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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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.