Chapter 15: God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen

“Buffy? Buffy!” Giles pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it. “The line went dead.”

“We’ve gotta help her!” Dawn cried, and Tara immediately put a comforting arm around her.

“We don’t know where they went,” Anya pointed out.

Spike strode toward the door. “I’ll find her.”

“How?” Xander asked.

“Got a nose, don’t I? She only left an hour or so ago. I can still track her.”

Xander made a face. “Gross, but useful.”

“Yes, or you could simply look up David Kessler in the phone book.” Giles held up the copy they kept behind the register, causing Spike and Xander to exchange sheepish looks. “Thirty-six Crawford Street.”

Spike nodded, turning again toward the door.

“I’m going with you,” Xander insisted, following on his heels.

“No.” Spike stopped him by placing a hand on his chest. “’S too dangerous. Slayer wouldn’t want you there. ’Sides, not gonna need a lot of muscle in this fight. If this guy goes down, it’s gonna be by magic.” He nodded to Tara. “I’m taking the witch. That’s all.”

“We can take my car,” Tara replied, in tacit agreement.

As the two of them disappeared out the door, Xander said, “Giles, we can’t just sit here! We have to do something!”

“I agree. Grab some weapons.” Giles scanned the remnants of the locator spell, and then snatched up a crystal that Tara had used, handing it to Anya. “Take this to Willow’s. Tell Emma to focus on Tara’s magical signature and channel as much power as she can spare.” He glanced at Dawn. “Both of you, go – and stay there.”

*****

Buffy woke up as she was being carried out of the study by two of the hooded demons. She struggled against their grasp, but found she had no strength to resist them. Whatever drug had been in her drink had also drained her slayer powers.

“Let me go!” she cried, continuing to thrash even though it was doing nothing more than tiring her out.

The ruckus alerted Jacob, who came flying out of the living room, and to her surprise, he looked astonished at the scene in front of him.

“Dad, what the hell are you doing?”

“My associates are taking Miss Summers upstairs, Jacob,” David replied calmly, as though Buffy were simply being escorted on a tour of the house. “I want to thank you for delivering her to me.”

Jacob’s eyes widened, and he desperately tried to meet Buffy’s gaze. “No! Buffy, I swear I didn’t know –” He cut off abruptly, spinning around and grabbing his father by the arm. “It was you, wasn’t it? The bad guy Buffy’s been trying to find. It was you all along!”

David smiled. “You can be terribly dim sometimes, boy.”

“You can’t do this! Dad, she’s my girlfriend!” Boldly, he stood in front of his father, blocking the path to the stairs.

“Mmm, soon to be ex-girlfriend, I’d say,” David said with false sympathy. “If her little trysts with the vampire are any indication.” He stepped aside so that Jacob could see Buffy’s horrified expression at having the truth revealed so callously.

“Spike? Buffy… is that true?”

Buffy stopped struggling against the demons, her lower lip quivering as she brought her gaze up to meet Jacob’s. “I’m sorry.”

“Still want to protect her?” David asked. “Go against my wishes for a little slut?”

Jacob hesitated, his eyes flickering between Buffy and his father.

“Yes.”

He shoved his father as hard as he could, causing the older man to stumble backwards, but he recovered to backhand Jacob across the face, flinging him into the wall. Jacob slumped to the ground, still conscious but too dazed to get up.

“That’s a shame,” David said, gesturing for the demons to take Buffy upstairs, leaving his son lying in the hall.

Once on the second floor, the demons followed David down the hall and into the second-floor study, where Buffy was then chained to the wall at the point of a pentagram painted on the floor. Unlike the downstairs office, which was suited to a businessman of Mr. Kessler’s stature, this room was full of magical paraphernalia, the walls adorned with medieval weaponry and ancient occult symbols. Candles, crystals, herbs, and various other artifacts similar to ones she’d seen at the Magic Box lay scattered about, and she could see the remnants of other completed rituals.

“What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” Buffy asked, with more confidence than she felt as she tugged on the chains clamped to her wrists. There was enough give for her to take a few steps, but it wasn’t far enough to reach a weapon or anything of use, and the warlock was careful to stay well out of range. “You think I’m gonna let you dismember me so you can become some kind of god? Think again, jackass.”

“I don’t believe you’re in any position to tell me what to think,” David pointed out, as the two Veloxin demons lit candles and placed them along the edge of the circle surrounding the pentagram. “Though I do admire your gumption. I didn’t realize Slayers were so… spunky.”

“You’ve been manipulating me,” Buffy said coldly. “And I really don’t like that.”

He took out what looked like a bone saw and ran his hand down the blade, pricking the tip of his finger with the point. “And yet you made it so easy. You can go,” he said, turning his attention to the demons, who had finished their task. They nodded and left the room, closing the door behind them.

Buffy fumed, redoubling her efforts with the chains. “You won’t get away with it. Jacob’s probably downstairs calling the police right now.”

“No. He’s not.” David paused in the center of the pentagram, where he was letting his blood drip onto the floor, and glanced up at Buffy. “If he tries, my guards have orders to slit his throat.”

She gaped at him. “You’d kill your own son?”

“I think we’ve established that I’m not exactly squeamish, don’t you? I am about to dismember you.”

“The hell you are.”

David dropped the bone saw to the floor with a clatter, stalking over to one of the tables of magic supplies that lined the walls and picking up a sachet or talisman of some kind. He came back over to Buffy, but was forced step backward when he got within kicking range of her black stiletto-heel boots.

“Now, you listen here. I like a girl who’s spirited, but I will not let you ruin this for me.” He held up the trinket, which Buffy realized was a lock of brown hair wound with some kind of herb. “I’ve got your sister’s hair. You will do as I say, or I’ll kill her right now. Do you understand?”

Buffy just stared at him defiantly, but an icy knot of fear was coiling in her stomach, and she stopped struggling against the chains.

*****

“This is it.”

Tara screeched the car to a halt in front of the Kessler mansion, and she and Spike ran for the front porch. Spike kicked in the door and tried to go in, but ran full speed into the barrier and bounced back.

“Bloody hell!” he roared, kicking and pounding on the invisible wall.

“Oh, no,” Tara said, realizing the problem.

“Same rules as always, love.” Spike slammed his fist against the empty space dejectedly. “Guess you’re on your own.”

Just then, Jacob appeared in the hallway, looking dazed and holding his head. Before he even had a chance to react to the newcomers on his doorstep, Tara ran inside, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him.

“Invite him in!”

Jacob stared at the vampire, his father’s words echoing as he pictured Buffy’s guilty expression. Then, after a moment, he relented. “Come in, Spike.”

Spike plowed through the doorway, and Tara managed to get out of the way in time for him to haul off and punch Jacob hard enough to send him flying into a four foot tall ceramic urn. The urn shattered, and Jacob bounced off the wall behind it, collapsing on top of the broken pieces. He was unconscious but not dead, which Spike felt he could remedy later if necessary. First priority was Buffy.

“She’s through here,” Spike said, leading the way down the hall, following his nose. “And somebody’s bleeding.”

They ran into the living room, and Spike could tell that Buffy had been there, but the only trace of her was an almost empty wine glass on the coffee table. Back out in the hall, he next burst into the first-floor study. He spotted Buffy’s abandoned cell phone on the floor, but again, no sign of the Slayer herself.

“So… where is she?” Tara asked.

Spike spun around, trying to hone in on his senses. He hurried back out of the room and to the end of the hall, then glanced up. “Above us. Gotta find the stairs.”

“This place is huge.” Tara scurried to keep up with Spike as he launched down another corridor. “Maybe you shouldn’t have knocked Jacob out.”

Suddenly, a robed Veloxin demon stepped into their path, and Spike dropped him with a quick punch. Another followed, which Tara hit with a burst of magical energy. Two more came out of a doorway behind them, and it took a few minutes of grappling before all four bodies were lying on the floor.

Spike shook off his game face and grabbed Tara by the arm. “Come on!”

They burst through a set of double doors and found themselves in the dining room, the table elegantly set for a Christmas dinner that wouldn’t be eaten. The wall opposite them was a bank of windows looking out over a landscaped backyard, cloaked in shadow.

“Wrong way,” Tara observed. “I think if we’d gone straight instead of turning left, back by the Monet painting…”

“Shh!” Spike held his hand up to silence her. “You hear that?”

“No vampire hearing, remember?”

“I think she’s chained up. Could hear ’em rattling a minute ago… but there’s nothing now.” He looked at her, hoping against hope that Buffy hadn’t stopped fighting back for the reason he feared. “Can you break them from here? Might buy some time.”

“I can try.”

*****

“Here’s the thing,” David said, brandishing his bone saw as he approached Buffy slowly. “I need to cut you up into little pieces, and I’d really like it if you didn’t make a big fuss. So, are you going to cooperate, or do I need to kill Dawn?”

In response, Buffy kicked again, her blow falling short as he took another step back.

The warlock shook his head. “That wasn’t nice.” He pulled the lock of hair out of his pocket and began to mutter under his breath in Latin.

“NO!” Buffy shrieked. “No, please – okay! I won’t – I… Just don’t hurt her.”

Smiling, David stepped right up to Buffy and ran a hand through her hair, sending chills of disgust down her spine as she forced herself not to jerk away. He would probably have to restrain her with magic once the actual dismemberment began – she wouldn’t be able to help the physical reaction – but for now, he preferred this, the fear, the manipulation, the forced submission to his command.

As he raised the bone saw, Buffy squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for the pain. Instead, she felt her manacles magically spring open, and she opened her eyes in disbelief. The warlock’s face was as startled as hers, so she ruled out a change of heart and quickly shoved him backwards before he had a chance to react. She kicked the saw out of his hands and sent it skittering across the floor.

The kick was solid for a girl her size, but her reaction time was slow, and she knew she was still under the effects of the drugs. Before she could make her next move, she was grabbed from behind, and the bone saw flew off the ground and into David’s hand, the serrated blade pressed against her throat.

“What did I say about cooperating?” he growled in her ear.

Buffy snapped her head back, bashing her crown into his forehead. Shaking the letter opener out of her sleeve, she jammed it into his thigh as hard as she could. David let her go with a yell, and she scrambled to the other side of the room.

She was seeing stars from the head-butt, but she scrabbled around, looking for a weapon, knowing that hand-to-hand combat wouldn’t hold off the mage for long without her slayer strength. She pulled a medieval battle-axe off the wall and swung it at David, feeling a shock go through her arms as the blade bounced off an invisible force field.

She tried again, with the same result. As she lifted the axe for a third attempt, it was snatched out of her hands and then came flying back toward her, wielded by magic. She ducked quickly, and the axe embedded itself in the wood paneling behind her.

Glancing around desperately for some other way to fight the mage, her gaze landed on a large triangular blue stone, which Giles had pointed out to her while they were researching. The Osiris stone, the one needed for the ritual.

Grabbing it, Buffy heaved the stone at David as hard as she could. He dodged out of the way, and it crashed to the floor and shattered at his feet. To her surprise, it burst into flames. Since the fire was between her and the warlock, with the door in her favor, she didn’t mind so much. With the fire as a distraction, Buffy ran for the door, fleeing into the hall and then down the stairs, tripping over a step and tumbling the rest of the way down.

Spike was pulling her to her feet almost before she’d hit the ground.

When she realized who had grabbed her, she flung her arms around his neck in relief. He wrapped one arm around her waist, more for holding her upright than affection, as he dragged her away from the stairs.

“No time for that, pet. Come on.”

She wondered for a moment whether he was angry with her, or just tense because of the situation, but as they fled into the labyrinth of hallways, he couldn’t resist a teasing, “Slayer agility, huh?”

“Shut up. He drugged me.”

“You all right?”

She shook her head. “No superpowers. Just regular old Buffy.”

“What about – ?” He gestured back in the direction from which they’d come.

“I slowed him down a little, but it’s not over.”

They turned a corner and ran into Tara, who was currently holding off two Veloxins with magic. Spike dove right in, taking one off her hands and snapping its neck quickly. With a sudden surge of power, Tara managed to send the other flying into a wall, tearing a hole in the Monet as it crashed all the way through into the next room.

“Whoa…” the witch said, looking down at the hand she’d used to release the energy, realizing that Emma was remotely feeding her power.

“Hey, have you guys seen Jacob?” Buffy asked, once it was relatively calm. When Spike gave her a dark look, she explained, “He wasn’t in on this. He tried to help me.”

“Unconscious in the front hall,” Spike told her, making no effort to disguise his satisfaction.

“Your work?” she asked dryly.

“You can spank me later.”

“I think there’s more coming,” Tara interrupted.

They could hear the thunder of footsteps, and Spike turned, ready to take them by surprise when they came around the corner. Tara took up a stance flanking him, and Buffy, somewhat hesitant without a weapon or her slayer powers, stayed behind.

Two demons came around the bend, and Spike fought them both back at once, slipping into game face again as he rained down punches. Tara took the next two, sending them flying down the hallway with gale-force winds.

While they were preoccupied, David slipped through the fighting, headed for Buffy. Catching sight of him, she tried for a punch, but he simply put up a hand and her fist met a force field instead of his face. She backed away, grabbing a vase of flowers off an end table and hurling it at the warlock, who batted it away easily. He stepped toward her, one hand outstretched, curling his fingers as though he were squeezing her throat.

Suddenly, a magical force started choking her, and she was lifted up off the ground, her feet dangling a foot off the floor. “Spike, help!” she squeaked.

Spike spun around and delivered a solid roundhouse kick to the warlock’s head, distracting him enough so that he lost his focus and Buffy was released.

“Buffy, run!” Spike yelled, as another Veloxin jumped onto his back. He slammed the demon against the wall until it relinquished its hold, but Buffy was already gone.

So was David.

*****

When Giles and Xander pulled up to the Kessler mansion, they found the front door standing open and signs of a fight in the foyer.

“That’s not a good sign,” Xander said.

Giles said nothing, drawing his sword as he cautiously entered the house. Xander drew his own weapon and followed.

“Any sign of her?” Xander whispered as they crept down the hallway, though they hadn’t come across anyone, demon or human.

Giles shushed him and cocked his head toward a closed door, listening. “Let’s see what’s in here, shall we?”

The door was locked, but after a few tries, the two of them managed to kick it in. Inside the room, they found four robed Veloxin demons kneeling in a circle on the floor, performing some sort of ritual.

“I’m sorry,” Giles said, with a sarcastic attitude reminiscent of his Ripper days. “Are we interrupting?” He thrust his sword into the robes of the closest demon, and with that, the two of them went to work.

*****

Buffy ran down the corridor, knowing that she’d never be able to lose the warlock in his own house. Hoping to escape him for at least a few minutes in order to regroup, she burst through a door and slammed it shut behind her, leaning back against it, breathing heavily.

Taking in her surroundings, she realized she was in the dining room, at the back of the house. Before she had a chance to think of a plan, the door burst open behind her, flinging her farther into the room and sending her tumbling to the floor. She rolled over onto her back to find David looming in the doorway, his fingertips crackling with magic.

She scrambled backward on all fours, bumping into one of the dining room chairs. David extended his hand, and Buffy was suddenly lifted up off the floor and thrown onto the table. She skidded across it, taking place settings and centerpieces with her as the tablecloth slid on the smooth wood beneath. She toppled off the opposite side, landing with the crash of breaking china.

Buffy hissed as she pulled a salad fork out of her upper arm and brushed shards of glass from her clothes. Grabbing onto a chair, she pulled herself to her feet, only to find David glowering at her from the doorway.

“You little bitch!” he spat, stepping toward her menacingly. The table was between them, but she knew that would give her little protection against magic. “You broke my Osiris stone.”

“Guess you can’t do your ritual now, huh?”

Her head snapped backwards with the force of a blow, although nothing had touched her.

“I can get another one. But now I’m going to have to keep you here until I do.”

Buffy smirked at her advantage. “So, that means you can’t kill me.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t make it hurt.” With that, he waved his hand again, and Buffy went sailing into the grandfather clock in the corner, smashing through the glass and slamming her head into the chimes with a loud dong before she fell to the ground.

Struggling to keep from blacking out as her head vibrated with the chimes, Buffy again pulled herself up, determined not to make this easy for him, even without her slayer powers.

Slowly, David made his way around the table, keeping his gaze fixed on her, waiting for her to make a move. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Spike appear in the doorway, but kept her expression stony so as not to give away his presence.

“You want me?” she taunted, trying to keep the warlock’s attention as Spike crept up behind him. “You’re gonna have to come and get me.”

Spike hit David from behind with a kick to the temple, spinning him around so that he could follow it up with a left hook. Before he could get off another punch, Spike went flying through the plate-glass windows that lined the back wall, tumbling into the backyard. He scrambled to his feet and ran back into the house, but Tara was already there, hitting David with an impressive light show that forced him to throw up a protective shield.

“Three against one,” Spike pointed out. “Odds aren’t exactly in your favor.”

“I can fix that.”

Whether by luck or by magic, three more Veloxins appeared in the doorway, one of them knocking Tara to the ground as the other two went after Buffy.

Snatching up a large piece of wood, part of the broken frame of the grandfather clock, Buffy used it to keep her attackers at bay. Tara managed to recover enough to take out the demon that had hit her, and then shot a bolt of energy at one of the ones that had gone after Buffy.

Spike tried to attack David again, but the protective shield prevented him from landing any blows. The mage dropped the shield to hit Spike with magic, but he always managed to get it back up before the vampire could retaliate.

Then, David pulled out the charm with Dawn’s hair and said, “Back off. Or I kill the Slayer’s sister.”

Spike froze.

*****

Sliding his sword out of the dead Veloxin’s chest, Xander noticed the charm in the center of the circle. As Giles finished slaughtering the last of the demons, wiping his blade on its black robe, Xander bent down and examined the charm. It was very similar to the one David had, except the hair was a very recognizable red.

“Hey, Giles. Check this out.”

*****

Across town, Willow suddenly sat up, gasping, her hair damp with sweat. Emma hurried to the bedside, pressing the back of her hand to the girl’s forehead. She smiled.

“The fever’s broken.”

*****

Spike stared at the lock of hair in the warlock’s hand, wary that the slightest movement could mean Dawn’s death.

He’s bluffing, Tara’s voice echoed in his head, nearly making him jump out of his skin. He’d almost gotten used to Willow popping up in his head over the summer, but he wasn’t expecting it from Tara. She’d never been able to do it before Emma’s power boost.

Bloody witches, he thought.

I can hear you, you know!

What d’you mean, he’s bluffing?

A spell like that takes time – and effort, she explained, while still using her magic to spar with one of the demons. He can’t pull it off without dropping the shield, and you’d be able to take him out before he completed the spell.

As she was distracted, the demon she’d been fighting managed to slip past her defenses, picking her up and throwing her against the wall. She hit her head and sank to the ground, unconscious.

“Tara!” Spike cried.

Then, he heard a gunshot, and the demon crumpled to the ground next to the witch. Spike and David both spun to see Buffy across the room, the handgun now trained on the warlock. A demon lay dead at her feet, the wooden clock frame sticking out of its chest.

“I think we’re just about done here,” Buffy said coldly, her aim never wavering.

“You won’t kill me,” David scoffed, maintaining his shield in the standoff. “You’re the Slayer. You can’t kill a human; it goes against everything you fight to protect.”

“I think I can make an exception for an evil freakin’ lunatic.”

“Go on, then,” he challenged her. “Pull the trigger. I’m your boyfriend’s father.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” she corrected, with more confidence than she felt, cocking the hammer with a click.

Gambling on her strict moral code to keep her from shooting, David dropped the shield to fire another bolt of energy.

Buffy’s hands trembled, and she hesitated.

Spike didn’t.

The sound of the warlock’s neck snapping echoed in the high-ceilinged room. He fell to the floor with a thump, and then it was silent.