Chapter 63 Desperation
The lobby of the Hyperion was full of activity as Spike and Tara made their way downstairs, so much so that Tara could feel the tension and excitement and agitation in the air as she entered the room. Apparently, so could Spike, because his hand tightened slightly around hers in a subtle gesture of uncertainty, clinging to her as the one thing stable in a situation that seemed precarious and ever-shifting.
Dawn sat on the circular sofa with Lorne, turned almost completely toward him and away from the stairs, talking in a hushed but emphatic tone, her hand gestures making it clear that she was quite emotional about whatever was the topic of conversation. The green-skinned empath seemed to be just listening to her, nodding sympathetically on occasion, but mostly not saying anything as the young brunette talked.
Wesley and Anya were bent over the registration desk, poring over huge, intimidating texts, while Anya explained to the grim-faced Watcher what she had found so far. As she spoke, Wesley nodded in a satisfied way, without smiling, his jaw set with determination. What he had witnessed in Spike's and Tara's dreams had been enough to do away with any uncertainty he might have felt about helping the vampire.
Across the room from them, near the door, Willow sat huddled in a folding chair, her face in her hands, sobbing softly. Angel stood beside her, listening impassively as she tried to make the story come out in some kind of coherent manner, though his jaw was working with emotion, and it was clear that he was fighting to hold back the violent rage her words birthed in him anew.
Xander was crouched beside her, his hands on her knees as he spoke to her in a quiet, urgent voice, his eyes wide with horrified confusion as he tried to make his mind come to terms with what she had told him...and failed.
As Spike's gaze came to rest on the young man that had hated him so fiercely in Sunnydale, Xander shook his head emphatically, declaring, "No...No, Will, it's a mistake! It's a trick of some kind, but it's not real! Buffy wouldn't..."
At that, Angel lost a bit of his composure, snarling in exasperation, "Are you that big of an idiot, boy? Can't you just accept..."
But Xander was not paying attention to him. He heard Tara and Spike enter, and was now staring at the blond standing at the foot of the stairs. Xander's eyes narrowed in anger as he stood up straight, turning and stalking furiously across the room toward Spike.
"You. This is *your* fault!"
"Xander, no!" Willow cried out in dismay.
"Xander..." Angel's tone was decidedly less worried, and more angry, as he followed the boy toward where Spike and Tara stood.
Spike's reaction was a different one entirely, as his mind brought an unbidden memory, a very similar advance by a different, more dangerous individual...
"Get over here! Don't you *dare* back away from me!"
Motions blended into a violent blur as she seized his hair and slammed his head back against the stone wall of his crypt, momentarily blinding him with pain and confusion.
"This is all your fault, Spike...you know that, don't you? You disgusting, stupid little idiot!" She punctuated the words with another vicious crack of his skull against the stone wall, his head exploding in pain and barely able to comprehend the words as she continued, "You and your big mouth! When I tell you not to talk about something, you keep your mouth *shut*, do you hear me!"
"Yes...yes, please, Buffy...please don't..."
"Please...don't, please..."
"Xander, back off!" Willow cried out, and Spike realized through the disoriented haze of mingled memory and reality that she was much closer now than when he had last heard her voice. "*Xander*!"
He opened wide, panicked eyes, gasping for breath as he looked around and tried to get his bearings. He was standing with his back against the wall to the left of the stairs, his arms raised in front of him in a trembling, pleading shield against Xander's furious advance. He looked up in alarm at a sudden movement to his left, realizing with relief that it was Angel coming up behind Xander.
The dark vampire drew back his fist, a growl sounding low in his throat as he swung at the young man - and was knocked backward by the sanctuary spell's resistance to the attempt. He picked himself up off the floor, golden eyes narrowed and full of rage as he moved toward Xander again.
"Stop it!" Tara commanded suddenly, more authority in her voice than she was accustomed to displaying. "Both of you, just stop it!"
A sudden bolt of magical power flew from her fingertips, and Xander was sent staggering backward a few yards. At the same moment, Angel's advance toward the boy was brought to a similar halt, as Tara moved purposefully to stand between them and Spike, her arms crossed over her chest, her jaw set in a firm, disapproving line.
They both just stared at her in silence for a long moment, before glancing around the room to take in the audience they had gained. From all areas of the room, the assembled group watched with apprehension and interest to see what would happen next.
Spike was gradually recovering from the impact of the traumatic flashback, and his head was bowed with shame as he realized the display he had put on in front of the others. He swallowed hard, unable to face any of them, unwilling to move and draw any further attention to himself. Seeing that Tara was otherwise occupied at the moment, Dawn rose quickly from the sofa and passed her to get to Spike, putting her arms around him and leading him quietly away from the confrontation, as Tara faced down the two men before her.
Feeling all at once awkward and self-conscious, both Angel and Xander looked at the floor, mumbling out grudging explanations.
"He started it! I was just looking out for Spike..."
"I wasn't gonna hurt him...Angel was gonna bite me! That's why the sanctuary spell went off..."
"Shut up!" Tara snapped. "Just...just stop!" She turned toward Angel first, declaring, "That was really stupid, and so not helping! Like the sanctuary spell would let you do anything to him, anyway!"
"Yeah," Xander agreed petulantly. "Stupid vampire."
"And you!"
Xander flinched, turning away from Angel as he found himself suddenly the focus of Tara's wrath.
"What did you think you were trying to pull, going after Spike like that? After all he's been through!"
"That's still sort of up for debate," Xander protested. "I'm still not sure I buy this whole..."
"And I'm not going to argue with you about it!" Tara cut him off, her eyes blazing with fury at Xander's skeptical words. "It happened. Willow and Wesley both saw it, now. Xander, you have *got* to get over this idea that everything is somehow Spike's fault, and your precious Buffy can do no wrong!"
"But..."
"She is a sadistic, abusive *monster*, and I realize that it's hard for you to accept that. But, if you can't...if you don't want to be here and help us...then maybe you'd better go."
Xander's eyes widened as his mind went back to the nightmare image of his friend's decaying, rotted face - the face Tara said was her true nature showing through. He swallowed hard, his expression stubborn, though his shoulders fell slightly.
"You can't make me go," he reminded Tara in a defiant tone. "This isn't your place. This hotel belongs to Angel, and..." His voice trailed off as he realized the implications of his own words, and his fearful gaze turned toward the now-smirking vampire.
"Maybe you should just go talk to Willow for a while," Tara suggested, her voice softer now, but no less authoritative. "And maybe you should actually *listen* to what she has to say this time."
Reluctantly, Xander turned and moved back to where Willow sat across the room, and the others gradually began to drift back to what they had been doing. Angel went to the sofa, where Spike sat with Dawn, and Tara took the brief and rare opportunity to allow someone else to take over, leaning back against the wall behind her with a heavy sigh, covering her face with her hands as she struggled to regain her composure.
She started slightly when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, and looked up with surprise to see Lorne standing beside her, giving her a sympathetic smile.
"Gets a little exhausting, doesn't it, cupcake?"
Unsure of his meaning, Tara shook her head slightly. "What?"
"Bearing the weight of someone else's world."
Tara blinked at him, startled, before releasing a weary sigh, looking away. "Haven't got much choice, have I?" she pointed out. "He needs me."
"No offense, pumpkin," the empathy remarked, leaning back against the wall beside her, "but he needs more than that."
Tara blinked back tears, but did not argue with his words. "Don't think I don't know that."
"I know," Lorne conceded. "It's just...he's gonna have a hard time finding it...as long as he thinks he already has."
"But what am I *supposed* to do?" Tara protested in a voice of quiet anguish, raising a hand in supplicating question as she turned to face him, her eyes searching his face for the answer. "I can't just...just abandon him! He's been tortured, and raped, and abused, and had every ounce of power he ever had stripped away from him! He needs..."
"...to get it back."
Tara fell silent, struck by Lorne's words and waiting for him to go on.
"And I hate to break it to you, Sweetie...but right now, he's not even trying." Lorne was quiet for a moment, holding her eyes with his own piercing gaze. "He doesn't have to. And as long as you're keeping it that way...you're not really helping him."
"Then what can I do?" Tara asked in a desperate whisper, tears streaking her face. "How am I supposed to help him?"
Lorne gave her an encouraging smile as he gave her his answer.
"You've gotta find a way to help him get that power back, Honeybuns. He wasn't always Buffy's little victim. He used to be a powerful master vampire, feared and renowned and all that stuff in those books Wes's so proud of. What you've got to do is help him find that guy again."
Satisfied with his answer, Lorne leaned back against the wall again, gazing across the room at the blond vampire, now talking quietly on the sofa with Dawn and his sire. As he watched them, Lorne's smile faded slightly, and he shrugged as he added a matter-of-fact amendment to his words.
"You know...without the mayhem and bloodshed and slaughter of innocents and all."
**************************************
The bell on the door of the little all-night magic shop on Main Street jangled loudly, and the desk clerk, a young Bracken demon named Trang, looked up nervously from the paperback copy of *Pride and Prejudice* he had been reading. He was a firm believer that just because one was a soulless demon did not mean that they should be ignorant of classic literature.
Not that Trang was really all that soulless, anyway.
Or demonic, for that matter.
Trang was actually much more the quiet, bookish type than the violent, evil type. In fact, he wasn't much of a fighter at all.
His anxious gaze fell on the doorway as he looked to see who - or what - his late-night customer might be. An authentic magic shop such as his did well to stay open late in a dark city such as this one; still, it was usually this time of night when the seriously scary customers decided to show up.
Tonight was no exception.
Trang's stomach dropped as his senses informed him instantly that the tiny blonde who had just crashed her way into his shop was none other than the vampire Slayer.
His eyes widened and his mouth went dry with fear as he backed away from her. "S-slayer! Look, I...I'm not hurting anybody here. I'm just running a perfectly legal, reputable business..."
A smirk of cruel amusement twisted her features as she swiftly closed the distance between them, deftly hopping up onto the counter and swinging her legs around, crossing them gracefully, her black leather skirt riding up higher on her thighs as she casually swung her leg, regarding him with a calculating smile.
Trang had heard stories of this particular Slayer, this tiny, deadly blonde with the ridiculous name that belied her true power. Her casual manner only served to emphasize the ease with which she could destroy him, in an instant if she so chose, and he could feel the malevolent pleasure she took in his fear.
"Please," he whimpered, his back to the wall as he tried in vain to put a little more distance between them, since she was now blocking his way to the small swinging gate that would allow him to come out from behind the counter. "Slayer, please...don't..."
"Relax, Sweetie," Buffy said in a deceptively soothing voice, sliding off the counter and moving further into the Bracken's personal space.
She placed her hand on the wall beside Trang's head, miraculously on the opposite side from where the gate was, and his eyes darted wildly toward it, mentally calculating the distance, and whether or not he might be able to reach it before she could stop him.
"I'm not going to hurt you...Trang..." the Slayer continued, her eyes dropping to read his name tag before locking onto his face again. "...as long as you can get me what I need. See, I've got a little problem with a spell I need taken down, and word is that you're just the guy to help me with that problem, and if you try it, Sweetie, I'll break your neck before you can get two steps. Understand?"
Trang nodded frantically, focusing on her, not daring to even glance toward the gate again. "I understand," he assured her, his voice trembling with fear. "Please, Slayer...I'll do whatever you want, just please..."
His voice broke off on a high, terrified note, and he flinched as she reached into the pocket of her impossibly tight skirt - and pulled out a tiny, crumpled piece of paper. His eyes met hers again in a nervous question, and he found that she was smiling expectantly up at him. She shook the paper slightly, rolling her eyes as she explained in a tone that suggested it should not have needed explaining.
"This is what I need. Do you have it?"
Trang struggled to focus enough to read the items on the list, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief when he realized that he actually carried all of them in stock. He nodded hurriedly.
"Yeah...yeah, we've got all that stuff. If you'll just...just give me a second, I'll get it for you..."
He started to move away from the wall, and for a moment it appeared that she would let him. Then she grabbed him by the back of the neck, yanking him back a few steps, and the terrified creature let out a yelp as she leaned in close to speak softly next to his ear.
"If it's all the same to you, Sweetie, I think I'll tag along. Wouldn't want you to get antsy and try something stupid. You know, like, heading for that door over there. Somebody might get hurt."
"No," Trang whispered, his eyes closed, shaking his head in a panicked way, his hands raised in front of him in a pleading gesture. "No, I w-wouldn't, please..."
"Shut up," Buffy snapped, jerking him forward through the gate that led into the store, thrusting him violently toward the shelves, while keeping herself between him and the front door.
Though his hands were shaking almost too hard to grasp the items she wanted, Trang somehow managed to gather them all, and made his way under her watchful eye back to the counter and behind it, where he took a bag and began to load the items hurriedly, all too eager to get the Slayer satisfied and on her way.
"Th-that'll be $16.22," he told her in an almost apologetic voice, his eyes on the counter in front of him as he pushed the bag across the counter to her.
"You know, Honey...I'm running a little low on cash at the moment," Buffy informed him in a confidential sort of tone, sliding through the gate and sidling toward him, causing the terrified demon to back up too quickly against the far counter, knocking a couple of displays off in his panicked rush. "You don't suppose you could...help me out a little, do you?"
Trang nodded desperately, his eyes closed as she reached a hand up to touch his face. "Yeah, no problem, Slayer. No problem, on the house...just...just, please..."
"You're a doll, Sweetie." Buffy smirked at his fear, her tone deceptively friendly and appreciative as her hand at his cheek came to rest on his throat, and he swallowed convulsively under her touch. "You, uh...working here all alone tonight?"
Trang nodded mindlessly, not really thinking about the question, just desperate to get her out of his store. "Yeah, just me..."
"So...when's the next shift start? When's somebody show up to relieve you?"
"Not until..." Trang's voice trailed off, his eyes opening wide as he stared at her in shocked, horrified understanding. "I-I mean...any minute now..."
In the first display of clear violence since she had walked into the store, the Slayer backhanded him viciously, gripping his throat and bending him backward over the counter until his head smacked painfully against the glass as she snarled in a low, hard voice,
"Try. Again."
"Two hours," Trang fairly sobbed. "Please, please don't..."
Buffy gripped his hair and yanked him up straight before turning him around so that his back was to her and shoving him forcefully to his knees on the tile floor. Trang let out a soft, suppressed cry of pain and fear, shaking violently now, his shoulders quaking with sobs.
"Please," he begged her. "Please, I've done everything you said...I'm not doing anything wrong, please, Slayer, don't..."
"I know, I know all that, Sweetie," Buffy assured him, her harsh hand in his hair gentling to a deceptive caress as she went on sadly, "But...we've still got a little problem. You see...this ritual I'm preparing for...I bet you noticed it's pretty dark stuff, huh?"
Trang nodded, whispering frantically as she circled him slowly in a predatory way, "None of my business..."
"Damn right," Buffy sneered, delivering a light, warning slap to the back of his head, more frightening than painful. "But still...it's not the kind of thing I'm sure I want getting out just yet...the vampire Slayer, messing with the dark magic, you know? I mean...sooner or later the general public's gonna figure out that I'm not quite...the same, as I used to be. But I think for now I'd rather it was later."
She crouched down behind him, soft, strong fingertips encircling his throat in a chillingly gentle gesture as she whispered in his ear, "How can I trust you not to talk, Trang?"
"I won't," he insisted, pleading for his life. "Please, I swear, Slayer, I won't say a word! I'll never tell anyone! No one, not even my fiancée and I tell her everything. Her name is Alena; she's having my baby, Slayer...it's a girl, and we're gonna call her Sharia. I'm gonna have a family! Please, please don't do this to me! Please don't..."
"You think I care about your disgusting little demon family, you repulsive little piece of trash?" the Slayer snarled venomously, and Trang flinched, sobbing harder. Her tone shifted in an instant, back to calm and friendly, as she shrugged and conceded, "But...you *have* been very helpful. You've done everything I said so far. So...I guess I've got no reason not to believe you...no reason to kill you, really."
Trang allowed himself to hope, his heart leaping within him as he heard her take a couple of slow, measured footsteps toward the gate.
"Except..." The footsteps stopped, and Trang's heart with them for a moment. "...for one, maybe..."
The mild-mannered Bracken tensed as he felt her powerful hands on his neck from behind him, felt her crouch down just beside and behind him to whisper in his ear in a cold voice of malicious pleasure.
"...because it's fun."
His eyes widened in horror, and he realized that she was actually going to do it, in the instant before she broke his neck and took his life.
Without a backward glance, the Slayer picked up her grocery bag and sauntered out the door into the night, leaving the body of Alina's fiancée and Sharia's father lifeless on the floor like so much abandoned garbage. She didn't have time to worry about one more demon in the long line of those she had slain; it didn't matter to her in the least that this particular demon had been clearly harmless.
She had more important matters with which to concern herself.