I’ve never attempted fanfic before, so please excuse me if this is not very good. Thought I’d have a go and see if it was any fun. This tale is set in the aftermath of the final Angel episode and while it might reference a bit of what happened in the comics after, it will only be vaguely. Never read them myself. The story is centered around spike, but will likely venture into a Spike/Buffy thing down the road. Hope you enjoy :)
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Heaven And Hell
Chapter Seven: Confrontations
Note: I am experimenting with a slightly different style on this one. As a result, this one is a bit longer than the previous chapters.
The three of them met in a dingy laundry mat a half mile away from the Hard Rock Casino in the earliest part of the night. Nearly an hour they stood with their heads huddled together in quiet conference. Twice an innocent pedestrian walked in looking to clean their clothes and twice they choose to rethink their plan under the unwelcoming crystal blue gaze of the platinum haired man doing most of the talking. The trio would wait just long enough for the door to close behind the unnerved and unwelcome guest before their conversation resumed.
They spoke for an hour and then they parted ways, each of the three walking in a different direction.
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Gate:
The young man that walked away from Spike and Tara found himself filled with an unexpected sense of anxious energy. Though his hands were tucked casually into the pockets of faded old jeans and his comfortable loafers carried him at a leisurely pace, there was a subtle note of impatience in the way he whistled and the way his cool blue eyes scanned the busy street around him. He found himself being forced to monitor his own walking to ensure that his pace didn’t quicken.
He soon found himself walking along the Strip, lazy steps taking him past the monolithic casino’s one by one as he made his way north. The milling mass of humanity wandering along at its herd-like pace parted obligingly for him in the way crowds always did for the beautiful. He hardly noticed the admiring looks, however. At most he offered a distracted smile as people made way. No, his mind was elsewhere and he had no time for flirtations.
The nervous energy was a concern, he admitted. His existence was just strange enough that he didn’t have many memories that would help him adjust to the odd feeling. It wasn’t fear that was driving his nerves to protest. He’d been afraid more than enough in his long life to know that sensation even if it were disguised as something else. It wasn’t worry, either. What would happen that night was intended to happen and would do so with or without his involvement. The universe was like that. What happened that night had to happen so that something much more important could happen later. No step, regardless of how small, could be missed or everything would crumble.
His meandering stroll took him out of the luminescent Strip area and he found himself in a much seedier, even unfriendly section of Las Vegas. The tourists that frequented the mega casinos never saw the poverty and cold reality not a mile away from their isolated resorts and that was exactly as the leaders of the city liked it. Fleets of taxis were available, buses by the score and a dozen other means of transporting a tourist with an urge to wander were available at any time. Few walked, though. The oppressive heat and the unwelcoming air of the city surrounding the Strip and Downtown were deterrent enough.
He was drawing looks again, though it was no longer for the same reasons. His soft white shirt, clearly silk and almost blousy it was so light, marked him as an outsider, some annoying kid that had decided to wander away from the bright lights and slum with the locals. Resentment burned in the looks he received as he strolled past. He didn’t respond to those looks any more than he’d responded to the admiring glances before, however. There was a time to play, and this wasn’t it.
The feeling was anticipation, he realized. He was eager for this to start. Realizing this, he had to chuckle. Extremely long life tended to warp a person’s perceptions. When years came and went and world shaking matters rose and brushed the tapestry of the world and yet nothing changed for you, things like wondering what would happen next became pointless. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d truly worried about the future.
Yet there he was walking faster than he should have and with an eager bounce to each step. He’d waited so very long. So long that he’d all but accepted that it would never happen. He’d resigned himself. But he could feel it. Feel it deep down in his bones. It was getting close. Whatever happened that night was a part of it.
He resisted the urge to change his tuneless whistling into a happy song. His walking had led him to a run down and graffiti covered liquor store. The fence protecting the back parking lot was a sad looking barrier, entirely missing in three sections. Not that anyone parked there. The broken bottles, discarded fast food remains and endless cigarette butts littering the oiled covered concrete made any notion of leaving a car there almost absurd. And even if someone got past all that, the stench of urine and worse drove even the most careless consumer away.
There were no transient packs waiting in the parking lot that night, though. Instead a small thicket of bodies turned to confront him as he approached. Nine of them. Good. Demons or vampires all of them. Vile creatures, killers for pleasure as well as survival. The very worst that Dominic could call upon outside his two monstrous bodyguards. Nine nightmares given flesh and purpose in the night.
Gate nodded an amiable greeting, forcing himself into a centered place. He could not afford to be anything but supremely confident in front of this group. Any sign of weakness, any hint of uncertainty and they would turn on him. Death might be the best to happen to him if that occurred.
“I take it the boss let you all know that you belong to me for the evening?” he inquired pleasantly as he checked his watch.
“We help you kill the Slayers tonight,” a bloated red creature with an enormous slobbering tongue gurgled, pushing forward eagerly. Huge gobs of sizzling drool landed on the concrete as he moved. The hiss created as acidic spit began to eat at the parking lot resonated in the silence until Gate held up a hand and motioned the demon back.
“That’s close enough,” he held his free hand protectively over his white shirt. “This is a new shirt.”
“The plan,” he waved to the others, catching their attention “Is very simple. We are going to capture the Slayers. Capture, I repeat. One of you kills one of my Slayers and you will pay me the sum of her bounty or I’ll take it out of your hide. Am I clear?”
There was a general air of disgruntled rebellion in the group. Most of them towered over him. All were veterans of countless battles. Each had a well deserved reputation. They weren’t taking well to being ordered about by a golden youth with a sheepish, friendly smile.
He waited for their grumbling to either spill over into real dissent or to fade. This was a moment that allowed only one way to progress. He could either force them into compliance or he would fail. He found himself wondering how many he could kill before they got him and the thought made him grin. Not enough to matter, but enough that he’d enjoy the fight. It wouldn’t be such a bad way to go, really.
The demons relented eventually. Perhaps they remembered the extraordinary sums they were being paid. Perhaps they remembered that Gate had a reputation of his own. Perhaps the queerly eager light in his eyes as he smiled had unnerved one or two of them. Whatever the reason, they relented and nodded their agreement with his stipulation.
“Great,” he spoke again, flashing them a winning smile “This is going to go fantastic. Trust me.”
“You,” he pointed to one of the vampires “get to play a pivotal role. Head Downtown and loiter a bit. Wait until the Slayers spot you. No snacking until they do.”
Gate favored the vampire with an admonishing finger waving when he looked annoyed at the no feeding order, “No snacking,” he insisted “I want you alert. When the Slayers notice you, I want you to find yourself a human. Take the human with you and lead the Slayers to the bottom level of that parking garage.”
He waved a bronzed hand toward the two story parking garage in question to show them all which one he meant. Demons were great at some things, but keeping to a plan wasn’t always among them.
“The rest of you, your only job is to prevent the Slayers from getting to an exit. Don’t touch them unless they try and run. That’s my job. I’ll take them down, we get them back to Dominic’s, and each of you is cashing a very large check. Simple, right? Questions?”
One of the pack pushed forward, a dwarflike beast that looked to be strong enough to knock down a building is he had half a mind. “And if they kill you?” he rasped, gnarled fingers clutching tight at the haft of a worn axe “They’re Slayers, after all.”
Gate shrugged to project his lack of concern but threw them a bone for morale’s sake, “If they kill me then all bets are off. Kill them to your hearts content.”
That closed the deal. Pleased, greedy looks flashed over nine different expressions in an almost identical manner. The way they were eying him, Gate knew that they’d be hoping he died in the fight. It was funny, really. Demon’s cheering on a Slayer.
“That’s the spirit,” he laughed at their leers. “Well, lets get to it. We have a schedule to keep and all that.”
The vampire bait darted off in the direction of the nearby Downtown Promenade and Gate led the remainder of the motley crew into the lower section of the waiting parking garage. Demons were posted and hidden in a rough circle around the area he’d selected for the fight. Each demon had a ringside seat for the fight, which Gate had taken painstaking care to ensure. Above and beyond anything else, he was going to fight two Slayers very shortly. That sort of thing required a captive and appreciative audience.
He parked himself in the half shadow of the dimly lit area, leaning against an old van and began an intensive inspection of his fingernails. The waiting was always the worst. Knowing a fight was coming but being forced to wait for the right moment. His adrenaline wanted to pump but he couldn’t allow that. The inexperienced often found themselves exhausted even before the fighting started. Calm, he had to stay calm.
Thankfully the main attraction was not long in arriving. Gate’s vampire wandered down into the parking garage with an unconscious girl draped over once shoulder. He was clearly overselling his role as bait, swaggering as if he hadn’t a care in the world and taking long dramatic pauses to look around as he propped his victim against a car and leaned in with extended fangs.
The Slayers slipped into the darkened area a second later. They glided like ghosts in the half-light and drew close to the feeding vampire. Quiet. Elegant. Almost poetic, they way they moved. He couldn’t help but show a smile of simple appreciation as the two girls descended on their target and dispatched him without a fuss. Technically, Gate had been supposed to reveal himself before the vampire was attacked, but the showman in him wanted the watching demon’s to see just how deadly these two girls were. Besides, that acting had been just terrible.
“Impressive,” he said it loudly, to be certain that all watching parties were able to follow the conversation as he stepped out into the light “I’ve never actually seen a Slayer in action. Clearly the rumors are true.”
They spun away from their examination of the unmoving human they’d just saved. Without thought or communication, they parted immediately, each moving a few feet away from the other so that they presented more than one target. Matching green eyes narrowed in silent evaluation of the new threat that Gate represented. Pretty mouths tightened into hard lines and he saw them shift to the balls of their feet at the same time. Oh, they were lovely.
“He doesn’t look like a vampire,” one of them allowed after a moment. Neither girl moved. They seemed to be waiting for him to show his intentions.
“No,” her sister agreed “He’s kinda doable, actually. Probably evil though.”
“Probably,” came the thoughtful response “Should we ask him?”
There was a thoughtful pause, then a shrug, “Maybe he wants to keep it secret. A face like that, he has to be hiding something.”
Good girls, Gate thought, letting the moment drag out before taking a few more steps closer. He could use that banter.
“I’d introduce myself,” he inclined his head politely “But I doubt my name would mean anything to you. For now, it should be enough for you to know I represent a man named Dominic Swan.”
“Told you,” one rolled her eyes “Evil.”
“You called it,” the one with the thoughtful expression complimented her sister. She looked Gate over with those pretty green eyes, looking a bit disappointed “Calling Mr. Swan a man is stretching it a bit, don’t you think?”
“Maybe a bit,” Gate allowed, speaking in a languid, relaxed tone. It was hard not to like these brave girls. He could see where Spike got his odd obsession from. “Shall we go, ladies? We’re on a bit of a schedule here.”
“Go?” both of them asked, moving a bit further apart. The time for banter was starting to grow slim.
“Mr. Swan has requested to meet you. He’s even arranged a lovely meal to share with you at his place. You’ll find him to be a charming host, I bet. And I’m certain he’ll like you two,” he spoke encouragingly.
“Gotta say, Goldy, meeting Swan isn’t real high on my “to do” list,” the sister on the right commented “Not the kind of meeting he’d like, anyway.”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist,” he murmured with what he thought was a healthy does of sympathetic apology. He might have been wrong though, because both girls gave identical snorts. His adrenaline was pumping. This was going to be fun.
“Just you alone?” the quieter sister asked, her balled fists raising.
“Or is the goon squad going to play too?” her sister finished. That one was starting to bounce on the balls of her feet. She was feeling the rush already.
“Don’t mind them,” Gate dismissed the watching demons with a wave “Are you ladies ready or do you need a moment to discuss your options?”
“He really is cute,” the thoughtful one sighed “Why are all the cute ones evil?”
“We’re ready, pretty boy,” her sister grinned at the plaintive complaint, commiserating.
Gate flashed them both a smile, and then he moved. The girls clearly thought they had the edge on him as far as positioning was concerned, and they were confident against a single opponent. Unfortunately for them, they’d never seen the sort of things he could do. When his still frame had flickered briefly in the shadows, they’d paused. Then he was there among them. It wasn’t that he was fast, he’d simply not bothered covering the ground between them.
His fist caught the quieter girl, the one he’d begun to think of as Whisper, in the stomach as she whirled to face the man so suddenly appearing behind her. She doubled over and lashed out with a kick that caught him on the side of the knee and made him flicker again to appear a few feet away stumbling as he caught his balance. Her sister, Tease in his mind now, was on him in an instant, kicking him hard in the chest.
He flew back and crashed into the back of the parked van that had hidden him moments before. She glided in to strike again, but he disappeared before she managed to get to him and her fist instead slammed through the back window of the van. An instant later he was there again, driving a knee into her lower spine. His fist followed the knee a second later and he heard her grunt in protest.
Tease spun and blocked his third blow, pushing him to the side where, coincidentally, Whisper was coming up behind him. She dropped down and her leg lashed out to kick his own legs away. He found himself with the briefest sensation of flight as his legs were swept away then there was an explosion of air being forced out of his lungs as he impacted on the hard ground. A stomping strike at his forehead was only narrowly avoided when h disappeared again, appearing a good fifteen feet away.
He had to laugh as he scrambled to his feet. They were spectacular. Stronger and faster than he’d imagined they would be. And tough. Neither looked to be the worse for wear from the blows he’d landed. Both wore determined masks as they closed on him. It occurred to him that he could easily be beaten here and a second laugh escaped him.
“Cute,” Tease commented casually as she moved in from the right “but the laughing isn’t doing him any favors.”
“I think it’s kinda sexy,” Whisper admitted “Plus you have to admit that blinky thing is pretty cool.”
They were clearly expecting him to disappear again. In fact, by the way she moved Whisper was all but inviting him to appear behind her and attack her exposed back. Which would prove disastrous to him, of course. He could see Tease waiting to pounce.
He caught them when he launched himself bodily at Tease and tackled her. He was faster even without his blinking ability. He used that. The two of them tumbled to the ground and he took the opportunity to pull his head back and slam it down into hers. Blood spurted over his shirt from her broken nose but he had no time to gloat. Whisper was there in a flash, rewarding him for his ingenuity with a solid right cross that exploded against the back of his neck and caused stars to flare in his vision.
Instead of blinking away as he should have, he reached up and dragged Whisper down into the pile with him and her sister. There was a time of chaos where only lasing limbs and grunts of pain were heard from all three of them. Then he was finally able to work them into a position where they couldn’t move beneath him. He knew he couldn’t hold them for more than a second or two, but he had to try. The fight was getting serious.
“I’m a friend of Spike’s,” he hissed in Whisper’s ear “He’s going after Dominic. We have to keep the demons focused on us. Sell the fight. Make it real but make it last.”
That was all he had time for. Tease managed to get both her hands on his chest and she shoved hard, sending him sailing clear off the ground and onto the roof of a nearby vehicle. He groaned at the impact and slide back down to face the vengeful looking slayer sisters. Whether they believed him or not, he had to make this fight take as long as he could. Every second counted.
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Spike:
He walked away from Gate and Tara already in the killing mindset. Tara hadn’t been happy but there was nothing to be done about that. He’d fix it later if they all survived.
The vampire walked directly back toward the Hard Rock, his beaten boots treading heavily on the pavement. His torn jeans and faded tee shirt, the spiked collar at his wrist. Even his beloved leather coat, they all felt like a suit of armor protecting him from the punishment he would receive shortly.
The distractions of the hotel hardly registered as he walked through the lobby and into the elevator, were he hit the button to go to his floor. There were amusements and then there were amusements. What he had in mind for the evening beat a hand of poker all to hell. And while he wasn’t one to bother with plans, this one had a simplicity that he liked. Plus it promised to deliver Dominic to his hands .
On his floor, he went to his room and shut the door behind. Not turning on the lights, he let his vampiric senses extend out to find what he needed. Bloody cameras watching every move he made. It was enough to give a bloke a complex. The only way he’d endured it for so long was the knowledge that this night was coming.
The box was under his bed, it’s ingredients smuggled in one or two at a time over the previous week. Opening the heavy lock and tossing back the thick lid of the chest, he pulled two slender vials from within and tucked them gently into his belt. Once they were secured, he slide an engraved, silver knife into his belt at the small of his back. Fully equipped with what he’d need later that night, he marched back out of the room.
Now for the shit part of the plan, he thought sourly as he walked back to the casino.
Patience wasn’t one of his strengths. Even the immortal perceptions of a vampire hadn’t done much to temper his need to act on impulse. And every impulse was telling him to take the elevator to the top and drop that ponce Dominic off the side of the building.
He knew he couldn’t do that, however. Much as he regretted the need, he had to be patient and allow Gate and Tara to do their parts. So he wiped the surly look off his expression and parked himself at the bar in full view of at least three of the hotel cameras. In case security failed to notice him lounging about and doing nothing useful, he reached out and caught a passing woman’s arm.
“There’s a pretty little bird,” he smirked at her upraised eyebrows.
Her reaction was softened when she looked into his electric blue eyes, when she stared at his angelic features. A smile formed and she sat down beside him, leaning in a hair to accentuate her form “Think so, handsome?”
“Wouldn’t have stopped you if I didn’t think so, pet,” he drawled, lighting a cigarette. “Fancy a drink?”
“Love one,” she smiled, resting her hand on top of his. “I’m Sharon.”
“Randy,” he said after a moment, spurred on by a random and mildly embarrassing moment he‘d experienced in Sunnydale “Randy Giles. Sell insurance, pet. In town for a conference.”
“You sell insurance?” she laughed, looking him over dubiously.
“Special kind of insurance,” he allowed with a nod.
He peeked at the clock on the wall behind her as she responded and put himself on autopilot for the remainder of the conversation. It was second nature, really. Not something he had to think about, luring a woman into wanting his attention. Decades of practice made a man comfortable. Even cocky. Women responded to a little mystery and a little danger.
Time passed at a maddening rate. Minute by torturous minute the woman talked and suggested and purred and he kept her there by giving her just enough rope to let her think that she was doing well. A part of him felt some sympathy for her, but he didn’t dwell on it. A bit of a bruised ego was a small price to pay. Maybe she’d be a bit more discriminating in the future.
The time came and passed when he knew Gate was meeting with Dominic’s demonic enforcers. Spike waited. Some time later he was certain that the Slayers were meeting Gate. He hoped briefly that they were quick on the uptake. Once Dominic had given the order to bring them in, there hadn’t been time to contact them and let them in on the way of things. Gate had been confident, but Spike didn’t envy anyone taking on two Slayers.
He lost track of his conversation with the woman while he studied the cloak and eventually came to realize that she’d turned her attentions to the man on the other side of her and was casting him accusing looks over her shoulder when her new beau wasn’t looking. Sorry, pet, he gave her a smile that only seemed to confuse her. When he rose a moment later, she sniffed and turned away from him completely.
Finally. Spike checked the clock and exhaled an unnecessary breath. Finally time. Tara would be doing her thing now. It was his turn to play.
He was at the elevators quickly, already feeling his blood beginning to boil in anticipation for the fight. Clear headed, nudged the penthouse button with his elbow and leaned back against the wall, whistling along with the old Hendrix tune playing from speakers in the roof of the cab. Felt good to be acting after all that sitting around wallowing, he realized.
Been feeling sorry for myself a bit, he mused thoughtfully to himself. Not like I haven’t earned it, but its turning me into a right nancy.
With a ding, the doors of the elevator slide open and he stepped into Dominic’s penthouse. He was immediately confronted by two men with heavy handguns, but he only chuckled at their demands that he put his arms up. Human security. That had been the point all along. Get rid of most of the demon muscle that made attacking Dominic such an impossible situation. Leave him vulnerable in his little fortress.
His features slipped seamlessly into game face and the fight was over before it began. They managed to fire off one round but it missed the mark completely and instead imbedded in a gaudy Victorian painting on the wall.
There were more humans, of course. Not enough to matter, but enough to occupy him for the few seconds that they were intended to. He moved among them, dropping them without any real trouble and when he finally allowed the last man to fall to the marble floor, he saw that the real security detail had arrived. Two Myyaat demons. Spike was a bit impressed despite himself. Nasty buggers. Huge, hulking brutes by the look of them but he knew enough about the race to know that their hulking size was misleading. They moved like fluid in a fight.
Myyaat Demons had no vocal chords that anyone knew of, instead communicating through some kind of empathic bond brought on by touching that slug like tentacle of theirs to a persons head. Spike couldn’t quite resist talking to them though.
“Soddin hell,” he frowned at them “If you two aren’t the ugliest wankers in Vegas, I’m a bloody virgin.”
His insult was lost on them, of course. They simply stood shoulder to shoulder, barring his path. They would be passive until the fighting started. Spike knew that much. He smirked at them and withdrew he two thin vials from his belt and held them up for the demons to see. The inky black liquid in both sloshed heavily as he shook them.
“Funny thing about you blokes,” he said conversationally, stepping close enough to cause them to tense thickly corded muscles “get a reputation for being nearly unkillable and some tosser somewhere is going to see if it’s really true. Turns out in your case, the tosser in question was a warlock up in Toronto.”
He didn’t know if they understood him, but he was certain that their attention was on the vials now. He waved them teasingly again. “Seems it’s not enough to stick something sharp into you big uglies. Even beheading didn’t work. That’s a nice trick, by the way.”
Oh yes, they were definitely uncertain now. He stepped closer and he was almost certain they both shuffled back.
“The whole trick to killin you sods, it turns out, is exposing you to the gases from your home plane. Makes the system slow down. Hinders all that accelerated healing,” Spike grinned “Get rid of that stuff and you really aren’t anything more than a couple of dumb brutes, are you?”
He knew that wasn’t true. Even weakened, each of these things was at least twice as strong as he was. But it felt good to frighten them. He could even smell their fear now, a thin bud of it beginning to flower.
“So, I’m hear to see that bloody git of a boss of yours. Don’t suppose you’d care to move aside and let Spike have a go at him, would you? No? Didn’t think so,” he grinned, not bothering to wait for either of them to respond. The vials he was holding shattered as he threw them both at the feet of the two demons. Instantaneously the room was thick with an acrid, heavy smoke that seemed to cling to the skin. Had he needed to breath, he was certain he would be choking on the foul stuff.
The demon’s reactions were immediate and violent. They surged back to attempt to get out of range of the noxious smoke, causing the entire room to shudder as they slammed into the doorframe in their haste. Their skin was beginning to collect a sticky looking back paste and each demon was clutching at their skin. They would have been screaming, had they been able. The scent of fear coming from them was so strong that Spike picked it out even in the hazy of offensive super stink.
He didn’t give them a chance to calm themselves. Before the vials had hit the floor, his hand was at the hilt of the knife at his back and he hurled the wicked little blade with deadly accuracy. With a wet sound, it impaled itself in the forehead of the slower of the two demonic guards.
He didn’t want to dance with the second demon. Didn’t want to spar. He just wanted to kill it. All the pent up frustration and annoyance he’d been living with while impatiently allowing Gate to work his way into Dominic’s favor released itself inside him and he snarled, an animalistic sound that seemed to coo to the demon writhing beneath the chains that his soul held it bound in.
He hurled himself at the larger demon, slamming his fists into its face over and over. Distantly, he was aware that its tree trunk sized arms were wrapping around him, crushing him with jarring ferocity. A rib cracked, then a second one and he roared, digging his fingers into the creatures face. Slimy grey fluids squirted all over his hands and arms, but he kept digging.
The beasts bear hug was beginning to slow him. While he didn’t need to breath, his body was not intended to accept that kind of pressure. He felt his spine beginning to falter under the continuous assault. There was simply no turning back, though. One of them was going to die in the next few seconds and he was sure as shit not going to let it be him. His fists flailed, slamming down again and again. Each impact caused a slurpy sound as the increasingly mush-like skull of the beast seemed to clutch at him. He kept pounding though, driving his bloody, gore covered fist into the creatures skull until he felt the heavy bone give way entirely and his hand made contact with the soft meat of the brain.
They both dropped then, but only Spike staggered to his feet. He made a quick check of himself and decided that he was still good to go.
“Bloody Mary’s,” he rolled his eyes at the two dead demons, leaning down to wipe his hands off on the lavish fabric of a nearby chair. “Seen schoolgirls put up a better tussle.”
“I bet you have,” Dominic murmured as he emerged from the room the Myyaat Demon’s had been protecting.
“Not going to run?” Spike frowned. “This is the part where you should start running, mate.”
“I’m not armed,” Dominic explained, spreading his hands wide to display that fact. “I’m certainly not a combatant. If you dealt with my friends here, I doubt I’d be able to get away.”
Spike nodded. “Well, that’s thoughtful of you. You get the prize for most accommodating victim of the month.”
“Are you going to kill me?” Dominic asked him, not looking very worried about the prospect.
“That’s usually how it works,” Spike bent down to retrieve his dagger from the Myyaat’s forehead.
“I’m defenseless,” Dominic reminded him. “I don’t pose you ant danger now.”
“Playing on my sympathies here, mate?” Spike snorted a chuckle “You really haven’t gone over your study material, have you?”
“I’d assumed that a soul might change your views on mercy,” Dominic shrugged “And if I give my oath not to trouble you again? Would that suffice?”
The vampire looked Dominic over keenly, cold blue eyes taking the measure of the oily demon. There was a firm shake of his head before Spike spoke again, “Sorry mate, but I’m not buying it. Know your type. Like a soddin venereal disease, always coming back with a new plan. Can’t trust you not to pester the Slayers.”
“So that’s it? You’re just going to kill me now?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Sure you don’t wanna start running now? This hardly seems sporting, you know,” Spike frowned. This was a bit anticlimactic.
“No, you go ahead,” Dominic sighed. “I know when I’m beat.”
There was something wrong, Spike was sure of it. He just couldn’t figure what it was. The opportunity was too good to miss. He was right, a man like Dominic would never stop, never accept that he was beaten. He surged forward in the blink of an eye, hoping to surprise the demon into gaffing whatever last minute surprise he had planned. Probably thought his protective wards were still up.
Then Dominic’s hand clamped down on his head, fingers digging into his temples, and all he could do was scream.
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Tara:
Tara was fuming just a bit when she walked away from Spike and Gate. They’d explained why they’d been lying to her, explained how necessary it was, but she was still miffed. The whole time she’d been worrying about Gate betraying them and Spike had not only known it would happen but had encouraged it. And not once thought to tell her about it. They’d explained that her worry had been necessary to make Dominic believe the betrayal was real. It all sounded reasonable unless you were the one being lied too.
Stupid British… vampire, she thought with a huff.
It was a relief at least to know that Gate was with them. Or it had been until they’d explained the entire plan. He was going to fight two Slayers, at the same time, without them knowing he was on their side. With a handful of the nastiest demons in the region watching. He was crazy. That’s all there was too it. Crazy guy, that was Gate.
Not that Spike was any better. She was reasonably sure that the potions she’d made for him would be helpful against the demons they claimed would not leave Dominic’s side regardless of what Gate did but that still left Spike alone against two enraged demon brutes and a small army of armed men. Not to mention Dominic. No one seemed quite sure what Dominic could do.
And she couldn’t even go help him, she thought angrily. The gas those potions released would kill a human. No, she was supposed to just sit around and hope that neither friend died in a plan that seem half well conceived and half ass crazy ballsy.
The young witch’s expression was irate as she walked, refusing to glance over her shoulder at them and let them know she was worried. They’d give her very specific instructions and very little time to accomplish her goals. So she finally put aside her worried anger ad smoothed the comfortable layer of thin material that composed her pale dress. One deep breath and she felt better. She let a hand run absently through her long blonde hair as she considered the problem at hand.
There was a way to do it, she realized. They hadn’t given her an impossible task, just a difficult one. That made her smile, just a bit. They hadn’t hesitated in asking her either. Spike had simply said she could do it and given her her assignment. Completely confident.
He believed in her, she realized. It was a simple thing, but not something she’d really thought about before. Willow had always believed, but Tara knew that the others had always considered her to be the weaker of the two and not just in raw power. She was always so passive, so willing to accommodate. There’d been a hint of doubt about her ability to fight beside them.
But Spike believed in her, trusted her to get the job done. Placed his life in her hands. They both had.
“I gave to do this,” she whispered as her step quickened leading her down a now familiar street. At the end of the street the best of the local magic shops would be waiting with the supplies she would need. “I can do this.”
The magic store, Pandora’s Box was a dreary place. Nothing at all like the small store Giles and Anya had so lovingly maintained. It was dark with stale air and an unpleasant odor hit you as soon as you stepped through the door. Relics, curios and assorted knickknacks lined the every wall. Some were nonsense items meant for curious, ignorant souls. Others were dangerous, even illegal. Being able to differentiate between the two kind of items was part of the test to be able to purchase the more important necessities.
“Hello again, dear,” the old man behind the counter smiled toothlessly as she stepped inside. He had to be at least ninety. Bent with age, one of his eyes was a strange milky color only worked “a little” as he told it, he claimed to have moved to Vegas because his old body didn’t work so well when it rained. He was nice enough but a little odd as well.
She offered him a shy smile as she walked up to the counter and took his notepad and pen. “Hi, Thomas.” she greeted as she began writing down the list of ingredients she would need.
“In the mood for a luck charm, dear?” the old man queried in a wheezy voice. “I got a batch in from Singapore just today. Half off for you.”
“No thank you, Thomas.” she handed him the list “This is kind of an emergency. I’ll come back and look at the charms later, I promise.”
He waved absently and took her list into the back “Don’t worry over it, dear. You young people are always rushing here and there. I’m used to it. Used to do a bit of it myself, a few decades ago.” He seemed to find that funny and laughed so hard that he began to cough.
“Are you okay, Thomas?” she leaned over the counter to peek at him, but he appeared a second later and waved again.
“Fine fine, nothing to fuss over. Quite a list you have here,” there was a bit of a question in his tone. Some of the things she’d requested were dangerous, which was new for her.
She smiled in response but didn’t answer. She didn’t want to lie to him and couldn’t tell him the truth. He seemed to catch her intentions, though, and went back to filling her order.
“Got one of your books in today too,” he called from the back. The brown package behind the desk. Go head and grab it, you already paid for it.”
She thanked him and collected the package, wondering which book had arrived. She didn’t open it though, realizing that time was already running short. The book was placed in her purse with a pat and a silent promise to be reviewed at first chance.
“Here we are, dear. This is all of it.” Thomas reappeared with bag in hand, which he set on the counter as he started punching up the price.
She set some bills on the counter, more than enough to cover the costs, and grabbed the bag. “Keep it, Thomas. I’m sorry but I really have to go now.”
He protested that it was too much but she didn’t answer, instead hurrying out of the shop and all but jogging down the street in the direction of the hotel. She glanced at her watch and winced, quickening her pace. No time.
The walk to the hotel was a blur. She brushed past people when they were moving too slow, crossed the street on a red light and almost got hit by a car, but she didn’t slow. When she found the lobby, she walked past the occasional friendly face among the staff. Their affable attitudes were a bit sinister once she knew she and Spike had been under surveillance for weeks, if not longer. Indeed, now that she knew, she felt like everyone in the hotel was staring directly at her.
That feeling made her stumble but luckily she’d reached the elevator doors so she masked her trip by hitting the up button with the hand she used o catch herself. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Spike at the ball lounging indolently as a woman sat provocatively with him. He looked completely at ease, relaxed unless you knew what to look for. Tara saw the impatience radiating out of him. She pressed the elevator button again as if to make the car appear faster.
When the car finally arrived, she all but jumped inside and gently nudged a man when it appeared he might linger with her. As the door closed, she pushed him out, causing him to turn and say something that she missed when the doors closed. She offered him an apologetic smile but she didn’t think he saw it.
“Seventeenth floor, make a right. Last door has the roof access,” she murmured under her breath, reciting Gate’s instructions.
The elevator doors opened on seventeen, but she didn’t exit right away. Instead she reached into her bag and collected a vial of reddish sand. She poured a small pile onto her palm and then replaced the vial in her bag. Thus armed, she stepped out of the small car and made a right.
The two guards were posted exactly where Gate had said they’d be. Humans, male, large and thuggish looking in cheap suits and bored expressions. They perked up a bit when they saw her, grinning a bit when she walked up to them.
“You lost, girl?” one said, sounding casual.
Their leers were awkward but she was so nervous that she didn’t think to be embarrassed. Instead she lifted her palm and blew gently on the fine red powder, sending a tiny puff of it to swirl around the two men.
“Illact Tayu’Sana Visal,” she whispered as the smoke hit their surprised faces.
“What the fuck!?” one man snarled, but it was too late. He didn’t even manage to lift his hand to the holster under his jacket before he slumped down, snoring peacefully beside his partner.
“Sorry,” Tara sad quietly as she stepped over the men and opened the door leading to the roof access. A set of metal stairs waited for her and she climbed them as quickly as her long dress would allow.
The roof was empty, thankfully. She was able to lay her things out in quick order, though with many worried glances at her watch. Sands for the circle, powder for the protective pentagram. Crystals to balance the wards. Goats blood to bind it all.
Her circle finally complete, she forced herself to take a steadying breath and make certain it was complete and accurate. Horrible things happened to a careless witch. Horrible things. The circle was complete, she finally concluded. She was as prepared as she was going to be.
The blonde witch stepped into the circle and completed the protective spell. In response, a shimmering bubble of bluish energy formed around her. She nodded, calm now, knowing that she couldn’t afford to let worry or nerves interfere with her concentration. This was her world. She was good at this.
First the awareness spell. Sphinx skin and boiled cactus. In a calm place, she worked with unhurried speed, chanting softly as she ground the two ingredients into her palm and then wiped the residue in a single line along her forehead.
Gate was meeting the demons now, she realized. It was starting. Her calm quivered but held. He would be okay.
She stretched her senses as the spell took effect, casting her mind over the hotel. The enchantments, large and small that were effecting the world in the hotel became known to her. There so many, most of which seemed to ensure that the house always came out on top. These she ignored, though some distant corner of her psyche was offended by the obvious cheating.
It was the protective wards around the building that she focused on, the defensive magic built into the building that she was seeking. These spells were more difficult to find, deliberately vague impressions were all she was reading. The sorcerers who laid these spells must have worked some cloaking effect she wasn’t familiar with.
She pursed her lips, her calm shaking again. She had to bring down these wards. Spike was going to be incinerated if she didn’t. Her mind bent back to the task, all her focus driving her senses to identify the specific markers she was seeking.
Finally, she found what she was looking for. The identifying marker that belonged only to the warding magic’s.
Gate was meeting the Slayers now. He’d be fighting two Slayers. That meant Spike would head upstairs soon. She had to hurry.
Strand by delicate strand, she began to unravel the wards protecting the hotel. It was maddeningly slow task, taking torturously long moments to undo a single spell. She didn’t dare hurry herself, though. A misstep and the wards would recoil on her. She didn’t think that her warding sphere would protect her from that kind of backlash.
Step by agonizing step, inch by brutally slow inch, she gently brought down the hotel defenses. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew Spike must be moving by that point but she didn’t allow worry to distract her. He’d just have to look after himself for the time being. Sweat coursed down her gentle features, making her eyes sting. Still, she didn’t allow herself to be distracted.
The concentration required for this sort of thing was immense. When she finally destroyed the final ward, she was close to collapse. Her body sagged and she struggled to keep herself upright. Allowing herself to break the protective sphere would have been as bad as pass out, so she firmly told herself to suck it up and get back to work.
“One more,” she whispered.
She didn’t know how he’d obtained it, but Gate had pressed a ring into her hand at their meeting in the laundry mat and told her it was Dominic’s. A personal item of his. That connection was vital and she blessed him for knowing enough about magic to recognize the need.
She set the ring down gently before her and bent over it, dropping three tiny droplets of acid on its surface. After the acid, she dipped her finger into a small jar of lard and smeared a healthy dollop on the sizzling ring. Finally she took two smoking coals from the tiny brazier she’d erected earlier just for this purpose and placed them to either side of the adornment.
At last. The hammer. She picked up the small silver hammer high over her head and focused her will to a single point, honed the power inside her and directed it to unleash all of its power into a single concentrated force.
The hammer descended and she gasped as it impacted the ring at the same instant the coiled rush of power inside her lashed out. There was a second of pure, inspiring euphoria as she unleashed herself, let herself truly use all the power that she often denied. A split second of perfect bliss where she felt whole, complete.
The moment passed as quickly as it came, leaving the shuddering girl drenched, her hair and clothes absolutely soaked with her own sweat. She was slumped over, finding it difficult to breath, much less form a coherent thought. A shattered ring was on the ground in front of her, but she wasn’t entirely certain what that meant. Something about a man. A dangerous man.
Oh, Dominic.
Spike!
She had to help him. That much was certain. She pushed through the exhaustion and tried to force herself to rise, only to be assaulted by a pain in her head unlike anything she’d felt before. It felt like a whit hot knife was dragging its edge along her brain. It hurt so much, so ferociously that she couldn’t even scream. A choked sob escaped her and she tried soundlessly to shriek.
Then she saw it.
Dominic was standing beside Spike. There were in Dominic’s penthouse. Demons and men were laying motionless on the no longer white marble floor.
Dominic had a hand on Spike’s forehead, he was leaning in and seemed to be whispering in Spikes ear, though there was no sound.
A lazy, cruel smile curved Dominic’s features when he stepped back and cocked his head to the side as he studied the still motionless Spike as if admiring a statue in a museum.
Then Spike toppled forward to crash soundlessly to the ground, face first.
The cruel demon’s smile widened, then he threw back his head and laughed….
At this point, Tara felt the lights flicker, and she too crashed to
ground, passed out.