Chapter 1

"Lights out!"

Faith ignored the strident voice of Officer Roth as she alerted everyone that it was ten o'clock, time to close the cell doors, go to sleep. Apparently everything was to the satisfaction of the schoolmarm from hell, because she stopped talking. Faith could hear her boots smartly clipping out of the cellblock, even over the sound of over a hundred cell doors locking at once. She imagined Officer Mayfield sitting in the control booth, not even looking up from one of those massive sword-and-sorcery novels she was always reading as she pushed the buttons that activated the locking mechanisms on each floor. Ah, correctional officers - always such a perfect blend of indifference and sadism.

She occupied the bottom of the two bunks in her cell. Her cellmate Rebecca was probably already asleep on the bed above her. Her physical health was still a little out of whack, being a former crackhead and all. A skinny white girl with bad teeth, she had been busted for possession of crack cocaine. Faith had learned about the "unfairness" of the justice system - everyone had a problem with it. For Rebecca and most of the other nonviolent drug offenders, it was the fact that getting caught with a few rocks of crack cocaine was about as bad as getting caught with a trunk full of cocaine powder. "Why?" she had asked ages ago.

"Because it's cheap," Rebecca had said dully.

"So let me get this straight," Faith had replied. "You get five years in prison for twenty bucks in crack or twenty _thousand_ in cocaine?" Rebecca had muttered something about everyone saying it was a racial thing, not that that had changed anything for fair-skinned Becca, Faith had thought.

But her "roommate" was doing better these days. She had been lucky in sharing space with Faith; not only was Faith not interested in shaking her cellmate down like some others did, or worse, but she had made it clear that she "resented" people trying to put color in Rebecca's face. Hey, she had to protect someone, didn't she?

Of course, Faith couldn't save herself from her own demons. Being in prison was like an emotional roller coaster. Some days she could get up with the morning sun, others she looked in the mirror and saw nothing staring back at her. You couldn't scare some things off with a wisecrack or false bravado, you know. Not betrayal or murder.

Which drew her back to the letter, of course. She vaguely remembered the person who had written her - Tara, the "special friend" of . . . did she deserve to say her name? Faith was sure that Willow had tried to etch her own name out of her memory with acid and a blowtorch. Anyway, Faith had cruelly belittled Tara the night she met her, even though she wasn't one of those people who thought they should all be put back in the closet with the door locked from the outside. Faith could just tell she was an easy target that night. She supposed Tara had gotten that a lot in high school, as if that excused things.

Tara had not spoken of the incident in her letter. Instead she wrote about demons. Seems she had one or two of her own, though she wasn't up for details. Tara said that . . . Buffy (there, you said it!) had told everyone one day about how Faith had turned herself into the police on some momentary guilt trip, and how she was out of their lives forever. Willow had told Tara about all the things Faith had done, and she had been horrified, of course. But Tara had also been worried by the hatred that poured from Willow's lips. "Most people don't go to jail forever," Tara wrote. "They get out eventually. And some of them come out rehabilitated. If you do some day, you need to come back to Sunnydale." Faith had thought that was a real kick. "I've had lots of time to think about this," Tara had continued, "and Willow's history with you isn't a scar, it's still a bleeding wound. I don't know if your differences are the kind that _can_ be settled, but you're going to have to talk one last time if either of you plan on moving on."

Could she move on? Was that what she deserved, or was she just supposed to keep on paying? She had seen Buffy's face that day, and the shame had welled up, hot and painful. Tara had been right about one thing, some differences couldn't be settled.

She was still the Slayer, however, and that made her uniquely qualified to settle some things once and for all. Like vampires, for example. Crazy as it sounded, Faith was now convinced that a vampire was preying on inmates at the women's correctional facility. She even thought she had it figured out. She supposed she would know within the next couple of hours. Maybe then she'd have an answer to the locked-door mystery that really had begun for her a few days ago.

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(Two days ago)

Faith smiled to herself as the person in front of her said, "Oh no! Not blutwurst!"

The cafeteria lady looked at the prisoner strangely. "It's hamburger," she barked in reply.

"C'mon Storm, you're holding up the line!" someone behind Faith shouted. Faith got some "blutwurst" of her own and followed the woman called "Storm" to a table where two others waited.

"What's blutwurst supposed to mean?" Rebecca wondered as Faith sat down next to her.

"Red meat," Faith replied. "Rogue and Storm don't even like it well done, isn't that right?"

The two women in front of them grumpily nodded. Except they weren't women. They were demons. Faith knew because she was the Slayer, and anyway she had gotten them to tell her. Apparently they belonged to a race of nomadic and, get this, pacifist demons. Normally they avoided human contact and wandered the world, keeping to the shadows and traveling in subway tunnels, sewers, caves and dark alleys. Some group of vampires had discovered how to mix a substance which, when ingested, affected some types of demons the way PCP affected humans. Rogue and Storm had both gotten addicted to the drug and began harassing people. Faith feigned ignorance when they talked about the vampire with a soul who had separately beaten them both into submission. "Angel does get around," she thought at the time.

They weren't in prison for drug possession, mind you. They had some drugs on them, but to humans it wasn't drugs. That hadn't stopped the police from taking it away from them, though. Each of them had reacted violently, and _that_ was why they were in jail - assaulting a police officer. Now that they were over the effects of the drug, they were mortified by their behavior and considered it fitting punishment that they be forced to remain in a "small" enclosed space, instead of being free to wander. Fortunately they just looked human enough that no one asked too many questions. When they had gotten there everyone just called them "the mutants." Then they had shown the X-Men movie a few weeks ago, and now everyone called the darker-skinned one "Storm" and the lighter-skinned one "Rogue." Faith had been unable to learn their real names; they seemed to prefer their nicknames.

"You heard the news?" Rogue said.

Faith nodded. A fellow prisoner had allegedly committed suicide the night before. Rumor had it she had slashed her own throat. If it was true, then she was the second person in two weeks to kill herself in such strange fashion. "You think it's a coincidence that they both cut their own throats?"

Storm shook her head. "No, I think it's a coincidence that both women were planning to take over Abigail's gang."

Faith hadn't known that. Not long after she came to begin her memorable stay, she had learned that many of the prisoners had joined one of two groups. Faith had been reasonably surprised to learn that one of the gangs called themselves "Slayers." Even more interesting, their leader Abigail had spent fifteen years in prison for murdering her husband, and then the last three on Death Row for killing a male guard who had put his hands on her breasts. It seemed there were all kinds of ways to get messages out to the general population, however, even from Death Row. No wonder they were called "trusties," you could trust them to smuggle anything.

Abigail's reign was over, however. She had gotten the gas chamber a few weeks ago, and now there was a power vacuum. Bryce, the leader of the other gang, the "Vipers," was lording it around the prison these days. If the Slayers didn't have a leader soon, the Vipers would swallow them whole like a real snake eats an egg.

Rebecca and Rogue had been talking while Faith was thinking, and Rebecca tapped her on the shoulder, irritated. "Faith? Planning on sharing your thoughts with us?"

She blinked and shrugged. "Sorry, I was just thinking if one of the Vipers could have murdered both of them."

Storm snorted. She was the smarter of the two demons. "Sure, sometime between lockdown at 10 PM and wakeup at 7 the next day, a prisoner opened a cell door that can't be opened without opening every other door on that floor. They then killed the hu-, the woman without causing a struggle or waking anyone in the neighboring cells up. Then they left and returned to their own, equally miraculously unlocked cell." She rolled her not-quite human eyes.

"How do we know it wasn't the roommate?" Faith retorted. "Paid off or threatened by the Vipers?"

"_They_, as in the officers, know because both women had seniority, if you know what I mean."

Faith did. Each cell was built to hold two prisoners, but they rarely had enough inmates to put two in every cell. So the ones who had been there the longest got their very own room. Something to make the years go by easier.

Rebecca leaned over conspiratorially. "Tina told me it was a vampire," she said mockingly.

The hairs stood up on the back of Faith's neck. Storm and Rogue didn't laugh, looking at Faith as if they caught her vibes. "What kind of crazy idea is that?" Faith finally said.

"Because of the blood," Rebecca whispered. "I mean, their throats were cut. There should have been bloodstains sprayed everywhere. But when Josephine bit the dust a couple weeks ago, there was just a little blood under her body, a little on her uniform, and that's it. Tina said there were scary stories about how a monster crawled between the bars, drank her blood, and slashed her throat to make it look like a suicide." She snickered. "Guess she shouldn't have watched that movie with the guy from All My Children."

Grimacing as she took a bite of her hamburger, Rogue dropped it back on her tray. "Where's she hiding? Can't avoid the sunlight if you're a prisoner, you know."

Rebecca smirked. "That's the best part. She doesn't think it's a prisoner, she suggested it was Officer Roth."

Now Faith laughed. "She has ice in her veins, Rebecca! If she drank someone's blood we'd all know because she'd have red in her cheeks." They all chortled - quietly, so as not to get anyone's attention.

Storm turned serious. "Whoever's doing it, I guess you're glad you turned those two down, huh Faith?"

Faith glared daggers at her, but Rebecca already had figured out what Storm meant. "No, Faith! Someone . . ." she dropped to a whisper, "someone wanted to make you the head of the Slayers?"

"They said they liked my reputation," Faith sighed. "I reminded them I had a rep for not wanting to get involved, and they walked away." She had absolutely no desire to get involved in gang warfare. Keeping her aggression in check was never an easy thing, and if she suddenly made a few dozen enemies, she might do something she'd regret. One more thing on a long list, she thought to herself and winced.

"Bryce is picking on Valerie and some of the new crackheads again," Rebecca said innocently. "Too bad the guards won't stop it. Too bad someone can't do something about it."

Faith pushed her tray to the side. "I can't keep an eye on every woman who can't defend herself. I'll be expected to start a fight with every Viper or Slayer who corners some junkie while my back is turned."

"You shouldn't worry about the Slayers, that name won't be around for much longer."

She recognized Bryce's voice behind her, but she wouldn't deign to turn around. "What's wrong, Bryce? No room at your regular table?"

Bryce sauntered around the table with her empty tray in one hand, stopping behind Storm and Rogue. "I don't understand why you're hesitating, Faith. In a few weeks the Slayers are going to simply dissolve without real leadership, and then it's just going to be us Vipers. You should join us before it's too late."

"I beat up three of your members, Bryce. Think it'd be all right with them?"

"They do what I tell them," Bryce said idly. "Do you want to be with your friends here at the bottom of the prison totem pole?" Rogue bristled but Storm put her hand on her forearm.

But as Bryce went on, extolling the virtues of taking orders from her (which seemed to include, by implication, favoritism from the guards), Faith only listened with half an ear. Meanwhile she was thinking about the idea that a vampire had killed those two Slayers. The latest killing had taken place one floor above her bunk, about five or six cells down if she remembered correctly. Last night she had been awakened sometime after midnight and had brief stomach pains. Faith occasionally got that feeling when she sensed vampires nearby, but it had been so long since she was near one that she had briefly forgotten. What was it that had disturbed her sleep last night? Could it have been quiet footsteps above her?

There was a way to find out, she decided. Bryce had finished talking and seemed to be expecting Faith to correct the error of her ways and become a Viper enforcer. She smiled at the gang leader and said, "Don't forget to try the hamburger, Bryce. It's yummy."

Bryce sneered and started to walk away. As she did so, Faith continued, "You know, I'm not so sure you're right about the Slayers."

"Excuse me?"

"They won't be leaderless when I take over in a couple of days." Faith spoke loud enough for the few tables nearest hers to hear her.

Both Bryce and Rebecca's mouths fell open. Recovering, Bryce stormed off in a huff. Faith looked at the others, hearing the whispers spread across the lunchroom like a wildfire. "What?"

Storm looked at her piercingly. "Was that just you sticking it to Bryce, or have you suddenly stopped straddling the fence?"

Faith shrugged. "You'll know in a couple days. Rebecca, close your mouth before birds take nest." Rebecca blushed and started eating again.

Chapter 2

Faith wondered what time it was as she lay in her bed. Midnight? So far no one had paid her a visit in her cell to "arrange" her suicide. Maybe she had gotten herself in a royal mess for no reason.

Three nights after basically declaring herself for leader of the Slayers, a gang she didn't even belong to, Faith had heard from nearly everyone. Her cellmate Rebecca and other defenseless convicts were secretly happy, although they didn't show it for fear of angering anyone who thought she should be the leader of the Slayers and not Faith. There certainly were a couple. Most Slayers were torn; on the one hand, she wasn't one of them, but on the other, she had beat the crap out of three different Vipers. Faith had heard from several of them too. They all said Bryce was going to destroy her. "Never heard that before," Faith muttered to herself.

She had even been called over for a one-on-one conference with Officer Roth, the unofficial leader of the Corrections officers. Roth had warned her that her record was ugly enough as it was, what with three fights, and that getting involved in gang warfare was a sure ticket to solitary. "What gangs?" Faith had asked innocently, and Roth had stomped away, murmuring that it was Faith's funeral.

Faith was worried now that she wouldn't be able to back away from this. Already some of the most senior Slayers had put out feelers, suggesting that they might be willing to accept her as leader. What if her impulsive little gambit just . . .

She heard something. Most sleeping inmates wouldn't have, but to Faith's keen hearing, it sounded suspiciously like footsteps. Very quiet ones, at that. No prisoner could be out of her cell, unless she had spent nineteen years hammering a hole through the wall like that guy in the _Shawshank Redemption_ movie (why the prison showed a movie about people _escaping_ was still beyond her). And an officer would be clomping down the hall in those thick shoes they usually wore.

As soon as she saw the shadow near her cell, Faith shut her eyes tightly and prayed Rebecca wouldn't wake up. After a moment she was astounded to hear her cell door sliding open very quietly. This was definitely getting into the territory of impossibility. She resisted the urge to look at her visitor and remained perfectly still. Her left hand, hidden from the interloper's view by her body, was clenched tightly in a fist. She sincerely hoped this was a vampire, for otherwise she was probably screwed.

Faith felt a cold hand placed over her mouth. She opened her eyes wide, pretending to wake up. Looming over her in the dark was an unfamiliar African-American woman with a silver necklace, a finger to her lips. "Make a noise and your cellmate gets it," she whispered.

Faith nodded, and the woman removed her hand. "Who are you?" she said quietly.

"That's right, you're new. Well, it doesn't matter. You decided you wanted to be leader of the Slayers, and now you gots to die for it. Just for the record," she added, "I'm sorry." With that her face rippled and the fangs came out.

Suppressing a sigh of relief, Faith tensed. "I'm sorry too," she whispered.

"For what?"

"For this." She stuck her left hand in the vampire's face, revealing the small silver crucifix inside of it. The vampire hissed and flew backwards. Faith was out of her bed in a heartbeat and began to pummel the creature. Rather than fight back, Faith's would-be assassin broke away from her and ran out the door. She slammed the cell shut before Faith could pursue her. The sound of the door shutting was loud, but it didn't seem to create much of a reaction from the sleeping prisoners. Faith pounded the bars in frustration.

"Faith, what is it?" Rebecca whispered sleepily.

Thinking quickly, Faith came over to the upper bunk. "Nothing, Rebecca. I was just thinking about this whole gang thing, and I hit the iron bars." As she said this, Faith suddenly realized she was standing on something. She bent over to see what it was as Rebecca yawned a "Good night" and turned over. It appeared to be a small white rod made of some organic material. It was pointed on one end and knobby on the other. The knob had a few small notches carved into it, making it look like a face. The whole thing looked like a . . .

"Skeleton," Faith murmured. "A _real_ skeleton key." Evidently it was made of bone. The new vampire must have dropped it. Seized by another one of those impulses of hers, she took the "key" and went over to the gate. Experimentally, she held it by the knob and tapped the point against the metal. Rather than making a tapping noise, the point sank right into the iron as if there was a hole there. Faith's eyes grew wide. When she pulled the key out, the metal was once again solid and unmarked.

She tried the key again, but this time she jiggled it. Faith heard a small click, and miraculously, the door slowly opened when she pulled. The key's powers were incredible. Better yet, without the key the vampire would be trapped on the cellblock. She quietly let herself out of her cell and went hunting.

As she went quietly past the cells and their sleeping occupants, she froze when she heard her name called quietly. Faith turned around and dimly saw Storm's face against the bars of her cell. "Was it a vampire?" she whispered.

"Yes, it was. How did you know?"

Storm rolled her eyes. "Why else would you be out of your cell? I figured when you declared yourself for the position of Slayer leader that you were making yourself bait for the vampire. When I heard your cell door close - don't worry, it was just my demon's hearing - I figured you might be coming. But I think she went the other way, I didn't see anyone go by."

"Thanks, Storm," Faith replied. She held up the key. "This is how she got in and out. An honest-to-god magical skeleton key."

"I didn't think she turned into a mouse and crawled away like in _The Green Mile_. Mr. Jingles was no killer."

Rogue's face appeared next to Storm's. "Be careful, Faith. Don't get caught."

Faith smiled in the darkness. "Thanks, Rogue, I'll try not to."

"I mean it, Faith. I overheard Bryce talking to Officer Roth. Roth was saying how it might be for the best if something happened to you."

She stiffened. "She said that?"

Rogue nodded solemnly. "She said that otherwise, all the crackheads and the other ninety-pound weaklings might start getting ideas. So when you track the vampire down, don't lose sight of that. A lot of us need you here."

Faith lifted her hands up to the bars and touched both Rogue and Storm's fingers. "Thanks, guys, I won't forget this."

"Vaya con dios," she heard as she went back the other way. As she passed her cell she checked on Rebecca, who was fortunately still asleep. She didn't think Becca would betray her, but she might freak out if she found her best friend gone.

As Faith reached the stairs and headed down, she thought she heard footsteps running across the first floor. She hurried down the steps as fast as she could without making any noise, then went in the direction the noises went. She didn't get far before she found the vampire huddled near one of the doors leading out of the cellblock to the lunchroom, the rec room, and most of the other rooms. She looked up at Faith. "I lost the key," she whispered.

Faith held it up to see, and the vampire nodded, resigned. "I'm not sure why I ran, it just made things more difficult," she went on. "Do you think we could go somewhere and talk?"

"You killed those two women, didn't you?" Faith asked. "You would have killed me. There isn't a whole lot to talk about."

"You want to know why I did it, don't you? You want a confession? Then let's go to the chapel. You can get us there with the key." The vampire slowly got to her feet, shying away from the cross in Faith's other hand.

Faith shook her head. "And I should trust you because?"

"Because my name is Abigail."

She gasped. "The death row inmate? But they sent you to the gas chamber weeks ago!"

Abigail, if that was who she really was, sighed. "I became a full-fledged vampire a few hours before they carried out the sentence, thanks to the not-so-tender mercies of the guard who had it done. _Now_ are you ready to talk?" She tugged at her necklace.

Faith found herself nodding. "You're right, we do need to talk. Just remember, you try anything and I kill you. _After_ I hurt you."

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They avoided detection and finally made it to the chapel, thanks in part to the skeleton key. Faith looked around and saw a mop and bucket that had been left behind. The wooden handle of the mop would do quite nicely, she thought.

Abigail noticed it too. "Yeah, that should kill me just fine," she said. "Can't say I mind."

Faith looked at her closely. In the light she could see her a little better. "You know, don't mind me saying this, but you're really pale. I mean, of course you're a vampire, but you're also black. Were you always this light-skinned?"

Shaking her head, Abigail sat down in one of the pews. "You try spending twenty-four hours a day in pitch darkness, only getting let out to kill someone."

Faith kneeled in the pew in front of Abigail and turned to face her. "So you've had help from the corrections officers."

"Just one," Abigail replied. "She's kept me locked up in one of the old solitary confinement cells."

She should have thought of that, Faith realized. They were perfect hiding places, utterly devoid of light.

Abigail continued. "I'm still not sure how she pulled it off. The day I was executed has become such a blur. Somehow she snuck a vampire inside the prison at night, and I was forced to drink its blood. She told me she was giving me a way out of the gas chamber without anyone knowing."

"When the doctor took your vital signs after you got the gas," Faith said, "he didn't get any. He couldn't know you were a vampire, though."

"She told me not to say a word to anyone, or I'd die anyway. I didn't understand what had happened to me, so I did like she said," Abigail responded. "She put me in one of the unused cells and told me to wait. By the time she came back, I was hungry and very angry. I couldn't kill her, though. Little bitch."

"Why not?" Faith asked.

Abigail pulled at her necklace. "She slapped it on me at some point. It's not a normal necklace, she called it an a'dam. Something from one of those stupid books she's always reading."

Faith thought she knew what she was talking about. Lately she had been hitting the prison library a lot. Most recently she had started _Hard Time_, the newest Sarah Paretsky book. In it a female private detective went undercover into a women's prison to expose the bad guys running it - sure to be a success with any prison population. Before, however, she had read a couple books by some guy named Robert Jordan. In one there were these women who wore necklaces called a'dams, which placed them under the total control of other women who wore matching bracelets.

As she was dredging that little tidbit from her memory banks, Faith was suddenly struck by something. "Wait a minute. You just said she's always reading books. You don't mean Officer _Mayfield_, do you??"

Abigail looked at her, and then gave an 'ah' of comprehension. "You thought I was talking about Officer Roth, didn't you? I guess I can see why, that whore Bryce seduced her years ago."

"The Bryce-Roth connection I figured," Faith said. "But how is Bryce connected to Mayfield?"

She snorted. "You haven't been here long enough. There is no connection, not directly anyway. Eileen Mayfield ordered me to kill those two women because she's connected to _Roth_." Abigail paused. "You know, those two were close personal friends of mine," she said morosely. "I saw how they looked at me when I killed them. There was shock, sure, I was supposed to be dead, but there was betrayal too." After a minute she went on. "She's even involved in black magic, you know. That's how she created this goddamned necklace. Thank God it doesn't work as well as she wanted it to, or otherwise she'd be able to hear what I was thinking. Anyway, a few people who've been here as long as I have know Mayfield has been obsessed with Roth for years. She actually thinks that if she does these things for Bryce, that Roth will pay more attention to her. Sick little twitch."

"It's always the quiet ones," Faith said.

Chapter 3

"So," Faith said in summary, "Mayfield is using you to curry favor with Bryce, and by extension Roth. She keeps you locked up in solitary confinement, feeds you every night, and whenever she hears someone is going to take over the Slayers, she sends you to kill them. She gives you this nifty magical key, but you can't escape because she's given you exact orders through the a'dam and you have to follow them."

"Or attempt to, anyway," Abigail added. "She told me to kill you in your cell, and then notify her. She would have come to your room and slashed your throat. Probably your little friend, too."

Faith felt cold. She cursed herself for not thinking that she was putting Rebecca in danger with her stupid plan. Mayfield was going to get it now. "As soon as Bryce takes over the Slayers, what then?"

Abigail shrugged. "Mayfield treats me with scorn. She probably would have allowed me to starve to death in my padded cell. Not that I deserve royal treatment, you know. I _am_ a vampire."

"Yeah, I've been meaning to ask you about that," Faith said. "You seem pretty, well, _human_. You're not like any vampire I've met, except maybe one."

The vampire turned around in her seat. She pointed towards the back of the chapel. "Death row is that way, you know. I spent eighteen years in this prison, but it wasn't until the last three I spent on death row that I finally began to feel differently about things. I killed my husband because he was cheating on me. Then I clawed my way to the top of a gang and turned the prison into a war zone by fighting with women like Bryce. And I killed a guard because he tried to sexually assault me. He was the last male guard they ever had here, you know.

"While I was in death row, I thought of this movie I saw once in prison called _No Escape_. Did you ever see it?" Faith had to admit that she had not. "Wasn't a big hit, you know, and it wouldn't win any of those Oscars. It spoke to me, though, even if I didn't hear it talking until a few years ago. It was about all these convicts who were so bad that no prison could hold them. They kept killing, they kept escaping, they wouldn't give up. They were put on this jungle island from which they could never escape. And they divided up into two different societies. One of them lived like animals or cannibals, where survival of the fittest reigned. The others built a town with high walls, and they farmed the nearby lands, and they lived like men. They were all career criminals and murderers, but they chose to bring civilization with them. In part this was because of the leadership of one man.

"I realized that was what I wanted the prison to be like. When you got here, you could choose to live like you did on the street, like an animal, and become a Viper. Or, you could try to rehabilitate yourself - a dirty word in most prisons, but it'll do - so that you could live like a woman again when you got out, and join my group. If I had learned that just a few years sooner, maybe things would have been different. As it was, I did what I could from within death row. Along the way I learned to control my baser emotions, so that's what you're seeing now. It's not so much a soul as it is self-control. Now, however, the Vipers might just take over the prison."

Abigail became quiet, but she stared steadily at Faith until she realized what the hidden message was. "Wait a second, Abigail, I'm not a leader! They won't follow me the way they once followed you."

"Then why did you announce you wanted to take over?" Abigail replied. Then she sighed. "I see. It was to trap Roth and Bryce, wasn't it? Only you got Mayfield instead. Maybe I was wrong about you then. Somehow, though, I don't think so. You didn't come after me because you wanted to get Bryce. You have a purpose, don't you? A good one?"

"Don't you see, Abigail?" Faith cried softly, anguished. "I'm a killer! I'm in prison for terrible crimes. I have blood on my hands that will never wash off. Most of the women here are _choirgirls_ compared to me. My guilt is crushing me," she said. "I don't know how much longer I can take it."

Abigail was unperturbed. "So? I killed two men, but did I say I couldn't do it? No! I was the perfect person for the job, because I was one of them, _and_ because I had the most to make up for. I heard from my people about how you protect that junkie cellmate of yours. Isn't this exactly what you need to keep from cutting yourself for real? The chance to do some real good, not just for your friend, but for all the girls who don't have someone to protect them?"

Faith looked at her, her eyes shining. "Do you really think so?" she said with a touch of something foreign to her, hope. "Would they really follow me?"

"I know they will," Abigail said. She stopped suddenly. "Oh shit, look at the time! I should have fetched Mayfield a while ago."

"Then we'd better get back to my cell," Faith replied. She went over to the mop and broke the handle in two. Taking the makeshift weapon, she turned to Abigail. "We'll both go to my cell again. Then I'll give you the key back, and you bring Mayfield to me."

Abigail looked at her strangely. "Faith, honey, aren't you going to kill me? I have to tell you, it would be a favor to me."

Faith smiled. "Unless you're the world's greatest liar, I think I trust you enough to help me get the woman who tried to destroy both of us."

Within a few minutes they were back at Faith's cell. Rebecca slept on, oblivious. Faith opened her door with the key and gave the magical item to Abigail. "I'll see you in a few minutes?" she asked.

"First you gotta cut me," Abigail said.

"What?"

"I have to have an excuse for taking so long," Abigail explained. "If you cut me on my face or arm or something, I'll tell her you put up a real fight."

"Good idea," Faith said. "I'm not the only one using her head here." She took the point of her stake and made a long, jagged cut on Abigail's arm. She winced slightly, but that was all. Then she took the key and disappeared.

Faith slipped back into her cell and lay facedown on the floor, one arm underneath the bed so that the stake was concealed. After five, then ten minutes went by, however, she got nervous. Was Abigail setting her up after all? Maybe that a'dam worked better than she let on. She was about to get up and check when she heard the footsteps. Two sets of them now, one trying to be quiet and almost succeeding.

She remained perfectly still as she heard the cell door open and the two women come in. Faith opened her one eye just a crack and saw that sure enough, Eileen Mayfield was standing over her, fingering a silver bracelet on one wrist. "There's not a whole lot of blood," the mousy psychopath whispered.

"I was thirsty after all that fighting," Abigail replied.

Mayfield raised a steak knife in the air as she gingerly rolled Faith over. As she did so, however, Faith grabbed her by the ankle and yanked with all her strength. Mayfield hit the ground hard and the knife clattered away. Faith grabbed her by the hair and pressed the sharp point of the mop handle against her throat. "I know you want to make Abigail do something with that little gadget of yours, Mayfield, but one move out of her and you die."

"Faith! What are you doing?" Rebecca gasped. Faith realized that noises were coming from other cells too. She swore. Evidently the sound of them fighting had finally woken some people up. "How did she get here?" Rebecca added as she pointed at Abigail.

"Honey, the guards are going to be here any second," Abigail said hurriedly. "You gotta kill me now."

"Oh you'll die all right," Mayfield said hatefully.

"Shut up!" Faith shouted, and she hit Mayfield so hard that her glasses broke and she became unconscious. Now other people began to shout too, and Faith could hear the officers coming.

"Faith . . ." Abigail warned her. "You have to."

"I know," Faith replied sadly. "Like you told me before, I'm sorry." She put the stake at Abigail's heart.

"Yeah, but this time I'll say thank you."

Faith pushed hard, and Abigail disappeared in a cloud of dust. Faith wiped her tears away and looked at Rebecca. "You say exactly what I say, got it?"

"I think I'm dreaming," Rebecca said very quietly, and she lay back down in bed.

When Officer Roth arrived at Faith's cell, she found Faith sitting on her bed, Officer Mayfield unconscious, and a knife on the floor. "Those brown stains on the blade should be human blood, I think," Faith said quietly, "and the only fingerprints on the handle are going to belong to Mayfield. She slit those two women's throats."

Roth gaped at her, but she turned to the guard behind her and said, "Call the police. We're going to need them for this one. And you, Faith, did you hit Mayfield?"

Faith nodded.

Shockingly, Roth smiled. "Normally I wouldn't take the word of a prisoner over that of an officer, but in Mayfield's case I'll make an exception." She looked to see if the other guard was out of earshot yet, then murmured, "I never did trust Mayfield anyway. You might not even get punished for this."

Faith wondered if any of this would attach to Roth or Bryce. Probably not; in all fairness, there wasn't a whole lot they could be blamed for. Except, perhaps, having the bad taste to get involved with each other. At least they should be able to test the blood on the knife and see if the DNA matched with the alleged suicides.

After a couple minutes all the cell doors on that side of the block were opened. Faith carefully walked around Mayfield and the knife and stepped out. Roth carefully searched her before allowing her to go with the others. As Rebecca joined her, Roth pulled out a roll of tape and blocked the entrance to their cell. "You can go back in as soon as the police do the crime scene work," Roth said.

Faith found herself on the first floor again, this time with half the cellblock's population. The other half yelled insults from their cells as the first half enjoyed their little nighttime excursion. Storm and Rogue came over to where Faith and Rebecca were. "Did you get her?" Storm asked quietly.

"It was Abigail," Faith whispered.

Rogue and Storm both looked shocked. "Abigail?" Rogue said in amazement.

"I am really not listening now," Rebecca said.

"Funny you should mention Abigail, Rogue." Deirdre, one of the leaders of the Slayers, came up behind them. With her were two more Slayers, Yolanda and Corinne. Deirdre looked hesitantly at the other two, who looked no more confident. "We all had this very strange dream where Abigail's ghost came to our cells."

Faith managed not to react. Now she knew why Abigail had taken so long to bring Mayfield back.

"Is that right?" Storm said thoughtfully.

"Yeah," Deirdre replied. "What was really funny was that she told us all the same thing, that Faith should be the new leader of the Slayers if she wanted it." She didn't look too happy about it.

Faith didn't know what to say. "Are you going to take advice from a dream?" she finally said.

"It was more than a dream," Corinne said firmly. "It was a vision, and I think we all should listen. Besides, don't you think Abigail could conquer death for a little while if she wanted to?"

Deirdre nodded. "Faith, it's yours if you want it. Most people respect you, and you haven't even been here a year yet. That speaks volumes to me. And we need a leader before Bryce gets any ideas. We've asked you to join before, Faith, but not as leader. But will you?"

Faith looked at Rebecca and the demons, who all nodded subtly. "They join with me," she said.

"Of course," Yolanda said, surprised. "It's your prerogative."

Two officers announced that everyone would be returning to their cells now. Roth came up to Faith and Rebecca and said, "We're going to find a couple long-timers who are willing to give up their single cells for you two, okay?"

"I will," Deirdre said.

"And me," added Corinne.

Roth stared at them. "Well, I guess that was easy," she muttered under her breath. "Faith, you go with Deirdre, and Rebecca, you're with Corinne. You'll have your old cell back by tomorrow night."

"Don't you mean tonight?" Rebecca asked. "It's already 2 A.M."

The others unsuccessfully hid grins as Roth snorted and walked off. "I think you'll do just fine," Corinne said as she took Rebecca by the arm and led her away.

Two minutes later Faith was in Deirdre's cell. "You don't mind?" she asked.

"Are you our new leader?"

"I guess I am."

"Then no, I don't mind," Deirdre said matter-of-factly. She climbed into her bed. "This is big news, you know. A lot of people are going to be happy, and just as many are going to freak. You got any ideas for how to begin?"

As Faith lay down in her temporary bed, she smiled. One idea she had was to write to that Tara girl. Maybe some things could be forgiven after all. "Yeah. Did you ever see a movie called _No Escape_?"

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