The Seventh SlayerBy Kantayra
Chapter TwentyAjaya didn’t arrive back at the small house in Devonshire until nearly midnight. She’d felt extraordinarily guilty about breaking in on Lily and had made up for it by helping Willow and Aida formulate the medicine that would cure her. Their idea was actually a rather clever one, blending science and magic just enough that the curse of the Magic Drinker wouldn’t counteract its healing properties. Unfortunately, they were working against a ticking clock.
Dawn had quickly transported Ajaya over and then went back home, so Ajaya was left to enter the darkened house by herself.
The lights were out by then, and the stillness of the night was eerily quiet.
Buffy and Spike lay together in the common room, limbs so intertwined that Ajaya had a bit of difficulty telling where one ended and the other began.
There had been quite a bit of a squabble before she’d left as to the two vampires’ sleeping arrangements. Alex had finally caved in and let them be together just so long as they didn’t do anything inappropriate. From the fact that both vampires were fully clothed, Ajaya guessed that they were sticking to their end of the deal.
She moved quietly past them, not wanting to wake the sleeping pair. She slipped into the ‘women’s dorm’ to find the sleeping bags scattered across the floor occupied by a wide variety of creatures, although all of the female persuasion.
Her own bag was empty and right next to where Isabelle was snoring softly in her sleep. She switched quickly into the set of nightclothes from her small duffel bag and climbed into her sleeping bag.
She studied Isabelle’s face for a brief minute, wondering if she should wake the other Slayer up and tell her she was back. This desire increased when she noticed that one other bag in the room was vacant. She mentally did a headcount and quickly figured out who was missing. She frowned for a second and turned back to the other Slayer.
However, Isabelle’s eyes were flitting about rapidly behind her closed lids, and Ajaya decided not to wake her friend’s dreams…especially since they might be prophetic.
As she slowly fell asleep, she had no idea just how right she was…
* * *
Isabelle was instantly on her guard as the white light around her faded and she found herself back at SCBI headquarters back during the Watcher’s attack. She was dimly aware of the explosions that went on around her as she wound her way through the hallways, but something distracted her from the chaos around her…
There was something she was supposed to remember…
She opened the door to the Witches’ Temple – the one that had been destroyed in the attack – and found that all the sounds of the attack dissipated the instant she walked inside.
She shut the door behind her and took a step towards the large pentagram that was engraved on the black marble floor.
Nervously, she looked around, half-expecting someone to catch her here where she didn’t belong, but the room was completely empty except for her and the symbol.
She took another step.
Just as her foot passed the perimeter of the mark, it happened. She shrieked uselessly when something grabbed her from behind, catching her around the throat. She beat against it with all her strength, but she suddenly felt all her Slayer strength seep out of her. She was helpless against her attacker.
It spun her around, and she saw that it was the same animated SCBI uniform from her previous dream – the traitor. It lifted her off the ground so that her head was level with the dark shadow of where its head should be.
She increased her struggles, somehow instinctively knowing what peril awaited her.
“You are unworthy,” it informed her in a low, hissing voice. “Another will be Called in your place…”
She tried to scream out “no!” but the grip on her throat tightened, and she suddenly found herself choking to death. She kicked frantically at it, but she couldn’t fight against its strength. Slowly, the life slipped out of her…
And then, before her eyes, the end of a stake emerged through the front of the uniform’s chest.
It screamed aloud before vanishing in a shower of dust, and Isabelle fell and fell and fell…
And suddenly was caught. She looked up wearily into the eyes of the person who had staked the traitor for her. Brown eyes. Deep, brown eyes. Deep, brown eyes that she had just noticed this afternoon had a particular soulful look to them…
“You’re safe now,” Alex whispered softly, still cradling her in his arms.
“You killed it,” she informed him numbly.
“Only for you,” he agreed softly.
And then she held her breath as he lowered her lips to hers, and suddenly the prophetic aspects of the dream faded away, and it was just the two of them, alone together…
* * *
“Isabelle!”
“Mmf!” Isabelle clutched her pillow tighter to her as she buried her face in it.
“Isabelle!” Her pillow was snatched roughly from her.
“Huh? What?” Isabelle’s groggy head shot up.
“Jeez,” Ajaya rolled her eyes, “it’s noon already!”
“Time zones,” Isabelle said matter-of-factly before snatching the pillow back up from the other Slayer and wrapping her body around it once more.
“And you wonder why we never got anywhere with our investigation…” Ajaya shook her head.
“You’re not still on about that?” Isabelle groaned in protest.
“Excuse me for worrying about the fact that someone’s trying to kill us all!” Ajaya retorted. “Now, get your lazy ass out of bed!”
“Don’t you have anyone else to bother?” Isabelle complained as she finally extricated herself from the warm tangle of blankets and sleeping bag.
“Nope,” Ajaya said with a smug smile. “Well, actually…yeah, but I need your help bothering them.”
Isabelle groaned. “Aren’t you supposed to be spying on the Witches?” she pointed out, slipping on her freshly-cleaned uniform.
Ajaya’s brow furrowed for a second. “They’re not responsible,” she finally said softly.
“Yeah?” Isabelle said curiously. “How do you know?”
Ajaya bit her lip and shook her head. “I just do,” she replied vaguely.
Isabelle frowned. “You must have some reason,” she insisted. “I mean, just yesterday you were concocting elaborate schemes just to keep an eye on them.”
“I can’t talk about it!” Ajaya exclaimed in exasperation. “I just know that they didn’t do it.”
Isabelle gave her a cold, appraising look and tied the last of her boots.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Ajaya said apologetically. “What about Alex?” she tried to change the subject. “What’d you find out about him?”
“He didn’t do it,” Isabelle said calmly.
“What?” Ajaya looked up at her in surprise. “He was one of my prime suspects…”
“He didn’t do it,” Isabelle retorted, “and I can’t tell you why.”
“Isabelle, don’t be like this!” Ajaya’s cheeks flushed slightly with annoyance.
“Why not?” Isabelle demanded. “You started it.”
“I’m sworn to secrecy!” Ajaya protested.
“Oh yeah? Well, maybe I am too,” Isabelle countered.
“Fine, then,” Ajaya said wearily. “Let’s assume we’re both right then. The Witches and Alex are both in the clear.”
“Fine.” Isabelle crossed her arms in front of her, still glaring at the other Slayer.
“I really don’t think it was Fletcher or Spike and Buffy,” Ajaya went on.
“Neither do I,” Isabelle said disinterestedly.
“That leaves only Monica, Nicky, and Xeris then,” Ajaya concluded. “We should focus on them – especially Monica. She was gone last night when I came back.”
“Fine,” Isabelle shrugged, “I’ll watch her today. You take the others.” She proceeded to stalk out of the room.
“Isabelle?” Ajaya halted her just as she reached the door.
Isabelle froze in her tracks.
“I’m really sorry,” Ajaya said sadly.
Isabelle debated stomping right out the door, but somehow she just couldn’t stay mad at the other Slayer. “I had another dream,” she finally said softly. “Alex is going to help me defeat the traitor. That’s how I know he’s innocent.”
Ajaya nodded and gave Isabelle a wan smile. “Thank you, Slayer visions,” she joked lightly.
“Yeah,” Isabelle agreed before she went out to track down Monica…
* * *
Ajaya thankfully found Nicolas and Xeris in the same place because she really had no idea how else she would be able to keep an eye on both of them at the same time.
“I hate the Watchers,” Buffy was scowling, perched in Spike’s lap as they sat back on the couch in the common room.
“Odd that only the Mages should escape,” Nicolas agreed. “Pretty creepy, if you ask me. Makes it seem like they’re up to something no good – of the magical variety.”
“What’s this?” Ajaya asked curiously, taking the vacant seat on the far end of the couch from Buffy and Spike.
“Twerp found the pattern in all the Watchers that escaped,” Spike explained to her. “Seems all the magical gurus got away.”
Ajaya frowned. “Do we know why?”
“Nothing of the good,” Buffy grimaced. “I just hope we don’t all wake up tomorrow transformed into cockroaches or something…”
Ajaya gulped, and her eyes widened. “That could happen?” she asked nervously.
“Not while our Witches are looking out for us,” Nicolas assured her.
“Plus, transformin’ people into cockroaches ‘s harder than it sounds,” Spike added.
Buffy gave him an odd look. “Do I even want to know?” she asked warily.
“You were there,” he insisted. “That business with the Char’oth Demon an’ Red’s magic goin’ all wonky, an’ then Anyanka tryin’ to uncurse us all…”
“Oh, yeah,” she bit her lower lip at the memory. “Not cockroaches then,” she agreed, “but rats! Could definitely try to turn us into rats. Or, ooh! They could make us get engaged again!”
“We’re already married, luv,” he reminded her.
Her eyes widened in horror. “They could make us get divorced then!”
“Slayer,” he rolled his eyes, “you’re annoyin’ me on purpose, an’ I can’t do anythin’ ‘bout on account of all the onlookers.”
She gave him a wicked smile. “Just my revenge for that stupid stunt you pulled back at Watcher’s HQ.”
“My stupid stunt!” he exclaimed. “You went in first! I was just followin’ after you!”
“And I did just fine on my own, thank you very much!”
Ajaya coughed.
“Er…Ajaya and I did just fine on our own!” she quickly amended. “We weren’t the ones that ended up trapped in a mud puddle with bullets whizzing by our heads!”
“Tha’s ‘cause you had an entire squad of back-up!” Spike countered. “If you’d such stop bein’ such a stuck-up—”
“I am not stuck-up! You—”
Ajaya yawned and ignored the ever-escalating argument between the pair of vampires. It seemed to be their substitute for more, er…physical contact whenever others were around, and she was frighteningly used to it by now.
Xeris and Nicolas looked equally unperturbed by the two and continued discussing the implications of Fletcher’s findings. It quickly became a conversation about the more technical aspects of magic and curses, all of which Xeris was happy to describe in excruciating detail whenever she asked.
She quickly learned not to ask. She felt herself fighting off sleep as the conversation went on and on and decided that undercover work was the most boring thing on the planet…
* * *
Undercover work was the most exciting thing on the planet.
Isabelle had found Monica and Alex on the back lawn, using an open patch of grass as an impromptu sparring mat. She’d watched the two of them knock each other around a bit before they’d finally taken a break and noticed their audience.
“Let me guess,” Isabelle teased, “Alex’ superpower is his ability to fall flat on his ass every time.”
Monica laughed, and Alex scowled at her.
“You wouldn’t last five minutes against me, little girl,” he taunted her.
“ ‘Little’?” she said in disbelief. “I’m almost as tall as you are!”
“ ‘Almost’ being the operative word in that sentence,” he retorted. “Besides, how tall are you anyway? Six feet? Freaks don’t get to make judgements about other people.”
“ ‘Freaks’?!”
No force on earth was powerful enough to stop their sparring match after that. Isabelle quickly found out that his Vengeance Demon ancestry gave Alex a bit more than a grumpy personality and twice as many birthdays. She was surprised at first by his strength and speed but adjusted rapidly, moving to block blow after blow.
Actually, they were fairly evenly matched, and by the time Monica called for them to halt for a break, neither had gotten in any decisive hits.
Alex was breathing heavily and trying desperately to look like he wasn’t. “Not bad…for a beginner,” he commented wryly, taking a long gulp out of his water bottle.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Isabelle intentionally waited a few seconds before taking a sip of her own water – just to show that she wasn’t really that tired, “did you want me to stop going easy on you? I just thought I’d do you the courtesy because of your old age and all…”
“Could take you down any day,” he countered, “when you’re done resting, of course.”
“Me?” Isabelle retorted. “I was just waiting for you to catch your breath some more…”
Another rapid exchange of blows followed, and the pair broke apart, carefully assessing their opponent’s next move.
“He always leaves his right flank open,” Monica called out helpfully to Isabelle.
Alex flashed Monica a gesture inappropriate in polite company while simultaneously dodging Isabelle’s punch.
Fortunately, Monica’s little comment had him over-guarded his right flank, and Isabelle managed to take out his vulnerable left ankle.
As he fell to the ground, however, his wrist caught her own heel, and she fell down with him with a yelp. Before she’d even managed to register the hit, she was flat on her back, Alex straddling her waist and pinning her arms with his.
“Gotcha!” he said in delight.
Isabelle gulped. She was uncomfortably aware of every single point where their two bodies met, and it unfortunately occurred to her that his lips were actually not too far above hers. She felt her body respond to his nearness and blushed a deep red.
Alex was still chuckling in victory, but then he noticed her reaction and frowned for a second, trying to puzzle it out. His eyes widened in sudden realization, and Isabelle didn’t think she’d ever seen a man look that scared before.
For one split second, she could have sworn his eyes darted down to her lips, but then he leapt back almost as if he’d been burned.
Isabelle’s mind was still too fogged to really grasp what desperate excuse he’d come up with to flee, and by the time she had the presence of mind to sit back up, he was gone.
And so was Monica.
Isabelle swore at how she’s allowed herself to shirk her duties. After all, while Alex did have a tall, lean, muscular body and fine, nicely-sculpted features obviously inherited from his mother while simultaneously receiving his father’s dark, tanned coloring, not to mention those lickable little dimples in his cheeks whenever he smiled, and… What was she thinking? Oh yeah, it’s not like Alex was distracting enough that she should have lost track of Monica.
Yeah, right, her inner voice rolled its eyes.
However, now she was presented with a pretty problem: awkward conversation with Alex to try to reestablish the recent, tenuous friendship, or hunt a were-jaguar around the English countryside.
It really was no contest.
She extended her senses and took off in a bit of a run to where they guessed Monica would be. She caught sight of a spotted cat’s tail rounding one of the garden sheds out back just as the rain that had been threatening to fall all day began.
Isabelle approached the dirty window of the little shed and looked in at its occupants through a small smudge in the dirt there. She gasped at what she saw and quickly ran back to find Ajaya…
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