamarkinitsgreenflesh,whichshefoundsomewhatencouraging.Shehopedshehadhurtit,sinceitsoobviouslywasintentonkillingher.Shedidn’tleaveherhandemptyforlong,butinsteadleanedforward—risingoutofherseatwhenshecouldn’tquitereach—andmanagedtoclampherhanddownonitsrightear.Shepulled.Thedragonloosedaroarthatshookitsentirebody,anddroppedtwentyfeetorsointheair.Buffyfeltherstomachlurch.
Shedidthesamethingwithherlefthand,grabbingtheleftear.
Thedragonbellowed,shakingitsheadasfuriouslyasadogcomingoutofthebath.Buffywasnearlytornfromherhold,butshemanagedtomaintainagrip.
bath.Buffywasnearlytornfromherhold,butshemanagedtomaintainagrip.
Thedragondroppedanotherfewfeet,itswingsworkingattryingtoswattheriderfromitsbackinsteadofkeepingthemaloft.
AndBuffyletgoagain,withherrighthand.
Thistime,shehadtotrustthestrengthinherlefthandandletgowithherlegsaltogether,toreachoutfarenough.Butshewasabletodoit.Sheballedherfist,andslammeditintothedragon’srighteye.
Thethingscreechedwithpainandtiltedsuddenlytotheleft,goingintoaspinningfreefall.
Buffycaughtholdwithherrighthandagain,justbelowitsrightear,andhuggedastightlyasshecouldwithherlegs.Evenso,shefeltthecentrifugalforceandtherushingwindconspiringtotearheroff.Everymusclesheownedscreamedwithpain.ShehadneverpushedherSlayerstrengthtothisextent,buttoletgowasevenmorecertainsuicidethanhangingon.
Theworldspuncrazilytowardher,fasterwitheachpassingsecond.Shecaughtaglimpseofthemeadowbelow,andknewsheneededtodoonemorething.Ignoringeverythinghermindshoutedather,sheforcedherselftoletgoagain,andshetookanotherswatatitseye.Again,itthrewitsheadtotheleft,awayfromtheattack,anditsdizzying,spinningdescenttiltedthatway.
Wheretherehadbeenmeadowbelow,nowthereweretreetops,andBuffyandthedragonwereheadingstraightintothem.Asifitrealizedsuddenlywhatwashappening,itarcheditsbackandbegantoflutteritswingsrapidly.Forabriefmoment,itseemedtoslowitswildfall.Butonlyforamoment,andthenitwastoolate.
Buffythrewherselffreeatthemomentofimpact,curlingherselfastightlyasshecouldasthick-leafedtreesslammedintoher.
Overthecrashofbranchesandthepainofadozensticksdrivingintoherflesh,sheheardthedragon’sexplosiveimpact.Buffyfellthroughthebranches,snappingmany,finallylandingonthegroundwiththewindknockedoutofher,bleedingfrommorecutsthanshecouldimaginecountingfortherestofherlife.Shekepthereyesopen,though,notwantingthedragontolandonher.
Buttherewasnotmuchchanceofthat.Outweighingherbyathousandpounds
Buttherewasnotmuchchanceofthat.Outweighingherbyathousandpoundsorso,thebranchespartedlikewaterbeforeitsmass—butthetreetrunksdidn’t.Thedragonhadimpaleditselfonseveralstraight,thicktrunks.Stuckfortyfeetorsooverherhead,ithadn’tquitedied,butthatwasonlyamatterofmomentsaway.Bloodrandownthetree’sbarklikeafountain.Thebeastkickedfruitlessly,itswingstwitching.Buffyfeltanothermomentofpity,butwhenshetriedtostand,thepaininhercalfremindedherthatitreallyhadbeenakillorbekilledsituation,andshehaddonewhatsheneededtodotosurvive.
Betthat’sthebiggeststakeI’lleveruseinmycareer,shethought.
Shelookedaway,towardthestill-distantcastle,butthenshelookedbackquicklybecauseshehadoneofthosecorner-of-the-eyethingswheresomethingseemstobechanging.Andwhenshelookedbackatthebeastinthetrees,itwasdefinitelychanging.Itswholebodyshimmered,asifliquefying,andasshewatched,itbegantoshrink.
Soyoucan’tdust’em,butyoucanreducethemfromgianteconomysizetominiature.
Buteventhatwaswrong,becauseitwasn’tjustshrinking—itwaschangingshape.Itsneckbecameshorter,itswingsvanished,itslegslengthened,andbythetimeitstoppedtransforming,itwasashapeBuffyrecognizedalltoowell.
Ithadbecomeaman.Amanimpaledonasingletreetrunk,butamannonetheless.Hewasasnakedasthedragonhadbeen—notthattherewouldhavebeenmuchofhimlefttohangclothesonifhedidhaveclothes.
Andtheworstpartwas,hewasn’tdead.Lotsofpain,sure,butnotdead.
Yet.
Sheracedtohelphim,pushingherwaythroughthestubblythicket,ignoringfreshscratchesandcutsasbranchessmackedandslicedher.
He’sgottobeanenchantedprinceorsomething.That’dfitintothiswholefracturedfairytalethemethat’sgoingonhere.
She’dalwaysheardfairytaleshadancientrootsthatweredarkerthanMadonna’s,buthadneverreallyknownquitehowdarkuntilshewatchedthemanwrithinginpainwithatreethroughhissternum.
manwrithinginpainwithatreethroughhissternum.
“Hangon,”shecalled,liftingalimboverherheadandthrowingitoutofherpath.Shewasclosinginonhim,andshecouldsmellhisbloodonthewood—novampirespecialpower,justtoomuchofit.Waytoomuch.
Thenthetrunkbrokeandthemantumbledtotheearth,landingwithasickening,wetthwopabouttenfeetfromher.
Whenitseemedlikenothingcouldmakethingsworse,themanspoke.
“Th-thankyou,”hesaid,inperfectthoughoddlyaccentedEnglishassherusheduptohimandlandedonherkneesbesidehim.
“Me?”Buffyrepliedwithouteventhinking.“You’rethankingme?Ijustshishkabobbedyou.”
“Youfreedme,”themansaid,writhinginagony.“Fromthe-thecurse.”
Thecurse.Ofcourse.Hadtobeacurse.
“Thisisbetter?”sheasked.
Hecoughed,clearlyweakening.“But-butyouarenotyetfinished,”hesaid.“Shewaits,inthetower.Sheneedsyou.”
“Shecanwait,”shesaid.Whoeversheis.
Themancoughedagain,awrackingcoughthatseemedtoconsumeallthestrengthhehadleft.Whenhespokeagain,shecouldbarelyhearhim.
“Th-thep-princess.”
Theprincess,Buffythought.Whatelse?
“Shewasbroughthereagainstherwill,”headded.
Saywhat?
“Broughtfromwhere?How?”
“M-magick.ShesaidshewasfromthelandofAlay.”
“M-magick.ShesaidshewasfromthelandofAlay.”
“L.A.?”sheasked.“Isthatwhatshesaid?”
Bloodburbledoutofhismouth.
Hestoppedcoughing.
*
AngelsawBuffyinthedistanceassoonashesteppedthroughthedoor.
Thelandscapewasobscuredbyathickfog,wetandcoldonhisskin,buthespottedtheblondhairandslenderbuildthroughabriefpartinginthemist.Thewomanwasrunning,andfromthebreathlesspantingandthehalf-sobbingsoundsshemade,itwasclearthatshewasintrouble.
Hewasalreadyinmotion,runningdownthehilltowardher,whenherealizedthatBuffywouldn’tmakethatnoise.Hewassupposedtofindherwhenhewentthrough,soofcourseheassumedthatthefirstblondehesawwasBuffy.
Butwhoevershewas,shewasintrouble,andBuffydidn’tappeartobeanywherecloseby.Atleast,notthathecouldseethroughthepreternaturallyheavyfog.
Throughanothermomentarybreakinthemisthesawwhatshewasrunningfrom—twopowerfullybuiltmenwithlong,loosehairandwildexpressions,chasingherwithancientweaponsintheirhands.
WhenAngelreachedthebottomoftheslope,comingoutintoakindofnarrowvalley,hehadabetterviewofthewholebizarreaffair.Themenlookedlikehistoricalbarbariansofsomekind—orfictionalones—wearingonlyloinclothsofanimalskinandsomehammeredmetaljewelry.Oneswungafour-foot-longbroadswordoverhisheadinrapidcircles,whiletheotherclutchedanornatebattleaxintwooversizefists.Thewoman,nowthatAngelcouldseeher,wassimilarlyattired,inametalbreastplatethatendedwellaboveherbellyandalongskirtmadeofleatherthatwasslitupbothsides.Shewasnotadornedwithanyjewelry,andherwaist-lengthhairflowedfreelyassheran.
Butherrunningwascomingtoanend,forthesword-wieldingbarbarian,whowasasblondasthewoman,caughtuptoher.Hegrabbedafistfulofherluxurioushairandyanked,tuggingheroff-balance.Shefellintoaheapathis
luxurioushairandyanked,tuggingheroff-balance.Shefellintoaheapathisfeet,andtheotherguy,whosehairwasasdarkastar,caughtup.
Theybothstoodoverherandlaughed.TheirlaughtersoundedtoAngellikethatofmenatasportingevent,likeguyshavingagoodguy-timetogether.Butthewoman’sscreamsbeliedthatappearance.
Angeldidn’tthinktwice,butletoutagruntofhisownasheplowedintothetwomen.Hecaughttheblondoneintheribswithhisshoulder,lashingoutwithhisfeettokicktheotherguy’sbattleaxfromhishands.Angelandtheblondguybothstumbledoverthewomanandcrashedtotheground.Shescreamedagain,scramblingtoherfeet.ThedarkerguylungedforherbutAngelreachedoutandsnaggedhiswristinbothhands,tryingtobenditlikeapretzel.Heheardbonesbreak,andthemanshriekedinpain,fallingtohiskneesandcradlinghisarminhisotherhand.
AngelbegantoturnbacktowardtheblondguybutthemanhadrecoveredfasterthanAngelexpectedandslicedhisswordtowardAngel’sback.ThesteelbitintoAngel’sfleshanddrovethrough,theswordpointfindingtheairinfrontofAngel’sstomachamomentlater.Angelgrunted,fallingforward,clutchingattheswordashedid.Helandedonhisstomachinthedirt.Thebarbarianstoodbehindhim,placedonefootonAngel’sback,andwithdrewhissword.
“Iguessthatwillteachyoutomeddleintheaffairsofothers,”themansaid.AngelunderstoodthewordsasiftheywereEnglish,althoughsomehow,heknewtheyweren’t.
Hewaitedthereinthedirt,tryingtogatherhisstrength,bitingbacktheincrediblepain.Assoonastheswordwasremoved,hishealingprocesshadbegun,butitwouldtakesometimetogetoverawoundthatmajor.Inthemeantime,Angelwasweakened.
“Now,”themanwassayingbehindhim.“Wherewerewe?”
“Myarm,”thedarkoneblubbered.“Hebrokemyarm—”
“Silence,”theblondguysaid.“Wehavebusinesswiththislittleone.”“No,please,”thewoman’svoicepleaded.“Ibegyou—”
“It’stoolateforbegging,mylovelything.It’syourheadtheywantintheGreatHallnow.”
Hallnow.”
Thewomanbrokedownintogulpingsobs,andAngelknewhehadtomakehismove.
Ignoringthepain,heshovedhimselftohisfeetandleapedintotheair,spinningashedidso.Inmidair,hekickedoutatthebackoftheblondguy’shead.Hisfootconnectedwithasickeningimpactandhesawthemancrumpleforward,towardthewoman,hisheadexplodingoutwardinafinesprayofredandgray.Herscreamsturnedfrompiercingtosoundless,hermouthworkingbutnosoundissuingfromit.Thedarkerguyraisedhisbattleaxinhisremaininggoodhand,butAngelhittheground,rolled,cameupwithhisarmextendedandstraight-armedthemaninthethroat,insidetherangeofhisax.Themanmadeagaggingnoiseanddropped.
Angelwobbledonhisfeet,painnearlyoverwhelminghim,buthemanagedtoremainstanding.Thewomancontinuedhersoundlessscreaming,buthecouldseethroughsquintedeyesthatshewastryingtocontrolit,anditturnedgraduallyintoaseriesofhitchingsobsastearsrandownhercheeks.
Heinhaledandfeltanothersharppangfromwheretheswordhadgonethroughhim.Holdinginthebreath,heturnedhisheadtowardthesun,and—
—thesun.
Angelwasstandingoutdoors,inavalley.Here,thefogwaslight,andtherewasnothingbutskybetweenhimandaburningsun.Ittookhimaquarterofasecondtorealizewhatwaswrongwiththispicture,andwhenhedid,itwasthestrangestthingyetinawholeseriesofstrangenesses.
Thesun’sblue,hethought.Notyellow,notwhite.TheblueofaBelAirswimmingpool.Floatingthereinacleargreenskythecolorofemeralds,andbakingthehardredearthunderitsrays.
AndI’mnotevensomuchassmoldering.
Itwasaremarkablefeeling,akindofliberation.Whateverplacethiswas,itwasaplacewherehecouldwalkfreelyinthedaytime.Which,forAngel,hadn’thappenedveryofteninthepastcoupleofhundredyears.Thesensationofwarmthwasunbelievable.Exquisite.
Itonlyraisedonedisturbingquestion.
Itonlyraisedonedisturbingquestion.
I’msafeintheirsun,butwhatabouttheirmoon?
Chapter2
THETHINGHADSURELYSEENHER.
SalmadelaNatividadbroughtahandtohermouthtostifleherlittlegaspoffear,butitwastoolateand,truthtotell,itdidn’tmatteranyway,ifthegiantcreaturehadalreadynoticedher.Andshewasconvincedthatithad.Ithadrushedbythetunnelinwhichshestood,pressedagainsttheslickstonewall,andithadseemedtohesitatefortheslightestmoment,asifsensingher.Maybeithadn’tseenher—whatusewouldeyesbetoanundergroundmonster,spendingitsliferushingthroughtunnelsbarelylargerindiameterthanitwas?Butithadotherwaystoknowshewasthere,sheguessed.Maybeitcouldpickupvibrationsinthetunnels,whereshehaddisplacedtheair.Maybeithadanabnormallysensitivesenseofsmell,ortaste.Maybeitcouldhearthebloodcoursingthroughherveins,thedoublethumpofherheart.
Itrushedpastthetunnelopening,withthespeedandimpactofanexpresssubwayroaringpastaplatform.SalmahadbeentoManhattanonseveraloccasions,and,whilesheusuallytraveledinlimousines,ortaxis,onherlasttripthere,withherparents,shehadbeggedtorideonthesubway.Theyhadobligedher,andsherememberedreachingtheplatformjustasonerumbledpast,rememberedthegreatrushofwindandnoisethatseemedtorecedeevenasthetrainwasstillrightinfrontofher.
Butthecreature—shethoughtofitasaworm,eventhoughitwasunthinkablylargerthananywormSalmahadeverseen,orimagined—keptongoing.Itdidn’ttrytoturnaround,didn’tbackupandcomeafterher.AmIsafehere?shewondered.Orisstayingheresuicide?
Therewasnowaytoknow.Sheadvanced,eversoslowly,keepingonehandalwaysagainstthedisgustinglymoistwallforbalance,totheopeningofthetunneldownwhichthewormhadjustdisappeared.Asshenearedit,astench
tunneldownwhichthewormhadjustdisappeared.Asshenearedit,astenchrosetogreether,aworsesmelleventhanintherestoftheputridtunnels.Itwastheodorofsomethingunclean,somethingthatneversawthesunorbreathedthefreshair,butexistedinitsownuniverseoffilthanddeathanddegradation.Salmachokedonit,andspatintothemuck.
Atthetunnel’smouth,though,therewasnosignofthewormsavethelingeringsmell.Itwasunlikelythatthethingwouldcomestraightbackthroughthissametunnel,shethought;itwouldhavetobeabletoturnaroundtodothat,andshedoubtedthatitcould.Sosheriskedsteppingoutintothattunnel,blinkingintothedarknesstoseeiftherewereanythingherethatshehadn’tseeninalltheothers.
Theanswerwasno.Itwasexactlyliketheothers,onlystinkier,andsomethingfouldrippedfromtheceilingtosplashwetlybeforeher,asifdisturbedbythecreature’spassing.Butonetunnelwasasgoodasanothertosomeonewhohadnoclueastowhereshewasorwheresheneededtogo.Salmaheadedinthedirectionawayfromwherethewormhadgone,notwantingtofindherselfcomingupbehindit.
Asshemadeherwaythroughthethickstewsurroundingherfeet,shepassedthreemoretunnelopenings.Noneofthemseemedanymoreusefulthananyother,though,soshestayedwhereshewas,figuringasteadycoursewasbetterthanroamingrandomlythroughthemaze.
Butwhenshepassedthefourthopening,itcameather.
Itwasonlyyardsaway,thelengthofabowlingalley.
Shecouldn’ttellifithadbeenmovingbeforeitsawher,orifitrested,waitingforhertocomealong.Butassoonassheshowedherselfinfrontofitstunnel,thethinglunged,coveringgroundlikearacecar.
Salmascreamedandran.Shesobbeduntilsherealizedthatthatusedairandenergysheneededforrunning,andthensheclampedhermouthshutandhelditinandranharder.Feargrippedeveryinchofher,butsheknewshecouldn’tallowittofreezeherorevenslowher.Beforeher,shesawherparents,inthelivingroomoftheirhomeinLosAngeles.ShesawherbrotherNicky.Shesawhergrandmotherandgrandfather.Sheknewwhattheseimagesweretellingher—saveyourself,soyoucangethometous.We’rewaitingforyou.Hurryhome.
I’mtrying,shethought.Sherantowardtheimages,asifshecouldrunstraightfromhereintoherhouse—asifshecouldreversetheprocessbywhichshehadcomehere,walkingintoashimmeringgoldencirclebyaccidentandcomingoutinafieldwhereshewascapturedbymountedsoldiers.
Butbehindher,thewormcharged.Shefeltitsbreath,sauna-wetandsearing,againstherbackandlegs,assheran.Ithadteeththatclickedtogether,anditspassagethroughthetunnelsgeneratedthefamiliarsubwayroar,butithadnovoice,andshehadseennolimbs.Itwasjustalongtubewithahorrible,fangedfaceatthefront.Andthosefangsweremerefeetbehindhernow.
Themuckclawedatherlegswitheverystep,slowingherdown.Thewormsufferednolossofspeedfromit—itwasasifthethingwasmadeforthisenvironment,orhadmadetheenvironmentitself,carvingoreatingthetunnelsintoexistenceinthefirstplace.Therewasnowayshe’dbeabletooutrunitforlong.Already,itnippedattheflowinggownshe’dbeendressedin.Onemoregoodlungeanditwouldhaveher.
Sheforcedherselfon,despitecertaindoom,andcametoanothersidetunnel.Shehurledherselfintoit,barelymakingtheturn,losingherbalanceandslammingintothesidewallhardenoughtomakeherseestarsandfallintothegoo.Butthewormcouldn’tturnasfastasshecouldanditkepton,rushingdownthetunnelshe’djustleft.
Salmasprawledinthemuck,breathinghard.Tearsthreatenedtoreturn,butdidnot;insteadofsorrow,shenowfeltthesuddenheatoffurycoloringherface.Shehadbeenmadetorunfromsomethingbecauseshecouldn’tfightit.SheknewshewasnoBuffySummers,abletodobattleagainstcreatureslikethis.Runningfromproblemshadbeenherwayofdealingwiththem—justasshehadlefthome,togotoschoolinSunnydale,wherepeopledidn’tknowwhoshewas:arichgirl,aprivilegedchild,whooftenwonderediftheotherkidshadbecomeherfriendsbecauseofherorbecauseofherwealth.
Comparedtogiantflesh-eatingworms,shethought,theaggravationsofbeingadelaNatividadaretiny.Shecouldbarelyrememberwhatitwasshehadn’tlikedaboutlivingathome.Restrictionsonhertimeandsociallife,ofcourse,butnotespeciallyonerousones.Alwayshavingtoconsidertheneedsanddesiresofherparents,grandparents,andbrother.Butthatwaswhatbeinginafamilymeant.Thatshewasn’taloneintheworld,thatshehadotherstocareabout,otherswho,
inturn,caredabouther.
Shewascertainlyalonenow.Andthatwormcouldbecomingbackatanytime.Chargedupandangry,Salmastood,wipedthegunkoffherself,anddeterminedtofindawayoutofthetunnelsnomatterwhat.
LosAngeles
HelicoptersbuzzedoverthecitylikesomanyenrageddragonfliesorthesoundtracktoaVietnamwarmovie.ShirleyCaineglancedupatthemasshecrossedtheparkinglottowardFoodstuffsMarket;somanytheydottedtheblueskylikebugsonascreendoor,andshecouldn’tbegintoimaginewhattheyallwere.Police,shefigured,andnewsstations.Theimagesshe’dseenonherTVathomewerealmostenoughtomakehernotwanttoleavethehouse,butshedidn’treallyhaveachoice—afamilyneededtoeat,andshehadn’tthoughttostockup,asothersapparentlyhad,beforethingsgotsobadoutside.
Accordingtothenews,morethanadozenpeoplehadbeenkilledinthelasttwelvehours,caughtinthecrossfirebetweenrivalgangs.Peoplewerebeingadvisedtostayindoorsandawayfromtheirwindows,andtoavoidanyunnecessarytrips.LosAngeleshadbecomeawarzone,andnobodywastotallysafe.InMontereyPark,citizenshadformedakindofarmedNeighborhoodWatchprogram,butthreeofthemwerewoundedinashootoutwithgangmembers,andtheyhaddisbanded,runningbacktotherelativesafetyoftheirhomes.
Butthesethingshadn’tbeenhappeninginShirley’sneighborhood,soshefigureditwouldbesafeforhertomakeaquickruntothemarket.Afterall,withtwoteenagersinthehouse—nottomentionherhusband,Henry,who,itseemed,couldconsumehisownweightinfoodeveryday—thesuppliesdwindledfast,andifshecouldn’tfeedthemathomethey’djustlookelsewhere.That,shethought,wouldbemoredangerousthanjustshoppingherself.
AsforHenry,hehadsprainedhisanklerunningfromhisofficetohiscar,spookedbywhathehadthoughtwasagangmemberbutwhoturnedouttobehisboss.Mr.D’Angelowashurryingafterhimwithsomelast-minuterevisionsonhisreportaboutawatertreatmentfacilitythefirmwasgoingtobuildinEncino.NowHenrywashome,legbandaged,icepackinplace,andshetoldhimtostayhomeandwatchthekidswhileshewenttothestore.
tostayhomeandwatchthekidswhileshewenttothestore.
Actually,shewasalittlepissedoffathimthathe’dlethergowithoutmuchprotest,justa“becareful.”Whenshe’dleftthehouse,he’dbeenlostinhisreport—businessasusual,waterproblemsandriotsinthisgod-forsakencity—andshetriedtotellherselfthathiscasualattitudemeantthatshewasoverreactingabouttheamountofdangerhertripentailed,andnotthathewasn’tworriedsickabouthersafety.
Still,thehelicoptersdidseemtobealmostdirectlyoverhead.Andthosescreamingsirensmightbedrawingcloser.Shehurriedtowardthecloseddoorsofthemarket,andwhateverrelativesafetylayinside.
Shehadjustreachedtherubbermatinfrontoftheautomaticdoors—thinking,incongruously,thatperhapsshehadalwaysbeenwrong,itwasprobablyanelectriceyeoverthedoorsthatopenedthem,andnotsomemachineryconcealedbeneaththemat—whenthetwodarkcarsbarreledintotheparkinglot.Brakessquealedasthefirstonechargedin,slowingtoavoidrammingintothefewparkedcars,thenshottowardthelot’sotherexit.Butthesecondcar,anticipatingthatmove,tookadifferentrouteandzoomedtowardthatexittocutthefirstcaroff.Bothslammedtoasuddenstandstill,smokebillowingfromtheirwheelwells.Thenthefiringstarted,gunbarrelssmashingwindowsinbothcars,burstsofflameflaringfromthem,loudstutteringpops.Glassshattered,intheircarsandtheothersinthelot.
Shirley,frozenontherubbermatwiththesupermarketdoorhangingopen,wassuddenlyawareofsomeoneapproachingherfrominside.Herinstinctwastorun,buttheonlyplacetorunwasbackintotheparkinglotandthathadbecomeafree-firezone.
“Ma’am!”theguyinsidethestoresaid.Shelookedathimagain,realizedhewasastoreemployee,withagreenapronthathadFOODSTUFFSstampedonitandayellowplasticnametagpinnedtoit.“Please,ma’am,comeinquickly!”Hereachedouttoherfrominside,asifhewereafraidtoextendanymorethanonehandoutsidethedoor.Shirleysuddenlyunderstoodwhereshewasandwhatwasgoingon,almostasifwakingupfromhypnosisinducedbythecoptersandsirens.Shepassedthroughthedoorintothedarkenedinteriorofthestore.
Thereweren’tmanypeopleinside—adozen,atmost.Theyhuddledinthecheckoutlanes,presumablythinkingtheheavycounterscouldhelpkeepthemsafe.Shirleysawthemthereatthesamemomentthattheautomaticdoorsswung
safe.Shirleysawthemthereatthesamemomentthattheautomaticdoorsswungclosedbehindher,andsuddenlyhereyesfilledwithtears.
Dammit,Henry,shethought,youshouldhaveworriedaboutme.
“YouaresonotthechiefofallScoobs,Anya,”Xanderinsisted,astheywalkeddownMain,castingwaryvisualsweepsatthedevastationaroundthem.Sunnydalewasbeginningtoresembleallthosemoviesaboutthe“projects,”burned-outslumswheresociety’soutcastsdwelledlikesomanywoundedanimals.Thoughthey’dseenmonstersfromafar,nonehadgottencloseenoughtoposeanimmediatechallenge.
Sowehavetimetoindulgeinoneofourmajorformsofcoupleinteraction,Xanderthought,notunwarmly.Pleasantbickering.
“Who,then?”Anyaasked,skirtinganoverturnedtrashcan.“Ihavetheexperience.Areanyofyouathousandyearsold?Haveanyofyoubeenvengeancedemons?”
“I’mnotsurethosearenecessaryprerequisites,”Xanderpointedout.Healsopointedoutamovingclumpofsomethinggreenandickyaboutahundredfeetdownthestreet.Theywerecomingbackfromcheckingthelast-seenportalsightings,atGiles’ssuggestion.Noportalshadbeenvisible,oranyclose-rangemonsters,either.
“Andwhatare?”sheasked,flaring.“Whateveryoudo?Tellingjokesand...andmakingsurewehaveplentyofsnacks?”
Ouch.“Ididn’tsayIwasnecessarilytheguywhoshouldbeincharge,withBuffygone,”Xanderreplied,feelingabithuffy.“JustthatIwastheonewhohadbeenatitthelongest.Youknow,inthebeginningitwasprettymuchjustmeandWillowhelpingBuffy.”
“Oh,andGileswasn’tthere?HerWatcher?”
Xanderlookedathisfeet,rememberingtheearlydays.Heignoredthefist-sizeclumponthesidewalk,somethingvaguelyorganicandpossibly,formerlyalive.“Well,Iguesshewas.Buthewas,youknow,prettyBritishinthosedays.Stiffupperlip,tweedsuitandallthat.Hewasn’tsobigongettingoutandmixingitupwiththedemons.”Xanderdidn’tbringupthetimeshehimselfhadspenthidingfromvampires,orsidelinedbysomeminorinjury,orsimplyparalyzedby
hidingfromvampires,orsidelinedbysomeminorinjury,orsimplyparalyzedbyfear.“Shereallyleanedonmealot.”
“Thisisn’texactlyhowI’veheardit,”Anyasaid.
“Well,considerthesources,”Xandershotback.“Peoplewhowere...well,there...maynothavethebestrecollection.”
Theyturnedacorner.Intheyardofabigbrownshingledhouseamonstercarcasslay,fliesbuzzingaroundit.Aneighborhooddogsniffedatit,markedit,andranoff,tailbetweenitslegs.
“Whoelse,then?”Xanderasked,lookingatthemoundofdecayingflesh.“You’retoonewtothewhole,uhh,humanworld.”
“What’swrongwithGiles?”Anyareplied.“We’reoutherebecausehetoldustodothis.”
“Iknow,”Xandersaid.Itwaswhyhehadbroughtthesubjectupinthefirstplace—becauseheandAnyahadunquestioninglyfollowedGiles’sinstructions,andnowhewasquestioning.“Maybehe’sthebest,sincehewasaWatcherandall.Buthe’sworriedaboutBuffyandhe’snotmakingcareerdecisionsatthemoment.Orevendecisionsthatmightkeepusallaliveforanother,oh,tenminutes.AndTaraisstillsufferingfromlinkusinterruptus.So,thatleavesyouandme.”
“Also,Joyce,butIagreewithyouthere,”Anyasaid.“She’sawonderfulwomanbutafterall,thisisnotanartgallery.”
“Wellput,”Xandersaid,impressed.
“It’snotevenanartexhibit.Although,IhavetosaythatbackwhenIwasavengeancedemon,wedidhavesortofanannual‘show-and-tell’event.OnceIbroughtamanIhadcursedwithincurableitching.Itwashiswife’sidea.Seven-yearitch,getit?”Shelookedveryproud.“Ireceivedanhonorablemention.”
“AndnotforMissPersonality,I’mguessing,”hesaid.Atherlook,headdedquickly,“Althoughnow,youwouldcertainlywin.Acrosstheboard.Allthecategories.”
Shelookedpleased.“Therewasaleadershipcategory,”shesaid.“Iwouldwin
Shelookedpleased.“Therewasaleadershipcategory,”shesaid.“Iwouldwinthat,too,you’resaying.”
“Ahhh...”Curses...sotospeak.Foiledagain.
“AndIshouldremindyouthatI’molderthanGiles.Ipossessmuchmorewisdom.”
“Youseemyounger,though,”Xandersaid.“Notsomature.”Evenashespokethewords,herealizedwhathe’ddone.
Anyaspunonhim.“Nowyoudon’tthinkI’mmature?”
“Imeanmatureinthebadway,”Xanderdefended.“Notthegood,matureway.The,uhh,oldfogey,stickin-the-mudway.”
Sheregardedhimforalong,uncomfortablemoment.“I’mgladyoudon’tthinkI’manoldfogey,Xander,”shesaidfinally.“ConsideringthatI’m,youknow,ancient.Butnotfogeyish.”
“Hardlyfogeyishatall,”Xanderagreedgratefully.
Anyastartedwalkingagain,andXandertookacoupleofquickstepstokeepupwithher.“IguessIdon’tneedtobetheScoobyQueen,”shesaid.“I’mjusttryingtofigureoutmyplaceinthegroup,youknow.Youhaveaplace.Willowhasaplace.Gileshasaplace.EvenTaraisgettingherplace.What’smyplace?Xander’sex-demongirlfriend?”
“What’smyplace?”Xanderasked.
Sheflashedhimawarmsmile.“Exdriftingwanderer,occasionallyuseful,braveandwonderfulXander.”
“Wonderful?”Hefelthisfacecrimson.
“That’swhatIsaid.”
“Well,youknow,”Xandersaid,“untilBuffycomesback,IguessyoucanbetheScoobyQueen.Anyway,you’realwaysmyScoobyQueen.”
Anyastoppedshort,kissedhimonthecheek,andtookhishand.TheycontinuedbacktoGiles’splace.
backtoGiles’splace.
Itworked!I’min.
Spikefeltamoment’squeasinessandhisvisionblurred,butheblinkedacoupleoftimes,swallowed,andwilledhiseyestofocus.Heglancedbackoverhisshoulder,half-expectingtoseeGiles’slivingroomandtheScoobiesstaringathiminshock,throughaveilofgold.
Buttherewasnothinglikethatbehindhim.Hewasjustsomeplaceelse,anditwasasoddingstrangesomeplaceatthat.
Andstrangerstill,hecouldn’tseeBuffyanywhere.Ithadn’tbeenmorethanaminuteaftershe’dgonethroughthedoorthathe’dfollowed.Itwasimpossiblethatshe’dbeoutofsightsoquickly;therewasreallynoplaceforhertohidehere,thathecouldsee.
Spikehatednature.Andyethehadlandedinthemiddleofit,inaway.Hefoundhimselfinagentlyrollingmeadow,withfoot-tallgrassesswayinginasummerybreeze.Criesofnightbirdsandthebuzzofhiddeninsectsfilledtheair,andthearomawascleanandearthyandnatural.Afullmoonrodehighinthesky,castingitsshimmeringlightdownonthemeadowandglintingofftheriverthatSpikecouldseeandhear,maybehalfamileawayacrossthefields.
Butmaybeitwouldbeallright.MaybeitwasjustEarthnaturehehated,andthiswasdefinitelynotEarth.Heblinkedacoupleoftimes,butitallremained:themoon,thesky,thegrass,theriver,noBuffy.
But,hullo,themoonwasbloodred,andtheskyitdominatedwasadarkmagentacolor.Thegrassesseemedtohaveapinkishcast,butSpikecouldn’ttelliftheyweretheiractualcolororifthemoon’sluminescencemerelypaintedthemthatway.
It’sreallyfinethatBuffyisn’there,hethought.Slay-er’djustgetinmyway,andprobablygoallgirly-concernedwhenshefoundoutwhatI’mupto.
WatchingBuffyprepare,backatGiles’s,andthengothroughthemagickaldoorway,Spikehadbeenstruckbywhattheothersweresayingaboutthejourneyahead.Aninfinitenumberofuniverses,whereanythingoranyonemightbe.Worldswhereevolutionhadprogresseddownentirelydifferentpaths.Worldswheremonstersruledthedaysandthenights,wherepeoplewould
Worldswheremonstersruledthedaysandthenights,wherepeoplewouldhuddleinterror,knowingthattheywereonlykeptaroundasmeatforthetable.AsBuffyleft,SpikerealizedthatnothingreallyheldhimtohisoldEarth,hisoldreality.Cherycewasgone.Drusillawouldneverreturn.TauntingBuffyandhersoldierboywasallwellandgood,butnotthekindofthingamancouldmakealifetime’shobbyof,especiallywhenthatmanwasimmortal.
Andthenthethoughthadoccurredtohimallatonce,full-blown:Somewhereinallthoseotherworlds,therewouldbesomeonewhocouldgetthechipoutofhim.Oraworldwherethechipwouldn’twork,orwherehumansweren’tthedominantspeciesandhecoulddevelopatasteforsomeotherformofsustenance.Thepossibilitiesthroughthedoorwaywereinfinite,whereasathometheywerefartoostrictlylimited.
Sohewent,withnowordorwarning,andmadeitthroughthedoormomentsbeforeitblinkedoutofexistence.
Nowhehadnoideawherehewas—noidea,really,howtoevenbegintodefinewhat“where”mightmeanunderthesecircumstances.
Buthewasn’tgettinganywherejuststandinghereinameadowgazingatthemoon,lovelycolorthatitwas.Withnootherdestinationinmind,nosignofcivilizationthathecouldsee,hebegantowalktowardtheriver.
Bythetimehe’dcoveredaquarterofamile,hecouldsmellitontheair.Hestoppeddead,inhalingdeeply.Therewasnomistakingthatuniquetang,thecopperyscentthathecouldtasteatthebackofhisthroat.Spikethrewhisheadbackwithlaughter,thenresumedhiscoursefortheriver,runningnow,leapingacrossthefieldwithabandon.
Whenhereachedtheriver,hedescendeditslowbankandkneltbesideit,bendinghisfacetowardit.Theliquidwasblackinthemoonlight,butheknewthatcomesunrise,ifthereevenwereasuninthiswonderland,itwouldruncrimson.
Redasblood.
Hepushedhisfaceintotheriveranddrank.Feltthethickliquidfillhismouth,cascadedownhisthroat,anditwasbetterthanalover’skiss.
Theriverranwithhumanblood.Nothingelsecameclosetothatflavor,thatbouquet.Spikedrankdeeply,thenrolledoveronhisbacknexttotheriver,laughing,scoopinguphandfulsandlettingitdribbleoverhisface,intohismouth.Hehadworriedthathe’dnevertastethisagain,andherewasariverofit,flowingfreely,fortyfeetwideandwhoknewhowdeeporhowlong.Cherycewould’velovedtotryskinny-dippinginthis,hethoughtpensively.Stupidchip.
Whateverthisplacewas,itwasaparadiseforvampires.Spikehadneverimaginedsuchathingexisted,andyethereitwas,asimplematterofwalkingthroughadoorwayandhewasthere.Herose,dustedtheriverbankdirtfromhimself,andlookedaroundinthemoonlight.
Icanbuildahouserightthere,hethought.Runsomepipesupfromtheriverandhavehotandcoldrunningbloodwithouteverhavingtoleavemyownplace.MaybeputinaguestroomincaseBlondiecomesthroughlookingforsomethingtoslay.
Thatthoughtbroughtanotheronetothesurface—maybetherewereothershere,likehim,vampiresenjoyingthisheavenon—well,notEarth,butwherever.Withnoneedtohunt,nofearofbeingfoundoutandstaked,therewouldbearealcommunity,asharing,asenseoffamilyamongthemsuchashadneverexistedonEarth.
Hellwithit,hethought,mightbefuninspiteofthatrubbish.
Hetookanotherlongdrinkfromtheriverandstartedonhiswayagain,determinedtofindoutifanyonelivedthere.Forawhile,hekepttotheriverside,butaftertwentyminutesorso,hecameuponabridge—primitive,butclearlymadebyhumanlikehands.Itwasalow,stonestructure,asifsomeonehadpainstakinglypiledriverstonesontopofoneanothertoachievethenecessaryheight,andthenhadmortaredotherstogethertocreatethespan.Itdidn’tlookwideenoughforanykindofwheeledvehiclebiggerthanabicycle,andtherewasnoroadapproachingitanyway.ButasSpikescaledthebanktostandbesidethebridge,henoticedthattherewasapathbeatenthroughthegrasseshere,leadingtothebridgeandbeyonditinonedirection,andback,moreorlessthedirectionfromwhichhehadcome,intheother.
Hesteppedontothebridgeand,satisfiedofitssolidity,crossedit.Thiswasirrefutableevidencethatsomeonelivedhere,heknew.Othervampires?Orprey?Therewasnotelling,yet.
prey?Therewasnotelling,yet.
Hefollowedthepath,leavingtheblood-riverbehindhim.
Thegoingwaseasyonthedowntroddentrail,andSpikemovedataprettygoodclip.Ashewalked,thescarletmoonslippedlowerinthesky—betterkeepawatchonthat—butstillcastsufficientlighttoseeclearly.Hereckonedhehadbeenonthemoveforaboutanhourwhenhesawsomethingunnaturalbreakacrosshisview.Atfirst,hecouldn’tmakeoutwhatitwas,butitmarkedastraightline,which,inthesesoftlyrollinghills,seemedveryoutofplace.
Beforehereachedtheline,Spikecametoapointwhereanewpathforkedofftheonehefollowed.Hedidn’tknowwhereitwent,whilethisonepromisedtoleaddirectlytothisothersignofhabitation,soheignoredtheforkandkeptonthemainpath.Inanothertwentyminutes,hefoundoutwhatthelinewas:afence,adozenfeettall,cuttingacrossthefields.Itcontinuedasfarashecouldseeineitherdirection.Itwasasimplewirefence,muchasonewouldseeonEarth,withfourstrandsofbarbedwiretoppingit.Ontheothersidethefieldscontinued,sohecouldn’ttellwhatthefence’spurposewas—nowaytoknowifhewasfencedin,orout.
Hepickedupapieceofwoodandtappedthefence,gingerly.Noshock,soitdidn’tseemtobeelectrified.Climbingitwouldnotbeahardship,butthebarbsatthetopwerenotfun-making.Itbotheredhim,thefirststainonwhathadseemedlikeutterparadise.Andhehadacreeped-outfeelingashestoodbesideit,theoldsomeone’s-watching-mevibethatanyvamplearnedtotrustandtohate.
Spiketurnedandstrolledself-consciouslybacktowherethepathhadforked,andtookthesidetrail.Herealizedthathewasgrowingtired,thatallthiswalkingwaswearinghimout.Hedidn’tliketowalk,didn’tdomuchofitwhenhecouldavoidit.Hewasthinkingaboutfindingaflatspotoffthetrailtogetsomerestwhenhenoticedthatthepathseemedtobedippingoffthehills,towardarockyarea.Thatmightbebetter,hethought.I’llfindahidey-holesoifthesuncomesupIwon’tbecaughtoutinit.Hestruckoutfortherocks,realizingashegrewcloserthattheywerelargerthanthey’dlookedfromafar,twentyorthirtyfeettallinspots.Theyseemedrandomlyscatteredacrossthelandscape,asifagianttoddlerhadbeentooboredtopickuphisblocks.
Spikehadjustenteredtherockyareawhenhewasattacked.
Thereweresixofthem,droppingfromthetoweringrocksandlungingfromshadows.Spiketookahalf-stepback,bracinghimselffortheonslaught.Thefirstonereachedforhim,butSpikedodgedhisgraspinghands,caughthiswrist,andyanked,usingtheman’sownmomentumtothrowhimintothedirt.Spikefoundhimselfsurprisedthattheyseemedtobehuman,oratleasthumanlike.Hehadn’tquiteknownwhattoexpect.
Thenexttwoplowedintohimatonce,knockinghimoffhisfeet.Theyalllandedinapileofflailingarmsandlegs.Spiketriedtoshoveawaytheonewhowasrightontopofhim,crushingthewindoutofhim,buttheotherclawedathisarmsandface.Ashepushedandpunched,hefeltwarm,raggedbreathonhisneck.Hetwistedandwrithedbuttheguycamecloser,andSpikeheardthegnashingofteeth.Whenhefeltascrapeonhisneck,heexplodedinanger.Hethrashedandtwistedandbothguyswentflying.Spikeleapedtohisfeet,vampingoutashedidso.
“Justwhatthebloodyhelldoyouthinkyou’redoing?!”hedemanded.“Keepyourbleedin’fangstoyourselves!”
Ahushfelloverthegroup.
Afteramoment,oneofthemsaid,“He’soneofus!”Thisonewastallandlanky,withstraight,greasyhairhangingdownaroundhisface.Asecondvampire,stocky,bald,andgoateed,touchedoneofhisownfangsasiftomakesureitwasstillthere.
“Ifyou’revampires,youbetyoursweetbicuspidsIam,”Spikesaid.
“’Coursewe’revampires,”anotheronesaid.Hehadonlyonearm,andastumpoftheotherinsideataped-insleeve.“Whoelsewouldbehere?”
“Whatdoyoumeanbythat?”Spikeasked.ItdawnedonhimthattheyallseemedtobespeakingEnglishtohim,thoughheclearlywasn’tinanyoftheEnglish-speakingnationshe’deverknown.“You’reallvampireshere?”
“Whatelse?”thegreasyoneasked.
“He’snewhere,”anotherguydeclared,stridingforwardconfidently.Hemovedlikeroyalty,andSpikeinstantlyfiguredhimfortheBigNoiseintheseparts—thisonehadstayedbackduringthefighting,anddidn’tdeigntostepupuntilitwassafe.Buthewaspowerfullybuilt,tallandbroad,withshortblackhairand
wassafe.Buthewaspowerfullybuilt,tallandbroad,withshortblackhairandheavy-liddedbrowneyessetintoahandsomeface.Spikehatedhiminstantly.“Ofcoursehedoesn’tknowwhat’sgoingon.”
“Thenwhydon’tyouenlightenme?”Spikeasked,smoothingdownhisplatinumhair.
TheguytookupapositioninfrontofSpikeandtheothersdroppedbackapace,lettingtheirspokesmanhavethefloor.“Idon’tknowwhereyoucamefrom,”hesaid.“Forthatmatter,noneofusknowsforsurehowwegothere,orwhereweare.Butweknowwhatwe’rein.Didyouseethefence?”
Spikeshrugged.“Isawit.”
“Ithoughtyouprobablyhad.Thenyoushouldbeabletofigureitout.We’reinacage.Others—notvampires—cometowatchus,toobserveourbehavior.”
RealizationdawnedonSpike,andtheideaturnedhisstomach.
“I’minasoddingzoo?”
Chapter3
LosAngeles
“ITHINKYOUALLKNOW,LADIESANDGENTLEMEN,THATwe’refacingaseriousproblemhere.”ThepolicecommissionerforthecityofLosAngelesstoodatthefrontoftheroominanexpensivegraysuitthatmatchedtheshort,steelgrayhaironhishead.Hiscoldblueeyeslookedattheassembledofficers.“Infact,anumberofproblems.Thiscityhasn’tbeenlookingatthismanyproblemsallatoncesincetheriotsoftheearlynineties.”
KateLockleywatchedhimclosely.Hewasn’tthekindofmanwhocametoaddressthetroopsoften,sowhenhedid,ithadtobesomethingprettysignificant.Hewasapolitician,notacop,thoughhehadcomeupthroughtheranks.Butthatwasalongtimeago,inadifferentkindofcity.Hiskindofpolicingdidn’tflyanymore,andhispoliticalskillsweresuchthathehadmanagedtoaltertheperceptionofhimselfsothathenolongerlooked,oreventhought,likethehard-nosedcopheoncewas.
Theroomwasaveritablewho’swhoofpolicebrass—captains,lieutenants,detectivesfromvarioussquads,aswellasanassortmentofotherlawenforcementofficials,includingL.A.Countysheriffs,theheadoftheFBI’slocalfieldofficeandsomeSpecialAgents,andafewU.S.marshals.Allofthemsatinsilence,afewmakingnotesonlegalpadsorsmallpocket-sizenotebooksasthecommissionercontinued.
“Itisn’tjustthegangwar,althoughthat’sthebiggestimmediatethreattopublicsafety,”hesaid,hisvoicegrave.“Andobviously,that’swherethemajorityofourforcesarenecessarilydeployedatthecurrenttime.”
Hehasacop’shabit,Katenoted,ofusingwaymorewordsthanheneedstosaysomething.Evenasacop’sdaughter,shehadneverquiteunderstoodthatimpulse.Shecouldn’ttelliftheythoughtitmadethemsoundmoreintelligent,orifitwassomekindofreactiontocomingintocontactwithtoomanylawyers,withtheirprofessionalnecessityforpreciseandritualizedlanguage.
Buthewascontinuing,andsherealizedshewasn’tlistening.Hehadturnedtowardalargemapofthecityspreadoutonawallbehindhim,withredandyellowandblueflagstickpinsstuckintoitatvariouspoints.
“...lootinginthesevicinities,”hewassayingashepointedtowardtheredpins.“ApowerstationinCarsonwasknockedoff-linebyanexplosion,whichiscurrentlyunderinvestigation,andintheensuingblackoutalargenumberofbusinesseswerebrokeninto.Weknowofthreedeathsthathaveoccurredasaresultofthisblackout,andwhenthesuspectsareidentifiedandapprehendedwehavethedistrictattorney’sassurancesthatthosesuspectswillbechargedwithhomicideinassociationwiththosedeaths.
“Thebluepinsrepresentteenagerswhohavedisappeared.Weknowthatthereis,asyet,noknowledgeorindicationastowhatmayhavehappenedtothem,betheyrunaways,betheykidnapvictims,oranythingelse.”
Katebitonherlowerliptokeepfromsayinganything.Sheknewfullwellwhathadhappenedtothem—notthatsheeverwouldhavebelievedit,ifshehadn’tbeenatCordeliaChase’sapartmentwhenAngelwentthroughastrangedoorwaycreatedbysomeRussiangirl.Thegirltoldhimitwouldtakehimtoasortofparalleluniverse,wherehecouldtrackdownthemissingteenagersandbringthemhome.
Ofcourse,Katecouldn’ttellhersuperiorsthat.Iftheybelievedher—notagiven—they’dsendaSWATteamtoCordelia’s,takeAlinaintocustody,andcompletelyignorethefactthattheyhadnounderstandingwhatsoeverofthekindofforcestheyweremessingwith.
Kate’sunderstandingwasonlysketchy,butmoreinformedthanhercolleagues’.EversincerealizingthatAngelwasavampire,she’dbeenstudyinguponthingsthatrationalpeopleconsignedtothecategoriesofsuperstitionandpurefoolishness.HerdiscoveryofAngel’snaturecoincidedwiththemurderofherfatheratthehandsofothervampires.Sheknew,intellectually,thatAngelwasn’tatfault,thathehad,infact,triedtosaveherfatherfromthem.Butemotionally,
atfault,thathehad,infact,triedtosaveherfatherfromthem.Butemotionally,thatknowledgedidn’thelp.HerrelationshipwithAngelhadbeenstrained,atbest,eversince.Learningabouthim,andhisbloodypast,onlystraineditmore.
Sonowshewasintheawkwardpositionofwithholdinginformationfromherdepartment,andkeepingknowledgeaboutmissingchildrenfromtheirworriedparents.Shedidn’tknowwhichshehatedmore.
“...individualsofelevatedposition,includingthemayor,aCaliforniasenatorandseveralelectedrepresentatives,”thecommissionerdronedon,“haveexpressedtothisdepartmenttheirconcernoverthissituationandtheirdesiretohaveitresolvedbeforeanotheryoungpersonturnsupmissing.”
Inotherwords,Katethought,thechildrenoftherichandpowerfulhavedisappearedalongwiththepooranddisenfranchised,sonowit’sbecomeimportantenoughtocareabout.Shecaughtherselfevenasshethoughtit.AmIacynic?shewondered.IalwayshopedIwouldn’tbe—don’tthinkacynicmakesagoodpoliceofficer,eventhoughsomanycopsarecynical.
Andanyway,howdoesone“turnupmissing?”Isn’tthatacontradiction?Ifsomeoneismissing,thenheorshehasn’tturnedupatall,right?
Shewasrelievedwhenthemeetingwasbroughttoafinishwithout,shebelieved,muchofanythingaccomplished.Butthecommissionerhadbeenabletolooklikehewasinvolvedandactive,andherunderstandingwasthathewasholdingapressconferenceimmediatelyafterthemeetingatwhichhewoulddeclareittohavebeenagreatsuccess.Andifthathelpedtobringsomedegreeofordertothecity,thenshesupposeditwouldhavebeenworthsittingthrough.
Sheworkedherwaythroughtheroom.Theaudiencewasmostlymenindarksuits,andshefelttheirglances,coollyappraising,sizingherup,andnotineverycasemeasuringherabilityasadetectivebutherworthasawoman.Shewasgladwhenshewasoutofthereandbackinhercar,headedtowardherstationhouseandthesquadwhoknewher.Shehadalotofworktodo.
“Letmegetthisright,”Buffysaid.“I’msupposedtobescaredofyou?BecauseIjustfoughtthisdragon,see,andhewasmuchbiggerand,ohyeah,wayscarierthanyouare.Sohowaboutifyoujustgetoutofmywayandwe’lltellpeopleIwasalltremblyandeverything,okay?”
TheBlackKnightwassilent.
TheBlackKnightwassilent.
Thatwashowshethoughtofhim,astheBlackKnight,capitalized.Shehadbeencontinuingonaforestedpathtowardthecastle,andtheprincessfromL.A.whowas,supposedly,imprisonedinatowerthere,andtheBlackKnighthadsteppedoutofastandofpines.Hewascompletelyencasedinobsidian-blackplatearmor,fromhishelmetdowntohismetalboots,andheclankedwhenhewalkedlikesomeonerummagingaroundinthepotsandpanscupboardathome.Hishelmetwasvaguelyegg-shapedwithapointedvisorthat,ifitwascustom-madetofitaroundhisnose,wouldhaveputhimsomewhereintheCyranodeBergeracterritory,nasallyspeaking.
Hestoodacrossthepath,blockingherway.Inhishandsheheldamassivespikedmace,itshandlealmostfourfeetlong,withatleastadozenthree-inchspikesjuttingfromitsbowlingball-sizehead.
ItwasthemacethatmadeBuffytakehimseriously.Onegoodshotwiththatwoulddoalotofdamage,andevenherSlayerhealingabilitieswouldhaveahardtimebringingherbackfrom,say,ablowtothehead.
Troublewas,forallitsweightandlength,hehandleditlikeitwasnothingmorethananaluminumbaseballbat.Itseemedvirtuallyweightlessinhisgauntletedhands.
“So,notmuchfortalking?”sheaskedhimcheerfully.“That’sokay.MyboyfriendthinksIcanprettymuchcarryaconversationallbymyselfanyway,youknow,so...”shetrailedoff.“Umm,movingasidenow?”
TheBlackKnightstoodsilent.Behindhim,thesunwasloweringoverthecastle,andhisshadowwasdarkandweirdlyproportioned.
“Because,yousee,there’sthismissing...princess,inthecastle,andI’mgoingtocheckonthat,”Buffywentonafteramoment.“AndIdon’tknowwhattimeitisoranything,butitseemslikethesoonerIgetthatdone,thebetter.”
TheBlackKnightsaidnothing.
“Okay,”Buffysaidwithashrug.“I’lljustgoaround.”Shesteppedoffthepath,intendingtoskirtpasttheBlackKnight.Hesteppedoffaswell,blockingherway.
Angelalloveragain,shethought.Hehadthedarkandsilentpartdown.Shewonderedifwhoeverworethearmorwasbroodinginsidethere.Shedecideditwastimetostoptryingtoengagehiminconversation.Shefeintedtowardtheothersideofthepath,andtheBlackKnightlungedthatwaytoblockher.Buthermovewasonlyafake,andshedoubledbacktotheKnight’sright,hopingtoleappasthimbeforehecouldrecover.
Herecovered.Herightedhimselfandswungthemace.Buffyflattenedherselfagainstthegroundanditwhistledaboveher,aboutwhereherwaistwouldhavebeenifshehadn’tdropped.Shedidn’tstaydownforlong,though,butshovedherselfbackuptooneknee,thenlaunchedherselfintotheair.Themacewascomingaroundagainforanothertry,butshewentaboveitandlandedwithbothfeetagainsttheKnight’sbreastplate.
Hestaggered,butkepthisbalance.
Buffylanded,breathinghard,andonlypartlyfromtheexertion.Thatshouldhaveknockedanyonetotheground,sheknew.Especiallyawalkingtincanwhosebalancecan’tbethatgreattobeginwith.Now,examiningtheKnightwithafreshperspective,shenoticedsomethingelsestrange.Hisvisordidn’tseemtohaveanyeyeslits.Itlookedlikeseamlessmetalplate.Whichwouldmeanthathe’sblindinthere,butthat’simpossible.HeknowsmymovesassoonasImakethem.
AsBuffyconsidered,headvanced,raisingthemaceforanotherswing.Sheheldhergrounduntilhewasinmotion,thensidesteppedit,spinningaroundandintoakickthatlandedjustbelowhisknee.Shefelttheimpactallthewayupherownleg,toherhip.ButtheKnightdidn’tseemtofeelitatall.Beforeshecouldclearhim,heletgoofthemacewithhislefthandandbattedather.Thebackofhisgauntletslammedintoherribs,knockingherflyingoffthepath.
Hewascomingatherevenasshepickedherselfup,becomingmoreaggressiveasthecombatworeon.Heretrievedthemacewithhisrighthandandswungitinatightcircleoverhishead,likeahelicopter’sblades.AsheboredownonBuffy,shepreparedforariskymove.Onceagain,shewaiteduntilhisattackwasunderwaysoshecouldgaugethearcofhisheavyspikedclub.Onthemace’sdownwardmotion,sheleapedintotheair,caughttheKnight’srightarm,andusedthattopropelherselfevenhigher,somersaultingoverhim.Midair,shetwistedlikeadiver,sothatonherdescentshefacedtheKnight’sback.Shereachedoutandcaughthishelmetwithbothhands,usingthattoslowherself
reachedoutandcaughthishelmetwithbothhands,usingthattoslowherselfdown.Thensheplantedbothfeetagainsthisbackandwrenchedonthehelmetwithallherstrength.
Thehelmetcamefreeinherhandsandshecrashedtothegroundwithit.Sherolledtoanuprightposition,stillclutchingit.Itwassurprisinglyheavy,andsheglancedinside,hopingnottoseeaverymessymess.
Itwasempty.
ShelookedbackattheBlackKnight.Wherethereshouldhavebeenahead,therewasn’t.Armoredshouldersledtoemptyspace.
AchillpassedthroughBuffy.Fightingvampiresanddemonswasonething,butshehadthoughtthiswasaregularpersoninasuit.
“Goodexcuseforgivingmethesilenttreatment,”shesaid.“Nohead,hardtobeablabbermouth.”
Theworstpartwas,beingheadlessdidn’tseemtoslowitdownabit.Evenasshestood,admiringtheheadlessthing’smobility,itturnedonherandraisedthemaceagain.Ifanything,itseemedfasternow,withoutahelmettoweighitdown.
Themacewhistledpasther,barelymissingherownhead.Shedodgedit,movinginsideitsarcandstrikingthearmoredbreastplatewithacombination—threeswiftjabs,right-left-right.TheKnighttookastepbackbutdidn’tfalter.Switchingthemacetohislefthand,hegrabbedather,snaggingherwristinhispowerfulgauntlet.Sheshook,tryingtofreeherself,butitdidnogood.Hisgripwasunbreakable.
Soshetriedadifferenttack,andbroughtherownfreehandtoitswrist.Usingthathandandthearmthatitheldasleverage,shebentthewristbackwardasfarasshecould,finallyfeelingasatisfyingsnap.Thearmoredhandbrokeoff,andlostitsgriponherwrist.Glancinginsideittoascertainthattherewas,infact,nohumanhandthere,shethrewthegauntlettothegroundandskippedoutoftheKnight’swayashetriedtoclosehisleftarm,stillwieldingthemace,aroundher.
MovingtotheKnight’srightside,totakeadvantageofitslackofarighthand,sheaimedaquicktrioofpowerfulkicksatitsmidsection,wherethebreastplateoverhungtheleggings.
overhungtheleggings.
TheKnightrockedunsteadilybackandforth,themaceinhislefthandwagglingashetriedtomaintainhisbalance.Buffylaunchedintoaflyingspin-kickandslammedintotheKnightinthesamespot,puttingeverythingshehadintoit.
TheKnightflewapart.Hisuppersectionclatteredtothegroundbehindhim,andhislegswobbledforasecondandthentippedoverwheretheywere.Whenhisupperpartcrashed,theleftarmsnappedoffandbouncedacoupleoffeetaway,themacefinallyslippingfromitsrelaxedgauntlet.
Buffysurveyedthedamage.“IfIknewcountrymusic,I’dsingafewbarsof‘IFalltoPieces,’”shepanted.“But,youknow,countrymusic?”
Shehopedthatthiswouldbethelastobstaclebeforeshereachedthecastle.Thesunwasalmostdownbehindthehillsthatrangedbeyondthecastle,andgoingintothatplaceinthedarkwasn’texactlysomethingshelookedforwardtoeagerly.
Shehadtakentwostepswhentherightgauntletclosedonheranklewithacrushinggrip.
LosAngeles
“No!”NickydelaNatividadshouted.Then,seeingthehurtonhisgrandmother’sface,heloweredhisvoice.“Iwon’tjustsitandwaitforher,”hewenton.“Ican’t.”
“Butyoumust,miangelito,”DoñaPilarpleaded.Theystoodinherlittlekitchen,whereshestirredahugeironkettlethatbubbledoveraburner.Nickyworealoosewhiteteeshirtthatexposedhismusculararms,stillbearingscorchmarksfromhisadventureatDelDeSola’soilfield.Hisheadwastotallydevoidofhair,withevenhiseyebrowsburnedoff,andthefaintestbreezefeltoddlycoolonhishead.Hesupposeditwouldtakesometimetogetusedto.“Buffyhasgoneafterheralready.WillowandIaredoingwhatwecantohelp,but—”
“Butwhatyoucandoisn’tmuch,isit?”Nickyinterrupted.“Sinceyou’velostcontactwithher...”
“Still,ifanyonehasaprayeroffindingSalmaandbringingherhome,wemust
“Still,ifanyonehasaprayeroffindingSalmaandbringingherhome,wemustbelievethatitisBuffy.”
“YouhavemorefaiththanI,’buela,”Nickysaid.“Butthen,youalwayshave.”
Hisgrandmotherstrokedhischeektenderly,gently.Nickyfeltapangdeepinhisgut.Hewasterrified.Hewantedsomeonetotellhimthateverythingwasgoingtobeallright.
“Ihavetriedtoinstillfaithinyousinceyouwereaninfant,Nicky.”Hervoicewasshaky.“Wehavenotalwaysbeenassuccessfulaswewouldhaveliked.ThefactthatyouwereabletoaccomplishtheritualoftheNightoftheLongKnivesmeansthatIhadsomeimpactonyou,no?”
“Impact,yes,”Nickyreplied,notquiteunderstandinghishostility.Wantingverymuchtoconfessthathewishedhehadmorefaith.“IguessIlearnedatrickortwoatyourknee.Butyouhavethatunshakablebeliefthatthingswillworkout,whichIcanneverevenapproach.Youlookathowtomakethingsright,whileIworryaboutwhatwillgowrong.”
Hescowledandturnedawayfromhisgrandmother.Forsomereasonthathecouldn’tputintowords,watchingherstirherpotioninfuriatedhim.Hefeltguilty,andhedidn’twanttoseeherdoingsomethinghehadalsodone—workmagick,andchangerealitywithit.
Heflungather,“It’snotworking.AndallweknowisthatBuffyissomeplaceotherthanshewas,butwedon’tevenknowifit’sthesamesomeplaceelsewhereSalmais.”
“Butwearetrying—”
“Allthisiswrong,”hesaidflatly.“Weshouldn’thavedoneit.”
“Itwasdone.”Shesighed.“Wecannotstopnow.”
Heballedhisfists,imagininghimselfwiththirtycamachosathisside,thirtyLatinCobrastokickthebuttsofwhoeverdidthistoSalma.They’dbesorrytheywereborn.
“She’smysister,”hesaid,turningaroundtofaceher,“soshe’smyresponsibility.”
responsibility.”
“Doyounotunderstand,Nicky?”DoñaPilaraskedsadly.Shesniffedatherkettle,madeaface,andreachedforajarofsomegreenishherbonaracknearby.Sheunscrewedthelidandtossedinapinchofwhateveritwas.Nickyknewsherarelylabeledherjars,trustinghermemoryandsensestokeeptrackofwhatwasineach.“IftherewereawaytosendsomeonedirectlytoSalma,”shecontinued,“wewouldhave.Findingherwillbeachallenge,evenwithWillowandmehelping,andBuffyisthebestpersonweknow—thebestpersononEarth—forthattask.”
“Becauseshe’saSlayer?”
“Sí,absolutely.BecausesheistheSlayer.Theoneandonly.Evenasayounggirl,growingup,oneheardwhisperedrumorsofSlayersfromthebrujos.ThereisnooneaspowerfulorasabletofacewhatevermightbeencounteredinthealternitieswhereSalmahasbeensent.”Hewantedhertoconvincehim.“Sure,she’stough,Iguess.Fromwhatyousay,soareWillowandtheothers.ButI’mtoughtoo,youknow.”
Hisgrandmotherputalovinghandonhisshoulder.Nickywasgrateful,buttriedtokeepthecoloroutofhischeeks.“Youarestrong,papi.Anddangerous—nodoubttoomuchsoforyourowngood.”Sheloweredherhandashemovedaway.“Butthekindofstrengthyoupossessisnotthekindoneneedsoverthere.”
“SoI’msupposedtowhat,justsitaroundthishouse?”Nickythrewhisarmsintotheair,asiftoemphasizewhathousehereferredto.“WhileSalmaisindanger,andmaybeBuffyistrackingherdownsomeplaceinaninfinitenumberofrealities,butmaybeshe’snot?EveninOaxacayouheardabouttheneedleinahaystack,right?Whatifyoudon’tevenknowwhichhaystacktolookin?Orwhichfieldofhay?”
“WhichiswhyWillowandIneedtohelpguideher,”shesaidpatiently.“Anddon’tforget,Angelislooking,too.”
“Great,”Nickysaidsarcastically.Hewaspracticallybeggingforherreassuranceasheshotdownherattemptstocomforthim.“Twopeople,searchinganinfinitenumberofpossibilities.Don’tyouthinkitwouldbebetteriftherewerethree?Thenwecoulddivideinfinityintothirdsandbefinished,oh,sometimebeforethesungoesnova,maybe.”
thesungoesnova,maybe.”
“Nicky,”DoñaPilarsaid.Shemadesettlingmotionswithherhands.“Wecouldsendamillionpeoplethroughanditwouldn’tbeenough.Withouthelpfromthisside,there’snohopeoffindingSalmaortheothers.Theoneswe’relookingforleftfromthisreality,sotherearetraceswecanfollow.Itisnotamatterofhavingenoughpeople,itissimplyamatterofguidingtheoneswhoarethere.”
“Ican’t,miabuelita,”Nickyargued.“Ican’tjustsitherewhilemysisterismissing.Especiallyifit’smyfault—”
“Oh,Nicky,itisn’t!”DoñaPilartookhiswidehandsinhertinyones.“Thisisnotyourfault.”Shedippedherhead.“Bueno,IdobelievethatthepassageintoSunnydalewaspartiallyyourfault.WhenyoubegantheritualsfortheNightoftheLongKnives,youaffectedtheatmosphereinSunnydale.ButyounevercouldhaveanticipatedthatAlinawouldbetestingtheRealityTraceratthesametimeyouwereworkingpowerfulmagick.”
“SobecauseIwasusingmagick,andshewasusinghermachine,”Nickysaid,“wecreatedmonstersthattearpeopleapart?”
“Theshadow,”shesaidsoftly.“Bueno.”
“Whatareyounottellingme?”hedemanded,hisvoiceshrill.“’Buela,whatdidIdo?”
Shehesitated.“Allright.Youhaveaskedmeforthetruth.IthinkyoueithercreatedtheshadowmonsterthatappearedinSunnydale,andthateitheryouorAlinaopenedthepassagethatletitintoSunnydale.”
“Ay,Dios,”hemurmured.“Thatandalltheothermonsters.”
“Youcouldn’tknowthatSunnydalewasonaHellmouth.Thatbadtimingwouldalsoworkagainstyou.”
“DidyouknowaboutSunnydale?”heaskedher.
“No.”Shegazedathimsteadily.“Truly,Ididnot.Iwouldn’thaveletyourparentssendSalmatoschoolthereifIhadknown.AndIdon’tthinkyouhadanythingtodowithSalmadisappearing.”
Hegrimaced.“Youdon’tthinkso?”
Hegrimaced.“Youdon’tthinkso?”
“Iamsureofit.”Hersmile,meanttobereassuring,onlyremindedNickyhowmuchthisoldladylovedhim.Ifsheweredyinginfrontofhim,shewouldtellhimthatshewasfine,ifonlytosparehisfeelings.
Nickyshookhishairlesshead.“IwishIcouldbeascertainasyou.”
DoñaPilarshrugged.“Italwayscomesbackaroundtothat,”shesaid.“Idon’tknowhowtopersuadeyou,howtomakeyouassureasIamthatthingswillworkout.BuffywillfindSalma.Salmaisfine—she’smissing,butnotnecessarilyinanydanger.Shewillcomehomesoon.ThenyouwillknowthatIwasrightallalong.Wejustneedtoshowpatience,andWillowandTaraandIneedtobeabletoreachacrosstoBuffyagain.”
Shebroughtthespoonoutofthekettle,andsniffedthecontentsagain.Seemingmoresatisfied,thistimeshetookthetiniestofsipsoffthespoonandnoddedherhead.
“Please,grandmother,”Nickybeggedher.“Pleaseletmegothrough.IcanhelpBuffy,Iknow.Icouldn’tstandtobeherewhilesomethingbadhappenstoSalma,andIcan’tshakethefeelingthatshe’sintrouble.”Hepaused,lookingatthetinywomanbeforehim,thewomanwhosharedhiseyesandhissmileandhissister’sstrongcheekbones.“Icouldn’tlivewiththat.”
DoñaPilarfrownedathim.“Verywell,”shesaid.“Isupposeyouwon’tleaveitalone,willyou?”
“Nochance,”hereplied.“Youknowme,’buela.”Hissmilewassour.“I’mthespoiledlittlerichkidwhoalwaysgetswanthewants.”
Shesighed.“ThengotoseeCordeliaChase.Alinaandthemachinearethere.Perhapstheycanprepareyouandsendyouover.Iftheysucceed,WillowandTaraandIwilltrytokeepaneyeonyoufromhere.”
Thenshecrossedherself,andthatfrightenedhim.
HaveIcutmyselfofffromtheprotectionoftheHolyMother,becauseIinvokedthepowerofancientAztecgods?
“Isthatwhatyou’rebrewing?”heaskedharshly.“SomekindofpotiontohelpyourestorecontactwithBuffy?”
yourestorecontactwithBuffy?”
DoñaPilarsmiled.“This?”shesaid,liftingoutanotherspoonfulandtakingahealthyswallow.“No,thisissoup.Albondigassoup.Wouldyoucareforsomebeforeyougo?”
Nickyshookhishead.“I’llpass.”
“Youneedstrength,”shesaid.“Notjustcojones.”
Hewasshockedtohearhisgrandmotherspeakso.Hisstartledreactionamusedher,andshesmiledbrieflybeforereturningherattentiontothesoup.
Grandmotherandgrandsonstoodinsilenceforafewmoments.Nickysensedtheywerehavingsomesortofstandoff,buthedidn’tknowwhattodoorsaytomovethemforwardagain.
Atlast,heblurted,“Please,’buela,justgivemeCordeliaChase’saddress.”
“Someoneneedstodenyyousometime,”shesaidwistfully.“Ay,hijo,ifIcouldgobackintime,Iwouldbeadifferentgrandmotherforyou.”
“Idon’twantadifferentone,”hesaid,tryinghisoldgrinonher.“Ilikethisone.”
Shedidn’tsmileback.“Becauseshegivesyouwhatyouwant.”
Hetouchedherwrinkledbrownhand,andinthatmoment,sheseemedsolidtohimagain,notsomeghostorwish,butarealpersonwhocouldfeelsadnessanddisappointmentinhim.I’mashallowbastard,hethoughtdismally.Shecanseerightthroughme.I’mtheghostofthegrandsonshereallywanted.Aniceman.Agoodman.
I’mhisshadow,that’sall.
“Becauseshelovesme,”hesaid.
“Heraddressisontherefrigerator,”shemurmured,asifitdidn’tmattertoheronewayortheother,andwentbacktostirringhersoup.
Whenheleftwiththeslipofpaperinhishand,shesaidsoftly,“Quetevayes
conDios.”
GowithGod.
“Gracias,grandmotherofNicolasdelaNatividad,”hesaidfeelingly.
Chapter4
Sunnydale
GILESWASNOTLOVINGWESLEY.
TheBritwasontheotherendoftheline,givingGileswhat-forabout“letting”Spikegothroughthealternitydoor,despiteGiles’sattemptstoexplainthattherehadbeenno“letting”inthesituation,nonewhatsover.Meanwhile,Xander,Anya,Tara,Riley,andJoyceSummersweresittingonhiscouchandinhischairs,facinghimwithglum,hopefulexpressionsontheirfaces,whichputhiminmindoftheyearPrincipalSnyderhadforcedhimtobeinchargeoftheSunnydaleHighSchoolTalentShow.
Withthenaïvetéofaforeigner,Gileshadmistakenlyassumedthataschooleventwiththeword“talent”initoughttorequirethepresenceofsame,andhaddecidedtoholdauditions.Aftereachaudition—charminglyreferredtointhevernacularas“atryout,”thevastmajorityofwhichhadbeenscreaminglyawful—theperformerhadsatinjustthisprecisewayasthesefournow,practicallybeggingforaspotontheprogram.Thensomeoneintheteachers’loungehadmadesomecommentsabout“somebody’sBritishelitism,”andGileshadquicklyrealizedtheerrorofhisways.Asaresult,everysinglestudentwhoauditionedgotaspot,andallwaswellwiththefabledAmericandemocraticprocess,nottomentiontheirhighlycultivatedpassionforexercisesinappallinglybadtaste.
“Well,youshouldhavekeptSpikelockedupsomewhere,”Wesleywasnowsaying.“Servesyouright,lettinghimgadabout.”Histonechangedashesaid,hismouthawayfromthereceiver,“What’sthat?Yes,quite.”Intothephone,headded,“CordeliawouldliketoremindyouthatSpikehadAngeltorturedwhile
hewasinL.A.,andthathethreatenedtokillher.Andyetyouallowedhimtolive.”
Gilespursedhislipsshut.Hewastemptedtosay,“Titfortat,”sinceAngelhadoncetorturedhim,butthatwouldhavebeeninexceedinglybadtaste.Andofcoursehedidn’twantanyonetokillCordelia.
Heshookhisheadatthehopefulquartet.“Solet’srecapitulate.ItwasSpike’sgoingthroughthatbrokethelinkamongTara,Willowandthegrandmother.”
“Yes.”
“Andthelinkhasnotbeenreestablished,andwedon’tyetknowwhy,”hesaid,mostlyfortheirbenefit.JoycegrimacedandAnyashrugged,reachingforthebowlofbarbecuedpotatochipsXanderhadpickedupathisparents’house.Tarasanklowerintotheoverstuffedchair,lookingdefeated.Rileygotupandbegantopace.
“How’stheresearchgoing?”GilesaskedWesley.
“It’sbeendifficulttodomuchofit,”Wesleysaidtightly.“It’sabaddealuphere.Gangviolence,and—”
“Well,it’sstatusquohere,too,”Gilescutin.“We’reoverrunwithdemons.”Asifoncue,somethingslammedagainsttheexteriorwall,makingGiles’splaceshake.Everyonejumped,thenresumedcourse.There’dbeensomanyattacksthegrouphadbecomerathernonchalantaboutthem.
“Andmonsters,”Anyaadded.AtXander’squizzicalfrown,shesaid,“Everyonealwaystriestoblamedemonsforeverything.Notallepisodesofmassdestructionaretheirfault.”ShegavehimalittlesmileandsaidtoGiles,“So,we’realsooverrunwithmonsters.”
“Andmonsters,”GilestoldWesley.
Anyalookedproudofherself.“I’maloyalthing,aren’tI?Stickingupfordemons?”
“Exthing,”Xanderremindedher.“You’reafull-bodied—Imean,full-bloodedhumannow.”
“I’mnottalkingstatusquo,”Wesleyinsistedonthephone.“It’sbecomeratherworsethanthat.Thegangsarewarringagainsteachother.Massshootings,fires.Thebodiesarepilingup,andplentyofthemwereinnocentbystanders.It’sinsane,Giles.”
“Thenonecanassumethatnothingwe’veattemptedsofarishelping.And,inpointoffact,maybemakingthesituationworse.”Gilespusheduphisglassesandrolledhisshoulderstoworkoutthekinks.“DoyoureallythinktheRussiangirlknowswhatshe’sdoingwiththatthing?Perhapsshe’sonlytellinguswhatshewantsustobelieve.Perhapsshe’screatingallthemayhemherself.”
“LiketheInitiative,”Anyafilledin.“Wow,theyreallymessedthingsup,huh?”
RileylookedpainedandXandermadea“sssh”athisgirlfriend.
“Tellyouwhat,”Wesleysnapped.“I’lljustpulloutmytrustymayhemometerandseeifyou’reright.”Thenhesighed.“Sorry,oldboy.I’mjusttiredandfrustrated.”
Gileswinced.Hedidn’tlikebeingremindedthatheandWesley,byvirtueofbothbirthplaceandoccupation,hadalotincommon.HehadfoundWesleyWyndam-Prycetobeabitofaprig,toorigidbyhalf,andratherlackinginhumor.Whichwas,tobehonest,Buffy’soriginalassessmentofGileswhensheandhehadfirstmet.
HesighedandsaidtoTara,“WouldyoucaretospeaktoWillow?”
Shyly,Taragotupandtookthephonefromhishand.Hetookafewstepsaway,togivehersomesmallamountofprivacy.XanderandAnyahadbegunsquabblingaboutsomething,andJoyceSummerswasclaspingherhands,herforeheadcreased.ShehadbeenawareofBuffy’sroleastheChosenOnefortwoyears,butherfearforherdaughterwaspalpable.JoycewasquiteawarethatBuffyhadalreadyenjoyedalongerlifespanthanmanyofherpredecessors.ItwastheSlayer’sfate—atleast,thusfarintheannalsoftime—todieyoung.
Riley,meanwhile,hadpickeduphisgunandwascheckingit,ostensiblyforammunition.
“Hi,”Tarasaidsoftly.“I’mfine.”Sheshruggedandtouchedherhair.“Alittletired,actually.Haveyoufiguredouthowtoreestablishthelink?”
ShelistenedandtickedherglanceatGiles,whoraisedhisbrows.Thenshesaid,“I’lltrythat.”Hercheeksgrewrosy.Shewasalovelygirl,really,lookedabitBritish.Shemurmured,“You,too.”
ShehandedthephonebacktoGiles.Hetookit,andsaid,“Willow?”
“Giles,hi,”Willowsaid.“Listen,Alina’sgoingtotrytopsychicallylinkwithme.Cool,huh?”Hervoicewastingedwithexcitement.“SinceTaraandDoñaPilarandIwereabletodoitmagickally,wethinkwemighthaveashotatitwith,youknow,hergift.”
“Whatdoyouhopetoaccomplish?”Gilesasked.“LocatingBuffy?”
RileylookedatGilessharply.Gilesheldupacautioninghand,whichdidlittletocurbtheyoungman’sintensity.
“OrAngel,orboth,”sheanswered.Sheloweredhervoice.“OrmaybeevenSpike.Theyallendedupindifferentplaces.”
“Howdoyouknow?”
“Beforeeverythingwentkerplooey,Alinacouldseetheirsurroundings.Mentally,Imean.Thebackgroundsdidn’tmatchup.Alina’sgettingkindofclosetotheedge,Giles,andIdon’tknowwhyI’mwhisperingaboutitbecauseshecanreadmymind,afterall.”
“Indeed,”hesaid,concerned.IdowishRileywouldstopstaringatme.
“It’ssoweird.She’shardlyeverbeenoutofherhouse.Everything’snewanddifferent.It’screatingquiteastrainonher.Andshe’sworriedaboutherboyfriend,”Willowadded.
“Oh.Whereishe?”Gilesasked.
Willowclearedherthroat,“Oh,hi,Alina,”shepiped.“Gottago.TellTaratorestup.IfAlinaandImanagethelink,maybewecanbringherinlater.”
“Ishall.”
“PleasetellBuffy’smomwe’llfindhersoon,”Willowaddedsweetly.“Shemustbeworriedsick.”
beworriedsick.”
“Quite.”
“Okay,gottago.Bye.”
“Good-bye,Willow.Andgoodluck,”Gilessaid,tothedialtone.HeclearedhisthroatandsmiledpleasantlyatJoyceandRiley.“They’reworkingonthesearchforBuffy,”hesaid.
“How?”Rileydemanded.
“AndSpike?”Anyaasked.Xanderfrowned.Shegavehimalookandsaid,“AndAngel.I’mworriedaboutallofthem,okay?”ShesmiledatRiley.“I’mjustworriedsickaboutBuffy.”
Rileystuffedhisgunintoaholsterandsaid,“I’mgoingonpatrol.”
HestompedoutoftheroomandlefttheothersstaringatGiles.
AndtothinkImindeddirectingthattalentshow,hethoughtglumly.
LosAngeles
Itdoesn’ttakeamindreadertounderstandwhatshe’ssaying,Willowthought,asshewatchedAlinapacingandmutteringtoherselfinCordelia’slivingroom.OraRussiandictionary.
She’sreallygettingscared.
Cordeliawalkedintotheroom,precariouslybalancingatraywiththreecoffeecups,anopencartonofmilk,andsomepacketsofEqual.Also,asinglespoonandsomehalf-wadded-uppapernapkins.Cordeliadidherbestwhenitcametothesocialgraces.
“Here,”shesaid,settingthetraydownonhercoffeetable.Shesmoothedherhairawayfromherforehead.“Wow,whenyoumakeitfromscratch...”Shesighedandwrinkledhernose.“ButIwantedyouguystohavethebest.”
“Cordelia,really,”Wesleysaid,ashelaidthephoneonCordelia’sendtablebesidethesofa.“YouhadthebeansgroundatStarbucks.Allyoudidwasput
besidethesofa.“YouhadthebeansgroundatStarbucks.Allyoudidwasputsomeoftheminthebasketandpourinthewater.”
“Ihadtoinsertacoffeefilter,”shesaid,asifshe’dcaughthiminthemostdeviousofbasefibs.
“Yes.Quite.”Heshookhisheadandsurveyedthecups.“Isoneofthoseforme?”
Sheraisedabrow.“Afterthat?Idon’tthinkso.”Thensheshrugged.“Ifyouwant.I’mgoingtohavesometea.Herbal.”ShesmiledatWillow.“Caffeineagestheskin.”
Willowgotreadytotakeumbrage,buttheCordeliaofLosAngeleswasnottheQueenofMean,ashadbeentheCordeliaofSunnydale.True,shewasstilltheQueenofMajorSarcasm,butthesharpedgehadbeenslightlydulled.Sheseemedtohavematured,gottensomecompassionunderherbelt.
Refreshing,Willowthought.Also,kindofspooky.
Alinapickeduponeofthecupsofcoffeeanddrankitquickly.Shewasaprettygirl,heroutfitofapairofjeansandarathernondescriptturtlenecksweater.FromwhatWillowhadheardofherlife,shehadnevergottentoexperimentwithmakeuporevengoshoppingatamall.Shehadbeenavirtualprisoner.
“Yes,”Alinasaid,gazingatWillowoverhercup.“Aprisoner.”
Willowstarted.Shesaidanxiously,“Ididn’tmeantooffendyouoranythingwith...whatIwasthinkingaboutyouintheprivacyofmyownmind.”
“Isokay.”Alinalookedtired.Sheputdownhercupandrakedherfingersthroughherhair.Tearssliddownhercheeksandshecrossedherarmsoverherchest,lettingoutashudderingsigh.“SoonyouandImusttrytobond.Thelongerwewait...”Shedidn’tfinishhersentence.
“Okay,then.”Willowswallowedhard.“Whatdoyouwantmetodo?Dowetoucheachother’stemplesandchant,‘IamSpock’?Which,sincenoTVforyou,um,youdon’tget.It’sajoke.”
“Vulcanmindmeld,”Alinasaid.Shedrainedhercoffeeandputthecupdownwithadecisivegesture.“Youcangointotrance?”
“Yes.”Willownodded.“I’mTranceGirl.Noproblem.”
“Then,privacy,”shesaidtotheothers.
“Whydon’tyougointomybedroom?”Cordeliasuggested.“We’llstayouthere.”Shegazedaround.“You,too,PhantomDennis.”
Asiftoindicatehisagreement,Alina’semptycuprosefromthetableandfloatedtowardthekitchen.
AlinanoddedatWillow.ThetwostoodandWillowfollowedAlinadownthehall,intoCordelia’sbedroom.
Itwasaspaciousroomforanapartment.Alinaindicatedthebedandsaid,“Liedown,please.Iwilljoinwithyou.”
“Um,I’minacommittedrelationship,”shesaid,thenflushedanddidastheothergirlrequested.Alinalaydownbesideher,bothofthemontheirbacks,andtookWillow’shandinhers.
“Breathedeeplyandslowly.Closeeyes,”Alinasaidgently.Willowlikedher.Shewasreallysweet,andWillowfeltsorryaboutthecrummylifeshe’dhadtolead.
“Willow,youarealsosweet,”Alinamurmured.“ForanAmerican,especially.”
“Americansareactuallyfairlynice.Well,exceptforhatecrimesandstuff.”
“IhopetoseemuchofAmerica,”Alinasaid.
“Ihopethatforyou,too.”
“No,breathing.”
Willowlistenedtoherbreath,matchingherrhythmtoAlina’s.Slowlyin,slowlyout...sheheardamutedbuzzingsoundandfeltasifshewerefloatingafewinchesabovethemattress.Thevaguescentoforangeswaftedaroundher.
Behindhereyelids,goldenlightglowed.
Sheheardherownheartbeat,andthenwhatsheguessedwasAlina’saswell.
ShekeptpacewithAlina’sslow,rhythmicbreathing.Thensuddenlyshesawanenchantedlandscapeofgentlehillsandasplendidstonecastleinthebackground.Shecouldalmostfeelthesunshineonherface,almostsmellthelushvegetation.
We’redoingit,shethought.
ThenAlinacaughtherbreath,andWillowlosttheimage.
TheRussiangirlgroanedinfrustration.BeforeWillowhadcompletelyregainedhercomposure,Alinasatuprightandburiedherfaceinherhands.
“Isawsomething,”Willowoffered.
“Iamtoonervous.Icannotdo.”Alinadroppedherhandstoherlap.“Iamso,sosorry.”
“No,it’sokay,”Willowsaidanxiously.Shewasfloodedwithdisappointment.Whatarewegoingtodo?
Alinalookedatheruncertainly.Shelookedterrifiedasshesaid,“PerhapsmyparentswillrepairtheTracer.”
“Andforceyoutodowhatevertheywantwithit,”Willowsaid,bitingherlowerlip.
“Mischacouldhelp,perhaps.”Theothergirlclosedhereyes,thengrimaced.“Hemustbeblockinghisthoughts.Ican’tfindhim.”
“Don’tworry,”Willowsaidworriedly.“We’llfiguresomethingout.We’llgetthisworkingandboy,watchthingshappen.”
AlinaletoutalittlecryandgrabbedWillow’sshoulders.Shesaid,“They’recoming!”
“Who?”Willowasked,wide-eyedandfreakedout.
“Someoneistryingtogetthroughmybarrier,”shesaid.“Someoneverypowerful.”Sherakedherhandsthroughherhair.“Itmustbemyparents.”
ItoccurredtoWillowthattheyweresittingducksinCordelia’sapartment.WithAngeloutofthepicture,theydidn’tevenhaveanybodyontheirsidewhocouldhitveryhard.ShewonderedifCordeliahadagun—eeuuuw,notlikingthatidea—butifpeopledidtraceAlinahere,whatweretheygoingtodoaboutit?
Alinashookherhead.“Thiswholescheme.Itiscrazy,isn’tit.”Shewasn’taskingWillowaquestion.
Alinagotupoffthebedandpaced.“WhenIwasalittlegirl,Icouldfeelmyparents’excitement.Theirlove.”Shelookedpensive.“Theylovedme.Butmorethanthat,theylovedthepossibilitiesIrepresented.Thehope.Itwasallstillahappydream.
“Butthispaththey’vechosen?Hershouldersslumped.“Somehow,ithaswarpedthem.Theydon’tseethatwhatwe’redoingiswrong.Theydon’tcare.Theconsequencesofouractionsareunseentothem.Whatcountsismakingthedreamcometrue.”
“Um,well,that’scalleddrivehereinAmerica,andalotoftimes,wethinkit’sprettyneat,”Willowventured.
“Obsessionisthecorrectword,”Alinacutin.ShetouchedWillow’sshoulder,thendroppedherhandtohersideandwalkedsomemore.SeeingCordelia’smirror,shestoppedandpeeredatherreflection.“Myparentshavestoppedseeingmeasfleshandblood.Astheirdaughter.I’monlypartofthemachine.”Shegesturedtowardthemagictoaster-thingrestingagainstthepillows.
“No,”Willowprotested.“I’msurethat’snottrue,Alina.You’rejusttiredandscared.Plusyouprobablyhavelowbloodsugar.”
Alinashookherhead.“Ibelievethatifmyfatherfindsme,hewillforcemetomakeevenmorepeopledisappear.”
“Hewouldn’t...force...hurt...hisowndaughter,”Willowchewedherlowerlip.Justus.“Wouldhe?”
Alinalookeddejected.“Idon’tknowwhatmyparentsarecapableofanymore.WhenIthinkaboutwhatweweredoing...”Sheranherhandsupanddownherarms,asiftryingtowarmherself.
“TheonlytruefriendIhaveisMischa,andIcan’tfindhim.Ican’tlockonto
“TheonlytruefriendIhaveisMischa,andIcan’tfindhim.Ican’tlockontohim.”Shecoveredhermouthasifsheweregoingtobesickandwhirledonherheel.“Willow,whatifhe’sdead?”
ThisisoneoftheproblemswithlifeasIknowit,Willowthought.Cuz,like,ifthiswasaTVshow,Iwouldtellhernottoworryandwe’dhaveabighug,andthenwe’dcuttocommercial.Thenmyfather,playedbyStephenCollins,wouldhavealongchatwithherparentsandthoseguysonRoswellwouldbringeveryoneback.AndPaceyandJoeywouldlivehappilyeverafter.
Problemis,thisisreallife,starringus.
Andinmyreallife,peopledie.Alot.Well,notthesamepeople.Mostofthemdieonlyonce.
ButI’vemournedmoredeathsthanIeverimaginedIwould,andI’mnotevenoutofcollege.
“Yousee?”Alinawhispered.“Youcannotlietome,justtocomfortme.It’sverypossiblethatMischahasbeenkilled.”
“Doyouwantmetodoaprotectionspellforhim?”sheasked.
“Isittraceable?”sheaskedreluctantly.“Wouldsomeonewithhighlydevelopedmentalpowersbeabletotrackhimfollowingitsmagickaltrail?”
Willowwasintrigued.“Ihonestlyhavenoidea,”shesaid.Butitoccurredtoherthatitmightbe.Hadn’tDoñaPilarbelievedthatthenightmarethatsurroundedthedelaNatividadhomewithblacknesshadfollowedoneofherspellsbacktoitssource?
“Thendon’tdoit,”Alinasaid.Hermiserywaspalpable.“Myparentstaughtmethatnooneoutsideourfamilywastobetrusted.ButIhavefoundseveralpeoplemoretrustworthythanthey.”
Shesatdownonthebed.Thensheswungherlegsontothemattressandlaydown.“I’msotired,Willow.DoyoumindifIrest?”
“Ofcoursenot.”Willowmadeasiftoleave.
“Butdon’tgo.Please,”Alinapleaded.“I’mafraidtobebymyself.IfeellikeIwillmeltintothebedandnoonewilleverfindmeagain.”
willmeltintothebedandnoonewilleverfindmeagain.”
Wow.Whatanimagination,Willowthought.“Okay.OfcourseI’llstay,”Willowsaid.“Yougotosleep.I’ll...I’llmakesureyoudon’tmelt.”
Alinasmiledfaintlyandclosedhereyes.Withinseconds,shewasasleep.
Willowlookeduptowardtheceilingandsentoutanaudiblethought:
Tara,canyouhearme?
Yes,Willow.
Iloveyou.AndIloveyou.
Allthisstuffisreallyweird,don’tyouthink,Tara?
Yeah.Someoneshouldwriteabookaboutit.
Theygiggledtogether.
ThenWillowfeltherownlidsgrowingheavy;shelaydownbesideAlinaandfoldedherhandsoverherabdomen.
Suddenlysotired...
“Thereareplacesbetweenwakinganddreamingwhereawarenesslingers,butvolitiondoesnot,”DreamGilessaidtoDreamWillow.“Whereyouknowthatsomething’sapproachingyourbed,say,oreventouchingyou,yetyouarepowerlesstomove.Youcan’tquitewakeup,either.It’sterrifying.”
“That’shappenedtome,”DreamWillowtoldhim.
It’shappeningtomenow.
Something’sintheroomnow.
Somethingthatshouldn’tbehere.
Somethingthatmeanstoharmusboth.
Killusboth.
Somethingthatisbendingoverme...stopit,goaway...help...Buffy...whereareyou?...stop,stop—
SomethingverycoldandevilslidintoWillow’sbrain;somethingthatwantednothingbuttheworstforeverylivingthing;butitwasnotapieceofalternitythathadslippedoutorslippedthrough.Itwastheresidueofwhatwasleftaftersomeoftheworld’sgoodnesshadbeensuckedintotheportalAlinahadcreatedtosendtheyouthofLosAngelesintooblivion.Itwastheabsenceofgood,whichisworsethanevil.Apathy,whichisfarworse.
Itwassomethingthatwasintheworldallthetime,althoughinvisible.
Willowdidn’tknowabouttheeternalbattlebetweengoodandevil,notreally;shedidn’tknowtherewerePowersThatBethatkepttrackoftherules,anddemonswhomaintainedthebalance,asWhistlerhaddone.ThattherewereProtectorsandJudgesandKeys;shedidn’tknowanyofthat.SheknewabouttheHellmouth,ofcourse,andsheknewabouttheSlayer,butshedidn’trealizethatthemattersoflifeanddeathwereverymuchlikegames,withplayingfieldsandregulations.
Butwhengoodgotsuckedout,thefieldtiltedbadly.Theruleswentoutthewindow.
Thelackofgoodnesshurtasitboredintoher,travelingdownherspinalcolumn,lodgingitselfinsideherlikeapestilenttumor.
Butthensheslept,anddreamed—notofTara,butofOz,herlostlove,hersacrificedlove,herunworkablelove—
Theabsenceofgoodnessisdespair.
Herchestroseonlyslightly.
Itisdeath.
Herchestrose...notatall.
IamthinkingofMoscowinwinter,Mischathought.TheKremlindomedwithsnow,andthethickfurcoatsandhats,andpeoplerushinghometothesamovarandthevodka.
Hewasmakinggoodprogressontheroad.HefiguredhemustbeacrosstheArizonaborderbynow,almosthalfwaytotheGrand...
Muscoviteseverywhere,walkingthroughthesnow;citysnowisoftendirtyandgray.Theoldladiesarewearingtheirwoolenbabushkas.NoonecanmakeborschtlikemyAuntVera.
Oh,God,isAlinaokay?Whatifshe—
Hisbloodfrozeasheglancedintotherearviewmirror.
AHighwayPatrolofficerhadjustpulledontotheblacktopaboutfiftyfeetbehindhim.TherewasnoonebutMischaontheroad,andhewastoppingeighty.
HesworeinRussianandtookhisfootoffthegas.Ifhebraked,itwouldbeadmissionofguilt,andthecopwouldbemorelikelytopullhimover.Mischaknewallthetricks.Theyhadservedhimwellbothhereandbackhome.Authoritarianmindswerethesameeverywhere.
Gradually,Mischa’sstolenSaturnslowedtoamoreacceptableseventyandheswallowedhard.Sweatglistenedonhisforehead,gellingintheairconditioningashetrembled.Hitchhikinghadn’tworked—tooslow,notenoughforwardmotion.He’dbeenafraidthatAlinawouldsomehowgettherebeforehim,and,thinkinghewouldn’tbecoming,wouldgiveuponhim.Sohe’dgivenup,finally,andstolenacarfromaparkinglotinSanBernardino.Thecar’sownerhadruninsideaconveniencestore,leavingthemotorrunning,soMischahadsimplyslippedinsideandhelpedhimselftoit.He’dbeenonInterstate10innotime,headingeast,buttheknowledgethatthecarwouldbetheobjectofasearchwasalwaysonhismind,aswastheequallychillingknowledgethatAlina’sparentswouldbescanningforhismind.
Forallheknew,thepatrolofficerwascallinginhislicenseplateanddiscoveringthatthecarhadbeenstolen.Anymomentnow,thesirenandlightswouldblaston,andMischawouldbefacedwithachoice:trytooutrunhim,orsurrender?
Hedroveon,breathless,beyondtense.
Moscowinthesnow.It’sjustbeautiful.
Chapter5
THEYOUNGWOMANLEDANGELTHROUGHANINCREASinglydarkandforbiddingforest.Afterhehadbeatenthemenwhohadaccostedher,shehadlookedathimwithbigblueeyes,andsaid,“Please,sir,youmustaccompanymetomygrandmother’scottage,orthey’lljustcomeafterme.”
Angellookedatthebodiesontheground.“Notthem,”hesaid.
“No,buttherearemanyothers,”shesaid.“Ibegofyou.”
“Ihavetobe...somewhere,”Angelreplied.Exceptthethingwas,hereallydidn’tknowwherethat“somewhere”was.Buffywasn’there,butthatonlyleftaninfinitenumberofplaceswhereshemightbe.Andashedidn’tknowhowhecouldtravelfromonerealitytoanotherwithoutsomecontactfromAlinaorWillow,Tara,andDoñaPilar—whosepresencehehadn’tfeltsincearrivinghere—hefiguredoneplacewasprobablyasgoodasanother.Heagreed.SheintroducedherselfasTan-kia,andhetoldherhisname.
“Whatdidtheywantwithyou?”heaskedherastheyfollowednarrowtrailsbetweentalltrees.ThegreencanopyoverheadwassodensethatAngelcouldnolongerseethesunorsky.
“Toenslaveme,”shesaidmatter-of-factly,asifitweresomethingheshouldhaveknownataglance.“IamoftheForestPeople.”
Heduckedatreebranchthatshewalkedeasilybeneath.“AndtheyenslavetheForestPeople?”
Thistimesheheldabranchforhimashepassed.“Ofcourse,whentheycan.”
“YourgrandmotherisalsoaForestPerson?”heasked.
“YourgrandmotherisalsoaForestPerson?”heasked.
“Yes,sheis—oneofthemostrespectedofusall,”Tan-kiasaid,lettingthebranchgo.“Sheisawitchofsomerepute.Theywouldneverhaveattackedmeathercottage,butwhenIfoolishlywanderedawayfromtheForest—Ionlywantedtoseewhatlayovertheridge—theytookme.”Herfacehardenedasifatbadmemories.“IhadbeenenslavedforseveralweeksbeforeImademyescape,andthentheychasedme,thinkingtheycouldhavemebackagain.Thankstoyou,Angel,theylearnedtheirmistake.”
“Didyouseeit?”heasked.“Whateverisovertheridge?”
“Isawonlyanotherridge,”Tan-kiareplied,smilingruefully.Sheshrugged.“Iamsurethatthereismoretoseeoverthatone,though.”
“Andwheredotheylive,themenwhomeanttoenslaveyou?”
“Atown,inanearbyvalley.Therearebighousesthere,madeofstone,notjustwood.Andthosewholiveinthebighousesallwantslaves,likeme.”
Angelhadheardofparalleluniverses,buthewasn’tsurejusthowparalleltheywere.Thisyoungwoman,stillinherteens,leadinghimtohergrandmotherthewitch,remindedAngelofwhatBuffyhadtoldhimaboutSalmadelaNatividadandhergrandmother,DoñaPilar,backinL.A.Maybethey’rethisuniverse’sversionofthosetwo,hethought.TheymightbeabletolocateBuffy.Itwasthebestshothe’dhadsincehe’darrived,sohedeterminedtotakeit.
ThewoodsremindedAngelofthoseinRomaniaintheolddays,sothickwithgrowththattostepoffthepathmeantriskingbecominghopelesslyentangledinthebrushandlostinthetrees.HewassuresomeforestslikethatstillexistedinpartsofeasternEurope,butmosthadbeenlogged,builtover,roadsgradedthroughthem.TheforeststhathadinspiredsomanyfrighteningfairystoriesonEarthwerebeingdefanged,theirteethandtheirterrorremovedbytheever-increasingpopulation.Hehadasensethatthesameprocesshadnotyethappenedhere—thatifheweretoflyupabovethecanopyofthetrees,hewouldseethattheseforestswentonforhundreds,ifnotthousands,ofmiles.Thiswasaplacelikethosefromthefairytalesbackhome.
AsTan-kiapassedthroughthewoodswithwhichsheseemedsointimate,leadingAngeldownpathsthathecouldn’tevenmakeoutuntiltheywereonthem,shekeptupaconstantchatter,tellingAngelaboutherhome,hergrandmother,thetreesandbirdsandanimalstheypassed.Hetriedtobepolite,
grandmother,thetreesandbirdsandanimalstheypassed.Hetriedtobepolite,buthelistenedforsoundsofpursuit,watchedforpossibleambushsites,andwasgenerallypreoccupiedwithmakingsurethatTan-kiawouldgethomesafely.Besides,iftherewasanythingherwitchygrandmothercoulddotohelpreunitehimwithBuffy,shewouldbeinclinedtodosobecausehehadbroughthergranddaughterhomesafely.
Perhapsthreehourshadpassed;havingbeentoHellforcenturies,Angelwasawarethattimemovedatdifferentspeedsindifferentdimensions.Theycametoaclearinginthewoods,wherepatchesofunchangedskyshowedthroughthetrees,andinthecenteroftheclearingwasasmallcottage,builtfromlocalmaterialssothatitalmostblendedperfectlywiththetreessurroundingit.Graysmokeplumedtowardtheskyfromachimney.IfIdidn’tknowawitchlivedhere,hethought,I’dswearawitchlivedhere.
“Thisyourgrandmother’splace?”Angelasked.
“Yes,”Tan-kiaresponded.“ThisiswhereIgrewup,wheresheraisedmeaftermyparentsweretakenaway.”
“Bythesamepeoplewhotookyou?”Angelguessed.
“Yes,”Tan-kiasaid.“TheyhavetakenForestPeoplefortheirslavesforaslongasanyonecanremember.”ShetookAngel’shandandgaveitaquick,shysqueeze.“Thankyouagain,”shesaid,“forwhatyouhavedoneforme.”
Sheturnedawayandwalkedtothedoor.Beforeopeningit,shecooedloudlyonce,somekindofsignal,Angelassumed.Thenshetuggedthedooropen,calling,“It’sme,grandmother!”beforeentering.“I’mhome!”Shepassedintotheshadowsforamoment,thenreturnedtobeckonAngelin.
Havingbeeninvitedacrossthethreshold,hefollowedher.Hergrandmothermetthemjustinside,inaroomthatmighthavebeenbuiltforthosesamefairytalesAngelhadthoughtofearlier.Thefloors,walls,andceilingwereallhewnfromthesamewood,aswasallthefurniture—chairs,tables,andotheritemsnotchedandpeggedtogether.Theplacewasawoodworker’sdream,nometalorplastictobeseen,andonlyasmallamountofstonewhereafirecrackledinafireplace.Thecozydenlookedlikethedwarves’housefromSnowWhite,butthewomanwholivedhere,Tan-kia’sgrandmother,wasnodwarf.
ShewastallerthanAngelbyagoodheadandahalf.Herdeeplylinedfacewas
ShewastallerthanAngelbyagoodheadandahalf.Herdeeplylinedfacewasdrawnbackinasmilethatwasatoncefriendlyandalittleintimidating.Angelamendedhisearlierestimationofthehouse,andwonderedifinfactitwascarvedfromgingerbread,becausethiswomancertainlylookedlikeonewhocouldeatHanselandGretelandstillbehungryfordessert.Herhairwaswhiteandstringyandhungstraightdownherback,nearlytoherknees.Sheworeasimpleburgundydresswithaplainwhiteapronoverit,tiedatthewaistbyawhitesash.
AfterlockingTan-kiainanembracethatAngelfearedmightcrushthegirl’sspine,thegrandmothersatandlistenedquietlywhileTan-kiatoldherstory,describingAngel’sdispatchingofthetwobarbarianswithgreatrelish.Sheglossedovertheperiodofherimprisonment,andAngelwasstruckagainbyhowsecondnaturethewholeideaseemedtobetothepeoplehere.
Whenshewasfinished,hergrandmotherlookedsteadilyatAngel.Afterafewmoments,shesmiledagain.“Youhavedonemygranddaughteragreatservice,andaskedfornothinginreturn,”shetoldhimseriously.“Hadyouaskedforaboon,Icouldnothavegrantedit.Butsinceyoudidnot,thenIcan.Whatwouldyouhave?”
Angeldidn’thavetothinkaboutittwice.“There’sthisgirl,Buffy...”hebegan.
“Youwouldhaveherfallinlovewithyou?”
Angelfinallylethimselfthinkwhathe’dbeentryingnottothinkabouteversincehegotinvolvedwithalternities.
TheremustbehundredsofrealitiesherewhereBuffyandIcanbetogetheragain.PlaceswhereI’mjustaman,andshe’sawoman.Novampire,noSlayer.Just...us.Orifsheneedsthat,ifsheneedstobemore,wheresheisstillaSlayer,andI...I’mfree...
Helosthimselfinreverieasemotionswashedoverhim.Hestillwantedher.Theyhadagreedtostayawayfromeachother,andshedidn’trememberthetwenty-fourhourstheyhadspenttogetherwhenhehadregainedhismortality.Buthehadneveragreedtostoplovingher.
NorcouldheforgetwhatitfeltliketoholdBuffy,andfeelhisheartthunderinginhischestfromhernearness,andherloveandherdesireforhim.
inhischestfromhernearness,andherloveandherdesireforhim.
“Ineedtofindher,”hesaidsimply.
Tan-kia’sgrandmothernoddedagain.Tan-kiahadturnedawayassoonasAngelmentionedanotherwoman,andhethoughtmaybehe’dbeenmisreadingherinterestassimplygratitude,whentherewasmorethere.
“Iwillneedtolookinsideyoutofindher,”thegrandmothersaidquietly.
“I’mavam...alotofpeoplecan’tseeinsideme,”hecautioned.
“Ican.Ialreadydo,toadegree.”Shegavehimalookthathecouldn’tread—hadsheseenthathewasavampire?
Shestraight-armedherselfoutofthechairshesatinandcametoAngel,takinghisheadbetweenherhands.Shebroughtherfaceveryclose,hercloudyblueeyeslookingdeeplyintohis.Hefoughtthetemptationtoresist—hedidn’treallyknowher,orTan-kia,andthiswholethingcouldbesomekindofatrap,forallheknew.
Buthefoundhimselftrustingheranyway,sohedidn’tstruggle.Afteramoment,shereleasedhim.
“HernameisBuffy,”shesaid.
“That’sright.”
Shetracedacircleintheairwithafingertip,andanimageappearedthere,asifitwereanold,fadingTVscreen.“Thisisshe?”
Insidethecircle,AngelcouldseeBuffy.Shewasunderattack—bypiecesofarmor,itseemed,clutchingather,kickingather.Shetriedtofightback,butthereweresomanyofthem,itlookedasifthey’doverwhelmheratanymoment.
“Yes,that’sher!”Angelsaidurgently.“Sheneedsme.Canyousendmenow?”
“Ofcourse,”thewitchsaid.“Itwillonlytakeafewmoments.Afewpreparations.”
“Grandmother!”Tan-kiasaidsharply.Shehadgonetoawindow,lookingoutat
“Grandmother!”Tan-kiasaidsharply.Shehadgonetoawindow,lookingoutatthewoodsbeyondtheclearing.Whensheturnedaround,thelookonherfacewasoneofmortalterror.
“Soldiers,”shesaid.“Dozensofthem.Theymusthavefollowedus.”
Angeltookherplaceatthewindow.Attheedgeoftheclearing,aforcehadmassed—barbaric-lookingmenliketheoneshehadsavedTan-kiafrombefore,butarmedwithbowsandarrowsandsharpenedspears,inadditiontoswords.
Therewereatleastthirtyofthem.Andtheirweapons,theirarrowsandspears,wereallwood-shafted.
Anyoneofthemcouldkillhimwithaluckyshot.
“Thattheposse?”heasked.“Searchpartyforyou?”
“Andmygrandmother,”shesaidanxiously.“Theyrarelyventuresofarintothewoods,sowemusthavetrulyangeredthem.”
“Orscaredthem,”Angeladded.
Tan-kianodded.
“Whataboutthegirl?Buffy?”thegrandmotherremindedhim.
NotthatIneedreminding.
“Ifyougo,”Tan-kiasaid,“they’llkillusboth.Withouthesitation.”
ThedisembodiedwristheldBuffyinplace.
ThenoneoftheBlackKnight’sarmoredlegstwineditselfbetweenBuffy’slegsandkicked,knockingheroff-balance.Whenshefelltotheground,theotherarmsnakedaroundherthroat,gauntletedfingerscuttingoffherair.Shetuggedatitwithherownhands,butshefeltherstrengthrapidlyslippingaway,andastheotherbodypartspoundedher,theskybegantodarkenbeforehereyes.
Notthesky,sherealized.Hervisionwasclouding.Thebattlehadbeengoingonforhours.Atleast,thatwashowitfelt.Andafterdealingwiththedragon,she
wasalreadytired.Itwouldbesoeasyjusttodriftoff.Butsheknewifshelostconsciousnessshewouldn’tbewakingupagain.Thiswasn’tslippingawayintoadream,thiswastheendifsheletthethingbeather.
Forcingherselftostayalert,shepulledharderatthegauntlet,feelingitsmetaldentunderhergrip.Sheignoredtheincreasedpinchandcontinuedtotugitawayfromher,finallybreakingitsgrip.Whenitreleased,shethrewitashardasshecould.
Sherolledtoasittingposition,kickingatsomeofthepiecesofarmorthatstillassaultedher.Shegainedamoment’srespite,whichsheusedtoinhaledeeplyacoupleoftimes.Butthenthevarioussectionsofanimatedarmorgangeduponheragain,metalbruisingherflesh,grabbingatherappendages.
There’sgottobeawaytostopthis,shethought.Butjustassuddenly,shethought,Why?Ifoneisgoingtoenchantarmor,whynotenchantitalltheway?Keepitattackinguntilit’spulverizedtoitsveryatoms,andeventhenitcanstilldosomedamage.Trybreathinginanentiresuitofarmorandseewhatitdoesforyourlungs.
Butshewasn’twillingtogiveup.Shesnatcheduponeofthemetalliclegsandusedittobashattheotherpieces.Theyfellbackfromherferociousbarrage,butassoonasshemovedontothenextpiece,thelastoneresumeditsattack.
Oneofthearmsclutchedthebigwarmaceandswungitawkwardlyatherlegs.Buffydodgediteasily,thenswoopeddownwithonehandandgrabbeditbythegrip.Sheshookthearm,butitwouldn’treleasethemace,soshedroveitintothegroundashardasshecould,handledown.Thearmshookloose,andshequicklyreverseditandbroughttheweapon’sspikedheaddownonthearm,crushingitintotheearth.
Thatarmlaystillforamoment,thentwitchedacoupleoftimes,apparentlytryingtocontinuethebattle.
ButBuffyhadadifferentidea.Shedodgedandjumpedoverthearmoredbits,headingforthehelmet,whichhadmanagedtostayawayfromtheworstofthefight.Assheapproachedthehelm,ittriedtoscuttleaway.Buffywasfaster,though.Sheswungthemace,whirlingitoverherheadtwicetogetupsomespeed,andsmasheditintothehelmet.
Metalfleweverywhere.
Metalfleweverywhere.
Sheraisedthemaceandcrasheditintothehelmetagain,orwhatwasleftofit.
Thearmorlayquiet.
Thehelmetwasthebrain,shethought,breathinghard.
Killit,killthewholesuit.
Shouldhavethoughtofthatsooner.
Buffywipedsweatfromherforeheadandlookedatthecastle,straightdownawidepathwaywornbyanimalspullingcartsorwagons.Inthehighesttower’swindow,shethoughtshecouldjustmakeoutavagueform.
ThecontenderfromL.A.forMissAlternateReality?
Norestfortheweary.
“You’rekiddingme,right,mates?”Spikesaid.
Theothervampireshadexplainedthewaythingsworkedtohim.Heshookhisheaddisbelievingly.“Youdon’thunt.Yougetyourbloodfromthatriver—allright,handy,butcananyonesayboring?Everynowandthenyouseesomeonewatchingyou,takingnotes,takingbloodypictures!Andyoudon’tevergettickedoffandjustchargethem?”
“Fenceiselectrified,Spike,”thedark-haired,handsomeblokesaid.HehadintroducedhimselfasMalon.Spikewishedhe’dquitdoingtheRobertMitchumthingwithhiseyesandeitheropenthemorclosethem.“Whentheywantittobe.Somehow,ifanyonetriestomakeabreak,theyknowandtheypoweritup.Coupleofustriedgoingoveritonce.Fried’em.”
“Whataboutunderit?Whatabouttakingarunningjumporsomething?Haven’tanyofyoueverseenTheGreatEscape?OrbloodyChickenRun?”
Issak,theone-armedone,waggedhisstumpatSpike.Theywereallsittingamongthejumbledrocks.Seemedthatthesun—whichhadrisenabouthalfanhourearlier,wasnothisfriendhere,either,sohehadfoundrefugewiththeothersamongtheshadowedoutcroppings,toavoidtheMotherofAllSunburns.
othersamongtheshadowedoutcroppings,toavoidtheMotherofAllSunburns.
“Easyforyoutotalkbig,”hesaid.“Youjustgothere.Youhaven’tactuallytriedgettingout.Youhaven’tlostalimbtotheirweapons.”
“Thatwhathappenedtoyou?”Spikeasked.
“Youbet,”Issaksaid.“Theyhavetheseenergypoles.Yougettooclose,theyburnyouwiththem.”
“Youtrieditandlostanarm?”Issaknodded.
“Thenyoudidn’ttryhardenough,”Spikesaidcoldly.“Shouldn’thavebackeddownuntiltheykilledyou.Atleasttheoneswhowentintothefencewerecommittedtoit.”
“Man,you’refulloftalk,”thegreasy-hairedoneinterjected.HehadgivenhisnameasRen’chlad.Spikewonderedwheretheseblokeswerefrom—andwhytheredidn’tseemtobeanywomenhere—buttheanswershegotwhenheaskedwereevenmoreconfusingthannotknowing.“Haven’tseenyoutryit.”
“Ihaven’tbeenherelongenoughtotrymuchofanything,haveI?”Spikerejoined.“AndIhaven’tseenanyofyourpeoplewiththeirsodding‘energypoles’orwhatever,oryou’dhaveseensomeaction.Youknowifyouallbandedtogether,theywouldn’tbeabletostopallofyou.”
“You’refullofit,Spike,”Malonsaid.“Likeyousaid,youhaven’tevenseenthem.Youdon’tknowwhatweknow,somaybeyoushouldjustkeepyouraccusationstoyourself.”
Spikeshrugged.“Youjustwatchmewhentheyshowthemselves.Maybeyou’recontenttobeonexhibit,butI’mnot.I’vegotthingstodo.Ican’taffordtocoolmyheelsinherefortherestofeternity.”
Helookedaroundattheothervampires,eachwithhisownspotintheshadeofthebigrocks.Bunchofuselesslouts,hethought.Nevercatchmebehavinglikethat.
Butinthenextmoment,heamendedthatview.Ifhedidn’tgetthedamnchipoutofhim,thatwasexactlywhathe’dbelike,sittinginhiscryptinSunnydaledrinkingbutcher’sbloodandplayingcanastafortherestoftime.
IfIevergethome.
Thethoughtmadehimsick.
SalmadelaNatividadranfullout.Inspiteofherterrorandherweariness,shehadlatchedontoarhythmandsheheldit,doingaMarionJonesplusaKathyFreemanthroughthedisgustingdampclosenessofthetunnels.
Ofcourse,shehadinspiration.
Behindher,theworm-thingbarreledforward,itsteethclackingtogetherasit—what,slithered?shewondered—afterher.Shewasmanagingtooutpaceit,butbarely.Oneslip,onestumble,onemisstepandshewaswormfood.Theknowledgepropelledherforward,keptherlegsreachingout,herfootingfirm.
Butshewasn’tarunner,andshecouldn’tkeepthepaceupmuchlonger.Shethrewherselfaroundcorners,butthethingseemedtohavelearnedthattrick.Itheldbackjustfarenoughthatitalwaysmanagedtomakethecornersbehindher.
Asshekeptgoing,lungssuckingingreatgaspingbreathsthatfeltliketheyweretearingherapart,thegermofanideacametoher.
Icanstillbreathe,shethought.Sheworkedwiththatforamoment,keepingherlegscharging,herarmspumpingbackandforth.IfIcanbreathe,theremustbeair.I’dhaveusedupalltheairinhere—well,meandtheworm—ifitwasn’tbeingreplacedfromsomeplace.
Sothere’sventilation.
Andwherethere’sventilation,there’sawayout.
Whichmeantthatassheran,notonlydidshehavetowatchherfooting,shehadtokeepaneyeopenforventsorductsorpassageways—whatevermightbeadmittingairintothetunnelsystem.
Butshesawnothing,justexpansesofrockwalls,slickwithworm-whatever.
Andmeanwhile,thewormkeptupwithher,waitingforthatslip,thatmisstep.
Whenshecametoacorner,shehalf-steppedtospinherselfaroundit,hopingtothrowthecreatureoffandearnherselfabreather.Itdidn’twork,though.Not
throwthecreatureoffandearnherselfabreather.Itdidn’twork,though.Notonlydidthecreatureclearthecorner,butherhalf-steplandedwrong,andherrightfootskiddedoutfromunderherassheroundedthecorner.
Shewentdowninthemuckwithasplash,catchingherselfonherhands.Shepushedherselfbackupimmediately,butitwastoolate.Theworm-thingroundedthecornerbehindherandspedup,mouthopeningtoswallowherwhole.Theinsideofitwasallsoftpinkfleshandyellowteeth.
Butasshestruggledtoregainherfooting,shenoticedsomething,downlowonthewall,thatsheneverwouldhavenoticedfromastandingposition.Itwasasliceinthestone,adarkhollow,barelyaswideasshewas.Andtheairbeforeitsmelledcleaner.Withlessthanasecondtospare,shethrewherselfintoit,jammingherselfintothestonecrack,feelingitsroughedgescutheropeninadozenplaces.
Thewormwhiskedpasther,evenlongerthanshethoughtitwas;itremindedheroftheChinesedragonspeoplemaneuveredonChineseNewYear.Thisonewasatleasttwodozenpeoplelong.
Itcontinueddownthetunnel—itwouldhavetogotoanotherturnandworkitswaybackaround,sincethesewereone-waytunnelsasfarasitwasconcerned.Shecouldgetoutofthecrevasse,goback,trytofindanotherwayout.
Butshewashere.Andtherewasdefinitelybreathableaircomingthroughthecrack.Ifshepushed...
I’llneverfit,shethought.
Butwhat’stheworstthatcouldhappenifItry?It’llkillme?
Likethewormwon’t.
Sheshovedherselffartherintotherockslit.Itwastight—tootight,shewassure.Butherownbloodlubricatedherpassageandmadeherskinslipacrosstherock.Morejaggedspurscuther,everywhere,butstillsheforcedherselfon,pushingherselfinchbyinchwithherfingertips.Nailssplinteredontherock;onepointyspotdugatrenchinherbackassheshovedherwaythrough.
Thefarthershewent,themoreithurt,andthemoreclaustrophobicshegrew.Hernosepushedagainsttherock,scratchingacrossthetip.Shetriedtolookto
Hernosepushedagainsttherock,scratchingacrossthetip.Shetriedtolooktoherright,toseewhatshewasedgingtoward,butshecouldseenothing.
Butasshekeptgoing,theairsmelledfresher.
Shecontinued.
Whenitseemedthatshecouldgonofarther,thatherscreamingmuscleswouldrebelagainstherandrefusetotakeheranotherinch,shefeltherselfmovingintoawiderspace.Afewmomentslater,itwaswideenoughtoallowhertoturnherhead,soshecouldsee,forthefirsttimesinceshe’denteredthecrevasse,whereshewasheaded.
Andtherewaslight.
Fromthere,itwaseasy.Shehadroomenoughtopushoffwithherhandsandfeet,propellingherselftowardtheopeningthroughwhichbeautifulwhitelightspilled.Thelightpickedoutdetails—arosyveininthegrayandblackspeckledrock,abitofanupthrustthatlookedtoherlikearosethorn—andtheywerebeautiful.Lightwasbeautiful.Airwaslovelybeyondallmeasure.Ittastedlikegold,likechocolate,likeapianoconcerto.
Threeminuteslater,shewasstandinginafield.
Shehademergedfromacliffface.Atthetop,builtofgraystonethatblendedalmostseamlessly,wasawallofthecastleshehadseenbefore,whenshewasbroughtheretobesacrificed.Butshecouldseenooneonthewall,nowindowsfacingherway.Therewasonlyalongmeadowoftallgrasses,andinthedistance,aforestandthemountains.
Shedidn’tknowwhereshewas,orwhatlayinsidetheforest,orhowfartothosemountains.
Butsheknewwhatwasinthecastle.Shestartedtowalk,gloryinginthesunshineonherface.
Afteranhourorso,sheguessed,shestillhadn’tcrossedtheentiremeadow.Althoughshewasnearexhaustion,she’dmadesomeprogress.Theforestwasahead,lessthanathirdofthedistanceshe’dalreadycovered.Fromhere,shecouldseethatthetreeswereincrediblytall,theirtopshigherthanthetallestredwoodsorgiantsequoiasshe’dseeninCalifornia.
Theywereintimidating—butbeautiful,andshecouldn’twaittobebackintheirshade.
Butbeforeshecouldreachthem,sheheardadecidedlyunnaturalsound,behindher—afanfareoftrumpets.
Shespunaround.Comingfromthecastle—thunderingherway—wasacompanyofsoldiers,trumpeterattheirhead.Theyweremounted,onthesamestrangebeastsshe’dbeencarriedonbefore.Andtheyrodeatfullgallop.
Oncemore,Salmastartedtorun.
Chapter6
LosAngeles
LOSANGELESWASANINFERNO.
ErnestoHernandezrodeshotgunwhileFlacoMontoyadrovetheSUV.Nickywasintheback,compulsivelychewingcinnamongum,tappinghisfingertipsagainsthisthigh.ThetwobodyguardswerechattinginthesingsongSpanishofthelowerclasses,andNickywaseavesdropping.Theirboss,RubenVelasco,wasdowninthehospitalinSunnydale.Someonehaddoneajobonhim,andeveryoneonthedelaNatividads’privatesecurityforcewasjittery.Ofcourse,Nicky’sfamilywouldn’tjustlethimgotothisCordeliaChase’shomeunaccompanied.
“L.A.isafreakin’warzone,hombre;pues,worsethanthelastsetofriots.Orale,it’scrazytogooutinthis,”Erniedrawled.
FlaconudgedErnie,wholoweredhisvoiceandchangedthesubject.Neitherofthebuffed-upmachoswantedthesonofthefamilytothinktheywerecowards.
Butthey’reright,Nickythought,ashegazedoutthewindow.Flamesblurredinshimmeringcurtainsastheypassedblockafterblockofburningbuildings.Policecarsscreamedeverywhere,likeabunchofhystericalchickswho’dseenaspiderontheflooroftheschoolgymorsomething.Nickyheardthefamiliarhollowsoundofgunfire,andreflexivelylookedfortheshooter.Twomenwerechasingeachotherdownthestreet.
Heshookhishead.MaybeSalmawassafer,wherevershewas,thanbeinginthemidstofthischaos.Isbringingherhomereallydoingherafavor?MaybeI
shouldjustleaveherthere.
Buthedidn’tbelieveit.Hedidn’tbelieveitforonesingleminute.Hehadtoknow.Hehadtoseeher,totalktoher.AndforallIknow,shecouldbedea—
“Nicky?OkayifIturnonRadioLatina?”Flacocalledtohim.
“Sure,mano.”NickygaveFlacoagrimsmileanddecidedtotrytobesociable.“YoueverseeLosTiranosinconcert?They’reawesome.”
“MyolderbrothersawSelenaonce,”Flacosaid.“Shewasahottie.”
Tillsomelunaticshother,Nickyaddedsilently,andfellbackintobrooding.
AnyonehurtsSalma,IaminvokingtheworstdemonIcanfind,andIamtearingthemapart.Heclenchedhisfistsandgrittedhisteeth,feelingtherushthatangerbrought.Hehadnomorepowers.HisNightoftheLongKniveswasover.
Mygrandmotherwillhelpme.
Buthewasnotsureofthat.Hewassureofnothing.
ExceptthatIwilldowhateverIcantomakeupforwhatIhavedone.Iwouldevendie.
TheroundglobuleofburninggoocaromedoffXander’smightyshield—whichhehadsnatchedoffthenearesttrashcan—andarcedintotheskylikeaflyballfromHell.
“Justletitbounce!”Gilescried,asJoyceheldouthertrashcanlidinanefforttocaptureit.Startledbyhisshout,sheyankedthelidaway,andthethingbouncedonthegroundandcametoarollingstop.
TaraandAnyagingerlyapproachedit.Itwassmoking,andthegrasssurroundingitwascatchingfire.Taradidsomethingwithherfingersandthefireswentout.
Mydaughterknowsthemostinterestingpeople,Joycethoughtwryly.Theotherwomeninmybookgroupgettobragabouttheirchildren’saccomplishments,butI’llbetnotoneoftheirkids’palshaseverputoutafirewithmagick.
“So,wasthat,like,anInitiativeguardiandroidorsomething?”Xanderasked,smoothingbackhishair.“DidyouseehowIdeflectedit?”headded,preeningforhisgirlfriend.
“YouwerelikeMickeyMantle,”shesaid.“AnddidyounoticethatIknewwhotocompareyouto?”
“Icertainlydid.”Heblewherakiss.“Allthatpop-cultureworkyou’vebeendoingispayingoff.”
Gilesforcedopenthedoortothebuildingandgesturedfortheotherstocomeinside.Itwasanold-fashionedfraternityhouse,ratherlikeonemightfindinthemovies,withoakwainscotingandbrasstrophiesinaglasscaseinthelivingroom.JoycefounditalmostimpossibletobelievethatRileyhadbeenasoldierinvolvedincovertoperationsbelowthisverybuilding,andthatthegovernmenthadsincefilledtheentiresubterraneanlaboratorywithconcrete.
Thiswastheirsecondattempttoaccessthelab.Firstthey’dgonetowhereSpikehadshowedBuffy“abackentrance”—asecretdoorconcealedinarockface.Nothingremainedofthedoor,however.Oroftherock.
It’skindofliketheX-Files,Joycethought,onlyit’sreal,andtherearenocommercials.
Atthebackoftheupstairshall,nexttowhathadoncebeenRiley’sroom,Xanderopenedasmallcompartmentandpressedabutton.Thefourofthemwaited.
Nothinghappened.
“It’sstilldeactivated,”XandersaidtoGiles,whonodded.
“Onemayassumethey’vepermanentlyscrappedtheentireproject,”Gilessaid.ToJoyce,headded,“We’vecheckedperiodically.Thoughtperhapstheymightsecretlyresumeoperations,orsomesuch.”
“Rileywouldt-tellus,”Tarainsisted.
“Right,”Xanderbitoff.“LikehetoldushewasintheInitiativeinthefirstplace.”
“OrB-Buffy,”Taraadded.
Xanderstilllookedunimpressed.“Yup.LikeshetoldusaboutAngelwhenhecamebackfromHell.”
Someday,Buffywillbringhomearegularboy,Joycethoughtwistfully.AndI’lljustkeeloveranddiefromshock.
“So,snoopingaroundtheInitiativestillnotanoption,”Xandercontinued,movinghisshoulders.“DoweaskRileyifheknowsanythingaboutflyinggooglobs,thereforenecessitatingthefessingupthatwehave,yetagain,nottrustedhim?”
“Whyshouldthatshameus?”Anyashrugged.“Hedidn’tfessuptous.WeonlyfoundouthewasintheInitiativebyaccident.”
“Butthat’sbecausehedidn’tt-trustus,”Tarapointedout.“Becausehedidn’tknowus.B-butwetrusthim,now.Because...he’sagoodguy,likeus.”
Xanderfrownedather.“Only,witharank,serialnumber,andreallybigguns.”
Tarasaid,“Il-likeRiley.He’snothidingany-th-thingfromus.”
Xandercockedhishead.“ExceptthatmaybethiswholethingissomethingelsetheInitiativecookedup,andthatgirlinLosAngeleswho’ssupposedtobefromRussiaisjustanundercoverU.S.D.A.-inspectedDr.WalshdronelookingforafreetriptoMars?”
“Well,weoughtn’tjumptoconclusions,”Gilessaid,butJoycesawuncertaintyflickeracrosshisfeatures.“WhyonearthwouldtheywanttogotoMars?”
“Whywouldanyonewanttomakesupersoldiersoutofusedpeopleanddemonparts?”Xandercountered.“Buttheydid.”
Joycefeltalittlequeasy.“MaybeBuffyshouldsignupforoneofthosevideodatingservices,”shesaidtoherself.“Ofcourse,Ihaven’tdonemuchbetterwithmen.”Whensherealizedshe’dspokenaloud,sheflushedandglancedatGiles.“Intheactualboyfrienddepartment,Imean.IwasthinkingofTed,myhomicidalrobot.”
AnyasmiledatJoyce.“Don’tbetoohardonyourself.Lookathowmany
AnyasmiledatJoyce.“Don’tbetoohardonyourself.LookathowmanymonstersXanderdatedbeforehefoundme.”
“Youhaveapoint,”Joycesaidwistfully.
“Besides,thosecookieswerereallyawesome,”Xandersaid,alsosoundingwistful.“Okay,mind-numbingingredient,butthatguyknewhowtoproperlyexploitthechocolatechips.”
“Well,shallwemoveon?”Gilespusheduphisglasses.“We’renotgoingtofindanyclueshere.”
“MaybeWesleywillfigureouttheproblemfirst,”Anyaoffered.“Thatwouldsaveusalotoftrouble.”
“Nottomentionpride,”Xanderdrawled.“ThatwouldjustmakeyourWatcher-guyday,wouldn’tit,G-man?”
Gilesclosedhiseyes.“Ihavetoldyou,manytimes,nottocallmethat.”
“Sorry.”Xandersmiledbrightly,notatallcontrite.
JoycesaidtotheWatcher,“Maybeweshouldgobacktoyourplace,andlookinsomemorebooks.”
“Indeed.”Gileslookedrelieved.“Books.”
Xandermoaned.“Morereading.Yuck.Iwanttogowheretheactionis.”
“IwonderifR-Riley’sfoundanything,”Tarasaid,“onp-patrol.”
“Maybesomethingfoundhim,”Anyapipedup.“Andatehim.”
“Isthisgirl’sglasshalf-fullorwhat?”Xandersaidwarmly.
“Children,please.”Gilessighedandledthewayoutofthefraternityhouse.Joycetookuptherear,feelingratherlikeadenmother.
“Anymoregooglobs,Igotdibs,”Xanderannounced.
“Youcanhavethem,”Anyatoldhim.
“It’snotjustaglob,it’sanadventure,inthisSlayer’sarmy,”Xandersaid
“It’snotjustaglob,it’sanadventure,inthisSlayer’sarmy,”Xandersaidgleefully.
Joycelookednervouslyleftandright,andfollowedaftertherestofthetroops.
Rileypatrolled,acutelyalert,stayingontaskdespitethefactthatmemoriesoflifeintheInitiativestrayedthroughhismind’seye.BuffyhadoftenridiculedForrestforreferringtotheteamas“thefamily,”buttheyhadbeenafamily.Themilitaryknewhowtobuildcamaraderie,andforgetiesbetweenmenwhomightotherwisenotbond.MaybethefeelingsofbrotherhoodhadbeenengineeredbyMaggieWalshandtherestofthecorruptscientificcommunityinchargeoftheoperation,butforRileyandtheothers,thosefeelingshadbeenreal.
Buffyhadafamily—hermotherandtheScoobyGang—butshedidnotrelyonthemthesamewayRileyhadreliedontheotherguysinOps.Shestillheldherselfaloof,andhewasn’tcertainsherealizedit.Neverquiteletanyonein—keptsecrets,heldback—andneverquiteletherselffeelthatclosenesshelongedtosharewithher.
WasshedifferentwithAngel?hewondered.Shegaveherselftohim.Hewasherfirstlover...andherfirstlove.Didthehurtteachhertowithdraw?OrdidAngelfeelittoo,thatplaceshegoeswherenooneelsecanreachher?
Orisitjustaplaceshe’sfoundwhereshecanmaintainsomedistancefromme?
Hesighed,heardanoise,whirledaround.Healmostlaughedaloud;hereinMadnessCentral,aplainoldchipmunkhadstartledhim.Itdartedupatree,turnedbackaround,staredathim,chittered,anddisappearedintothefoliage.ItgavehimpausetoconsiderthatevenonaHellmouth,naturekeptondoingwhatwasnatural.
Hecontinuedon,scouting,watching,stayingcalmandkeepinghisreflexesattheready.Hewonderedwhatthegangwasdoing.
Reading,probably.Gilesprobablyhasthematthosebooks,andbythetimeIgetbackthere,he’llhaveatheoryaboutwhat’sgoingon...andagoodone,too.
HethoughtofMaggieWalsh,andsighed.Damnfinescientist...butdamncrazy,too.
Hefelttheshadowbeforehesawit:afrigidpuddleofdarknessthatslippedacrossWeatherlyPark,consumingintoblacknessthetreesandbushes.Heunsnappedhispistol,knowingashedidsothatitwouldbeuselessagainsttheshadowmonster.Buthehadnoideawhatelsetodo.
Buffy’snothere,hetoldtheshadow.ButIam.
Theshadowslidalong,alivingbeing.Hewonderedifitwassentient.Wasitawareofhim?Hestoodhisground,watching,alert,spinningadozenstrategiesforcombatingthemonster.
IshouldhavebroughtTaraalong,hethoughtbelatedly.Wemakeaprettygoodteam,actually.
Theydon’tgiveherenoughcreditforthethingsshedoes.Shecontributesalot,especiallyinthemagickdepartment.Buttheyprobablyjustseeherasahanger-on.Willow’sgirlfriend.
KindalikemeandBuffy.
Theshadowturned,theblacknessaslow-movingblurthatstoppedwhenthemajorityofitwasfacingRiley.Itstoodtransfixed,perhapstenfeetacrossandfifteenfeethigh.
AllRiley’ssenseshonedinonhistarget.Iftherewasfearinsidehim,itwassotightlycorralledthatitmightaswellhavebeennonexistent.HisSpecialOpsdrillsergeanthadworkedonreplacingthedeep-seated,reptilianreactiontothreatswithaconsciousandhighlyevolvedsetofsurvivalskills.InaseasonedveteranlikeRiley,thefight-or-flightresponsewasallbutgone,andinitsplace,Rileyranthroughaseriesofanalyticalstrategies,calculatinghisbestoddsforsurvival.PlanA,PlanB,PlanC...
Thecreatureremainedmotionless.Then,slowly,itbegantomoveintoaverticalcolumn,pilingitselfonemassatopanother,almostlikethesectionsofamillipede,reachingupintothetreetopslikeathunderhead.Itthrewbackwhatmightbeaheadandahideousshrieksplitthesky.
It’schallengingme,herealized.It’sgoingtoattack.
PlanD,PlanE...
ThepolicecarremainedonMischa’stail.HeknewthestolenSaturnwouldneverbeabletooutruntheCaliforniaHighwayPatrol.Mileaftermileslippedby,eachonebringingtheArizonaborderthatmuchcloser.Ifhecouldmaketheborder,herealized,theCHPofficerwouldhavetogiveup,turnback.HemightalerttheArizonaauthoritiesofthestolencarenteringtheirstate,butthatmightstillgiveMischaanedgehecoulduse.
Ineedsomethingthatgoesfaster,hethought.Somethingthatdoesn’tneedagoodroad.
Asifreadinghisthoughts,thepolicecar’slightbarcameon.Redandbluelightsflashedinhisrearview,illuminatingtheSaturn’sinterior.
Stop?hethought.
Alina’swaiting.
AlinaneedsmeattheGrandCanyon.
HeflooredtheacceleratorandtheSaturnlungedforward.
Backtoseventy-five.Eighty.
Ninety.
Behindhim,thepolicecarkeptpace.Itssirenwailed.
Mischacombedtheroadaheadfortheborder,butitdidn’tappear.
Avoiceboomedfromthepolicecar,almostgodlikeinitspower.“Pullover!”itcommanded.“GoldSaturn,pulltothesideoftheroadnow!”
Mischaignoredit,keptgoing.Thespeedometercrepthigher.Ninety-five.Thecarshudderedasifitwouldbreakapart.Onehundred.
Ahead,apatchoflightshonebesidetheroad.Anexitsignflashedpast,promisingagasstation.
Thepolicecarstayedrightonhistail.Mischaknewthatthecopswouldn’tgiveupuntilhehadreachedArizona,butArizonakeptnotappearing.Anymoment
theymightstartshooting.
Iwon’tbeanygoodtoAlinadead,hethought.
Butmaybetherewasanotherway.
Atthelastmoment,hepulledoffthefreeway,catchingthelittlepatchofgravelbesidetheexit.Hefishtailed,aplumeofdustandrockkickingintotheairbehindhim,butthenhisfrontwheelsfoundthepavementandheshotuptheexitramp.
Thepolicecarstayedrightbehind.
AtthetopoftherampwasaGas-N-Gostation,abeaconoflightagainsttheeveningdesertsky.Therewasanoldtruckparkedclosetotheminimart,andanewerSUVsatatoneofthepumps.Mischaturnedintothelotandstompedonthebrakeatthesametime.TheSaturnstartedtospin,butitsABScaughtandthecarcorrectedandslidtoastopinthegravellot.
Mischaboltedfromthecar,leavingthedoorwideopen,andmadefortheminimart.Behindhim,lightsandsirengoing,thepolicecarlurchedintothelot.
LosAngeles
Cordeliastoodinthekitchenwithacupofherveryown,homemadecoffeeinherhands,whenthefrontdoorburstopen.
ShesaidtoPhantomDennis,“Don’tbesodramatic.Youcan’tflounceoutthedoorlikesomehuffyhousewifejustbecauselife’snotfairandit’syourturntodothedisheswhenthereareactuallydishestobedone.”
“Yes?Hello?”Wesleyasked,givingheralookashewenttothedoor.
“It’sjustDennis,”Cordeliainformedhim.“He’shavingatempertantrumbecausehethinksit’smyturntodothedishes.ButIdidthelunchplate.”Shelookedvictorious.“It’snotmyfaultiftherewasonlyonethingtowashwhenitwasmyturn.Andbesides—”
“MayIhelpyou?”Wesleyasked,withatouchofexasperation.
“Angel,”saidawoman’svoice,inthicklyaccentedEnglish.“Ishehere?Hegaveusthisaddress.”
Cordelialeftthekitchenandhurriedtowardthedoor.Behindher,thekitchenfaucetturnedon.Dishesbegantorattle.Shesmiledtoherselfandkeptwalking.
Threepeoplestoodhuddledintheentrytoherapartment.Theywereclearlyafamily,Mom,Dad,andalittleboy,allthreewithwarm,cocoa-coloredskinandblackhair.Theylookedtiredandfrightened.
“I’mRojelioFlores,”themanannounced.
Cordelia’seyeswidened.Theguyfromthejail,shefilledin.TheoneAngelsavedfromtheBigHouse.
“Comein,”shesaid.“Angel’snothererightnow.He’s...elsewhere.”Attheirsaggingexpressionsofdisappointment,sheaddedhopefully,“Butwehavecoffee.”
“Ay.”Thewomantouchedtheman’sshoulder.Atearsliddownhercheekandshesortofcavedinonherself,asifshe’donlymanagedtokeepgoinguntilshehitCordelia’sthreshold.“Ifyoudon’tmind...”
“No,comeonin,”Cordeliaurged.“I’musedtohavingpeopledroppinginwithoutcallingfirst.Really.”
“Actually,wetriedtocall,butwegotyourvoicemail,”Rojeliotoldherasheputhishandsonhisson’sshouldersandgentlyherdedhiminside.Theboy’seyeswereblearyandtherewerelinesunderthem.
“Huh.”Cordeliafrowned.“Dennis,”shecalled,“didyouusethephone?”
Therewasnoanswer—likeIwasexpectingone—andshecrossedintothelivingroom,theFloresfamilytrailingbehindher.Shepickedhercordlessofftheendtableandpressedittoherear,avoidingimpalingherselfwiththepostofherlargesilverhoop.Therewasasshingnoiselikedeadaironaradiostation,whichdidnotgoawaywhenshepressedthedisconnectbutton.Shesetthephoneinthecradle.
“Itmustbeoffthehookinthebedroom,”shesaid.
“Wecouldn’tstayinthemotel,”Mrs.Floresexplainedasshetookaseatonthecouch.Hersonscootedbesideher,pressedveryclose.“Itwasn’tsafeanymore.”
Acrosstheroom,Cordelia’sveryfavoritefloorlamptoppledoverwitharesoundingcrash.
“Dennis!”shecalled.
Mrs.Floreslookedatherhusband,whosighed.Thenthelittleboysaid,“I’msorry,lady.I’llpayforitwhenIhavesomemoney.”
Thewoman’seyeswelled.SheputherarmsaroundhersonandheldhimagainstherbodyashishugebrowneyesstaredfearfullyintoCordelia’sface.
Cordeliapeeredintothekitchen.Aspongeattackedsomestubborn,baked-ongreaseinaglasscasseroledish,thensploshedinthesoapywaterinthesink.Denniswasotherwiseoccupied.
“MysonandIhavepowers,”Rojeliosaid.
“Oh.”Shesmiledatthelittleboy.“It’sallright,”shesaid.“Please,don’tthinkathingaboutmylamp.”Oranythingelseinmyapartment,sheaddedsilently.
Thelampbegantolift,thenslammedbackdowntothefloor.Itwasfollowedbyatrioofbooksthatflewacrosstheroom.
Theboycriedoutandburiedhisfaceagainsthismother’sshoulder.
Wesleysaid,“It’sallright.Please,justtakeabreath.”HelookedatCordelia.“Psychokineticepisodesgenerallyincreaseinstrengthandunpredictabilitywhenthesenderisagitated.”
“Carlos,Carlitos,miamor,”thewomansoothed.Stillstandingbehindthecouch,hisfatherpattedtheboy’sheadandtheboymumbledsomething.
Thenthefathercamebesidehisfamilyandsatwearilydown.TheFloresfamilysattherelikeSeeNoEvil,HearNoEvil,andAstrallyProjectNoEvil.Surveyingherdomain,perhapstakinganinventoryofthebreakables,Rojeliopinchedthebridgeofhisnoseandwipedhiseyes.Hesaid,“Maybeweshouldn’tstayhere.”
“Wehavenowhereelsetogo,”Mrs.Floresmurmured.SheheldoutahandtoCordelia.“Someonehasbeenshootingatus.Itmaybethefriendsofthosemenwhoframedmyhusband.Andthemotelisoverrunwithgangmembers.”
“Isawamangetshot,”theboyinformedWesley.“Bloodspurtedout!”
“Oh,myGod,”Cordeliasaid,movedtotears.ShelookedatWesley.“WehavegottogetAngelback.”
“Back?”Mrs.Floresechoed.
“Whoops,”Cordeliamutteredtoherselfasshewentdownthehall.“Um,checkingonthephone,okay?”
Shewasabouttoknockonherbedroomdoorwhenitopened.Willowstoodinthedoorway,lookingkindofwhiteandnotsogood.
“Hey.”Shewipedthesleepinessfromhereyes,smudgingwhatlittlemascarashehadbotheredtoapplyoh,maybeyesterday.“I’msotired.Ifeeldead.”
“Youlookokay,though,”Cordeliainformedher.SheglommedontoWillow’sarmanddrewherdownthehall.“Didyouguysusethephone?”
“Huh?”Willowyawned.
“Nevermind.I’mgladyou’reawake.Icanuseyourhelp.”
Whentheycameintothelivingroom,CordeliaputherarmaroundWillow’sshoulder.“Willow,”shesaidcheerily,extendingherhand.“MeettheFloresfamily.Theyarepsychotic.”
“Psychokinetic,”Wesleycorrected.
ShesmiledbrightlyatWillow.“CouldyoumaybehelptheFloresestonedowntheirpowersorsomething?Immediately,ifnotsooner,especiallybeforesomebodybreakssomethingreallyvaluable,liketheshotglassthebartenderatD’ObliquetoldmeLeoDiCapriohadatequilaboilerin?”
“Whichispatentlyridiculous,”Wesleybegan,butCordeliasilencedhimwithanimperiouswaveofherhand.
“I’mnotsureIcanactuallystopamentalpowerlikethat,”Willowsaidthoughtfully.Herspeechwasalittleslurred.“ButIcouldsetupsomewards.”
“Great.”Cordeliapulledherintothecenterofthelivingroom.“Warditup.”
“Where’sAlina?”Wesleyasked.
Willowshrugged.“Shedecidedtotakeanap.We’reboth...I’msotired,”shesaidagain.
“WhereisAngel?”Carlospiped.
“Angelis...helpingafriendofours,”Cordeliasaidbrightly.Inanotherdimension,butIdon’twanttofrightenCarlos,cuzweknowwhatthosewackyfolkswithpsychicpowerscando.
Anotherbookfelloutofthebookshelf.
“Wow,Cordelia,youneverusedtoread,”Willowsaid.“Nowyouownbooks.”
“Yeah,well.”CordeliaglancedanxiouslyatCarlos.“There’salotaboutmethatyoudon’tknow,Willow.I’mverydifferentfromwhenIlivedinSunnydale.Sosnapitup,Rosenberg.Imean,please.”
Willowtrudgedintothelivingroomandsmileduncertainlyatthepeopleonthecouch.Cordeliasaid,“Angelhelpedthisfamilywithsomeproblems.Nowthey’rehere.Formorehelp,whichwearemorethanhappytoprovide.”
“Howdoyoudo?”Willowaskedpolitely.“I’mWillowRosenberg.”Theyregardedherwithuncertainty.Shesaid,“I’mgoingtodoalittlemagick,allright?Justasafeguard,forprotection.”
“Ay,”Mrs.Floressaid,crossingherself.“We’reCatholic.”
“That’sokay,”Willowassuredher.“SoisDoñaPilar,andshe’sabruja.”
Cordeliasmiled.“Besides,Willow’sJewish.”
Everyonelookedatherasiftryingtodiscerntheimportanceofthatfact,andwhenCordeliarealizedshedidn’tknow,either,shemerelysaid,“I’llgocheckonAlinaandputthephonebackonthehook.”
onAlinaandputthephonebackonthehook.”
Sheleftthegroup,thenturnedaroundandsaid,“I’llmakesomemorecoffeewhenIcomeback.And...”Shethoughtforamoment,wonderingiftherewasanythinginthefridge.GoodthingXanderdidn’tcomealong,shethought.He’dhavescarfeddowneverythinginsightbynow.
Notthatthere’sanyfoodinsightrightnow,butanyway...
Shewalkedbackdowntheairyhallofherlarge,airyapartment,thinkingtoherselfthatshewouldbeeternallygratefultoDennis’smomforwallinghimupalive.ItwastoobadthatshehadpersuadedsomanyformertenantstokillthemselvesbeforeAngel,Doyle,andshemanagedtoexorcisehersoDenniscouldblasthertoHellorwherever.
Butthat’swhytherentwascheap,whichiswhyIgettoliveinthisbeautifulplace.
Sherappedlightlyonthebedroomdoor.“Alina?”
Therewasnoanswer,whichconfirmedCordelia’ssuspicionthattheRussiangirlhadfallenasleep.Sheturnedtheknobandwentinside.
Alinawasflatonherbackwithhermouthhangingopen.Herleftarmwasoutstretched,herhandhanginglimplyovertheside,andthephonewasonthefloor.Cordeliabentgracefullydown—herparentshadpaidafortuneforcharmschoollessonsbackinthathubofcharm,Sunnydale—andpickedupthephone.
Astrangebuzzingemanatedfromtheheadset.Frowningslightly,Cordeliaputittoherear.
Windanddeathandsomethingverycold...somethingverywrong...somethingthatwasthelackofgoodness...
“Eek!”shecried,anddroppedthephone.
Alinakindofgaspedandboltedupright.“Mama!”shescreamed.
Cordeliascreamedback,andthetwoscreamedonemoretimeforextrameasure,andthenWesleywasintheroom,grabbingCordelia’sarmsandsaying,“Whatisit?”
“Idon’tknow!”Sheshuddered.Herkneesbuckled.“Ireallyhavenoidea.”
Alinasaid,“Thereissomethinginthisapartmentthatshouldnotbehere.”Shestooduponthebedasifasnakewaswindingaroundherankles.
“Okay,youknowaboutDennis,”Cordeliasaid,abitputout.
Justthen,thebedslidabouttwofeettotheright.Alinafelloff,andWesleyletgoofCordeliaintimetocatchAlinabeforeshehitthefloor.
Shesaid,“Somethingisunbalanced.Theworldhasgonethewrongway.”
“Yougotthatright,”Cordeliaventured.
“Like...”Wesleycontemplatedthevastfieldofmetaphorsandsimilesathisdisposal.“LikeariftintheForce?”
Thegirllookedconfused.“Rift?”
“Hemeans,issomethingbrokenintheum,world-space?”Cordeliaoffered,belatedlyrealizingherswasametaphorwithnobasisinEnglish.
Wesleyfrownedather.“‘World-space?’”
“Precisely,”Alinaexclaimed.“Andnowit’sinthephone.”
“Oh,great.Myphone’spossessed,”Cordeliasaid,sighing.“ItwasprobablyCarlos.”
“Cordelia,hedoesn’tpossessthings,”Wesleysaidpatiently.“GogetWillow,andaskhertodepossessyourphone.”Asshecrossedtheroom,heturnedbacktoAlina.“Didsomethingfollowyouhere?Isitsomethingthatwassomehowseekingyouout?”
Sheshookherhead.“Idon’tknow.Ithink...IthinksomethinghappenedwhenwetriedtousetheRealityTracer.Butsomethingisverywrong.”
CordeliafoundWillowinthekitchen,slowlydrinkingaglassofwater.Denniswasstillworkingonthedishes.
Willowsaid,“I’mfeelingbetter.”
“Good,cuzyouhaveworktodo,”Cordeliaannounced,grabbingherbythehandanddraggingherbacktowardherbedroom.“Somethingismajorlywrongwithmyphone,anddoyouknowwhatitmeanstoanactresstobelackingaphone?Nojobs!Nowork!”
“IthoughtyourjobwashelpingAngel,”Willowpointedout.
Cordeliagaveheralook.“Excuseme,butIhappentoaspiretosomethingbetter.”
“Betterthansavingtheworldfromtheforcesofdarkness?”
“Well,yeah.”Sheshrugged,atinybitabashed,butjustatinybit.AngelknowswhatImean.“Justlastweek,Iverynearlygotacallbackforanantiperspirantcommercial.”Shegaveherheadatoss.“Ijustdidn’thavethestinkychicklookdown.”
Willownodded.Shemovedhershoulders.“Youknow,Ifeellotsbetter,”shereflected.“Notjustalittlebetter.”
Theywalkedintotheroom.Thebedwasontheotherside;WillowturnedtoAlinaandsaid,“Rearrangingthefurniturebecause?”
AlinablurtedsomethinginRussian.Wesley,Cordelia,andWillowstaredatherintotalbewilderment.Thenshesaid,“Isnolongerinphone.Isinbed.”
Asifoncue,thebedstartedtoshake.Willowreachedoutahandandintonedaspellofprotection.
“Hecate,heedmyplea.Keepmeandminefreefromallharm,withoutandwithin.Makesafeallwhodwellwithinthesewalls,andbanishallevilfromourmidst.”
Whiletheylookedon,somethingblackandsmudgyrosefromthebed,likesootysmoke,andcurleduptowardtheceiling.Ithoveredthere,thenmovedright,thenleft,asifsearchingforsomething.CordeliaslidaglancetowardWillow,toseehowshewasreacting,andwasnotcomfortedbytheexpressionofconfusiononWillow’sface.
“IthinkweneedtotrytheRealityTraceragain,”shesaid.“Ithinkthisissomethingthat’snotsupposedtobehere.”
somethingthat’snotsupposedtobehere.”
“Butnothingcouldcomeintothisreality,”Alinaprotested.“Weweresendingoutward.Here,inLosAngeles,noonecancomethrough.Imadesure.”
“Butthatthing’snotworkingright,right?”Cordeliaobserved.“Soyoucan’tbesureofanything.”
“Cuz,likeSunnydalehasalotofintogoingon,”Willowsaid.“Monstersandstuff.Oh,butyoudidn’tdothat,right?”
Alinanodded.CordeliafoundherselfthinkingthattheRussiangirlwaskindof...colorless.Ifsomeoneaskedherwhatshewaslike,Cordeliawouldn’tknowwhattosay.
Alinahesitatedandlookedather.“I’mafraid,”sheconfessed.“Thinkofifyoulivedyourwholelifewithpeoplewhocouldreadyourmind.Itisaveryhardwaytogrowup.”
“Ididn’tmean...”Cordeliabegan,thentrailedoff.Iseewhatyoumean,shesaidsilentlytoAlina,whonoddedslowlyinreply.Itsucks.
Alinasaidtoboththegirls,“Someonewastryingtofindme.Idon’tknowiftheblackthingwasbecauseofthat.Butwhoeveritwas,itwasn’tMischa.”
“We’llprotectyou,”Wesleypromised.
“Yeah.We’llgettheFloresguystothrowlampsatanyonewhobreaksdownmyfrontdoor,”Cordeliasaiddryly.Thenshemadeafaceasshewatchedthesmokytrailslitheracrossherceiling.Asitundulatedalong,cracksappeared.Apieceofplasterwedgedlooseandlandedwithanunceremoniousthunkonthefloor.
“Onsecondthought,Dennismightbeabletohelpwithsomekitchenknives,”Cordeliasuggested.“Getcrackingwiththetoaster,okay,girls?”
“It’slikeanentropycurrent,”Wesleymused.“IwonderifIhavesomeinformationonthat.Cordelia,thosebooksIbroughtover...”
“TheonesCarloshasbeenthrowingalloverthefloor?”Sheflushedandrolledhereyes.“Okay,Willow,soIhaven’tboughtanybooksinL.A.,allright?ButonlybecauseWesleyandAngelbuyalltheonesIwouldhavebought,excepttheybuythemfirst.”
theybuythemfirst.”
“I’mthinkingTheoreticalAlternativesforEntropicalPermutations,”WesleysaidtoWillow.“I’vegotthenewedition.”
“Ooh.”Willow’seyeswidened.“TheonewiththeintroductionbyStephenHawking?”
“No,mycopy’sgotthealternativeintro.Itjustfallsapart,”Wesleyretorted,andthetwosharedamomentofamusementthatCordeliajustdidnotget.ToCordelia,hesaid,“Wouldyoumind?It’sthatbigheavyredoneCarlosheftedoutofthecase.”
Relegatedtoerrandgirl,Cordeliathought.Nextthingyouknow,they’llbeaskingmeto—
“Anddoyouthinkyoumightmakesomemorecoffee?”Wesleyadded.Shewasjustabouttogrowlathimwhenhesaid,“It’ssodelicious.Itmustbethewayyouloadthebeansintothefilterjustso.”
Shescrutinizedhimformockery,founditabsent,andpreened.“Allright,”shesaidbrightly.“I’llbebackinalittlewhile.”
Shetrotteddownthehall,sawtheFloreses,whohadgottentotheirfeetandwerehuddlingtogether,andsaid,“Everything’sfine.”“Whatwasthescreamingabout?”“Mybediskindofsmoking.Oritwas.”Shetriedagain.“Evilwasinthephone.Orsomething.Doyouknowwhatentropicalalternativesare?Anyway.”Shesmiledatthem.“Whowantssomemorecoffee?”
Sunnydale
“Verywell,oldboy,”GilessaidtoWesley.“Entropycurrents.I’lllookintoit.”Smilingfaintly,hehungupandlookedatthegroup.Hissmilefaded.“Hethoughtofitfirstbecauseithappenedtohimfirst.SomethingcrawledintoCordelia’sphoneandalsomadeherbedsmoke.”
“Isaidnothing,”Xandersaidinnocently,asAnyaglancedhisway.“IhavenothingtosayaboutCordelia’ssmokingbed.”
TarahidalittlesmileassherememberedhearingaboutthetimeWillowaccidentallysetherownbedonfire.Imissherso.
“What’sanentropycurrent?”Joyceasked.
“Well,entropyistheprinciplethateventuallythingsreturntochaos.So,anentropycurrentislikea...achannelofdisorder.”
“Oh,”Joycesaidblankly.
“Likewhensomeone’sorbitdecays,”Xanderexplained.
“Actually,that’saninaccuracy.Anorbitdoesn’tactuallydecay.Rather,it...”Gilesbegan,thencaughthimself,asherealizedhisexplanationwasstartingtodecay.“Atanyrate,there’satheorythattherearechaoscurrentsinthemagickalatmosphere,muchastherearethermalcurrentsinthenaturalworld.”Hewanderedovertohisbookcaseandscannedthetitleswithobviouseagerness.
Joycelookedtired.Taracoulddefinitelyrelate.WorryingaboutWillowwastakingquiteatollonher;JoycewastheSlayer’smomandshemusthavecertainlyaccumulatedalotofstressandworryovertheyears.Everydayjustaddedmore.
Gilespulledoutafewbooksandbeganhandingthemout,saying,“Well,youallwantedtodoresearch,andhereweare.”
“Muchjoy,”Xandermumbled.“Ornot.”
Thensomethingcrashedagainsttheapartmentwallandtheyalllookedateachother.
“Moremonsters,”Anyaannounced.“Theyseemtocomeinbunches.”
“Hmm.Perhapsreinforcingthetheoryofentropycurrents,”Gilessaid.
Theysettoreading.Nowandthensomethingwouldroaroutsideorshufflepastthebuilding.Everyonefairlymuchignoredeachindividualoccurrence.ButTaracouldfeelherselfbecomingagitated.Shelookeddownatthebookinherlapandthelettersswam.
Finally,shesaidtotheothers,“Ineedtogetsomefreshair.”
Finally,shesaidtotheothers,“Ineedtogetsomefreshair.”
Gilesraisedhisbrowsandsaid,“Doyoureallythinkthat’sagoodidea?”
“Yeah,”Xanderadded,“thefreshairisfilledwithfreshmonsters.”
Anyachuckledandgavehimapeckonthecheek.
Tarafeltthwarted,andclaustrophobic.Sherememberedthatthisfeelinghadcomeoverheroncebefore,whenshehadrealizedtheScoobyGangdidn’tconsiderheroneoftheirown.
AmIhavingapanicattack?shewondered.
“I-Ineedtogo,”sheblurted,fightingherstammer.
“ThenI’llgowithyou,”Xandersuggested.“Youshouldn’tgoouttherealone.”
“Xander,you’resuchahe-man,”Anyacooed.“EvenifIgetmypowersbacksomeday,Iwillnever,evereviscerateyou.”
“An,howromantic.Yetoddlycomforting,”hesaid.Helookedaround.“RileyleaveanyUzislyingaround?Bazookas?Wishwestillhadtherocketlauncher.”
“Thatwasafineweapon,”Gilessaidwistfully.
JoyceSummersstaredathim.“Whenwastherearocketlauncher?”
“I’llgetamace.Ilikemaces,”Xandersuggested,ashecrossedtoGiles’sweaponstrunk.Herummagedaround,thenheftedawood-handledweapontoppedwithametalspherecoveredwithspikes.“Howaboutyou?”heaskedTara.“Wouldyoulikeashishkabobberorsomething?”
“I-I’llsticktomagick,”shesaidshyly.
“Giles,whenwastherearocketlauncher?Didyougivemydaughterarocketlauncher?”Joycepersisted.
XandersaidtoTara,“Let’sblowthispopstandwhiletheydukeitout.”Heflashedhisfriendlygrinatherandtogethertheywalkedtothedoor.
“Don’tletanyonebiteyourheadoff,”Anyacalled.
“We’lljuststeprightoutsidedoornumber217soshecanbreatheinthesmokeandashparticles,”Xanderpromised.“Thenwe’llcomerightbackin.Good,Tara?”
“S-sure.”Sheduckedherhead.ShelikedXanderandAnya.Shewonderedwhatwouldhappeniftheothersdiscoveredthatallthewomeninherfamilyweredemons.Thatwaswhyshe’dlefthomeandcometoSunnydale...toescape,ifnotthatlegacy,thenatleasttokeepherterriblesecrettoherself.ButshefiguredthatifAnyafoundout,shewouldforgiveherfornotcomingforward...andshemightactuallylikeherevenbetter.
Notthatshe’sunfriendlynow,Tarathought.
“Perhapsyoushouldalsohaveapropershield,”Gilessuggested,crossingtohisweaponschestandforagingaroundforsomething.Hestoodupwithanimpressivecircularleathershieldinhishand.
Xandertookit,testingtheheft,andsaid,“AndtothinktheyusedtolaughatmyDungeonsandDragonsgroupdownatthecomic-bookstore.MyDungeonmasterwouldbesoproud.Ofcourse,myDungeonmasterisdead,”hereflected.HeturnedtoTaraandsaid,“Hegoteatenduringgraduation.”
“That’s—that’stoobad,”Tarasaidsincerely.Herchestfeltasifitwereabouttoburstatthesametimethatherthroatwasclosingup.Thisisapanicattack,shethought.
“Actually,itwasthewayhewouldhavewantedtogo,ifhe’dhadachoice.Ofcourse,hewouldhavepreferredtobeeatenduringfinals.Orapeprally.NotalotofRazorbackspiritintheol’D.M.”
Unawareofherdistress,Xanderstrolledtothedoor.Tarareachedforward,turnedtheknob,andyankedthedooropen.Shepracticallyboltedacrossthethreshold,andsheknewshewasbecomingmoreandmoreirrational.
Thensheknewwhy.
“Riley!”shesaid,aswavesofsensations,allunpleasant,washedoverher.“Ithinkhe’sintrouble.”
Xandercockedhishead.“Because...?”
Shedidn’tknowhowtoexplain.“Ihaveafeeling.”
“Worksforme.”Hepoppedhisheadintotheapartment.“Giles.TarathinksRiley’sintrouble.”
“Really?Howso?”Gilesasked.
“She’sawitch,”Xanderremindedhim.“Solet’sgo,okay?”Gilesappearedlessthanfivesecondslater,acrossbowinhishand.Anyawasrightbehindhimwithasmallhandax.AndMrs.Summers,withwhatlookedtobeamachete.
“DoyouknowwhereRileyis?”GilesaskedTara.
Tarashookherhead,sorryshedidn’thavemoretogoon.“Ionlyhaveas-sensethathe’sindanger.”
“We’dbettersplitup,”Gilesdecided.“Tara,gowithXander.AnyaandIwillgo...somewhereyoutwodon’t.Joyce,staybythephone.Please.”
“I...”JoyceSummersnoddedandloweredhermachete,asifrealizingthatreallywasthebestthingshecoulddo.“It’stoobadSpike’snothere,”shesaid.“Hecouldlistenformessages.”
“See?Someguyswillgointoaninterdimensionalrealitytoavoidthelittlestbitofwork,”Xanderbitoffastheyhustleddownthestairs.“Slacker.”
Allthebuildingsfacingthemwereablaze.Therewerenofiretrucks,noambulances,nopolicecars.Theyhadallbeendispatchedtootheremergencies.AllSunnydalewasonebigemergency.
Afiercelyuglytrollzippedpast.Xandertookahalfheartedswingatitandmissed.Thetrollshothimasneerandkeptgoing.Xandershruggedandsaid,“Okay,Tara,findTimmy!”
Taragavehimalook.“I’mnotLassie,”shesaid.Butshepointedtotheirrightandsaid,“Let’stryoverthere.”
“We’llgolookattheruinsoftheschool,”Gilessuggested.“Rileylikestopatrolthere.”
“Yup.SomeofhishappiestmomentswithBuffywerespentthere,”Xandersaid
“Yup.SomeofhishappiestmomentswithBuffywerespentthere,”Xandersaidsarcastically.Hesighed.“Soweremine.Well,therewaswatchingtheplaceblowup.”
TaraandXandermovedout,walkingbriskly.Xanderputthebattleaxoverhisshoulderandstartedhumming“FollowtheYellowBrickRoad.”Tarausedtobeshockedbythewaythesepeoplejokedduringtimesofcrisis,butshehadcometorealizethattheydidittokeepthemselvesfromwiggingout.Beingwryandcynicalwasawaytogroundthemselves,pokefunatdeath.Itwasthesamewithfighterpilotsandemergencyroomdoctors.
“Ifyou’rethescarecrow,whoamI?”sheasked,astheskythunderedandrolled,makingthegroundshake.
“Well,let’ssee.Youdefinitelyhaveaheart,”hesaid,smilingather.“Andabrain.”
“I’mtheCowardlyLion,”sheventuredshyly.
“Noway.”Xanderchuckled.“You’reoneofthebravestpeopleI’veevermetinmylife.”
Tarawassurprised...andverypleased.“Thank...thankyou.”
“It’safact.I’dbeterrifiedtodohalfthestuffyoudo.Andcomingout...thatwasreallybraveofyouandWill.”Hegrinnedather.Thenhissmilefellalittle.“She’shappy,right?”
Hestilllovesher,Tararealized.Apartofhimwillalwaysloveapartofher.Andthat’sfinewithme.
There’ssomuchmoretorelationshipsthanwhatmeetstheeye.Thepairingupandthebeingcouplesandthebeinginrelationships...that’sjustthesurfacestuff.
“She’shappy,”Tarasaid.“Ipromise.”
“That’sgreat.”Hemeantit.
Tarasmiledathim.Thenshesuddenlyturnedherhead.
“Oh,myGod,Xander!Look!”
“Oh,myGod,Xander!Look!”
ThechainlinkfencethatsurroundedWeatherlyParkhadbeenseverelycompromised,astheysayinthemilitary.Translation:rippedtoshreds.Thesectiondirectlyinfrontofthemwasnothingbutsmallcollectionsoflinks,mosttorninhalf,lyinginscatteredpilesontheground.Thebushesbehindithadbeenshreddedtomulch.Atreehadfallenover.
InfrontofthecollapsedsectionlayRiley’spistol.
OfRiley,therewasnotrace.
Chapter7
Sunnydale
BILLYBOBMOFFITTWASACOP,THESONOFACOP,ANDthegrandsonofacop.Lawenforcement,hisdadusedtosay,raninthemenoftheMoffittfamilyassurelyasbighairandvaricoseveinsraninthewomen.BillyBobhadalwaysfoundthatsomewhatmoreamusingthaneitherhismotherorhiswifedid.He’dbeenofferedthejobaftermakingfriendswithacoupleofSunnydaleofficersatalawenforcementconvention.He’dthoughthiswifewouldbereluctanttoleaveCarthage,Tennessee,wheretheylivedinaperfectlynicesplit-levelnextdoortohisparents,forahomenearthePacific,butwhenhehadsuggestedthat,shehadsimplylookedathim,shakenherhead,andtriedtosuppressasmile.
Outofhiselevenyearsasapoliceofficer,threehadbeenbackhomeinCarthage,andtheremainingeighthadbeenhereinSunnydale.Heknew—onedidn’thavetobeontheforcelongtoknow—thatthingsinSunnydalewere,well,differentthanelsewhere.Whatwasrareinothertownswascommonplacehere;theimpossible,inSunnydale,wasmerelyunexpected.Therewerewhispers,rumors,thingspeopletalkedaboutinthelockerroomafteralongshift,orafterafewbeersatacopbarbecue,afterthefoodwasgoneandthesunwassettingandthewomenhadgoneinsidetowashdishesandgababoutwhateveritwastheyfoundinteresting.
Aboutthingsthatcameoutafterdark,thingsalesssensiblepersonmightcallmonsters.AboutthevictimsfoundoccasionallyinSunnydale’sbackalleysanddesertedlots,theirblooddrainedfromtheirbodies.Aboutayounggirlwhofaceddownthereallybadstuffandkeptitinline—though,havingbeenthefirsttoarriveatafewofthosecrimescenes,BillyBobwonderedaboutthetruthofthatrumor,becausetherewasnodenyingsomebadstuffhitSunnydalenowandagain.
Butneverhaditbeenlikethis.
Inthelasttwentyminutes,he’dseenaskitteringthing,notmorethanthreefeettall,withatleastfiftylegs,rununderneathacar—inmotion—andupendthevehicle,tossingitontoasidewalk.He’dseenatall,gauntmaninaflowingblackcoatthatlookedasifithadbeenmanufacturedinthe1800swalkby.Theman—ifhewasaman—woreatallsilkhatandcarriedacane.ThemanhadsmiledatBillyBob,revealingpreciselysharpenedteeth,andthesensationwasnotunlikehavingsomeonedropanicecubedownthebackofBillyBob’suniformshirt.
Agrocer,closinghisstore,turnedhisbacktothesidewalklongenoughtodrawdownthesecuritygatethathelockedoverhisstorewindowseachnight.HenoddedtoBillyBob,whoreturnedthenod.Butthen,infullviewofthepoliceofficer,thegauntmaninblackhadtwistedtheheadofhiscane,revealingaswordbladeconcealedinside.He’ddriventheswordthroughthegrocer’sback,puncturinghisheartandmaybealung,thenhadturnedbacktoBillyBoband,sheathinghisdrippingblade,tossedanotherofthosemalevolentgrinshisway.
BillyBobhadpulledhisweaponandshoutedatthegauntmantohalt,butthemanhadsimplygrippedhisshouldersinhisownhandsandsomehowfoldedinonhimself,untilhewasnothingmorethanapointofblackness,thennoteventhat,justgone.
BillyBobhadwatchedinopen-mouthedastonishment,notevenrememberingtosummonanambulanceforthegroceruntilthegasping,bubblingmanhaddied.Anyotherweek,BillyBobwouldhavefeltintenseremorseforthatfailure,butthisweekitwasjustonemorebody.Andafterthat,hesawashapeglidebyinthenightsky,blackagainstblack,butastheshapepassedthroughtheglowofastreetlamp,BillyBobsawthatitwasnothingmorethananoversizehuman-lookingface,thesizeofawatermelon,withwings,drippingsomekindofsalivaasitflewpast.WhenBillyBoblookedatthestreetwherethesalivahadfallen,hesawthateachdropsizzledlikeacidonthepavement.
So,whiletherehadbeenalotofbadweeksinSunnydalelawenforcementhistory,therehadneverbeenonelikethisthathecouldremember.Hewalkedthestreetsalonebecausetherehadbeensomanyemergencycalls,everypairofofficershadhadtosplituptohaveanyhopeofrespondingtoevenhalfofthem.Andtheenormityofwhathefacedoverwhelmedhim.Finally,heholsteredhisweapon,snappedtheflapoveritsbutt,andsatdownonastep,simplywatching
weapon,snappedtheflapoveritsbutt,andsatdownonastep,simplywatchingthemadnessgoby.Therewasnothingonecopcoulddo,notevenacopwhosefatherwasacopandwhosegrandfatherwasacop.
AllBillyBobcouldthinkaboutwasmovingbacktoCarthage.
Thirtybarbarianwarriors,dressedinanimalskinsandcrudelyworkedmetalornaments,ringedthecottagewhereAngelhadtakenrefugewithTan-kiaandhergrandmother,thewitch.Angelobservedthemthroughthenarrowwindows,watchingthemspreadoutacrosstherimoftheclearing.Thecottagewasasturdilyconstructedlittleplace,butitwasonlywood,andiftheyhaddiscoveredthetrickoffiringflamingarrowshere,they’dbeabletoburnitdowninnotime.Eveniftheyhadn’t,iftheyapproacheditwithwaraxestheycouldhacktheirwayin.Angelhadkilledplentyinhistime,buthe’dneversingle-handedlyfacedaforcelikethis.Foronething,theageofbarbarismhadbeenoverlongbeforehe’dbeenborn.
“Angelwon’tletusdown,”Tan-kiatoldhergrandmother.
Angelturned.Theyoungwomanstoodbehindhergrandmother’schair,strokingthewitch’slongsilverhaircomfortingly.Theoldwoman’sshoulderswereslumped,defeatapparentinherposture.“Youshouldhaveseenhimfightthoseothermen,”Tan-kiawenton.“Hewasunstoppable.”
Oh,I’mstoppable,hethought.Seeallthosearrowsandspears?Madeofwoodenshafts?Onlytakesonetostopmeonceandforall.
Buffyisintrouble,heremindedhimself.That’swheremypriorityhastobe.
Heglancedoutthewindowagain.Thesoldiersweregettingthemselvesintoposition.Inanotherfewminutes,heguessed,theattackwouldbegin,andthentheairwouldbethickwithflyingshaftsofwood.
Ifhewasgoingtodoanything,ithadtobenow.
And,asmuchashewantedtojustleave,heknewhecouldn’tdothat,couldn’tsentencethesetwowomentodeath.
“Grandmother,”hesaid,hisvoicesoft,“canyoucreateillusions?Trickstofooltheeye?”
Theoldwomanwavedonehand.“Ofcourse,”shesaid.“That’snothing.”“Thesewouldhavetobegood,”Angelcontinued.“Convincing.”
Sheshrugged.“Nothing,”sherepeated.
“Andthere’dhavetobemanyofthem.Thirtyorso.”
ShemadeeyecontactwithAngel,andhesawagleamofunderstandingthere.“Howmanywarriorsdidyousayareoutside?”
“Aboutthirty,”hesaid.
“AndpreciselywhatisitI’mtocreatetheillusionof?”
“Me,”Angelsaid.
“Icandothat.”ShebegantospeakwordsinalanguageAngeldidn’trecognize,describingintricatepatternsintheairwithherfingertips.
“Wait,”Angelsaid.“Notyet.”Heletthechangehappen,bringinghisvampiricsidetothefore.Whenhewasdone,Tan-kialetoutasmallgasp.“Now,”Angelsaid.
Thegrandmothercontinuedwithherspell.Afterafewmoments,thesmallroomwasfullofAngels,buttheyhadnophysicalsubstance.Angelpassedhishandrightthroughoneofthem.Otherswalkedthroughsolidobjects,orstoodwithfurnitureinsidethem.
“Eachofthemisashadowofyou,”thegrandmotherexplained.“Orareflection,ifyouwill.Theseshadeshavenowilloftheirown,buttofollowyourbidding.”
“Buttheycannothurtthewarriors,”Tan-kiasaid.“Sowhatgoodwilltheybe?”
“Maybetheywon’tneedtohurtthem,”Angelsaid.Heexperimented.Heraisedhisrighthandintotheair.TheotherAngelsraisedtheirrighthands.Hesteppedtohisleft.Theysteppedtotheirlefts.ToobadtheRockettesdidn’thavethiswoman,hethought.
Hewasn’ttotallycomfortablewiththisplan,butdidn’thavetimetocomeupwithanotherone.Buffywaswaiting.Hewenttothedoor,hisdoublesmimickinghismotions.“Closethedoorbehindme.Us.”
mimickinghismotions.“Closethedoorbehindme.Us.”
Withoutanotherword,hethrewthedooropenandchargedoutofit,screamingwordlessly.Behindhim,thirtyadditionalAngelsroaredoutofthedoor.Liketheoriginal,theyallranfullboreatthebarbarianwarriors.Hementallycommandedthemtospreadout,directingthematthebarbariansrangedallaroundtheclearing,anditseemedtowork.
Asheran,Angelsensedarrowsbeingnockedinbows,spearsraisedforthrowing.Hewaitedanotherhalf-second,stillrunning,untilheheardthethwipofbowstrings.Thenhelaunchedhimselfintotheair,gainingsomeheight,spinningtwiceandthencominginforalanding.Thefirstvolleyofarrowsthuddedintothegroundbeneathhim.
Aroundhim,theotherAngelshadduplicatedhismove,andevenwherearrowswerefiredhigherthantheirleapshadtakenthem,theysailedthroughtheAngeldoubleswithoutpause.
Barbariansscreamedinmortalterror.Someofthemfledtheirpositions,throwingbowsorspearstothedirt.Others,though,heldtheirline,firingagainandagain.ArrowspassedthroughtheAngelshades,someofthemflyingtowardthecottage.
Finally,Angelmetoneofthebarbarians.Themanthrewhisbowasideanddrewalong,heavysword.Angelpaused,andthewarriorfeintedtowardhim.Angeldodgedtohisleft.Thebarbarianslicedright,andthetipoftheswordnearlygrazedAngel’sstomach.Whenitwassafelypasthim,though,hemovedinfast,slamminghisleftfistintothesoldier’srightwristtodisablehisswordhand,anddrivinghisrightintotheman’schin.Thebarbariancrumpled.Angelscoopeduphisswordjustintimetoraiseitindefenseasthenearestwarriorattackedhim.Thebladesclangedtogether,vibrationstravelingthroughAngel’sshoulders.Thisbarbariandrewhisbladebackforanotherswing,andAngeltookadvantageofthemomenttothrustforwardwithhissword.Thetipofthebladeshovedthroughtheman’sleatherbreastplate.Bloodbubbledupfromhislips,andhefelltotheground.
Angel’sshadesmimickedhisactions,butwithoutthesameresults.Italmostdidn’tmatter,though—thesheerhorrorofallthesevamp-facedAngel-beingsmovingaroundandthroughthebarbarianswasenoughtosendthemrunningfortheirlives.
Thefightonlytookafewminutes.Angelhadtobestonlysixoftheminbattle,andtherestretreatedattopspeed.Angel,winded,watchedthemrun,thenstabbedtheswordintotheearthandturnedbacktothecabin.Itlookedlikeapincushion,witharrowsandafewspearsstuckintoitswoodenexteriorfromeveryangle.ThealternateAngelsfollowedhimtothecabin,untilhereachedthedoor,atwhichpointtheyallvanished.
“Thanks,guys,”hetoldtheirdisappearingforms.
Hewentinside.Tan-kiakneltonthefloor,sobbing.Inherchair,thegrandmothersatwhereAngelhadlastseenher,butnowanarrowhadpiercedherchest,stickinghertothechair’sback.Athintrailofbloodleakeddownherstomach.
“Angel...”Tan-kiasaid,hervoicecatching.
“I’mnotdead,”thegrandmotherutteredweakly.“Yet.Ihavea...fewmomentsleft.”
“I’msorry,”Angelsaid.
“Youdidwhatyou...could,”thegrandmotherassuredhim.
“Itcamethroughthewindow,”Tan-kiasaidsharply.“Ishouldhavebeenthere.Ishouldhavestoppedit.”
“Youcouldn’thave,”Angelargued.“Thenitwouldjustbeyoudyinginstead.Therewerejusttoomanyofthem.”
“Thereisno...faulthere,child,”thegrandmothermanaged.Herbreathsoundedraggedandwet.“Whatis,is.”
“But...I’llliveherealone?”Tan-kiaasked,holdinghergrandmother’shands.“Withoutyou?”
“Therewillalwaysbetracesofmehere,”theoldwomanwhispered.“And...youhavemuchtolearn.Itisyourturntoprotectthesewoods.”
“I’mtobethewitch?”
“Imeanttotellyousooner...inadifferentway.But,yes.”
“Imeanttotellyousooner...inadifferentway.But,yes.”
Tan-kialookedatAngel,somethinglikepanicinhereyes.“Isn’ttheresomething—?”
“Sorry,”Angelsaid.“I’mnodoctor.”
“Don’tworry...aboutme,”thegrandmotherdeclared.“Don’tyouhavesomewhereelsetobe?”
“Yes,”Angelsaid.“But—”
“Idon’thavestrengthenoughtodo...whatIpromised,”shereplied.
“ButTan-kiadoes.”“ButIdon’tknowhow,grandmother!”
“Doyouknowhow...howtolisten?”
“OfcourseIdo,”Tan-kiasaid.
“That’sallyouneed,then.Justlistenfast,whileIcanstill...stilltalk.”
Shebegantodescribetheprocess,andTan-kiasetaboutlearningtobeawitch,asAngelpacedthefloorofthelittlecottage.Hurry,hethought.Justgetitdone.Beforeit’stoolate.
LosAngeles
Whensomeonebeganpoundingonthedoor,Cordeliatookaquickheadcount.TheFloresfamilywasinherdiningarea,gatheredaroundhertable.Alinasatinthelivingroom,stillfiddlingwiththeRealityTracer.Willow,inthebedroom,wasinatrance.Dennishadn’tbeenseenforawhile—buthey,shethought,what’snew?
Wesleywasseatedatthediningroomtable,readingthebigredbook,andapparentlydidn’tevenhearthedoor.Theknockingcontinued.
Cordeliaheadedforthedoor.Notbadguys,cuztheydon’tusuallyknock.AndpeopleIknowwouldjustbargein,shereasoned,soit’snotafriendorsomeoneIowemoneyto.Andit’snotsomeonewhoowesmemoney,because,sadly,those
don’texist.
Sheopenedthedoor.
Astrangeyoungmanstoodthere,completelyhairless,inateeshirtandbaggyblackpantsandbigsneakers.
“Ineedtofindher,”hesaid,forcinghiswayinpastCordelia.
“Excuseme?Findwho?”Shefeltaggravationatthewaythisguyjustwalkedin,butsomethinginhisdemeanor—well,thatandthefranklykindofscarywayhelooked—madehernotwanttoarguewithhim.
“Mysister.Ineedtogoafterher.”Thelookinhiseyeswasblank,likealost—orsearching—child.
“Andthatsisterwouldbe...?Havewemet?”Cordeliaasked.“Because,youknow,lookingatyou,Ithinkthat’dbesomethingI’dremember.”
“Salma,”hesaidangrily,asifhisincoherencewereCordelia’sfault.“Mysister.”
“You’rethebrother?”Cordeliaaskedincredulously.SheturnedtoAlina,whowatchedfromthesofa.“Hey,IfoundNicky!”shecalled.
“Hewasalreadyfound,”Alinapointedout.
“GoodLord,”Wesleysaid,snappingthebookshutandlookingup.Hepushedbackhischair.“You’reNickydelaNatividad?”
Cordeliaraisedherchin.“Istillgetcredit.Ifoundhimagain.”
“It’sSalmawho’smissing,”Nickysaid.“Shewentsomewhereelse.Mygrandmothersaidyoucouldsendmethrough.”
“Oh,right,”Cordeliaagreedsarcastically.“Youdoknowshespentalotoftimeandenergylookingforyou,right?Soifyougoofflookingforher,andthenyougetlostandshegetsfound,thenwe’rerightbackwherewestartedfrom,whichdoesn’treallydoanybodymuchgood.”
“Ineedtofindher,”heinsisted.
“Ineedtofindher,”heinsisted.
CordelialookedfromNickytoWesleytoAlinaandbackagain.Alinahadthemachineinpiecesonthetable.“Alina,couldyouevensendhim?”
“Notjustnow,”Alinasaidfrankly.“Maybelater,ifIcangetthisworkingright.ButI’mnoengineer.”
“Andifwehadatraintodrive,that’dbeaproblem,”Cordeliasaid.“Butcanyoufixit?”
Alinasighed.“Idon’tknow.”
“Plus,myconcernaboutthecurrentsmayholdsomeadditionalproblems,”Wesleyadded.“ThismaybesomethingnoteventheVishnikoffsknowabout.”
CordeliasmiledatNicky.“There’syouranswer.Sorry,maybelater.”Shestartedtowardthedoor,toopenitandlethimout.Instead,hecamefartherinsideandploppeddownonthecouch,armsfoldedacrosshischest,hismouthaflatline.
“I’llwait,”hedeclared.
“Wehavecoffee,”Wesleysaid.“Cordelia?”
“Notaproblem,”shesaid,grittingherteeth.
ThecastlelookedtoBuffylikesomethingoutofastorybook,ifstorybookswerewrittenbydementedhomicidalmaniacs.Itwasbuiltofheavygraystone,butthewallsweregrownoverwithmossesandlichens,whichgaveitanunhealthy,greenishtinge.Soaringtoheightsofthirtyorfortyfeet,thewallswerebrokenhereandtherebynarrowslitsofwindow,perfectforshootingarrowsorpouringboilingoil.Asiftoconfirmthatimpression,shenoticedthatthewallsbeneathsomeoftheslitswerestainedadarkercolorthantherestofthestone,andnomossgrewonthestains.Thetopsofthewallswerecrenellated,brokeneveryfiftyfeetorsobytowersthatspikedtowardthesky.Someofthesepeak-roofedtowershadbalconiesorlargerwindows,anditwasinoneofthesethatBuffyhadseenthe“princess”shewassupposedlyheretorescue.
Accordingtoadyingdragon-guy-thing,anyway.
Theruttedroadwayshehadtakenhereledstraighttoagateway,butaportcullisandheavydoubledoors,eachadozenfeetacross,blockedtheway.The
andheavydoubledoors,eachadozenfeetacross,blockedtheway.Theportculliswasstoppedafootorsoofftheground,sothatBuffycouldhavescootedbeneathitifshe’dneededto.Butitsironbarsendedinrazorsharppoints,likeenormousteeth,andshehadnodesiretoriskit.Afewfeetalongthewallfromthebiggate,though,therewasasmallerdoor,darkwoodwithrustedmetalstrapsacrossitatthetopandbottomandanancientmetalknob.
Pedestrianaccess.
Sheapproachedthedoor.Aknockeradornedit,intheshapeofademon’shornedhead,withglowingredeyes.AtfirstBuffythoughttheeyeswerejeweled,butwhenshelookedmoreclosely,shecouldn’tseefacetsofanykind—theylookedvaguelyliquid,burningwithilluminationfromwithin.
Shecouldn’tforcethethoughtaway.Theylookalive.
Knockingdidn’tseemlikeagoodideaanyway.Ifwhoever—orwhatever—livedheredidn’talreadyknowshehadcome,announcingherselfmadenosense.Bettertoletherselfinifshecould,trytofindthatbacktowerfromtheinside,savethegirlandgetout.
ShewishedthereweresomecontactfromWillow,orAlina.Thiswasherfirstrescueandshewasn’tsurewhattodooncesheaccomplishedit.
AndAngel,thethoughtcametoher.What’shappenedtohim?
Tryingnottolookatthedemonicknocker,Buffypushedopenthedoor.Itswungineasily,thoughwithamoanthatcouldhavecomedirectlyfromtheUniversalStudiossoundeffectslibrary.Somuchfortheelementofsurprise,shethought.Betterthananyburglaralarm.
Shestoodstillforafewmoments,listeningtoseeifthecreakingdoorstirredupanyactivityfrominside.Satisfiedthatithadn’t,sheleftthedoorajarandwentin.
Thedooropenedintoacourtyard,thesameplacethatthebiggategaveaccessto.Therewasroomforafewwagonsandhorses,oracoupleofdozencars,sheguessed.Itdidn’tlooklikeithadseenmuchtrafficlately,though.Thecobbledcourtyardhadweedsgrowingupthroughthestones,silverinthemoonlight.Inonecorner,awoodenplatformofsomekindhadrottedandfalleninonitself.Buffycouldn’tmakeoutitsfunction,butcouldn’thelpthinkingitlookedlikea
Buffycouldn’tmakeoutitsfunction,butcouldn’thelpthinkingitlookedlikeagallowsoraguillotine.
Suchacheeryplace,shethought.NeedingthatMarthaStewarttouch.
Acrossthecourtyardasetofstairsleduptoanotherdoor.Thisone,tallandnarrow,mustbethedoortothecastle’sinsides,shethought.Theonlyotherwayoutofthecourtyardwasuprough-hewnstonestepsthatledtobattlementsalongthecastle’souterwalls—defensivepositions,sheguessed.Leftwithoutalotofoptions,Buffycrossedthecourtyard,walkingwithdeterminedpurpose,nottryingtohideherself.Sheclimbedthestepstothebigdoorandtriedit.Thisonealsoopenedeasily,thoughmorequietly.Shewentinside.
Awarm,welcomingglowmetherasshecrossedthethreshold;aglowemanatingfromseveraldozenburningcandles.ShepushedthedoorclosedandinvestigatedtheGreatHallinwhichshefoundherself.Thewelcomingpartofthecandle’sglowvanishedwhensherealizedthatintheshadowsbeneaththecandles,theirholderswerewall-mountedskulls—manyofwhichlookedhuman.Otherswereclearlyanimal,butnotanimalswithwhichBuffywasfamiliar.Thecandlesthemselveswerefatandgreasy,fillingtheHallwithunpleasantodors.
Someone,certainly,hadlitthecandles.Butshecouldseenoothersignofhabitation.IntheupperreachesoftheHall,cobwebshungthickasclouds.Thefloorwascoveredwithalayerofdust.
TherewerethreewaysoutoftheHall—agrandstaircasethatledupintodarkness,andtwodoors,onetotheleftandonetotheright.Noneofthechoiceslookedanymorepromisingthananyother.Thestairsmightmakesense,sinceBuffyknewshehadtogetuptothetoweratsomepoint.Butwhatiftheyledtoasecondlevelhere,andthetowercouldonlybeaccessedfromthegroundlevel?Itmightbebetter,shedecided,totrytofindthetower’sbasefirst,andthenfigureouthowtogetup.
Fromthemainentrance,thetowerinwhichshehadseenthegirlwasontherearrightcorner,soshepickedthedoortoherright.Itstuckalittle,butsheshovedanditopenedforher.Morecandlesilluminatedadininghall,withavasttable,emptyexceptforthreecandelabrasspacedabouteightfeetapart,ringedbydozensofheavychairs.Thefurniturewasallwood,blockyandcumbersomelooking.Tapestrieshungonthewalls,depictingscenesofcreaturesthatwerenotfamiliar—whitefish-facedthingswithsixlegs,bearlikebeastsrearingupon
familiar—whitefish-facedthingswithsixlegs,bearlikebeastsrearingupontwolegs,butwithfacesthatresembledbig-eyedaliensmorethanbears,andvariousotherarrangementsofbodyparts.Buffycouldeasilyhavespentmoretimeexploringthisoneroom,butshewantedtogettothegirlandgetoutofhereasquicklyasshecould.Shecontinuedthroughthedininghalltoanotherdooronthefarend.
Thisdoorledintoakitchenarea—acreafteracreofcounterspace,sevenbigstoneovens;andofftooneside,chunksofmeat,biggerthananydeadcowBuffyhadeverseen,hangingfromhooksinanalcove.Thestenchoftheoldmeatoverpoweredthenastysmellofthecandleshere,soBuffyhurriedthroughthekitchenandoutanotherdoor.
Shefoundherselfinsideatinyroomwithonlyonecandleburninginit,mountedonanotherskull-sconceonthewall.Otherthanthecandle,itcontainedonlydustandcobwebs—andnootherdoors.Wrongturn—theremusthavebeenanotherdooroutofthekitchen,shethought.Shewentbackthroughthedoorshe’dcomein.
Buttherewasnokitchenontheotherside.Shewasinalonghallway,linedwithsuitsofspiderwebbedarmorandtriangular-shapedwallhangings.HerfirstthoughtwasoftheBlackKnightshehaddefeated.Thesesuitsofarmordidn’tcomeather,though,soshecautiouslywalkedbetweenthem,downthehall.Therewasadoorbetweeneverysuitofarmor,andshehadnocluewhereanyofthemled.Shefoundherselfgrowingconcerned.
Becausethishallshouldn’tbehereatall,sheknew.Iwentfromakitchenintothelittleroom,thenwentbackthroughthedoorsecondslater.Sothisshouldbeakitchen,whichitsodefinitelyisnot.
Feelingmajorlycreepedout,shewentfromdoortodoor,hesitatingaboutopeninganyofthemforfearthatthey’djustleadto...well,shedidn’tknow.Shefinallyfiguredthatshejustneededtopickoneandtryit.Sheputherhandontheknobofthefirstone—andfroze.
Fromtheothersidecameascratching,skitteringsound.
Sherememberedherdream,theoneshe’dhadwhereshe’dopeneddoorafterdoortofindnoonethere.Ithadbeenoneoftheirearliestcluestotheexistenceofthealternities.ThedreamsofSlayerswerelikethat;sometimesprophetic.
SoifIopenthedoor...
Theskitteringgotlouder,asifsomethingreally,reallyhopedshewould.
Chapter8
LosAngeles
CASACORDELIA:AMADHOUSE,AMADHOUSE.CORDELIAthoughtitwasamazinghowmuchactivitythereseemedtobeinherapartment,yetinreality,theFloresfamilyhaddecidedtotakeanap,andeveryoneelsewassittingaroundherkitchentable,freakingout,staringatWesleyasifhehadjustinventedthecontraptionpressedtohisear.Exceptforthenewboy,Nicky,whowasoffpacingupanddownherhalllikeabullattheruninPamplona.
“Isee.AnddidGilessayanythingaboutmytheorybeforeheranofftohelpRiley?”Wesleyaskedascalmlyashecould.“Oh,thathewouldhavethoughtofitfirsthadheknownaboutthephenomenon.Typical.”Helookedhuffy.“No,no.Canyoutellmeifyou’vefoundanythingintheresearchbooks?”
I’mthinkingnada,Cordeliathought,andAlinalookedatherblankly.“‘Nada’isSpanishfor‘nothing,’”shesaidaloud.
“NoTara?”Willowaskedsoftly.
Wesleyheldupahand.“Nowthat’sinteresting,”hesaid,nodding.“That’sveryinterestingindeed.Thankyou.Yes,pleasehaveGilescallthemomenthegetsin.Thankyouagain.”
Hehungup,lookingpleased.“Wemaybegettingsomewhere.ItappearsthatBuffy’smotherhascontinuedreadingwhiletheotherswentinsearchofRileyFinn.She’scomeacrosssomeinformationthatsuggeststhatentropycurrentsmayactuallybecaused,orenhanced,whenanindividual’srealityisshiftedorchanged.”
“Orenhanced?”Willowasked,thenappeareduncomfortable.Shewasseated
“Orenhanced?”Willowasked,thenappeareduncomfortable.ShewasseatednexttoAlinaatthekitchentable.TheRealityTracerlayinpiecesallaroundthem.“Sayingnotoenhancedreality.Soundinglikedruggietalk.”
“Yousee,themachinethatAlina’sparentscreated—theRealityTracer—actuallycreatesasortofentropycurrent,inconjunctionwithAlina’sownabilitytoprojectachangeinreality.Ifapersonhashadatruerealityshift,theymaybeabletomovewithinalternitiesevenifthey’renotcompletelyproperly‘beamed,’asitwere,bythemachine.”
“SoundsStar-Trekian,”Cordeliasaid.
“WesleyCrusher,”Willowadded,grinningfaintly.
“Hecrushes?”Alinaaskeduncertainly.
“Pop-culturereference.”WillowpickedupthemainchassisoftheRealityTracerwithbothhandsandexaminedit.“IfthisreallywasStarTrek,we’dhavethispuppyfixedinforty-eightminutes.Less,ifyouaccountforthefactthattheyusuallyintroducetheprobleminthesecondact.”
“Hello,reallife,andyou’vebeentryingtofixitforalotlongerthanforty-eightminutes,andyouknow,thisthingreallydoeslooklikeacheesymovieprop.”CordeliaglancedoverWillow’sshoulder.“It’sarealmess,isn’tit.Howcomeyourparentsnever,youknow,madeanextraoneorgotnicerpartsorsomething?”
“Someofthecomponentswerehandmade,”Alinasaid,“bypeoplewhoaredeadnow.Wewouldhavetodisassembleittore-createit.Inthenewworldorder,wewouldbeabletoproduceasmanyasweliked.”
“Inadazzlingarrayofexcitingdecoratorcolors,”Cordeliasaidwaspishly.
“So,sendmethrough,then,”Nickysaidashecameintothekitchen.TherefrigeratordooropenedandPhantomDennisofferedNickyaCorona.Nickywaveditawaywithanimpatientsneer.
“Look,Ithinkthetheoryisinteresting,butIhaven’tbeenabletodiscussitwithmycolleaguedirectly,”Wesleysaid.
NickylaunchedintoastringofexcitingMexicanswearwords,someofwhich
NickylaunchedintoastringofexcitingMexicanswearwords,someofwhichCordeliaevenknewhowtospell.Hesaidangrily,“Look,Iheardwhatyousaid.Ialteredmyreality,okay?ImademyselfinvinciblewiththeNightoftheLongKnives.Icangothrough!”
“Wearen’tsureofanything.Wedon’tknowwhatwillhappenifwetryitwiththebrokenTracer.Mybestconjectureisthatsomegoodwassuckedoutofthisworld,orevilwasreleasedbyanalternity,andwehavenoknowledgehowthataffectsanything.We’restillworkingoutourpremise.”
“ThisiswhatIamwondering,”Alinasaid.“Whataboutpeoplewhoarenotpreciselyofthisreality?IamthinkingofyourSlayerandhervampirelover.”
“AndSpike,whoreallylousedthingsup,”Willowsaid.
Alinalookedthoughtful.“Perhapshelousedthethingsupbecauseheistooclosetothisreality.Theothervampire,theoneBuffyloves,heisunique,youtoldme.Hehasasoul.Noothervampirehasasoul.”
“Only,Buffydoesn’tlovehim,”Willowsaidquickly.“ShelovesRiley.Alot.”Shenodded.“Awholelot.”
“Itcouldbethatinsteadofentropycurrents,wearedealingwithsomethinglike...uncertaintyfields,”Wesleymused.“Sincethey’renotentirelyofthisreality,thefieldofuncertaintyaroundthemprotectsthem.”
“Well,”Willowsaidslowly,“I’mawitch.Iprobablyhaveanuncertaintyfield.MaybeIcangothrough.”Shemadeaface.“Notlovingthatidea,butIcould.Not...loveit,Imean.Icouldgo.”
Wesleycrossedhisarmsoverhischest.“Weneedyouhere,tohelpwiththemachine.”
“Porqué?”Nickybarked.“She’snothelpingwithit.Noneofyouarehelpingwithit.Youdon’tknowwhatthehellyou’redoing!”Heslammedhishanddownonthekitchentable.Willowstartled,nearlydroppingtheTracer.“Youshouldn’thaveplayedwithfire,Alina!”
“Oh,butit’sallrightforyoutosetoilfieldsonfire,huh?”Cordeliasnappedathim.“Domagickfromrecipesyouhadtostealfromyourowngrandmother?”
“Spells,”Willowmurmured,“notrecipes.”
“Spells,”Willowmurmured,“notrecipes.”
“Whatever.”SheglaredatWesley.“Isaywegiveitatry.We’renotgettinganywhere,andallourreallyunreal-realitysuperherotypesareinOzorwherever,andifhegetsgroundupintotacomeat,Isay,‘Sorry,youwerewarned.’”
“Thatisracist,”Nickysaidthroughgrittedteeth.
“Tacomeat?Getoverit,”Cordeliasaid.“Icouldhavejustaseasilysaid‘Hungariangoulash.’”
“Ghoul-ash,”Wesleysaid,smilingfaintly.“That’sactuallyratherclever,Cordelia.”
“Thankyou.”ShepointedtotheTracer.“They’vejiggledthingsaroundforever.Foralltheyknow,theycouldputthosepiecesbackinanditcouldbeevenbetterthannew.Solet’sletGuineaPigBoyhaveatry.”
“Allhewantstodoisfindhissister,”Alinasniffed.“Hedoesn’tcareaboutanyoneelse.”
Wow,somepersonalityemerges,Cordeliathought,thenrememberedthatAlinacouldreadhermind.Well,youhaven’treallyhadmuchofone,sheadded.Nooffense.
“Familyloyalty,imaginethat,”Nickyflungather.“AllyoupeoplehaveisPartyloyalty.”
AlinalookedpointedlyatthegangtattooonNicky’shandandsnickered.
“Letmego,”NickysaidtoWesley.“I’mreadytogo.”
“Ican’tpermitit.You’rejusthuman,afterall,”hesaidtoNicky.“Theotherswere...others.Morethanhuman.”
“InSpike’scase,subhuman,”Cordeliaadded.
“Well,whoelsedoyouhavewhoislikethat?”Alinaasked.“Youhavemanysurprisingindividualshere.Istherenotmorethanonevampirewithsoul?MorethanoneSlayer?”
TheanswercametoWesleyandCordeliaatpreciselythesametime.
“Oh,myGod,”Cordeliamurmured.“Yes,thereis.”ShelookedatWesley,whoraisedhischin.Hiseyesgrewcoldandhard.
“Yes,you’requiteright,Cordelia.Indeedthereis.”
Cordeliaexhaled.ShethoughtoftheSlayerwhohadtorturedWesleyforhours.TheoneWolframandHarthadhiredtokillAngel.Theonewhowastryingtofindherwaybackintothelight.
Theoneshedidnottrustatall.
“Oh,boy,”shemuttered.
Alinafrownedather.“Whathasfaithtodowithit?Religionisforthemasses.”
“Prayingwouldn’tbeabadidearightnow,”Cordeliasaidaloud.
Inthemiddleoftheprisonwasabarrensquareofcrab-grassreferredtobythe“CorrectionalFacilityAdministrator”as“theCommons.”Intheoldmovies,“thewarden”calledit“theyard.”
FaiththeVampireSlayercalledtheCFA“thebitch”andthearea“thefield.”Thereweresomedandelionsinit,andacoupleofpatchesofwilddaisies;itwastheclosestthingshehadtothedreamsshehadhadoftheMayorandher,picnicking,whenshewasinthecoma.Thosedreamsstartedoutsonice...
...andlikemostdreams,endedverybadly.
Iputmyselfhereonpurpose,sheremindedherself,atleastahundredtimesaday.I’mafterredemption,sameasAngel.
ButforFaith,shehadthoughtthatwouldmeanbeingabletosinkintoinvisibility.Justbecomeananonymousnumber,confined(notreally)tosomesmallspacewithplentyoftimetopulluptheweeds,onebyone.Sometimesshewantedtograbthembythehandfulandyank,butyoudidn’tgetthemallthatway.No,youhadtodoitoneatatime.
“Yo,Faith,youneedanything?”askedShirlasFaithwalkedpasther.Itwasaquestionshewouldansweratleastadozentimesbefore“theexerciseperiod”
questionshewouldansweratleastadozentimesbefore“theexerciseperiod”wasover.LotsofherfellowbabesbehindbarswantedtobefriendswithFaith.Shewasstrongandbraveandshedidn’ttakeanycrap.
Itwasdifficulttomaintainone’sanonymitywheneverybodywantedtofacedownthenewestgunslingertostrideintotown.ButwordgotaroundasfastasrichwhitegirlsgotparolethatFaithwasthebitchtobeatifyouwantedtoruletheblock.Soeachnewbadgirl,eagertooutbadeverybodyelse,tookFaithon.Shedidn’tgiveasgoodasshecould;she’dkillmostofheropponents.Sosheheldbackanawfullot;sometimessheletthembeatthecrapoutofherjustbecauseitwastoomuchworktododgethem.
“Yo,Faith.”CarrieGrimessteppeduptoFaith.Herfacewasanoverripeplumandherlipsweresplit.Oneeyewasswollenshut.
“Who?”Faithasked.Never“why?”Never“how?”Itdidn’tmatter.CarriewasoneofFaith’sown.
“JuliaSwank.”Carrie’ssplitlipstartedtobleed.“Andall’syoucanseeismyface,Faith,butshebeatmeblack-and-blueallover.”
Faithcastasteelygazeacrossthefieldtothenortheastquadrant.ThatwaswhereJuliaheldcourt.Shewasathree-striker,andshehadnohopeofparole.Shedidn’tmindsolitary—thewardenhadgivenheraprivatecellofherown,andsheseemedtohavealotofleewayinwhenshehadtostayinit.Butshehadahellofalottoloseifshelostrespectamonghergirls—likemaybeevenherlife.
Faithreflectedtiredlyonhowstupiditallwas,andrememberedhowstupidshehadbeenbeforeAngelmadehersoulcrackopenandalltheinfectionstartedpouringout.ThoughshekeptstaringatJulia,togiveherthemessagethatshe,Faith,knewwhatshe’dbeenuptoandthatshewasn’tabouttolethergofreeoverit,hermindtraveleddownotherroads:totherage,andthepain,andthegriefshehadcausedforothers;andinsodoing,hadbroughtthesethingsdownuponherownhead.
ShethoughtaboutwhatAngelhadsaidtoher:Feelingisgood,evenwhenithurts.
Ithurtalmostallthetime.
JuliamusthavefeltFaith’sgazeonher—hadprobablybeenwaitingforit—andturnedherheadtolookatherenemy.Juliahadoncebeenverybeautiful—stillwas,fromtherightangles—butherstepfatherhadtakencareofthat.Faithdidn’tknowtheparticulars—inprison,therewerewaytoomanyparticularstokeeptrackof,andsometimestheychangedovertime.FaithwasfairlycertainithadbeenJulia’sstepbrotherwhohaddeformedherwhenJuliahadjoinedtheblock.
Anyway,itdidn’tmatter.Thebitternessandtherageweretheparticularsthatdidn’tchange.Juliawasjustthefacetheywerewearingtoday.
“Shebeatme,Faith,shebeatme,”Carriesputtered,blooddropletsformingonherlowerlip.Itwastheuniversalcommand:Giveherpayback.
Theweirdthingwas,Faithusedtowonderwhatthishellholehadtodowithredemption.Howvoluntarilysubmittingtoincarcerationwithenraged,hostilewomenwasgonnamakeherbetter.Butseeingthefurythatpowerlessnesscaused,shegotit:shehadgonesobadandsocrazybecauseshefeltpowerless;powerlesstobegood,powerlesstosaveherWatcher,powerlesstobeloved,likeBuffy.Addanuglychildhoodandyouwoundupinplaceslikethiswithbloodonyourhandsandshadowsinyourcheeks.
I’mgonnalooklikeI’mahundredandtwobythetimeIgetoutofhere,shethoughtdully.
Shestartedacrossthefield.Julia’slipspartedinafaintsmile.Shewasjonesingontheactiontocome.
AsFaithapproached,alineofhard-facedwomen,theminions,Faithcalledthem,tookuptheirstationsbetweentheinterloperandtheirleader.Faithjustsneeredatthemandkeptwalkinginastraightline,forcingthetwointhecentertodropback.Julialookedmildlydisgusted,buttooktwogiantstepsforwardandcockedherhead.
“Thismyterritory,”sheproclaimed.
“Andthatcertainlyissomethingtobeproudof,”Faithshotback.“Myfriendishurt.”
“Honey,yousouglyyoudon’tgotfriends,”Juliasaid.HerJuliettescackled.
Thisissolame,Faiththought.I’msogladAngel’snothere.
“Payback,”shesaid.
“Righthere?”Juliareplied.“InfrontofGodandeverybody?”
“No.Inmyowngoodtime.Maybeyou’llseemecoming.”
Faithturnedonherheelandcrackedherknuckles.
Sunnydale
Anyasaidwhateveryoneelsewasthinking:“SomethingateRiley.”
Xandershookhishead,“Noway.”
“Idon’tbelieveit,”Gilesinsisted.“Riley’saverycapablesoldier.”
Taramovedfromthegroupandwalkedtothedestroyedfence.Shebentdownandsaid,“Look.Whateverwashereleftatrail.”
Anyajoinedher.Gileslookedatthetwo,headsearnestlybowed,andfeltamomentoffear.They’reallsoverydifferentfromoneanother,hethought,exceptthattheycanbekilled.AndIcouldn’tbearit.Ican’tevenimaginemySlayeractuallydying.
Hecameforward,joiningthegroupcrouch,atwhichpointashudderingroarsplittheairandmadeeveryonecryoutinsurprise.Therewasanotherroar,andthenagunshot.
“Whichway?”Anyacried.“Whichwayshouldwego?”
“Thetraildoublesback,”Gilessaid,pointing.“Itappearsthatwhateveradvanced,doubledbackandretreated.It’ssomewhereinthepark.”
“Riley?”XanderbellowedasherantoGilesandthegirls.
Therewasanothergunshot.
Thefourracedpastthepilesofvegetation,leapingacrosslong,gapinggullies
Thefourracedpastthepilesofvegetation,leapingacrosslong,gapinggulliesthatappearedtohavebeenlaseredintotheground,theconcavesurfacesofthedepressionsshinyandglassy.
Causedbyintenseheat,Gilessurmised.PerhapsaLindworm.Haven’tseenoneofthosesinceweworkedwiththeGatekeeper...
“Getaway,”Gilesshoutedatthem,astheybothtauntedthecreaturewiththeirweaponry.“ForGod’ssake,go!”
Thenanothergunshotechoedthroughthepark,andthewormcollapsed.Ittwitched,shrieking,thenmewledlikeakitten,thenmadeabsolutelynosoundatall.
TherewasabunchofrustlingassomeoftheoverturnedtreebranchesgotthrownoutofthewayandRileyemerged,coveredwithmudandbloodystripes.Helookedterriblebuthehadallthemainparts.
Hesaid,“Run.”
“Butyoushotit,”Xanderpointedout,asherolledbackoffGiles.“Andnowwe’reallsafe,right?Andman,youmustcarrylotsofguns.”
“Atleasttwo.”Rileyshookhishead.“Theworm’snottheproblem.Theproblemisthisotherthing.ThatIwashidingfrom,beforeIhadtosaveyouguys.”
Asifoncue,anenormous,blackmassrearedup,toweringoverGiles,Riley,andXander.Everyonescatteredbackward,withRileyputtinghimselfbetweentheothersandtheshadowmonster.
ThenTarayelledtoRiley,“I-Icanmakeitsolid.Likebefore.”
“Go,”Rileysaid,nevertakinghiseyesoffthelarge,blackform.
AsGileslookedon,sheperformedanincantation.Thethingappearedtobepulleddownbygravity,andasitsmovementsbecamemorelabored,Rileybegantoshootit.Gilesletlooseacrossbowbolt,andXanderheftedhismace.
ThenitwhippedoutsomesectionofitselfandgrabbedRileyaroundtheleftleg.Itbegansuckinghimtowarditself,andGileshadafleeting,awfulmemoryofwhatCherycehadlookedlikeafteranencounterwithoneofthesethings.
whatCherycehadlookedlikeafteranencounterwithoneofthesethings.
“Ohhhh,crap!”Xanderyelled,ashedashedforwardandbeganpummelingthecreaturewiththemace.Gilesshotitagain.Rileyfoughttogetloose,kickingwithhisrightleg,poundingwithbothfistsasXandercontinuedtocompressthatportionofthesolidifiedshadowintoshadowlite.Togethertheykeptworkingonthepieceuntilitbegantotatterandseparatefromtherestofthecreature.
ThenafreshsectionglommedontoXanderandslitheredaroundhiswaist.Xandershoutedanddroppedhiscrossbow.Riley,kickingfree,pickeditupandslammeditintothebandsconstrictingXander’shipsandtorso.Gilesgotoffanothershot,andXanderwasfreedasthepieceofthemonsterreleasedhim.
Then,justasitappearedthattheyhadthemonsteronthedefense,itgrewhigher.Shadowuponshadowshotintotheskyandbegantocrestoverlikeanenormoustidalwave.Withinseconds,itwouldeasilyengulfthemall.
Gilesclosedhiseyes.Fromsomewheredeepinsidehimself,hefeltasurgeofpower.Hecouldseeitinhismind;itwasascintillatingblue,allsimmeringandfilledwithmagick.
“BythepowerofHecateandtheGoddess,Idemandthatyoureturnwhenceyoucame!”heshouted.
Thecreatureroaredandbegantotumbleoverintoanarch,itsmassdwarfingXander,Riley,Tara,andAnya,astheytriedtoscrambleoutofitsreach.
“Iorderyourreturn!”Gilesthundered.
Itfuriouslytwisteditswoundedbody.
Thenagoldensemicirclepoppedintotheair,begantoglow,andthethingwasliterallysuckedintoit.Likeapowerfulvacuum,itwasdraggedin,bitbybit,untilitwascompletelyswallowedup.
Theportaldisappeared.
“Wow,”Xandersaid,blinkingatGiles.
“Thatwasdefinitelyashadowmonster,”Anyaannounced.“Theyeatmagickalresidue.”Shelookedattheothers.
“Residue?”Xanderechoed,confused.
“Somemagicksthrowoffalotofenergy.Somearenegative,somearepositive.”AnyasmiledatXander.“That’swhytheywork.Forexample,alovespellthrowsoffwonderfulsensationsoflustanddesire,and—”
“Wewerecheckingoutpsi-residueparticlesattheInitiative,”Rileysaid,wipingthebloodoffhisface.“ItwasapetprojectofDr.Ping’s.”
“Thatmonster,thatshadowcreature,wasdrawnherebecausesomeone’sperformedpowerfulmagick,”Anyaexplained.“SomeonehereinSunnydale,I’mguessing.”
“Us?”Taraasked.“M-me?”
“Idon’tthinkso,”Anyasaid.“Otherwise,theywouldhaveshownupherebefore.Thisissomethingdifferent.Someonedidsomethingthathasn’tbeenaroundherebefore,I’mguessing.”
“I’mgoingtoLosAngeles,”Rileysaid.
“Why?”Taraasked,unmistakabledismayinhervoice.“IthinkIknowwhatbroughtthosemonstersthrough,”Rileysaid.“Ithinkit’sthatgirl’sbrother.I’mgoingtomakesurehedoesn’tdoitagain.”
“That’snotwhy,”Xandersaid,lookingsteadilyathim.“Can’tstandit,canyou?Allthosemachoprotectiveurgescomingoveryou.Hey,man,chill.She’stheSlayer.She’llbeokay.”
RileylookedjustassteadilybackatXander.
“Riley,”Gilessaid,notunkindly,“Xander’sright.Weneedyouhere.We’vegotmoretodealwiththanwecanhandle.”
Thesoldierwavered,andGilesknewhehadhim.Rileywouldstay.Hewouldn’tletciviliansgounprotected.
Buthedidn’thavetolikeit,andRileyclearlydidn’t;hewassilentduringtherestofthewaybacktoGiles’sapartment.Hisshoulderswerehunched,hisjawsetandhard.
Hereallylovesher,Gilesthought.Itmustbedifficultforhim,knowingthatAngel’sjoiningupwithherontheothersideofreality...hopefully,anyway.
“Hi,”JoyceSummerssaidfromthedoorway,asthefivetrudgedwearilypastthefountaininthecourtyardofGiles’sbuilding.“Wesleycalled.TheywantRileytogotoLosAngeles.”
“What?”Gilesasked,startled.“Why?”
Joycelookedequallyillatease.“TheywanthimtohelpbreakFaithoutofjail.”
They’regainingonme,Salmathought.
Thesoldiersontheirterrifyinghorselikebeaststhunderedafterher.Shecouldn’ttelliftheywerehuntingherdownforsportorbecausesherepresentedsomekindofthreat.Eitherway,shewastheirquarry,andasshepantedandstumbledoverrocksandtreeroots,shedidn’thavemuchchanceofeludingthem.
Whatwilltheydotome?WhyamIhere?
Mad,giddylaughternearlyburbledoutofher,butshestillhadherwitsabouther.Shehadtokeepfocused,keepaheadofthem.
It’salwayssoeasyinthemoviesoronTV.Theheroalwaysfindsanalleyoralittlecaveorsomething.
Therewasnothingherebuttreesandgrass.Incredibly,birdsweresingingandshesawsomethingthatlookedlikearabbitdartacrossherpath.Itwasallsonormal,andyetsobizarre,thatagain,shehadtosuppresstheurgetolaugh.
Thestandsoftreesweredenseandthickwithfoliage;shewhippedthroughtheundergrowth,barelystoppingtopushbranchesoutofherwayasshecaromedbackandforth,bashingintotrunksandoutlyinglimbslikeabrand-newskieronabunnyslope.Adrenalineandterrormadeherclumsyandunabletoslowdown;shewasmindlessassheforgedahead,losingtrackofeveryconsciousthought.Hersurvivalinstincthadcompletelytakenover.
Run,run,run.
Itbarelyoccurredtoherthatshewasflyingthroughtotaldarknessnow.Shedidn’tcare.Shecouldhearthehoovesofthefantasticalbeasts.Hearthe
didn’tcare.Shecouldhearthehoovesofthefantasticalbeasts.Hearthetrumpets...
Thetrumpets...
Salmastumbled.Shewasonanincline;shedroppedtothegroundandrolled,movingswiftly,tastingthemudanddeadleavesinhermouthandhernose.Shemadeherselfrollfaster,faster...
Thetrumpets...
Theinclinedroppedandbecameacliff;shecoveredhermouthwithbothhandsasshesailedovertheedge,unabletoseeasinglethingaroundherItseemedshefellforhours,keepingherselffromscreaming;shehadenoughtimetothinkaboutherparents,andherabuelita,DoñaPilar,andNicky
Iloveyouall
Whenshelanded,sheblackedout.Perhapsforamoment,perhapsforaweek.
Shewokeupindarkness.
Andinstillness.
Silence.
Foramoment,shethoughtshewasalone.
Butthenshesawthesoldiers,bearingdownonher...
Chapter9
HERHANDONTHEDOORKNOB,BUFFYPAUSEDANDlistenedtothesoundsfromtheotherside.Somethingwasoverthere,tryingtogettothesideshewason,inthebighallway.Shedidn’tknowwhatitwas,butsheknewshedidn’twanttoletitout.Shereleasedtheknobandbackedaway.
Andthedoorrattled,thenbulgedtowardher.
Shefelttherushofadrenalinethataccompaniedslayagecoursethroughherveins.Hersenseswereinstantlysharpened,mindalert,bodypoisedforaction.Fightorflight,itwascalled,whenthebodypreparesitself,inatimeofcrisis,foroneortheother.
Flightseemedlikethebestcourseofactionhere,nothavinganyideawhatwasoverthere,orevenifitwasafoe.Buttocomplicatethings,shedidn’tknowwheretorun—therewereatleasttwentydoorsoffthishallway,andshedidn’tknowwhereanyofthemled—and,asshehadlearned,wheretheyledoneminutedidn’tnecessarilyindicatewherethey’dleadthenext.Thecastlewasagiantmazethatcheatedbychangingtherulesasitwent.
Finally,thedoorburstopen,andBuffy’smindwasmadeup.
Theylookedlikerats—long,twitchingsnouts,dirtybrownishfur,pinkhairlesstails,fourlegstippedwithlittleclawsthatmadethatskitterynoiseshe’dheardontheflagstonefloors—buttheywerethesizeofspaniels,andthereweredozensofthem.
Theyzeroedinonherlikeshewasmadeofcheese.
Definitelyflight,Buffythought.Shedoveforthenearestdoor,yankeditopen,
andboltedthrough,slammingitbehindher.Theswingingdoorhitoneoftherat-thingsonthesnoutandknockeditbackwardintoitsbrotherandsisterrat-thingswithahigh-pitchedsquealofpain,andshetookafleetingsatisfactionthatshehadcauseditsomepain,becauseitanditsfellowshadcertainlyfreakedheroutenormously.
Theroomshefoundherselfinwassomekindoflibrary,withbigleather-boundvolumesscatteredonbookstands,andchairsandtablesatwhichtoreadthem.Liketheotherroomsshehadpassedthrough,itwasempty,andshedidn’ttaketimetolookatthebookstoseeifshecouldreadthem,becausethoseratthingshadbrokendownanotherdoor,andatthispointtherewasonlyonedoorseparatingherfromthem.Butthelibraryhadanotherexit,sosheheadedthere,tuggingopenthedooreventhoughitstucklikeadoorswelledbydampweather.Asshepassedthroughthisseconddoor,thefirstdoorflewopenandthedog-sizeratschargedin,squeakingandscamperingstraightforher.
“Stupid,stupidratcreatures!”Buffyshoutedatthemasshepushedthisdoorshut.Shecouldn’teventellwhatthisroomwasfor,maybetakingprivatemeals.Asmalltablestoodinthecenterwithfourchairsaroundit,andaheavysideboardabuttedonewall.Buffyrantothesideboard,whichtwonormalhumanscouldn’thavebudged.ButshewastheSlayer,andsheleanedagainstit,pressedherfeetagainstthestonefloorfortraction,and,feelingthemusclesinherarmsandshouldersstrainfromtheweight,shesliditacrossthefloorinfrontofthedoor.
Thedoorrattledinitsframeastherat-thingshurledthemselvesagainstit,butwiththeweightofthesideboardthere,itheld.Theskitteringstopped.
Buffytookadeepbreath,andletitout.
Butwhatshehadn’tnoticedwasthattherewasapass-throughfromanotherroom,probablyawaytoservemealsinhere,anditwascoveredbyaslidingwoodenpanel.
Shenoticeditonlywhenitsplintered,andoneofthewhiskeredrattysnoutsshovedthroughit,forcingitswigglingbodyallthewaythrough.Ifshehadn’tmovedthesideboarditwouldhavelandedontopofit,butinsteaditdroppedtothefloorwithaheavythump,andthenanotheronecamethrough,andanother.
Buffyrealizedthatnotonlyweren’ttheratcreaturesthatstupid,theywereprobablysmarterthantheratssheknewbackhome.ExceptpossiblyforAmy,
probablysmarterthantheratssheknewbackhome.ExceptpossiblyforAmy,whowas,afterall,moreofanenchantedwitchthanarat.
Shelungedforthedoorthatledoutofhere,thankfulthatmostoftheseroomsseemedtohaveatleasttwowaysinandout.Probably,shethought,becausetheplaceisamaze,andamazeisn’tmuchgoodifitdoesn’tallowforlotsofprogressinentirelythewrongdirection.
Thistime,theratcreatureswereclosertoher,andshedidn’tevenmanagetogetthedoorclosedbeforeafewofthemhadwedgedtheirbodiesinthedoorway.Sheheardsquealsofpainandfeltbonescrunchunderthepressureofthedoorasshepusheditclosed,butsheknewshecouldn’tcloseitallthewaywithoutshooingthemalloutofthedoorway,andtheredidn’tseemtobemuchchanceofthathappening.Shegaveup,ranacrossthisroom,whichwascompletelydevoidoffurnishings,andthroughthenextdoor.Ratthingsnippedatherheelsassheran,andshefeltherheelkickoneintheteeth.
Anotherroom,anotherdoor.Buffyfeltherselfgrowingwinded.Witheachroomshepassedthrough,theratsseemedtogetcloserandcloser.There’llcomeatime,shethought,thatI’llhavetofightthem.Maybeitshouldbesoonerratherthanlater,whileIstillhavesomeenergytodevotetoit.
Sheslammedthedoor,justaheadofthem,ofaroomthatseemedtobesomekindofarmory—swords,axes,andpikeslinedthewalls,organizedbysizeinracks.Goodplaceforabattle,sherealized.Atleastthereareplentyofweapons—andtherats,Ibelieve,arealittleshortonopposingthumbs.
Shewasreachingforadouble-handedwaraxwhenshecaughtamovementoutofthecornerofhereye.Snatchinguptheax,shewhirled,raisingit—andstoppedinchesfromAngel’sthroat.
“Buffy,”hesaid.“Easy.YouknowIhatebeingdecapitated.”
Sheloweredtheax.“Sorry.Thereweretheseratcreatures.”
“Ratcreatures?”heechoed.
Shenoddedtowardthedoor.Scratchingandsqueakingcouldbeheardfromtheotherside.“They’llknockthatdoordown,anysecond.”
“Ratsthatcanknockdownadoor?”Angelasked.
“Ratsthatcanknockdownadoor?”Angelasked.
“Ratsthesizeofpoodles.Thebigones,notthosetoysorminiatures.”
“Poodles,”Angelrepeated.
“Look,justtakemywordforit,”Buffydemanded.“You’llseesoonenoughifwedon’tgetoutofhere.”Shelookedathim.“Howdidyougetinhere,anyway?Wherehaveyoubeen?Where’dyoucomefrom?”
“Later,”Angelsaid.“Longstory.Iftheratsaregoingtogetus,let’sgivethemasurprise.”
Buffyheftedtheax.“WhatIhadinmind.”
Angelreachedupononeofthewallsandremovedacandlefromitsghastlysconce.“Ihadadifferentidea.”
“Ooh,firegood,”Buffysaidwithawrysmile.
“Butwhattoburn?”Angelasked.
Buffystrodetooneoftheweaponsracksandshookit,throwingtheweaponstothefloorwithaclatter.Thensheraisedheraxandchoppedthewoodenracktobits.Withtheheadoftheax,sheshovedthebitsagainstthedoor,whichbowedinwardfromthepressureoftherats.
“Kindling,”shesaid.“Buthurry,becausethatdoorwon’tholdmuchlonger.”
AngelpulledawallhangingoffthewallandpusheditintoBuffy’spileofkindling.Heheldthecandle’sflametothedryfabric,anditcaughtimmediately.Hetouchedthecandletootherpartsofthewoodpile,ignitinglittleflameswhereverhecould.
Bythetimetheratsbrokethough,asmallfireburnedbeforethedoor.BuffyandAngelpassedthroughyetanotherdoorintoyetanotherroom—thecastleseemedtobefullofrooms,butBuffyknewthatitwasjustaspossiblethattherewereonlythreeandtheyjustkeptchangingfrommomenttomoment.Thisroomdidn’tseemtocontainanythingflammable,sotheykeptrunning,throughanotherdoorandintoanotherroom.Heretheyfoundpaydirt—bigtrunksfullofelaborateclothing,fabricslikesilksandsatins,andsimplerones,morelikecotton,Buffythought.
cotton,Buffythought.
Theyjammedtheclothingupagainstthedoorandlititwithacoupleoftheomnipresentcandles.
Itcaughtlikegasoline.
“Let’sseethemcomethroughthat,”Angelsaid.
“Itshouldslowthemdown,”Buffyagreed.“ButIthinkthere’soneotherproblem.”
“What’sthat?”
Buffywavedahandaroundtheroom.“There’snootherdoor.”
“Can’tbedone,man,”Ren’chladargued,runninghisfingersthroughhisgreasy,mattedhair.
Disgusting,Spikethought.Goodthinghe’salreadyavampire—IcouldbestarvingtodeathandIwouldn’ttakeabiteoutofhim.
“Anythingcanbedone,”Spikecountered.“Ifyouwantitenough.”
“Yousoundnaïve,”Malonpointedout.Theysatintheshadeofthebigrocks,waitingforthesuntodropbelowthehorizon.Itwaslowinthesky,sosoonthey’dbemakingtheirnightlypilgrimagetotherivertodrinkandfilltheskinstheycarriedbacktotheirsleepingarea.
“Listen,mate,I’velivedplentylongenoughtohavethenaïvetélongsinceknockedoutofme,”Spikesaid.“WhatIamisarealist,andIknowI’mnotwillingtobeanexhibitfortherestofmylife.”Which,withafree-flowingriverofbloodandnonaturalpredators,heknew,couldbeaverylongtimeindeed.
NowheknewwhatHellwas.Nottheplacetheytoldstoriesabout,theplaceheknewAngelhadspentsomeseriousdowntimein.No,itwasaneverlastingstretchoftimewiththeseapatheticfoolsinavampirezoo,beingobservedbytouristsonholidaylikeabunchofchimpsinacage.
“Ain’tsobad,”Ren’chladcountered.“Plentytoeat.Nobodytryin’tostakeyou.Placetohideoutwhenthesun’sup.”
Placetohideoutwhenthesun’sup.”
“Notsobad,”Spikerepeatedwithasneer.“Whereyouguysarefrom,doyouhaveaSlayer?Someonewhosejobisjusttohuntyoudownandkillyou?”
“Somethinglikethat,”Malonsaid.“Wedon’tcallhimthat.”
“It’saman?”Spikeasked.
“Yeah,”Malonreplied.“Akid,really.Buttough.”
“Oursisagirl,”Spikesaid.“Young,beautiful...”HepicturedBuffyinhismind’seye,wearingredleatherpantsandasleevelessblacktop,astakeclenchedinherfistandadeterminedgleaminherlovelygreeneyes.“Anyway,thechallengeofitall—outwittingher,dodgingher,outmaneuveringher—helpsmakelifeworthwhile,youknow?Thethrillofthehunt.Thechase.Knowingthatonewrongmovecouldbeyourlast.Withoutthat,whybother?”
“Soundsstupid,”Ren’chladsaid.
“Yeah,wellabathsoundsstupidtoyou,”Spikeshotback.“Butsomeofusbelieveinsoapandwater—justnottodrink.Andwebelieveinlivingbyourwits,usingourheadsforsomethingmorethanrootingourhair.”
“Hey,”Ren’chladsaid.Angerflashedinhiseyes.
“What?”Spikeasked,leapingtohisfeet.“Don’tlikeit?Wanttotakeaswingatme?”
Ren’chladwavedahandathim,languidly.“Naw,”hesaid.
“Leavehimalone,Spike,”Issakbrokein.“Hedon’twanttofightyou.”
“Lookstomelikenoneofyouwanttofightanything,”Spikesaid.“Youjustwanttositbackandtakewhatyou’rehanded.”
“Life’seasy,”Malonsaid.“Whystress?”
“Becauseeasy’sboring!”
“Toyou,maybe,”Ren’chladsaid.“Nottous.”
Spikepacedinthebigrock’sshadow.“Icanbarelybelieveyouusedtobevampires,”hesaid.“Hunters.Mercilesspredators.Nowlookatyou.”
Ren’chladsmiled,exposingamouthfulofrottedteeth,andthegapswheresomehadfallenout.Stringyhairpasteditselftohischeek.“Pretty,ain’twe?”
Spikehadtoturnaway.
Anhourlater,thesunwasgoneandasliverofmoonpokedabovethehorizon.Good,hethought,adarknight.Perfect.
Theothervampiresbusiedthemselvesgatheringskinstocarrydowntotheriver.Spikewatchedthemwithcontempt.Theybarelypaidhimanymindatall,usedtohislackofrespectorinterestintheircomingsandgoings.Hehadbeenhereforthreerisingsofthemoon,thoughhisinternalclockdidn’tseemtomatchupwiththat,heknew.Hefiguredthedayshereweren’tmuchmorethansevenoreighthourslong,ifthat—timeseemedtopassatanacceleratedrate.SoaboringeternitywouldpassmorequicklythanitwouldbackonhisEarth,butitwouldstillbeeternity.
Asthevampirestroopeddowntotheriver,Spikehungback.Therestofthegroupmadearightturn,andSpike—feelingapangofhungerthatthreatenedtooverwhelmhimandsendhimtotheriverwiththeothers—madehimselfgoleftinstead.Towardthefence.
Malonhadsaid“they,”whoevertheywere,couldelectrifyitatwill.Theimplicationwasthattheywatcheditatalltimes.Buthowcouldthey?Spikedidn’tknowhowbigthefencedenclosurewas,butthatveryfact—thefactthathecouldn’tseeonesideofitfromtheother,andthatnoneoftheothervampireshadclaimedtohavesurveyedthewholething—indicatedtohimtheimpossibilityofmonitoringeverypointonthefenceateverymoment.Spikewasoneman,alone—wouldn’ttheybewatchingthebulkofthemastheywenttotheriverforthenight’sfeasting?Heknewhewastakingachance,butitseemedlikeacalculatedrisk.
Inafewmoments,hewasatthefence.Itwasnoshorterthanithadbeenthefirsttimehe’dseenit,andthefourstrandsofbarbedwirestrungacrossthetoplookedjustassharp.Butinthebriefdaysbetweenthenandnow,he’drealizedthathewasnotavampirewhocouldstandtobecoopedupinherefortherestoftime.Heneededtobeout,tobefree.Hewasahunter,notacaptive.
Spikeshookouthishandsandtookarunningstart.Apowerfulleaplandedhimmostofthewayupthefence,fingerstwiningthroughthelinks.Heusedthemomentumofhisjumptokeephislegsinmotion,turningonthefulcrumofhishands,performingagymnast’smovetotrytospinoverthetopofthefence.
Hedidn’tquitemakeit.Hegainedloft,releasedthefence,andturnedinmidair,headwhippingoverhisheels.Butwhenhereachedthepeakofhisarcandstarteddown,hesawthathewascomingdowndirectlyintotheslightly-angledbarbedwirestrands.Heputhishandsdowntotiphimselfawayfromthebarbsandoverthefence,andhishandscaughtonthebarbs,hisfleshtearing.
Amomentlaterhelandedflatonhisback.Heblinkedacoupleoftimes,lookedupatthesky.Hewasontheoutside.
Forafewminuteshejustwaitedthere.He’dtouchedthefence,ifonlybriefly,andithadnotbeenelectrified.Didthatmeanhisescapehadgoneunnoticedbythezookeepers?Itwaspossible,heknew.Hestrainedhisearstolisten,buttherewasnosoundotherthantheusualnightnoisesofthisplace,thedistantrushofthebloodriver,thechirpsofunseeninsects,therustleofabreezestirringthetallgrasses.Thenightairsmelledsweet,richandfertile,buttherewerenounusualorunexpectedscentsthatmightindicatedanger.Spikeslowly,cautiously,rosetoastandingposition.Heglancedbackthroughthefence,athisformerprison,andthenturnedhisbacktoit.
Nopathmarkedthissideoftheline,notrailthatmightleadtofreedomorcapture.Spikewasonhisown,apioneerstrikingoutacrossunmappedterritory.Thesamehighgrassgrewonthisside,sohepushedhiswaythroughit,headinginastraightline.Hehadnowaytoknowwhichwaydangerwas,soitdidn’tmuchmatterwherehewent.Hejustwanteddistancebetweenhimselfandtheenclosure.Hecouldworryaboutanultimatedestinationlater.
Ashewalked,hefoundhimselfwonderingagainwhathadbecomeofBuffyandAngel.Theyweresupposedtobeheresomewhere,buttherehadbeennosignofthem.Hadtheymetupwiththepeoplewhorantheplace?Azoofullofcaptivevampireswouldbegreatsporttothem,hesupposed.HelikedtothinkthatBuffywouldhavemoreclassthanthat,butshewastheSlayer,afterall,whateverelsehemightcreditherwith.ThepersonBuffywasonething,theSlayersomethingelseentirely.
Toppingahillside,hetookanotherquicklookbackatwherehe’dbeen.Hecouldstillseethefence,farbelowhimnow,asparklinglineinthefaintmoonlight.Beyondthat,hewasabletomakeoutthedarkbandoftheriver.Theothervampswouldbetheredrinkingnow,andprobablywonderingwhathadbecomeofoldSpike.Heimaginedstorieswouldbetoldofhimthroughtheages,now—theonethatgotaway.Cherycewouldbeproudofme,hethought,thenrememberedthatCherycewasnolongerinapositiontobeproudofanyone.Hethoughtaboutherforamoment,sadlyrememberingthegoodtimesthey’dhad,realizingshe’dneverbeabletointroducehimtoherfriendwhomightbeabletoextracthischip.
Heheardthemfirstjustashestarteddowntheothersideofthehill,intoasweepingvalleythatlookedasifitmighthaveinhabitedstructuresinit.Adronelikeamosquito,thenlikeawholetroopofthem,angryanddetermined.Thesoundquicklygrewlouder,andSpikeknewitwasnoinsect.Hecouldn’tseeanythinginthedarkskyyet,buthestartedtorunjustthesame.Headingdownhill,hemovedquicklythroughthethickgrass.
Louderandlouder,thedroneturnedintoaroarjustbeforethefirstofthemappearedoverthetopofthehill.Spikeriskedalookoverhisshoulderasheran.Theyweresomekindofflyingsleds,withtwohelmetedoccupantsoneach,standingup.Onegrippedwhatmusthavebeenthesteeringmechanism,andtheotherstoodbehindwhatcouldonlybeaweaponofsomekind.Astungun,Spikefigured.Ifthesewereindeedzookeepers,they’dwanttogettheirexhibitsbacksafelyandunharmed.
Hethrewhimselfflatontheground,countingonthetallgrasstohidehim.Anotherglancerevealedmoreofthesleds,atleastsixofthemnow,maybemore,passingoverthehillhe’djustclimbed.Ashewatchedthroughthebladesofgrass,oneofthemcametoahoveringstop,justoverhead.Theonestandingbehindtheweapon,asinister-lookingcontraptionmountedonaswivelingstand,swungitsbarrelaroundandpointeditdirectlyatSpike.
Spikejumpedupandbeganrunningagain,cuttingacrazyzigzaginhopesofavoidingwhateverstunbeamtheseblokesthrewathim.Obviouslythatonehadspottedhim,andwhilehedidn’tliketheideaofexposinghimself,justlayingtherelettingthemblasthimdidn’tseemlikeagoodplaneither.
AsSpikeleapedtohisfeet,thegunnerfiredhisweapon.Anexplosionfromthe
spotwhereSpikehadjustbeennearlybowledthevampireover.Thosearen’tstunguns,hethought.They’rebloodywelltryingtokillme!
Nowtheothersledsgroupedaroundthefirstone,andmoreraysshotdowntowardtheground,allaroundSpike.Everytimetheyhit,anexplosionshooktheearth,sendingdirtanddebrisflyingintoSpike’sface.Hedodgedandweaved,buttheblastscamecloserandcloser.
Finally,onefireddirectlyinSpike’spath.Theconcussivewaveslammedintohimwiththeforceofaphysicalblow.Spikewentdowninthegrassagain,andthistimehedidn’tgetup.
InsidetheGas-N-GoMischaspottedaclerkandasinglecustomer,amiddle-agedmanpickingbetweencompetingbrandsofcream-filledcupcakes.Thecopwasrightbehindhim,heknew,runningfromhiscar,nodoubtdrawinghisweapon.Mischadidn’thavetimetothink,onlytoact.Hegrabbedthecustomerfrombehind,onearmtightaroundtheman’sneck,andspunhimsohefacedthedoor,blockingMischa’sbodywithhisown.Theguyutteredastrangledcry.
Thecopburstthroughthedoors,guninbothhandspointedatMischa.
“Freeze!”hedemanded.
“Youshoot,you’llkillthismanfirst,”Mischareplied.“Imightjustsnaphisneckanyway,ifyoudon’tdropthatgun.”
ThehighwaypatrolmanheldhisbeadonMischa,asifgauginghischancesofmakingtheshot.Mischawascarefultokeepthemaninfrontofhim,evenbobbinghisownheadtomakesureitwashiddenbehindhishostage’sheadatleastsomeofthetime.Hedidn’tknowifthiscopwasagoodshot,butatbasicallypoint-blankrange,hedidn’twanttogivehimachancetoplayhero.
“Can’tdothat,son,”thepatrolmansaid.Hewasinhisthirties,maybe,barelyoldenoughtohaveasonMischa’sage.Buthehadthatessenceofmaturitythatsometimescamefromhavingauniformandabadge.“Whydon’tyoujustletgoofhimandlet’sworkthisout?”
ThehostagenoddedhissupportofthatideabutMischajustgrippedhimtighter,cuttingoffhisairsupply.ThenoddingstoppedandMischarelaxedhisgripjustalittle.
alittle.
“That’sagoodidea,”theclerksaidfrombehindthecounter.He’dduckeddownintohidingassoonasthecophadchargedthroughthedoor.
“Idonotwanttohurtanybody,”Mischasaid.“ButIhavesomethingveryimportanttodo,andIwon’tbestopped.”
“Whateveritis,son,itcanwaitwhilewesettlethis,”thecopoffered.
“Youhavenoideawhatyou’retalkingabout,”Mischaargued.“AndIamnotyourson.”
“No,you’renot,”thepatrolmanresponded.Heheldhisstance.Theopeningattheendofthegunbarrellookedimpossiblybigandblack.“Butthatdoesn’tmatter.Whatmattersisthatnoonedoesanythinghe’llregretlater.”
IfIdon’tmeetupwithAlina,wemightallregretitlater,Mischaknew.ShealonecouldworktheRealityTracer,sosheheldtheworld’sfutureinherhands.HehadtofindherattheGrandCanyon,hadtomakesureshewasn’trecapturedbyherparentsoranyonewho’dforcehertouseitfortheirevilends.
“Idonothavetimetoexplaintoyou,”Mischasaid.“Sojustlisten.Thismanwilldieifyoudonotgetoutofmyway.Doyouwanthisdeathonyourhands?”
“Itwon’tbeonmine,it’llbeonyours,”thecopcountered.“Iknowyoudon’twantthat.”
“OnedeathisnothingcomparedtohowmanylivesIamtryingtosave.”
“Whydon’tyoutellmeaboutit,then?MaybeIcanhelp.”“Youwouldneverbelieveme.Now,pleasemove.”Mischaincreasedthepressureagain,andthemangaveoutastrangled“Urk.”Thehighwaypatrolmantookastepbackward.
“Isthatyourcaroutsideatthepumps?”Mischaaskedhishostage.“Thefourwheeldrive?”
ThemannoddedasfarasMischa’sgripwouldallowhimto.
“Keysinit?”
“Pocket,”themanmanaged.
“Pocket,”themanmanaged.
“Takethemoutandputtheminmylefthand,”Mischaordered.
“Don’tdoit,sir,”thecopinstructed.
“He’snottheoneholdingyourneckinhishands,”Mischagrowled.
Themanreachedintohispocket,fishedoutakeyring.
“Theignitionkey,please.”
Themanfoundthatkey,putitintoMischa’shand.Thecopglancedatthehandasifhemighttryshootingit,butMischaquicklymoveditbackbehindhishostage’sback.
“NowIaskyouagain,”Mischasaid.“Pleasegetoutofmyway.We’regoingthroughthedoor,andIwouldliketodoitinsuchawaythatnobodygetshurt.”
“Ican’tletyoudoit,”thecopsaid.
“Thenyou’rewillingtokillthisinnocentman?”Thepatrolmanheldhispositionforamomentlonger,thenloweredhisgunandsteppedtothesideofthedoor.
“Thinkaboutwhatyou’redoing,”hetried.
“Ihavetodothis.”Mischakeptthehostagebetweenhimselfandtheofficerashepassedbyhimandbackedoutthedoor.Hekeptgoing,themaninstepwithhim,alsowalkingbackward,allthewaytotheNissanXterrathatwaitedbythegaspumps.
Atthecar’sdoor,Mischareachedbackwithhislefthandandworkedthehandle.Thedoorswungopen.Nowthehardpart,Mischathought.Heleveragedhimselfupintothedriver’sseat,stillclutchingthemanaroundtheneck.Thepatrolmanhadfollowedthemoutsideandhadraisedhisweaponagain,drawingabeadonthedriver’sseat.Mischahunchedoverintheseat;ifhesatupstraighthe’dbetoohighupforthehostageandwouldbeaneasytarget.Awkwardly,hefedthekeyintotheignitionandcrankedit.TheSUVstarted.
Gunningtheengine,Mischaputthecarintogear,changedhisgriponhishostageandshovedtheguystraighttowardthepatrolman.Atthesametimeheslammedhisfootdownontheaccelerator.Thevehiclelurchedforward,andby
slammedhisfootdownontheaccelerator.Thevehiclelurchedforward,andbythetimetheofficerhadaclearshotatit,hisangleoffirehadchanged.Hefiredthreetimes,hisbulletsstrikingtherearofthevehicle,shatteringarearwindowandpunchingholesinthebackrightfender.
MischapulledthedoorclosedashebumpedupandoveracurbmarkingtheendoftheGas-N-Golot.Beyondwasnothingbutopendesert.Hereatthefringesofthehighway,thedesertwastrampledbycarsandpeople.Plasticbagsclungtothecreosotebushes;softdrinkcansscatteredattheirbases.Anoldelectricrangestoodabandoned,itsdoormissing,nexttoabullet-riddledsaguarocactus.
Behindhim,heheardthereportofthepatrolman’sgunfiringonemoretime,butthebulletvanishedharmlesslyintothedesert.Mischaknewtheguywouldbeontheradiosoonenough,callingforhelicoptersorotherhelp—buthealsoknewthecopcouldn’tfollowhimoff-roadinhissquadcar,soatleasthehadaheadstart.Afterhe’dputsomespacebetweenhimselfandthehighway,hefoundanold,rutteddirtroad,andfolloweditawayfromthesettingsun.
Chapter10
LosAngeles
“OFCOURSE,”WESLEYSAID,“THEDIFFICULTPARTISthatshe’sinprison.”
“Ofcourse,”Rileyagreed.Hesat,somewhatillatease,inCordelia’slivingroom.AlinasatonthefloorworkingonherRealityTracer,andCordeliabusiedherself,asfarashecouldtell,bylookingbusy.“Thatwouldbeadrawback.”
“Quite.”
“Unlesswecouldgetherout.”
“Doyouknowafriendlyjudge?Orsenator?”Wesleyinquired.
“MaybeyourInitiativegoonscanjuststormtheplace,”Cordeliaoffered.
“Idon’tthinkso,”Rileyreplied.“Iwasthinkingmaybesomethingalittlemorediscreet.”
“Youreallydowanttobreakherout,”Wesleysaid,awrysmilecrossinghisface.
“Itwasyouridea,”Rileysaid.Hefoundthemankindofamusing.VaguelyreminiscentofGiles,butsomehowdifferentatthesametime.Fromwhathe’dheard,Wesleywascapableofcommittingsomeviolencewhenitneededtobedone—acrackshotwithahandgun,foronething.Gileshadtalentsofhisown,butRileyhadthesensethatWesleymightbealittlehandierinatoughsituation.
“Well,yes,butIdidn’texpectthatwewouldactuallydoit.”
“Isn’tthatkindof,well,illegal,forastraightarrowlikeyou?”Cordeliaasked.
“MaybeI’mnotasstraightasyouthink,Cordelia,”Rileysaid,smilingather.HewonderedhowAngelcouldputupwithher.Butthen,hewonderedhowAngelcouldputupwithAngel.Hewouldn’tbeableto,foranylengthoftimeatall.
Historyhassomethingtodowiththat,hethought.Alottodowithit.ThehistoryofBuffy.
AndBuffywaswhatmatteredhere.IfbreakingFaithoutofjailwaswhatittooktomakesureBuffygothomesafely,thenhe’ddoitifhehadtokickdownthewallssingle-handedly.
“Whatdidyouhaveinmind,then?”Wesleyasked.“Chopperinduringthedeadofnight?Acommandoraid?Tunnels?”
“IwasthinkingI’droundupsomehelp.”
“Whatkindofhelp?”
“SeemslikesomethingGunnmightbegoodat,”Rileysuggested.
“Gunn?”Wesleyechoed.
“Youknowhim,right?”
“Actually,I’venevermethim,”Wesleyreplied.“HeandCordeliaandIhaveseeneachother,briefly.Wehaven’tbeenintroduced.”
“Wedidn’tknowwhohewas,”Cordeliaexplained.
“Thattoo,”Wesleyconfirmed.
“Butyouknowhowtofindhim.”
“Surewedo,”Cordeliasaid.“Ordowe?”
“Weknowhisneighborhood,”Wesleypointedout.
“Thatmighthelp.”Rileygotupfromthecouchandwanderedtotheshelves,eyeingthetitlesofsomeofthebooks.“GunncametoSunnydaleandworkedwithusforawhile.He’sagoodguy.”
withusforawhile.He’sagoodguy.”
“Seemstobe,”Wesleyagreed.
Alinalookedupfromherwork.“Gunn?”sheasked.“IlikeGunn.”
“Youknowhim?”Rileyasked.
“Hesavedmefromsomebadmen,”Alinasaid.“Isverybrave.”
“Yeah,heis,”Rileysaid.“Braveastheycome.”
“Icomewithyou?TofindGunn?”
Rileyshookhishead,smilingpatientlyattheyounggirl.“Younotcomewithme.I’llgobymyself.Thosestreetsaren’tsafeatnight.”
“Icouldaccompanyyou,”Wesleyvolunteered.“Anextrapairoffists,asitwere.”
“IthinkI’llbeokay,”Rileysaid.“Butthanksfortheoffer.”
“Anyway,don’tyouhaveamachinetofix?”Cordeliapointedout.
Alinathrewatinyscrewdrivertotheground.“Igiveup,”shesaid.“Icannot.”
“Youcan’tfixit?”Wesleyaskedher.
“No,”shesaid,herlipsfixedinapout.“Iwilltakeithometomyfather.Hecanfix.”
“Andthenmakeyouuseitforevilly-typethings?”Cordeliaaskedher.
“Hewilltry,”Alinasaid.“Hewillnotsucceed.”
Rileywatchedherpickupherscrewdriverandputawayhertools.Determinedkid,hethought.He’donlyheardsketchydetailsaboutherpast,butitsoundedlikeshe’dhaditrough.Hehopedshegotthroughthismessandouttheothersideinonepiece.
Faithheadedbacktoherbunkafterkitchenduty.She’dbeenassignedtodinnerdishes,whichmeanttwohoursaftertheday’sfinalmeal,uptohershouldersin
dishes,whichmeanttwohoursaftertheday’sfinalmeal,uptohershouldersinscaldinghotwater,scrubbingthefilthoffplatesandflatwareandtrays.Thewomeninthisplaceseemedtohavenosenseofpersonalresponsibility.Shecouldn’tquiteimaginehowfoodandgrimecouldgetquitesocakedon,unlesstheydiditintentionallytomakelifehardforthosewithkitchendetail.
Shehaddishdutybecauseitwasapunishment,andshewaspunishedbecauseshe’dmadethewrongenemies.Nothingnewthere,shethought.Spentmylifedoingthat.
ThisparticularenemywasnamedJuliaSwank.ShewasinYorbaLindaRanchonracketeeringcharges,whichwassomedistrictattorney’swayofputtingherinsidewhenhehadn’tbeenabletomakeanythingelsestick.Basically,shehadrunwithagangofdopers,andshehadpersuadedthemtobuildamethlabinthegarageofoneofthem.They’dgonealongwithherscheme,cookingthedrugandsellingitonstreetcorners.Finally,thegaragehadblownup,killingoneofthemen.Anotheronehadturnedstate’sevidenceandfingeredherasthebrainsbehindtheoperation.Herconnectionwasdifficulttoprove—shehadneveractuallyenteredthelab,shenevertouchedthedrugs,sheneversoldany.Butusingracketeeringlaws,they’dbeenabletobringherdownandputheraway.
Nowthatshewasinside,shewantedtocontinuerunningthingsherway.She’dmadefriendsontheinside,guardsandtrusteesandeven,somesaid,thewarden.Certainly,shegotfavorsnotgrantedtheotherinmates.YorbaLindawasaworkfarm,notassecureasarealprison,butJuliaSwankhaditeasyevenbythesestandards.Shehadaprivatecell,wheremostwomenhadtoshareabunkroomwithtwenty-threeotherwomen.Shewasallowedvisitorsinhercell,whenshewantedthem,bothfromwithinthepopulationandfromoutside.Onlythecushiestjobswereassignedtoher.Sheevenhadmealsdeliveredtohercell,whenshewantedthem.
ButCarrieGrimes,whohadbefriendedFaith,hadsomehowfoundherselfonJulia’sbadside.Carriewasplain,petite,abitonthemousyside,Faiththought.Butsweetascouldbe.Shewasinforhavingkneecappedanabusiveboyfriend.Insteadofgivingherthemedalshe’ddeserved,thestateofCaliforniahadlockedherawayfortenyears.Becauseshewasn’ttough,didn’tputonafront,andshiedawayfromtrouble,JuliaSwankmadeatargetofher.
Faithsawithappenonce,andinterceded.
Theguardsbrokeituptooquickly,andshehadendedupwithkitchendutyfortwomonths.Onemoreinfraction,sheknew,anditwassolitaryconfinement.
ThatwasachanceFaithwaswillingtotakeifitmeantbreakingJuliaSwank’sholdontheprisononceandforall.
Andtonight’sthenightithappens.
She’dhadtouseCarrieGrimesasbait,whichshedidn’tlike.ButCarriewaswilling,soFaithdidn’taskhertwice,justexplainedthesetuptoher.Carriewouldbestraggling,movingslowaboutbrushingherteethandgettingreadyforbed.TheotherwomenwouldallbeinbedwhileCarriewasstillinthewashroom.SinceJuliawasstilllookingforachancetogetCarriewithoutFaitharound,herminionswouldreportthistoher,andsomecrookedguardwouldletJuliaoutofhercell.SheandherthugswouldcatchCarrieinthewashroom.
WhichwaswhenFaithwouldcomeinfromkitchenduty.HavingcaughtJuliaandhergangintheact,she’dkicksomemajorbutt,andthengettheguardwholetJuliaoutbustedaswell.
It’safoolproofplan,shethought.
“Whatareyoudoingout?”
ThevoicestoppedFaithshort.Itwasoneoftheguards,VickiHenderson.Shortandblocky,withclose-croppedauburnhair,shesteppedfromtheshadowsandstoodinFaith’spath.Inherhandssheheldabaton.
“Justcominginfromkitchenduty,”Faithexplainedwearily.
“Youshould’vebeeninbeforenow,”Hendersoninsisted.“Youknowwhattimelightsoutis.”
“Iknow.Ialsoknowthosewomenareabunchofslobs,andifIdon’tgetthedishescleanIhavetodothemagain.SoIstayaslongasittakes.”
“Howdoyouexpecttogettoyourbunk?”
“Thedoorsaren’tlockeduntileleven,”Faithsaid.“Youknowthat.”
“HellIdo,”Hendersonargued.“FarasI’mconcerned,whenlightsoutisatten,
“HellIdo,”Hendersonargued.“FarasI’mconcerned,whenlightsoutisatten,ten’swhenyoushouldbeinyourbunk.Youain’t,yougetdisciplined.”
Ireallydon’thavetimeforthistonight,Faiththought.Shefeltthesecondstickingby.Carriewouldbeinalotoftroubleifthisguarddelayedher.
“Listen,I’msorry,”shesaid.“I’lldothemfastertomorrownight.”“Spendingthenightinsolitarymighthelpyourememberthat,”Hendersonthreatened.
“Ican’tdothat,”Faithsaid.ShehadthoughtthatHendersonwasoneoftheguardswhofavoredJuliaSwank.Chanceswere,ifshewasouthererightnow,itwasbecauseshehadjustletJuliaoutofhercelltopayavisittoCarrie.Shereallydidn’tknowanyotherwaytoexplainHenderson’scontinualhostilitytowardher,otherthanthefactthatshewasaninmateandHendersonaguard,andsomeoftheguardstookthatdifferencemorepersonallythanothers.
“YouwillifIsayyouwill.”Hendersonraisedthebaton,tookasteptowardher.
Faithreactedinstinctively.ShereachedforHendersonasshewasstillinmotion,hermomentum,howeverfaint,stillpushinghertowardFaith.Shegottheguard’srightarminherhandandyankedbackonit,drawingitoverherownrightshoulder.Thenshefellontoherback,kickingupwithherlegs.Hendersonwaspulledoverher,launchedfromFaith’sfeet,andlandedinacrumpledpilebehindFaith.
BythetimeHendersonfoundherbalance,Faithloomedoverher,holdingthebaton.
“You’reinalotoftrouble,Faith,”Hendersontoldher.
“Me?”Faithasked.“Lookstomelikeyou’retheoneintrouble.”
Hendersonpushedherselftoherfeet.“Howdoyoufigurethat?”
“Becauseyouwanttolive,”Faithsaid.“AndtheonlywayI’mgoingtoletyoudothatisifIhaveyourwordthatthisneverhappened.”
“Areyouthreateningme?”Theguard’sfacewastwistedwithrage.“Don’teventhinkyoucan—”
“Ifyoudon’twanttolive,thatcanbearrangedtoo,”Faithremindedher.Shetappedthebatonagainstherownpalm.“Yourcall.”
tappedthebatonagainstherownpalm.“Yourcall.”
Hendersonglaredatherforamoment,asifweighingheroptions.“Okay,thistime,”shefinallyagreed.“Butcrossmeoncemoreandyou’llregretit.”
“Oneofuswill,”Faithsaid.Sheexertedpressureonthebaton,butnotenoughtovisiblystrainher,andsnappeditinhalf.“Here,”shesaid,handingthepiecestotheguard.
Hendersonlookedinhorroratthetwohalvesofherbaton.Herfacewhite,shehurriedaway.
Faithpickedupthepace,wantingtogettothewashroombeforeCarriewasreallyhurt.Shewendedherwaybetweentheblockhousescontainingbunksforthewomenuntilshegottohers,thebuildingwithabig17paintedontheside.Shetuggedopenthedoor,rushedthroughthebunkarea,andbacktothewashroom.Thewashroomdoorwaslocked.
Itwasn’tsupposedtobe.
Faithgrippedtheknob,appliedallherstrength,andtwistedit.Itsnappedopenandthedoorswungfree.
Inside,CarrieGrimeswasbackedupagainstasink,struggling,panicinhereyes.Threewomenheldherarmsandherneck.JuliaSwankstoodbeforeherwithalong-bladedkitchenknifeinherhands.AtFaith’sentrance,Juliaswungaround,pointingtheknifeatFaith.
“Justintime,”Juliasaid.“ThoughtyoumightliketoseeyourlittlefriendgetcarvedlikeaThanksgivingturkey.”
“Noonegetscarved,”Faithsaid.“Exceptmaybeyou,ifyoudon’tputthatdown.”
JulialungedatFaith.Faithrespondedbykickingupward,akicksofastastobealmostinvisible,thatcaughtJulia’swrist.Theknifeflewfromherhand,straightup,andjammedintotheceiling.Juliagrabbedatherwrist.
“Thatwasarealmistake,”shehissed,herteethclenchedagainstthepain.“Takeherdown,”sheorderedherminions.
Faithwaitedfortheattack.ThethreewomenletgoofCarrie,whoremained
Faithwaitedfortheattack.ThethreewomenletgoofCarrie,whoremainedwhereshewasagainstthesink,tearsstreamingdownhercheeks.Faithletthefirstonereachforher,andcaughtthewoman’sforearmsinbothhands.Sheyankedthewomanforward,armsoneithersideofherself,andmetthewoman’sfacewithapowerfulheadbutt.ThesoundofherjawcrackingandteethbreakingwasasymphonytoFaith.Thewomanfelltothefloor,bloodflowingfromhermouth.
TheothertworeachedFaithsimultaneously,armsflailing,gettinginafewpunches.Faithtookthemeasily.Shedroveherhandsthroughthewildlypunchingarms,grabbingbothwomenbythefrontsoftheirshirts.Withamightytug,shedrewtheirheadstogether,aboutchesthigh.Theystruggled,grapplingwithherarmsandstrikingher,butherstrengthmorethanoutmatchedtheirs.Withtwoquickkneejabstotheirfaces,bothwomenweredown.
WhichleftonlyJuliaSwank.Herprettyface—thefacethathadinspiredotherstocommithercrimesforher—wasuglynow,redandtwistedwithrage.Hermouthcurleddown,lipsparted,teethbaredlikeananimal.Shehadhookedherlong,slenderfingersintoclaws.ShefacedFaithatacrouch,coiledandreadytospring.
FaiththoughtsheoughttoletJulialive,becausekillingsomeone,eveninself-defense,mightextendherownsentence.EvensomeoneasuselessasJuliaSwank,shethought.
Ontheotherhand,judgingfromthefurywithwhichJuliaglaredather,shemightnothaveachoice.
Juliahadbarelystartedherlungewhenthebuilding’sfrontdoorburstopenandthelightspoppedon.Sixarmedguardsrushedintothebuilding,movingbetweenthebunkstowardthewashroom.Allthewomeninthebunkhousewereawakenow,whistlingandhooting.FaithheardpeopleexhortinghertokillJulia,andmorethanafewsuggestingitshouldbetheotherwayaround.Butwiththeguardsclosinginbehindher,shebackedaway.
Amomentlaterroughhandswerepinninghertotheground.Coldhandcuffsencircledherwristsandclosedtightenoughtopinch.Angryvoiceswhisperedinherears,butshecouldn’tmakeoutthewords,onlythetone.Ittookacoupleofminutestobebroughttoherfeetagain,bywhichtime,shewasdelightedtosee,Juliawasalsocuffedandunderintensescrutiny.
“It’ssolitaryforyou,”oneoftheguardstoldFaith.“Let’sgo.”
“Whatabouther?”Faithasked.
“She’snoconcernofyours,”theguarddeclared.“Butshe’snotsupposedtobeoutofhercell.She’sgotsomegriefcomingherway.”
Armedwiththatknowledge,Faithknewshecouldhandlesolitaryconfinement.
Gladly.
Angellookedatthedoortheyhadjustsetafire.“ThenIguessweusethisone,”hesaid.“Notmuchchoice.”
“It’sjuststrange,”Buffyreplied.“Alltheotherroomshadatleasttwodoors.Iguesstherealwayshastobealastroomsomewhere.”
“Soifwegothroughthisdoor,we’llhavetofightourwaypastsomebigrats?”Angelasked.Heheftedabroadswordhe’dtakenfromoneofthewallracks.“Atleastwehaveweapons.”
“Bigangryrats,”Buffyclarified.“AndwhenIsaybig,Imean,bigfordogs,notbigforrats.Giantforrats.Butthat’snoteventheworstofit.”
“Whatis?”
Buffylooksveryserious,Angelthought.Helikedherseriouslook.Browfurrowedeversoslightly,mouthastraightline,eyesintense.Hedidn’tlikeitasmuchashelikedherhappylook,butitwasstillagoodlookforher.
AndIshouldn’tbethinkingthatway,hethought.That’shistory.
“Well,Ijustcamefromthatroom,”sheexplained.“Anditwasfullofthebigratcreatures.Ididn’treallynoticemuchelseaboutit,becauseIwasinkindofahurry.But,chancesare,whenwegobackthroughthatdoor,it’llbeadifferentroomentirely.”
“Meaningwhat?”
“Meaning,roomschangehere.Youleavearoom,yougorightbackthroughthedoor,andtheroomiscompletelydifferent.”
door,andtheroomiscompletelydifferent.”
“Sowhatyou’resayingisthisisnoordinaryhouse.”
“Castle,”shecorrected.
“Castle.”
“Iguessyoudidn’tgettheoutsideview.”
“Ikindofcamethroughaportal,”Angeloffered.“Didn’tseemuchofanything.”
“It’sacastle.Thebig,dark,spookykind.Withinterestingsecurityfeatures.”
Angelstudiedthewoodendoor,whichwasnowcompletelyengulfedinflame.“Isawthesuitofarmoryoufought.”
Buffylookedconfused.“Ithoughtyousaidyoudidn’t—”
“Iwaswiththiswitch,inadifferentreality.Sheprojectedanimageofyou.Thenshesentmehere.”
“Oh.Soyoudidn’tseethedragon?”
“Nodragon.”
“Hesaid—well,afterIkilledhimandheturnedintoaman,hesaidthatIwassupposedtosaveaprincessinthetower.I’mthinkingthatshemightbeoneofthekids,youknow?FromL.A.”
Angelshookhisheadslowly.
“What?”Buffyasked.“MaybeI’mnotexplainingitverywell.”
“It’sneverboring,”Angelsaidsoftly.Insteadofelaborating,hegesturedtowardthedoor.“Youknow,ifwedon’tgothroughitsoon,it’llburnallthewaythroughandthentheratswillbeabletocomein.”
“Betteronourtermsthantheirs,you’rethinking,”Buffysaid.
“Exactly.”
Buffyraisedtheaxshe’dfound.“Followme.”
Angelalmostprotested,butdecidednotto.Buffyknowsourrespectiveabilities,hethought.Ifshewantstobefirstthroughthedoor,thenshewantstobefirst.She’snotjustsayingittobepolite.Hestoodback.
Buffyheldtheaxinfrontofherface,tooktwosteps,andcrashedthroughtheflamingdoor.Theaxtookthebruntoftheimpact,smashingthedooroutofherway,sendingshardsofwoodflyingeverywhere.Buffyflewthroughthespaceshe’dmade.Angelfollowedsuit,punchingalittlemoreofthedoorouttomakeroomforhislargerbulk.
Therewerenoratstobeseen.
Theroomwasalargehall,withtapestryhangingsonthewallsandaredcarpetrunningupthemiddle.Afewrandomlyspacedchairshuggedthewalls.Candlesflickeredinsconcesandonironstands.
“SeewhatImean?”Buffyasked.“Thisisnotwhatitwasbefore.Itwasmuchsmaller,andfullofrats.”
Angelnodded.
“DoyouthinkI’mcrazy,Angel?IfyouthinkI’vegoneinsane,justtellme,okay?”
“Idon’tthinkyou’recrazy,Buffy,”Angelsaid.“Ithinkthisisastrangecastle.”
“Understatementoftheyearaward,”Buffysaid.
“Sothequestionis,iftheroomscan’tstayput,howdoweeverfindthetowerwe’relookingfor?”
Buffyshrugged,thenpointedatthefloor.“Followtheredcarpet?”
Theydidso.Itledtolargewoodendoors,ornatelycarvedwithscenesofmedievalbattle.BuffyandAngeleachtookoneoftheironringdoorpullsandtuggedonthem,holdingtheirnewweaponsintheirotherhands.Thedoorsopenedsmoothly.
Ontheothersidewasanarrowstaircase,spiralingupandoutofsight.
Ontheothersidewasanarrowstaircase,spiralingupandoutofsight.
LosAngeles
Thebattlehadstartedbyaccident.
AcarfullofRussiangangmembersspedthroughthestreetsoftheCrenshawdistrict,afterhavingthrownMolotovcocktailsatabarknowntobefrequentedbyMexicangangmembers.Thedrivertriedtoraceayellowlight,butitturnedredbeforehequitemadeittotheintersection.
HeadingintheotherdirectionwasacarloadedwithMexicangangmembersontheirwaytoaRussianneighborhoodtodeliversomeflamingdestructionoftheirown.Thecarwasloudwithlaughter,music,raucousjokes,semihystericalscreaming,andfear.Whenthelightturnedgreen,thedriverstompedonthegas.
TheRussians’carslammedintotheMexicans’car,crunchingthedriver’ssidedoorpanelandspinningthecarthreetimesintheintersection.Itcametorest,finally,overthecurbontopoftwonewspapervendingmachinesandagainstabusstopbench.Thedriver’sleftlegwasbroken,andhewaspinnedinsidethecar.Theothersgotout,gunsdrawn.
TheRussians,alsowithgunsdrawn,exitedtheircar,stalledinthemiddleoftheintersection,andthefiringbegan.
Wordspreadfast.
Thathadbeenalmostfortyminutesago.NowChecroucheddowninthemouthofanearbyalley.SeveralotherEchoParkBandcamachosstoodaroundhim.Theywereallarmed.Adozenorsooftheirfriendshadshownup,andaboutthatmanyRussians.Theyshotroundafterroundateachother,buteveryonehadfoundcoverandnoneoftheirbulletsstruckhome.
“Whatdowedo,Che?”PepéVillaréalasked.“Weain’thittin’squat.”
“Iknow,ese,”Chesaid.“Lemmethink.”
“Ain’tmuchtimeforthinking,”GuillermoMontoyapointedout.“Listen.”
They’dbeenhearingdistantsirensforafewminutesnow,butthesirenswereclosingin.Thestutterofhelicoptersgrewnearer,too.
closingin.Thestutterofhelicoptersgrewnearer,too.
“Dude,Iknow!”Chesaid,agitated.Therewasnowaythiswouldturnintoabigvictoryforthem,andhewasgivinguponthatgoal.AllhewantednowwastoseeatleastoneRussianfallunderhisattackbeforethecopsshutthemdown.
Justone.
IfIcanholdmygunstillenoughtoshoot.
Hewasnervous,scaredreally.Hehadtolooktoughandsoundtough.Hell,hewastough.Butagunfightwasseriousbusiness.Peopledied.Chedidn’twanttobeoneofthosepeople.Notforthefirsttime,hethoughtaboutNickydelaNatividad,refusingtosharethesecretoftheNightoftheLongKnives.
Invulnerabilitywouldbehandyrightaboutnow,hethought.
“ThoseRussiancabronscan’tjustcomeintoourneighborhoodsandgetawaywithit,”Montoyacontinued.“Theygottobeputintheirplace.”
“Youwanttojustwalkoutthereandtellthemthat?”Cheaskedhim.“Theygotgoodcoveroverthere.Wegotcoverhere.It’sastandoff.”
“But—”
“Listen,”Cheinterrupted.“Thosesirensarealmosthere.Copswillbealloverthisintersectioninafewminutes.Maybethey’llflushsomeoftheRussiansout.Youseeanyofthemshowup,youletthemhaveit.Thenva-monos.Vanish.Yougottobeinvisible,dude.LettheRussiansgodown.”
Theotherguysnoddedtheirheads.Fromthecoverofthealley,theywaited.
Thehelicoptersarrivedfirst,bladeschoppingthenightairandspotlightswashingthestreets.Theguyspressedthemselvesflatagainstthewallwhenthelightshonedownthealley.
Fromabove,avoiceboomed.
“Everyonebelow,putdownyourweaponsandlayflatonyourstomachs.ThisistheLosAngelesPoliceDepartment.Putdownyourweaponsandlaydownwithyourhandsbehindyourheads.”
Villaréalaimedhisgunintotheair.
“Don’t,man!”Cheshouted,slappingathishand.“Youain’tgonnahitanything,butyou’llshowthemwhereweare.SaveitfortheRussians.”
Evenashespoke,acoupleofRussiansbrokefromthecoverofparkedcars,makingarunupthestreetinhopesofgettingawayfromtheintersectionbeforeitwassurrounded.Cheaimedhisnine.Hishandwassweating,makingithardtohangontothepiece.Heguessedthatwaswhytheypatternedthegrip,tomakeiteasiertoholdwithdamppalms.
Holdingtheguntootightbutunabletorelaxit,heledtheRussianbyafewsteps,andjerkedthetrigger.Thegunbuckedupandhisshotwentwild.Nexttohim,aboomtoldhimthatsomeoneelsewasshooting,too.Cheaimedagain,attheRussianwhowasnowrunninginacrouchedzigzagtopresentahardertarget.Hetriedtoanticipatewhichwaytheguywouldzignext,andfiredagain,thistimelettingoutabreathandrememberingtosqueezethetriggerinsteadofpullingonit.
Hisgunkickedafterthebulletwasfired.
TheRussianbuckledinthestreet.Twomorebulletsslammedintohim,makinghisbodyjerktwice.Thenitwasstill.
Chefoundhimselftremblinguncontrollably.Hecouldn’tisolatetheemotionthatcausedit.Hethoughtitwasalotliketerror,though.
Beforehecouldputmuchthoughtintoit,policecarsspedintotheintersection,disgorgingofficerscladinriotgearandcarryingshotguns.Cheandhisfriendsexchangedglances,andranupthealley,awayfromthecopsandthebattle.
Ablocklater,theywerestillrunning.AstitchhaddevelopedinChe’sside,buthefoughtit,pushedon.Hisshirtwassoakedwithsweat,andhecouldn’ttakeinenoughair.
Finally,hecametoahalt,bentoverandgaspingforbreath.PepéVillaréalgrabbedhimontheshoulder.
“Look,jefe,”hesaid.
Hewaspointingatsomething,aparkedcarnexttothestreet.
Hewaspointingatsomething,aparkedcarnexttothestreet.
“What,”Chesaid.“It’saLeSabre.”
“Underit,man,”Pepéinsisted.
Chelookedagain.Pepéwasright.Underneaththecartherewasastrangeshape.Someonehidingunderit,hethought.
“OneoftheRussians?”Cheasked.
“Probably,”Villaréalreplied.“Oneofourswouldn’tgounderacaronthisturf.Thisisourcountry—he’dgointooneofthehouses.”
“Yeah,”Cheagreed.“He’sprobablystrapped.”
“Maybe,”Montoyasaid.“Butthere’smoreofus.”Heaimedhisguntowardthecar.Cheputupahandtostophim.
“Wait,”hesaid.“Iwantonealive.”
Afteramoment’sdiscussion,thethreefannedout,surroundingthecar.Theyeachheldtheirgunslow,pointedattheshadowedformunderneathit.Chespoke.
“Wegotyou,man.Underthecarthere.There’sthreeofusandweallgotgunspointedatyou.Now,wejustwanttotalk,seeifthere’ssomewaywecannegotiateatruce.Butifyoumovefunnyorfireaweaponatus,thenwe’llkillyou.Yougotnowheretogo.Youhearme?”
“Ihearyou,”avoicefrombeneaththecarsaid.Itwasthicklyaccented.DefinitelyRussian,Chethought.Hesmiled.Ikilledonealready.Nextone’seasy.
“Throwoutyourstrap,”Cheinstructedtheguy.“Niceandslow.Justtossitawayfromthecar.”
Theguydidn’tacknowledgehim.
“Doitnow,”Chesaid.“Throwitawayfromyou,intothestreet.IfIcounttofiveandyouhaven’tdoneit,westartshooting.”
Theguystilldidn’tmove.Chebegantocount.
Beforehereachedtwo,theguyunderthecarhadskiddedaweaponintothemiddleofthestreet.Montoyascoopeditupandtuckeditintohisbelt.
“Comeonout,”Chesaid.“Slow,withyourhandswherewecanseethem.Weain’ttalkingwithyouunderthecar.”
“Okay,”theguysaid.“Icomeout.”Hepressedhishandsflatagainstthestreetandscootedoutonhisstomach.Cheandtheothersrusheduptohim,sobythetimehegottohisfeettheywerethere.Cheshovedhimupagainstthecarandpressedthebarrelofhisnineintotheguy’snose,tearingthefleshthere.
“Nowwe’lltalk,”Chesaid.
Chapter11
LosAngeles
KATELOCKLEYSTOODINTHEMIDDLEOFTHESTREET,serviceweaponheldatherside.LikeascenefromWestSideStory,thetwogangsvanishedintothenight,RussiansdisappearingtotheeastandMexicanstothewest.Theairstillstankofgunpowder,andsmokehungthicklyintheairlikefog,filteringthewhiteandredandyellowlightsfromthesquadcarsandambulancesthathadconvergedonthescene.Sirensstillwailed,andmorewerecomingfromvariouspoints.
MostofthecopsinLosAngeles,sheknew,werefocusedonthegangwar—tryingtodisarmthegangs,tryingtolocatetheirleaders,tryingtokeepinnocentsoutofthecrossfire.Hercasewassomethingdifferent—somethingsheknewwasasimportant,butwhichhadfallenoutofthepublic’seyewhenthebulletsstartedflying.Theparentsofthosemissingteens,though,werestillconcernedabouttheirchildren,andKatestillhadeveryintentionoftakingwhateverstepswerenecessarytobringthemhome.
Shedidn’tknowiftherewasanyconnectionbetweenthegangactivityandthedisappearances.SheknewAngelthoughttherewas—and,asmuchasshewasnoAngelfanthesedays,sheknewthathehadagoodsenseforthesethings.Hewasdespicable,avampire,acreatureofthenight,andhehadnotbeenhonestaboutitfromthebeginning...buthewasagooddetectiveandhisinstinctsweresound.Infairness,shecouldn’tdenythosethingsabouthim,eventhoughshedidn’tlikehim.
“Everythingokay,detective?”
Sheturned.ItwasapatrolofficernamedPerkinsshe’dmetacoupleoftimesbefore.Hewasthin,withredhairandabushyredmustache,andhisuniform
before.Hewasthin,withredhairandabushyredmustache,andhisuniformalwayslookedalittlelikeaHalloweencostumeonhim.
“Yeah,Perkins,fine,”shereplied.
“Whatamess,huh?”Henoddedatthebodiesontheground,thewoundedbeingtendedtobyparamedics.“Kidsareoutoftheirskulls.”
“Lookslikeit,”sheagreed.
“Whatmakes’emdothat?Runwithgangs,andall?Don’ttheyknowthey’regonnaendupdead?”
“Youcouldanswerthat,Perkins,youcouldbemayor.Governor.”
“Notme,Detective.I’mtooambitious.It’spresidentornothing.”Hegaveherawide,toothysmile.“Seriously,though,whatdoyouthink?”
Sheclosedhereyesforasecond,animageofherlatefatherflashingbeforethem.“Idon’tknow,Perkins.Iguess...Iguesssomekidsjustdon’tgetwhattheyneedfromtheirfamilies,youknow?Fromtheirparents.Theyfeelpowerless,theyfeelinvisible.Theyneedtogetthat,whatever,thatsenseofworth,someplace,andtheyfinditingangs.Doesn’tseemtomatteriftheyhavemoneyornot.It’saboutrespect,Ithink,aboutfindingaplacethatfeelslikehome.”
Perkinslookedather,maybealittlesurprisedatthethoughtfulnessofheranswer.“Couldbe,Iguess.Me,Ithinkit’sjustthattheyliketoshootgunsandstuff,maybe.”
Kateshrugged.“Hey,I’mnosociologist,butifyoudon’texpectmetoknowanything,IguessIcantalkaprettygoodgame.”
Hereturnedtheshrug.“Idon’tknow,Ithinkyou’reprettysmart.Mustbewhyyougetthebigbucks.”
“Yeah,”shelaughed.“Realbig.”
Shesmiledandwalkedawayfromhim,hopingshehadn’twastedtoomuchtimebeingsociable.Theblockwascrawlingwithcopsnow,mostlyclusteredinlittlegroupstalkingtoeachotheraboutthebattlethey’dbrokenup.Katewalkedthroughthem,makingeyecontactwithnoone,hopingnooneelsesawher.
throughthem,makingeyecontactwithnoone,hopingnooneelsesawher.She’dhadanidea,hadbeenjustabouttoputitintoeffectwhenPerkinshadinterruptedher.Nowshehadthoughtitthroughasfarasshewasgoingto,whichwas,sheknew,notfaratall.Ifshethoughtaboutit,shemightnotfollowuponit.
AssumingAngelisrightabouttheconnectionofthegangwartothedisappearingkids,shethought,andassumingthathislittletriptowho-knows-whereviaAlina’smachinedoesn’tpanout,thensomeoneisgoingtohavetogetleanedonhereinL.A.togetthosekidsback.TheRussiansmightknowbetterwho,orhow.Butthey’dbelessapttocooperatethantheMexicansmightiftheythoughtshe’dusewhatshegotfromthemtogoaftertheRussians.
Soshestruckouttowardthewest,aftertheMexicangang.
Onceshehadmovedoutofsightofthepolicecarsandthereassuringpresenceofblueuniforms,shefeltveryalone.Thestreetshereweredarkandquiet.Katewasagoodcop,andshedidn’tdoubtherowntoughness.Buteventhebestcop,aloneinenemyterritory,couldbecomeavictim.Beingtoughdidn’tmeanbeingblindtothetruth,andthetruthherewasthatshehadleftthesafetynetofherfellowofficersbehind—breakingoneofthefirstrulesanyrookiehaddrummedintoher.
Instead,shewasfollowingoneoftherulesherfatherhadinstilledinherasalittlegirl.
“Sometimesyougottamakeyourownluck,”TrevorLockleyhadtoldhisdaughter.Fromthetimeshewasverysmall,hehadsharedcopstorieswithher.Shehadlistenedbreathlesslytohisexploits,histalesofgoodguysandbadguys,hero-worshippingtheoldmanevenwhileothergirlssheknewdotedonpopstarsandscreenidols.“Weallhavetolivewithinthelaw,butthebadguys,theydon’talwaysfollowtherules.That’swhatmakesthembad.Sotocatchthem,sometimesyouhavetobendtherulesyourselfalittle.Youcan’talwayscountongettingaluckybreakwhenyouneedit,unlessyoudowhateveryoucantomakethatluckhappen,andthenkeepyoureyesopensoyou’llrecognizeitwhenyouseeit.”
Shesmiledatthememory,evenknowingwheretheywere—walkingonahikingpathinGriffithPark,onasunnysummerafternoon,eatingicecreambarstheyhadpurchasedfromavendorwithacart—whenhetoldittoher.Hehadillustratedthelessonwithastoryaboutahold-upmanhehadcaughtbybreaking
illustratedthelessonwithastoryaboutahold-upmanhehadcaughtbybreakingintothesuspect’sapartmentwithoutawarrant,findingtheevidencethatwouldconvicthim,andthenconfrontingthesuspectwiththecertainknowledgethathewasguilty.Theguyhadbrokendownandconfessed,andtheconfessionstuck.Thoseweredifferenttimes,Kateknew.Shecouldn’tgetawaywiththattoday,andwouldn’teventry.Butthebasiclesson—theideathatsometimesacophadtothinkoutsidethebox—hadstayedwithher.
Inthiscase,thinkingoutsidetheboxmeantputtingherselfinharm’sway,goingintogangcountrywithnobackupinthemiddleofaviciouswar,becausealonewomanmightbeabletopersuadesomeonetocooperatemoreeffectivelythanariot-suitedsquadwould.
Shescopedouttheblockbeforeher.Everystorefrontwasdarkandprotectedbymetalgrillework.Graffiticoatedbarewallsofbrickandstone.Cardboardcoveredbroken-outwindows,orducttapeheldthemtogetheratthecracks.Thegangmemberswhohadcomethiswayhadeitherfadedintothebuildingsorkeptgoing,astherewasnotasoulinsight.
Andthis,Kateknew,wasonlythefirstblockofseveralthatwerecontrolledbythelocalgang.Sheswallowed,fightingdownthefear.
Thiswasterritoryrarelyseenbyoutsiders.Whenthepoliceneededtocomehere,theydidsoincars,twoofficersatatime,andtheywereonthealertateverymoment.Lettingone’sguarddowncouldbesuicidal.
Katerealizedthatthesenseofsecuritycreatedbythefactthattherewasnoonevisibleonthestreetwasafalseone.Shecouldaseasilybegunneddownfrominsideabuilding,shotthroughanopenwindoworfromaparkedcar.Herhopewasthatshewouldnotbe—thatawomanwalkingalonethroughthesestreetsafterdarkwouldbeanobjectofcuriosityratherthanatarget.Sheworeplainclothes;therewasnowaythey’dknowshewasapoliceofficeruntilsheidentifiedherselfassuch.
Sheslowedatthecorner,pressedherselfagainstthebrickwallandputonlyherheadaroundtoseewhatmightbewaitingwhereshecouldn’tsee.Sheknewherfootstepshadechoeddownthequietstreets,soanyonearoundthecornerwouldknowshewascoming.Shewantedatleastafightingchanceatseeingthemthesametimetheysawher.
Andtherewassomeonethere.Threeyoungmen,wearingthebaggypantsand
Andtherewassomeonethere.Threeyoungmen,wearingthebaggypantsandmuscleshirtscommontogangmembersonmuggysummernights.Theirblackhairwasshort.Onesportedamustacheandabitoffuzzbeneathhislowerlip,whiletheothertwowereclean-shaven.Musculararms,broadshouldersanddeepchestsindicatedthattheyallworkedout.
TheyleanedagainstanoldFordtruckparkedbesidethecurb,abouthalfwaydowntheblock.Theysawherassoonasshepokedherheadaroundthecorner,soshesteppedforwardconfidently,walkingstraighttowardthem.Bestnottoletthemthinkshewasafraidofthem,sheknew.Fearwasweakness.
Silently,theywatchedherapproach.Shestoppedaboutsixfeetfromthem,putherhandsonherhips.Theonewiththefacialhairshiftedposition,spatintothegutter,andgrinnedather.Hehadagoldtoothinfront.
“’Sup,babe?”heasked.
“Iwaslookingforyou,”Katereplied.
“Forme?”
“Foranyofyou,really.Notyouinparticular.”
“BecauseIcouldbeofservicetoyou,youknowwhatImean,”hesaid.
“I’msureyoucan.”Nowthattheyweretalking,shewasn’tasafraid.Shestillunderstoodthatthesituationwasdangerous,butshethoughtshecouldcontrolit.“I’mreachingforabadge,”shesaid.“Notagun.”
“Aw,man,youacop?”oneofthemwhined.
“Youthinkanyoneelsewouldbestupidenoughtobracethreetough-lookinghombreslikeyou?”sheasked.Shedrewherbadgefromthepocketofhersilkjacket.“OfcourseI’macop.ButI’mnotlookingtobustanybody.”
“That’sgood,”Mustachesaid.Heseemedtobethenaturalleaderofthispack.“BecauseIdon’tseenobackupornothin’.”
“Don’tneedbackup,”Katetoldthem.“IfIwantedtotakeyoudown,I’dtakeyoudown.That’snotwhatI’mherefor.”
“Thenwhatareyouherefor,toughlady?”
“Thenwhatareyouherefor,toughlady?”
“Youpartofthelittledust-upbacktheretonight?”Sheinclinedherheadinthedirectionofthegangbattle,nottakinghereyesoffthesethreeforamoment.
“We’rejustpeacefulcitizenshavin’usadiscussionaboutcurrentaffairs,”Mustachesaid.Theothershowledwithlaughter.Katesmiled,too.
“Iliketoseethat,”shesaid.“Ireallydo.Informedcitizens.They’rethebestkind.ButwhatIreallyamlookingfor,see,aresomeguyswhowerepartofthatbattle,becauseI’mlookingtocomedownhardonsomeRussianMafiyatypes,andIneedsomeonewhocanpointmetotheirsafehouses,theirheadquarters.Idon’tsupposeanyofyouwouldknowwhomightbeexpertonthingstheRussianshavetohide?”
“Mama,”Mustachesaid,“ifyou’relookingtobustsomeofthosefreakin’Russians,youhavecometotherightplace.Meandmycholoshere,we’relike,expertsonthem.Infact,that’sthecurrenteventsweweretalkin’about—theSovietmenace.”
“Wellthen,”Katesaid,relaxingherstanceabitandputtingherbadgecasebackintothepocket.“Let’sjusthaveusalittlechat,shallwe?”
Sunnydale
“Wereallyoughttobegettinghome,”Gilessaid.
“Wereallynevershouldhavelefthome,”Xanderreplied.“Ordoesn’tthefactthatthecity’soverrunwithmonstersmeananythingtoyoupeople?”
“Themonstersarewhywe’reouthere,”Anyasaid.
“CanIjustremindyouwhattheword‘mortal’means,Anya?”Xandershotback.“Itmeansyoucannowbekilled.AndmeandGiles,well,we’vealwaysbeenmortal.Sothegettingkilledpart?Notsomethingwe’reunfamiliarwith.”
Theywerehalfwayacrosstown,havingheadedoutonpatrol,toseewhattheycoulddotocombattheplagueofmonstersoverwhelmingSunnydale.Monsterstheyhadfound,butthoughthey’dvanquishedafewofthem,thereseemedtobeapointofdiminishingreturns—theycouldn’tdestroyallofthem,andwhen
apointofdiminishingreturns—theycouldn’tdestroyallofthem,andwhenAnyahadmentionedJoyceandTara,alonebackatGiles’shouse,Gileshadsuddenlybecomeveryconcernedaboutthem.WhichwasfinewithXander,sinceitmeantheadingbacktotherelativesafetyofahousewithfourwallsandadoorthatlocked.
“Believeme,Iwakeupeverymorningknowingwhat‘mortal’means,Xander,”Anyasaid.“Somedays,Ieventhinkit’sagoodthing.ItmeansyouandIcangrowoldtogether,insteadofallalonelikeGilesis,and—”
“Excuseme,”Gilesinterrupted.“ButIamnot‘allalone,’nordoIthinkitwouldnecessarilybeabadthingifIwere.”
“Right,”Anyareturned.“OccasionalvisitsfromyourfriendOliviaforthepurposeofsexualgratificationwillcertainlypreventyoufrombecomingalonelyoldman.”
Xanderwasalmostgladforthedistractionofanothercreature,thisonesnakelike,exceptforthepartwherehehadahumanoidhead,neck,andshouldersgraftedontothebodyofatwenty-foot-longsnake.Itslitheredintoviewaroundthecornerandstopped,torsoraisedoffthesidewalk,bodyandtailslitheringandswitchingbehindit,staringatthemwithanunmistakablefireinitseyes.
“Itlookshungry,”Xanderpointedout.
“Yes,”Gilesagreed.“AndIimaginewelookmoreorlesslikelunch.”
“Itlooksrevolting,”Anyasaid.“Nottomentiondangerous.”
“Definitelythat,”Gilesreplied.Heheftedtheaxthathecarried.“But,fortunately,unarmed.Iexpectwecantakehimratherhandily.”
Thesnake-thingslitheredafewfeetclosertothem,thenopeneditsmouth.Along,reptiliantongueunfurledatthem.
“Nasty,”Xandercommented.HenoticedAnyadidn’tagree.Beforeanyofthemcouldact,thesnake-guyretracteditstongueandspatatthem.Agobofsomethingstruckthesidewalkdirectlyinfrontofthem.Whereitlanded,itfizzledforamoment,athinwispofsmokerisingintotheair.Whenthesmokecleared,Xandersawthatthecementofthesidewalkhadbeeneatenaway,asifbyapowerfulacid.
byapowerfulacid.
“Yousaid‘unarmed,’right?”
“PerhapsIwasabithasty,”Gilesallowed.
“Perhaps,”Anyaechoed.
Whenthatthinggetsourrange,Xanderthought,we’llbeSwisscheese.
Gilesapparentlythoughtthesamething.“Thismightbeacasewhendiscretionisthebetterpartofvalor,”heobserved.Hebackedupastep.XanderandAnyamimickedhim.
Thesnakematchedthem,slitheringforwardandthenstoppingandspittingagain.Theyhadstayedoutofitsrange,though,anditsacidicvenomstruckthesidewalkoncemore.
Glancingbehindthemtobesuretheyweren’twalkingintosomeothertrouble,Xandertookanothercoupleofstepsback.GilesandAnyafollowedsuit,noneofthemwillingtoturntheirbacksonthesnake-monster.
“Itdoesn’thavemuchdistance,”Gilespointedout.
“Andapparentlyitdoesn’tneedmuch,”Xandersaid.
“Sinceit’sgotenoughtokeepanyonefromgettingcloseenoughtoattackit.”
AnyanudgedXander’sshoulder.“Butwehaveacrossbow,”shesaid.
Xanderlookedinhisownrighthand.“Sowedo.”
“Souseitalready.”
HetriedtohandittoAnya,butshepusheditaway.
“Youuseit,”heinsisted.
“Xander,”Anyareplied.“Justdoit.”
Theyallkeptwalkingbackwardasthesnake-thingmovedtowardthem,spittingitsvenomonthesidewalk.
itsvenomonthesidewalk.
“Oh,forheaven’ssake,”Gilesfinallysaid,anoteoffrustrationinhisvoice.Hewaiteduntilthesnakewasmovingforwardagain,andchargedit,swinginghisaxinawidearc.Thesnake-monstersawhimcoming,andjerkedtoastop,liftingitsheadtospit.ButGileswasfaster,alreadyinmotion,andhisaxslicedcleanlythroughthething’sneck.Thedisturbinglyhuman-lookingheadspunaroundinflightbeforelandingagoodtwelvefeetaway,longtonguehanginglimplyfromitsmouth.Wherethetonguemetthestreet,theasphaltsizzledandburned.Thesnakebodytwitchedandwrithedafewtimes,thenfellsilent.
AnyaandXanderwatched,open-mouthed.
“Itquiteclearlycouldn’tmoveandspitatthesametime,”Gilestoldthem.“Itonlytookamomenttoobservethatitcoulddooneortheother,butnotboth.Ifyoubothhadn’tbeensobusyquibblingyoumighthavenoticedaswell.”
“Sorry,G-man,”Xandersaid.
“SomethingIhavenoticed,”Anyasaid.“We’vebeentalkinganddealingwiththatcreaturefor,what,fiveminutesormore?Andthat’stheonlymonsterwe’veseen.Nothingflyingoverhead,nothingskulkingdownthestreet.”
“Yes,that’squitetrue,”Gilesagreed.“Perhapsthey’rethinningoutabit?”
“That’swhatIwasthinking,”Anyasaid.
“I’mallforthat,”Xanderputin.“Thinningisgood.”
Sidesteppingthecreature’scorpse,whichseemedtobedissolvingalready,asifbeingeatenfromtheinsidebyitsownvenom,theycontinuedtheirtripbacktoGiles’s.Alongthewaytheyencounteredonlyasmallhandfulofmonsters,nothinglikethenumbersthey’drunintoearlier.Giles’stheory,muchtoXander’srelief,seemedtobetrue.Heelaboratedonitastheywent.
“Ifthemonsterswereindeedcomingintoourworld,ourdimension,asitwere,throughthoseportalsBuffyandRileydescribed,thenperhapstheportalsareclosed.It’squitepossiblethatwe’reseeinganendtotheinfestation—thataswedefeatthem,they’renolongerbeingreinforcedorreplacedfromwhateverdimensionspawnedthem.”
“Youjustkeeptheorizing,”Xandersaid.“Me,I’mjusthappywedon’thavetowadethrough’emtogethome.”
Spikewokeupnettedlikeafish.
Hemusthavebeenunconsciousforafewminutes,herealized,becausehiscaptorshadlandedtheirfreakysledsandthrownasilverynet,madeofsomesuperstrongyetwire-thinfilament,overhim.Theactofpullingittautaroundhimhadrousedhim.And,quitefrankly,tickedhimoffroyally.
Hetriedtostand,butoneofthemyankedonthenettingandhetumbledoverintothegrass.Hekickedandwrithed,tryingtobreakfree.Thenettingwastoostrong,though—evenwithhisvampiricstrengthhecouldn’ttearit.Ashetwistedinthegrass,theysurroundedhim,aimingweaponsathimthatlookedliketheycamefromthecoversofsciencefictionmagazines.
Thebearersofthoseweaponswerebasicallyhuman-looking,buttheirskinsheldastrangeorangecast,asifreflectingcoloredlights.Theiroutfitswereofashimmerymaterialthatlookedsimilartothenettingitself.Theyseemedtohavenofacialhairatall,andtheirclothingcoveredeveryinchoftheirbodies,fromfingerstothetopsoftheirheads,soasfarasSpikecouldtelltheywerecompletelyhairless.
Now,withhimsurrounded,theyallowedhimtogettohisfeet,stillconfinedwithinthenet,whichtheyheldontobylongcables.Spikeshookhishead,strainingagainstthenetting.Athisfullheightinsteadofonhisbackinthegrass,herealizedthathiscaptorswerebarelyfourfeettall,thesizeofsmallboys.“Icantakethelotofyou,”hesaid.“Justletmeoutofthisnettingforaminute.”Hetookasteptowardthem,andwasmetbyablastfromoneofthosefuturisticraygun-lookingweapons.
Apurplebeamemanatedfromitstip,andSpiketriedtododgeit,butthenetkepthimfrommovingfarenough.Hefroze.
Heremainedconscious,thoughhecouldfeelconsciousnessslippingawayasifhe’dbeendrugged,buthecouldn’tmoveamuscle.Rigidasastatue,hesawandheardthelittlemenapproach.
“Thisone’stainted,”oneofthemsaid.
“Right,”anotherreplied.“We’lltakeitbacktotheCenterandputittosleep.”
Thenhewashoistedbythreeofthemandcarriedtothesleds.
LosAngeles
Rileyheldhisgroundasthefourmenapproachedhimfromoutoftheshadows.
EitherthesearetheguysI’mlookingfor,orI’minforafight,hethought,musclestense,adrenalineraging.
Doesn’treallymakemuchdifferencetomeonewayoranother,atthispoint.
SinceBuffyhadleftthroughthedoorway,he’dbeenatlooseends—wantingtodowhathecouldtohelp,butknowingthatultimatelyshewasonherown,beyondtherangeofanyaidhecouldoffer.ShehadAngel,presumably,butthatwasn’tmuchcomforttoRiley.Heknew—knew—thatBuffywasoverAngel,butstillhecouldn’tcompletelyshaketheoldgreen-eyedmonsterthatrearedupwheneverhethoughtaboutthetwoofthemtogether.
I’ddoanythingforher,hethought.Ijusthavetohopesheknowsthat.
Thefourmenstoppedafewfeetfromhim,lookinghimupanddown.“Youlookalittlelost,”oneofthemsaid.“Misplacetherestofyourscouttroop?”“I’mlookingforGunn,”Rileysaid.
“Mightbeyourluckyday.Mightnot.Whyyouwanthim?”
“I’mafriendof...ofAngel.AndBuffy.MostlyBuffy.”
“TheSlayer?”themanasked.“Heardabouther.”
Anotherfiguredetacheditselffromtheshadowsandcametowardthem.“It’sokay,”thisonesaid.“He’scool.”
“Hi,Gunn,”Rileysaid.
“Whatbringsyouintothisneighborhood,Riley?”Gunnasked.“ThoughtyouwasbackinSunnydale.”
“IdecidedIwasneededmorehere.”
“Knowthefeeling.”GunntookRiley’shandinhisstronggrip.“Sowhat’sup?”
Rileysmiled.“Ithoughtyoumightbeabletohelpme.Ineedtobreaksomeoneoutofjail.”
Gunnsmiled,too.
Chapter12
THETOWERSTAIRSWOUNDUPANDUPANDUP.
“Howhighdidyousaythistowerwas?”Angelasked.
“Ididn’tsay,”Buffyreplied.“Butfromtheoutside,itdidn’tlookthishigh.”Thestepswerebuiltfromthesamegraystoneastherestoftheplace.Theywerenarrowandshort,worndownfromcenturiesofuse,sothestonewasslickandtreacherous.Thewallswereroughrockexceptwheregenerationsofhandshadsmoothedoutalineataboutwaistheight.
“Idon’tlikethiskindofstaircase,”Buffysaid.Shekeptmovingonefootinfrontoftheother.Theseshort,unevensteps,somebarelytwoorthreeincheshigh,wereharderthantaller,regularones.“HaveIevermentionedthat?”“Idon’tthinkso,”Angelreplied.Shecouldn’tseehim,butsheheardhisascent,rightbehindher.She’dratherbeabletoseehim,giventhebizarrenatureofthiscastle,butthestaircasewassocrampedthatifshecouldseehim,he’dberightontopofher,leavinghernospacetoclimb.
“Well,Idon’t.Justsoyouknow.”
“I’llkeepitinmind.”
“IheardtheStatueofLibertyislikethis.Youknow,inthetorch?Idon’tknowifit’strue...”
“Idon’teither.”
“...butifitis,Idon’teverwanttogoupthere.GoodviewofNewYork,butIcangetthatfromanairplaneifIreallywantit,right?Andanyway,NewYork?Isn’ttheappealmostlyindoorsanyway?”
Isn’ttheappealmostlyindoorsanyway?”
“Indoors?”
“Youknow,”sheexplained.“Broadwayshows,movies,nightclubs.Museums,Iguess.Allthatculturalstuff.NobodygoestoNewYorkforthescenery,dothey?”
“Ineverhave.”“See?Andyou’vedoneeverything.”“Noteverything.”“Okay,”sherelented.AmIbabbling?shewondered.
Babbling’snotgood.Butthen,neitheristhisstaircasetoheaven,whichissonotgoodit’skindoffreakingmeout.
“It’s‘stairway,’isn’tit?”sheasked.“Whatis?”
“Oh.Nevermind.Thinkingoutloud.Idothat.”“I’venoticed.”
Whatdidhemeanbythat?Nothingsinister,shefigured.Iwasbabbling.Havetoknockthatoff.
Shekeptclimbing.Thestairsthatneverend.
“Angel?”
“Yeah?”hisvoicedriftedupfrombelow.
“WasIbabbling?”
“Idon’tthinkso.Maybe.”
“BecauseIwasn’ttryingto.Babble,Imean.”
“Okay.”
Sheheardhisfootfallsbehindher.Everynowandthenhe,likeshe,slippedontheslickedgesofoneofthesteps,andhisfootmadeascuffingnoise.
Thenhisfootfallssoundedlikethoseofalion,fourlegspaddingquicklyupthestairs.Sheheardthechuffofalion’sexhale.
“Angel?”
“Yes?”
“Justchecking,”shesaid.
Notalion,then.That’sgood.
Butitworriedherthatshehadthoughthemightbealion.HehadbeenAngelwhentheystartedupthestairs.TherewerenosidepassagesforAngeltogooutandaliontocomein.Therewasonlyup,whichtheyweregoing,anddown,whichtheywerenot.
“Angel?”
“Buffy?”
“Doyouthink—nevermind.”
“No,whatisit?”
“Doyouthinkthatastaircasecandrivesomeonecrazy?”
Hewasquietforamoment,exceptforthecontinuingsoundofhisfeetonthesteps.“No,”hesaidfinally.
“Howsureareyou?”sheasked.
“Notvery,”headmitted.“ButifIhadtoguess,I’dsaythatmaybesomethinginthestaircasecouldmakesomeonelight-headed.Maybeevenhallucinate.Lackofoxygen,orsomething.Why?”
“Noreason,”shesaid.
Shekeptclimbing,everwindingtotheright.
Behindher,followingherupthestairs,washerfather.Hewasgettingtiredofclimbing,though,andwantedtojustsitdownandslideallthewaytothebottom.
“Don’t!”shecried.
“Don’twhat?”Angelasked.
“Angel.It’syou.”Buffystopped.Amomentlater,Angelcameintoview.
“Ofcourseit’sme.Areyouokay,Buffy?”
“Yes.Imean,Idon’tknow,”shesaid.“Ithoughtyouwerealion,thenIthoughtyouweremydad.Arethesestairsmakingmecrazy?”
Angelheldherforamoment.Shelikedthefeelingofhisstrongarmsaroundher,butshebrokeawayafteraminute.
“Thanks,”shesaid.“I’mokay.”
“We’vegottobeprettyhighup,”Angelobserved.“Maybethereisalackofoxygenuphere.Maybetheair’soldandstale.”
“Butit’sonlyaffectingme?”
Angeltappedhischest,wherehislungswere.“Vampire,”heremindedher.
“Oh,right.”
“Youwantmetogoonalone?”heaskedher.“Maybeyoushouldwaithere.”
Buffyshookherhead.“I’llbefine,”sheinsisted.“Justdon’tturnintoanything.”
“Idon’tdothat,”heassuredher.
“Evenbyaccident,don’t.”
“Buffy,”hesaid.Thennothingforawhile.“Buffy!”
Sheblinked.Hewasstaringather,hisheadrightinfrontofherface.Hishandswereonhershoulders.Helookedworried.
“What?”
“Wherewereyou?”heasked.
“I’mrighthere.”
“I’vebeenstandingherecallingyourname,”hesaid.“Foratleastaminute.Youwerefrozenthere,likeastatue.”
werefrozenthere,likeastatue.”
ThisnewssentachillthroughBuffy.Thisplacereallyismakingmecrazy,shethought.“I...Idon’tknow,”shesaid.“IguessIjustblankedoutforasecond.Shouldn’twebeclimbing?”
“I’mworriedaboutyou,Buffy.Ithinkyoushouldgobackdown.”
“Butthere’ssomeoneuptherewhoneedsus,”sheargued.“Theprincess.”
“Idon’twantyouhurt,”Angelsaid.
“I’mokaynow,Angel.Reallyandtruly.I’mback.”
“Ifyoustarttofeelstrangeagain,youletmeknow,”hedemanded.
“Promise,”shesaid.Sheturnedawayandresumedherclimb.
Behindher,sheheardAngelcontinueaswell.
“YournameisBuffySummers,”hesaid.
Buffy.Summers.
“YourmomisJoyceSummers.”
Joyce.
“YourdadisnamedHank.”
Hank.
“YouliveinSunnydale,California.”
Sunnydale.
“At1630RevelloDrive.”
1630.Sheclimbed.Thestairswoundonforever.
“Youwerebornin1981.”
1981.
“You’retheChosenOne.TheSlayer.”
Slayer.
Shecamearoundabend,andsuddenlytheclimbwasover.Atthetopofthestairstherewasadoor.Itlookedincrediblyold.Itwasbuiltofthreewideboards,bandedtogetherwithrustediron.Abiglock,alsorusted,hungfromahasp.Itlookedlikeithadn’tbeenopenedincenturies.
Amomentlater,Angeljoinedheronthelanding.
“Lookslikewemadeit,”hesaid.
“Angel?”Buffysaid.Shewassmiling.Helookedather,hisfaceaquestionmark.“Yourememberallthat?”
“Iremember,”hesaid.“Youwouldn’tbelievethethingsIremember.”
Shetouchedhisarm,thenturnedbacktothedoor.“Endoftheline,”shesaid.“Everybodyoff.”Shepoundedonthedoor.“Anybodyinthere?”
“OhGod,yes!”avoicecriedfromtheotherside.Thevoicewasyoung,high-pitched,feminine.“Getmeout,please!”
“We’recoming,”Angelsaid.“Standawayfromthedoor.”
“Kicking?”Buffyasked.
“Iwasthinkingkicking,”Angelreplied.
“Worksforme.”
Together,theyrearedbackanddrovetheirrightfeetintothedoor.Itsplinteredandflewfromthehinges,crashingtothefloorintheroombehind.
Agirlstoodthere,handsinfrontofherface.Shewasatinything,wearingablueman’sshirtthatwaswaytoobigforher.Whenshetookherhandsaway,herfacelookedlikeshe’dbeencryingfordays.
“Are...areyou...?”
“Are...areyou...?”
“We’reheretohelp,”Angelsaid.
“Myname’sBuffySummers,”Buffytoldher.“That’sAngel.Wecametogetyououtofhere.You’renotfromLosAngeles,byanychance?”
Tearssprangfromthegirl’seyes,butBuffythoughttheylookedlikehappytears,thistime.Throughthetears,shestudiedthem.“Angel?”sheasked.
“That’sright,”heconfirmed.
“Cordelia’sfriend?”
“Yes.YouknowCordelia?”
“Myname’sKayley,”thegirlsaid.“KayleyMoser.”Sheburiedherfaceinherhandsagain,sobbing.Angelputahandonhershouldertocomforther,andBuffystrokedherarm,railthinunderthebigshirt.
“Shetoldmeaboutyou,”Angelsaid.“We’reheretohelp.”
Afewminuteslater,theystarteddownthestairs,Buffyinthelead,thenKayley,withAngelbringinguptherear.Buffycouldn’thelpsmiling.
Onedown,shethought.It’salldownhillfromhere.
TheXterrabumpedandbouncedoverthedesertlandscape.Mischaworriedeverytimeheranintooneofthethickerbushesortallercacti,andhefeltbadforthepathofdestructionheleft.Butheneededtoputsomespacebetweenhimselfandthehighwaypatrolman.Hekepthopinghe’dcomeacrossadirtroad—thiscross-countrystuffisgettingold,hethought.ButatleasttheHighwayPatrolcarscan’tfollowmeoverthis.
Evenwiththeheadlightson,hecouldn’tseewellenoughtoreallychartacourse,sohejustkeptitheadedawayfromthegasstationuntilhecouldnolongerseethelights,thenheturnedinthedirectionhethoughtArizonawas.
Finally,hishighbeamspickedoutatallelectricaltower.Wiresstretchedfromitinbothdirections.Hereasonedthattherehadtobesomekindofaccessroadwaynearitformaintenancevehicles.Sohebouncedandbuckedtowardit,andfound
nearitformaintenancevehicles.Sohebouncedandbuckedtowardit,andfoundthathewasright.Theroadwasruttedandwashboard,butitwasaroad,andthereforebetterthancuttingthroughthebrush.Comparedtowhathehadbeendoing,itwasalmostcomfortable.
I’mgoingtomakeit,hethought.I’mreallygoingtodothis.Don’tworry,Alina,I’llbetheresoon.
Thenherememberedthathehadtoshieldhisthoughts,incaseAlina’sparentswerescanningforhim.Itwouldn’tdotoletthemknowwherehewasheaded.
HetriedtothinkofthebeachinSantaMonica,inthesummertime.Hundreds,maybethousands,ofsweatingbodies,jammedtogetherontowelsandbeachchairs,bakinginthesun.Musicplayingfromhundredsofdifferentradios.Thescentsofsuntanlotionandsoftdrinksandpicniclunchesandsaltwaterallminglingtogether.Thesteadyrumbleofwavesdrownedoutbytheshoutsofchildren,thehappylaughterofyoungcouples,theorganizedchatterofvolleyballorFrisbeegames.Thefwup-fwup-fwupofhelicopters...
That’snotright,heknew.Heforcedthebeachfromhismind,listened.Definitelya’copter,andnotfaraway.Hekilledthelights,broughttheSUVtoasuddenstop,skiddingalittleonthesoftsand.Heopenedthedoor,slammeditshutagain,andturnedoffthedomelight.Thenheopeneditagainandclimbedoutontotherunningboard,lookingtowardthesky.
Theretheywere.Twoofthemcombedthedesert,shiningbrightlightsdowntowarditsfloor.Cominghisdirection.
I’monaroad,hethought.Themoon’sbright.Icanrunwithoutlightsforawhile,putsomedistancebetweenthemandme.Icandothis.
Heploppedbackdownbehindthewheel,turnedthekey.Theenginesputteredanddied.Heturneditagain.Aclick.Hetriedoncemore.Anotherclick.
Hegotout,walkedaroundtheSUV.Therewereseveralbulletholesinit,andhisstomachsank.Heclimbedinagain,turningthekeyfarenoughtoturnontheelectricalsystem.ThegasgaugelinewasontheEandthelittlegaspumpiconwaslitup.Inhishaste,hehadn’tevennoticed.Thetankhadbeenfull,backwhenhe’dstolenthecar.Oneofthebulletsmusthavepuncturedthetank,hethought.I’vebeenleakinggasalloverthedesert.
Onthebrightside,itdidn’tblowmeup.
Thehelicoptersclosedin.
Mischaknewthevehiclewouldbenomorehelp.Andanyway,he’dbehardertospotonfoot.Asthehopelessnessofthesituation,thecertaintythathe’dfailedAlina,weighedinonhim,hestruckoutacrossthedesert,withonlythelightofthemoontoguidehim.
LosAngeles
WesleybrakedthePlymouthBelvedereoutsidetheVishnikoffhome.“Thereyouare,”hesaid.
“We’llwaithereuntilyou’reinside,”Cordeliaadded.“Justincase.”
“Thankyou,”Alinasaid.“Foreverything.”Sheclimbedfromthecar,theRealityTracerclutchedagainstherside.
“We’llbefine,”Willowsaid.“Butthanksfortheliftand,youknow,theconversation.”
“Oh,notroubleatall,”Wesleysaid.“I’mjustsorrywecan’tstay,butyouknow.Dutycalls.”
HehadtoldthemthatheandCordeliawereontheirwaytolocateatransdimensionaldemonthey’donceknown,inthehopesthatthisdemoncouldhelpwiththewholeideaofportalsanddoorways.Alinahadtriedtoconvincethemthatitwasuseless—thattheAlternitieswerenotsimplyseparatedimensions,butseparaterealities.“Islike,whatisAmericanmetaphor?”sheasked.“Applesandbananas?”
“Oranges,”Cordeliasaid.“ButIgettheidea.”
“Still,”Wesleychimedin.“We’vegottotryeverythingwecan.”
“Verywell,”Alinarelented.“Youtrythat.”
Nowshecrossedtheyardtoherparents’house,accompaniedbyWillow,Nicky
andtheFloresfamily.WesleyandCordeliahaddecidedthey’dbesaferstayingwiththeVishnikoffsthanwaitingaloneinherapartment.Plus,shehadthought,IwanttohaveanapartmentwhenIgetback.AlinahadsmiledatCordelia’sthoughtprocesses.
Inside,someofthestafftookWillow,NickyandtheFloresestoaroomwheretheycouldwait—andWillowcouldperformtheritualthatwouldprepareNickytogothroughaportal,thoughtheyweren’ttellingthestaffthat—andherparentscameintoherworkroomtoseeher.Shepointedatthemachine,restingonitsusualtable,andspokeinEnglishjusttoupsetthem.
“Tracerisbroken,”shesaid.“Fix,please.”
HerfatherrespondedinRussian.Hisfistswerejammedintohispockets.“Soyoucanstealitagain?”
SheswitchedtoRussiannowtoo.“SoIcanrepairsomeofthedamageI’vedone.”
“Repair?”hermotherasked.“Whatdoesthatmean?”
“I’vetornapartfamilies,”Alinaexplained.“I’vemadeparentslosetheirchildren.I’vemadepeopledisappear.”
“FortheState,”herfatherdeclared.
“WhatState?”sheasked.Shefelttearswellingupinsideher,andshewantedtomakehercasebeforeshecried.“ThereisnoState!You’relivinginthepast,bothofyou.DreamingofSovietglory!Wakeup!TheSovietUnionisgone!Nothingyoudowillbringitback!”
“Ourplanwillwork,”herfatherinsisted.“Americanswillcooperatewithustogettheirchildrenback.”
“Americansmightgiveyoumoney,”Alinacountered.“Dollars,that’sall.Isthatwhatyouwant?”
“Dollarsarepowerful.It’swhattheyrespect,”hermotheroffered.
“Buttheywon’tbuyacountrythatdoesn’texist.”
“WiththemoneyandAmericansupportwecan—”
“YouneedmorethanjustAmericansupport,”Alinasaid.“Youdon’tevenhaveRussiansupport!”
“Ofcoursewedo,”hermothersaid,hervoicestern.Hermotherhadalwaysbeenthedrivingforceinthepartnership,Alinaknew.Herfatherhadbeensmart,technically.He’dunderstoodthetheory,andhehadbeenabletoapplyittothemachine.Buthermotherhadmanipulatedhispurposes,hisreasonforcontinuingtheresearch.Shewasthepoliticalone.Hewassimplyhertool.“Youdon’tknow.Youaren’tinthemeetingswehave,thelongconversations—”
Alinacutheroffagain.“Idon’thavetobe,”shesaid.“Icanheartheirthoughtsjustfineafterthemeetings.Whentheycometoseehowthingsaregoing.Outinthestreet,atthebakerywhereMischaworks.Anywheretherearepeoplewhoknowaboutyourplan,Iknowwhattheythinkofit.”
“Andwhatdotheythink,smartgirl?”herfatherexploded.“Theythinkit’sprettydamnsmart!”“TheythinktheAmericanswillpaymoney,”Alinareplied.Shewasshakingwithangerandcouldn’treinitin.
“Theylikethatpart.That’salltheywant,justthemoney.Iusedtotellmyselfthatthey’dgoalongwithit,thatthey’dbehappywhentheSovietUnionwasrestored.Thatyouwerebothgeniuses,andeverybodywouldseeitwhenthingscametogether.ButIwaskiddingmyself.”
“Yourfatherisagenius,”hermothersaidsimply.
“Yes,andsoareyou.Butyou’rebothblind.Allthesepeoplearoundyouwantisthemoney.They’recriminals,”Alinainsisted.“Theyprotectyou,protectyourpreciousmachineandyournotsopreciousdaughter,becausetheyknowitwillpayoffintheend.NotinanewSovietState,justindollars!Oncetheyhavethemoneythey’llforgetyoueverexisted.”
“Idon’tbelieveyou,”herfathersaid.Hestartedforthedoor.
“Don’tgooutthatdoor,”Alinawarned.
“Whynot?”
Alinacouldn’tanswerhim.Therewasnothingshecoulddotohimnow,no
Alinacouldn’tanswerhim.Therewasnothingshecoulddotohimnow,nothreatshecouldmake.Hehadspenthislifewantingonething,andshehadalreadytoldhimshewouldnevergiveittohim.Shetriednevertohearherparents’minds,andtheywereskilledenoughtoblock,anyway.Butasenseofdefeatrolledoffhimlikewavesrollingfromthesea.
“Justfixit,”shesaid.“Itisn’ttoolatetomakethingsrightagain.”
ValeryaandAlexisVishnikofflookedateachother.Theyweresilent.Finally,Valeryashruggedandwalkedfromtheroom.Alexislookedathisdaughteragain.Sheknewwhathewouldsaybeforehesaidit.
“Getoutoftheway.Howdoyouexpectmetofixitwithyoustandingthere?”
Alinaretreatedtoacorner,pressedherbackintoitandsatdownonthefloor.Ithadbeenawhilesinceshe’dtriedtoreachMischa.Asmuchtoretreatfromherfather’spresenceasanythingelse,shesummonedupamentalimageofherfriendandlistenedforhim.
“...failedAlina...”sheheard.
Mischa!
Inhermind,shecriedouttohim.
Andwhensheknewheheardher,shebegantoweep.
Chapter13
THEWARWAGONROLLEDTOASTOPINTHEDARKNESSOFAbackroad,aquartermilefromtheYorbaLindaRanch,justovertheSanBernardinoCountylinefromLosAngeles.RileyfeltlikehewasonanotherInitiativemission,exceptthatthemenandwomenofGunn’screw,whileseeminglyasbraveanddisciplinedasanysoldiershe’deverknown,wereanythingbutmilitaryindressandappearance.
HeclimbedfromthetruckandmetGunninback,wherehewasalreadyunrollingachartonthetruck’sbed.Someoneelse—Chain,Rileythoughttheguy’snamewas—heldaminiMagliteonthechartforillumination.
Gunnpointedtoabuilding.“ThisiswhereFaithisbunked,accordingtowhatwehearfrominside,”hesaid.RileyhadbeenamazedthatGunnhadbeenabletofindoutsomuchsoquickly,justbymakingafewphonecalls.ButGunnwastappedintothecity’sstreets,andmanyofthoseonthestreetshadputintimeinside,hefigured.“There’sfortywomeninthisunit,”Gunncontinued.“Lightshavebeenoutforacouplehoursnow,sohopefullythey’reallasleep.”HeturnedtoRiley.“Riley,youknowFaith,soyougottabethefirstfaceshesees,tomakesureshedon’tfreakandstartyellingorsomething.Anyoneraisesashoutwhilewe’reinthere,it’sallover.”
“Okay,”Rileyagreed.“Butfirstwe’vegottogetinthere.”Heindicatedlinesonthemap.“Thisistheouterfence,right?”
“Twelvefeettall,razorwireatthetop,electric,”Gunnsaid.
“Howmanyguards?”
“Twoguardswalktheperimeterconstantly.Takesthirtyminutestomakethecircuit.Otherwise,thereareguardsinthetowersatthesecornersoftheinside
circuit.Otherwise,thereareguardsinthetowersatthesecornersoftheinsidewall,”hepokedafingeratfourpointsonthemap,“withsearchlights.Theymayormaynotbelookingatanypointonthefenceatanytime.”
“Nobodysaidthiswouldbeeasy,didthey?”Rileyasked.
“NotthatIheard.”
“Good.Becauseitwon’tbe.”
RileycouldseeGunn’ssmileinthedark.“Easy’sforsuckers.”
“Gladyoufeelthatway.”
Theymovedouttowardthefirstfenceinaline,spacedadozenfeetapartexceptforRileyandGunntogetheratitshead.Bothheldsectionsofwoodenbroomstick,notchedatoneend.Gunncarriedaboltcutterwithrubbergripsaswell.
TwentyfeetfromthefencetheymetPike,whohadbeenstandinglookoutsincethey’darrived.
“Thoughtyou’dnevergethere,”Pikewhispered.
“Status?”Gunnasked.
“Guardscameby...”Pikelookedathiswatch.“Sevenminutesago.”
“Twenty-threeminutestogetin,getthegirl,andgetout,”Gunnsaid.
“Whatarewestandingaroundfor?”Rileyasked.HeandGunncontinuedtowardthefence.Theothershungback,stillspacedouttomakeaccidentaldetectionlesslikely.
Thefencewasastandardlinkfence,strungbetweentallsteelpoles,withtherazorwireGunnhadmentionedstrungacrossthetop.Rileyputahandclosetothelinksandsworehecouldfeeltheelectricalfield.
“Looksprettytight.”
“Whywebroughtthese.”Gunnhelduptheboltcutter.Hekneltnexttothefence’sbase,placedthecuttingbladesaroundasectionoftheheavyfencewire.
fence’sbase,placedthecuttingbladesaroundasectionoftheheavyfencewire.“Keepaneyeout.”
“I’mwatching,”Rileysaid.“Nomovementinthetowers.They’resleepingorplayingcardsorsomething.”
“Noworkethicanymore,”Gunnwhispered.“Bethedownfallofmodernsociety.”Heclippedthewireandmovedontothenextsection.Therewasasparkwhenhisboltcuttertouchedthefence,buttherubbergripskepthimsafe.
Afteramoment,thefencehadbeencutinenoughspotstomakeitnotastautatthebottomasithadbeen.RileyandGunninsertedtheirbroomsticksections,catchingthewireinthenotches,andraisedthebottomofthefenceacoupleoffeethigher.Jammingtheotherendsofthesticksintothedirt,theycreatedaspacethreefeetacrossandtwohighthatpeoplecouldslideunder.
“Cake,”Gunnsaid.
“Freeze,”Rileyhissed.Hehadspottedsomemotioninthetowerofftotheirright.Aguardappearedattheopening,lookingoffintothedistance.GunnandRileybothstoodstockstill,waitingandhoping.Apparentlytheguarddidn’tseeanythingamiss,andhedidn’tbeamthesearchlightdownonthem.Afteranothermomentheturnedaway.
“Okay,”Rileywhispered.“Let’sgo.”
Hedroppedtohisstomachandcrawledunderthefence.Gunncamerightbehindhim.AtGunn’ssignal,twomoreofhiscrew,onemaleandonefemale,camerunningoutofthedarkness,dropped,andcamethroughthefence.Gunnheldupahand,signalingtheotherstowaitwheretheywere.
Therewasnomorediscussionfornow.Theywereinsidethefirstobstacle,butthereweremoretogo,andwitheverymomenttheirchancesofbeingdiscoveredgrew.RileyknewthatGunnunderstoodthis,andhedidn’tseemtocare.WhenhefoundoutthepurposewastohelpAngelandBuffy,he’dbeenmorethanwillingtodowhateverittook,regardlessoftherisk.
WhatisitaboutAngelthatinspiresthatkindofloyalty?hewondered.Buffyhasittoo—herfriendswouldlaydowntheirlivesforherinasecond.AndhowdoIgetsomeofthat?
Notimetothinkaboutthatnow,herealized.Theycrossedawideno-man’slandbetweentheouterfenceandtheinnerwall.Thewall,heknew,wouldbeachallenge.Itwastenfeettallandwell-lit,theguardtowerswererightonit,andonecouldn’tcutthroughitwithaboltcutter.Gunnhadclaimedtohaveasolutiontotheproblem,buthehadn’ttoldRileywhatitwas.Betterputitintoplay,ifitexists,Rileythought.We’rehere.
Theystoppedatthebaseofthewall.Itwasbuiltofwhitewashedcinderblocks,andwastallerthanRileycouldreach.Lightsplashedoverthetopofit.Theprisonofficialswereconcernedaboutpeoplebreakingout,notin,sosecurityeffortsweremostlydedicatedtowatchingtheinsidesofthewallsandfencesratherthantheoutsides.
Still,Rileyfeltuncomfortable.Fromthisanglehecouldn’tevenseeinsidethetowerlookouts.Therecouldbeautomaticweaponsbeingpointedatthemallrightnow,andhewouldn’tknowituntilleadbegantofly.WhereisGunn’ssolution?
GunntappedRileyontheshoulder.“Bestcoveryourears,”hesaidsimply.
Rileydidso.Amomentlater,adeafeningsirenbegantowailfrominsidetheprison.
“We’vebeenspotted!”hesaid,alarmed.
“Chill,”Gunnassuredhim.“It’scalledadiversionarytactic.”
“Thisisadiversion?Alertingthewholeplace?”
“Toanincident—afight—ontheotherendofit.Everyone’llbepayingattentiontothat,andnottous.”
Rileyshookhishead.“Ihopeyou’reright.”
“Trustme,dog,”Gunnsaidcasually.Hemadeacradlewithhishands,andRileysteppedintoit.Gunnboostedhimup,andhegotagriponthewall’stop,hoistinghimselfup.
Inside,hecouldseeguardsrunningawayfromthewall,betweenlow-slungbuildings.HeglanceddownatGunn.“Looksgood,”hesaid.“They’releavingthisareaasfastastheycan.”
thisareaasfastastheycan.”
“Won’ttakelongtostopthefight,”Gunnsaid.“Thenthey’llbecomingbacktotheirposts.Wegottohurry.”Rileypulledhimselftothetopofthewallanddroppeddowntheotherside,fullyawarethathelandedinthewashoffloodlights.Hehitthegroundashelanded,knowingthatapronefigurewashardertospotthananerectone.
Amomentlater,Gunnfollowed,andthenthewomanwhohadaccompaniedthem.Thefourthone,withnoonetoboosthim,remainedontheothersideofthewall.
“Riley,thisisSheila,”Gunnsaid.“Sheila’sbeenherebefore.”
“Gotit,”Rileysaid.Nothinglikeanex-contoguideusthroughaprison,hefigured.
“Thisway,”Sheilasaid,barelyacknowledginghisexistence.
Bigonmanners,too,Rileythought.Buthefollowedher,movingatahalf-crouchawayfromthewall.Thediversionhadworked,though;noonepaidtheleastattentiontoanythinghappeningatthisendoftheprisonfarm.
Thebuildingsweresinglestoried,withdoorsatbothendsandbarredwindowsliningthewalls.Evenwiththeshrillsirensshriekingthroughthenight,lightsremainedoffinsidethebuildings.Rileyfiguredtheywereprobablyontimers,andcouldonlybeturnedonduringlights-outhoursfromsomecentralcontrolpanel.
Mercifully,thesirensstoppedastheymovedbetweenthedarkbuildings.“Somuchforanyoneinsidebeingasleep,”Rileysaidquietlyinthesuddenstillness.
“Theymaynotbeasleepbutthey’llbeintheirbeds,”Sheilawhispered.“Duringanalert,anyonegetsouttheirbedfindsherselfinalotofgrief.Andyou’dbesurprisedwhatthesegirlscansleepthrough.”
“I’lltakeyourwordforit,”Rileysaid.
SheledthewaytothebuildingGunnhadpointedoutonthemap.Therewasabignumber17paintedonthebuilding’sside.“That’sit,”Sheilaannounced.“Doorsarelockedatnight.”
“Noproblem,”Gunnsaid.Hefishedinhispocketsandcameoutwithadevicethatlookedalmostlikeaflashlight.Carryingittothelockontheneardoorofunit17,hehelditagainstthelockandpushedabutton.Therewasaquietwhirringnoise.Afteramoment,heremovedit.
“Afteryou,”hewhisperedwithabow.Thedoorswungopen.Hetuckedthethingbackintohispocket.“Iliketothinkofitasamasterkey,”hesaid.
SheilaandRileywentintotheunitwhileGunnstoodguardatthedoor.Tworowsofbunks,twohigh,flankedacentralwalkway.Theonlyilluminationcamethroughthescreened,barredwindows.Riley’sguesshadbeenright—inthefaintlight,hecouldseethatmostofthewomenherewereawake,staringathimandSheilawithundisguisedinterest.
“Sheila,”oneofthemsaid.“Youbroughtusapresent?”
“Hush,”Sheilasaid.“WelookingforsomeonenamedFaith.”
“Faith?Bunkthirty-six,”thewomansaid.Sheroseupontooneelbow,examinedRileyclosely.“Yousurehecan’tstayandplay?”
“Sorry,”Rileysaid.“We’rekindofonatightschedule.”
“Whattheyallsay,”thewomansaid.Shedroppedbackontoherbunk.“Youwon’tfindFaithinherbunk,though,”sheannounced.“She’sinsolitary.”
SheilaandRileyturnedaroundandwalkedoutoftheunitwithoutanotherword.Gunnlookedatthemquizzicallyastheycameoutalone.
“Solitary,”Sheilaexplained.“Girl’sbeenbreakingtherules.”
“Faith?”Rileyadded.“Imaginethat.”
“Leadtheway,”Gunnsaid.
Sheilatookthemthroughthemazeofbunkhousestothesolitaryblock.Itwasalonebuilding,standingnexttotheinnerwall.Onenarrowwindow,placedhighupinitsadobewall,providedtheonlyillumination.Nexttothewindowwasadoor.Infrontofthedoorstoodanarmedguard.
“Youorme?”Gunnasked.
“Youorme?”Gunnasked.
“I’lldoit,”Rileyoffered.Hehadbeenhopingthey’dbeabletodothiswithouthurtinganyone.Thesepeoplewerejustmenandwomendoingajob,afterall,andtheywereonthesideofthegoodguys.
ButheneededFaith,andFaithwasbehindthatdoor.
Hesteppedoutoftheshadows,walkingpurposefullytowardtheguardasifhehadsomebusinessthere.Theguardnoticedhim,loweredhisriflesothatthebarrelpointedatRiley.“Whoareyou?”hedemanded.
“Whateverhappenedto‘whogoesthere?’”Rileyasked.“Notgoodenoughforyou?”
“Don’tmakemeaskitagain,”theguardsnarled.
“CaliforniaPrisonsCommission,”Rileybluffed.“We’reconductingsometestsheretonight.Youmighthaveheardtheresults.”
“Iheardsomething.”
“You’llgetagoodwrite-up,”Rileypromisedhim.“You’reonthealert.What’syourname?”
Theguardrelaxedhisstanceabit,andRileymovedinfast.Withhislefthandhebattedtheguntoonesidesoitwouldn’tshoothimifitwasdischargedaccidentally,andwithhisrighthandheswungattheguy’swindpipe,dislodgingit.Theguardchokedanddroppedtotheground.Rileyknewhehadafewmomentsbeforehe’dhavetorightitagain,ortheguardwoulddie.Hehadtousethosemomentswell.
Hesnatchedkeysofftheguard’sbelt,unlockedthedoor.“Faith?”hecalledintothedarkness.
“ThatsoundslikeasoldierboyIonceknew,”Faith’svoicecalledback.“AndIdomean‘knew.’Inthebiblicalsense.”
“Don’tremindme,”Rileysaid.“Comeon.We’regettingyououtofhere.”
Faithappearedinthedoorway.Shewasdressedsimply,inaprisonjumpsuit.
Herlonghairgleamedinthelightfromtheyard,andherbigbrowneyesflashed.She’sabeautifulyoungwoman,Rileythought,angryathimselfforeventhinkingit,eveninjailclothes.“I’mpayingmydebttosociety,”shesaid.“LastthingIneedonmyrecordisajailbreak.”
“Thoughtyou’djumpatthechance,”hereplied.“ThewayIrememberit,yourrecordwasneverabigconcern.”
“MaybeI’machangedgirl,”Faithsaid.
Rileysnorted.
“Itcanhappen,”sheinsisted.
“I’llbelieveitwhenIseeit.Anyway,we’veworkedthatout.We’vegotsomepeopleontheinside,andwe’regoingtomakeitlooklikeahostagesituation.You’renotanescapee,you’reaprisoner.”
“Listen,Riley,”Gunnhissedfromtheshadows.“Weneedtogetgoing,here.”
“MaybeIwon’tgo,”Faithsuggested.“Icouldyellrightnow,callfortheguards.”
“Faith...”Rileyresponded,half-temptedtolether.Hekneltdown,restoredtheguard’swindpipe.Theguywouldbesore,butfine.“BuffyandAngelareintrouble.Maybebadtrouble.Theyneedhelp.HelpIcan’tgivethem.It’sgottobeyou.”
“Angel?”Faithasked.“Idon’toweBuffyathing.ButifAngel’sintrouble...”
“SeemstomeyouoweBuffyplenty.”
“Thenweseeitdifferently,”Faithdeclared.“I’llhelpAngel,though.Let’sgo.”
Strangely,asBuffyandAngeldescendedthestairsfromthecastle’stowerwithKayleyMoserintow,thestaircasedidn’tturnintoanythingithadn’tbeenonthewayup.“Ithoughtthiswasthecastleofchangeability,”Buffysaid.
“Maybethat’sonlyonthewayin,”Angelsaid.“Maybeonceyou’reallthewayinside,itstopstransforming.”
“Makesasmuchsenseasanythingelseaboutit,”Buffyreplied.“I’mjusthopingwedon’trunintoanyrodentsofunusualsizeonthewaydown.”
“Yousawthose,too?”Kayleyasked.“Iusedtowatchthemfromthetower,sometimes.They’drunincirclesonthestreets,liketheywereracingorsomething.”
“Probablychasingsomeonefordinner,”Buffyguessed.
“Ineversawthemeatanyone,”Kayleysaid.“Buttheylookedbigenoughtodoit.”
“Icanvouchforthat,”Buffyassuredher.
Atthebaseofthetower,thecastlewasquiet.Candlesstillflickeredinmanyoftheroomstheypassedthrough,buteverythingelseseemedquiet.Norat-creatures,nootherhazardspresentedthemselves.Thepathtothemaindoorsseemedobvious.
“Iswearitwasalothardercomingin,”Buffysaid.
“Ibelieveyou,”Angelagreed.“Isawtherats,remember?”
“Yeah,butyoucheatedbybeaminginorwhateverthatwas.”
“Maybethecastlewantstokeepstrangersout,”Angeloffered,“butdoesn’tcarewholeaves.”
“AndagainIsay,itmakesasmuchsenseasanything,”Buffysaid.“Icanacceptprettymuchanythingatthispoint.”
Afewminuteslatertheystoodontheplainoutsidethecastlewalls.“Ireallywanttothankyouguysforgettingmeoutofthere,”Kayleysaid.“But—anddon’tthinkI’mnotappreciativeofwhatyou’vealreadydone—whatthehelldowedonow?”
BuffymetAngel’sglance.Hedoesn’tknoweither,shethought.Sheshrugged.
“Well,wehavemoremissingkidstoroundup,”Buffytoldher.“Buthowdowefindthem?Orgetthemhome?Basicallyabigquestionmarkthere.”
“How’dyougethere?”Kayleyasked.
“Theproverbiallongstory,”Buffyreplied.“Buttheshortversion,thoughadoorfromSunnydale.”
“Sunnydale?”
“Toldyouitwaslong,”Buffysaid.“Andtomakeitlonger,Angelcamefrom,whereagain?”
“Idon’treallyknow,”Angelsaid.“FromL.A.tosomeotherplace,andfromthatotherplacetohere,followingBuffy.”
“Andwhataboutthewitchwhosentyouhere?”Buffyasked.“Thinkshecanbeanyhelpnow?”
“Idoubtthatshe’salivenow,”Angelreplied.“Shewasdying.”
“It’sneversimplewithyou,isit?”Buffyaskedhim.Hedidn’tanswer,butthen,shehadn’treallyexpectedhimto.“It’dbeniceifwe’dhearfromWillandTaraandSalma’sgrandmother,”shecontinued.“OrgetanInstantMessagefromAlina’smachine.”
“That’dcomeinhandy,rightaboutnow,”Angelagreed.Butsomehow,Buffydidn’tseeithappeninganytimesoon.
Spikeregainedconsciousnessasthesledsjerkedtoastopoutsidealong,lowbuilding.Herealizedthatthebuilding,setintothesideofahill,wouldhavebeenalmostimpossibletoseefromanyangleotherthanthisone.Fromhere,though,awallwithnoornamentationwasplainlyvisible.Therewasasingleopendoorwayinthecenterofthewall,andthesledshadparkedinfrontofit.
Hetestedhimself.Therayseemedtobewearingoff—hewasabletomovehisfeetandhishands.Hedidn’tdaretryanythingmorecomplicated,becausehedidn’twantthemtoknowhehadcomearound.Hekepthiseyesnearlyclosed,justopenenoughtolethimseehissurroundings.
Amomentlater,acoupleofthelittleorangemenliftedhimoffthesledtocarryhiminside.This,then,waswherethey’dbe“puttingittosleep,”asthey’dsodelicatelyphrasedit.Thethoughtangeredhimalloveragain.Hehadtomakeamovebeforetheygothiminside—whoknewhowmanywouldbewaitingin
movebeforetheygothiminside—whoknewhowmanywouldbewaitinginthere,orwhattechnologythey’dhave.
Hetwistedsuddenly,breakingtheirgripsanddroppingtothegroundwithathud.Well,thatwasabloodyawfulstart,hethought.Butatleasthewasoutoftheirhands.Hegothisfeetunderneathhimandslammedhisstill-nettedbodyintothenearestlittleguy.Themanwentoverbeneathhisassault.
Aroundhim,theothersscrambledtohisside.“It’sawake!”heheardonecryout.
Gettinghisfingersthroughthenetting,Spikegrabbedthefallenone’sweaponandwrithed,bringingthegunuptopointatoneoftheotherlittlemen.“Don’tcallme‘it!’”heshouted,squeezingthetrigger.Thepurplebeamshotoutagain,andthelittlemanfroze.Spikeheldthetriggerdownandplayedthegunacrosssomeoftheothers.
Ashedid,herealizedthathewasfightingthem—andfeelinggreataboutit.Eitherthechipwasgone,ortheseorangebuggersreallywereevil.Eitherway,thethrillofcombatchargedthroughhim.This—surroundedbyenemies,drapedwithanet,usinganaliengunagainstitsownerswhowantedtokillhim—thiswasthebesthe’dfeltsincehe’dheardthatCherycehaddied.
Itain’theaven,hethought.Butatleastitain’tHell.
Chapter14
THEMOONCASTASILVERGLOWONTHEDESERTFLOOR,illuminatingMischa’sway.Crossingitonfootwasastruggle.Everyplantouthere,hethought,seemstohavethornsorbarbsorstickersofsomekind.Healreadyhadtrippedonceandcaughthimselfonhishands,onlytofindthathishandhadlandedonachollacactus.Whenheyankedhishandaway,aroundballofthornswasstucktoit.Hebatteditawaywithhisotherarm,butmanyofthealmostinvisible,hairlikethornswereapparentlystillembeddedinhisflesh.Hishandthrobbedandeverytimeheranitacrossanothersurface,itmadearaspingnoise.
There’snothinglikethisinRussia,hethought.ThatI’veeverheardabout,anyway.MaybeSiberia...HeknewthatSiberiawasvast,spreadingacrossninetimezones,andwhilehisgeneralimpressionofitwasavastfrozenicefield,heknewintellectuallythattheremustbemoretotheplacethanthat.Nothinghe’dencountered,though,inhishomelandorhere,hadpreparedhimforthebizarrelandscapeoftheSonorandesert.
Thewaybeforehimwasfairlyclear,though.Theplants,mostofwhosenameshedidn’tknow,werewidelyspaced.Thehardestpartofnegotiatinghiswaywasthatthegroundwasuneven.Thoughagivenstretchofitmightlookflatfromadistance,upcloseitwasanythingbut—unseenrocks,animalburrows,brokenareaswhereoccasionalstreamsflowedandchurnedtheearthallmadethefootingtreacherous.Thenthereweretimeswhenhefoundaneasypath,downthecenterofawash,forinstance,butbeforeheknewithewasheadedintoacanyonwithsteepwallsandnowayout.Onthoseoccasions,hebacktracked,tryingtokeepacoursechartedbythemoonandstars,headedforwherehethoughttheroadwouldcrosshispath.Hehadtriedtodriveparalleltotheroad,knowinghe’dneedtoreturntoiteventuallytogettothecanyon.Buthe’dgonefartherafieldfromitthanhe’dthought,orithadturnedawayfromthecoursehethoughtitfollowed.
Mischa?heheard,insidehishead.
Alina,hethought.I’mhere.I’mtryingtogettoyou.
Hurry,Mischa,shereplied.Ineedyou.
Iknow.I’mtrying.I’mcoming.
Areyousafe?
Heglancedathispalm,burningwiththepainoftheburiedthorns,hisankle,scrapedonaboulder.I’mfine.Thehelicoptersaregone,landedbythecar,Isuppose.Sofarnoonehasfollowedmehere.
I’mglad,Mischa.
Metoo.Nothingwillgetinmywaynow.I’llbetheresoon.Afewhoursontheroad.
Becareful,Mischa.Ihavetogonow.
Besafe,Alina.Soon...
Soon...
Finallyhesawasmudgeoflightagainstthehorizon.Settinghissightsonthat,hepressedon,dodgingthecactiandbarbedsucculents.Thelightgrew,turnedintoagasstation/truckstopsignstandingatopatallpole.Salvation.
Ashestarteddownagentleslopetowardthetruckstop,lookingatthedozenorsobigrigsparkedinitslotwhiletheirdriversatedinner,showered,orslept,heheardthedullroarofhelicoptersinthebackground.Sotheyhadn’tgivenuponcehe’dabandonedthestolenvehicle,ashe’dhopedtheymight.Hewasacriminalnow,ananimaltobepursuednomatterwhat.
Well,I’llleadthemonamerrychase,then.
Herusheddownthehillintothefloodlitparkinglot.Nowinsteadofcanyonwalls,thesteelwallsofhugetrucksroseuparoundhim,legendsandlogosandpicturespaintedontheirsides.Someofthebigmachinesrumbled,smokerollingupintothesky,disappearingatthetopedgeofthedomeoflightcastbythetall
upintothesky,disappearingatthetopedgeofthedomeoflightcastbythetallfloodlamps.Stealingone,Mischaknew,wouldjustlandhiminthesamesituationhe’dbeeninbefore,withthepolicechasinghimintheotherdirection,onlythistimeatthewheelofanunfamiliarvehicle.TheSUVhadhandledlargelylikeacar,butaneighteen-wheelerwasanotherbeastaltogether,heknew.
Mischa’spsychicskillshadneverbeenevenclosetoAlina’s.Noteveninthesameleague.Buthehadsomeabilities,whichwastheonlyreasontheVishnikoffslethimstayaround.AndAlinahadtaughthimafewthings,helpedhimhonewhatskillshedidhave.
Timetoputittouse,hethought.
Hesawatruckerreturningtohisrigfromthecoffeeshop.TheguyworeaballcapwithaNewJerseyDevilslogoonit.Hewasskinny,hisfacegauntandpock-marked,andascragglyblackbeardclungtohischinlikeSpanishmosstoatreelimb.Inonehandwasasteelthermos,andintheotheraringofkeys.Mischacouldn’ttellwhattheman’struckcontained;itssideswereplainwhite,withwhatseemedtoberandomlettersandnumberspaintedinonecorner.Mischapresumedthatmeanttheguyhauledwhateverhecould,ratherthanworkingforanyparticularcompany.Thecabwaspaintedabrightyellow,andabadlydrawncheetahadornedthedoors,withthewords“RJFREIGHT”underit.
MischapresumedthedriverwasRJ.HesteppedfromtheshadowsasRJinsertedakeyinthedriver’ssidelock.
“Excuseme,”Mischasaid.
RJspun,startled,hiseyeswide.“Yeah?”
Mischacaughtthedriver’sgaze,heldit.Hestaredintotheman’sdarkeyes,boringintohismind.Keepingtheman’seyeslocked,hesenthisthoughtslikeadarktendrilacrossthespaceseparatingthem,intoRJ’smind.Hefeltnoobstaclethere,noattempttokeephimout.RJ,then,didn’tknowaboutpsychicassault,hadneverdevelopedtheabilitytoprotecthisownthoughts.Mischagaveuponverbalcommunication,andwentstraighttomental.
Ineedaride.
“Youneedaride,”RJsaid,hisvoicesuddenlytakingonarasp.
IneedaridetoLosAngeles.Youwilltakemethere.Quickly,andwithoutargument.
“ToLosAngeles,”RJechoed.“Fast.”
Noonemustknow.
“Noone.”RJunlockedhisdoorandclimbedintothecab.Heleanedacrossthebenchseatandunlockedthepassengerdoor.Mischacrossedinfrontofthecabandclimbedupintotheseat.RJstartedtheengine.
LosAngeles
WillowwatchedAlexisVishnikoffworkonhisknees,theRealityTraceropenbeforehim.Overtheyears,heexplained,hehaddevelopedatoolkitspecificallyforworkingonthething.Hekneweverybitofitsschematics,insideandout.Thedevicewasmorecomplicatedthanasupercomputer,buttoAlexisitseemedassecondnatureascheckingoilistoanyonewhodrivesacar.
Afterafewminutes,heclosedtheaccesshatch,screwingitdowntight.“There,”hesaid.HeglaredatAlina,thenallowedWillowtoshareinhisangryglare.LikeI’mtheonewhobrokeit,Willowthought.RememberingwhatAlinahadsaidabouthowhehadtreatedhersinceherpowerhadsurpassedhisownandhiswife’s,shegavehimbacksomeofthesame.Grrr.Nastyoldman.Coolname,Alexis,butstill...grrrr.
“Itisfixed,”Alexiscontinued.HeroseandwenttostandbesideValerya,whowatchedwithherarmsfoldedstubbornlyacrossherchest,hermouthsetinathinline.
Shedoesn’tlook,Willowthought,likeshehaseversmiledinherlife.Howdoesanyonebecomesojoyless?
“AndIhopethatyouwillhaverealizedbynowthatyouneedyourmotherandme,andhavehadenoughofdisrespectingus.”
Alinabarelysparedthemaglance.Sincetheirearlierargument,shehadbeenquiet,aloof.NowshelookedatWillowinsteadofatherparents.
“Areyouready?”sheasked.
“Areyouready?”sheasked.
“Alina,”Alexissaid.
“Father,we’veagreed.IwillonlyuseittotrytoreturnthoseIhavealreadysentaway.IneedWillowandherfriendstohelpmelocatethemintheAlternities.”
“Come,Alexis,”Valeryasaid,uncrossingherarmslongenoughtotugonherhusband’shand.“Wearenotneededhere.We’reonlyintheway.”
“Yes,”Alexissaid.SomethinginthetoneofhisvoiceremindedWillowofherownfather’svoice,onthedayshe’dstartedatUCSunnydale.Willowhadn’tgoneawaytoschool,butshedidmoveintothedorms,andherfather,helpingherpackandgo,hadbeenoddlyglum,asiftherealizationthathislittlegirlwasgrowinguphadsetinallatonce.Willowhadwonderedwhathe’dhavethoughtifhe’dknownhowshespentmanyofhernights,helpingBuffyfightevilandall.Thatpartofherlifehadbeeninvisibletoherparents,butifthey’dknownaboutit,theymighthavebeenlessaffectedbyhermovingoutoftheirhouse.Thedorm,they’dhavefigured,couldn’tpossiblybeanymoredangerousthantheHellmouth.
Alexisfollowedhiswifefromtheroom,leavingAlina,Willow,andagloweringNicky,whosatinacornerworryingathisfingernails.TheFloresfamilywasalreadyensconcedinsomeotherpartofthehouse—CordeliaandWesleyhaddroppedthemalloffandthenleft.AlinaturnedtoWillow.“Thatisbetter,”shesaid.“Icouldnothaveconcentrated,knowingthattheywerewatching.”
“Well,”Willowsaid,“there’splentyofconcentratingtobedone,right?Imean,areyouready?To,youknow,sendNickythroughandfindBuffyandAngelandthoseotherkids?Because,ifyouare,IneedtogetintouchwithTaraandDoñaPilar.”ShehadworkedwithNickywhileAlina’sfatherrepairedtheRealityTracer.Hewasn’tthemostcooperativesubjectshe’deverworkedwith—therewassomuchangerinhim,itscaredher.Buthewasdetermined,andthathelped.Andhe’dundergonetheNightoftheLongKnivesritual,whichsatisfiedthestill-theoreticalaspectthatpeoplewhowentthroughhadtohavebeenthrougharealityshiftofsomekind.
“Iamready,”Alinaassuredher.
“I’vebeenready,”Nickysaid.“Canwegetthisgoingorwhat?”
Willowtriedtoblankouthermind,tocontactTara,butbeforeshecouldtherewasnoiseinthehallwayandaknockatthedoor.
“Whatisit?”Alinacalledout.
“Youhavevisitors,”someoneannounced.
“Expectinganyone?”Willowaskedher.
Alinashrugged.“Idonotknowwhattoexpectanymore.”
ThedoortotheworkroomopenedandBuffy’shunkyboyfriendcamein.“Riley!”Willowdeclared,excitedly.Thenshesawwhoaccompaniedhim.“Oh,andFaith.”
“Hi,Will,”Rileysaid.
Faithstoppedinthedoorway,regardingherwiththosebigdarkeyes.“Iseethesecondstringisinthegame,”shesaid.
“We’renotsecondstring,”Willowprotested,feelingaflushofanger.“Anyway,Buffy’skindofmissing.”
“IheardthewholesadsagafromGIJoe,”Faithsaid.
“Faithisheretohelp,”RileyremindedWillow.“She’sagreedtogothroughafterBuffyandAngel.IftheTracer’sfixed,thatis.”
“Itisfixed,”Alinapromisedthem.“WithWillow’shelp,IwillbeabletosendhertothecorrectAlternity,andthenshecanhelpguidetheothersback.”
“Yousoundconfident,”Rileysaid.
“Iam.”
“Herdad’slikethekingofallRealityTracerrepairmen,”Willowputin.
“Hebuiltit,”Alinaadded.“Heknowshowitworks.”
“That’saplus,”Faithsaid.“I’dhateto,youknow,getstucksomeplaceIdidn’twanttobe.”
Likejail?Willowthought.Butshekepthermouthshut.
“Whatisthis?”Nickydemanded,risingfromhisspotinthecorner.Hisfistswereclenchedandangercloudedhisface.“I’msupposedtogothrough.IneedtogettoSalma.”
“Weknow,”Willowassuredhim.“WecansendhimtoSalmaandFaithtoBuffy,right,Alina?”
“Thereshouldbenoproblem,”Alinasaid.“WiththeRealityTracerfunctioningcorrectlyandyoutohelpguidethemontheotherside,wecansendanyonethrough.
Aslongas—”“Aslongaswhat?”Faithasked.
“IthinkIknowwhatshemeans,”Willowcutin.“Wehavethistheory—actually,Idon’tknowifit’sreallyatheoryormoreofahunch,butanyway,wethinkthatforpeopletobeabletogothroughtheportalsandintotheAlternities,andthencomeoutagain,safely,thattheyneedtohavesomekindofexperienceoftheirownthathelpsthemsurvivethetrip.Somekindofexperiencewithalternaterealities,maybesomekindofflip-flop.LikeyouandBuffyexchangingbodies.Angelhavingasoul,thennothavingone.”
“MyNightoftheLongKnives?”Nickyasked.
“Thatwouldprobablycoverit,”Willowagreed.
“ButwhataboutSalma?DoesthismeanIwon’tbeabletobringherbackthroughsafely?”
“Idon’tknow,”Willowsaid.Therewasnotimeforanythingbutbrutalhonesty,butshehatedthewayhisfacefellwhenshesaidit.“Maybeifyou’retheretoguideher.Butweknowthatsomethings,andmostpeople,can’tjustgothroughandthencomebackinonepiece,orwithoutbeinghorriblytransformedinsomeway.”
“Iamsureshe’llbefineifyou’rethere,”Alinasaid.“Intheory,atleast,theportalsrespondtothepeoplewhoaresentthrough.Oneofmyparents’goalswastocontinuetorefinethedevicesothatanyonecouldtravelinbothdirectionssafely,buttheyhaven’tquiteachievedthatyet.”
“Thisreallysoundsencouraging,”Faithsaid.“SoImightgetoverthere,findBuffyandAngel,andthenwhenItrytobringthembackthrough,we’llallbeturnedintogroundbeeforsomething?”
“No,”Alinareplied.“Thethreeofyouwillbeabletoreturn.Ibelievetheotherkidswilltoo,ifyou’retheretoshowthemtheway.”
“Shebelieves,”Faithechoed.“Well,I’mfeelingsomuchbetteraboutthisnow.”
“Look,let’sjustdoit,”Willowsaid.“Thelongerwetalkaboutittheworsethingsmightbegetting.”
“Okay,whatever,”Faithsaid.Sheputherhandsonherhips.“I’mready.”
Willowwentbacktoblankinghermind,thoughitwasalittleharderwithRileyandFaithcrowdedintotheroom.Shementallydrewaplainwhiteblindacrossthewindowofhermind’seye.Wheneverythingwaswhite,sheconjuredapictureofTara’sprettyface,eyesclosedasifinslumber.
Afteramoment,Tara’seyesopened.
Willow?
Hi.It’sme.
Icanseeyou.
Areyouready?We’regoingtosendNickydelaNatividadthroughtowherehissisterendedup,andthensendFaiththroughtohelpshowBuffyandAngelthewayhome.
IguessI’mready.WhataboutDoñaPilar?
I’llgethernext.Hangon.
HoldingontotheimageofTara,WillowcalledupDoñaPilar’slined,friendlyface.Thesameroutinerepeateditself,asDoñaPilarbecameawareofherpresence.Inamoment,thethreewomenwereallincommunication,triangulatedaroundamentalimageofAlina,hookeduptotheRealityTracer.Attheedgesofherconsciousness,WillowheardafainthumastheTracerpoweredup.
SheheardAlina’svoice,asifthroughearspluggedbyairplanetravelortoomuchswimming.
“Areyouready,Nicky?”Alinaasked.
Nicky’smuffledvoicerepliedintheaffirmative.
FindSalma.Thethoughtbelongedtoallfourofthematonce,Willow,DoñaPilar,Tara,Alina.SeeSalma.
Thentheycouldseeher.Shewasaloneandfrightened,alineoftreesloomingbehindher.Butwhateveritwasthatscaredherwasinfrontofher,notinthetreesbutcomingacrossthegrassyplainthatspreadbeforeher.Itwasoutoftheirfieldofview.
“Go,Nicky,”Alinasaid.
Willowcouldsensemotionintheroom,thoughmostofhermindwasotherwiseoccupied.BeforeSalma,shesawaportalappear.
Nickysteppedthroughandtheimagefadedfromsight.
Buffynow,theirthoughtssaidasone.SeeBuffy.
Therewasamoment’svertiginousmotionandthenBuffycrystallized.Angelstoodclosebesideher,aspectacularstonecastleattheirbacks.
TouchFaith.HoldontoFaith.
Faithmaterializedintoview,thoughnothersurroundings.
“Go,Faith,”Alinainstructed.
BeforeBuffyandAngel,aportalopened.Faithsteppedtowardit.
BuffywasabouttocommentonAngel’sInstantMessageline—beenspendingmuchtimeonlinelately?orsomethinglikethat—whentheshimmeringfieldthatshehadcometoknowasaportal’sapparitiongrewbeforethem.
“Portal,”shesaid,somewhatredundantly.
“Dowegothrough?”Angelasked.“Orissomethingcomingthisway?”
Buffybracedherselfforeitheranswer.
“Youmeanyoudon’tknow?”Kayleyasked.“Whatgooddoesitdoforyoutorescuemefromthecastleifyoudon’tknowwhereyou’retakingme?”
“We’rekindofplayingthisbyear,okay?”Buffysaid.“Atthispointwedon’tknowalotmorethanyoudo.”
“CordeliamadeAngelsoundlikesomekindofsuperhero,”Kayleycomplained.“Sofar,Ican’tsayI’mallthatimpressed.”
“Cordeliahasatendencytoexaggerate,”Buffysaid,knowingAngelwouldnotcometohisowndefense.“Butinthiscaseshe’snotfaroff.”
“Isaywegoforit,”Angelsaid.“Whereverittakesus,atleastit’llbemotion.”
Hestartedfortheportal,butbeforehecouldtaketwosteps,someonecamethroughfromtheotherside.
Notjustsomeone,Buffyrealized.Faith.
“Great,”shesaid.“Nowtheportal’sbreakingpeopleoutofjail.”
“Itjustsohappens,Buff,thatyourboyfriendbrokemeoutofjail.”
“Riley?Whywouldhe—”
“Tosaveyourbutt,thoughI’mnotsurewhyhe’dwantto.”
“You?Saveus?”
“Buffy,”Angelsaid.“Faith—”
“Iknow,Iknow.Faith’schanged.Heardthedrill.I’llbelieveitwhenIseeit.”
“Thenstartbelieving,”Faithinsisted.“HereIam.YouthinkI’dhavebeenabletogethereifIwasn’tsentthroughafteryou?”
Shehasapointthere,Buffyrealized.Asmuchasshehatedtoadmitit,sending
Faithafterthemprobablymadesense.MoresensethansendingRiley,who,whiletoughandexperienced,wasnoSlayer.
“Areyouincontactwiththem?”Angelasked.
“Alina,Willow,Tara,DoñaPilar,”Faithsaid.“Thewholesisterhood.”
“Thenwhatarewesupposedtodo?”Angelasked.
“Whatnow?”Faithsaid.Buffyrealizedshewasnotspeakingtoanyofthem,though.Hergazewastowardthesky,andsheseemedtobepayingattentiontosomethingnoneofthemcouldseeorhear.Afteramoment,shepointedbehindthem,whereyetanotherportalmaterializedastheoneshehadcomethroughvanished.“Throughthere.”
“Justlikethat?”Buffyasked.FollowingFaithblindlyseemedlikeasupremelybadidea,inspiteofAngel’sprotestationsthatshehadchanged.Buffyhadseenscantevidenceofanychange,andshecouldn’tshaketheimageofRileyandFaithlockedinheatedembrace—eventhoughsheknewtheimagewaswrong,thatwhenRileyhadbeenwithFaithshewasinBuffy’sbody,notherown.
“Buffy,wedon’treallyhaveachoice,”Angelinsisted.“Ifshe’sintouchwithhome,weneedtodowhatshesays.”
“Buthowcansheprovethatsheis?”Buffyqueried.
“Wehavetotakeherwordforit,”Angelsaid.
“It’snotlikeyoutwoknowanything,”Kayleycommented.
“True,”Buffyreplied.“But...”
“I’mgoingthroughthere,Buff,”Faithsaid.“Becausethat’swhereAlina’stellingmewheretogo.Youcancomewithmeornot.Butifyoudon’t,I’mnotcomingbackforyouagain.”
“We’llcome,”Angelsaid.HelookedatBuffy.“We’llcome.”
Buffyshrugged.Shedidn’t,sheknew,haveanybetterideas.“We’llcome.”
Thesoldiershadherinsight,Salmaknew.Theyracedacrossthemeadowonthe
Thesoldiershadherinsight,Salmaknew.Theyracedacrossthemeadowonthebacksoftheirstrangebeasts,bearingdirectlytowardher.Shecouldtakerefugeinthetreesbehindher,butthatwouldonlybetemporary.Theforestwasdarkandthick,underbrushandbrambleschokingthespacebetweengreattreetrunks.Movementwouldbeslowanddifficult,andshedidn’tknowherway.Ifshemanagedtoevadethesoldiers,she’dsurelybelost,andhowwouldthatbeanimprovement?
Sosheresolvedtomeetthemhere.Shehadnoweapons.Shecouldn’thopetobeatthem.
Butshecouldmakethemkillher.
ThatwouldbepreferabletoallowingthemtoreturnhertotheWorm’stunnels,ortowandering,lostandhungry,inadarkforestuntilshediedofexposure.
Shebracedherselffortheironslaught.
Butbeforeithappened,aportalopenedbeforeherandafamiliarformsteppedout.Itvanishedassoonashecamethrough,blinkedaway,andthenreturnedinaheartbeat.
“Nicky!”
“Salma!”heshouted,joybrighteninghisface.Herushedtoher,sweptherintohisarms.Sheclutchedhimtightly,knowingallthewhilethatthesoldierswerealmostonthem.
“Nicky,you’realive!”
“I’mjustgladthatyouare!”hereplied.
“I-Iamfine,now,”shesaid.“Butwecan’tstayhere.Thesoldiers—”Sheindicatedtheadvancingtroops.Thegroundshookundertheircharge.
“Intotheportal,”Nickycommanded.“I’llwatchyourbackuntilyou’resafe.”
“We’llgotogether,”Salmadeclared.Itwashardnowtobeheardoverthethunderofthesoldiers,theroarofhooves,thecreakofleather,theclashofsteel.
“It’soneatatime,”Nickyshouted.“Youfirst.Ihaven’tfoundyoujusttoloseyouagain.”Hepushedhertowardtheportal.“Hurry!”
youagain.”Hepushedhertowardtheportal.“Hurry!”
“You’recomingtoo!”
“I’mrightbehindyou!”
Shesteppedtowardtheportal.Asshedid,thedustchurnedupbythesoldiersenvelopedher.Nowshecouldsmelltheirmounts,heartheirraisedvoices.Anothermomentandthey’dhaveher.Shepushedthroughtheportal,turningasshewenttoseehowclosebehindherNickywas.
ButNickyremainedonthegrass,asifrootedtherebythespearsthatsuddenlysproutedfromhim,makinghimstrangelyresembleahumanpincushion.Thesoldierssurroundedhim,someofthemlookingherwaywithwonderandpuzzlementontheirfaces,othersintentonherbrother.Onfinishinghimoff.
“Nickyyy!”sheshouted,andthenshewasgone.
Chapter15
LosAngeles
WESLEYANDCORDELIALOOKEDUPATTHESEEDYhotel.ApinkneonsignflickeredBRIHTONARS—theGandtheMhadgoneout,andWesleywascertaintherewerenobuildingsevenremotelyresemblingthisoneinBrighton—abovethedoorway.Thewindowsweremostlycoveredbyvenetianblindsorfaded,tatteredcurtains,butsomewereopen.ThebluishglowofTVsshonethroughthem,andtinnyvoicesandlaughtrackswaftedontheair.
“You’resurethisistheplace?”Cordeliaaskedinahushedvoice.Again.
“Quitesure,”Wesleytoldher.He’dbeentellingherthiseversincethey’dparkedAngel’scarandthreeyoungmenwholookedlikethey’dbeasathomeinaprisonyardasonastreetcornerhadgivenittheonceover,asifaddingupwhattheycouldgetforparts.“Secondfloor.Roomtwo-thirteen.Youheardtheman.”
“Ididn’thearaman,”Cordeliacorrectedhim.Theyhadapproachedthehotel,butnowstoodjustbeyonditsdoors,sonooneinsidecouldhearorseethem.“Iheardademon.Withblueskinandscales—scales!Idon’ttrusthimabit.”
“Heknowsthatifheliedtous,he’llanswertoWesleyWyndam-Pryce,”Wesleysaid.
“Oooh,he’sprobablyshakinginhishooves.”
“Look,Cordelia,”Wesleysaid.“Thefellow—allright,thedemon—saidthattherewasanOdenTalfemaleholedupinhere.It’snotJhiera,buttheyalloweusafavor,don’tthey?”
“MaybetheyoweAngelafavor.Ithinkalltheyoweyouisaslapforthatleeringandgropingbityoudid.”
Heturnedonher.“Ididnotgrope!”
“Soyouadmittotheleering?”
“Theremayhavebeenalittleleering.Butnogroping.”
“Okay,Wesley.Ifwetrustyourdemoninformerandwethinkthere’sanOdenTalfemaleupthere,let’sgoup.Maybeyou’rerightandshecanhelpwiththedimension-hoppingstuff.”
“Idon’tknow,”Wesleyconfessed.“I’vebeenthinkingitoverandIbelievethatAlina’sprobablycorrect.InterdimensionaltravelisprobablynothingliketravelingbetweentheAlternities.”
Cordeliatookhisarm,dragginghimtowardthehoteldoor.“Toobad,”shesaid.“Nochickeningoutnow.Let’sgo.”Sheshovedthedooropen.Wesleyexpectedsomeonetoraiseanalarm,totrytostopthem.
Noonedid.Adeskclerklookedupfrombehindhiscageofbulletproofplastic.Acoupleofresidentswatchinganoldblack-and-whiteconsoletelevisioninthelobbyglancedup,thenlookedbackatthescreen.
Cordeliamarchedupthestairs,Wesleyrightbehind.Theystoppedinfrontofthedoorwithalopsidedmetal213nailedtoit.
“Theycanbequitedangerous,youknow,”Wesleysaid.
“Onlyifthey’returnedon,”Cordeliareplied.“Yougoinfirst,we’llbefine.”
Wesleytookoffenseatthatbutdidn’tseehowitcouldbeargued.Heknockedonthedoor.Agruffvoiceresponded.
“Yeah?”
“Wrongroom?”Wesleywhispered.
“Ifyou’reanOdenTalfemale,weneedtotalktoyou!”Cordeliacalled.“Don’tworry,we’refriendly!Andnotatallattractive.”
worry,we’refriendly!Andnotatallattractive.”
“Cordelia!”Wesleychastised.
“Alittlewhitelie,”shesaid.“Hello?”
Thesoundsofsomeoneunlockingthedoorcamefromtheotherside,andamomentlateritswungopen.Alarge,unshavenmanstoodtheredressedinastainedwhiteundershirtandstripedboxers,withblacksocksonhisfeet.Helookedatthemboth.
“You’renotChinesefood,”hesaid.
“Indeedwe’renot,”Wesleyagreed.
Themanshutthedoorandlockeditagain.
WesleyandCordelialookedateachother.
“Demoninformants,”Cordeliasaid.“Ikeeptellingyou,nevertrustademoninformant!”
Salmastumbledasshefellthroughtheportal,fallingtoherhandsandkneesindampgrass.HerlastviewwasofherbelovedbrotherNicky’sdeathatthehandsofthesoldierswhochasedher,andthenshewaspassingthrough,thatlurching,stomach-turningexperience,buteventhiswasminortohercomparedtolosingNickyagain.Hesavedme,shethought,tearsstreamingdownhercheeks.Thisallstartedbecausehedisappeared—becausehejoinedagangandwantedtoperformaspellthatwouldmakehimaccepted,makehimoneofthem.Andnowhe’sgone,andI’maloneagain.
Butshewasn’t.Whensheliftedherhead,wipedthetearsawayfromhereyeswiththebackofonefilthyhand,shesawpeoplestandinginasemicirclearoundher,lookingather.Behindthem,adarkcastleloomed,butitdidn’tlookatallliketheonefromwhichshehadescaped.
“Salma?”
“Buffy!OhmyGod,isitreallyyou?”shescreamed.
“LastIchecked,”Buffysaid.“Aroundhere,Idon’ttakeanythingforgranted,though.”
though.”
Salmaroseunsteadilytoherfeet.Shedidn’tknowtheseotherpeople—atall,handsomeman;adark-eyedbeautyaboutBuffy’ssize,butwithatoughnessinthesetofherjawandthecockofherhips;andatinygirlwhoswaminanoversizeblueshirt,alostlookinhereyes.
“That’sright,youcouldbeme,”thedark-eyedgirlsaid,atouchofsarcasmedginghertone.
“IthinkI’dknowifthathappenedagain,”Buffyreplied.Shedidn’tsoundhappyabouttheprospect.SalmafiguredshewouldneverknoworunderstandeverythingaboutwhoBuffywasorwhatshedid.Butshewasgladtoseeafamiliarface.
“Nicky’sd-dead,”shesaid,hervoicehitching.“Hepushedmethroughtheportal,andthesoldiers...thesoldiersgothim.”Shefeltthetearsagain,feltthesobsriseupinher.Buffycametoher,putacomfortingarmaroundhershoulders,drewherintoahug.ShecouldfeelthestrengthinBuffy’sarms,andshefeltsafethere.
“JustlikeBuffy,”thedark-eyedgirlsaid.“Allcuddle-cuddleandnoaction.Nowondertheboyslikemebetter.”BuffyreleasedSalmathen.“Iguessifyou’regoingtohavetoputupwiththesepeople,youmightaswellbeintroduced,”shesaid.Shepointedtothedark-eyedonefirst.“That’sFaith,overtherewiththemouth.Tall,dark,andbroodingisAngel.Andtheonewhoseclothesdon’tfitisnamedKayley.Shewasoneofthedisappeared,too,likeyou.”
“Hi,”Kayleysaidshyly,wagglingherfingersinSalma’sdirection.
Salmaworkedtobringhertearsundercontrol.“So...soyoudon’tthinkIwasspeciallytargeted?Iwasjustanotheroneofthekidswhovanished?”
“Idon’tknowforsure,”Buffysaid.“There’salotaboutthiswedon’tunderstandyet.Butchancesare,youjustgotzappedbecauseyouwereateenager—Alinasaidthemachinewasbasicallypickingteenagersatrandomandsendingthemthrough.”
“Alina?Machine?”Salmaasked,completelylost.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“Ikeepforgettingwhenyoudisappeared,”Buffysaid.“Youdidn’tknowalotof
“Ikeepforgettingwhenyoudisappeared,”Buffysaid.“Youdidn’tknowalotofwhatwefoundout.”BuffyfilledherinbrieflyontheRealityTracer,Alinaandherparents,andthewaytheyhadbeensentthroughinsearchofthemissingteens.
“Soitwasn’tallNicky?”Salmaaskedwhenshewasdone.“Hisspell...?”
“Wethinkhisspellwaspartlyresponsible,”Buffysaid.“WethinkthefactthathewasmessingaroundwithmagickinSunnydaleatthesametimeAlinawastryingtoworkthemachineinL.A.madeportalsopeninSunnydale,whichletthebadstuffin.”
“Theshadowmonster?”
“Amongothers,yes.TheshadowmonsterseemedtohavebeensomehowattunedtoNicky,andthereforetoyou.Ithoughtitwastryingtoprotectyou,butmaybeitwasjusttryingtokeepyoufromfindingNicky.”
“Isitstillthere?”
“Idon’tknow,”Buffysaid.“Being...here,andall.”
“Speakingofwhich,”Kayleyinterrupted,“canwegohomenow?”Thegirllookednervous,Salmathought,maybeevenmorefrightenedthansheherselfwas.ShewonderedwhathorrorsKayleyhadbeenthroughsincebeingsnatchedfromherhome.
“Wekindofhavetorounduptherestofthedisappeareds,”Buffyexplained.“That’swhatwecameherefor.”
“Oh,”Kayleysaid,disappointmentevidentinhervoice.“Right.Sorry.”
“We’llgetyouhomeassoonaswecan,”Angelassuredher.Itwasthefirsttimehe’dspoken.Salmafoundhisvoicereassuring.
“Sowhatarewestandingherefor?”Faithasked.“Justliketheview?”
“Idon’texactlyknowwheretogo,”Buffyreplied.
“Youdon’tneedto,”Faithsaid.“That’swhatI’mherefor.”
“You’restillincontact?”
“You’restillincontact?”
Faithwavedatnooneinparticular.“Hi,Alina,”shesaid.“What’sshakin’?”Shepausedforamoment,asiflisteningtosomethingnooneelsecouldhear.“Looksthatway,”shesaidfinally.“Throughthere.”
Faithpointedtoaspotafewfeetawayfromthegroup.Therewasmoregrassthere,butthatwasall—therewasnothingtogo“through.”Salmathoughtmaybeshewascrazyaswellasbrassyandjusttheslightestbitrude.Butasshewatchedthespot,agoldenglowbegantoform,andinaminute,aportalhungthereintheair.
“Throughthere?”Buffyasked,soundinguncertain.
“That’swhatAlinasays,”Faithreported.
“Andit’lltakeuswhere?”
“Whereweneedtobe,Iguess.”
BuffylookedatFaith,asifexaminingherfacewoulddiscloseanyhiddenmotiveoragenda.Afteramoment,sheshruggedandturnedtotheothers.“Sticktogether,”shesaid.“Wedon’twanttoloseanyonenow.”
Spikekepttuggingonthetriggerofthealiengun.Thelittleorangesodsdroppedlikeflies—orfrozelikeflies,herealized,wasamoreappropriateanalogy,sincethegunhadthesameeffectonthemthatithadhadonhim.Othersaimedtheirweaponsathim,buthedodgedtheirblasts,hislegs—basketball-playerlong,comparedtotheirs—carryinghimoutofharm’sway.Heranupaslightmoundandjumpedbehindit,hittingthegroundandrolling.Atthesametime,hewasabletosnakeoutfrombeneaththenettingthathadheldhim.Whenacoupleoftheorangealiensappearedatthetopoftherisetolookforhim,heblastedthemfromhisproneposition.Theystayedwheretheywere,miniaturestatuaryonthecrestofthehill.
“Comeon!”Spikeshoutedwhennomoreofthemappearedforafewmoments.Herolledtoasittingposition,sohecouldswivelmorequicklyincasetheyweretryingtoflankhim.“Don’ttellmeyou’vealreadygivenup!Ihaven’thadthismuchbloodyfunindays!”Thechipdidn’thurthimabit,andhe’dalmostforgottenthatcombatcouldbesojoyful.
Motionfromthecornerofhiseyecaughthisattention,andheturned,bringingtheraygunuptoshoot.Butwhathesawfrozehisfingeronthetrigger.
“Slayer?”
“Spike?Whatareyoudoinghere?”Buffydemanded,steppingfromaglowingportal.Shewasabittheworseforwear—clothestornohsofetchingly,afewbruisesonherfaceandarms—butstillaslovelyasever.“IthoughtyouwerebackinSunnydale,helpingtofightmonsters!”
“Youknowmywanderingways,Buffy,”hereplied,wavingtheguncasuallyashedid.
“Youwanttoputthegundown,Spike?”Angelasked.
Awholecrewofpeoplesteppedfromtheportal.Buffy,Angel,Faith—Faith?Andtwokidshedidn’tknow,wholookedlostandterrified.
“Thoughtyouwerelockedup,”SpikesaidtoFaith.
“Thoughtyou’dhavebeendustedlongago,”sheretorted.“Idon’tknowwhyBuffletsyouslide.”
“It’sbecauseofmycharmandgoodlooks.”
“Getreal.”
“Listen,kiddies,there’sawholebunchoflittlecreepy-lookingorangealiensgoingtocomeoverthathillanysecondwithraygunslikethisone,”hesaid,ignoringFaith’scomment.“Iftheyshootyou,you’llbefrozenfor,Idon’tknow,twentyminutesorso,Ireckon.”
“Andnowyourdelusionsaregettingmoreserious?”Faithasked.
“He’sgotoneoftheguns,”Buffypointedout.“Somaybenotdelusional?”
AngelnoddedtowardthehillSpikeravedabout.“Idon’tknowaboutlittleorangeguys,”hesaid,“butthere’sabigblueone.”
Spikewhirled,followingAngel’sgaze.Thesurlyvampirewasright—wherehe’dbeenexpectingmoreofthelittleorangebuggers,insteadavaguelyhuman-
he’dbeenexpectingmoreofthelittleorangebuggers,insteadavaguelyhuman-lookingthingwithdeepindigoskinlookeddownatthem.Thecreaturewaspowerfullymuscled,hisneckasbigaroundasastouttreebackonEarth,hisarmslikepoles,hislegssosolidtheyalmostseemedtogrowrightoutoftheground.Hisclotheswereragged,simplethings—astripoffabricforaloincloth,anotherthatrandiagonallyacrosshischest,bothtan,asifthesecreatureshadn’tinventeddyeyet.Hestaredatthemthroughsmalleyesshadowedbyaheavybrowthatslanted,caveman-style,toarowofraisedridges,almostfins,Spikethought,thatrandownhisback.Heseemedtobeatleastadozenfeettall,ormaybealittlemorethanthat.
“He’sanewoneonme,”Spikeadmitted.
“Trythegun,Einstein,”Faithsuggested.
Spikelookedatitasifhe’dforgottenhestillcarriedit.Withashrug,heaimeditattheblueman-thing,evennowtakingagiantsteptowardthem.Hesqueezedthetrigger,andthenow-familiarrayshotout,envelopingtheblueguyinitsglow.
Theblueguytookanotherstep.
“Nogood,”hesaid,shakinghishead.“Maybehe’stoobig.”
Buffy,Faith,andAngelalltookuppositionsbesideSpike,readytotakethethingon.“Youneverdidtellmewhatyou’redoinghere,Spike,”Buffysaid.
“Ifollowedyouthroughthebloodydoor,”Spiketoldher.“Thoughtyoumightneedahand,anditwasn’tlikeIhadCheryceathometokeepmethere.Butinsteadofendingupwhereyouwent,Icamehere—vampireparadise,ifyoudon’tmindbeingadumbanimalonexhibit.”
“Meaningwhat?”
“Meaning,whateverelsethereisonthisplanet,theselotherearerunningavampirezoo!AndsinceIwasn’twillingtositandpreenfor’em,theydecidedit’dbeagoodideatodomein.”
“Sothisisallself-defense.Thegun,andeverything.”
“Yeah,”Spikesaidwithasmile,rememberingthethrillofbattle.“ThekindIhaven’tbeenabletoenjoybackhomelately.Icankicktheirlittleskullsinand
haven’tbeenabletoenjoybackhomelately.Icankicktheirlittleskullsinandfeelabsolutelyfirst-ratedoingit.”
“Youguyswanttokeepjabbering,maybeyoushouldgetaroom,”Faithsaid.“There’sgonnabesomeseriousbluebutt-kickinggoingonhereinasecond.”
SpiketorehisattentionawayfromtheSlayer.Thebluemeaniestilllumbereddownthehill,slowbutdetermined.ThesightoffourofEarth’stoughestvampireSlayersandvampiresarrayedagainsthimdidn’tgivehimamoment’spause.
ThenSpikenoticedsomethingatthetopofthehill—anothermassiveblueheadswingingintoview.“Oh,wonderful,”hesaid.“He’sgotatwin.”
Thesecondgianttoppedthehillandstarteddownafterthefirst.Justforgiggles,Spikegavehimashotwiththeraygun.Nothing.Hetosseditaside.“Lookslikeit’stheold-fashionedway,”hesaid.Hepausedforamoment.“Anyonegotanyideas?”
“Yeah,”Faithputin.“Myideaislet’shaveaparty!”Shestartedupthehillatarun.Buffyfollowedher,thenAngel.Spikebroughtuptherear.
Faithreachedthebluegiantfirst.Hehesitated,slowinghisdescenttomoveintoadefensivestance,crouchingabitandshiftinghisweightbackwardsincehewasonadownhillslope.Faithhurledherselfintotheair,lashingoutwithastrongrightfootthatslammedintothemonster’schest.Herespondedbyswattingheroutoftheairlikeabug.Shehitthegroundwithasickeningthudandrolled.
Buffyglancedather,butdevotedthebulkofherattentiontothebluemonster.Followingthroughonhisswing,hewasoff-balancejusttheslightestbit.BuffyfeintedasifsheweregoingtomakeaFaith-styleleap,butatthelastmomentshechangedcourseandpassedhim,goingfartherupthehill.Heturnedatthewaistasshepassedby,tryingtokeepherinsight.ButAngelandSpikewereclosingfromthefront,sohecouldn’ttakehiseyescompletelyoffthem.Spikesawthelookofconfusioncrosshisprehistoric-lookingfacejustasBuffybuckledhisleftkneewithasharpkickfrombehind.Almostasifthey’dchoreographedit,Angelchargedhimfromthefrontatthesametime,causinghimtoswingoneofhisgigantichands.Thecombinationthrewhimcompletelyoff-balance,andhefell,agreatcrashingtumblethatsoundedtoSpikelikearedwoodfallinginaforest.Spikehadtododgeoneofthehugehandsasit
redwoodfallinginaforest.Spikehadtododgeoneofthehugehandsasitflailedtowardhim.
Oncethegiantwasdown,itwasn’tover.Hewasalreadyclawingattheearth,tryingtoregainhisfooting.BuffyandAngelbothbeganpoundingonhimwithfistsandfeet.Thebluemangruntedandmoanedundertheirassault.Spikejoinedin,enjoyingthefeelingoffleshpulpingunderhisfistsonceagain.
Butthesecondonecamedownthehillmorequickly,andmorecarefully,thanthefirstonehad.Bythetimethedownedgiantsankintounconsciousness,theother,leaningbackwardandkeepingonehandincontactwiththeground,forstabilityontheslope,hadalmostreachedthem.
Faithrose,wipingherselfoffandcursingunderherbreath.Thatisn’tlikeher,Spikethought.TheoldFaithwouldbeswearingatthetopofherlungs.Maybejail’srehabilitatingher,afterall.
Hatetoseethathappen.
“Lookout,Buffy!”Faithcalled,pointingupthehillattheadvancingblueman-thing.AsifBuffyhasn’talreadyseenit,Spikethought.Faithwasaslayer,butBuffywastheSlayer,asfarashewasconcerned.Withoutpeer.
“Thanks!”Buffyshouted.Shespunjustasthegiantreachedforher.Shedodgedthehand,punchingatthebig,graspingfingers.Thebluemanyankedhishandbackandtookanotherlumberingstepforward.Hisexpressionwasgrim,butahalf-smileplayedacrosshisfeatures,asifheknewsomethingnooneelsedid.Spikedoubtedthatwastrue—thebiggalootlookedgiantineverywayexceptmentally.HisideaofaplanseemedtobetoswingagainatBuffy—barelymissingher—whileignoringtheadvanceofAngel,Faith,andSpike.Buffydancedjustoutofhisway,jabbingathisgrabbinghandagain.
Angered,hetriedonemoretime.Thistime,Buffysidesteppedthehandbutcaughtthewristinbothofherhandsandpulled.AngelandFaithranpastthegiantashestruggledtotughisarmfromhergrip.Workingsoundlessly—again,Spikehadthesensethatthey’dpreparedthesemoves,butheunderstoodthatitjustcamefromworkingtogether—theyeachchosealegandpushedasBuffypulled.
Thegiantwentoverontohisheadandshouldersandtumbleddownthehillpastthem.
them.
“Biggertheyare—”Spikebegan.
“Don’tsayit,”Buffyordered.
“Infact,don’tsayanything,”Angelsaid.Histonewassharp.Hewasnotahappy-go-luckysortatthebestoftimes,butevenhislimitedpatienceseemedatanend.
“What’sbuggingyou?”Spikeasked.
“Youare.Youshouldn’tevenbehere,andwehavebetterthingstodo,andhereweareriskingourneckstosaveyou.”
“Youdon’tneedtosaveme,”Spikeinsisted.“I’mperfectlycapableofsavingmyself.”
“Didn’tlooklikeittome.Itlookedlikewesavedyourscrawnyhide.”
“IthinkI’vehadjustaboutenoughofyou,Angel,”Spikethreatened.HerearedbackandaimedarightjabatAngel’smanlyjaw—andthepaininhisheadfeltlikehisbrainwasexplodinginitsskullcavity.Heloweredhisarm.
“ThoughtIwasallhealedupforaminutethere,”hesaidglumly.“ThoughtmaybeIdidn’thaveachiphere.”
“Lookslikeyoudo,”Angelobserved.“Soyou’dbettertrycooperatingwithus.Dowhatyou’retoldandwe’llletyoutagalong.”
“Boys,”Faithcalled.Spiketurnedtoseeherstandinginfrontofaportalthathadmaterializedonthesideofthehill.“Ifyou’rethroughwithyourtestosteronerally,wehaveplacestogo.”
Spikenoticedthatbothbluemenweregettingtotheirfeet,lookinguptheslopeatthemlikeitwasdinnertimeandtheywerethemaincourse.“Allright,”hesaid,somewhathalfheartedly.“Iguessyou’llprobablyneedmyhelp,soI’llcomewithyou.”
“Thanks,Spike,”Buffysaid,soundingjustabittoocheerful.“AreyoustillintouchwithAlina,Faith?”
“That’swhyI’mstandingheresaying‘let’sgothisway,’Buff.YouthinkI’djustmakeitup?”
“Wouldn’tputanythingpastyou.”
“Ladies,”Angelsaid,steppingbetweenthem.“Nomorerallies.”
Theysteppedthrough.
*
Itfeltstrange,havingsomeoneelseinsideherhead,butthat’swhatitfeltliketoFaith—asifshecarriedAlinaalonglikeapassenger.TheRussiangirlseemedtobeabletoseeandheareverythingthatFaithsawandheard,andtheycouldconversewithoutactuallyusingtheirvoices.SheevensawAlina’sface,faintlysuperimposedovereverythingshelookedat,asifshewereseeingAlina’sreflectioninamirror.
ShecouldfeelWillow’spresence,too,alongwithWillow’sfriendTaraandtheoldlady,DoñaPilar,butshecouldn’tseethemlikeshecouldAlina—theyweremorelikeshadowswithoutsubstanceinhermind.
Shewashappytoputupwiththestrangeness,though,becauseitmeantthatthecontacthadn’tbeenbroken,thatAlina,throughthescienceofherRealityTracerandthemagick,orwhateveritwas,ofherhighlydevelopedpsychicpowers,wasgenuinelyleadingherfrompointtopointamongthenearlyinfinitenumberofAlternities.Alinacouldopenportalsatwillnow,andbetterthanthat,sheknewwherethey’dlead.
AlinaguidedFaith,andFaithguidedAngel,Buffy,andtheothers.Thatfeltstrange,too—butgoodstrange,shethought.They’refollowingwhereverItakethem.They’rerespectingme.Thatwasnew.Andshelikedit,alot.
ShetookthemthroughtheportalfromSpike’shillside,anditopenedinsideavastcity—buildingsasfarastheeyecouldsee,ineverydirection.Massesofpeoplemovedbrisklyalongcrowdedsidewalks,bumpingandjostlingeachotherwitheverystep,bututteringbarelyawordwhentheydid.Everyoneseemedinwardlyfocused,asif,withthismanypeopleinoneplace,privacycouldonlybeachievedbyignoringeveryoneexceptoneself.
JulianneMercerwashere,inthiscity.Theprettybrunettehadvanishedfroma
JulianneMercerwashere,inthiscity.TheprettybrunettehadvanishedfromaCowtownBurgerRanch,andshestillworetheuniformwhentheyfoundheronthehundredandninety-thirdfloorofabuilding—abouthalfwayupitstotalheight.Shehadstarteddownthestairswhenshearrivedatitsuppermostlevel,butshe’dhadtostoptorestandscroungefoodoccasionally,soshestillhadn’tmadeittostreetlevel.
Anotherportaltookthemtoastrangelandscapewheresteameruptedfromwidefissuresintheearth,andflamesdancedalongjaggedlineslikeearthboundlightning,andthedominantbeingswerehunchedover,wizenedcreatureswithsharpfangsandaseriousyenforhumanflesh.CheerleaderJulieMazullohadwounduphere,andhadspentwhatseemed,toherreckoning,aboutninehourshidingincavesthatwerenearlyashotasovens,andfullofhumanbones.
Throughtheportalsagain,afterbattlingseveralofthehuman-huntingthings,Faithledthegrowinggrouptowhatlookedlikeaparadise,withbig,healthytreesbearingripe,invitingfruits,beautifulflowers,sweetlysingingbirds,curiousbutshylittlemammalsthatlookedliketheybelongedinaDisneycartoon.Thedownsidewasthatitwasallthedomainofafeudallordwhokeptitpristinebyinstructinghissoldierstoimpaleanyonewhodareddisturbhisparadise—thehundredorsostakedbodiesscatteredamongthetreesandplantslookedlikeTitanicsurvivorsdog-paddlingtokeeptheirheadsabovewater.Twoteens,aboyandagirlfromElSegundo,hadvanishedtogetherandhadendeduphere.Thegirlhad,sofar,escapedbeingimpaled.Theboyhadnotbeensolucky.
Buffylookedbrokenhearted.“Noonesaidyou’dbeabletosavethemall,Buffy,”Faithtoldher.
“ButIwantedto,”Buffyreplied.“Canyouimaginetellinghisparentswhathappenedtohim?”
FaithtouchedBuffy’sarm—analiengesture,toher,showingBuffyaffectionorconcern.Buffyforcedasmile,andthenlookedawayquickly.
Reallygetstoher,Faiththought.Afterallthistime,savingpeople’slivesdayinanddayout,tomissjustonestilltearsherapart.Butsheknewstandingaroundheredwellingonthefailurewouldn’tdoanybodyanygood—therewerestillmoreplacestogo.Alinaopenedanotherdoorway,andtheywentthrough.
TonyTataglia,HalkaCzornik,JoeFrost,EricVicente—kidsnoneofthemhadeverheardof,spiritedfromeverypartofLosAngeleswhileAlina’sReality
everheardof,spiritedfromeverypartofLosAngeleswhileAlina’sRealityTracerwassettorandomlypluckteenagers—theyfoundthemall,rescuedthemfromdangerifneedbe,convincedthemtoleaveseeminglypleasantexistencesinacoupleofcases.
TonyTatagliarefused.Theylocatedhim,intherealitywhereAngelhadfoundhimselfsidetrackedbyTan-kia’speril.Tonyhadfoundhimselftheonlymaninacourtofyoungwomen—hewasthecenterofattention,andhelovedit.BuffyandAngelhadarguedwithhim,untilFaithfinallypointedoutthatthereweremorewaitingtoberescued,andtheycouldn’tforcehimtoaccompanythem.Whentheypassedthroughthenextportal,Tonywavedgood-byewithabroadsmileonhisface.
Asthegroupgrewlargerandlarger,FaithfeltmoreandmorePiedPiperish,thoughnotinthatcreepywaytherealstorywent.Sheknewshewasnottakingthekidsawayfromtheirfamilies;shewasbringingthemhome.
Thatmadeallthedifference.
Chapter16
LosAngeles
“ISREALLYWORKING!”ALINASAIDEXCITEDLY.HERFACElookedlikethatofaschoolgirlwhojustgotanotefromaboyshelikes—oragirl,Willowamended—hersmileshowinglotsofteeth,eyesgleaming,nosecrinkledindelight.Ofcourse,Willowcouldn’treallyseeher,butshe,Tara,andDoñaPilarallremainedpsychicallylinkedtoher,andavisualmanifestationofAlinacamewiththat.Theycouldall“see”oneanother,asiftheystoodtogetherinaroomofpurewhitewiththefaintesthintofrosepetalsscentingtheair.
Ofcourseitis,Willowsaid.YousaidtheTracerwouldwork,andwetoldyouwecouldhandletherest.
Butit...itissowonderful!Alinathought,apparentlyrememberingthatshedidn’thavetospeakoutloud.
Yes,child,DoñaPilaragreed.Itis.Butdonotloseyourfocusnow.Thereisworkyettobedone.
Iknow,DoñaPilar.I’msorry.
Thehardestpart,Willowknew,wasyettobedone.TheyhadmanagedtoleadFaiththroughtheAlternities,oneafteranother,followingthefaintenergytrailtheRealityTracermaintainedoneachoneofthem.Theganghadbeenabletoroundupalmostallthemissingkids.
Butnowtheyhadtobebroughthome—safely—throughtheportals.That,noonewasquitesure,couldbedone.Theythoughtitcould,aslongasoneofthepeoplewhocould,theoretically,travelsafelythroughtheAlternities,guided
themthroughtherightportalattherighttime.Butthatwasallguesswork,really.Noonehadactuallydoneit.
Sofar,sincegettingtheRealityTracerfixed,ithadworkedlikeacharm.AndtheworkthatshehaddonewithTaraandDoñaPilar,practicingthelinesofcommunication,hadpaidoff.Therehadn’tbeenasinglehiccuponthisend.
Which,shethought,isusuallywhenthingsgetjinxed.
“That’stheplace,”Chesaid.“AccordingtothoseRussiandudesweworkedover,they’rerealcarefultoguardthishouse.”“Whichmeans,”PepéVillaréalsaid,“there’ssomethingintheretheydon’twantustohave.”
“Yougotthatright,”Cheagreed.“Soweneedtogetin.”
Heglanceddowntheline.Thiswasamajoroperation—thebiggesthe’deverbeenpartof.Thereweretencarsherealready,parkedoneverysideoftheintersectionofMountVernonandFairway,withatleastthreeorfourguyspercar.Anotherhalf-dozenwereontheway.Everymanwasstrappedwithatleastahandgun,severalwithautos,somewithshotguns.Acoupleofgrenadeswereinthemix,too,andcansofgasoline,bottles,andrags,forMolotovcocktails.
Thefreakingwarhadgoneonlongenough.Chemetwithsomeoftheotherjefesafterthey’dlearnedofthisplace,anddecidedthathittingherewouldhelpbringittoaquickandvictoriousfinish.AnyplacetheRussiansweresoprotectiveofwouldhavetobeagoodstrategictarget.TheRussianguythey’dsnaggedafterabattledowninCrenshawhadwarnedthatthishousewaswellfortified,defendedwithmanytroops.He’ddiedbeforehecouldspillmuchmoredetailthanthat.Butthatwasokay,Chethought.Wegottheaddressandwegotthewarning.Weknowhowtotakecareofourselves.
Sofar,hehadn’tseenanyactivityatallfromthehouse.Itwasprettyobvious,ifsomeonebotheredtolookoutawindow,whatwasgoingon.ThehousewassurroundedbyEchoParkandEastSideKings,LatinCobrasoverfromSunnydale,evensomeValleyFlash,downfromBakersfield.
IfonlyNickygavemethatsecret,Chethought.IhadthatNightoftheLongKnivesgoingforme,Icouldjustwalkinthere,invincible,andthroweverybodyoutofthehouse.
ButNickyhadrefused,hadinsultedChebybreakingintohishouseandthreateninghim,andthenhadvanishedintothenight.ThenexttimeIseeNicky,Ikillhim,Chevowed.Justwhackhimrightthere,onthespot.Nohello,nogood-bye.
Aftertonight,hejustmightleadaraidonthedelaNatividadhouse,justforlaughs.Showthoserichfolkshowtheotherhalfdies.
Cheheardengines,caughtaglimpseofcarsheadinguptheroadwithoutheadlights.Therestofhispeople,then.Hehadnoticedmovementinsomeofthesurroundinghouses,flutteringcurtains,porchlightsshuttingoff.Hehalf-expectedthecopsanytime.Butthey’dshowupwithlightsandsirens,heknew,notquietanddark.Hewilledhisreinforcementstogetintoplacequickly,sotheycouldtakethehousebeforethecopsdidcome.
TherewassomethinginthathouseRussiangangswerewillingtodietoprotect.
Chewantedit.
Whateveritwas.
Whentheothercarshadpulledintoplace,theiroccupantsspilledontothestreets,hegavethesignal.
Asone,fiftygunsboomed.
Glassshattered.Outsideornamentation—white-paintedshutters,porchlights,securitylights,windowboxes—wereblowntobits.Chunksofwallblewout.
Ahazeofsmokehungoverthestreet.Chegaveanotherhandsignal,andthefiringstopped.Hisearsringing,Chestudiedthehouse.
Itlookedlikeahundredbulletshadhitit...butlittlerealdamagehadbeendone,herealized.Thereweren’troomsbehindthewindows,justmorewalls—wallsthatlookedlikegalvanizedsteel,wallsthatwithstoodthepunchofthebullets,dentingbutnotallowingpenetration.Samethingbehindthewalls—noneoftheirbulletshadactuallygonethrough.They’ddonecosmeticdamage,butnogenuineprogresswasmade.
“Dude,”Villaréalsaid.“That’sjustfreaky.It’slikeafortorsomething.”
“Something,yeah,”Chesaid.“Soit’llbetougherthanwethought.Makesitmorefun.”
Heraisedhisarmstogivethesignaltoresumefiring,butstoppedwhenheheardawhirringnoisefromthehouse,asoundlikeadozentinyelectricmotorshummingtolife.
Andthenhesawwherethenoiseoriginated.
Fromvantagepointsaroundthehouse,sectionsofthesteelwallsslidopenrevealingnarrowslots,notmuchmorethananinchwide,acoupleofincheshigh.
Fromtheslotspokedthebarrelsofbigguns.Notrifles,notpistols.
Machineguns.
“Down!”Checried.HethrewhimselftothedirtbehindanElDorado.
Thegunsstartedtobark.
Therewereonlymaybetwelveofthem,butthenoisewasmoredeafeningthanChe’sguys’fiftyguns.Big,loudcracks,onefollowingthenextwithhardlyanyspacebetween.Andthebulletsthatflewfromthesegunswerehuge,smashingintothecars,hittingChe’smen,trashinghousesacrossthestreet,punchingoutlightposts,rainingdeathallovertheintersection.
“Take’emout!”Cheordered,screamingtobeheardoverthedin.“Take’em!”
HeraisedhisgunovertheEl’shoodandfiredback,aimingfortheslots,figuringhecouldhitthegunmenoratleastplugordamagethebarrels.
Hemightaswellhavebeenblowingbubblesatit.
“Keepitup!”hecommanded.“Don’tletup!”
Hekeptfiring,leadingbyexample.Hesawhismendothesame.Armsstuckupoverthedoubtfulcoverofcars,gunsmoreorlesspointedatthehouse.Thefusilladecontinued.Chunksofplasterfleweverywhere.Metal-jacketedslugsslammedintothesteelinnerwalls,ricochetedoffwithazing,kickingupsparks.
Alsomebody,aguyCheknewfromBakersfield,camerunningoveratacrouch.HedroppeddownbehindtheEl,asawed-offshotguncradledinhisarms.Blooddrippedfromacutoverhiseyes.
“Dude,you’rehit!”Chesaid.
“It’sascratch,aricochetoffacar,Ithink.”
“Cool,”Chesaid.“What’sup?”
Alavoidedhisgaze.Therewasaquaverinhisvoice.“Ithinkwe’repullingout,man.”
“Pullingout?”Chespatinthestreet.“Youcan’t,ese.We’reunderseriousfire.Weneedeverygunwecanget!”
“Gunsdon’tmatter,Che.Lookatthathouse.We’vebeenshootingatitforfiveminutes.Anyotherhouse,thismanybulletsgoingintoit,everyoneinsidewouldbedeadbynow.There’dbebigfreakin’holesinthewallsyoucoulddriveatruckthrough.Butthisplace?It’slikeallwe’vedoneistickthemoff.”
“Thenweneedtofinishthejob,that’sall,”Cheinsisted.ThesightofAlwasbeginningtomakehimsick.Onescratch,alittlebloodspilled,andtheguywasreadytowalkaway.Sometimesyouneedtomakesacrifices,Chethought,forfriends.Puttheirneedsoveryourown.
“Thethingis,thisisn’treallyBakersfield’swar,”Alwenton.“It’sanL.A.thing.Itdon’tconcernus.”
“Thisiseveryone’swar,”Chehissed.HeleanedinclosetoAl,putonehandontheguy’sshotgunsohecouldn’traiseit.Thehandheusedhappenedtobetheoneclutchinghisnine,sothebarrelwaggedinfrontofAl’schest.“Theseguys,theseRussians,theyain’tgonnastopinLosAngeles.They’reeverywhere.EastCoast,Midwest,allover.ThemandtheEasternEuropeans,they’rethenewSicilians,youknow.Theywanttoruneverything.Thatincludesyouandme,BakersfieldandL.A.Everything.Wedon’tstopthemnow,thenwe’rejustrollingoverforthem.”
Alnodded,morefrightenednow.“Iknow,Che.Butmyguys,theydon’twanttodiehere.”
“Everyonegoessometime,Al,”Chereplied.
“Sometime.Nottoday.”
Cheleaneddownontheshotgun,pressingthebarrelofhisnineintoAl’schest.“Todayforyou,amigo,youtrytoleaveusherelikethis.”
“You-you’ddothat?”Alasked.Terrorwidenedhiseyes.Hislipsquiverednow,athinlineofdroolescapingthem.“You’djustoffmerighthere?”
“Righthere,rightnow.”
“Th-themotherguyswerer-right,”Alstammered.“Theysaidyouwasnuts,Che.Justcrazy,theytoldme.Ialwaysstuckupforyou,y’know?Ialwayssaid,notChe.He’sgotideas,he’sgotcojones,that’sall.Heain’tafraidtothinkbig.”
“You’rerightaboutthat,Alberto,”Cheagreed.Hefeltverycalmnow,pressuringAlevenasthethunderofthebiggunscontinuedtoroar,allbutdrowningoutthepop-pop-popofhisownpeople’sweapons.“Youaredefinitelyright.Idothinkbig.Iguessyourproblemisyoujustthinksmall.YouthinknothingcanevertouchBakersfield.You’reoverthereinthatvalley,acrossthegrapevine.Youthinkit’sstill1949orsomething,youcanwearazootsuit,swingyourchain,impresstheladies.Well,newsbulletin,Al.It’snot.Nowyougottohavebigideasandthestonestobackthemuporyou’reasextinctasthedinosaurs.”
Alseemedtoknowwhatwascoming.Heshookhisheadviolently,backandforth.Spittleandmucusflew,andhemadeakindofhitchingnoise,likeasobstuckinhisthroattryingtogetout.Chemaintainedhiscomposure,stillfeelinganamazingcalmashesqueezedthetriggerofhisgun.Therewasaloudreport,asprayofblooduphisarm,andAlfellintothestreet.Hisarmfloppedoutfrombehindthecar,andwasinstantlyblownoffbyaburstfromthehouse.
“Grenades!”Chescreamed.“Cocktails!Whatareyoupeoplewaitingfor?!”
Atthatdirection,someoftheguysbeganpouringgasolineintothesodaandbeerbottles,stuffingragsintothemouths,anddrippingsomemoregasontotherags.Othersheldgrenadesintheirhands,nervous.Veryfewofthemhadeveractuallyusedone.
“Here,”Chedemanded,holdingouthishandtoone.“Giveitoverhere.”
“Here,”Chedemanded,holdingouthishandtoone.“Giveitoverhere.”
Theguyhandedhimthegrenade.CheputhisbacktotheElDorado,tookthegrenade’spinbetweenhisteeth.“Likethis,”hesaid,mouthclampedaroundthepin.Hepulledthegrenadeaway,pinremaininginhismouth.Hespatitout,countedtofive,thenhurledthegrenadebackward,overhisheadandtheEl.Thenhespunaroundtowatchitland.
Itbouncedtwiceintheyardandcametorestupagainstthewallofthehouse.Halfasecondlater,itwentoff,atremendousburstoflightandnoiseandforce.Flameshotupthewall,sheetingoneofthegunslots.ChefeltaconcussionwaveallthewaybackattheEl.
Whenthecloudofsmokecleared,thegunatthatslotwasquiet,itsbarrelblackened.
Acheerwentupfromtheguys.
“Itworks!”Cheshouted.“Takeoutthoseotherguns,now!Let’emhaveit!”
Othersthrewgrenadesatthehouse,andMolotovcocktailsfollowed,explodingagainstthehouse’swallsandspreadingflameeverywhere.
“We’llbake’emout,”Villaréalsaidgleefully.“Justlikeanoven!”
Chenodded,smiling.Allittakesaresomestones,hethought.Itain’tnomagickspell,butit’sallright.
Whenthethunderstarted,Alina’sfirstthoughtwasthatastormhadblowninofftheocean.Butitdidn’tstop,didn’trollawaylikethunderstormsdid.Itjustbuilt.
“Whatisthat?”sheasked,concerninhervoice.
Donotbreakyourconcentration,DoñaPilarinstructed.
“But...”
Itsoundslikeshooting,Willowagreed.Lotsofit.
Willow—areyouokay?
Ithinkso,Tara.Alittlescared.Mydaughters...
Sorry,DoñaPilar.I’mworriedaboutAlina.Andme,Iguess.
I’mworriedaboutWillow,too.
Thethundertransformedintoarappingnoise,andgraduallyitbrokethroughWillow’sconsciousness.Someoneatthedooroftheirroom.Sheheardavoice.
“Willow!It’sRiley!Willow,openup!”
Riley...
Willow,no!DoñaPilar’s“voice”warned.
But—
Thenshebrokeitoff,rushingtothedoor.Shespunthelockandyankeditopen.
“Riley,what’sgoingon?”
“Firefight,”hesaid.“It’ssomekindofall-outinvasion.”
“Ofthishouse?”
“Thishousehassomedefensesyouwouldn’tbelieve,”Rileysaid.“AndmoretroopsthanIthought.You’dalmostthinkitwasanInitiativepost.”
“You’dalmostthinkthat,”Willowsaid.“I’dthinkitsoundedscary.”
Rileynodded.“Yeah,okay.Itis,kindof.Scary.Butsofar,sogood.Thehouseisholdingup.You’resafeinthisroom,andI’vegottheFloresessquirreledawayinanotherfortifiedroom.”
“Whataboutyou?”Willowasked.“YouknowBuffywouldhavemyheadifIletanythinghappentoyou.”
“I’mbeingcareful,”Rileyassuredher.“Believeme.Ihavenointerestingettinginthemiddleofthisfight.Butthatwon’tstopmeifIhaveto.”Helookedaroundtheroom.“Howarethingsgoinginhere?”
“Theyweregreat,”Willowconfessed.“Untilthegunfireinterruptedus.”Shedidn’tmentionhispersistentpoundingonthedoor.“ButnowI’mafraidwe’velostcontact.”
Rileylookedfreaked.HisfearforBuffywaspalpable,matchedonlybyWillow’sown.
“Butyoucangetitback,right?”heasked,hopefully.
“Ithink—sure.”Shebitherlipandsmiledpainfully.“Absolutely,Riley.”
Heventuredahalfheartedsmile.“Goforit.I’llwatchyourback.”
“’kay,”Willowagreed.“Becareful.Staysafe.”
“Gotit,”Rileysaid.Heleft,andWillowlockedthedoorbehindhim.
HergazemetAlina’s,andtheRussiangirl’seyesfilledwithtears.
“We’velostthem!”shewailed.
“She’sgone,”Faithannounced,asshelookedaround,hereyeswidening.Hervoicefeltstrangelyweak.
“Whatdoyoumean,gone?”Buffyasked.
“Like,gone!Howmanythingsdoesthatmean?Notthere!Vanished!Kaput!
Gone!”“Gone,”Angelechoed.
“I’mnothearin’this,”Spikesaid,shovinghisfistsintothepocketsofhisleatherduster.“Iamnothearingthis.AmI?”
“Ithinkyouare,”Buffysaid.“Isn’the,Faith?”
“Look,Idon’tknowwhattotellyou,”Faithsaid.“Shewasthereinmyhead,andthenshewasgone.”
Spikewavedahandaroundthem.Portalsopenedandclosedlikehungrymouthsinabird’snest,winkinginandoutofexistence.Alltheteenagerslookedonatthem,worryetchinglinesintheiryoungfaces.Beyondthemwasalandscapeof
them,worryetchinglinesintheiryoungfaces.Beyondthemwasalandscapeofurbandecay,burned-outbuildingsnevermadebyhumanhands,fallentowers,pilesofsmolderingrubbledottingthehorizon.“Sowhatdowedo?”heasked.“Whichoneofthesedoorwaysgoeshome?BecauseIhavetotellyou,Idon’tlikethisneighborhoodonebit.”
“Look,Icanfigurethisout,”Faithsaid.Theyhadlandedherethroughthelastportal,pickingupthefinalmissingkid,afriendofGunn’snamedMarcus.“Justchill,okay?Givemeaminute.”
Butshedidn’tfeelasconfidentasshehopedshesounded.She’dlikedtakingthelead,havingAlinaguideherthroughoneportalafteranother.She’dbeenincontrol,andtheothershadtolooktohertoshowthemtheway.Shehadledthemwithoutasinglewrongstep.She’dfelt—shealmosthatedtoadmitittoherself—she’dfeltlikeaSlayer.
Nowitwasallgone,allthecertaintyandconfidence.Shewasasstrongasever.Shecouldfightanyone,andwin.Butthewholeleadershipabilitythingwasasfragileasarobin’segg,anditwastiedtobeingabletodirectthemallthroughtherightportals,andnowthatwasgone.
Defeatwasn’tinFaith’svocabulary,though.Sheknewthatatanothertime,she’dhavetakenadvantageofasituationlikethistostepthroughoneofthequicklyvanishingportals,leavingtheothersbehind,alongwiththerestofherjailsentence.ASlayercouldgetalonganywhere,shefigured.Especiallysomeplacewheretheydidn’tknowher,whereshedidn’thavearecordorareptoliveupto.Shecouldpopthroughoneofthosedoorsandmakeherselfqueenofsomenewworld.
Sixmonthsago—hell,sixweeksago—Imighthavedoneit,shethought.Iwouldhavedoneit.
Putadifferentway—ifAngelhadn’tseensomethinginthatholewheremysoul’ssupposedtobe...
...Iwouldn’tbewhoIamrightnow.
Shelookedattheothers,whowerelookingather—lookinguptoher,willinghertohelpthem—andfeltstrongerthanever.Shefelt...good.
Igottatakemytemperature,shethought.Imustbefeverishorsomething.
“Look,Slayerjunior,”Spikeinterruptedherthoughts.“Idon’twanttoputanypressureoranythingonyou,butthelocalsarestartingtocomeoutoftheirhouses.Andtheydon’tlookliketheybloodywelllikevisitors.”
Spikewasright.Avarietyofcreatures—monsters,shesupposed,wouldbetheword—shuffledtowardthem.Monstersofeverycoloranddescription,fromtiny,many-fangedanklebiterstotoweringbeastswiththicknecksandclawedfeet.Theyflew,theywrithed,theyshambled.Theremusthavebeenahundredofthem.
“Spike,”Buffysaidcarefully.“Dotheylookfamiliar?”
“Theylooklikesoddingmonsters,Buffy,”Spikesnapped.“Whatmoredoyouneed?”
“Imean,thetypesofmonsters,”shepressed.“Thesheernumbersofthem.”
Besideher,Angelnodded.Faithwasn’twiththeprogram,andfeltstupid.B’salwaysgottabethesmartone...
“Thinkin’swhatIdobest,”Spikeshotback.“Orsecondbest.Waitasecond...”
Buffypressed.“YouseewhatI’mgettingat?”
Thebleach-blondvamptookinventoryatthegatheringgroupsofthegrossandtherestless.“Kindofconverging,”hesaid,“massin’forarumble.”’
“Orforsomethingelse,”Angelputin.“Awfullotofthem.”
“Notreally.Thoseareasmanyaslivearoundhere,”Marcussaid.“Propertyvaluesareallgonetoseed.”Helookedgratefulatthefantasticfour,Slayer,Slayer,vampire,vampire.“NowyouseewhyIwasgladyoufolksshowedup.”
“Gettin’warmer,”Spikesaid.“Lottamonsters,someweseenintheol’dale...”
“SothiswastherealitythatopenedontoSunnydale!”Buffywenton,herexcitementbuilding.Angelnodded.
“Butwhichdoorisit?”Faithasked,astheportalsblinkedaroundthem.
“Butwhichdoorisit?”Faithasked,astheportalsblinkedaroundthem.
“Thatdoor’sclosed,remember,Slayer?”Spikepointedout.“NoguaranteeanyotheronewilltakeustoSunnydale.It’sjustaslikelytodropusinPomonaorsomeotherhellishplace.”Heshivered.“Agingboomersandladieswithbluehair.”
“Rightnow,I’dsettleforPomona,”Faithtoldhim.“I’dkissthegroundinPomona.”
“Youneverdidhaveanystandards,”Spikeflung.“Andthosemonsters?They’recomingcloser.Picksomething!”
Thingsshambledtowardthem.Tallandpurple,amorphous,jellylikebeaststhatrolledalong,leavingtrailsofanimalbonesandslime;greententacledlumps;acoupleofLindworms,andhorned,furredbeaststhatlookedlikeacrossbetweenayakandSasquatchpickeduptheirscent,becomingawareofthegroupofhumans.Thesmellwasunbelievableasthingsslitheredandrolledandslidalongtheground.Thekidsstartedtopanic,andAngelandBuffymovedintoattackmodeasFaithlookedattheportals.
Wink,wink,wink.Theycameandwent,sometimesstayingforaminuteormore,sometimesscantseconds.Alina?shethought.Willow?Whereareyou?
“Whatarewesupposedtodo?”oneoftherescueespipedup.
“We’regoingtodie!”someoneshrieked.
“Chill,”Faithbarked,thentookabreath.“It’sgonnabeokay.”SheglancedatAngel,whonoddedgrimly.
“We’llmakeitokay,”Angelgrittedback.
Chapter17
FEARWASANUNCOMFORTABLESENSATIONFORFAITH,panicevenmoreso.Rightnow,shefeltalittleofboth,andtogethertheythreatenedtooverwhelmher.Sheknewshecouldkickmonstertailwhennecessary;socouldBuffy,Angel,andSpike.Buteventhefourofthem—fourofthetoughestfighterstheirEarthhadtooffer—couldn’thopetotakeonanentiredimensionofangrycreatures,especiallywithclosetofiftyteenagersintowwhotheyhadtokeepsafe.
“Wheredowego,Faith?”Spikequestioned.“Pickonealready!”
“DoyouthinkIshould?”Faithasked,tonooneinparticular.
“Whereverweendup,itcouldn’tbemuchworsethanhere,couldit?”Buffyasked.“Imean,unlesswedropstraightintothelandofkillerclowns,orsomething,which,youknow,clowns.Brrr!”Sheshivered.
“Okay,”Faithreplied,withafaintgrin.Summers,you’resuchageek.Shepointedtoaportal,atrandom.“Thatone.”
Someoftheteensstartedtofiletowardtheportalsheindicated—which,suddenly,winkedoutofexistence.
Shesaid,“Ornot.”
“Hangloose,”Angeladvisedher.“TrytofindAlinaagain.”
Behindher,sheheardthesoundsofthemonsterscomingcloser—roars,groans,theclankofarmorandchain,thecreakofleatherlikeskin,thehuffofbreathandthegnashingofteeth.Notimeleftevenforeeniemeenieminiemoe,shethought.Theyneededtobeoutofhere,anditneededtobe—
“Rightthere!”Willow’svoicesoundedinsideherhead,almostasclearlyasifWillowstoodnexttoher.
“Willow?”Faithcried,glancingaround.
“Youseeher?”Angelaskedher.
“No.NotlikeIsawAlina.”Faithbrushedherhairoutofhereyes.“She’sinmyhead.”
Buffyglancedathersharply.“You’relying.Youdon’twanttogoback.”
Thenthemonsterscharged,justasifsomeonehadshouted,well,“Charge!”Rushesofgreenandblursofseepingwoundsandtentaclesandwhipliketailsandfangscameatthem.
“Stayfocused!”AngelbarkedatFaith,asshegotreadyforslayage,comingupbesidehimandBuffyastheyracedtowardthecreatures.“Workontheportal!”
“But—”sheprotested.
“Faith,doit!”Angelinsisted.“You’retheonewhocandoit!”
ThenheandBuffytookonthefirstphalanxofattackers,movinginthesamekindofcoordinated-but-unplannedballetofviolencesheandBuffyhadgottensogoodat—synchingup,goingforit,withroundkicksandhardchopsandrabbitpunchestothesoftorsquishyplaces.Hunksofmonsterwentflyingasthetwodidtheirthing;thekidsstartedtofreakandscatter,andFaithrealizedthatifshedidn’thurryupandpick,theyweregoingtolosetheteenagersandprobablyjustplaindie.
Andthen...
FaithsawtheMayor.
Hestoodsmilinginanimbusofshimmeringlight,hisarmsoutstretched,inhishumanform.Heworeachambrayshirtandapairofkhakitrousers,andhelookedthesameashehadinlife.Withthesamebrownishhair,thesametwinkleinhiseyes,hewasthereagain,forher.Evil,yes,buthelovedher.Hebelievedinher.Hecherishedher.
Andtherewasthepicnic,spreadoutonthecheckeredclothbehindhim.Chickenandpotatosalad,sodasincans.Anold-fashionedstrawbasket;therewasprobablychocolatecakeinside,maybeevenhomemade,notsimplypurchasedatthebakerysectionofagrocerystore...
“Theroadnottraveled,”theMayorwhispered.“Wecandoit,Faith.Wecanhaveit.”
Theworldaroundherseemedtoshift,tobecomeakaleidoscopeofflickeringbitsandpieces,soveryinsubstantialandunreal.Everythingthathadhappenedtoherwaftedaroundherlikepaper-thinpiecesoffilmnegatives,losingdefinition,blurringintooptionsthatshehadtriedtopretendshedidn’thave.
“Youcanrollthatreelbackup,”theMayorassuredher.“Takeitoutoftheprojectorandcomewithme,Faith.I’llprotectyou.I’lltakecareofyou.”
*
“Faith!Figureitout!”Buffyshouted.
Atoweringhunkoffangsandtalonsslicedather.Suddenlybloodspurtedacrosshercheekatthesametimethatapiercing,sharpjabrippedthroughthesmallofherback.Asshetriedtolandagood,harddoublesidekicksomewherewheresharpnesswasnot,shethought,Damn,we’regonnalosethisone.
“Angel?”sheshouted,buttheroarsandgrowlsandscreamsweresothickthatitwaslikeshewasseeingsounds.Chaoswhirledanddervishedallaroundher,andtherewassomuchofit,sothickandrelentless,thatshecouldn’tpickoutoneobjectfromanother.Shewassurroundedbystuffofthebad—skinsandhidesandteethandstingersandnothinggood,nothingthatwasafriend,nothingthatcouldsaveherorhelphersaveanyoneelse—
Angelwalkeduptoherinthegentlesunshineoftheglade.Dropletsofwaterglitteredinhishairandhiseyelashes.Hechuckledandheldoutahandtoher.Hewasholdingafresh,juicypeach,andhehadtakenabite.
Shetookhishand,andhisfleshwaswarm.Hisfingerscurvedaroundhersandbroughthergentlytohim.Herknucklesrestedonhischest,andthesteady,goodrhythmofhisheartbeatthrilledher.
Heliftedthepeachtoherlipsandshebitintothesucculent,sweetfruit.Itwasthemostdeliciousthingshehadevereateninherlife.Hecaughtalittletrickleofjuicecomingfromthesideofhermouthandhissmilegrew.
“Comelivewithme,andbemylove,”hesaid.Heseemedtoglowwithloveandwarmth,allhisattentionfocusedonher.Hisworldwasher.“Wecanbehere,together.”
“Yes,”shesaid.“Wecan.”
Theycouldlivehere,andmarry,andhavechildren.ShecouldhavechildrenwithAngel.Shecouldbeamother.
Shecouldlaydownherweaponsandbringlifeintotheworld.Whatgreaterdestinywasthere?TobeAngel’sChosenOne,andspendherdaysbaskinginhisjoy,bringinghimpleasure,receivingsomuchinreturn.
“Comewithme,”heurged.“Buffy,it’snottoolate.Walkthroughtheportaland—”
“Oh,crikey,we’redoomed,”Spikewailed.“We’regonnableedin’die!”
“NotifIcanhelpit,”Buffyshouted,pummelingasolidwallofred,oozingmonsterslabinconcertwithAngel.“Faith!”
I’vebeentemptedbefore,Angelthought.
Butthistime,youareofferedatruealternatereality,saidafigurestandinginabrilliantsilvery-whitelight.ThePowersThatBegiveyouthischange.It’snotest.
Stepthrough,Angel.It’sthepeaceyouseek.Theliftingoftheburden.
Therewillbenoretribution.Noconsequences.
Onlypeace.
AndAngel,theonlyvampireintheworldwhohadasoul,sawnothingbutthelight.Hehadnovisionsofotherlives,oroflovedones—notevenBuffy.Allhesawwasthatprecious,beautifulglow,anditbegantospreadoverhim.Warmth
sawwasthatprecious,beautifulglow,anditbegantospreadoverhim.Warmthandeaseseepedintoeveryfiberofhisbeing,theveryfabricofhissoul.
Rest,wearyone.
Heclosedhiseyesandbegantoletgo.
AndthenheopenedthemandjoinedBuffyassherabbit-punchedtheslab,drivingitbackward.Sheflashedhimanod.“Thanks.”
“Stoppanicking!”Faithshouted,roundingupthefrightenedteenagerslikesomanycows.
“Whatdowedo?”oneofthembellowedather,hisfaceatotalmaskoffear.Hehadagoateeandashavedhead,anearring,andhewassoscaredhisnosewasrunning.“Telluswhattodo!”
Faithrealizedtheyhadplacedtheirdestinyinherhands.Handeditover,trustingher.Shehadbroughtthemhere.Shehadtogetthemout.
ThenshefeltWillow,strongandreal.Shecouldseetheredhead,handsjoinedwiththeothergirl,eyesclosed,Tarasomehowthereandnotthere.AndRiley,andguns,andholycow,grenades?—andsheknew,suddenly,thatforher,therewasonlyonedoor:theonemarkedwithhername,andherdestiny.
Come,Willowurged.Don’tbeafraid.
Theportalshimmereddirectlyinfrontofher.
Igothroughit,Imightdie,shethought.
Come.Willowwasthere,solid,real.
ShegrabbedShavedHeadbytheshoulderandhustledhimtotheportal.“Thatone!Hurry!Go!”
Theteensreactedtotheurgencyinhervoice—andtotheslewofmonstersclosingonthem,AngelandBuffytotallyoutnumbered,backinguptowardher.
“You’resureofthatone,Faith?”Angelaskedher,askidafterkidbeganleapingintothelight,anddisappearing.
intothelight,anddisappearing.
Faithhustledthem,thinkingofTitanic,whichshehadseeninprisonfive,maybesixtimes.“Willowsaysthat’stheone.”
“Willow?IthoughtyouwerecommuningwithAlina,”Spikeyelled,hisvoicesuspicious.
AllFaithsaidwas,“Changeofplans.”
SheandAngelsharedalook.Sheraisedherchin.
“Hell,”Spikesaid.
Butashesteppedtowardtheportal,itvanishedjustassuddenlyasthelastonehad.
“Nicemove,SlayerJunior,”Spikesaid,comingupshort.“You’vejustlostallthosesoddingkidswe’vebeenchasingaroundafter.”
“No!”Faithscreamed,fearandrageandfrustrationpouringoutofherinequalmeasures.
Thenanenormous,furredthingroaredupontwolegs,hoveringoverBuffyandAngel,andFaithflungherselftowardit,knockingBuffyoutoftheway.
“Portal,”Angelshoutedather.“Faith,concentrate!”
“Gotta...”Faithsaid,astheoneofthecreature’sarmsarceddownwardandslammedintotheground,inchesfromhertoes.Thegroundsplit,smokeandfireskyrocketingupwardlikeageyserofoil.
“Come,”Willowsaid.
Willow’spresencewasstrongerthanthis.FaithcouldalmostseeWillow,asifshestoodontheothersideofsomesemitransparentwindowpane,withthoseothertwo,TaraandDoñaPilar,standingbehindher.
“It’sokay,”Willow’svoicesaid.“Look.”
AndasFaithglancedaround,sherealizedallthekidsweregone.Itwasjusther,Spike,Angel,andBuffy.Andajillionmonsters.
Spike,Angel,andBuffy.Andajillionmonsters.
“They’vegonehome,”Willowsaid.“It’syourturn.”
Anewportalopened.Itflickered,thenstabilized,hoveringabouttwofeetofftheground.
Withoutaword,FaithgrabbedSpikeandshovedhimthrough.Hedisappeared.
“Angel!”Faithyelled.
“Yougo,Faith,”heyelledback.
“Ihavetobelast,”shesaid.“Incasethere’ssomeotherchangeofplans.”
“Buffy.You,”AngelshoutedtotheotherSlayer,asshetwirledintheair,executingagreat360-degreeturnandslammingbothheelsintothethighofthefurredbeast.ThemonstertotteredslightlybackwardasBuffylandedinasquat.
BeforeBuffyhadtimetorise,Faithgrabbedherwristsandheavedherthroughtheportal.
“Younext,”FaithsaidtoAngel,asheflickedhisattentionfromthetallwhitethingtotheportal.
Thentoher.Theysharedalook.
HethinksI’mgonnabail,shethought,hurt.ThinksI’mlookingforthewayout.
“I’llseeya,”shepromised.
Theragingcreatureregaineditsfootingandlurchedtowardthemboth.
Angelsteppedthroughthedoorway.Faithwatchedhimgo,andtookabreath.Then,asWillow’sformgazedather,Faithsaid,“Coming,Willow,”andsteppedthrough,too.
Foraninstant,therewasthegut-churningsensationofeverythingandnothing,allatthesametime,andthenshecameoutontheotherside.
Angel’slookofpridewasthefirstthingshesaw.
Buffydidn’trecognizetheplace—theVishnikoffhouseinHawthorne—butAlinaandWillowwerethere,withalittlemachinesheguessedwastheRealityTracer.Alinalookedstressedbuthappytoseethem.Willow,thoughphysicallypresent,wasinatrancestate,notreallythereatall.Then,whenFaithstumbledintoexistence,Willow’seyessnappedopenandabeamingsmilecrossedherface.
“You’reback!Allofyou!”Willowcried.
“Whataboutthekids?”Buffyaskedher,lookingaround.
Willownodded.“Good.Alinahadthehardesttimefiguringitout,especiallywithallthenoiseand,like,shootingandstuffgoingon,but—”
“Shooting?”
“—butsheriggeditsothekidswouldallgobacktoexactlywherevertheywerewhentheyvanishedinthefirstplace.Kindofiffyforsomeofthem,butsaferthanhere.They’llhaveonlyhazymemories.Everyonewillthinktheyweredrugged.”
Alinanodded,lookingverytiredbutpleased.
“That’sgreat,butshooting?”Buffyrepeated.Shecouldhearit,thoughthisroomseemedtobeprettywellinsulated.AngelandFaithweremovingthroughtheroom,allthreeofthemlookingatWillowforclarification.
“Well,we’rekindofundersiegeorsomethinglikethat,”Willowexplained.Shemadeaface.“Kindamedieval,huh?”
“I’muptoherewithmedieval,”Buffysaid.“Whatsiege?”
“War,”Willowexplained.“Gangs,whowanttheRealityTracer,andotherbadguys,and...where’sSpike?”
Buffyglancedaround.“Didn’theshow?”Thenshesaid,“Where’sRiley?”
Atthatmoment,shelockedgazeswithAngelandshethought,Thisisreality.This.Riley.Not...notanythingelse.
Asifhehadreadhermind,hemovedawayfromher.Keepinghisdistance.LikeIshouldkeepmine.
“Iseveryoneokay?”Angelasked.“Alina?”
“Thishouse—itlookslikearegularhouse,fromtheoutside,”Alinatoldthem.“Butthewalls,thewindows,allreinforcedsteel,bulletproof.Wecansurviveforalongtimeinhere.Andsurelythepolicewillcome.”
“Which,seemslike,yourfolksmightnotlike,”Buffypointedout.“Sincethey’llwanttocomeinsideandall.”
“NeveragainwillIusethatmachine,”Alinaannounced,andtherewassomethinginhervoice—asenseoflettinggo,ofsurrender—thattouchedBuffydeeply.
Realitycheckforher,too,Buffythought.She’sgonnabeokay,somehow,afterallthisisoverforher.
Beforeanyoneelsecouldspeak,thedoorburstopenandRileystrodein.Hecrossedtoherandsweptherintohisarms,hislipsfindinghers.Shegavehimthismoment,andletherselfrestinhisarms,thenpulledaway.
“Firefight,”Rileyshorthanded.“TheVishnikoffs’friendshavesomegoodgear,butthey’rekindofoutnumbered.TheFloresfamilyishere,Angel,inoneoftheinternalsaferooms.They’refine.”
“Good,”Angelsaid.
“What’stheplan?”Faithaskedbrightly.
“Kickass,”Buffysaid,grinningather.
“Onboard.”Faiththrewbackherheadandlaughed.
OutsidethehouseatthecornerofMountVernonandFairway,thesceneresembledanurbanbattleground.MembersoftheEchoParkBand,alongwithLatinCobrasfromSunnydaleandmembersofadozenotherHispanicgangs,hadbulliedpeoplefromtheirhomes,surroundedthehousewithcars,andusedthosehomesandcarsascoverfromwhichtofireontheVishnikoffhouse.Russiansinsidethehousereturnedfirethroughspecialgunportsbuiltintothe
Russiansinsidethehousereturnedfirethroughspecialgunportsbuiltintothewalls.Theneighboringhouses,bythistime,werebullet-riddled,windowssmashed,wallsmissingchunks.Everycarontheblockhadlostitsglassandtires.
Sirenswailedaspoliceandparamedicsclosedinonthearea.Eveninfullriotgear,thepolicewerehesitanttogettooclose,becausethegangsfeltnocompunctionaboutfiringuponthemaswellaseachother,andtherewasalotofleadflyingthroughtheair.Thepolicesurroundedtheneighborhood,hustledresidentsoutoftheirhomestosafety,andhopedtoatleastcontaintheworstofit.Atsomepoint,thecombatantswouldrunoutofammo,andthentheycouldgoinandsweepup.
KateLockleypacedfuriouslybehindthepolicelines.ShehadlearnedaboutthisplacefromtheMexicangangmembersshehadmet,butbythetimeshegothere,thefirefighthadbegunandshe’dhadtoholdback.Thenthelocalshadshownup.Shewaswayoutofherterritoryhere;herbadgegrantedherpermissiontostay,andnoonewaslikelytotakethetimetoshooheroff,anyway.Butshedidn’tknowanyofthesecops,andnoonefromherowndivisionwouldshowuphere,thisfarfromhome.TheforcehereconsistedofHawthornecops—mostofthem,sheguessed—someL.A.CountySheriff’sofficers,evensomeStaties.TherewastalkaboutbringingintheNationalGuard,withtanks,ifthingsdidn’tquietdownsoon.Katethoughtthatmightnotbeabadidea.Shejustdidn’twantthehouserazed,orbreachedbythegangs,beforeshecouldgetinthere.Shehadafeeling,whichtherumorstheMexicanshadheardseemedtoconfirm,thatinsidethathousewasthekeytoeverythingthathadbeengoingon.Thedisappearances,thegangconflict,eventheoilfieldfireinSunnydaleshe’dheardabout—allofitcenteredsomehowaroundtheVishnikoffs.
Shehadconfirmed,drivingone-handedandusingthemobilecomputerterminalbeinginstalledinallLAPDvehicles,thatthehouseshe’dbeentoldaboutdidindeedbelongtotheVishnikoffs.Further,shehadfoundthattherewassomethingunusualaboutitsconstruction—ithadbeenbuiltduringthepostwarhousingboom,alongwiththerestoftheneighborhood,butafterbeingsoldtotheVishnikoffsafewyearsbefore,ithadbeentorndownandrebuiltfromscratch,tolookidenticaltothehousethathadstoodtherebefore.Fromtheoutside.Everyindicationwasthatitwasquitedifferentontheinside,buttherecords,theinspectionreports—allthepaperworkpertainingtotheconstructionjob—hadbeenstolenfromcityoffices.
constructionjob—hadbeenstolenfromcityoffices.
Shehadtogetintothathouse.
Asshestaredatit,willingherselfinside,sheheardthegrowlofabigtruck,grindingthroughthegearsasitapproached.Itwasmovingfast.
Mischahadthoughthisownpsychicabilitieswereprettyimpressiveuntilhe’dcometoknowAlina,andlearnedjusthowpowerfulamindcouldreallybe.Nowherealizedhisabilitieswerelittlemorethanparlortricks,thethingsanyonewithalittletrainingandpracticecouldlearntodoifonlytheyacceptedthattheycould.
Fortunatelyforhim,mostpeoplehadnotfiguredoutwhattheirbrainswerecapableof,whichmeantthatevensomeonewithhislimitedskillscouldovercometheirresistance.Atthemoment,thatmeantthedriveroftheeighteen-wheelerhe’dcommandeeredbackatthetruckstopinthedesert.They’ddrivennonstop,Mischagrippingthedriver’smindanddirectinghimeverymileoftheway,pushingthelimitsofhisownenduranceandthetruck’shugeengine.Alltheway,MischahadworriedaboutAlina.Hehadn’tdaredtrytocontacthermentally—allhisearlierattemptshadbeenfruitless,andhedidn’twanttorelinquishcontrolofthetruckerlongenoughtodoitagain—andthoughheusedthedriver’scellphonetocallthehouseinHawthorne,noonehadansweredallnight.
Now,Alina’sneighborhoodcameintoview—anditwassurroundedbypolicecars,ambulances,armedofficersinhelmetsandbodyarmor.Mischa’seyeswidenedatthesight,butRJ,thedriver,remainedhunchedoverthewheel,staringstraightahead,hiseyesreactingtothechangingroadconditionsandnothingelse.Mischafeltsorryfortheman—whenhewasfinallyfreedfromMischa’smentalgrip,he’dwonderhowhegotsofaroffcourseandhowhisnewlyfilledgastankcouldhavebecomesoempty.
Someofthepoliceofficerssawthetruckbearingdownonthem,andtheyshouted,wavedtheirarms,raisedtheirweapons.Mischaduckedbehindthedashincasetheyopenedfire,andwilledRJtokeepgoing.RJhadnochoiceinthematter.Hespedon,shiftingupasthegroundleveledoffatthetopoftherise.
Mischaheardscreamsfromthepolice,heardthereportsofgunsandthefrighteningsoundofbulletspunchingthroughthetruck’smetalskin.Butthebigmachinekeptrolling,evenasitsfrontbumperplowedthroughthetailendofa
machinekeptrolling,evenasitsfrontbumperplowedthroughthetailendofapolicecarparkedsidewaysacrossthestreet.Metalscreamed,glassbroke.Thetruckkeptgoing.
Takinganotherlookoutthewindshield,miraculouslyuntouched,Mischasawthattheyhadcomethroughthepoliceline.Aheadofthemwasthehouse.Itwassurroundedbycars,andbehindthecars,gangmemberswithgunsfiredatit.Butasthetruckthundereditsapproach,theystoppedlookingatthehouseandturnedtolookattheMackinstead,expressionsoffearpaintingtheirfacesasitcame.Mischaaimedthedriveratthecornerthehousesaton.Twocarshadbeenparkedonthelawn.
Thehugetrucklurchedontothesidewalk.Gangstersscatteredbeforeitsrelentlessapproach.Finally,atthelastpossiblemoment,Mischawilledthedrivertobrake,andthemanstompeddownonthepedal,lockingit.Thetruckbarreledintotheparkedcars,crashingintothem,demolishingthem,andskiddedasitdidso,itstrailerfishtailingbehindit,threateningtotipthewholevehiclewithuncheckedmomentum.
Mischawasoutthedoorevenasitcametoashuddering,smokingstop,andrunningforthehouse.
KateLockley,inthewakeofthetruck’spassing,brokeintoarunbehindit,drawingherserviceautomatic.Thisisit,shethought,notreallyknowingwhat“it”was.Shejusthadafeelingthatthetruckwasthethingthatwasgoingtobreakthesituationwideopen,andshewantedtobethere.Sheknewitwasstupid,reckless—shewasn’tevenwearingaKevlarvest—butshedidn’tcare.
Whenthetruckstoppedandtheyoungmanjumpedout,shefroze,fixinghiminhersights.Adozengangmemberspointedweaponsather.Theyoungmanignoredallofthem,makingforthefrontdoor.Oddly,thepeopleinsidethehousedidn’tfireathim.
“Holdit!”Kateshouted.“I’mgoinginwithyou.”
Theyoungmanlookedatherforamoment,thenturnedaway,headingupthewalkwaytothehousewithoutanswering.
“Anyonegoesinthathouse,Mama,”oneofthegangmemberscalled,“wealldo!”
Theyoungmanwasalmostatthedoorwhenitburstopen,andsomefamiliarfigureschargedout.Angel,Buffyandherboyfriend,themilitary-lookingguywhosenameKatecouldn’tremember,ifshe’deverknownit,FaithandWillowemergedfromthehouseatarun.Buffytookarunningleap,twirlingovertwiceinmidair,andlandedinthemidstofsomeofthosewhoheldtheirgunsonKate.Fistsandfeetflew,andinaninstant,theyweredisarmed.Angelaimedhimselfatanotherclutchofgangmembers,whippinganautomaticriflefromthehandsofoneandusingittoknocktheothersaside.Faith—whoKatehadheardhadbeenabductedfromthejailinsomekindofhostagegrab—dovetowardamanwhoheldtwoautomaticpistols,slamminghiminthegutanddrivinghimtothegroundbeforehecouldfireeitherone.Rileyhurledhimselfatacoupleofgangsterstryingtobeataretreat,wrestlingtheirgunsaway.
Watchingallthis,Katedidn’tevenseetheguylyingonthegroundwithashotgununtilhealreadyhadherinhissightsandhisfingerwasclosingonthetrigger.
“Kate,lookout!”Angelshouted.
Sheturned,feelinglikesuddenlythingswerehappeninginslowmotion.
Angellaunchedhimselfintotheair,butitwastoomuchground,evenforhim,tocoverbeforethegundischarged.
Sheheardtheboomasifitwerefarawaysomewhere,sawthepuffofsmokeandtheburstoffirefromitsmuzzle,sawtheshotasitrushedfromthebarrel,scatteringasitcametowardher.Sheknewthatwhenithitheritwouldstillbeconcentratedenoughtoriphertoshreds.
Butitdidn’thither.
Itstopped,inmidair.
Katecouldseeeachindividualpelletofshot,somanytinybeadsofsteel,hangingthere,frozenintime.
Then,afterstoppingthereforamoment,italldroppedharmlesslytotheground,bouncingonthewalklikeasudden,tinyrainshower.
Stillinslo-mo,Kateturnedbacktothehouse.
Thatisn’tsomething,shethought,thatAngelorBuffycando.Unlessthey’vegottalentsIhaven’theardabout.
Butwhenshelookedatthehouse,shesawaMexicanmanstandinginthedoorway,middle-aged,alittlepaunchy.SherecognizedRojelioFlores,whosepolicereportshehadreadafterAngeltookuphiscause.Hisfacewasflushedwitheffort,sweatpouredfromhisforeheadandsoakedhisshirt.Hestaredattheshooter,and,followinghisgaze,Katesawthattheman’sshotgunhadremoveditselffromhishandsandwasfloatingintotheair,adozenfeetupandrising.
TheyoungmanfromthetruckstartedtopushpastFlores,butthenAlinaappearedinthedoorway,steppedthrough,andranintohisarms.Theyheldeachothertightforalongmoment.
ForKate,theapparentslowmotiontimingofthingsstoppedthen,thenormalacceleratedrateoftheworldresumed.Voicesshouted,feetslappedpavement—thecopsadvancingonthecorner.Nomoregunswerefired,though.Thebattle,itseemed,wasoverfornow.
“Buffy,ismyfriendMischa,”Alinasaidexcitedly.“HehasjustcomefromArizona.”
Buffychuckled.“Isaw.Inabigtruck.”
“NotallthewayfromArizona.AndIhopethedriverisn’thurt,”Mischasaid.
“He’snot,”Angelinformedhim.“Justreallyconfused.”
“That’sgood.”
Alinaledthewayinsidethehouse—sheandMischafirst,followedbyBuffy,Angel,andtherest.
“I’mgoingtowantsomeexplanations,”Katesaid.“Andfast.”
“Youwantthetruth?”Angelaskedher.
Shescowledathim.“I’dlikethat.ButIalsowantsomethingIcantellthetwohundredcopswhowillbehereinaboutthirtyseconds.”
“Swampgasisalwaysagoodone,”Willowsuggested.“Ormasshallucination.”
“Swampgasisalwaysagoodone,”Willowsuggested.“Ormasshallucination.”
“Thanksloads,”Katesaid.“Itakeityourlittlemachineisworkingagain,Alina?”
“Fornow,yes.ButIintendtodestroyit.”
“That’dbeanexcellentidea,”Kateagreed.
Alinapushedopenthedoortoherroom,andfrozejustinsideit.BuffyreleasedRiley’shandandcameupbehindher,shovingpastMischa.“What?”sheasked.
Butassheenteredtheroom,shesawwhat.Therewasanotherportalthere,hangingintheroom.Twopeopleweresteppingthroughitevenasshewatched.
“Mama!”Alinacalledout,emotionmakinghervoicequake.“Father!”
Themanintheportalstartedtoturnaroundatthesoundofhisdaughter’svoice.Buffythoughtmaybehewouldcomeback,buthejustlookedatAlina,loveandregretminglinginhiseyes,andthentheportalwasgoneasifithadneverexisted.Alina’sparentshaddisappeared.
“No!”Alinacried.“Comeback!”Sherushedtothemachine,butbeforesheevenreachedit,smokebegantobillowfrominsideit.
“Lookout!”Willowshouted.BuffygrabbedAlinaandyankedherawayfromtheRealityTracer,spinningaroundsothegirl’sbodywasshieldedbyherown.Asshedid,itexplodedwithabang,bitsofmetalandplasticflyingallovertheroom.Buffyfeltsomeofthedebrisbiteintoherbackandlegs.
WhenshereleasedAlinaandturnedback,Rileywasalreadyonhisknees,lookingattheruinedshell.“Looksliketheyplantedasmallchargeinitbeforetheywent,”hesaid.“Notenoughtohurtanyone,justalittleshapedchargetowreckthemachine.”Hepaused,lookingatAlina,concernetchinghisattractiveface.“Liketheydidn’twanttobefollowed,”hecontinued.“Orbroughtback.”
AlinasobbedinMischa’sarms.Buffyputahandonhershoulder,butknewtherewasreallynothingshecoulddotomakeitbetter.Thegirl’sparentshadwalkedoutonher,abandonedherherewhentheirpoliticaldreamsfellapart.
Rileyseemedtounderstandimmediately.HeheldBuffyinhisstrongarms.
Rileyseemedtounderstandimmediately.HeheldBuffyinhisstrongarms.“Maybethere’sanotherrealityoutthere,”hesaid,“wheretheirSovietUnionstillexists,orevenamorebenevolentone,someplacetheprinciplesofCommunismaren’tmarredbythetotalitarianswhoranthisone.Maybewherethey’vegone,theystillhaveadaughter.There’snotelling,isthere?”
Buffyshookherhead.“Notwithsomanypossibilities,”shesaid.
“Aninfinitenumberofthem.”
“Aninfinitenumber.Andwecanonlyseeoneatatime.”
“Buffy,”Rileysaidsoftly.“TheonlyoneIwanttoseeistheonewithyouinit.”
Unexpectedlytouched,shepressedherheadagainsthischest,listeningtohisheart.Surroundedbyherfriends,Willow,Angel,evenFaith,sherealizedthatonerealityatatimewasgoodenoughforher,too.
Amomentlater,thepolicestormedintothehouseandtheyallwentoutside.Buffylookedaroundatthewreckage,theshatteredglassandbrokenhouses,thetruckpiledamidthecars,butalsoatthegrassandthetreesandthesky.Abirdflutteredpastoverhead.Shetookitallin,eyeswidewiththewonderofitall,determinednottotakeanyofit,thiswholewonderfulworld,forgranted,buttoseeeverythingtherewastoseeasifforthefirsttime.Toomuchofherlifewasspentinthedark,intheshadows,movingunseenbeneaththerangeofhumanexistence.Sheknewthatwouldn’tchange;thatwashercalling,herreasonforbeing.But,sheunderstoodnow,itdidn’tmatteriftheworldsawher.
Itonlymatteredthatshesawit.
Epilogue
FAITHANDKATELOCKLEYFACEDEACHOTHERONTHElawnoutsidetheVishnikoffhouse.
“You’re,umm,notahostageanymore,areyou?”Kateaskedher.
Faithhesitated.Thenshesteppedforward,holdingoutherwristsforthehandcuffs.“Guessnot,”shesaid.
“Idon’twanttocuffyou,”Kateinformedher.“Ihaveafeelingyouhelpedtheseguys...dowhat,orhow,orwhere,Idon’tknowandIdon’twanttoknow.Butifyouwereontheirside,youwereprobablydoingsomethinggood.”
“Probably,”Faithagreed.ShehuggedAngelandevenBuffy,eversobriefly,andthenletKatetakehertoawaitingcar.Icanmakeittotheendofmysentence,sheknew.I’vetoughedoutworsethings.
TheothersstoodandwatchedastheypiledintoRiley’scar.ItwaswayovercrowdeduntiltheydroppedAlinaandMischaatthedelaNatividadhouse.
WillowhadtalkedtoDoñaPilar,whointurnspokewithSalma.OfalltheteenagerswhohadbeensnatchedawayintothevariousAlternities,Salma,withsomemagickalassistancefromhergrandmother,wastheonlyonewhorememberedallofit.SheknewwhatBuffyandAngelhadgonethroughtogetherback,andsheunderstoodAlina’sroleinthewholething.ShehadalsobeentoldaboutAlina’sdesertionbyherparents.
Whentheyarrivedatherfrontdoor,Salma’sprettybrowneyesfilledwithtears.Shehadlostherbrother,andthememoryofthatwasstillfresh,anopenwound.ShereachedoutandscoopedAlinaintoherarms,andthetwoheadsbowedasthegirlsburstintotears.
thegirlsburstintotears.
BuffyhadafeelingSalmawasn’tcomingbacktoSunnydale.
SalmareleasedAlinaandsaid,“Wehaveextrarooms.Lotsofthem.”SheglancedatMischa,andboththeRussiansbrightenedandlookedateachother.
“Wehavemuchtooffer,”Mischasaid.
“Iknow,”Salmareplied.SheturnedtoWillow.“Youwillcomeandvisit?Mygrandmotherwantstoteachmesomanythings.”
“Yeah.”WillowtouchedSalma’scheek.“Blessedbe.”
“Blessedbe,Willow,”Salmamurmured,takingWillow’shand.“GiveTarabesitosdeSalma.”Shewrinkledhernose.“Littlekisses.”
“Iwill.”Willow’seyesshone.“Ican’twaittoseeher.”
TheyswungbyCordelia’sapartmentnext,todropAngeloff.Cordeliametthematthedoor.
“Yay!”Cordycried.Thenshegrewserious.“It’sover?”
“It’sover,”Angelassuredher.
Cordelialookedpuzzledforamoment.“Whatisitthat’sover?I’mdrawingablank.”
Peoplealloverthecityhadalreadyforgottenthedisappearances—asfarasthecitywasconcerned,they’dneverhappened.Onlythosewho’dgonethroughtheportalsorbeenconnectedtothewitchesremembered.Andtheirspottymemoriesallowedpeopletofillintheirownexplanations:drugs,runaways,adolescentrebellion.
“I’lltellyoulater,”Angelsaid.
“Well,Isupposeyouallwanttocomeinandfinishoffthefewscrapsinmyrefrigerator,”shesaidwarmly.
“Thereisactualfoodinit,”Wesleysaidfrombehindher.“Imadearuntothestore,andImeanthatquiteliterally.”
store,andImeanthatquiteliterally.”
“We’ll,ahh,justgetoutofyourhairnow,”Buffysaid.“Nowyouseeus,nowyoudon’t.”
Rileyputhisarmaroundhershoulders.HeheldouthishandtoAngelandsaid,“Itwasagoodfight.”
“Whatwas?”Cordeliaasked.SheturnedtoWesley.“Arewemissingsomething?”
Wesleyshrugged.“Thatwouldn’tbeunusual.”
ThenBuffysaid,“Thanks,Angel.”Sheheldoutherhand,andhetookit,gaveitasqueezeandalightshake.“Foreverything.Seeya.”
Heheldontoherhandforamomentlongerthanheshouldhave,hiseyesburningintohers.“Yeah,”hefinallysaid,hisvoicehoarse.“Seeyou.”
Gilesstoodoutsidehisfrontdoorwatchingthesunrise.Herubbedhishandstogether,relishingthewarmththatdistantorbcastdownonourlittleworld.Inthefirstlightofanewday,Sunnydalelookedlikepeoplewantedtothinkitreallywas—apeaceful,somewhatsleepysouthernCaliforniabedroomcommunity,aplacewhereyoungpeoplecouldstartfamilies,watchthemgrowup,andretire,allinharmonywithnatureandtheirneighbors.
OnewouldhardlyknowtheplacesatontopofaHellmouth,hethought.
“Youaren’tthatcrazyguywhoscaresthemilkman,areyou?”Xandersaidfrombehindhim.Gilesturned.Xandercameoutside,rubbinghiseyes.Anyafollowedhim,lookingasbright-eyedandcheerfulasshealwaysdid.Shewashumannow,Gilesknew,butshedidn’tseemtorequiremuchsleep.
“Umm,no,noI’msurethatI’mnot,”Gilessaid.
“Thereisnocrazyguy,”Anyatoldhim.“He’sjustteasingyou.”
“YouknowtheXanman,lovestotease,”Xandersaid.
“Iknow,Anya.Butthanks,justthesame.”GilesturnedtoXander.“Iwasjust,umm,noticinghowfewmonstersthereareaboutthismorning.”
“Like,none,thatIcansee,”Xandernoted.
“Exactly.Wemadeitthroughtheworst.Ibelievethey’regonenow.”
“Doyouknowthatforafact?”Anyaasked.
“It’strue,”Tarasaid,joiningthemfrominside.“Ican...senseit.Theportalsareclosed,andthemonsterswhocamethrougharegone.Ordead.”
“Wedidlotsofmonsterkilling,”Xanderobserved.“Weshouldgetanawardorsomething.”
JoyceSummersfollowedTaraout.“IthinkourrewardisgettingtoliveinaSunnydalethat’snotfullofmonsters.”
“Except,ofcourse,theusualones,”Anyaadded.
Andmyrewardisgettingtoliveinahomethat’snotfullofthislot,Gilesthought.Though,really,ifIweregoingtosharelivingspace...therewouldbeworsepeopletoshareitwith.
Helookedathisfriends,blinkingandstretchinginthemorningsun,andrealizedthat,asbadasthingssometimesseemed,theyreallycouldn’tbebetter.
Cordeliafeltapangaftertheoldgangleft.Poorthings,goingbacktoSunnydale.
SheturnedbacktoAngelandWesley,settlingdowninchairs.PhantomDennisrustledsomepapersinthekitchen.ShethoughtaboutwhatitwasliketogointotheSunnydaleMallandbegreetedbynameatallherfavoritestores.OrtowalkuptotheconcessionstandattheSunCinema,andhaveMark,thetall,hunkyfilmmajorwhoworkedtherepart-time,say,“Theusual?”andhandheroneoftheroom-temperaturebottlesofwaterhekeptonhand,justforher.
Buthere’sgood,too,Cordydecided,asAngelpickeduptheTVremote,thoughtaboutit,putitdownandclosedhiseyes.Wesleyturnedthepageofabookhewasreading.
“Coffee?”shesaid.
“Hownice,”Wesleymurmured,notlookingupather.
“Hownice,”Wesleymurmured,notlookingupather.
Shesmiledtoherselfandwentintothekitchen.
RileyandBuffytookthefrontseats;Willowsataloneintheback.OfSpike,therewasnosign.
BuffyheldRiley’shandashedrove.She’dbeenfeelinginvisible,sheknew,likeshewasoutthereeverynightfightingforpeoplewhodidn’tknowsheexistedorcareifshelivedordied.Andthenshe’dfoundoutthattherewasawholerange—aninfiniterange—ofotherrealitiesoutthere,placeswhereshedidn’texist,placeswhereshedid,orsomeaspectofherdid.Placeswhereherparentshadneverdivorced,whereshehadneverbrokenupwithAngel,evenplaceswhereBuffySummershadneverbecomeaSlayer.
“It’stough,knowingthereareoptions,”Rileysaidquietly.
“Doesn’tmatter.”Shesmiledathim,butsomethinginhertearedup.Therewasahollowfeelinginthecenterofherchest,asiflittlepiecesofherheartwerebreaking.
“Itmatters.”Rileywatchedtheroad,thenglancedather.“You’reafighter.Youwantsomething,yougoforit.It’snotright,youtrytochangeit.”Helookedbackthroughthewindshield.“I’mawarrior,too,Buffy.We’rethekindofpeoplewhotakeaction.”
“Butthisisourbattlefield,”shetoldhim,placingherhandonhisleg.Hisseriousexpressionsoftened,andshefeltalittlebetter.Asifthebrokenpieceswereknittingbacktogether...inadifferentwaythanbefore,andnotwithoutscars.Buttheywerestillpartsofherheart.Theywerenotlost,ormissing.
“Thisiswherewearewhowereallyare,”shesaid,hervoicecatching,butonlyslightly.“Playingthehandsweweredealt.”
“Nothingwrongwithadiscardtogetabetterhand,”heventured,coveringherhandwithhisbeforehedownshifted.
“Fromthesamedeck,Riley,”shemurmured.Shelookedathim.“Ilikeknowingthatthesunwillcomeupagainandagain,andthatpeopleIknowandlovewalkaroundunderit.”
“Orhidefromit,”Rileysaid,veryquietly.
“Orhidefromit,”Buffyagreed.Afresh,bittersweettangunderscoredherreply.
Inthebackseat,Willowwasasleep,agentlesmilewreathingherface.
“ButI’mgoingthroughthiswithmyeyeswideopen.Inthesun,Riley.Ijust...Ijustwantpeopleto...toreallyseemewhenI’mthere.WhileI’mhere.”
Hisgazewasintense,unblinking.“Iseeyou,BuffySummers.”
“Iseeyou,RileyFinn.”Shelethimseedeeplyintoherself,hopedheknewhowmuchshelovedhim.
Rileytuggedonherhandtopointoutamotherhorserunningthroughagrassyfieldinthemorninglight,herlong-leggedbrownfoalbyherside.Thetwowatchedthemtrottingalong,theirhidesgleaminginthelightofthenewday.
“It’llbegoodtobehome,”Buffysaidquietly.
“Wearehome.”Hisvoicewasgentlebutstrong.Therewasasurenessinitthatsoothedher,comfortedher.
Faith.Angel.Cordelia,shethought.Takecare,inthatbigcity.
Sheletgoofthewhispersinherheart,forcedthemerestsheenoftearsbackdown,andletthelightshinethroughthetender,newhealingplacesinhersoul.
“Yes,”shesaid.“We’rehome.”
London,1880
Wherethebloodyhell?Spikethought.Andthenheknew:
HewasnotSpike,notquiteyet.HewasstillWilliam,fleeingthesceneofhishumiliationwithtearsinhiseyesandapulseinhisveins.Hisonetruelovehadlaughedathispoetryandathistenderconfessionthathelovedher.Saidshewasabovehiminstation,andwhothehelldidhethinkhewas?
Iwentthroughadifferentportalthantheothers,herealized.
Thentheretheywere:Angelus,theviciousvampireAngelhadbeenbeforehissoulhadbeenrestored.Darla,Angel’sbeautifulsire,sheoftheblondhairandblack,unbeatingheart.
AndDrusilla!Hisdark-eyed,maddarling,andhisownsire.
Thethreewerewalkingtowardhim,wickedsmilesontheirfaces,savagebloodlustintheireyes.
Shewillchangemenow,Williamthought.MylifeasSpikewillbegin.
Inthatpreciseinstant,hewasovercomewithmortalterror.Withacry,hedroppedhispapers.Hewasfrightenedcompletelyoutofhiswits.
No,Iwantit,hethought,baffled.Iwanttobeavampire.
Butasthedeadlytriodrewnear,glidinglikevipers,everyinstinctforsurvivalsnappedintofocus.Fightingforhisverylife,Williamrandownthewet,darkstreetofLondontown,fleeingasifHeavenitselfdemandedit.
Whatthedevil?hethought,butblindpanicrobbedhimoffurtherthought,andtheyoung,bookishmanraceddownthelane,lostbeyondreason,gibberingwithfear.
Attheendofthestreet,asharp,brilliantlightpoppedintoexistencebeforeawoodengate.Itgleamedlikeabeacon,likeabonfire,andheracedforit,runningsofasthethoughthisheartmightburst.
Oh,dear,God,helpme,hethought.Saveme!
Thelightburnedbrightlyasifitwaitedforhim—eithertocarryhimtoheavenorburnhimintoahellishpileofcinders.
“Help!”hescreamed,anddivedtowardthelight.
TheEnd
NancyHolderisthebestsellingauthorofforty-eightbooksandmanyshortstories,articles,andessays.Aloneandincollaborationwithotherauthors,shehaswrittensixteenBuffyand/orAngelprojectsforPocketBooks.Herworkhasbeentranslatedintotwodozenlanguages,andhasappearedontheLosAngelesTimes,USAToday,Locus,andotherbestsellerlists.Sheiscurrentlyworkingonthesecondbookofthistrilogywithhercoauthor,JeffMariotte.
ShelivesinSanDiegowithherdaughter,Belle,theirdog,Dot,andtwokittensnamedSashaandDavid,andallfiveconsiderthemselveshonorarymembersoftheHart/Mariottecontinuum.Inhersparetime,Holderbellydances...andsleeps.
JeffMariottehaswritten,aloneandincollaborationwithothervariousauthors,twonovelsaboutthesuperheroteamGen13,onenovelaboutXanderHarris,twonovelsaboutAngel,andthenonfictionWatcher’sGuide,Vol.2.Hehasalsowrittenmorecomicbooksthanhecarestocount.Heisaco-ownerofMysteriousGalaxy,aspecialtybookstoreinSanDiego,andSeniorEditorforWildStormProductions/DCComics.
HelivesinSanDiegowithavarietyofpeopleandanimals,andwouldliketofindtimetovisitthedesert.