The Seventh SlayerBy Kantayra
Chapter ThreeIsabelle awoke with the mother of all headaches on a park bench in the clearing she’d fought in the night before. What awoke her was a hard shove in the shoulder.
“C’mon, Miss, get up,” the police officer nudged her.
She groaned and managed to sit up.
“You all right?” he asked, noticing that she was a bit more out of it than he’d first guessed.
“Fine,” she said, struggling not to appear too dizzy when she got up. “Just…a little tired on my lunch break,” she said, quickly assessing the time of day and using it to her advantage.
“You’d best just get back to work then,” the officer gave her a friendly smile. “Wouldn’t want to be late.”
“No,” Isabelle flashed a broad smile in response, “and thank you for waking me.”
“No problem at all, ma’am,” he waved to her.
She walked calmly from the park until she was out of his sight before breaking into a run. Her Watcher’s car was, of course, gone. Fortunately, it was only a little over a mile’s walk to his apartment. She made the run in less than five minutes.
“Isabelle!” he exclaimed in amazement after finally answering her frantic pounding. “What happened? Where have you been?”
“A vamp kidnapped me,” she said breathlessly as she was ushered into the posh apartment. “He had me locked up somewhere. An old castle, I think.”
“Are you all right?” Mr. West went into the kitchen to start brewing some tea. “They didn’t…?”
“No,” Isabelle shook her head. “I wasn’t bitten.”
“How ever did you escape?” he demanded.
“He just let me go,” Isabelle shrugged. “It was really weird. This vamp – he wasn’t like anything I’ve encountered before. He was strong, unbeatable. And he didn’t want to kill me.”
“What did he look like?” her Watcher demanded.
“Average height, slim build, brown hair, gorgeous blue eyes…” she rattled off.
Mr. West gave her a disapproving glare down his glasses at her last statement. “Accent?”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “I think he spoke English. I couldn’t place his accent, though.”
“British?”
“I don’t think so,” her brow furrowed for a minute. “He didn’t sound like you. My guess is maybe Australian?”
“You sure it wasn’t British?” West persisted. “Maybe lower class British?”
“It could have been,” she shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Did he have a scar?” her Watcher abruptly switched his line of questioning. “On the left eyebrow?”
“No,” Isabelle shook her head firmly. “Definitely no scar.”
He seemed to relax a bit at this. “And you didn’t get a name?”
“He didn’t say,” she shook her head.
“And what exactly did he say?” Mr. West asked.
“Er…” Isabelle paused for a moment, thinking for the first time about her kidnapper’s final warning. “He basically just ranted a bit,” she finally settled, “talked all about souled vamps and how the Watcher’s Council doesn’t cut them any slack.”
“He had a soul then?” her Watcher sighed.
“I guess,” Isabelle shrugged. “I mean, he was cool and all. He didn’t try to attack me or anything once he’d caught me.”
West set the tea down in front of her with a small smile. “It was probably nothing then. Just another of those bothersome souled vampires trying to get a sympathetic ear for their sob stories.”
“Yeah,” she smiled nervously, hoping that the little lie she’d just told wasn’t written all over her face. “I kind of figured that, too.”
“Did the rival factions show?” West turned to more important matters…from his perspective, at least.
“Mmm-hmm,” she nodded vigorously. “Dusted four Aurelians and four Dareians.”
“Quite satisfactory,” West nodded slightly. “I believe you are ready for your first real test tonight.”
“Uh…wait a minute,” Isabelle broke in. “Wasn’t last night my ‘first test’?”
“Just preparation,” he assured her. “Tonight we go for a nest.”
“By ‘we’, I assume you mean ‘me’,” she made a frowny face when she tasted the foul tea in her cup.
“Yes,” he agreed, “which means you should get some sleep. I’m going out to run errands, and when I get back I expect you’ll be ready to train.”
“Yeah, sure,” she yawned and lay back on the couch, closing her eyes.
She listened while he fussed about the apartment for his keys and wallet. Only once he had shut the door behind him and she heard the key turn in the lock, did she open her eyes. She sat up, waiting for a minute or so before she scrambled over to the computer at the desk in the corner.
She fiddled through her pockets, finally finding the scrap of paper her captor had promised her. She typed the number into the special tracking system the Watcher’s Council provided all its members with. The computer paused a minute, processing her request, and then a message appeared on the screen:
“NUMBER RESTRICTED. WORLD GOVERNMENT, DIVISION SCBI. SOURCE LOCATION: UNTRACEABLE.”
Isabelle stared at the screen thoughtfully for a few minutes before erasing her request from the computer’s memory. She plopped back down on the couch and considered her options.
It seemed the vamp she had talked to was legit. She didn’t know much about SCBI – no one did, in truth – but she did know that the government sometimes hired them to deal with dangerous demonic situations.
If anything, it made her even more confused than before…
* * *
Ajaya watched in amusement as her two vampire companions disembarked from the plane in front of her, their fingers still firmly intertwined. The two had been linked together all throughout the flight while they had told her stories of Slayers and demons and magical forces.
She was surprisingly discovering that they were actually quite personable. She’d seen news reports on vampires that had the misfortune to become ensouled. Mostly, they described the torment and anguish such beings had to endure. The picture was nothing like that Buffy and Nicolas portrayed. The two laughed and chided each other and reminisced about experiences they’d shared decades ago.
In short, they were fun travelling companions, and they’d arrived in New York before she knew what was happening.
She smiled wryly as they passed a new monitor describing a vampire attack in Bombay. The newscaster informed viewers that there had been one casualty and one patient in critical condition before rogue demon hunters had taken care of the matter. Of course, she was the patient ‘in critical condition’. Nicolas had arranged the false story to get her out of school while they made their trip.
It was all very exciting. Flying off to a country she’d never visited before, lying to her teachers, secret cover stories, and tales of averted apocalypses… Ajaya quickly decided that this part of the demon hunter’s life was a hell of a lot more fun than what she’d experienced last night.
They were in a black hovercar now, being chauffeured to what Buffy jokingly called the ‘Old Library’. Ajaya stared out the window as the countryside whizzed by, old stately mansions lining the road. After a while, the houses grew scarcer and scarcer as they moved into less populated areas of upstate New York. Buffy had fallen asleep on Nicolas’ shoulder, their hands still linked together, and soon he joined the vampiress in sleep.
Ajaya took the opportunity to pester the driver – a middle-aged native New Yorker – all about everything she’d seen since she arrived in the US. He told her a bit about the area – mostly of the native rituals and witch covens that had lived here in the past. Ajaya had finally asked why his knew such odd things, and he laughingly admitted to having worked under the employ of the demon hunters for over twenty-five years.
“And here we are,” he said at last, slowing the car down to a halt outside a massive antique-looking iron gate. “SCBI Central…in the US, that is.” A pair of scanners rose from the ground on either side of the vehicle, and a red detector beam passed from the front bumper of the car to the back.
“SCAN COMPLETE,” a message flashed on the front dashboard. “SIMON DENTON, ELIZABETH SUMMERS, NICOLAS TRENT APPROVED. IDENTIFY ADDITIONAL PASSENGER.”
“Say your name, sweetie,” the driver – Simon, she concluded – gestured to the microphone on the dash.
“Ajaya Gupta,” she said nervously.
“Slayer and new recruit,” Simon added.
“ACCESS GRANTED,” the computer message beeped off and slowly the gates opened.
Ajaya’s eyes widened in amazement at the mansion that rose up before them. It was obviously very old, polished wood and colonnades outlining the Victorian structure.
“It’s beautiful,” she said in awe.
“Yup,” Buffy said, yawning lazily as she awoke from her nap. “That was pretty much my first impression, too.”
The car pulled to a stop before the elaborately carved front doors, and the two vampires and the Slayer stepped out into the afternoon sunlight. The doors opened from the inside in anticipation of their arrival, and they were quickly ushered inside before the doors were quickly slammed shut.
“Daylight,” Buffy explained at Ajaya’s puzzled look. “The vamps in here don’t want to get dusty.”
“Then, how did you—?” Ajaya began.
“Trade secret,” Nicolas winked at her. “Can’t give everything away so soon…”
“Well?” an old woman stood in the entryway, tapping her foot impatiently. “Isn’t anyone going to say hello?”
“Will!” Buffy cried out, catching the woman up in her embrace. “It’s been forever!”
“Yes, it has,” the woman’s pout was now quite obviously fake to Ajaya. “That vampire stud of yours been keeping you too busy to visit your oldest and best friend?”
“Will!” this time Buffy’s tone was decidedly embarrassed. “You dirty dog!”
“You bet,” the old woman flashed her a wide grin, with straight, white teeth. “And who have we here?” she turned to Ajaya.
“Will, this is Ajaya Gupta, the new Slayer…or one of them, at least,” Buffy said. “Ajaya, this is Willow Rosenberg. She’s the high priestess of our local Wiccan coven.”
“Among other things,” Willow grinned and shook Ajaya’s hand. The young Indian woman was surprised how strong this apparently ancient woman’s grip was. “So, you’re new to this, huh? Pretty freaky stuff.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Ajaya smiled, instantly put at ease by the calm and friendly aura that surrounded the Witch.
“Ah, I remember my first vamp encounter all too well,” Willow giggled slightly. The gesture seemed both unusual and oddly appropriate for the old woman. “I got kidnapped, and they tried to sacrifice me for the Harvest. Buffy here stopped them, though,” she put an arm around the blond vampiress. “So,” she gave Ajaya a sly smile, “met any hot vamps yet? Other than Nicky here, that is…”
“Will!” Buffy gave her a good-natured shove, and Ajaya’s face turned bright red.
“What? Isn’t that one of the perks of the job?” Willow joked.
“Maybe,” Buffy conceded, “but knock it off. You’re scaring off Ajaya.”
“No, I’m OK,” Ajaya insisted, holding her hand in front of her mouth to stifle her giggles. She had to admit, if other vampires were as attractive as Nicolas, she might easily find herself as tempted as Buffy…
“See?” Willow said. “She’s got a sense of humor. A Slayer needs that. Oh! Can you quip?”
“Quip?” Ajaya looked at her confusedly.
“Ignore the crazy old woman,” Buffy led her down the hallway. “She’s just being her normal Willow-y self.”
“The only way I know how to be,” the old Witch agreed.
“Ajaya needs the tour now, so we’ll see you later, Will,” Buffy continued on her way with Ajaya behind her.
“Good-bye, Ms. Rosenberg,” Ajaya waved.
“It’s Will,” Willow insisted before turning to talk to Nicolas.
“She’s very nice,” Ajaya commented as they made their way down the hallway.
“Yeah,” Buffy looked back over her shoulder. “She’s been my best friend since high school.”
“You are that old?” Ajaya said in surprise.
Buffy laughed. “One of the benefits of being a vampire,” she replied, “eternal youth. I’m seventy-seven, total. Fifty-one as a vampire.”
“Then you’re eternally twenty-six,” Ajaya calculated.
“Oh, a math whiz…although I suppose I already knew that from all those equations you were fiddling with on the plane,” Buffy added. “But, yup. Twenty-six plus five days. Did it that way on purpose.”
“On purpose?” Ajaya asked.
“To be the same age as my mate,” Buffy clarified as they entered a large hall.
“Woah.” Ajaya looked up at the massive ceiling.
“Impressive, no?” Buffy smiled at her reaction.
“What have we here?” a woman of about thirty stood up from her seat on the couch. “Do mine eyes detect another Slayer among us?”
“Thine eyes do indeed,” Buffy gave an embarrassed Ajaya a shove into the center of the group of people seated in the ballroom. “Everyone, this is Ajaya Gupta. Ajaya, this is Lily Rosenberg-Doogan – Willow’s daughter,” she gestured to the standing brunette, “Richard Rowan,” she indicated a young Hispanic-looking man, “David Salvatore,” this man looked very much related to Richard, “they’re both grand-nephews of mine,” Buffy added, “Melissa Harris,” she went on to a petite blond woman, “Julia Stevenson,” she indicated a pretty young red-head, “and…” she paused when her gaze rested on a midnight-blue demon with ram’s horns and white stripes running down its face, “and…I have no idea, but meet him anyway,” she finished lamely.
“Sorry!” one of the black-haired men – Ajaya had already forgotten which – slapped his forehead. “Xeris, this is Buffy; Buffy, Xeris. He’s one of the Velik demons we rescued last month, and he’s decided to stay on with us.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” Buffy shook his taloned hand.
Ajaya settled for a nervous smile and a wave.
“So, everyone,” Buffy said, noticing Ajaya’s sudden nervousness, “now you’ve met Ajaya. We have to continue on the tour now.”
“Bye,” Ajaya’s face was bright red, and she slowly backed away.
“We’ll see you later,” one of the two Hispanic men flashed her a wide grin.
“Yeah, at dinner,” the other gave her an identical smile.
“OK,” Ajaya agreed and practically ran from the room.
“A bit shy, are we?” Buffy gave her a sympathetic smile.
“I’m not really very good with large groups of people,” Ajaya ducked her head.
“Don’t worry about,” Buffy gave her shoulder a slight squeeze. “We’re all family here, anyway.”
“I’ve already forgotten everyone’s names,” Ajaya confessed. “And most of their faces…except for that horned thing…”
Buffy’s brows drew together. “It’s OK,” she insisted. “I’ve forgotten the horned thing’s name, too.”
Ajaya laughed at the vampiress’ distraught expression. “Just so long as there’s not a test later.”
“There shouldn’t be,” Buffy assured her, “unless Fletcher’s gotten even more anal since I was here last…”
“Fletcher?”
“Head honcho. Ex-Watcher son of an Ex-Watcher. Stuffy Brit,” Buffy explained. “He’s probably sitting in his office right now, hands folded on his desk, all the other Watchers he could find flanking him… He’ll have his glasses perched right at the end of his nose so he can stare down over them at you. And he’ll insist that you call him ‘Mr. Price’, but just call him ‘Fletcher’. He hates that.”
Ajaya laughed at Buffy’s description…
* * *
With a hard kick, Isabelle knocked the door off its hinges.
The five figures nearest to the door went scrambling as the sunlight streamed in, smoke hissing from their skin as they did so.
Isabelle quickly trained her crossbow on the next closest two, dusting them in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, that meant that she was now inside their lair, far from the protection of the sun’s rays.
Four vampires jumped her all at once, and she went down hard. She managed to kick off the two vamps that held her legs, and her foot collided with the female on top of her right before the vampiress had a chance to sink her fangs into Isabelle’s throat.
Isabelle rolled free of the remaining vamp’s grasp and slipped a stake from her sleeve. She caught the female squarely in the back while dodging the blow of another.
It was at about this point that Isabelle started to panic. There were at least twenty vamps left in the place, and the only weapons she had left were this stake and two others still hidden on her person.
She had just assessed her odds as hopeless when he joined the fray.
The vampire that had so recently held her hostage leapt from the roof beams to her side just as the nest of vamps decided to rush her again. Isabelle intuitively knew that he wasn’t there to fight her and turned her attention instead to the three minions in front of her.
Number One went down with a quick kick to the gut. Number Two impaled himself accidentally upon her upraised stake. Three was more skilled, and Isabelle exchanged a series of blows with the redheaded vamp before finally staking him.
Of course, by this time Number One was on her feet again, and Four, Five, Six, and Seven had decided to join the party.
Isabelle struggled as best she could with such overwhelming odds. She managed to get Six before the others finally took her down.
However, before Four’s fangs could pierce her throat, he was lifted from her body by Isabelle’s unlikely ally. The brown-haired vamp threw her attacker across the room to where the patch of sunlight at the door still leaked in. The minion screamed when the light hit him and instantly burst into flames.
Meanwhile, the brown-haired vamp finished the rest of the minions that held Isabelle with ruthless efficiency.
She scrambled to her feet and looked around to find that no more vampires were left. There was only a thick layer of dust surrounding where her companion had been fighting.
“You all right, Lioness?” he asked, lighting up a cigarette.
She nodded dazedly. “Thank you,” she said soberly. “I couldn’t have taken them without you.”
“That’s the thing about this work,” he said, leading the way to the door. “You want to live, you’ve got to learn to work with others.”
“ ‘The Slayer works alone’,” Isabelle quoted.
“Not necessarily,” he took another drag from his cigarette.
“You are with the SCBI,” Isabelle decided to play her trump card.
“Very good,” he stopped at the edge of the patch of sunlight by the door. “You checked on the number I gave you.”
“I did,” she agreed.
“Did you check on the information I gave you about the other Slayers?” he asked.
Isabelle’s brow furrow. “Not yet,” she admitted.
“I’d do that if I were you,” he flicked his cigarette to the ground and put it out with the toe of his boot. “You can never have too much information.”
And with that, he stepped out into the daylight.
Isabelle gasped in horror. And then in surprise when he didn’t combust. “H-How—?” she managed to stammer.
“An old trade secret, Lioness,” he gave her a lop-sided smirk. “Think about what I said,” he added before blending into the crowd and vanishing with an uncanny grace…
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