Chapter 24 - Nothing On the Telly

You hear about something feeling like you're coming home. Well, it wasn't like that. It wasn't like anything. Because I'd never really been home before.

You know how memories are often things you see complete with rose-coloured hue? If you believe them, then the past was always brighter, happier, more special than the present could possibly be. My memories of Spike were mixed at best. Towards the end, they were pretty positive, but, other than sleeping fully-clothed in his arms, they were just about friendship, companionship, even love, but in a platonic sense. The earlier memories, the sex, they were all about explosions and fireworks and the most amazing physical sensations. But all of that was tempered by the guilt and the need I felt to hide our relationship. And that's ignoring the way I treated him then.

Being with him again is coming home - all the physical sensation with none of the guilt. There's this absolute knowledge that I belong with this man, and that my life is empty without him. I knew it before, but now I've got the proof. Even Spike was more like I remembered. Less of the thinking things through, more of the just doing. It's as if, once the fuse was lit, there was nothing either of us could have done. Not that I even considered changing anything. Lying in a contented heap afterwards, I know that I'll do anything to keep what I've got.

"You ok, Pet?" he asks, gently stroking my face with a finger. We didn't need words before, both of us knowing exactly what was needed.

"Ok doesn't seem adequate, but yeah, I'm good."

"No regrets?"

Oh, here it comes.

"No. None. You?"

"Not regrets as such. More like I feel I've jumped off a cliff and I'm still waiting to hit the ground."

I can see the remnant of fear on his face, and I want to wipe it away. It still hurts that he could feel so afraid that I would hurt him, but I understand why he feels that way.

"I'm not going to let you down this time, Spike. You believe me, don't you? I love you, and I'll tell anyone who's interested, and probably bore people who're not."

He burrows his head into my neck then, and I feel his breathing hitch. He looks up again a few seconds later.

"And if it doesn't work out, what then?"

"Then we'll deal with it. But I love you, and I think you love me, and …"

"You know I do, Pet. I said it once, everything's still all about you. Hasn't changed."

"Ok, I love you, you love me. We've got as good a chance as anyone of making this work. The rest is up to us."

He nods then, but I can feel his heart beating in his chest, and I know he's more scared of this than he is of almost anything. Probably as scared as I am.

We doze them, and the next thing I'm aware of is that I can hear footsteps outside our room. I remember with relief that I locked it when we came in. Funny that, we went from being locked in here to locking the door for ourselves in just a few hours.

My movement seems to have wakened Spike, or maybe he was already awake, because he's stirring too.

"Time to make a move?" he asks.

"I suppose," I answer, stretching and enjoying the feel of slightly achy muscles. "We've got work to do."

We dress quickly, then go downstairs. Lucy is back again, and busy in the kitchen. I've got to say that I never imagined the head of a government rattling her own pots and pans.

"Oh, there you are," she greets us as we go in. And, you know, it feels kind of like being caught by my mom. It's as if she knows exactly what we've been doing. "Dinner'll be in about half an hour. I'm free after that, if you want some more answers."

"Thanks," I answer. "We do still have questions."

"Fine. Why don't you go and sit down in the living room. There's a TV there. No live broadcast, it can't get through to the enclave, but there're recordings which are pretty up to date, and some films too."

"Is that why my cell phone hasn't got a signal?"

"Yes. The signal just bounces off the enclave."

Spike grunts and leaves the room.

"Not being able to use my cell could be a problem. If we're out of touch for a while, our friends might try looking for us."

"They won't find you."

"They know where we were headed," I remind her.

"There were no records of your being there."

"I can't see Wes just accepting that."

"My boys run that hotel, which is part of a much larger organisation. They're used to dealing with the most powerful demons and humans alike. I'm sure they can handle your friend."

"If he can't get an answer any other way, he'll go to the Senior Partners."

That gives her something to think about.

"I'll see what I can do to let you get a message to him."

I get the impression that's the best I'm going to get, at least for now, so I leave it. I wander off in search of Spike, and find him in front of the TV, remote in hand. He's not looking too impressed.

"Nothing worth watching," he complains.

"Let me see," I suggest, running my eye over the tapes in front of him .

It's all been recorded in the past week or so, but there's certainly nothing that would appeal to Spike.

"What about movies?" I ask.

"Well, if cheesy romances are your thing, then you'll be spoilt for choice. Not a single car chase or a decent explosion among them."

"Well then, maybe we could just sit and snuggle."

He grins at that, and I make myself comfortable in his arms. Even though I know we're in trouble here, that I have no idea how we're going to make things right, I feel a wave of absolute contentment wash over me.

"So, what else do we need to ask?" he says.

I think about it. "Well, I'd like to talk to some other women. You know, get a feeling of how they live. I'd like to know what the overall aims of the Carnolan are. So far, we've got no information at all on that."

"Yeah, I've got some specific questions too. Like, how they've got electricity and gas but no telephone."

"Generator?" I suggest. "I mean, if they want this place to be a secret, they could hardly be connected to the grid."

"Maybe," he agrees. "But, if this place is impervious to cell phone and TV signals, where does the sunlight come from?"

"Not sure I see the link," I admit.

"Well, Pet, light that you see, cell phone and TV signals are all the same really. They're all forms of light, just you can't see most of it."

"Oh," I answer. Somewhere, in the back of my mind I remember learning something like that back in high school.

"And then there's the weather. I'm sure I felt a bit of a breeze out there."

"Do you trust her?" I ask.

"Lucy? I more trust her than not, but I wouldn't like to rely on her if I could help it. I think she's been truthful as far as it goes, but her aims are so far from ours that her priorities would be completely different. You?"

"Yeah, that about sums it up. What do you think about telling her about our problems? I mean, the contract, and Lilah's control of you. Wait, I wonder if Lilah's control will even work here."

He tenses at the reminder of Lilah's power over him. "Might be a good idea to ask her that one. If I go off on a killing spree while I'm here, it might not do much for inter-species relations."

"True," I agree, "but then, if these Carnolans are all strong, then maybe you can do less damage here."

"What about the women? Or the little ones? I can't help but think that if I hurt one of those then I'll lose us any choice to decide which way to go. It'll either be destroy the Carnolan or be destroyed. From that perspective, it'd be a right smart move for Lilah to have me do something nasty."

"Would it?" I ask. "I mean, even if we were able to destroy this enclave, it sounds like there are other enclaves around the world. Destroying the whole species must need something pretty spectacular."

"No, Pet, it wouldn't. Think about it. They need human women to reproduce. Cut off the supply, and you've destroyed the species. It might take a while, but it'd work. Just making known what we know now, that they need human women as mates, and that they eat human flesh would probably do more harm than good."

"Doesn't sound like my style, though. I mean, killing something dead. I get that. You know, stake through the heart, vampire turns to dust. Long term plans? So not really my thing."

He shrugs. "Don't know that's the way to do it either, but it's worth keeping it in mind."

Dinner is delicious, and I'm amazed at how hungry I am once again. Of course, when I comment to Lucy that I don't know where my appetite came from, Spike gives me that smirk which at once reminds me of how much it used to irritate me, and at the same time makes the events of earlier flash into my mind. I know my face takes on a pinkish tone as a result, and I make up my mind to try to get my own back later.

Lucy specifically asked that we didn't talk about business over dinner, so we keep things to inconsequential nonsenses, although the quality of the food renders conversation less important.

Later, we're seated in the living room, cups of coffee in our hands. Spike and I are together, sitting close but not actually touching. Lucy is sitting opposite us, and her hands are folded in her lap.

"I believe you have some questions," she begins.

"Yeah," I reply. "Er, before we start, though, did you think about letting us contact our friends?"

"I did. The best I can offer at the moment is for you to compose a text message on your phone. Make sure that it contains enough information that your friend knows it's genuine, and I'll get someone to transmit it from the outside."

"If you don't have any way to communicate with the outside, how do you function as a community?" I ask. I imagine living without phones, and I find I can't quite do it.

"There are ways," she says, without further information.

I'm about to ask for something else, when she smiles.

"I hear you met Winston," she says.

"Yeah. Why?"

"I think perhaps I'd better explain something to you. Winston is 16. He looks older, by human standards anyway, but that's a peculiarity of Carnolan physiology. Children grow at similar rates to humans, but there are few of the changes you associate with ageing. Most 16 year-olds will be indistinguishable from much older people. Even very old Carnolans, well into their second century, look little different from in their teens."

"That explains …"

"His attitude? Well, at sixteen he's not yet allowed to go out into the human world without his parents. Imagine a sixteen-year-old boy who's never had the chance to talk to girls other than his mother and other married women. He's got the same urges that any sixteen-year-old would have. You're the first apparently unattached woman he's ever had the chance to chat to."

"But I was with Spike. Why would he assume I was unattached?"

"Well, that's one of the arrogances shared by all Carnolans. They have certain … advantages. Our society treats women better than human society. Carnolans know that they need us, that their society is dependent on human women. It's a lifestyle which can be extremely comfortable. And, well, imagine the advantages of a husband who will forever have the strength and vigour of his teens."

"So he thought that because Spike was human I'd just drop him?"

"Pretty much. He's still some time away from being allowed into the human world unchaperoned. In Carnolan terms, Winston is actually rather immature for his age. I believe he's just been told that his formal training in the ways of humans has been postponed for another couple of years, and I would imagine he's extremely unhappy about that. This incident has simply reinforced my belief that it was the correct decision to make, both for his own safety, and the safety of the enclave."

The imagined compliment that Winston's clumsy chat up implied somehow loses its value when it's obvious that it's come from a hormone riddled teenager. Still, I've got exactly what I want, so I can live with that.

I'm still musing about this, when Spike asks about the gas and electricity.

"We use bottled gas and have our own generator," she answers. "The generator's at the other side of the enclave from where we were earlier. And our need for fuel is limited to cooking and light at night. The enclave itself looks after our other needs.”

"Yeah, that's what I thought. But how does light get in when TV signals can't?" Spike asks.

Lucy looks perturbed by the question. "I'm not actually certain," she admits. "There's obviously a difference, but I'm not an expert in either the magic or the physics."

Spike seems to accept this, but I can't help but wonder if he's got an idea.

I tell Lucy that I'd like to meet some other women.

"I can arrange that, of course. Naturally, I can't require them to answer your questions, but I can arrange a meeting. There are only another four women in the enclave at the moment, however."

"Why so few?"

"Well, firstly, some left when they knew you were coming. Remember, you were asked to destroy us. Then too, it's just the nature of things. Carnolans live much longer than humans. Yet, once they've chosen a mate, that's it, for life. When their mate dies, as is the normal progression of things, that's the end of that part of their lives. Remember too, that the requirement of eating the flesh of their mothers means that Carnolans don't actually become capable of reproduction until much later in their lives than humans. My own sons might not expect that to happen for another forty or fifty years, by which time they will be in their sixties or seventies. My own husband was ninety-four when we married. It’s also true that many Carnolans never learn the rules of human society well enough to actually persuade a woman to come and live among us. They’re seen as odd in many respects, and often have huge problems fitting in socially."

"So, what you're saying is that only a small number of Carnolans will actually have a wife at any given time?" I ask.

"Exactly. Women are always in the minority."

"Yet they let you run the government?"

"They insist on it. You see, one of the disadvantages of Carnolan reproduction is that there is very little change from generation to generation. It's not exactly like cloning, since there seem to be minor random changes in genes which occur naturally, but the resulting variation in personality is much less than among humans. When they used to run their own affairs, nothing changed. They lived apart from humans except when they needed to find a mate, but otherwise the society stagnated."

"So, why does the woman who's in charge of the government have time to cook her own food?" I ask.

"My role is primarily a planning one. There's actually very little to be done otherwise. Those parts of the society which work well continue to do so without interference. The Carnolan race is actually very peaceful. There are few things which will cause a violent outburst, and all of those are related to a perceived threat. As a result of their longevity, Carnolans long ago learned how to make money and keep it. Most of the things which humans become addicted to don't work with them anyway. Alcohol and drugs have no effect. The only addiction I'm aware of is the need to make money, but that's only ever done within human laws because of the absolute fear of involving human men in their affairs."

"You've mentioned your husband a few times. Is he with your sons?" I ask.

"My husband is dead. He strayed too near Sunnydale some years ago, when my sons were still young. He was killed."

"I didn't, … did I?"

"Oh, no. Not you. He was given the job of finding out about a Government installation there. I believe they were called the Initiative. He was killed trying to infiltrate their headquarters."

"So the Initiative knew about the Carnolans?" I ask.

"It's likely they thought him human. Carnolans can certainly pass as such for any tests short of a post mortem examination. We managed to retrieve his body - another of the ancient magics at our disposal, so they never got the evidence."

"I'm sorry," I say, knowing it's inadequate from the look of pain on her face as she spoke about him.

"Not as sorry as I am," she answers.

I'm loath to interrupt her thoughts again, but Spike seems to have no qualms about that, although he does leave it for a short while.

"So, you want us to destroy the Senior Partners?"

Lucy seems to have to come back from a long way away, but she answers, "Yes."

"Why?"

"Well, they're not exactly a force for good, are they?"

"No, but it's never as simple as that, is it? We get rid of the Senior Partners, and the power vacuum will be filled by something else. You planning on taking that role?"

"No, we're not. But the fact remains that the Senior Partners have decided to destroy us. We're left the choice of destroying them or being destroyed."

"So," I ask, "what have you done to upset them?"

"Apart from having a prophecy that says we may one day destroy them?"

"Yes, apart from that. I assume that prophecy's been around for a long time."

"It has. But we've made it our habit to keep out of the way, to seem as unthreatening as possible. It was actually you who changed things." She turns to me as she says that. "You're the Slayer who was foretold as being our instrument."

"But if the prophecy says that I could be the one to destroy them, why would they send me to you?"

"I think it's an attempt to circumvent the prophecy. If you're going to meet us, then it'll happen. By giving you the information they did, they obviously hoped to get you to act before you found out the truth."

"I can see why they might think that," I admit.

"And I've got no doubt that they have some sort of hold on you."

"Yes, they have."

"Would you like to tell me what it is?" she asks. "I have no guarantees, but I may be able to help."

"Well, the deal was mystically sealed. I have to destroy the Carnolan species, and only then will the deal be completed. Until then, Lilah, who works for the Senior Partners, has an amulet, and with it she can control Spike. She can make him do things, terrible things, that would destroy him."

"This amulet, is it mystical in nature?"

"I suppose," I admit.

Beside me Spike's unhappiness about the threat of control is clear.

"I don't actually know if he'll be safe here in the enclave. Most magics bounce off, but it depends on the source of the magic. If it's closely related to our own, on the same frequency if you like, it'll get through."

"Why would it be on the same frequency?" Spike asks, and there's suspicion on his face.

"No particular reason," Lucy replies, and she seems quite calm.

"So, I'm still a loose cannon," he mutters, and I put a hand on his.

"I won't let you do anything you don't want to," I remind him.

"But what sort of life is that? Having you nursemaid me all the time."

"Wes might find a way round it," I remind him. "Or Willow."

"Might. Don't fancy trusting might be."

Lucy can obviously sense that I need to spend some time alone with Spike, as she gets up and walks towards the office door. "Let me have your cell phone when you're ready," she says as she goes inside.

Chapter 25 – Cutting

We’ve been here two days. Two days, in which I’ve spent time talking, and even more time listening, to women who’ve decided to spend their lives among demons. I’ve listened a bit to the men, the Carnolans, too but that’s been rather less satisfactory. It seems that Winston’s not actually as extreme as I’d hoped. In terms of social understanding, they’re all very, well, immature is one way of looking at it. They seem brusque and arrogant and don’t seem to have any wish to ingratiate themselves with anyone. Not that I want that, exactly, it’s just, when you’re dealing with people, there’re certain things you expect, certain courtesies and habits you just take for granted. Things like knowing how to have a conversation rather than talking at the other person, and not continually looking me up and down as if I was quite literally on the market. After the first time or two when I met with some men or a mixed group, I left Spike out of these discussions. His temper wasn’t coping. Not that this solved the problem, because afterwards I had to deal with a Spike who oscillated between jealous and hopeless and persuade him all over again that I only want him. Mind you, the persuading was fun. And, I can’t help but think he’s started to realise that I wouldn’t be interested in a Carnolan even if he weren’t around – his most recent protestation was lacking authenticity.

According to Lucy, the lack of social understanding among the Carnolans has been a problem, and she’s been working to put it right. It seems that the way the Carnolan mind works just makes it difficult for them to understand human society. Their priorities are all about making money and their own families and society. In the recent past, the numbers of Carnolans actually persuading a woman to marry them have been few. Of course, the money has helped break the ice, but that, on its own, doesn’t last. Apart from anything else, the information on the true identity of a boyfriend is only divulged after gaining the agreement of others. She implied that they had means of understanding the true motives of any of the women suggested, but she went quiet when I tried to find out how that was done.

I wondered about that, because, it seems to me that if there’s a man who wants to get physical with a lady, and he can’t marry her without getting permission, what’s to stop him just going ahead and sleeping with her without disclosure? And, apparently, there’s nothing to stop that, at least until the Carnolan is rendered fertile by the death of his mother. And again, there was a distinct clamming up as to how this was enforced.

The women, on the other hand, certainly seem happy. They’re either all due Oscars, or it’s genuine.

After our conversation with Lucy the other night, I put together a message for Wes. I explained as much as I could, grateful that at least Gina would be able to translate some of the abbreviations I used. If I’d been texting Giles, it’d have been pointless. Lucy suggested that she might get the phone back this morning, so maybe there’ll be news.

It’s barely dawn, and I’m lying in bed right now, propped on an elbow, watching Spike. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of the sight. He looks so … angelic when he’s asleep. Peaceful. Beautiful. A work of art. As I watch, he’s becoming agitated, and I tense, ready to act if Lilah tries anything, but so far, it seems to be just a dream. I move away from him, just enough to give him room to move as it becomes obvious that he’s fighting in this dream. Not that I’m in any danger of being hurt; his movements are just too small and controlled for that. There aren’t any words I recognise, but he’s muttering something. And then, it stops. He’s still again, but before I can lie down close to him, he opens his eyes.

He seems as if he’s not quite awake yet, looking at me as if he can’t quite be sure I’m there. I put a hand out to touch his face, and he catches it, planting a kiss on my palm.

“I love you,” I tell him. I’ve said it a lot lately, but he doesn’t seem to be getting tired of hearing it.

“She said you would tell me.”

Not the answer I expected, but I’m intrigued.

“Who?”

“The girl. The girl who was going to be hurt. I was dreaming about it. Back in the school, when I was hearing the voices. You told me there was a girl, and someone was going to hurt her. Some wankers were going to sacrifice her to a demon. She said you’d tell me. Some day, you’d tell me.”

“Tell you what?” I ask, remembering Cassie, the girl I couldn’t save.

“She didn’t say, and I didn’t know then. I know now. And you did. The day I burned up, you told me you loved me. How did she know?”

“She just knew, I guess.”

He never mentioned what she said. All that time, and he didn’t say anything. Did I love him then, right back then, when I was trying to save Cassie? I didn’t think so, but … But then I couldn’t say when it changed, when it became love.

There’s someone knocking at our door, and I jump up and pull on a wrap before going to answer it. Spike, of course, doesn’t have a wrap, and pulling on jeans that tight takes a little longer, so he stays where he is.

It’s Lucy, and she’s holding out my cell phone and a piece of paper.

“Here’s your phone back,” she tells me. “And there was some voice mail, so I had someone transcribe it before it came back into the enclave. Looks like there’re some text messages too, but I don’t know what they’re about.”

“You mean you didn’t check?”

“No, I didn’t. Obviously, someone had to listen to the voice messages.”

I turn around again, closing the door behind me, and fall back on the bed, pressing the keys to access the texts. Spike takes the paper from my hand, and for a moment we both read in silence.

Wes was worried. By the sound of it, my message didn’t change that, but he’s agreed to wait for now. There’s a second message from him that doesn’t seem to make much sense.

Tree still working. Believe breakthrough possible.

I look at it a couple of times before it dawns on me. It’s the word breakthrough that does it, in the end. The only breakthrough I’m interested in is the one that will free Spike from Lilah’s control. That explains the rest of it. The tree I assume is Willow, and it all sounds hopeful.

By the time I’ve translated that, Spike’s looking over my shoulder. He seems to understand it too, because he looks a little happier than he did.

“What’s on the paper?” I ask.

“Dawn’s been calling you, sounds worried. And a couple from Gina. Just hoping things are ok, and that she’s worrying too.”

I take the paper from him, and it’s obvious that there’s more than these bald statements on it. As I start to read, he grabs some things, pulls on his pants, and tells me he’s going to shower.

I read the messages, and, well, there’re a lot more words there, but he actually summed it up pretty well. I immediately try to put a text together for Dawn in the hope that I can get Lucy to send it. Unfortunately, there’s so much I need to tell her, and it’s just not feasible. I stick to the bare fact that I’m safe, and promise to call her first chance I get and suggest she contact Wesley for more information.

I lie back on the bed and consider joining Spike in the shower, but I decide I’m just too comfortable where I am. Anyway, if I’m still here, maybe I can persuade Spike to join me when he comes back, and then I’ll need to shower anyway.

I come awake suddenly, the way you do when you had no thought of sleeping in the first place. I’m cold, and, although I’ve no idea how long I’ve been asleep, I’m concerned there’s no sign that Spike’s come back. I go down to the bathroom and I’m surprised to hear water still running. I call on Spike, but he doesn’t answer. It occurs to me that it might be Lucy in there now, so I run down to the first floor to see if Spike’s there, but deep down, I know something’s wrong. I find Lucy in her kitchen, and ask her if she’s seen Spike. She says she hasn’t, and assumes he’s responsible for the lack of hot water. I run back upstairs, hearing Lucy behind me. I call again, and again I get no response. I try the door, and it’s locked.

“What’s wrong?” Lucy asks from behind me.

I don’t answer, I just put my shoulder to the door. The lock gives easily, and I run into the room, pulling aside the curtain. The first thing I see is the blood. Lots of it, running down the drain, mixing with the icy water that’s still running. I hear a gasp from Lucy as she follows me in.

Spike’s crouching in the bathtub, and he’s got a razor blade in his hand. He’s been scoring his chest arm and legs, cutting into his flesh, and he’s shaking with cold and humming to himself.

I grab the nearest towel, switch off the water and wrap it around him.

“Can you get a first aid kit?” I demand of Lucy, and she nods then disappears.

Spike’s shaking his head now, and then he speaks. Or, at least, it’s his voice, but I know it’s Lilah.

“Just a little reminder, Slayer. I didn’t expect to go this long without seeing results. Just don’t get sidetracked.”

I know the instant she’s gone, because Spike goes limp, dropping the blade, no longer needing to resist. I gather him up in my arms, lift him to his feet and turn around to find Lucy behind me, a box in her hand.

“I’ll take him upstairs,” I say, starting to walk him there. He’s shivering, and I wonder what else Lilah was doing to him. At the door of our bedroom, I turn and take the box from Lucy, then continue to take Spike to the bed. He’s weak, but I don’t have to carry him.

“I’ll go,” Lucy says from the doorway. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

I smile my thanks towards her, and she closes the door behind her.

Spike’s just lying there, the towel covering him like some sort of gory shroud. His eyes are closed, and his breathing’s very shallow. I peel back the towel, checking his chest, arms and legs. The cuts are shallow, but they’ve bled a lot, and he’s pale. It’s hard to estimate how much blood he’s lost, and right now, I really wish he was still a vampire so I could be sure that he’d be ok.

I start to clean him off, gently wiping the cuts on his arm with an antiseptic cloth, and he winces then opens his eyes. He bats my hand away, muttering something and trying to sit up.

“Lie back,” I tell him. “Let me check you out.”

“I’m fine,” he disagrees. “Just surface cuts. Had to do it.”

“I know,” I say. “Just another item on the reckoning I’m preparing for Lilah. But you must’ve lost a lot of blood, so I’m going to ask Lucy what they do about injuries round here.”

“No,” he says, putting a surprisingly strong hand on my arm.

“Spike, you’re human now. You need to get checked out, maybe a transfusion. The blood …”

“Was pretty dilute. Look, most of the cuts have already stopped bleeding.”

I take another look, and see he’s right. Now that the water’s no longer obscuring the picture, I can see that some of the cuts have already crusted over, and others look older than they should.

“How long ago did you do some of these?” I ask.

“Started just after I got into the bathroom. Almost as if she knew you were out of the way.”

There’s another knock on the door then, and Lucy opens it without waiting for an answer. Beside her is Jessie, one of the women I met the other day.

“Lucy told me there’s been an accident. Like I said when we talked, I’m a nurse, trained as one anyway, even if I’m not working right now on account of the little ones. She thought maybe I could help.”

I nod my head. “Yeah, I think he may need more than a band aid.”

Spike’s obviously not happy, but he doesn’t stop her from examining him, then checking his pulse and blood pressure.

“How long since you gave me my phone back?” I ask, cursing the fact that I had no idea.

Lucy checks her watch before replying. “About an hour and a half, maybe a little more.”

I realise then that Spike must have been in that shower for over an hour. But it still doesn’t make sense.

Jessie turns round to gesture me back to the bedside.

“He seems to be in pretty good shape considering,” she says. “His pulse is a bit high, but that’s to be expected, and his blood pressure’s at the low end of normal range. He might get a few giddy spells, but he should be fine. It would’ve been better to let me have a look sooner, though. Some of those cuts are hours old. If you want my professional opinion, he should see a psychiatrist. Cutting himself like that – one day it’s going to go too far.”

She leaves then, and Lucy gives me a concerned look before leaving too.

“What happened, Spike?” I ask. “Has Lilah been having you cutting yourself for days?”

As I say it, I know it’s ridiculous. I’ve become intimately acquainted with Spike’s body lately, and I’d know if this had happened before.

“Don’t be daft,” he answers. “All happened this morning.”

“But she said, …”

“Don’t care what she said. Maybe she’s not such a good nurse.”

“But, she’s right,” I say, pointing to the cuts on his legs. “They don’t look fresh.”

“Well, I started there,” he admits.

“Yeah, an hour and a bit ago.”

“Is that all?” he asks, seeming bewildered.

“Yeah, sorry, I fell asleep. Didn’t know you’d even been gone that long.” I’m feeling guilty about that, but I force myself to think about something more constructive.

“So, why did she have you cutting yourself? What’s that supposed to gain her, except for pissing me off?”

“She didn’t want me to cut myself,” he says, grimacing and doing that jerky thing with his head.

“What?”

“What do you think, love? She wanted me to hurt you, or failing that, anyone else I could find. Started putting these ideas in my head, and I tried to fight her. She was winning, right up till I found that razor by the bath. Took out the blade, and managed to distract myself.”

“You … chose to …”

I punch him lightly on the shoulder, then feel instant remorse when he grimaces.

“But why?”

“She knew you were asleep. She said you’d stay that way too, for a while. But she gave me the choice – hunted through my memories, found an image or two of the kiddies we say yesterday. She … she …”

I lay myself down on the bed beside him, and hold him close. The trembling’s started again, but I don’t think it’s from cold this time. I rock him gently in my arms, and soon he’s fallen asleep.

While he sleeps, I’m thinking. He healed, and is healing, fast. Slayer fast. Or vamp fast. And he managed to thwart Lilah. And Lilah managed to get through to him here. Now, does that mean that the compulsion was somehow weakened by the enclave? Or has he really found a way to resist the compulsion. Unfortunately, if the compulsion actually involves hurting himself rather than someone else, I don’t see how this method is going to work. Not that I even want a repeat of this method. I don’t want to leave him now. The way he’s clinging to me is just so needy. But, I need to talk to Lucy. We’ve found out what we can for now. What I need is to come up with a plan. And to do that, I need better access to Wes and Willow than I’ve got in here. We need to get back outside the enclave, and we need that now. I just hope I can persuade Lucy.

Chapter 26 – A History Lesson

I’m just debating whether or not I can leave Spike so I can talk to Lucy, when I hear her knock at the door. I gently extricate myself from Spike, get up and open it, to find her looking pale and worried.

“I think we should talk,” she says.

“Yes. But, I don’t want to leave Spike.”

She glances over my shoulder at the form on the bed, and nods.

“You hungry?” she asks.

It hadn’t occurred to me until she asked, but I find I am.

She seems to know the answer before I say anything.

“I’ll bring something up. I’ve got another chair downstairs too, and we can talk here if you like.”

“Thanks,” I reply, grateful that she understands. “Just let me get dressed.”

She leaves then, so I find some clothes, and pull them on. She returns soon, with a folding table and another chair which she leaves me to arrange. When she comes back, she has a tray with a pot of coffee, toast and some fried eggs. The smell reinforces my hunger, and I check on Spike while she sets it onto the table.

I’m relieved that Spike seems to be sleeping peacefully. I take my seat at the small table, and start to eat. Lucy seems hungry too, and in no time, we’ve finished the food, and I’m pouring myself another cup of coffee.

“He can’t stay here,” Lucy says.

I’m surprised, but then I’m not. He’s the immediate threat, not me.

“He won’t go without me.”

She seems to bristle at that, but I can see she makes an effort to relax again.

“We could get rid of him if we need to, but that’s not what I had in mind.”

“What then?” I ask.

“I think you should both leave.”

Ok, not what I was expecting. What I was going to ask, but not what I was expecting.

“Ok,” I say, trying not to sound too enthusiastic.

“We’ll have to make it look like you’ve escaped,” she goes on. “I mean, so the Senior Partners think you’re still working on their problem.”

“I haven’t said we’re not,” I remind her.

“I know, but I think you’re still considering the matter. Am I right?”

“Well, yes, and to be honest, I’ll be happier when I can discuss it with my friends. But you’ve got to realise that I’m not sure I’ll be able to hide what I’m doing from the Senior Partners.” Maybe Wesley will have some ideas, or Willow, but I’m strictly into the violence side of any conflict. Subterfuge isn’t my strong suit.

“I’ll be going with you.”

Now, that takes me by surprise.

“A hostage you mean?”

“That’s probably the easiest way to explain my presence,” she agrees. “But I was hoping to be more of a guest.”

“Ok,” I agree cautiously. I wish Spike was listening to this. Not that I think he’s any cleverer than I am, it’s just, two heads and all that.

“And, if I come, I can help with keeping the truth from the Senior Partners.”

I get up from the table and wander over to the bed. I want to check on Spike again, but it also gives me a few seconds to think. I’m pleased to note he’s still asleep. The effort involved in resisting Lilah’s compulsion seems to have exhausted him.

“So, you know how to keep things from the Senior Partners, and you know the source of their power. What I don’t understand is why you need my help at all.”

“I wasn’t going to tell you this, at least, not yet. But, in light of what’s happened …”

“I’m listening,” I say, returning to the chair.

“I think a history lesson might be appropriate.”

I feel my enthusiasm drop through the floor at that. But, I try not to show it.

“A long time ago, a very long time ago, the Carnolan people existed. They were powerful, and, where they came in contact with the primitive humans of the time, they were seen as godlike. They had a magic, something intrinsic to their makeup, which means that even if another species could learn about it, they could never reproduce it. Even though this magic was a part of every Carnolan, there was a small group who were learned in the lore, and who had great power. The lore was passed from father to son, but there were few sons, and the numbers were always small. Over time, the pride and arrogance of this group grew, and they started to call themselves the Chosen. And, inevitably perhaps, they decided they no longer wanted to serve the Carnolan people, but wanted to be served by them. They were annoyed by the insistence of the majority that humanity should not be enslaved. They wanted to remove restrictions around breeding with human women. They wanted power and pleasure, not for the whole people, but just for the few. The result was a war. Despite the power of the few, the war was evenly matched because they were so outnumbered. It took, it is said, five hundred men to thwart the magic of one of the Chosen, but there were those hundreds, and they fought.”

“It was stalemate, and both sides knew it. The Chosen decided to change the rules. They found an ally, something that was far more powerful than they, but which was willing to grant them what they needed to defeat us.”

She pauses then, but the silence is broken by Spike murmuring something. I jump up and run over to him, but he’s already silent again, his breathing steady.

“This power,” I ask, returning to the table. “What was it?”

“I’m not sure I can explain it in any detail. But, I believe it was the creation of the entity known as ‘The First’ that you defeated in Sunnydale. This … it calls itself the Darkness, started as an agent of the First, but it seems that it escaped control. With the Darkness, the Chosen had the means to destroy the rest of the Carnolan people, and achieve the rest of their aims. Their first forays caused untold carnage among the rest of the population. Many believed there could be no escape. Rescue came from an unexpected source. One of the women who lived among the Carnolans at that time, human, of course, was a witch. A powerful witch. Her name is remembered with reverence among all Carnolans. She was called Seosaimhín. She found a way to use the magic of the earth, the magic of the goddess, to shield those who remained. They fled, going into hiding, and she hid them from the Chosen. Although numbers were few, they survived. As Seosaimhín grew older, she knew that the shield would fail when she died. She taught what she knew to the other women, and when she was gone, the others maintained the shielding as well as they could, but they lacked the power, and eventually it failed. However, the Chosen had turned away from their roots by then. Corrupt as they had been, they were further corrupted. They had become immortal, and had amassed great power over both humans and other species of demons. They no longer saw the rest of their kind as a threat, and so they were ignored. And to this day, neither the lore nor the numbers of the Carnolan people have been regained.”

She pauses again, looking down at her hands. I know the next bit is the important bit, so I sit silently, determined that nothing should distract her.

“In recent times, those who called themselves the Chosen prefer to control from behind the scenes, using corrupt humans and some demons to do their bidding.”

“The Senior Partners,” I say quietly. That’s what Spike suspected, or was beginning to suspect, when Lucy said that Lilah’s control might be able to get through the enclave barrier if the two magics were similar.

She nods.

“So, you see, it wasn’t an idle boast when I said that I knew the source of their power. And, for one like you, who defeated the First, it should be possible to defeat the Darkness.”

“Willow,” I say.

Lucy looks confused for a moment.

“Willow – she’s a friend. She helped me, or us, defeat the First. Without her … She’s a powerful witch.”

“I knew you had the help of one such, but I didn’t know her name. I can supply her with the records on the shield used by Seosaimhín. If she can reproduce it …”

“Then, we should be able to keep Spike safe from Lilah,” I finish. “But won’t they guess what’s happening?”

“Hey, I didn’t say the plan was foolproof, now did I? It’s going to need work, but …”

“It might actually come together.”

Spike moans again, louder this time, and I glance over to see his eyes fluttering.

“I think he’s waking up,” I say.

“If you agree, I’ll arrange for us to leave as soon as possible.”

“Any chance of getting my phone charged?” I ask. “If I can call ahead, maybe I can get Willow back to LA soon. Or, could we go to her?”

“I think that’d be too suspicious, don’t you?”

“Probably,” I admit. “Ok, back to plan a.”

Lucy picks up the tray with the dirty dishes on it, and I move to sit on the bed next to Spike. He wakens slowly, smiles when he sees me, then his expression changes.

“It’s ok, Spike,” I reassure. “You didn’t hurt anyone, well other than yourself.”

“Was a close thing, though. I …”

“You chose to hurt yourself rather than someone else. Can’t say I approve of the part that was hurting you, but …”

“Doesn’t feel too bad,” he notices, flexing his left arm.

I remove the rough bandage I managed to put on his arm, and I’m relieved to notice that it’s healing well. As well as I would, or maybe better. The cuts only seemed older than they were as a result of accelerated healing.

He’s pushing my hand away, and trying to sit up. I move to give him room, and he tries to stand, but quickly sits back down on the bed.

“Dizzy?” I ask.

“Just a bit,” he admits. “Be fine in a minute.”

He carries on removing the bandages, examining the cuts which range from just crusted over to almost closed.

“Healing fast,” he notices. “How long?”

I check the time. “Maybe three hours since the first of them?”

He nods. “I’d guess that’s faster than when I was a vamp. But then, lack of actual circulation meant it wasn’t a big problem.”

“Any idea why?” I ask. “The strength, and the healing – do you know why?”

“Not a clue. That’s a question for the witch and the Watcher, if we ever get out of here.”

“They’re going to let us go.”

He stops what he’s doing at that.

“Why?”

“Well, mainly because they’ve decided you’re too dangerous to have around. And, partly, I think, because they think Willow’ll be able to help.”

“I think you’ve got some talking to do,” he tells me. “Throw me some clothes, and tell me what happened while I was having my beauty sleep.”

“I’ll tell you, but first, let me go and get you something to eat. Lucy and I had some breakfast while you were asleep.”

He seems to consider that for a moment, then shakes his head.

“I’m not sure I could stomach anything just now. Maybe in a while. So, let me get dressed, and then you can tell me what’s happening.”

I manage to persuade him to sit up on the bed when he’s dressed. I think the giddiness is passing, but it’s not gone. I spend a few minutes telling him as much as I remember of Lucy’s story, with Spike’s questions reminding me of bits I missed. When I get to the part where I tell him that the Senior Partners are Carnolans, he smiles.

“Thought there was something funny about that. I mean, we couldn’t tell her anything about that amulet, so why would she even consider the possibility that its magic might be related to what powers the enclave?”

He stops then, his eyes narrowing a bit as he thinks of something else.

“But if that’s true, there isn’t much chance that Willow will be able to do anything permanent about my control by the amulet. A shield’s only a temporary measure at best.”

“But there is a chance that one of the Carnolans could do something about it.”

“Well, providing it’s not in the realms of that lost lore, I suppose.”

“Did she say how we’re going home?”

“No, you were waking up, and I wanted to see how you were. She said she had to arrange things.”

We chat a bit longer, or at least, I chat, and Spike doesn’t say a lot. I know he’s upset about what happened, and I understand it. I just wish I could show him it wasn’t his fault. I wish he could see that choosing to hurt himself rather than anyone else makes him pretty much the hero of the piece.

We pick up our belongings, throwing them back into our bags. When we go back downstairs, Lucy isn’t alone. She introduces her companion as Clinton and comments that he’s one of their current experts in Carnolan lore. He’s also going to get us through the barrier that encloses the enclave.

That sounds fairly simple, since it’s just a matter of one of them zapping us. Well, the phrase used was ‘imparting a resonating energy wave’, but I prefer zapping. I’m assured it’s painless, and that Lucy’s had it done countless times. This Clinton is going to travel with us in the back of a van. He’ll then be coming and going from my apartment, and we’re going to have to smuggle him inside my apartment when we get back, but that’s a problem for then.

When we go outside, the van is waiting. It’s large and black, with seats in the back, but the windows are so tinted as to make the occupants invisible. Clinton climbs into the back, and Lucy takes the driver’s seat. She glances at me in invitation, so I join her in the front, and Spike climbs in the back with Clinton. I certainly don’t want to drive, and I’m not sure Spike should be driving just in case he has another of those dizzy spells. One or two onlookers seem to be glowering at us as we move off.

“They don’t seem too happy,” I comment to Lucy.

“There was considerable resistance to my leaving with you,” she replies. “As their leader, it was felt I was too valuable to be risked, but I insisted that it had to be me.”

“Why?”

“Well, it’s bound to be easier since I’m human. I’ll be more comfortable with you and your friends. And then, I’m more able to defend myself than any other of our women. And, from the hostage point of view, that’s bound to be more believable given my position.”

I nod. She looks as if she’d like to add something, so I keep my eyes on her.

“And then there’s the fact that I’m a Slayer. I kind of like the idea of being able to be part of that life too, even if it’s only for a little while.”

We drive towards the edge of the enclave, and as we approach it, I feel a tingle, like a small electric shock, that seems to permeate not just me, but the van itself. We approach the mirror-like surface of the barrier, and go straight through.

Interestingly, we seem to be in a tunnel – a tunnel made of whatever the enclave is made of. If they can do that, it sort of explains why there aren’t visible tracks which could lead to the location of the enclave. Glancing in the side mirror, I see the tunnel apparently collapsing as we go, never quite catching up with us, and behind us, there are no tracks. This magic of the Carnolans seems to be very practical.

I glance in the back. Clinton seems to be asleep, his eyes closed. Spike’s eyes are closed too, but he’s not sleeping. He’s tense; I can see it in his arm muscles. He’s still upset by what happened, and scared that he might not be able to resist again.

While we got things together to leave, Spike talked a little about his ordeal in the shower. Like last time, Lilah looked through Spike’s memories to come up with ideas of what to force him to do. The scene she had dragged to the front of his mind was something particularly gruesome, although he refused to give me the details. I do know that it was something Angelus planned, though.

I give up thinking about that. Whatever it was, it’s just not fair that Spike had to think about it again.

The tunnel ends as we get to a rough road. There isn’t any traffic visible on it, but Lucy double checks anyway before turning onto it. I’m just thinking that it’s surprising that Lucy’s going to let us know the location of the enclave, when there’s a sudden lurch. My first thought is that the van hit something, but then I realise it’s full dark, and the road we’re on isn’t a rough track in the desert any more. We’re in LA, or the outskirts of it anyway.

“What the bloody …?” comes from the back.

“What just happened?” I demand, turning to talk to Lucy.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “It’s just a little confusion thing, so you won’t be able to remember the location of the enclave. Clinton just arranged that you wouldn’t remember the past few hours. I know, it’s an invasion of your mind, and I wouldn’t have agreed to it if there’d been any alternative. Originally, we planned to sedate you for the journey back, but that wouldn’t work if you were supposed to be escaping.”

“If you’re trying to persuade us to help you, that’s really not the way to go about it.”

“In the end, Buffy, you’ll have to choose between us and the Senior Partners. If you’re the Slayer I believe you are, you’ll make the right decision, and you won’t let something like this get in the way. And, if you decide in favour of the Senior Partners, then I’ll be dead, so it won’t matter to me by then anyway.”

And, you know what? I get it. I understand that what she’s saying is that she’s a leader, and she’s got to make tough decisions. She’s got to do some things that she wishes weren’t necessary, but she knows they are. And if making me forget what was probably an extremely boring road trip is the worst of it, then maybe it’s not a big deal.

“It wasn’t my decision,” she continues. “It’s a question of long held custom – no one is allowed to know where our enclaves are until they agree to join their lives to ours.”

“And putting a blindfold on wouldn’t have the same effect?” I manage. Well, I might understand, but that doesn’t mean I’m not annoyed.

“No, it wouldn’t, as I’m sure you know. Now, would you like to direct me to your apartment? Or do you wish to go elsewhere?”

“My apartment’s fine,” I answer. “I don’t suppose you let anyone know we’re coming home?”

“No, I didn’t. While I realise that your friends need to know, I’d rather Clinton is out of the way first. I have begun to know you two, and even to trust you up to a point, but I don’t know your friends.”

She has a point, of course.

We arrive at my apartment, and by mutual consent, we decide that Lucy should pretend to be unconscious, and that Spike should carry her. While he does that, Clinton gets out quietly, and seems to disappear from sight. I shrug my shoulders, and follow Spike and Lucy inside, only to find that Clinton got there before me.

Once there, Clinton takes up residence in the living room, doing what Lucy explains as some security. He hasn’t spoken a word that I remember, and I decide to just ignore him for now. I set about making Lucy comfortable in one of the spare bedrooms. Since I moved in here, the other bedrooms have had more use than I’d have expected! Once she’s established there, I go in search of Spike. I assume he’s in front of the TV, and I’m right, except the set’s not on. And Clinton has disappeared.

“Where’s …?”

“Don’t know. Heard the door close, though, so it looks like he’s off to do whatever Carnolans do.”

I have to say, I feel like I’m not in control right now, and I’m not happy about it. But, there are things I need to do. It’s almost six, and I decide to call Willow. I’ll probably wake her, but it won’t be the first time I’ve done that.

I pick up my cell phone. The first thing I notice is that I’ve had a couple of calls recently. I check who’s called, and, hardly surprisingly, it’s Wes. Ignoring that for a moment, I call Willow. We need her to come here, and the sooner she’s on the plane, the better for all concerned.

I explain what I can, without going into too much detail on the phone, and Willow agrees to book the first flight. Having dealt with that, I call Wes. The phone rings, and I’m on the verge of giving up when he picks up.

“Wes?” I ask when no one says anything.

“Buffy? Is that you?”

“Yeah,” I reply, but I’m on the alert, and so is Spike by the look of him. I’ve only heard him say one word, but I know there’s something wrong.

“What’s happened?”

“It’s Gina. I left you a message, asking you to call, but I didn’t know when you’d get it.”

“What about Gina?”

Wes continues to mumble something in the background, and I have to repeat myself more loudly to break through to him.

“What about Gina?”

“She’s gone. Lilah … Lilah’s got her.”

Chapter 27 – Unravelling

“What do you mean, Lilah’s got Gina?”

I hear Wes taking a deep breath, and I wait for him to calm a bit. When he speaks again, he sounds exhausted.

“To be honest, I don’t know. Just … who else could it be? The place has been searched, but they don’t seem to have taken anything. And she’s not here.”

“Do you want us to come over?”

“Yes, … no. I’ll come to you. I can’t think straight here anyway.”

We hang up then, and I quickly fill Spike in on the situation. His expression leaves me in no doubt of the depth of his feelings on the matter. He hasn’t known Gina for long, but he was already very fond of her. The only positive thing is that I’d bet it’s taken his mind off his own problems.

A moment later, Lucy joins us. She looks tired, and I thought she’d gone to bed, but apparently she didn’t.

“Is something wrong?” she asks.

I repeat the story, and add the news that Wes is due any moment.

“I may be able to help,” she offers. “But I need to know something first. Clinton might be able to track your friend, do a location spell of sorts. But, if I ask him to come here, I need to know that he’ll be safe.”

“If he’s trying to help, why wouldn’t he be?” Spike demands.

“Well, from what you’ve told me about this Wes, he was trained as a Watcher. The Council of Watchers isn’t known for its tolerance of demons, regardless of their motives.”

“You’re talking about a man who’s been working with Angel for years, and who didn’t balk at the idea of bringing Spike back, even though we expected him to be as he was before.” I’m irritated, and I make an effort to calm myself. It’s just that Gina’s in danger. We can’t afford to waste time.

“You believe that Clinton will be safe, then?”

“Providing he does nothing to threaten one of us, I don’t see why not.”

“Very well, I will ask him to come. Although he is well able to defend himself, I would rather that it didn’t become necessary.”

She disappears again, into the bedroom, and a moment later the phone rings. It’s Willow, and she’s got her flights arranged, but she won’t be here until late tonight. In the meantime, it looks like we’re going to need Clinton.

He arrives a few moments later. Lucy seems to know he’s there, and goes to open the door for him. I wonder again about how they’re communicating. I mean, even if she’s got a cell phone, it’s not a lot of use if he doesn’t speak.

He says nothing, big surprise there, and hovers close to Lucy as she sits again. I can’t help but study him a bit. He’s not like any of the other Carnolans we met. Oh, he’s tall, dark and, well, handsome enough to get a second look or two. But the others all seemed a bit full of their own importance, and very keen to talk. I’m not sure he even can talk. Maybe it’s like monks, and he’s taken a vow of silence or something. I’m interrupted from my musing by Spike’s hand on my arm. It’s only then that I realise I’ve been staring a bit. He looks worried, and I just love him more. The pressure of his hand is reassuring, and I sit closer to him, hoping to share some of that reassurance with him.

A moment later I hear a key in the lock, and just after that, Wes appears. He and Gina took a key before we left so they could keep an eye on the place.

We do a minimal introduction, and explain why we’re back. Once that’s out of the way, Wes tells us what’s happened here.

“Ok, you know I’ve been trying to use my contacts to set up a freelance demon hunting business, what with the difference in opinion I had with my previous employers. Well, I got a call tonight from the owner of a small theatre. It seems something’s been munching on patrons as they leave in the evening, and it’s giving the theatre a bad name, so he asked me to come out and investigate. I left about nine, got to the theatre, and had a look around the area. I found a vampire nest nearby. With hindsight, maybe I found it too easily, I don’t know. It was empty, of course, at that time of night, so I went back to the theatre and waited until the show finished. I caught a couple of vamps who’d managed to manoeuvre a young couple into an alley, and managed to stake them. Once I’d finished, I spotted another, but he ran. I gave chase, even stayed in sight of him for a while, but he had the advantage of not having to breathe. I planned on going back to the nest in daylight to finish him off.”

His expression changes then, going from very businesslike, very much the Wes I’m familiar with, to something much more vulnerable.

“By the time I got back, it was after three. I expected Gina to be in bed, but there was no sign of her. The apartment looked like it had been searched, but nothing was taken, as far as I could tell. Certainly, my files and other valuables all seemed to be there. I spotted her cell phone lying on the table, and it’s not like her to leave that behind. I spent some time trying to ring you, checking with her friends, anyone she might have run to. I even called Angel and Fred, but they couldn’t tell me anything. I searched the apartment, looking for something, any clue, but there was nothing. I was just considering whether to call the police, when you called me on my home number, and I got ready to come here. That’s when I noticed that I’d lost my own cell, so I picked up Gina’s. Then, on a hunch, I checked through the received calls, and she had one, apparently from my phone, a couple of hours after I went out. I didn’t make that call. I had my phone with me when I went out, but I didn’t use it. I assume it fell out of my pocket some time in the evening.”

“So, maybe, the whole point of the job was to get you out of the way, and relieve you of your cell,” I surmise.

Wes’ face crumples at that. “It’s my fault. I should have known …”

“No,” I tell him, moving towards him and putting an arm around his shoulder. “Whoever did this knows you, knew how you’d react. So, yeah, it’s probably Lilah. But, Willow’s on her way, and in the meantime, Lucy’s brought someone who might be able to help too. Clinton’s going to do a tracing spell.”

Lucy takes over the explanation then.

“My friend Clinton may be able to find your wife,” she offers. “However, he will need something of hers – something she normally keeps close to her.”

Wes’s shoulders slump as he thinks about that, and then he straightens suddenly. He reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out his wallet. He opens it, and removes a ring. I recognise it instantly; it’s Gina’s engagement ring.

“Her fingers were swollen when we were out today. She was finding it uncomfortable, but she didn’t have a pocket so she asked me to look after it for her.”

His fingers are trembling slightly as he hands it over.

Clinton takes the ring from his fingers, holding it as if it were fragile. He then produces a map from his pocket. It looks like a photocopy or something – or maybe it’s from a computer. Anyway, the scale is very small. He lays the map out on the floor in front of him, and I’m waiting for the inevitable candles, but he doesn’t seem to have any. Magic without candles seems wrong, somehow.

What he does then is very odd. He places the ring in the centre of the map and starts to wrap it like a very small gift. My first thought is that the map’s not going to be of any use after this, as it gets folded into ever smaller bits. When the ring is parcelled within the map, he holds it in his cupped hands, and closes his eyes. Then, for the first time I hear his voice. He doesn’t speak, he sings, or rather, hums. The note is pure and low, deep but without any of the roughness so common on lower notes. It’s almost hypnotic, and I can feel my attention riveted to the parcel in his hands.

And then, the note stops. Clinton starts to unwrap the ring, and I wonder why the magic failed. I expected a change, something spectacular, but there was nothing. As he finishes unwrapping the map, I realise it’s different. The scale is much bigger, but it’s blurred, almost as if it’s out of focus. He stares at it for a moment, then shakes his head.

“What is it?” Wes demands. He’s getting closer to Clinton, but Lucy steps between them.

“Her position is being shielded. The spell has given a general indication, but it can’t get through the shielding to find her exact location.”

“But, if the magic that’s shielding her is Carnolan, shouldn’t this get through?” Spike demands.

“It should. Therefore, the magic is not Carnolan.”

I look at the map. The area seems familiar - it looks like the southern part of the rough triangle that's formed by the San Diego, Ventura, and Golden State freeways. It doesn't help much. The area is packed with apartment buildings, offices, and businesses; she could be held anywhere. Without better information, we stand no chance of finding her.

I glance at Wes, and he’s worked out as much as I have.

“Still,” I try to reassure him. “If she’s a hostage, it’s in their interest to keep her safe, and Willow might be able to tell us more.”

“If she’s a hostage, there’d be some sort of message,” he argues. “We’d have some sort of confirmation.”

“Maybe there is, but it’s gone to your place,” Spike points out. Wes starts guiltily.

“You’re right, I should get back.”

“I’m coming too,” I tell him.

“You don’t need to, you probably need to sleep,” he argues.

“And you don’t?”

He stops arguing then, and I get up.

“Wes, just let me wash my face, and I’ll be ready.”

I go into my bedroom, and Spike follows.

“I take it you want me to stay and defend our hostage.”

“Yeah, please.”

He nods. “Come back soon as you can. Can’t help but think we’re more vulnerable split up.”

“I know. Poor Gina,” I say, feeling more scared for her than I want to feel for anyone.

“Yeah,” he agrees, putting his arms around me. I lean my head on his chest and just enjoy a few moments of peace.

“Funny, though,” he says.

“What?”

“Why would Lilah hide Gina behind magic that’s not Carnolan? She doesn’t know we’ve got access to Carnolan magic, but she does know that we’ve got access to other magics. I don’t know if she knows Willow’s been involved so far or not, but she’s bound to realise that we needed some pretty big mojo to create an army of slayers.”

He lets me think about that for a moment, before stating the conclusion that was starting to form in my own mind.

“Unless she’s trying to hide Gina from the Senior Partners.”

“But why would she do that?” I ask.

Spike shrugs.

“I can’t see it,” he admits. “From what you’ve told me, she’s always worked for them. They own her, even after her death.”

“They do. Wes tried to free her before she died. He burned her contract, but it didn’t help.”

“Maybe, this is her way of saying, ‘thanks’.”

It seems unlikely, but I suppose it’s possible.

Spike goes back to the living room then, and I go to wash. When I finish in the bathroom, I go out into the hallway, but hear someone at the front door. I approach and see an envelope being pushed under the door. I pick up the envelope, and immediately open the door, hurrying towards the door to the stairwell that’s still swinging. I go through it, and down to the lobby that’s filled with sunshine as it always is in the morning. And there, in front of me, is a vaguely human form which is on fire, silently screaming and reaching towards something as it turns to dust. Shocked, it takes a second before I put everything together. The vampire, and I’ve got to assume that’s what it was, was trying to reach an old blanket which is lying close to the door to the street.

I hear someone approaching from behind, and look to see Spike. He moves straight for the blanket, lifting it to his nose.

“Vampire?” he asks.

“Looked like it. The question is, did he or she intend to get sunburned, or did they just mis-time their escape?”

I approach the door, but I don’t see any obvious escape route.

“I think they used this to get in,” Spike informs me. “S’been used as a sunshade. You can’t stop getting a bit singed doing that, and I should know. Always leaves a bit of smell on the blanket.”

“But it was lying in full sun,” I say, still confused.

“Well, either they were very careless about where they left it, or someone moved it,” he answers.

For the first time I look at the envelope in my hand. It has Wesley’s name on it.

We go back inside, and I hand it to Wes.

“Looks like they found you,” I offer.

He tears it open, pulling out a sheet of very fine paper.

He reads it through, then goes back to the beginning, and reads it aloud.

Wes,

Don’t try to find Gina. She’s safe for now. Don’t worry.

And, this note’s been specially treated. After a minute or two of being in the air, it’ll disintegrate.

Lilah

As he says the last words, the paper starts to curl at the edges, then it just turns to dust.

“Now, that’s a welcome variation on the Mission Impossible theme,” Spike comments, looking impressed.

“Who delivered it?” Wes demands.

“Whoever it was came to a dusty end,” I answer. “Personally, I think that’s carrying the Mission Impossible idea a bit too far. Looks like Lilah’s doing her best to make sure this can’t be traced to her.”

Wes is looking very confused now, and I nudge Spike.

“Spike, tell Wes what you said to me earlier,” I ask.

As he turns to do that, I go to Lucy. I look around, realising that Clinton’s gone again.

“Where’s Clinton?”

“He has things to attend to. When your other friend arrives, he’ll be back. He’s going to need to find out what he can about the amulet if we’re going to be able to destroy the link between Spike and Lilah.”

“Ok,” I say. “Seems reasonable. Anything else you need?”

“Well, details on the contract that you’ve made with the Senior Partners would be helpful too. There may be something in the wording that might help. Who was party to that?”

“Well, I’ve got a paper contract, but both Wesley and I experienced it at the time.”

“Good, two minds will be better than one. If I can read the contract for now? I suspect your watcher friend is too upset to be very useful at the moment.”

I fetch the contract, and hand it to Lucy. She gets up to take it to her room. I follow her out on the pretext of making sure she’s got towels.

“There’s one thing I’ve been wondering about,” I say.

She looks at me and smiles.

“Only one?”

“Well, one for now. Why doesn’t Clinton speak? I was starting to think he was mute or something. Can he speak?”

“Clinton can speak very well, my dear. He simply chooses not to. Those who are learned in the lore, and there are many more of them than there were historically, are wary of using their voices other than for the magic. There have been … accidents. The magic of the Carnolans is activated by the rather unusual harmonics produced by their voices. Although it’s unlikely, it’s possible to activate something unexpectedly, and so they choose not to speak.”

“So, how do they communicate?”

She smiles at that, then seems to focus somewhere else for a moment. The next thing I know, I hear a voice in my head. It’s the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard, and I know it’s Clinton’s.

“We use this method,” I hear, quite clearly, even though I know that my ears had nothing to do with the hearing.

“I can project words into your mind,” the voice continues.

“And can you read my mind?” I think back.

There’s no reaction, so I try asking the question out loud.

“Does that mean he can read my mind?”

“No,” reassures Lucy. “Humans can be taught to communicate with an adept like Clinton, but it doesn’t come naturally. Even then, there has to be an intent to communicate, so your private thoughts are safe.”

I realise that I’m relieved to hear that. The idea that Carnolans could pick up on my private thoughts isn’t a particularly happy one.

When I return to the living room, it’s to find Wesley and Spike getting ready to leave.

“Wes wants to visit his contact from last night,” Spike explains. “He was going to go alone, but I persuaded him he’d do better with some company.”

“Oh,” is all I manage to that. Of course, I’d like to go, but …

“We won’t be long, just a quick visit, a little bit of mindless violence, and we’ll find out who put him up to contacting Wes last night. Should be back in a couple of hours.”

And, do you know? He’s so much the Spike I know in that instant, that I can’t think of anything else to say.

Chapter 28 – Talking and Listening

And suddenly, I'm alone. Well, Lucy's in her room, but I can't see her so that doesn't count. Wes and Spike went off a few minutes ago, Wes all grim determination, and Spike twitching with excitement despite his almost equal resolve.

I sit down for a moment. I should go to bed, I know that, but right now, I'm too wired to sleep. And I'm probably crazy, but the idea of going to bed without Spike right now – not one that appeals.

I spot my cell phone on the table where I left it, and I realise that it's past time I told Dawn what's been happening. Checking my watch, I realise she should be just about out of bed. Unlike her teenage self, she's an early riser these days. Which is just as well, because I don't want to wait any longer to phone her.

"Hey, Dawn," I greet her.

"Oh, hello, prodigal sister. Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you for …"

"I know, Dawn, and I'm sorry. Look, can you talk now? Because what I've got to tell you might take a while."

"Er, ok," she answers, curiosity obvious in her voice. "Let me just pour some coffee, and get comfortable."

"You sure I'm not going to make you late for work?"

"Buffy, this sounds important. And, so I go in a little late? It's not like I stick to a set time to finish."

I hear some rustling in the background, and I get a mental picture of her holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder while she gets her coffee and takes it into her living room to sit down.

"Right, you have my attention," she announces suddenly, and I've got to speak. The only problem is I don't know where to begin. But, I've got to start somewhere, and I remember the last thing I discussed with her.

"Remember when I split up with Angel?"

"Yes …" she answers, sounding as if she's expecting bad news.

"Well, just after that I went out of state for a few days, and my memories of Sunnydale got clearer. I started remembering details I'd forgotten, and thinking about Spike became the norm again, rather than something I had to concentrate on. It seems someone had been trying to make me forget about him. Wes was affected too, and Willow did something so we wouldn't forget again. And I had these dreams about Spike."

"Buffy, maybe forgetting about Spike was a good thing. You were so much happier when …"

"When I had the memories stolen?" I demand. "That wasn't happiness, not really. It was just taking away the pain without doing anything to heal the injury. Anyway, to cut a very long story short, it seems that the amulet Spike wore in Sunnydale came with a 'come back' clause. And he did. He came back."

The silence at the other end of the line is literally deafening.

"Buffy, did you say Spike came back?"

"Yes."

"Wow. So, what happened? I mean, how did he come back? Did he still have his soul or has he gone back to being the big bad?"

"Dawn, he came back human."

"Ok, now, just making sure. He came back human?"

"That's right."

"So, where is he now? What's he doing?"

"Right now, he's off with Wes seeing to some business."

"But, you're not together, are you? I mean, after everything, I know you were friends again, but you wouldn't …"

"Dawn, I love him. I've loved him since those last few months in Sunnydale, and maybe before then. And he still loves me. So, yes, we're together."

There's another silent pause until Dawn speaks again.

"Buffy, are you sure? I mean, after …"

"Dawn, I've never been so sure of anything in my life."

"Are you happy?"

"That's hard. No, things aren't perfect right now. There've been some consequences to bringing him back, and there's some bad stuff to sort out, Slayery stuff that I'm not going to discuss on the phone. But I know I can't be happy without him, so I really want to give it a go."

"Slayery stuff? I thought you'd retired."

"Let's just say I wasn't given much choice."

"Ok, so, how is human Spike doing? I mean, you didn't cope well with Riley being all weak and kitteny."

"He's not."

"Not kitteny?"

"Something like that. He wasn't happy about being human, not at first. But I think he's getting used to it. Look, I can't say much more right now. When it's all over, how about Spike and I come for a visit?"

"I don't know," she says, and she sounds more subdued than during the rest of the conversation.

"What don't you know?"

"I don't know if I want to see him. I mean, after what he did, or tried to do … to you. Then he ran. He ran away."

"He came back, though."

"I know, but then, I wasn't … I didn't …"

"You were good friends once."

"I know. But we weren't at the end. I don't think he forgave me for that time when I kicked you out of the house. I didn't think I cared about him then, but the way he looked at me after that, it hurt. There was so much. I don't know. And anyway, why hasn't he called me? Why did he leave it up to you to tell me?"

"About the first thing he did was look up your number on my cell phone. I think he even dialled, but didn't speak. He needed to know you were ok."

"But he couldn't talk to me."

"I expect he didn't know whether or not you'd want to talk to him. Hardly surprising when it seems you don't know either."

"Ok, look, I've got to get ready for work. I'll think about it."

"Promise?"

"Promise. But you've got to tell me everything. I get that you can't say it all on the phone, but I really want to know."

"I will. When we get through this, I'll come and visit, and it'll be up to you whether or not you talk to Spike. How does that sound?"

"Good, I think."

We finish the call, and I stand up and stretch. The call to Dawn seems to have taken the last of my energy, so I decide to go and lie down on top of the bed. I don't want to go to bed until Spike gets back, but lying on top of the covers, fully clothed, doesn't count, does it?

I go into the hallway, and, out of habit, go to check the door is locked. As I reach for the handle, someone turns it from the outside, so I step back, out of the way, ready to defend myself.

When the door opens, I'm surprised. Of all the people likely to be letting themselves into my home, I think she's about the least likely. Lilah Morgan.

She holds her hands up in a defensive gesture saying, "Hold on there, Slayer. There're some things you need to hear, and then I'll be gone."

I look at her for several moments, wondering at the nerve that would bring her here. I'm surprised I haven't hit her already, and I try to work out why. It occurs to me that she's changed since I last saw her. Then, she was all confident arrogance. Now, she's … well, if I didn't know better, I'd say she looks scared.

"This had better be good," I reply, taking on a defensive stance. "And I can always get with the causing you pain afterwards."

"Can we sit down?" she asks, and again I'm struck with how different she is.

I nod, and gesture her towards the living room. Once in there, she takes off her jacket, and her bare arms are covered with strange black symbols.

"Not your usual ," I comment, nodding towards her arms.

"Well, you're right, but I thought it suited me better than the alternative."

"Which is?"

"Battered, bruised and screaming in pain?"

"Is that supposed to protect you from me?" I ask in total disbelief.

"No, it's supposed to protect me from something I'm actually afraid of."

Ok, not sure what's going on now, but she's got my attention.

"You said you had something to say," I remind her.

"Yes," she agrees. "And it's important."

"So, talk."

And she does.

"I'm a simple gal really. Knew what I wanted, and that was power. Wanted to make sure I would never be dependent on another human being. I wanted to be my own person, and I honestly didn't care much if I hurt someone else on the way. It's a simple life, really. Keeps the options straightforward."

I haven't said anything, but maybe the fact that I'm tapping my foot impatiently has given her the impression that I'm waiting for this to be worth listening to.

"I've done things that would upset most consciences. I've done things that would turn most stomachs. And, you know what? I've never regretted it. Never. And then, out of the blue, I get some instructions, and I can't do it. Not only can't I do it, but I can't come up with a single alternative that would pacify the Senior Partners. They're adamant that there's only one way, and all my suggestions were ignored."

She stops again as if she's still struggling to understand this strange aberration in her personality.

"What did they ask you to do?" I demand, although I've already got an idea.

"They told me to take Gina, and deliver her to a holding dimension. They needed to have a lever for you since Spike was clever enough to find a way past the compulsion of the amulet."

"But you took her, anyway."

"Yes, I did. I took her, but I hid her. It was an impulse thing. I couldn't do that to Wes. And before you start thinking it, I haven't gone soft. I don't love him, never did. But … there's something about him. You know? Something sort of old world noble, and I just couldn't do that to him."

"So where is she?"

"She's safe. Really. It would be better if you don't try to find her. When it's safe, those who're keeping her for me will know, and they'll be in touch."

"But, what's to stop the Senior Partners from finding you and getting the information from you?"

"Well, there's the latest accessory in being inconspicuous," she says as she glances at the marks on her arms.

"They hide you?"

"Yes. And you'd better hope they're good, because they're what I used to hide Gina too."

"So that's your plan. You hide until it's all gone quiet, and then you go back to business as usual."

She looks at me in frank disbelief.

"You don't know the Senior Partners at all, do you?"

I assume that's one of those questions that don't need an answer, so I don't attempt one.

"They won't forgive this. There isn't any way I can get back after this."

"So you're planning on, what, hiding out for the rest of your life? No, wait, you're not alive."

"What I'm planning on is using my escape plan."

"You've got an escape plan?"

"Well, yeah. Wes got me thinking. Back then, he tried to burn my contract, tried to set me free. And I thought, maybe, there'd come a time when I needed to get out. But they own me. They've got my soul, and there's no way I can ever get it back. Wes doesn't know it, but he did the research, or most of it. I came up with a way to get out, but it means I get right out."

"What do you mean, 'right out'?"

"It means I just won't exist any more. No body, no soul, no memories, no Lilah. It just extinguishes everything that makes me me. And you know, since I died, nothing has the same meaning. It's been a bit like sitting down to the most amazing banquet and finding it all tastes of sawdust."

"So, you destroy yourself. What do you want, a medal? Because …"

"Slayer, I'm not going to waste any more time on this. I need you to believe that Gina is safe. Personally, I don't care about the girl. She's nothing to me, but I couldn't be responsible for the pain it would cause Wesley if she was hurt. So, I did what I did. Now, if you take her from where she's safe, that's on your conscience, not mine."

"It's not that simple," I argue.

"No, really, it is."

And to her, I've got no doubt that's true.

She stands up then, and reaches over to where she left her jacket, and takes a small crystal out of the pocket. It's clear, maybe an inch and a half across and it could almost be diamond, but if it is, it's got a huge flaw in the centre. The innermost part of the stone is an inky black mixed with a sickly green, and it's roiling about in there. Lilah's staring at it, as if transfixed.

"Not exactly pretty, is it?" she comments, but she's not really talking to me.

"What are you going to do?" I ask.

She answers, but again, I don't think she's talking to me.

"It's my essence. It needs to be kept somewhere, or it will cease to be. It took me a good deal of bribery to get it in one of these, but, like I said, I needed an escape route. All I have to do is let it out into the air, and I'll be gone. Even my soul will just cease to exist."

She takes one last look at the crystal before closing her hand around it.

"Tell Wes to hang in there. Tell him, … tell him, … it's sometimes the strangest things that come back to bite you."

With that, she grips the crystal tighter, and I see her wince in pain. I wonder what she's doing, because I don't believe she's going to be able to crush that stone. My eyes are on her hand, and then I see the blood start to seep from her closed fist. She opens her hand again, and I can see it. The blood, from several deep wounds on her hand, is eroding the crystal, as if it's acid, thinning out the barrier between her essence and the world. And then, the first gap in the barrier appears, and the greeny black stuff starts to leak out, but it never makes it. No sooner does it emerge, than it disappears. It only takes about a minute, and it's all gone, and when I look up, so is Lilah.

I stand there in shock for a moment, almost unable to take in what I've seen. And then I notice the jacket, still lying on my sofa where she threw it. It looks so odd there, like a bad memory, so I pick it up intending to put it straight into the trash. But there's something odd about it – it seems strangely heavy. I frisk the jacket, trying to find what's there, and I feel something hard and heavy in one of the pockets. I turn the jacket upside-down over the sofa, and watch as something falls from the pocket. I gaze at it in disbelief for a second before picking it up. I can only assume this is Lilah's way of persuading me that she's been telling the truth. I can't believe I've got it in my hand, but it's there, hard and solid. It's the controller for the amulet.

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