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13



Diving onto the floor, Buffy began to crawl towards the front window, pulling herself up on the sofa and peering out into the darkness. Feeling her mate join her, Buffy reached for his hand, letting his demon flow through her, fangs and bumpies extending across both faces causing shock and horror in the small room.

Ignoring her friend’s reactions, Buffy focused on the small band of soldiers creeping towards the house. How had they tracked them here?

“Twelve out back.” Angel whispered across the room, staying as low as possible as he made his way back into the room from the kitchen.

“Eighteen here.” Spike replied. “Not underestimating this time.”

“This time?” Faith demanded in a loud whisper.

“Had a bit of a run in tonight.” Buffy told her silently. “Go with Angel; take out the twelve out back, and call if you need help.”

“What about you?” Faith responded aloud.

“We’ll be fine.” Buffy told her, pulling Spike with her and creeping to the front door, wrenching it open and coming face to face with a soldier, a gun held high in his hand. Before Buffy had time to blink, the brave soldier had pulled his trigger, drenching her in water. Snapping his wrist in two and angrily bashing his head off the door frame Buffy watched in satisfaction as he slumped to the floor, his seventeen comrades closing in on them.

Shutting the door behind them, Spike stepped around his mate.

“I’ll take these wankers.” He announced, diving off the porch steps and into the middle of the advancing soldiers, taking them unprepared and using it to his advantage as he took out two at once, slamming their skulls together and dropping their prone bodies.

Seeing Spike take on the large group on their left, Buffy waited for the group on the right to get closer before she punched her fist almost straight through the man’s skull, whirling around and kicking another hard between the legs, grinning like a loon when the remaining soldiers circled her wearily, watching for any weaknesses they could exploit.

Snapping as many necks as were stupid enough to come into his reach, Spike was in his element, revelling in the stench of human death that permeated the air. He hadn’t had such a good brawl, taking down puny humans and taking lives since he had been in Prague. It was moments like these that he realised how truly great his years on this planet had been. Except for the stake that was now sticking out of his shoulder and the holy water that was burning away at his ear. Focusing on the fight at hand, Spike flung the young soldier at the wooden post that held up the porch, concussing the man and shaking the porch roof dangerously. Using his steel toed boots to cave in the soldier’s skull, he stepped away from the porch, taking on the last two soldiers in his group. Using one as a shield from the crossbow that the other held he grinned. The soldier had killed his friend. Never mind he thought, reaching out and pulling the soldier to his, wrapping an arm around the camouflaged soldier’s torso, pinning his arms in place while he sank his teeth into the pulsing throat before him, tearing a large chunk of flesh away, marvelling at the spray of arterial blood that painted the grass an appealing shade of red.

Dropping the corpse in his arms and spitting out the skin in his teeth, Spike stepped back to watch Buffy finish off her last soldier, using her fists to knock him to the ground and grinding her new stiletto heel into the cavity of his chest, his screams echoing in the still night air.

A female scream ripped through the air, tearing both Spike and Buffy’s attention from the dying soldier. “Faith.” They spoke in unison, racing around the side of the house to find Angel still wrestling with three soldiers at the same time while two held Faith in their grasp, her arms pinned to her side, her feet dangling off the floor, kicking out at nothing.

Silently reaching out and snapping the neck of one soldier, the other one holding Faith let go in shock, begging for his life before Faith knocked him out with a swift punch to the temple, turning to take on the others and finding there were none left.

Shrugging, she poked the unconscious soldier in the ribs with her boot, rolling him over and pocketing his weapons for her personal stash.

“Keep him alive.” Angel told her, his shadow looming over her, eclipsing the light from the kitchen window.

Lifting the prone figure up over his shoulder, Faith followed the tall dark vampire as he strode into the house and dumped his victim on a chair, motioning for something to use to tie him in place.

Handing Angel some handy rope, Joyce stood back in silence while the master vampire trussed the soldier upright, barely leaving enough space for the man to breathe.

“Is that entirely necessary?” Asked Giles reprovingly. He remembered a time not so long ago when it had been him, tied to a chair at the mercy of the demon that now stood before him.

“Giles?” Buffy couldn’t help but see red. These guys had come to her mother’s home, putting everyone in danger and thinking they could take on two Slayers and two master vampires and win. Whoever they were and whoever had sent them was in for a shock when they used the radios again and reported the thirty men had all been murdered along with the six from earlier in the evening. “These soldiers are after all of us. We’re all at risk here and you feel we’re being unfair by tying him up?”

“I merely feel that such restraints are not necessary while there are so many of us here to stand guard in case he attempts an escape.” Giles responded loftily, incensed at his former charge’s lack of scruples.

“Yeah well, while his dead friends can’t exactly run for help, he probably has a million and one pockets full of weapons he can use. I’d rather he stay there like a good boy until we can question him.” Buffy retorted. Not caring for the disgust on her Watcher’s face when she mentioned that the soldiers had been killed, not knocked out like he had assumed. Stretching her hand in the air, she held her palm up in front of his face rudely. “I’m not interested.” She told him coldly, backhanding their hostage savagely.

“Buffy!” Joyce scolded, not at all pleased at the displays of violence she had witnessed in the past half hour. The two Slayers had held no punches, taking down soldiers almost as fast as the two vampires had. Drusilla had merely sat in the living room, singing softly, her eyes closed as she swayed to and fro.

“Why are you wet?” Anya asked interestedly, Buffy’s new hairdo had been ruined by the sudden drenching she had received off seven of the soldiers. It had all started to make sense when she saw the burns on the side of Spike’s head.

“Holy water pistols.” Buffy replied, slapping the unconscious soldier again, smiling distractedly when he began to groan under his breath.

Letting Faith, Angel and Spike rest in the living room, having taken the soldier’s radio with them, Buffy busied herself with distracting the Scoobies with their hostage, gratefully accepting the hot chocolate that her mom had made while she waited for the soldier to wake up fully. It was no fun interrogating a dazed man. She knew she wouldn’t get the responses she wanted.

“Buffy, can we talk?” Willow asked softly, reaching out and touching the blonde’s arm gently.

“Sure,” Buffy answered, “Go ahead.”

“Here?” Willow gulped down her nerves.

“Sure.” Buffy said, her attentions focused on the concussed hostage.

“I, um, well.” Willow stopped, seeing that Buffy wasn’t even paying attention to her. “It can wait.”

“M’kay.” Buffy responded, “You awake in there?” She poked the hostage, who merely groaned in pain. “Got a name?”

“Lilac One.” The hostage croaked out defiantly, making Buffy snort in disbelief.

“Got anything I can call you with a straight face?” She quipped, earning a chuckle from the doorway. Grinning at Faith, Buffy turned back to ‘Lilac One’.

“Agent Finn.” The hostage croaked again, trying to move around in his bonds.

“So Agent Finn, how did you find us?” Buffy asked curious to know how they had been tracked so quickly.

“Trace pheromones.” Agent Finn tried to sound brave, failing miserably as his voice wavered. The small girl before him was obviously not human; her eyes shone a strange silver colour, speckled with emerald green. He had never seen a demon so attractive before.

“Tracing what?” She demanded, pushing her wet hair away from her face, wishing for a hot bath and her warm bed.

“Pheromones.” The soldier repeated quickly, “Scents of the vampire that we can trace all over town. You can’t kill us all, you’ll never escape.”

“Who are you?”

“We are everywhere.” Agent Finn replied cryptically earning him a punch to the face, making the chair scrape back across the floor, his head shook precariously over the back of the chair.

“Wanna try that one again?” Buffy offered politely.

“Why?” The hostage tried to shrug. “You’ll just kill me anyway.”

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t.” Buffy smiled, trying to hide her shivering. “So, once more. Who are you?”

“We are the United States Army.” The soldier intoned, earning another snort from the doorway.

“Wanna ask some questions?” Buffy asked Faith, indicating for the dark Slayer to join her.

“Sure.” Faith grinned, making her way to Buffy’s side. “What you got against us?”

The soldier looked at them in confusion.

“I have nothing against you. I follow orders and my orders were to retrieve the vampire.”

“Retrieve?” Spike asked from where he stood in the spot Faith had just vacated. “Go get warm love.” He told Buffy, pressing a kiss to her forehead and shooing her out of the kitchen. “Retrieve? Go on.”

“I’m not at liberty to divulge anymore.” Agent Finn spoke to Faith, ignoring Spike.

“I’m talking to you boy.” Spike growled, his training from Angelus urging him to torture the whelp, while his more sedate demon controlled these urges.

“I’d talk if I were you.” Faith chuckled lazily, “He looks pretty hungry don’tcha think?”

The hostage merely gulped, his terror was palpable in the small room, and the air was thick with horror as the Scoobies watched in silent revulsion for the way the soldier was being treated.

Willow had opted out of the interrogation session and was currently sitting in the living room with Drusilla, trying to tune out the sounds coming from the kitchen. She hadn’t even seen Buffy emerge and make her way upstairs, she was so focused on her calming meditation.

The rest of the Scoobies had stayed put in the kitchen, the revulsion they felt palpable at seeing the careless way Buffy had killed the humans. The casual way she told the poor soldier that she would probably kill him. The loving caresses from Spike that had her doing as he instructed. It was clear to Giles that his Slayer was under Spike’s control. It had never once occurred to him that the soldier was in the wrong. It was simply the poor young man’s job to do as he was ordered, and tonight he had been unfortunate to be ordered to try and take down the Slayer and her merry band of vampire freaks.

It was pure stupidity that made Rupert voice these thoughts aloud, for the next thing he knew he was pressed against the wall cabinets by an extremely pissed of vampire. Looking up into the glowing silver eyes of the platinum blonde vampire, Rupert began to protest, the hand around his throat constricting his airways and no one seemed to be moving to his defence. That was his last thought before the world around him faded to black and Buffy’s voice echoed in his skull,

“Don’t kill him yet.”