Chapter Four

“You’re sure this is the place?” Xander asked as scanned the deserted lot. There wasn’t anything here aside from the dead grass and leaves where once there had been a small, thriving tree farm that specialized in Christmas trees. In fact, there was nothing at all which hinted to the two acre plot’s prior use.

“Careful, Xand,” Buffy warned as she grasped his elbow. The young man startled slightly and trained the beam of his flashlight upon the large hole in the ground.

“Oh…kay,” Xander drawled. “That doesn’t look the least bit forboding, does it?” Carefully, he took a half step back from the edge as the other members of their rescue team crowded close; faces all set with grim determination.

“See anything?” Cordelia inquired as she, too, gazed down at the blackness of the tunnel’s entrance.

“Cave,” was her ex boyfriend’s reply. He shook his head. “Not seeing any movement.”

“I hear something,” Connor whispered close to Cordelia’s ear in hopes that no one else amongst the group had supernatural hearing. She nodded and skimmed her fingers against the back of his hand to let him know she heard him. Her eyes flicked to the Slayer meaningfully and Connor studied the tiny yet powerful female. He had heard his father speak of the female warrior and knew better than to mistake her petite stature as a sign of weakness. If her sister was anything to go by, Buffy Summers was a force to be reckoned with when something tried to hurt those she considered hers.

Currently, the Slayer’s focus was intent upon the entrance to the cave. She appeared to be lost in thought for a moment before she nodded and looked up. “It’s still night. That means we’ve got time to get in there and get Spike. Team One, guard the perimeter. Stay alert. That uber vamp’s most likely still enjoying its self-guided tour. Anything enters this clearing, kill it. Team Two, I’ll take point. One at a time. Fully armed. This is search and rescue. Anything gets in your way, kill it. The First can’t touch us and Spike’s down there with nothing but a bunch of knife-wielding zealots standing between us and our vampire.”

Xander took a breath and handed the flashlight to Willow. “I’ll go first.”

“No,” Connor said simply. He did not know Spike. According to his father, the blond vampire was family. “I’ll go first.”

Xander began to protest, but barely managed to put two words together before the boy disappeared into the inky blackness beneath their feet.

Connor landed in a crouch ten feet blow the surface and gave himself a moment for his eyes to adjust in the darkness. Cordy’s voice floated down to him and Connor quickly scanned his shadowy surroundings. He smirked and gazed back up towards the others. “Dirt. Rocks. Cave. It’s clear,” he replied and held out his arms. “Come on d-”

A strangled scream ripped from Connor’s throat the instant something shiny and metal punched through his side.

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Buffy swore ripely and dropped through the hole as the Bringer slipped from the shadows. Her instincts had kicked in the second she caught a glimpse of moonlight glinting off the blade as it rose for the attack. Connor’s short scream told the Slayer he had been hit. The coppery tang of blood on the air told her all she needed to know. He had come to aide in Spike’s rescue under the power of his own free will. It was a sign of compassion and courage despite his lack of acquaintance with anyone other than Cordy and the rest of the L.A. gang.

Her heavy boots barely impacted with the dirt floor before she launched herself at Connor’s attacker. Without though, she grasped the bald head between her hands and gave it a sharp, vicious twist. The sickening crunch as the neck snapped was her reward as the Bringer’s body fell suddenly slack and the tossed it aside as she dropped to the floor next to the dark haired boy who’d accompanied Cordelia on this trip.

Calling back up to the others, a flashlight was dropped into Buffy’s outstretched hand. “Let me see,” she demanded in a soft, reassuring tone.

Connor’s eyes met those of the Slayer and he considered arguing for about a microsecond. The steely determination he saw etched into her face left no room open for debate. “Just a little scratch,” he pouted as she rolled her eyes and ordered him to hold the light while her hands went to the hem of his shirt.

“You can play Black Knight on your own time, Junior. My house, my rules. You get injured, we patch you up.” Eyes intent upon the site of his injury, Buffy was surprised to see he was right. Whether due to accelerated healing or if it really was as small a wound as he professed, she seemed satisfied that he was not in any immediate danger and was well enough to continue. Their eyes met in silent appraisal and understanding. Then Buffy stood and motioned for the others to join them.

One by one, her designated team made their way to the tunnel floor to join the pair with Xander bringing up the rear. Giles, Anya, Dawn and the potentials remained topside and armed to the teeth in case. Before she had gone down, Anya leaned over to whisper in Willow’s ear.

“Better put on your face.”

“Right,” Willow answered nervously. “My game face.” She knew everyone could tell she was terrified, and not of the thing holding Spike. But, this was the plan she had agreed to. Just a glamour…not real…it isn’t me…just a trick…, the witch inwardly chanted over and over.

When she was ready, the redhead took a couple of deep breaths and cupped her hands over her face; brushed them up and over her head and down the lengths of her hair. As her palms scrubbed across her skin and hair, her face became heavily veined while her eyes turned to pools of gleaming onyx and her fiery tresses grew as dark as a raven’s wing.

The involuntary gasps around her assured her the glamour was in place. “How do I look?”

“Like you’re on your way to a dead man’s party,” Cordy replied with her usual bluntness.

Xander groaned softly. “Now I’m gonna have that song stuck in my head the rest of the night.”

Cordelia rolled her eyes at him. It didn’t escape her notice that the Sunnydale gang refused to look at Willow’s altered appearance, however. She had been informed of the events which had taken place just months ago. She was well aware of Willow’s darker side and the loss of control she had suffered when her girlfriend had been murdered by a stray bullet meant to kill the Slayer.

After all, being a higher being gave new meaning to ‘seeing the big picture’. The only way to overcome the fear was to face the fear head on. No hiding or pretending the things that scared you didn’t exist. Anything else would just get you seriously dead.

With a shy smile which was made unnerving by the black eyes and veins, Willow turned and strode ahead behind the others. “Connor,” Cordelia called softly as she watched the others going ahead. “Don’t follow too closely,” she whispered as she smoothed a hand across his brow. “The guys in the black robes are real. The vampire is real. Be careful.”

Connor nodded and followed the path the others had taken.

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She had been walking for about ten minutes; Slayer senses on full alert to possible attack by the First’s eyeless harbingers. The tunnel had gradually grown wider, the acrid stench of burning torches causing her nostrils to sting and her eyes to water. Elongated shadows danced upon the earthen walls as the tunnel neared its end.

Buffy held up a hand to stall the silent group behind her. To their credit, no one asked why they had stopped. Their reason for being here was too important for them to take any chances. Instead, they all held their position as the Slayer crept forward to scope out their field of engagement.

Buffy gave her eyes a brief moment to adjust to the dim, flickering light before scanning what appeared to be a cavernous room with stalactites stalagmites growing from above and below. Some had created cramped alcoves housing the chanting acolytes. Her nose wrinkled in disgust at the pungent mixture scents from unwashed bodies, stagnant water and blood and Buffy did her best to breath shallowly through her mouth.

A slight bubble of fear settled in her belly at the thought of being so far underground; a niggling edge of claustrophobia causing her heart rate to pick up a tiny bit before she forcefully shoved it aside. She was here to get her vampire and go home. Everything else was trivial.

Renewed determination had the Slayer refocusing on the room she had encountered. She watched the eyeless monks for any sign that they had picked up on her presence. Their droning voices became white noise. She neither knew nor cared what language they used. Nothing mattered but getting to Spike and getting everyone out in one piece.

Further across the room, past the minions, the room grew wider. Buffy reached out with that connection she shared with the Aurelian vampire. She knew, without a doubt, that he was there. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t see him with her eyes. It didn’t matter that there were at least a dozen bad guys between here and there. It didn’t matter that they would try to stop her. She wasn’t leaving without her vampire.

Having seen enough, Buffy turned and retraced her steps back to where the others awaited in the shadows. She kept her voice barely above a whisper as she outlined the results of her study. Her eyes met Willow’s and the two spoke directly into each other’s mind via the telepathic link the Scoobies shared. The black-eyed witch nodded curtly and moved past the group to carry out her part of the mission. The First could not touch her physically. The others could deal with the evil monks. Her job was to reach Spike and set up a protective barrier to shield him from further injury..

Find him, Willow certainly did. She found him tethered to a large boulder just out of sight. Bruises marred his normally handsome face; his eyes swollen and so purple they were almost black. There were marks- gashes and slashes- covering the marble perfection of his torso and continuing into the waistband of filthy black denims. Her stomach rolled. She really did not want to know how far down the damage went. Evidence of continuous torture during his captivity was obvious on nearly every visible inch of his emaciated form. Healing would require a steady supply of blood and several weeks or rest. But, as long as he was not dust, he would heal.

Willow crouched down to see how badly his feet had been damaged in hopes that he would be capable of walking out of here. It would be a pain in the ass and an enormous blow to the vampire’s already diminished pride if Spike had to be carried from his place of torment.

To her surprise, it looked as though Spike’s feet were the only body parts which appeared to have been left untouched. “Pretty clever,” she said as she stood up and focused her attention back on Spike’s fearful eyes. “Using the Slayer’s pet demon to free your own.” The witch turned her cold, black stare on the sadistically smiling parody of her best friend. “Kudos.”

“What can I say,” the First shrugged. “I like the way he looks without a shirt.” Buffy/the First shivered with delight. “And the way he screamed for me…”

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