Chapter 6: Annoyances

The chair cracked and partially splintered against the floor, because the demon it was intended for had vanished. Dropping the damaged chair, Spike growled his fury at being left with nothing to fight. Beside him, Buffy looked similarly pissed off. The horror of the situation hadn’t sunken in for her yet; she was still running on pure instinct. The rest of the Scoobies looked similarly shocked, especially Anya, who after screaming Xander’s name now looked as if she couldn’t believe what she’d seen. Even after countless years of wreaking vengeance and horror, it never prepared you for the time when it was someone you cared about. Spike knew that particular lesson all too well.

“H-how did that happen?” Anya asked in disbelief.

“The demon was powerful,” Tara answered. “And it seemed to know just where to materialize. It didn’t hesitate.”

“Are you saying it purposely wanted Xander?” Anya asked in alarm. “Why would it want Xander? I’m supposed to be the only one who wants Xander!”

“He had the orb,” Willow said suddenly. She raised it, holding it tightly with both hands. “Maybe it wanted the orb.”

Angel surfaced again now that there was no immediate need for his vampire counterpart, though he had to fight a little to get forward because of Spike’s anxiety over the situation. “It was a Vishnak demon,” he told everyone. “They are already fairly powerful with magic. And they know what they want. I’ve never known them to use any type of enhancements, though I’ll admit to little experience. Vishnaks rarely show up here.”

“They feel that this dimension is beneath them,” Anya said, her gaze on nothing in particular. “And he didn’t seem to be looking for the orb.” She looked at everyone again pleadingly. “We have to find him. He can’t be dead. Do a spell Willow. Find him.”

“But if they aren’t that common here, Xander may not even be here anymore,” Willow protested. “I’m not sure I can find him in another dimension.”

“Well use that,” Anya said as she pointed to the orb in Willow’s hands. “You said it enhances magical powers. Well, do it! Get powerful and find Xander before he gets used in some awful ceremony or something.”

“Anya, we can’t be sure of what this will do,” Tara said. “We’ll find another way.”

“There’s no time,” Anya protested.

“There might be some time,” Angel said. “If it wanted to kill him, it probably would have done so as soon as it….”

“Probably?” Anya interrupted. “You have to be more certain than probably.” She seemed to be on the verge of losing what little remained of her composure.

“I don’t think it wants to kill Xander,” Buffy said suddenly. She held a piece of paper in her hand and now lifted it for everyone else to see. “This writing is weird and… magic.” She wrinkled her forehead and her mouth in confusion. “I only seem to understand it when I read it, otherwise it looks like gibberish if I’m just glancing at it.”

“Okay, okay we get it. Magic writing,” Anya said impatiently. “Some demons are actually clever. What does the damn thing say?”

Buffy took a breath as if trying to reign in her temper. Angel noticed and put a hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

“It says that they have Xander and we’ll get him back when they get what they want from us.”

“And what do they want?” Willow asked.

“It doesn’t say exactly. Only that they’ll let us know soon and that they need the witches to get it.”

“But w-why would they need us?” Tara asked. “They are already powerful. We saw that. Their magic is more advanced than ours.”

“I don’t know,” Buffy replied. “Maybe only a human or non-demon can get whatever it is.”

“Like if there is a protection spell,” Anya said. “But that could be dangerous. What if they want something demons shouldn’t have? I don’t trust this. I still say we find him.”

“I don’t know what choice we have,” Willow said. “My power can’t defeat theirs. And we have to get Xander from them. Did it mention when we’ll know what they want?”

“We have two days,” Buffy answered solemnly. “If we don’t find an alternate solution by then, we’ll have to consider their offer.”

“Then we do what we can until then,” Willow said

“And rest,” Buffy said. “That’s the P.S. That we should rest, because we’re gonna need all our strength.”

“But we can’t stop looking,” Anya pleaded.

“And we can’t go without sleep. If we need to fight…” Buffy began.

“We’ll take turns,” Angel said, though he sounded doubtful. He couldn’t imagine anyone would be getting much sleep.

“I need to kill something first,” Buffy said. “Sorry guys, but maybe I can beat some info out of something.”

“Yes, go Buffy,” Willow said with an understanding nod. “We know it’s what you have to do. And if you find something out…”

“You’ll be the first to know.” Buffy turned to Angel. “You wanna come?”

“Don’t think I could say no if I wanted to,” Angel answered.

Buffy reached up and rubbed his head soothingly. “The demons restless up there?”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Angel answered. He checked his pockets for weapons while Buffy armed herself from the stash in the shop.

“You guys be careful,” Buffy warned. “Maybe put up a protection spell that specifically blocks these guys out or something so they don’t get anyone else.”

“Good idea,” Tara said. “And maybe some kind of warning spell in case they’ve got other demons working for them.”

Buffy’s head suddenly shot up from her search in the weapons chest. “Could these be the demons who might bring back Angelus?”

“And what if that’s what they want us to do?” Willow asked in alarm. “What if what we do to save Xander causes Angelus to return?”

“Shit,” Buffy swore uncharacteristically. “There better be some demons out there with info tonight or I swear they’ll be making it up by the time the morning comes.” Without another word, she stormed out of the magic box, Angel following right behind her.

He almost felt sorry for whatever demons lay in Buffy’s path tonight.

*********

Gnash chuckled, glad that he’d been able to witness that last little bit of the human gang’s misery. Oh what interesting conclusions they came to: in some ways wrong, but in others right, and just enough of both to make their task almost impossible without using his little gift. The demon they saw would cause Angelus to return, just as they’d concluded, but only because it was him. They thought it was a Vishnak though, because that’s what his disguise told them, so they’d be blocking the wrong type of demon.

Gnash knew he was safe for now. And the note he’d left them had been a last minute idea, but surprisingly, a good one. He wanted to let them know Xander was still alive so they wouldn’t give up. Now they had enough hope to keep trying, and eventually someone was going to cave in and use the power they had in their hands as long as they thought they had a chance to save him.  And if they thought cooperating with the Vishnak would bring back Angelus… Gnash smiled. Now they had even more reason to need the power the orb could provide. Soon it would seem to be the only way to find their friend before their forty-eight hours were up and they’d have to make a deal. It was too bad for them Angelus would be coming back anyway, and too bad for them that once the orb was activated, whoever got the orb’s power would also get it’s darkness.

Gnash couldn’t wait.

*********

Angelus snarled as another rock smacked into him, this one hitting his arm. He’d learned hours ago that he couldn’t retaliate, at least not physically. Anything he held or threw wouldn’t pass through the protective barrier surrounding Xander. Even hitting a rock towards the boy using something else didn’t work. It seemed that his essence traveled with whatever projectile he tried and set the magic off, causing an annoying sound as the barrier deflected it. He was seriously considering wringing Gnash’s neck when the demon next arrived.

As another rock bounced off his head, he decided it was time to retaliate again in the only way he could. His last attack, describing Angel’s first night with Buffy in exquisite detail, had been quite satisfying. He turned gold eyes on the man.

“If I were you, I’d be thinking of ways to save her rather than getting me pissed off, because when I get pissed off, I’ll have to take it out on someone, and if not you…” He smiled then. So what if he planned on playing with his food no matter what Xander did? The boy didn’t have to know that.

“Buffy can take care of herself,” Xander said. He stuck his chin up, looking confident in that assessment.

“I wasn’t referring to Buff. I was referring to the tasty morsel that should be arriving fairly soon.”

“How would a ‘tasty morsel’ get here?” Xander asked, using air quotes to surround the quoted words.

“Same way you did. I figure it’ll be a young gal this time.” He stood up and sauntered over to Xander. “I suppose you could throw your body over hers, use your barrier to protect her. That is if she’d let you.” He gave him a doubtful, mocking expression. “Of course that might get uncomfortable after a while, for her as well as you. She being all suffocated beneath your weight, and you having to be pressed up against all that young flesh. You’ll probably get a…”

“Shut up!” Xander snapped.

Angelus chuckled, enjoying himself.

“Well, I’m not the one stuck here in this Hell dimension.” Xander trailed off as Angelus raised his eyebrows and gestured around dramatically, his face amused. He seemed to reconsider. “Well, all right, I guess I am, but you’ve been here longer, and I’ll be out of here in no time.”

“Because you think your little gang of do-gooders will come to the rescue?”

“Oh, I know they will.” The boy actually managed a defiant glare.

 Angelus chuckled again. “Once I’m back home, and I expect that’ll be soon, getting you back will be way down on their list of priorities, boy. They’ll have other problems. Would you like me to tell you what I plan to do?”

Xander snorted. “No, because I’m sure it would bore me to death. You evil dead types always have the same plans. ‘I’m going to destroy the world.’ As if that one’s never been tried before.”

“Nah, I did that one already. This time I’d rather just destroy all of you instead and leave the world annihilation to someone else.” Angelus looked absently at his fingernails. “It’ll be nice to get my bare hands on them, but since I’ll be here a little longer, I’ll settle for getting my hands on my next meal.” He looked at Xander again with an evil smile. “I do hope she’s pretty.”

“No, that’s not gonna happen. I won’t let it.”

The boy looked worried, and Angelus gave himself a moment to gloat. “You can’t stop me forever. All I’ll need is time.” He leaned close. “You’ll have to fall asleep eventually. I’ll just need one small opening to grab her.”

“No!” Xander yelled. “I’ll figure something out.”

“Oh I’m sure you will,” he mocked. “Better get to thinking then. Who knows how much time you’ll have before she arrives?”

“You just wait. I’ll find a way so you can’t get her! That is if there is even a ‘her’. You’re probably making it all up…” he heard Xander protest as he turned his back on the young man and walked away. He didn’t expect any more rocks thrown at him for quite a while.

*********

The bus pulled into Sunnydale well after midnight, the vehicle’s lurching halt jostling awake any passengers who had been exhausted enough or crazy enough to fall asleep during the ride. With a surreptitious sweep of his eyes, one young man checked to see if any other passengers planned to disembark, but no one seemed to be doing more than shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

“Sunnydale Station,” the driver announced. Anyone listening hard enough might have thought his tone uncertain. The initiated ones, the ones who were familiar with this town, knew it should be.

The young man rose and lugged the large pack from the seat beside him. When he’d boarded, the driver had insisted it go below with the luggage, assuring him that he’d personally make sure he got it out for him when they reached his stop. Upon hearing his destination, however, the man had suddenly recanted and let him keep the bag instead. It had been just as well, because the boy hadn’t been about to part with it. Now he slung the pack over his shoulder and walked down the narrow aisle without making eye contact with any of the other passengers. The driver opened the door for him without a word.

The street was deserted as the bus pulled away, but that didn’t surprise the young man. No one knew he was here, not yet anyway. Soon enough that would change. He looked up and down the street, instinctively making a mental note of all the shadows and hiding places before he started off down the pavement without a second glance. He knew what monsters lurked in the dark shadows, but he wasn’t afraid of them. Shaking his long hair from his eyes, Conner shifted his pack, and a contemptuous, almost feral smile crossed his lips. Soon enough the things in the dark would be afraid of him.

 

TBC

 

 

Slight warning – This chapter contains some dark situations.

Chapter 7: Power

Flashlight in hand, Conner scrutinized the old, deserted mansion, taking notice of every detail. There were little signs of him… and the other… everywhere. There were even signs of Spike, but somehow Conner got the feeling that this place never felt like home to the younger vampire.

Maybe someday he’d ask Spike for the whole story if he got the nerve, or if he wanted to get a good sparring session out of him. A smirk forming on his lips at the very thought, Conner was momentarily distracted from his exploration as his mind wandered to the last few months. He enjoyed sparring with the vampire. They shared a mutual respect. Spike might often use the words “boy” and “kid” when addressing him, but he always treated him as an equal. Others in his life often went out of their way to avoid those terms, yet all too often it was only lip service. He much preferred the moniker of “kid” to being treated as one.

His departure from L.A. amidst much adult disapproval had only been the latest example. Though he’d argued fairly convincingly that he’d been fighting demons longer than most of them put together, he’d still gotten the “you’re too young” lecture and the “you’re staying right here so Angel doesn’t have to worry” admonishment. They’d even tried locking him in and watching him like a hawk. That stopped him for about half a day. Escaping from a locked room was nothing compared to surviving some of the tests Holtz put him through. It just went to show, that they hardly knew him at all.

Conner sighed and returned to the task at hand. After checking the place thoroughly, he finally dropped his weapons bag in a bedroom upstairs and made himself somewhat comfortable on the bed. He didn’t bother to get under the covers or get undressed except for removing his shoes. Those he tossed on the floor after retrieving the knife he had stashed in the left one. That he placed beside his head on the vacant pillow. Some kids liked to sleep with a teddy bear or a pet to keep them company and make them feel safe. He’d take the comfort of his knife any day.

Conner stared up at the dark ceiling, thinking about tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d find his dad. That thought in his head, he drifted off into a light sleep that would last until morning.

*********

Xander felt completely useless. He’d tried and tried to come up with a good plan to counter Angelus, but in the end he’d come up empty. Not that it mattered anyway except as a reminder to his bruised ego. Gnash had made it nearly impossible for him to even try to save the girl. Xander gave a frustrated yell and slammed his fist against the dirt. Damn it! He would’ve at least liked a decent chance, but his bloodied leg and hands and his sprained ankle were testaments to the fact that his efforts only got him hurt.

And still she screamed.

The woman had materialized on top of one of the jagged rock formations. An electric hum and a flash had accompanied her arrival, even though such indications hadn’t really been necessary. Angelus had scented her almost immediately. He’d given Xander a knowing smirk and raised his eyebrows.

“Looks like whatever you had planned won’t make a difference. Dinner is served,” he’d taunted, and taken off towards the rocks.

That had been almost an hour ago. It‘d taken Angelus only a few moments to scale the rock outcropping and reach the top. The pleading and screaming had been going on ever since.

Xander had tried for half an hour to scale the rocks, but without Angelus’ strength and abilities, he’d only managed to get half way up before sliding down again. By then he’d known it was likely too late anyway. He’d heard her pitiful cries and knew what the vampire had been doing to her.

Now Xander wished it would only end soon and that Angelus wouldn’t remind him of his failure or describe exactly what he’d done to the poor girl when he came back down. It was wishful thinking, he knew. The likelihood of getting even one of those wishes was as remote as his chances of getting out of here anytime soon.

And still she screamed.

*********

It was only them now. Willow looked at her lover, admiring the spill of her hair across the ancient pages of text and the steady rise and fall of her chest. Tara had fallen asleep just a few moments ago after yet another lead had run dry. Their attempt at a locator spell, the first thing they’d tried after their short nap, had yielded them nothing either. Their magic just wasn’t strong enough.

Buffy and Angel’s patrol had similarly turned up nothing in the way of information, though it had allowed her friend to finally sleep, mostly due to exhaustion. Many vampires and demons had paid with their lives to get Buffy to that much-needed state. Angel went with her to rest only because Spike had driven their shared body into the same drained state as well as sustained a few minor injuries that required rest to heal. Willow envied their ability to let exhaustion give them peace, even temporarily.

Anya had been harder to convince. After finding her buried in books when they returned from their short rest, Tara had finally persuaded her that if she got some sleep, she’d be of a sharper mind to talk to her demon contacts the next day and ask for information. Well, that and the mild spell she’d used to make Anya drowsy. They’d placed her on the couch in the training room where she’d slept until an hour ago. She’d left to contact her demon friends without a word. Despite all the times Willow had wished Anya would be quiet, the silent departure had unnerved her.

Now it was their turn for rest again. She could hear Buffy and Angel returning from the cellar below, reminding her that it was now mid-morning. With careful hands she brushed the hair back from Tara’s face and called to her softly. Her girlfriend roused, only a little startled, and smiled at Willow sadly.

“Time for us to sleep again, baby.”

Tara nodded and rolled her shoulders and neck, stretching sore muscles as she rose from her chair. “Maybe we’ll have a better chance when our minds are refreshed.”

Wishing she shared her confidence, Willow forced a reassuring smile in response. “I’m sure we will,” she said, but she didn’t believe it. Keeping the smile plastered on her face, she quickly explained to Buffy and Angel which books they’d gone through and gave them hasty goodbyes and words of encouragement.

Only she knew she didn’t expect them to find anything, and that after a few hours sleep, she planned her own information gathering foray that would likely make that problem moot anyway. If all went as planned, she’d wake before Tara and conduct a little magical inquiry. Tara might be able to read auras, but Willow had a few skills up her sleeve, and she would use them to find out something about that orb. Xander’s life likely depended on it, and she had no intention of letting him down.

*********

If there was any way to send encouragement across space, Gnash would’ve given almost anything right now to make it so. As it was, his growl of frustration practically shook the walls, and his taloned fingers twitched in their desire to give a prodding nudge. The red witch was so close, so close to activating the orb, but he could do nothing except watch through his little window and grind his teeth. Sometimes not acting directly had its disadvantages. The payoffs, though, they were always so sweet. Gnash smiled evilly. Nothing felt as good as getting away with something scott free, and that was a pleasure reserved only for a master manipulator.

He refocused his concentration as he almost lost the image. His anticipation was making it difficult to remain calm enough. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a moment and hoped he wouldn’t miss anything while he centered himself. Then he slowly opened his eyes and continued his surveillance.

*********

A power seemed to seethe just out of reach, tantalizing her with its potential. It manifested itself as a sort of tingling energy that sent shivers down her spine and caused the hairs on her skin to stand on end. It was thrilling and seductive, and Willow wanted it.

She hadn’t thought she’d be able to see so much of the orb’s potential just by a simple, meditative visualization exercise, but the fact that she could only furthered her belief that it held great power. And it was power that she needed to help find Xander.

Her breath catching in her throat, Willow pulled back mentally from the orb. The seductive pull still called to her, but there was something else too, something foreboding and dark. She knew this. It‘d gotten her before. The last time she’d been drunk on that much power, she’d hurt Dawn and had almost lost Tara, but she was different now, she reasoned. She’d come back from that, learned from her mistakes, and this time she’d be careful. Evening was coming and in a few hours, their first day would be up with only one more day to go.

Her trembling finger reached out to touch the orb’s cold surface, and she admonished herself for the reaction. She’d held the thing already. Why should touching it now be any different? Because now you are open to the possibility, she answered herself, and that makes all the difference. Caressing the surface carefully, she closed her eyes. It always amazed her what she could see with her eyes closed. Flashes of dark danced in her mind’s eye, the idea contradictory at the same time as it made sense, and a cold jolt shot up her arm. Her eyes flew open as she jerked her hand away. Frowning, she snorted and tried again. Strangely, the effect wasn’t as bad this time. The flashes she saw were brighter and the cold was replaced by a cool tingle. See not so bad, she told herself, I can do this if I have to. Almost reluctantly, her fingers drew away from the orb.

She exhaled and glanced towards the bedroom door, listening for any stirrings of Tara. All was quiet, so she looked at her watch. She had approximately one hour to go over the spell. If no one had found out any information, Willow wanted to be prepared to do whatever she had to do to save Xander.

*********

The sun cast its last rays of light over downtown Sunnydale. It was that long shadow time of day when the sun slipped towards the horizon and the sunbeams were their darkest gold. The irony that she thought this the most beautiful time of day wasn’t lost on Tara. Most people thought she preferred the early morning hours, the dawn, and perhaps she did, but this time, the hour before sunset, inspired her the most. That it happened to come just before one of the most unsettling times of day in this town was just an unhappy coincidence.

On the subject of unsettling, Tara thought as she let her gaze slip to the woman accompanying her. Willow hurried towards their meeting at the magic shop with an uncharacteristic nervousness. Yes, things were tense and this would likely be their last group meeting before they once again separated to each do their part, but this didn’t totally explain her lover’s distance, both emotional and physical. Tara had expected that Willow would be leaning on her for support, much like she had earlier in the day as they’d gone home for their much needed rest. She had the uneasy suspicion that something strange had happened that she somehow missed. Resisting the urge to read Willow’s aura, she hurried to walk alongside her.

“Do you think Anya found out anything from her demon contacts?” she asked.

Willow startled at her question, causing Tara to frown. “What, um, I don’t know. Demons aren’t always so reliable I’ve always thought.”

“Well, that’s true, but maybe she got lucky,” Tara ventured hopefully. Not that it mattered. Willow was once again distracted and anxious, grabbing at the magic shop door without even acknowledging Tara’s reply.

Something was definitely wrong.

*********

“Nothing!” Anya spat out the word like it was a curse. “All the walking, all the groveling, and they couldn’t tell me anything.” She stared at the assembled group accusingly as if they were somehow partly to blame.

Angel wrinkled his brow. “That’s surprising. The demon community is usually pretty good at knowing each other’s business.”

Buffy snorted. “Yeah, but it usually takes a few punches to the nose to get the goods.” She seemed to be lost in memories of said times before returning her attention to the group.

“Well yes, but that mostly only worked for Spike,” Anya said with an eye roll. “And no demon gives up that much information without an ulterior motive.”

“Yeah, like our cold, hard cash,” Buffy said.

“Oh yes, that was the only reason Spike spilled the beans,” Anya said dubiously.

“Well, when he was evil,” Buffy protested, obviously not comfortable with the direction of this conversation.

Anya looked at her. “Oh yeah, when he was evil. Like there still weren’t enough sparks flying between you two even then to start a bonfire. Does a certain spell of Willow’s ring any bells?”

“That was the spell,” Buffy protested, blushing visibly. “And this is so not what we need to be discussing now.” She lifted her chin. “You’re just mad because you couldn’t find anything out.”

“Damn right I’m mad! I need this information! Doesn’t over a thousand years of dedicated service dishing out bloody vengeance count for anything? I mean, you’d think I’d earned some little consideration. Instead, nothing.” She sighed. “Although there was one demon who seemed to be lying. I think he knew more than he was telling.”

“How could you tell?” Willow asked.

“After you’ve lived as long as I have you know the signs. But I also knew that no matter what I tried or threatened he wouldn’t spill.”

“Why?” Tara asked.

“Because some things are worse than potentially being killed,” Angel said knowingly.

“Exactly,” Anya agreed. “I have a feeling that whatever this is, it’s big, it’s evil, and it’s very powerful, and the only reason we haven’t seen more of it yet is because it doesn’t want to be seen.” Her eyebrows furrowed a bit. “One odd thing though.” She addressed Angel. “No one else had seen any Vishnak demons. Aren’t they usually fairly conspicuous on the rare occasion they do show up?”

“Yes,“ Angel answered. “They usually create some havoc when they appear.”

“So either we have very restrained Vishnak demons…” Willow began, but stopped when Anya shook her head. “Or they’re working with someone powerful enough to control them,” she concluded.

“Or they’re the warm-up act, the diversion,” Buffy supplied.

“Oh,” Tara said. “Then I don’t want to see the main act.”

“I do,” Buffy said. “At this point I’d take a nice, visible foe. Something I could fight. Something I could kill. Right now all I know is that the demon and vampire activity seems to be up a little, but none of them know anything and there’s no organization to it.”

“No apparent Big Bad that their toadying for then,” Willow observed with disappointment.

“No. Just random pains in my butt that get us no where closer to finding Xander, and who know nothing helpful. If this keeps up, I’m going to have to patrol again soon. We have to find Xander, but I can’t let the vampires just roam free in the meantime.”

“Then you need my help.” The voice from the doorway wasn’t loud, but it was confident.

Angel looked up and only partially hid his surprise. “Conner, what are you doing here?”

*********

Gnash’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the boy who now came into view in his observation glass. This was no ordinary boy, he could tell. He emanated power and strength that was not entirely of this world. He was definitely dangerous.

The demon growled under his breath. He’d been aiding demon activity subtly in the last couple of days, both to cover for his own foraging activity when supplying Angelus with fresh blood and to distract Buffy and her vampire with the need to patrol. Now, though, he was going to have to step up his efforts: something he didn’t have time for right now. He had to prepare for the next step in case the gang of do-gooders didn’t activate the orb, maybe even up the stakes a bit. That was going to take careful planning, and for that he needed to focus, not worry about a new player this late in the game.

He only needed to hear a little more to learn just how dangerous this boy was. Grunting in frustration, he waved his hand and let the glass go dark. His plans would have to wait. Right now he needed more distractions. He needed this new boy out of the big picture, and to do that he needed demons to keep him busy. It was time to open a little tear in the time fabric. He’d choose a nice, close dimension that wouldn’t take too much effort. Now where was that Scrivener amulet? He didn’t have all night.

*********

Conner strolled from the doorframe and crossed to Angel. “What do you think I’m doing here, Dad?” The last word was said deliberately, almost defiantly. “I’m here to help. You need demon fighters. Here I am.”

“But you’re so young. Just a kid,” Anya said.

Sneering a bit, Conner looked at her with the indignation only a teenager could affect. “I’ve never been a kid.” Then he dismissed Anya, instead turning back to Angel. “Right, Dad?”

“You were always something more,” Angel assured him with a smile of fatherly pride.

Conner smiled lightly then reached out and cuffed his father on the side of the head. The action startled everyone. The boy smirked amiably as Angel’s face changed. “Hey, evil demon, how’s my dad treating you?”

“Same as always,” Spike replied, cuffing Conner in return.

“Ow, jerk!” Conner complained.

“Brat,” Spike countered. He sniffed conspicuously. “You’ve been a busy boy today. Out harassing the demon population, I suspect.”

“Well, I gotta have some fun. Why, you up for a round?”

The vampire shook his head and his face changed back to his human features. “You can fight with Spike later, Conner,” Angel admonished.

Conner pouted. “Can we spar with swords?”

“No! No real damage. I’ve got to stay healthy….

“Hey, wait a minute,” Anya interrupted, gesturing exaggeratedly between Angel and Conner. “Spike hit him! He’s not supposed to be able to do that.”

“The chip doesn’t work on me,” Conner said with a shrug. “Must be all that time I spent in Quortoth. Or maybe I’m not quite human.”

Buffy couldn’t take her eyes off him. She’d heard so much about him, but this was the first time she’d actually seen Conner. What she’d heard definitely didn’t translate into the young man she saw in front of her. When Spike had said “ferocious little fighter,” she hadn’t imagined the thin, lanky youth with the delicate face that she now saw. She supposed that was something they had in common. Words from Tara startled her from her thoughts.

“You’re human,” Tara told him. “But there is something more.” When everyone turned to her, she dipped her head shyly. “I-I can tell. I can read people.”

“That’s right,” Willow said proudly. “She can read their auras”

Conner tried to pretend indifference, even though his initial facial expression had clearly shown interest. He seemed distracted though as his eyes moved to Buffy.

Buffy knew she’d been caught staring and wasn’t about to turn away now. “You must be Conner,” was all she could think to say. “Angel’s told me a lot about you. Spike a little too.”

Conner stared at her. “Then you must be Buffy. Spike tells me I fight like you.” He looked her over. “Now I’m not so sure whether that was a compliment or not. I thought you’d be taller.”

Buffy just smiled. “So do the demons. I thought you’d be...”

“Broodier? More glowery?” Anya supplied.

“No,” Buffy said. “Darker. Dark hair, dark eyes.”

Angel touched his son’s hair. “He gets this from his mother.”

“Dad,” Conner complained, lightly shooing Angel’s hand away.

“And he broods just fine. At least according to Spike,” Angel added.

“Do not,” Conner complained, making it obvious to Buffy that he did. “And I didn’t come here to get picked on. Just tell me where to find him.”

“Where to find who?” Anya asked.

“My other Father,” Conner said, his tone almost annoyed.

“It’s not that easy,” Angel told him. “We don’t know where he is right now, and we don’t think he’s working alone.”

“All the more demons for me to kill.”

“Is he really that good at killing demons?” Willow asked.

“He’s really that good,” Angel replied solemnly.

“Then you take him out and show him where to go,” Buffy said to Angel with a decisive nod. “Tara and Willow, I need you to come with me. I’ve got to pick up Dawn from her friend Mandy’s. I need you to put a protection spell around the house. Something that’ll keep out demons.”

“What about Dad?” Conner asked.

“Yeah good point. Oh, I know.” She turned to Willow and Tara. “Could you make it so that only beings with a human soul can come in? That’ll cover all of us and Angel.”

“We can do that,” Tara said.

“Good. Okay Anya, you…”

“Keep researching, I know.”

“And we’ll be back as soon as we can,” Buffy added. “Though I might take one more crack at…. well, cracking heads in the seedier part of town before I get back here. I will find out something this time.”

With little further discussion, the group spilt up to pursue their own tasks: all different, but all in the service of a common goal.

*********

So we have some more help. Score one for the good guys, Willow thought. Then how come I don’t feel any better? She answered herself easily. Because no amount of demon hunting is going to bring us closer to finding Xander. No, that was up to her. And she better figure out a way quickly.

She went with Tara to Buffy’s. It would take a couple hours to set up a decent protection spell. Dawn, sensing the severity of the situation, helped them get things ready for the spell then retired to her room. Buffy, after eating a cursory something she dug out of the refrigerator, said her goodbyes and reassurances to Dawn before heading for downtown Sunnydale’s disreputable part of town. The door banging shut and the lock clicking closed marked her departure. It was only them again. That made it difficult to hide.

“Honey, are you all right?” Tara asked as soon as they were alone.

Willow frowned. “No. My best friend is out there somewhere with God knows what happening to him, so a big ‘no’ to that, but if you are asking me if I can do the spell, then yes, I can.”

She nodded, and Willow tried a reassuring smile. Inside though, she wanted only to get this spell done then find an excuse for Tara to remain behind while she went to the Magic Box. Just an hour alone in the training room: that was all she wanted. Then she’d have all the power she needed. She briefly considered caving in and telling Tara her plan, but she stuffed that thought down quickly. Tara would never agree. She’d want to be cautious and there was no more time for that. Tara would have to be kept oblivious and here, but how?

Wracking her brain, Willow thought of something. Dawn needed dinner, and the rest of the gang could use some food. She’d have Tara call up for something or fix something for Dawn and bring some food to them as well. Fixing something would take longer and fit their budget better. Buffy’s job at the high school and Tara’s tutoring didn’t bring in much. Willow brought in what she could by hiring out her services as a computer nerd to needy college students, but still pizza and take out didn’t come cheap, so it shouldn’t take much convincing to get Tara to cook something. That decided, she smiled more broadly, her confidence somewhat restored. She was ready to do this protection spell. In a couple of hours, she’d be more than ready for the next spell.

They completed the protection spell in only an hour and a half.

*********

Tara smiled at Dawn as she ate. The girl attacked her dinner with the vigor of a teenager, tearing into her food as if she were starving.

“I’m glad you cooked. You’re so much better than Buffy,” the teen told her around a mouthful of chicken. “I can tell this is chicken and everything.”

“Now, Buffy can’t be that bad,” she replied with a chuckle as she packed the rest of the chicken into a large-sized plastic container.

“Compared to this?” Dawn chided, her eyebrows arching and her hand lifting the chicken as if in salute. “No contest.”

“Well I’m glad you approve,” Tara said as she took the potato salad out of the refrigerator. The green beans she’d given Dawn wouldn’t travel so well. The rest were just going to have to skip the vegetable this time. She packed the food in the car, carefully watching her surroundings as she did so then returned for her spell books. “You’re going to be okay, right?” she asked Dawn.

“I’ll be fine. No leaving the house, I promise. I’ll be staying right here under the protection of your spell.”

Tara gave her a stern look. “Not even if a puppy comes limping up the driveway, whimpering its little heart out.”

Dawn crossed her heart with an index finger. “I’ll go upstairs and put on my headphones, because I so would know that was a trap.”

“Good.” Tara said, and she believed it, at least for a moment. As she returned to the living room though, a strange feeling washed over her: an inexplicable dread that she didn’t understand. She looked around the room in dismay, trying to figure out what had spooked her. Then her eyes fell on the coffee table. A book was missing. She searched the room, but didn’t see it anywhere, knowing that she wouldn’t find it. Still that was okay, because there was the box, right where she’d seen it last, and… With increasing dread, Tara approached the ornate box. She didn’t want to open it, knowing that if she did the answer would be final. She had to though. She had to know, and the answer couldn’t wait. With trembling fingers she touched the lid, praying to whatever goddess would hear her that Willow wouldn’t, not now, not after what she’d almost done before. Her fingertips unhooked the clasp, and she flipped back the lid as if it would bite her. It didn’t, but the sight inside stung her just as much. Just as she’d feared, the box sat empty. The orb was gone.

TBC

 

Chapter 8: Setbacks

By the time she reached the street for the Magic Box, Tara had almost convinced herself that she’d only been paranoid. There could be a perfectly logical explanation as to why Willow had both the book and the orb and hadn’t given her any indication that she was taking them. Okay, okay, so there wasn’t really any. Tara would take even an illogical explanation at this point as long as it didn’t point to Willow doing something rash. They had a whole day left, and each of them had rested at least once. Surely Willow wouldn’t have panicked yet. With the added benefit of the food she now brought, they would certainly be in good shape to get some major inroads into their problem. As her thoughts dwelled on the food, though, it occurred to Tara whose idea it’d been to make the dinner and exactly what cooking that food had done. It had given Willow an excuse to leave ahead of her. Alone. When Xander’s life was on the line.

Her car wheels squealing from sudden acceleration, Tara raced the last two blocks to the shop, skidding to a stop in the first available parking space. Almost in defiance, she snatched the carrying basket of chicken and potato salad from the seat beside her as if the physical act of taking the food with her demanded that everything be okay. I bring food, therefore we will eat it, and all will be well, her brain supplied, and she vaguely recognized the panic of her thoughts. She slammed the car door without bothering to lock it and ran to the shop’s entrance. Fumbling a moment at the front door, she muttered, “Come on. Come on,” as she twisted the key in the lock and tried desperately to curb her growing fear. As she ran, the door closed behind her, mercifully locking on its own, because Anya would be upset if her store was left open. Now Tara knew she was losing it. She forced herself to come to a halt and take a breath. Putting the basket of food on the research table, she planted on a neutral face and asked Anya calmly, “Have you seen Willow?”

The worried look Anya gave her told Tara that her calm façade was crumbling.

“Don’t worry. Willow’s here. She’s right back there in the training room. Geesh, separate you two for…”

Tara didn’t catch the rest. The scent of magic in the air told her all she needed to know. Running to the training room door, she threw it open then hesitated. She knew she shouldn’t have been, so why was she so surprised to see Willow there in the middle of the training room floor, pentagram and candles around her, energy manifesting around her body in seductive swirls?

“Willow, no!” The words came just a moment before she rushed forward. Willow showed no reaction to her presence, though, even when she yelled her name again, not five feet from her. Willow’s chanting remained on the same even tone, as if she wasn’t even aware of anyone else’s presence. Panicking, Tara looked wildly around the room, trying to think of a safe way to end the spell and break the magic barrier, but a movement seen in the corner of her eye made her jerk her focus back to Willow and to the orb resting on its pedestal in the top triangle of the pentagram. There was something odd, something wrong with the orb. It looked almost alive. Tara had a sudden urge more powerful than any she’d ever felt. Without further thought, she reached through the magic barrier and grabbed the orb, smashing it against the floor.

Three screams echoed through the training room, bouncing off the walls and shattering what semblance of harmony remained in the night. The screams reduced to two, and finally to only one as Willow watched the shattered pieces of the orb infuse into Tara’s skin and the familiar, soft eyes turn a harsh, glowing green.

“Shh,” said a voice that sounded deceptively like Tara, but that Willow instinctively knew held none of her warmth. “Everything’s all right, baby.”

Willow didn’t know why she quieted like the voice asked her to, because nothing could be farther from the truth. Nothing was likely to be all right ever again.

*********

Gnash slipped off his chair. Few things surprised him, but that had been totally unexpected. And wonderful. He smiled evilly as he picked himself up off the floor and briefly considered reconnecting his window right away. He decided it wasn’t necessary; he could catch up in a moment. Right now he wanted a few moments to thoroughly gloat. He’d been sure that the red-haired witch would be ensnared by his orb’s trap, host to a powerful and insidious demon, but that it was the other instead was just too perfect. Though less powerful, she was the more level headed, and would likely be just as missed because of it. And the other witch would be consumed by guilt, its gnawing ache affecting her judgment and clouding her ability.

He leaned back and took a slow leisurely breath. His brief tearing of the dimensional barriers earlier today had allowed several nasty demons to slip through, and they were now merrily making their way about Sunnydale, keeping that odd, disconcerting Conner and his vampire father busy. He wasn’t sure why the strange boy concerned him so much, but of all the potential foes in this scenario, that one worried him most. Magical power he understood. Feelings he could manipulate. But that boy had strange motivations he couldn’t understand. They were even stranger than his vampire father’s.

Speaking of vampires, he supposed it was time to go bring Angelus something to eat again. It was also time for another distraction of sorts. Since the powerful witch was left on their side, he better give her something to use her powers on besides trying to save her lover too quickly. Well, since she wanted that annoying Xander back so badly, he supposed she’d use her powers for that. Besides, watching her try to decide what to do - save her lover or save her friend - would be amusing. He’d make it more difficult.

Taking a piece of cloth from his pocket, Gnash ran it casually through his fingers. It belonged to the boy, Xander, taken from his shirt last time he’d visited. Originally meant to be an indication that he had the boy, it would now serve another purpose. Using his abilities, he made sure it was clear, and there it was: a strong essence of the other dimension. The witch would be able to use this to track him… well as long as she had an amplifier. Gnash sighed. He almost hated to part with it, but he’d find another one. He picked up the gaudy trinket and donned his Vishnak demon disguise. Hmm, now what could he get her to do in order to earn his generous help? He’d think of something outrageous, then compromise, giving her the means to find Xander on her own as payment. So generous of him. Sometimes he was so good at this, he almost amazed himself. Well, he better hurry; his new ally would likely be arriving soon, and he couldn’t wait to meet her.

*********

Buffy had left Ms. Nice Gal about three exits back. Far past being moved by screams or pleading, she took to her task with cold efficiency. She wanted information, and she wanted it now. That she had to cause a few demons pain to get it no longer concerned her. Too many times she’d had to see her friends and loved ones scared or hurt. Both Giles and Spike had been tortured. Her mother and sister had been kidnapped to lure her into a trap. Cordelia and Willow had been taken for use as sacrifices. There was more, she was sure, but she didn’t want to be bothered and hell, that list was enough of an excuse right there. Xander was coming back, period, end of story, and woe be it to anyone or anything that denied her the means to do it. She pressed the cross onto the vampire’s chest again, almost mesmerized by the smoke rising from his skin. Predictably he screamed.

“I can keep this up all night,” she informed him. “I’m not even tired.”

“Come on, Slayer, I don’t know what you expect me to know…” He cut off, screaming instead as she put the cross to the back of his hand this time. He tried to twist his hand away, but both were held tight, bound at the wrists to a sturdy chair. Struggling for a moment, he tested the bonds then jerked his head up. His golden stare locked with hers.  “Look, I only know it has something to do with your pet, okay,” he said desperately. “And that’s only rumor. I don’t even know for sure.”

“I don’t have any pets,” Buffy said, her mouth quirking in genuine confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your vampire. Spike! Spike!” he said hastily.

With her cross hovering a mere inch from his skin, Buffy halted. She took the cross away, folded her arms across her chest, and scowled at him. “What about Spike?” She wasn’t about to explain to this vampire that Spike wasn’t just Spike, but Angel as well. She doubted that most of the vampire population was privy to that bit of information, and she intended to keep it that way.

“Word on the street is that there’s a demon out to get him.”

Buffy scoffed. “There’s almost always a demon out to get him. That’s nothing new.”

“This is a powerful one. Into magic.”

Buffy thought about the Vishnak demon and its powerful magic, but Angel had been right there when Xander was taken. If the demon had wanted Spike, why would it take Xander if Spike was right there? She decided to ask the question. Maybe she’d get lucky. “A Vishnak demon?”

“I don’t know what kind of demon, but Vishnaks… Well they are pretty rare. Good with magic, though,” he amended as he warily eyed the cross dangling from her fingers. “So it could be.”

Damn, he doesn’t know, Buffy thought.

“But Vishnaks tend to work in groups,” the vampire was continuing. “And it was my impression that this was a lone demon.”

Geesh, once you got them talking, then they won’t shut up, Buffy thought. Kinda like Spike, she added with a smirk. Must be a vampire thing.

“And Vishnaks are usually pretty flashy. Making trouble all over…”

Buffy looked at him almost murderously. “I know all that. I am the Slayer. I know a little about demons, you know.” She didn’t have to tell him that it was Anya and Angel that had filled her in. Better to keep her reputation intact. “So if you don’t have anything more to add that’s actually useful…” She removed a stake from her back pocket.

“Hey wait! You said I could go if I told you what I know, and I did that!”

Buffy sighed. Stupid vampires and their good memories. Well, at least this way, he could spread the word that she meant business. Maybe next time, she’d get her information easier. She wasn’t about to just let him go unscathed, however. “You know I can’t let you go scott free, though. What would the demons say?”

“That you are a fair, good guy who keeps your word?” the vampire asked hopefully.

“They’ll still say that. But this way they’ll also know I’m not a push over.” She put down the stake. “You’ll make sure to tell them that, right?”

“Sure, whatever you say, Slayer,” he promised with a sigh of relief.

Buffy almost felt bad that he was relieved. Almost. She picked up a nearby pipe and started breaking bones.

*********

Willow stood motionless, all her instincts having left her in the face of Tara’s transformation. She should have chanted a protection spell or a binding spell of some sort to keep Tara there until she could figure out what to do, but she couldn’t find her voice.

Anya broke the silence. “What is going on in here?” She stood uncertainly in the doorframe, glancing nervously from Willow to Tara.

“I have to go now,” Tara’s voice said. A wave of her hand shoved Anya out of the doorway, causing her to fall clumsily.

That was enough to break Willow out of inaction. “No, Tara, wait!” When Tara turned back to look, she raised her hand. “Thicken!”

Tara was caught momentarily until her eyes glowed even brighter and she spoke in a language so ancient, Willow couldn’t place it. The barrier shimmered and dissipated, and she walked from the room without any further acknowledgment. Usually one for self-preservation unless Xander was involved, Anya remained out of her way, even shrinking further from the unknown threat. Willow tried another spell, but this time her opponent was ready and deflected the magic before it even reached her. The backlash of her own spell knocked Willow over, leaving only Anya to watch Tara leave out the front door.

“What did you do?”

Perhaps because it was Anya asking, Willow bristled slightly at the insinuation that this was her fault, even if it was true. Then it really sunk in. “Oh, God, Tara.”

“Is obviously not herself,” Anya said as she moved further into the training room. “Now what did you do, because we’re going to have to do something about this and unless we know what we’re up against…”

“The orb,” Willow answered softly. “It was the orb.”

“Great,” Anya observed sarcastically. “Well, I guess we found out what was on that missing page, huh? Apparently the power comes from letting a demon in. Just great.”

“Look, not helping much,” Willow snapped. “Besides you were the one who was all for using it. ‘Use the orb Willow. Get powerful Willow, so we can save Xander’,” she added mockingly.

Anya huffed. “Oh, that’s really helping. Let’s mock the scared former demon. You’re the one who should’ve known better.”

Willow waved at her absently as if trying to disregard her. “Okay, we need to do a locating spell to find out where she went. And we need help. More resources. Find out how to undo the possession. We have to find out how to fix this.” Willow knew she was babbling to a hostile audience, but she couldn’t stop herself.

As if to confirm her thoughts, Anya said, “By all means, because every time you mess up with the magic, it’s so easy to fix.”

Willow glared at the other woman as she pushed past her. She rushed into the shop, grabbing distractedly at the books piled around. But after a minute she realized that her panic was causing her to reach out blindly with little purpose. Willow stopped and tried to calm herself. “Anya, I need your help. Will you help?”

“I’ll help,” Anya agreed, all fire gone from her now resigned voice. She moved grimly towards the books and started looking.

*********

Conner smirked as yet another demon exhaled its last, gurgling breath. Stepping back from the body, he looked into Angel’s eyes questioningly, and Angel knew he was looking for approval. He nodded, giving it. Over two hundred years later, and Angel still remembered that need for affirmation, the desire to see pride and acceptance in a father’s eyes. Conner was young and not yet ready to realize that most of the time you only had your own sense of worth to rely on. He would have time to learn that later.

“Where are all these demons coming from?” Conner asked as he prodded the strange creature’s body with his foot. He cocked his head to study it with a frown.

“I’m not sure,” Angel answered, “but I don’t think it’s a coincidence that they’re here now. I think someone is trying to keep us busy.”

“They’re doing a good job,” Conner noted. He took in a heavy breath and exhaled, watching with vague interest as the body starting fizzling and evaporating. “Should we be trying to find out what the real trouble is? What this is a diversion for?” he asked doubtfully.

Angel thought for a moment, aided by a feeling he interpreted as a “Hell, no!” from Spike. “Well, we can’t let these things run loose,” he reasoned. “And besides, that’s not what we do, is it?”

“Buffy did tell us to go kill the demons,” Conner agreed with an expression that most closely resembled relief.

Killing demons is what Conner knew. It made him feel useful. Angel knew it was too late to undo everything that Holtz had taught his son. It was better to let him know that what he could do was helpful rather than make him feel inadequate for the things he couldn’t do as well. Angel, himself, was glad that there was someone else to pick up the mental slack this time. Angelus may have been a planner, but Angel, and apparently Spike, preferred action. There seemed to be plenty of that tonight.

Conner’s head jerked up at the sound of running, inhuman feet. By the time Angel joined him, they were almost bowled over by two fleeing vampires. Angel reached out to clothesline one of them. Conner tripped the other. They sprawled on the damp earth of the cemetery amidst a flurry of curses.

“Are you insane?” one of them asked him.

“That one’s human,” the other observed as he sat up. He cocked his head towards Conner.

Angel vamped out, letting Spike come to the forefront. “You better not even consider touching him, mate.”

“Oh, hell, no. That’s him. That’s Spike,” the first vamp observed. He was the shorter of the two, but he looked somewhat meatier than his counterpart.

The second vampire growled, as he got up. “Well, he better tell his slayer that she’s crossed the line this time.”

Spike raised his eyebrows and cocked his head. “Oh, and how’s that?”

“She’s gone insane. We found Charlie babbling that the Slayer got him,” the shorter one said.

“She’d broken almost every bone in his body and left him there,” the other observed as if that was some incredibly rude breech of Slayer etiquette. “If I were you, Spike, I’d reconsider my options before she goes Charles Manson on you, next.”

Spike chuckled. “Newsflash, morons,” he told them as he discreetly pulled a stake. “She’s a vampire slayer. You’re vampires.”

“And you’re what? A fluffy, little bunny?” the shorter one observed incredulously. Then he snickered.

Spike staked him before he had a chance to finish his snicker. “Oops,” he said, though he didn’t sound or feel the least bit sorry. He turned gold eyes on the second vampire.

The remaining vampire, not being completely stupid, realized he was outnumbered. “Okay, um look. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“You do that just by being here, mate,” Spike observed. He casually flipped his stake. “But seeing as how you might be useful for spreading the word, I’ll let you go. For now.”

“Don’t do me any favors, traitor.”

Spike sighed heavily, looking like he was going let that roll off his shoulders, then he shrugged and slugged the guy instead. “Okay, I won’t,” he said to the downed vamp.

Conner arched his eyebrows and crossed his arms. “They just can’t help themselves, can they?”

Spike dragged the vampire back up, lifting his feet off the ground as he held him firmly around the neck. “Bloody stupid, vampires are today. Maybe the embalming fluid fries their brain or something?”

“I’ll have you know my sire buried me himself…”

“Don’t care,” Spike observed as he squeezed the vampire’s neck harder. “And I’d shut your gob if I were you. Slayer’s not the only one who can break bones. Now listen up! You tell your buddies that my slayer wants information, and those of you who have it, better give it up nice and easy, or we’ll both rip your limbs off and let you do a nice Monty Python’s Black Knight impersonation. Got it?”

The vampire nodded as vigorously as his position allowed, and Spike dropped him. Conner was at the ready to back him up with a battleaxe. The vampire gained his balance then stood there momentarily, almost as if he were frozen.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Um, go?” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. He watched the vampire rush shakily off into the night. “I give that one two months, tops.”

Conner nodded then looked up, sniffing the air. “Fun’s over,” he observed. “More demons are coming.”

Spike smirked around his fangs. “On the contrary, then. Fun’s just starting.” He patted Conner on the shoulder reassuringly before rolling his neck. Then he looked down and found the battleaxe Angel had brought, tested the balance out of habit, and braced himself for round two.

*********

Gnash popped into the Magic Box just as Willow and Anya had settled somewhat shakily down to research. Willow startled and raised her hand, eyes going black.

“Don’t,” Gnash told them. “Or you’ll never find your friend.” He hoped that his Vishnak demon glamour was similar enough to the one he’d used before. Sometimes he couldn’t remember all the gory details, and Vishnaks did differ from each other more than most demons did. This was especially true of the garish shock of hair which could come in a rainbow of colors atop their egg-shaped heads. Gnash often wondered if there was a preference among the demons for one color over another. Now though, he had other concerns.

“It hasn’t been forty eight hours,” Anya observed. Somehow despite the slight trembling in her voice, her tone sounded more annoyed than anything else.

“I didn’t want to wait anymore. Don’t you want your friend back?” he asked solicitously.

“What do you want?” Willow asked. Her tone was all business.

“A Fulgor amulet. Then I’ll bring you your friend.”

Anya’s mouth dropped open while Willow’s face furrowed in thought as she tried to place the object he had indicated. The former demon spoke first. “I want Xander back, yes, but you can’t have that. First of all, I don’t have one, and second…”

“It disintegrates things. And people,” Willow finished for her.

“So?” Gnash prompted.

“Well for one, it could disintegrate us,” Anya pointed out, “and ahem, I don’t have one,” she reiterated with a hint of that annoyance Gnash remembered from the night she’d accidentally popped in on him offering vengeance. He tried not to smile at the memory.

He made a show of being put out, sighing heavily. He really did enjoy impersonating Vishnaks, because they were such drama queens. Overacting was never a problem. “Fine, then, go ahead and put your friend’s life in mortal danger,” he huffed.

“We could give you a Sethoz stone,” Anya offered. “It makes you invisible for short periods of time.”

Gnash scrunched his forehead in thought. Actually that would be rather useful to him. He always did seem to be quite lucky in such matters. He smirked at the disapproving face the red-haired witch was making at Anya, as if the former vengeance demon didn’t know that what she offered had potential for trouble. Humans could be so condescending. Accepting Anya’s offer would be all the more sweet for making her the take charge woman of this encounter. He almost would’ve been inclined to accept anything she offered just for that reason alone. She might’ve regrettably decided to leave her vengeance demon job behind again, but she still had that same fire and determination that she had when she’d popped into his home. Even now she had her hands on her hips, looking at him disapprovingly for taking too long, or perhaps because she thought he was leering which of course he was. Gnash couldn’t stop a smile. “Well, it isn’t what I wanted, but I shall compromise. I will take the Sethoz stone, and you can have this.” He took the piece of Xander’s shirt from his pocket and showed it to them.

“That’s Xander’s,” Willow said, reaching for the piece of material. Gnash pulled it out of her reach but not out of view.

“How will that get us Xander back?” Anya asked dubiously.

“With the help of this,” Gnash explained as he produced a garish talisman. Willow’s eyes were drawn away from the piece of shirt to the talisman, and Gnash could tell that she immediately sensed the potential for its power. Her eyes lit up with understanding and perhaps a longing. Maybe she thought she could use it for other things as well: like saving her lover. If she could pull that off, Gnash would be intrigued enough that he almost wouldn’t mind losing his new ally: almost. He’d have to fight the witch of course if that happened. He did have his pride. “With the piece of shirt and this.” He held up the talisman. “You will be able to find the dimension your friend is in and retrieve him. Of course it will take a lot of power.”

“I have power,” Willow told him defiantly.

“I’m sure you do. Be glad I can use your Sethoz stone, or I would make you use that power to get me a Fulgor amulet. Do we have a deal?”

“Yes,” Anya said hastily. “Let me get you…”

“Anya!” Willow admonished.

“It’s Xander, Willow. Do you really want to take the chance of a magic duel and potentially burn up our only chance of rescuing him?” Anya asked as she indicated the fragile piece of cloth that Gnash held.

“Maybe we should wait…”

“No, no more waiting! Give the demon what it wants, get it out of here, and let’s save Xander.” She was walking to the shelves behind her counter. She quickly found what she wanted, holding it up to show the demon. Willow was glaring at her, but starting to look resigned. “Give the shirt and the talisman to Willow,” Anya directed him.

“You first,” Gnash said.

“No, you first.” Something in her eyes told Gnash she wouldn’t budge on this point. She truly was a magnificent woman. He put the shirt piece and talisman on the table and lifted his hands. Anya threw him the stone which he snatched effortlessly out of the air.

“Nice doing business with you ladies.” Before they could say anything else or more importantly, try any magic, Gnash teleported himself out of there.

Back in his home, he couldn’t wait to try his new toy, but first he had a demon witch to meet.  He put his Sethoz stone safely away and smiled. Even now, he could feel the magic wards shimmering at the edges of his aura, signaling him of an approaching being. Deciding that it wouldn’t do to be rude to the lady, Gnash crossed the room and opened his front door.

TBC

 

Chapter 9: Transformations

Standing at his threshold, she looked pretty much like Gnash remembered. She still had the soft features and the even softer curves. There were no obvious manifestations that something was different: no horns or spines, no facial ridges or fangs, no blinking neon sign saying "demon residing here". At times her eyes seemed to glow a luminous green, but otherwise she appeared human. The way she looked at him now though, she carried herself with an otherworldly confidence that was definitely a departure from the Tara he'd seen through the eyes of his special statue. Gnash smiled graciously. "Please come in."

She entered with just the slightest inclination of her head. "This shouldn't take long."

Gesturing with his taloned hand, he offered her a seat. She at first looked as if she would decline but then sat herself down on his old-fashioned chair. He took a chair opposite her. "Would you like something to drink?'

"No, thank you. I would prefer we get straight to business."

Gnash nodded. "A demon after my own heart. I am Gnash. May I call you Tapas? Is that your true name?"

She frowned at him. "No. Please call me Tara. That's my name."

It was Gnash's turn to frown. He scrutinized her, trying to discern if there was any way that the orb transformation might've gone wrong, but he couldn't figure how that could be. He sensed a demon presence. Was Tara powerful enough to suppress the demon?

As if reading his concern, she said, "The orb was properly invoked. Tapas is here." She placed a hand on her chest. "That's why I'm here. You placed the restriction on the orb's invocation. I wouldn't be here if it didn't happen correctly."

This was true, Gnash decided. The restriction he placed on the orb that she come here first wouldn't have worked if the orb was unsuccessful, but he had expected the demon to take over its human host, not the other way around. Tara did seem to thrum with great power of demon origin, so why was the demon staying subdued? Gnash was now getting concerned. He'd wanted a powerful ally or at least to remove Tara from their side. He didn't want a powerful opponent. He decided belatedly that perhaps he should've reinvoked the statue to watch what happened after the merging. To figure the current situation out, he would have to dig a little for information. "Please, tell me what happened after the orb was invoked. Did the other witch, Willow, harm you?"

"She tried to stop me, but I didn't let her."

"Did you kill her?" That wasn't necessarily part of the restriction he'd placed on the orb, but the demon, Tapas, likely would've tried to kill someone after such a long seclusion without a proper avenue for violence.

Tara seemed slightly offended by his questions. "No. I only did what was necessary to get her out of the way and protect myself. I won't hurt her unless I have to. I do love her."

Gnash's confusion and concern only grew with this answer. "I can't allow you to oppose me," he warned.

"And I won't unless you make me do so. I love Willow and my friends, but Tapas has given me a new freedom, and I have you to thank for that." She sat up even straighter as if outwardly manifesting her newfound confidence. "Before, I was afraid of using magic freely, and that restricted my abilities. Tapas has power to give me, and lives for the freeing of that power. I understand now, and I understand how my powers were restrained before when they didn't have to be. You're part of the reason for that, but I can't let you destroy Willow as a show of my gratitude, so if that's what you're expecting..." She shook her head in negation. "Maybe we can bargain on the rest. I'm sure we can come to an understanding that is mutually beneficial to both of us."

Gnash smiled. Oh, this was most interesting indeed. He was a demon who used magic to further his purpose. Tara now housed a demon for whom magic was the purpose. He was sure they'd be able to find some common ground. Even after all these years, magic never failed to surprise him.

*********

"We shouldn't have given the stone to the demon, you know." Anya's responding look of annoyance reminded Willow that this was about the fourth time she'd said this in the past few minutes. As if her look wasn't enough, Anya reminded her anyway.

"Yes, I know. You've only told me five times so far. I still don't agree." She picked up the talisman and the piece of shirt, holding it slightly outwards for emphasis. "Stuff we need to get Xander back, so me glad."

The Xander-like voice was obvious to Willow, no doubt a jabbing reminder of when he'd used similar wording, which just happened to be from another guilt-filled moment from her past. Willow often wondered if she was the only one who caught the other woman's subtle digs and supposed that Anya's ability came from over a thousand years of perfecting the art of subtle verbal swordplay. Taking a calming breath, she decided she would not let Anya get her goat. "Yes, I'm glad about that too." There, that ought to spoil her fun. Okay, maybe she needed help.

"And I won't feel guilty about it either, in case you were wondering."

"No guilt," Willow repeated, though she doubted either one of them actually believed it. "We better get started," she added as she looked at the items on the table: everything they needed to do the spell. Willow didn't think she could take explaining Tara's disappearance to Buffy and Angel without at least having a returned Xander as a distraction. Maybe when Xander was back, the ache and horrible loss wouldn't be so bad. Maybe the fact that her efforts with the orb had been unnecessary in hindsight wouldn't resonate so thoroughly. Maybe she wouldn't feel like a part of her had died. Maybe, but she doubted it.

*********

Buffy watched the two figures for a moment as they finished off the last of the demons. She admired the teamwork, the graceful arc of their swings and kicks, but noted with a smirk that she and Spike made an even better team. She knew it was Spike in charge at the moment, even if she couldn't quite see the ridges and fangs, because the style of fighting was purely his. As Buffy moved closer, the last demon went down in a spray of blood, some of which hit Conner. Spike snickered, and Conner pushed at his arm.

"You did that on purpose," the teen accused him.

Spike looked at him innocently around his fangs before snickering again. "'Course I did, mate. Takes art, that does."

"Good job," Conner said, patting him on the back. He got his entire arm in on the action, coincidentally splattering some of the demon blood on the back of the leather duster.

"Oi, hey, watch the leather!" He straightened, and his gaze swept up as she approached. "Slayer, love. Got you a present, pet." He poked the dead demon with his boot.

"Just what I always wanted," she replied sarcastically and with a smile. Just as she started to study its characteristics, the demon began to dissolve away. "Looks like it was defective. Guess you'll have to get me something else."

"Yeah?" he breathed, pulling her closer. She felt her body mold easily against his.

"Um, hey," Conner said, reminding them of his presence.

Spike rolled his eyes Conner's way as he let go of her a bit. "One of these days, kid, you'll keep your mouth shut, and maybe you'll learn something."

"Spike!" She whacked him soundly on the chest. "We're supposed to be helping Xander."

He just leered at her, sticking the tip of his tongue between his fangs. Okay, why did that make her tingle in all the inappropriate places? "Can't help it, love. I heard what you did to that vampire. A few vamps who were scared outta their wits happened by and spilled their guts. You know I love it when you get all forceful."

Even Conner had to smile. "You should've seen them. They were running like they'd seen a ghost."

Spike's face morphed, and Angel emerged. "Sorry 'bout that," he said. "I should've put him back earlier, but he was all hyper from the fight still."

"It's okay," Buffy said. "Partly my fault. I'm a little hyper myself. It's been a frustrating night of beating heads, but getting little information for my trouble."

"I'll take Conner home," Angel said. "Then we'll see what we can do about that."

"Ah geesh, at least Spike doesn't try to cover with the lame euphemisms," Conner teased him. "And do I have to go back to the mansion?" He managed not to whine, but his puppy dog face more than made up for it.

"He can stay at the house with us. He probably wants to meet Dawn anyway," Buffy teased. Angel had confided to her once how Conner had looked all starry-eyed at Dawn's picture when he'd shown it to him.

Confirming Angel's interpretation, Conner flushed. "The mansion's just not very comfortable," he grumbled even though they all knew Conner could make himself comfortable on a rock.

Buffy took pity on him. "We'll find you something to eat." She looked towards the horizon, noticing the glow of false dawn. "It's almost sunrise anyway, so maybe we can all take a break from the demons until tonight."

"I hope you have a lot of food. He eats like a horse," Angel remarked putting a hand on Conner's shoulder.

"Dad," he complained, but he didn't move far from Angel's side.

Buffy slid into step on Angel's other side, trying not to feel too guilty that she felt good about this small moment. She couldn't help it though. Soon she'd be asleep in Angel's arms for a little while with Conner and Dawn safe under their roof. Maybe later she'd wake up Angel or Spike. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the dewy air and tried to make it last, pretending for once that it would happen just as she hoped.

*********

Gnash said nothing for a long moment, trying instead to read Tara's intentions from the expressions on her face, but he couldn't read anything. He couldn't read her thoughts either and had long since given up trying. It just went to show that he'd become over-confident recently, falling back on his magic when his powers of perception failed him. It didn't help either that his current target for revenge was so easy to read. What he couldn't glean from reading Spike's mind, he'd seen written all over the vampire's face easily enough. Tara was a different creature entirely. Whatever might've been readable in her expression before the merger was now lost in the face of this new, cool confidence.

She finally spoke. "Of course I'd prefer it if you didn't try to kill anyone, but I know that is likely not an option. So, who can I get you to spare?"

"The boy Xander should be rescued from the dimension he's in fairly soon.  I have no further interest in him."

"And Dawn. You have no reason to bother with her." It wasn't a question, and her tone left no doubt that she wasn't willing to negotiate on that point.

"No. Nothing against the little girl," he acquiesced. There was no need to argue over the little things.

"I'd rather you not kill the vampire," she said.

Gnash narrowed his eyes. "Since he is my main target for revenge, I don't see how you can possibly think I'd agree to that."

"I didn't figure as much, but I thought I'd give it a try," she replied. "I have become somewhat fond of Spike. I also spent a lot of time and energy researching and getting that soul for him. I'd hate to see all that go to waste."

Gnash considered this and decided this was likely the influence of the demon as well as Tara's personal feelings for Spike. Of course the demon would find killing the vampire a waste of a good spell. There was likely still magic involved in keeping the soul and demon bound, and Tapas would find the destruction of such magic unpalatable. "Perhaps I could consider another option, but I will likely try to destroy both the vampire and his Slayer. I also can't promise to spare The Destroyer."

Tara furrowed her brow. "You are speaking of Conner?"

"That may be his name here, but that is not what he is."

Tara sat straighter. "Fine. Just remember to spare Willow, Xander, and Dawn. Anya also has done you no harm, though she is of less concern to me."

"I won't harm the ex-vengeance demon if it can be avoided," Gnash said. "Professional courtesy," he added to explain himself.

"Fine," she said. "I suppose you wish me to create havoc with my new-found powers?"

"It need not be havoc," Gnash acquiesced. "I'm sure you'll find something both entertaining to you and beneficial to me while remaining out of my way."

"And I'm sure you'll let me know if I don't," she replied knowingly. "So, if we are done here..." She rose from her chair.

Gnash stood as well, though he tilted his head just a little. "You aren't going to insist that I not harm Buffy?" He knew he shouldn't have asked, but curiosity usually got the better of him.

"It isn't really necessary," Tara said.

"Meaning you don't care one way or the other?" he asked, though he knew that was likely an incorrect interpretation.

"Meaning that if you go against her, you will lose."

Gnash blinked in confusion. Tara seemed so certain. With all the power he possessed, how could she be so sure? He searched her eyes, looking for any hint of doubt there, but saw none.

"If our business is concluded, I am leaving now," Tara said.

Gnash nodded and walked to the door, opening it for her. "I suspect we will not see each other for a long while."

"That's likely. I have much to do. A lot of time to make up for."

Gnash watched her leave and closed the door. Standing there, he felt unsure. For the first time in a long time, he doubted himself. It didn't make sense. How could she think the Slayer would defeat him? She didn't even know he existed. Then why was it that Tara was so certain? And why was it that he was now worried?

Gnash stared at his home and wondered just what he should do next. Maybe it was time to play his trump card.

*********

Instinctively Xander flinched when he heard the electric crackle and saw the flash of light, expecting yet another victim for Angelus and yet another round of feeling useless for himself. What he didn't expect was the sound of his name, rough and almost breathless.

"Xander."

He looked up, startled to see Anya. Instinctively, he knew he wasn't the only one aware of her presence. He threw himself across her partially raised body, knocking her back down flat as he covered her.

She grunted a bit, then complained, "Xander what are you..."

A pressure followed by a loud buzzing and a horrendous snarl cut her off short as Angelus reached them only to come in contact with Xander's barrier. The pressure lifted as he flung himself away from the pair on the ground.

"You can't keep this up long, boy," Angelus bellowed then moved some distance away to wait.

Squirming, Anya pushed at his chest. "What was that, and please, I'm all achy from the dimension traveling."

"An, I'm going to push up on my arms, but stay put okay? Trust me on this." He waited for her to nod, before lifting himself up onto his elbows.

"But now you are going to explain right?"

"Right," he said. "God, An I can't tell you how glad I am to see you, but wait... A demon didn't send you here, did it?" His stomach lurched, his momentary joy cut short by the thought that she was the next intended dinner for Angelus. He didn't think he could live if it meant he might eventually lose his fight to protect her, only to see her violated and murdered.

"No, Willow sent me here to get you out."

"Oh, Thank God. I wasn't sure how much longer I could spend here with that monster."

"The one that plowed into us, but was somehow repelled?"

"Yes. It's Angelus," he informed her.

"Angelus? But what is he doing here with you of all places? This can't be coincidence."

"No, it's not. And it's something we'll definitely have to consider later, but right now, I need to know what the plan is, because eventually he'll start trying to think of how to get you away from me."

Anya took a breath. "Right. I think my head is starting to feel a little less like someone is banging it inside a drum, so I'll give you the short version." She wiggled again, extracting a rock from behind her back and shoving it away from her. She sighed in relief. "Okay, Willow's the one with the big power, so she's making with the magic at home. I'm linked to her through this." She held up a strange looking metal disc that was connected to a chain around her neck. "I can only supply a little magic myself, because this place holds little magic energy."

Xander shot a wary glance over towards Angelus, making sure he was far enough away not to hear them. "We better talk softly. If he gets wind of what we are doing..."

"Right, we don't want him tagging along," she concluded.

"And I might have a little magic energy myself," he told her, indicating his own strange adornment with a little awkward shifting to reach it, making sure to keep his weight off of her at the same time. "This is what keeps my barrier working to keep Angelus from hurting me."

Anya brought her hand up to touch the glass orb. "Clever. Our enemy is very adept at magic. Oh," she said suddenly. Her eyes opened a little wider. In a moment, he felt it too, a persistent thrumming that vibrated their bodies. "Willow's starting to get through," she said. "This may be unpleasant, but we'll get you home." She smiled at him. "So it will all be worth it."

"Have I ever told you how amazing you are?"

She blushed lightly, making her look beautiful despite her disheveled locks and smudged face. "Maybe," she breathed, "but don't let that stop you."

"You are amazing, Anya."

They said little else, instead looking at each other and trying to ignore the constant and increasing vibrations that indicated the gathering magic. Xander only hoped it wouldn't get too uncomfortable and that Angelus wouldn't do something before it could work.

It turned out that one of his hopes was answered. At least Angelus didn't disturb them.

*********

Okay, Willow thought. Pain, but pain can be good. Means I'm still alive. The magic didn't rip me apart. Oh, and look Xander is here. She smiled and lifted herself slightly from where she'd fallen to the floor, propping herself on her elbows, and trying to keep down her nausea as the room spun in front of her. As her eyes focused again, she noticed the figure leaning against the wall watching her almost casually. Her mouth opening in surprise, she caught her breath. "Tara?"

Anya jerked a bit, her eyes showing that she was bracing for flight even if her body was unlikely to oblige. She was panting heavily, and she clasped at Xander lying on the floor beside her. "No! We just got him back. You can't take him!" she yelled at Tara.

"An, what are you talking about?" Xander asked as he struggled to prop himself up.

"That's not Tara," she hissed softly to him. Xander opened his mouth, but his confused question was cut off by Tara.

"I don't intend to harm him, Anya," she said. "And I'm still Tara." She titled her head and pushed off the wall in a way that reminded Willow of Spike for some reason. "Where do you think you got that last needed boost of energy to get them back here?" She sighed a little. "That was an amazing spell by the way. I felt it even in here." She lightly touched her chest in illustration.

Willow realized now that amongst all the general aches in her body there was a definite tingling, especially at her fingertips, the kind of tingling that came from energy transfer. "Tara?" she asked tentatively. She held a hand out towards her.

"I'm not staying long, Willow. I have a lot to do."

"Don't go," Willow begged.

Except to blink her eyes meaningfully, Tara didn't answer her plea. "The three of you are safe for now, but be careful. Your enemy is powerful, and I can't help you with him unless he breeches our agreement."

Willow tried to get up from her place on the floor, but she was too weak. The spell had really taken its toll on her.

"The orb wasn't random? It was related to an enemy?" Anya asked. She looked at Xander, then back to Tara. "Xander's disappearance too, I bet."

"It's all related, even more than you realize. Think long and hard. What you do in the days to come will be very important. I can't tell you much more than that. This is very different from anything you've faced. There's no apocalypse here. The motivations are much more personal."

"Revenge," Anya said knowingly. There was no question in her tone at all, and when Willow looked at her, Anya's face was sure. Vengeance she understood well, after all.

Tara took a deep breath and moved towards the exit.

"Tara, please."

"I can't stay, Willow. Don't ask me to. For once, don't try to hold me."

"I wouldn't..." Her voice caught. "I'm so sorry. I should never have..."

"No, you shouldn't have, but don't be sorry. I'm not." She lifted her head and squared her shoulders, giving Willow a slight smile. Without another word, she left the training room and then the Magic Box.

Xander continued to stare at the door, his expression one of shock and confusion that explained his unusual silence. Anya's expression showed annoyance.

Willow felt only loss and a nagging fear. Seeing Tara that way was somehow more disconcerting than seeing her possessed, because much of that... presence had been Tara. And she was perfectly comfortable with her new condition. Willow saw that clearly. How would they save Tara if she didn't want to be saved?

"I think we lost her," Anya said, not realizing she was cruelly cutting away all of Willow's last, thin shreds of hope.

Willow's throat constricted. She hated it when Anya was right.

*********

From the comfort of his home, Gnash watched the reunion with interest. He supposed he couldn't begrudge his new partial ally a small slip or two. Besides he did want Anya to return safely. He would let them have this moment. The witch was obviously drained, and it would take her some time to regain her strength. That made this the perfect time for him to act, while she had no resources to track his magic. They would have no idea that he'd be bringing Angelus back.

Sure they had this moment. But the next was his.
 

TBC

 

 

Chapter 10: Inner Strengths and Weaknesses

It was time. Well, more precisely, it was the only good time. Eventually Willow would regain her power and restore the spell she'd use to track magic events. Gnash didn't know how long he had before that happened, so he couldn't wait around hoping it would be a while. Angelus might not be totally ready, but nonetheless, Gnash would have to bring him back now. He sighed tiredly. The change in his plans necessitated a slight change in his motis operandi and that included less rest for him. Instead of bringing Angelus another meal, he'd leave the meal here, and Angelus could eat when he'd recovered from the dimensional travel. That had dictated preparing a room where no one outside would be able to hear anything and where the vampire could be contained until Gnash thought he was fit enough to leave.

Securing the woman's wrists, he tested the strength of the chains. Good, they'd do. Gnash wasn't in the mood to be here when she woke up, not really being in the mood to hear a good scream any more today. He had enough to worry about. He had to decide the best way to get Angelus here. It was one thing to send someone to another dimension; it was quite another thing to summon them from one, especially one without any magic energy. No, he'd have to do this the hard way. He'd have to go there, carry something to contain his magic, and drag Angelus back with him. He didn't anticipate the vampire would go quietly either, though he'd think graciousness should count for something. Well, that was vampires for you. Grace applied to their movements only.

Gnash decided maybe he'd take a spell to render Angelus unconscious as well. That would make getting him back here and locking him in easier. Problem solved. Securing the door to the makeshift storage for his new ally, Gnash smiled. Time to get to work.

The front door swung open before Buffy could fit the key in the lock. A soft, yellow glow poured out onto the porch, bathing them in light. It seemed almost serene, well for about a second anyway.

"Where've you been? Willow's been calling and calling. Because they got Xander back! But I think something's wrong. Not with Xander. It's something else. Oh, but don't call, 'cause they went home, and Willow said she'll tell you about it tomorrow when she gets some rest, because you know, tired from the spell. And it's late anyway, and no more deadline, because Xander's back! And oh, who is this?"

Buffy looked at Dawn in the doorway, and a slight smile crept onto her face. "I'm impressed," she teased. "I don't think you took a break once during that entire thing. Good use of hand gestures, too. And this is Angel's son, Conner. He'll be staying here for a while."

Dawn looked Conner over and smiled. "Cool," she breathed, and then as if catching herself she added with a shrug, "I mean, yeah sure."

Angel shifted his weight on the step, reminding Buffy that he was there. Sometimes she forgot how quiet he was. Spike would've made some snide comment by now, wondering if Dawn was going to let him in or did she plan to toast marshmallows over him when he burst into flames. All Angel did was cast his eyes to the horizon, assessing how much time he had before sunrise.

"Dawn, as nice as it is outside, we need to come in. The sun's gonna be up," she reminded her sister on Angel's behalf.

Dawn shook her head, tearing her gaze away from Conner. She seemed to look at Buffy a moment before she actually processed what she said. "Oh, yeah right, you have to come inside. Does Conner need an invite?" she asked.

"He's not a vampire," Buffy assured her.

"Well, come on in anyway," Dawn said as she moved aside. Then she furrowed her forehead before widening her eyes a bit. "Not that I'm disappointed you're not a vampire or anything, 'cuz well, that's Buffy's thing not mine. Not that there's anything wrong with it. It's just that well, being Angel's son and all I assumed..."

Buffy put her hand on her sister's shoulder. "Let me guess. You got into the coffee again?" she kidded her.

"I wanted to tell you the good news, so I needed caffeine to stay up," Dawn confirmed. She gave Buffy a sheepish grin before extracting herself from the sisterly contact. She closed the door now that Angel and Conner were inside, locking it immediately out of habit.

"Well, thank you," Buffy told her. "I'm glad you told me, and I'm really glad that Xander is back, but now we have to get cleaned up, because Conner was the only one who got to totally wash up at our mansion detour. And whatever Willow has to tell us, I'm sure I won't want to be tired for it, so some sleep is in order. For you too."

"Okay, but now I'm not sure I can sleep ever again," Dawn lamented.

"Coffee is evil," Conner said.

"I think you may be right," Dawn replied.

"No, really," he teased with a small smile. "It all comes from an evil hell dimension. How else would you explain Starbucks?"

Dawn gave him a wide-eyed "you're kidding" look before she figured out that he was joking.

Buffy smiled and felt her heart melt at the insane cuteness of it all. "Why don't you and Conner go into the kitchen and find him something to eat while I fix up the guest room."

"Okay," Dawn said as she headed for the kitchen. "It's this way." She turned back over her shoulder to throw a "Hey Angel, hey Spike," in Angel's direction, as she pushed the kitchen door open.

"Let me take your stuff upstairs," Angel offered, and Conner nodded, handing over his weapons bag and pack of clothes, before following Dawn lazily into the kitchen.

"And no chocolate puffs," Buffy called after her sister.

"As if!" Dawn almost wailed in teenage embarrassment, and Buffy grinned, imagining much eye rolling and maligning of her character behind the kitchen walls.

Angel shook his head, his gaze on the kitchen door. "I see trouble."

"Aw come, on it's cute," Buffy said with a mock pout.

Angel couldn't help but give a small smile. "Which leads to trouble." Then he put on a more serious expression. "I'll make sure to talk to him. Conner's not exactly your average boy, and..."

"Oh? Actually, I think the favored pastime of killing demons kinda gave that away," she teased as she headed for the stairs. "But that's okay. Dawn has me for a sister. She's not a clueless in that area. Not to mention she was friends with Spike even before he and you shared a soul." She looked meaningfully over her shoulder at Angel as he followed her up the stairs.

Angel appeared to be contemplating that disturbing bit of info. "Hmm. Maybe it's Conner I should worry about."

Smiling, Buffy shook her head and dug into the linen closet, extracting some clean sheets. Angel followed her into the bedroom, watching her as she put them on and helping her tuck the corners. When his eyes met hers, serious and concerned, she closed her own eyes to break the gaze. "Don't. Not tonight, okay?" She didn't want to think about Angelus right now and maybe, just maybe, if he didn't say it, she could forget again. At least for a little while.

The sun rose gracefully over a nature park in a less populated part of town. An old oak towered over the hilltop clearing, coloring the tall, wild grass below with long, jagged patterns. The shadows might've been fuller and smoother if the tree had been healthy, but the gnarled, old thing had no leaves, and the bark was falling away; death marring an otherwise perfect scene. Tara stared, supposing that in its own way, the dead tree was beautiful, but it wouldn't last. It didn't belong here. In a different landscape, this tree would be perfect: a home for woodpeckers and raccoons. Here though, it only would be torn down, it's decaying, falling branches a potential hazard to patrons of the hilltop park. Looking at the painted orange "X" on its trunk, Tara made her decision. This tree had too much of a story to let it end.

She closed her eyes and imagined the tree as it might've been not too long ago with green, full leaves and a strong trunk. Its limbs would stretch towards the sky, and its roots would reach deep into the earth. The bark she wouldn't imagine as new though. She'd rather keep it weathered, including the scattered imperfections and scars left as remembrances by lovers past. She wanted to restore life to the tree and give it a chance to remain, not diminish its history. Smiling at her mental picture, Tara took a deep breath and placed her hands on the rough bark. The contact wasn't necessary, but it felt right. She wanted a connection with this once living thing, to feel it come to life again.

As the power gathered around her, she could sense the demon inside her tense with anticipation, the excitement like that of holding an exquisitely wrapped gift in the moment before tearing the paper away. The demon lived for these moments, longing only for her to revel in her magic. Despite sharing her body, Tara felt free. For so long she'd held back, denying herself, afraid to use her full potential for fear that she'd lose herself to darkness. That no longer mattered, the distinction diminished in the face of what good she could do. Would a little darkness matter in the face of so much potential light? Somehow she'd make sure it didn't. And right now, restoring this tree was what she wanted to do. Would it change the world? It was highly unlikely, but someone somewhere would enjoy the shade of this tree or delight in the memory of a carved, heart-shaped message, and that was worth something.

Her demon seemed to agree. Already Tara sensed that he was happiest when she felt good about what she was doing. She knew that she felt it now, even as the power left her body in a painful jolt to enter the trunk of the tree. The hurt was small compared to the feeling of bringing this entity back to life. She let go even more, and the magic energy rushed up the trunk, infusing through the bark and winding its way into each branch. Twigs sprouted and leaves appeared, not completely formed, but as if they were growing from buds then unfurling. Before long, the tree once again stood tall and healthy. Opening her eyes, Tara smiled broadly at the wonder of life she'd created before sinking to the ground. It was getting easier, she could tell, and her recovery would likely be swift, but she wasn't ready to leave. She'd bask here in the glow of rejuvenated life for a bit while her demon enjoyed the afterglow of the magic rush. He wasn't in a hurry either it seemed. Tara decided that maybe they'd get along just fine.

On the other side of town, Angelus woke to an all encompassing ache, groaning as he shifted to his side. He didn't have to open his eyes to know that he was no longer in that shit-hole of a dimension anymore. The smooth feel of the floor beneath him confirmed it. That also explained his current sorry state. Yes, he remembered this feeling: not that much unlike the last time he'd been whipped through the dimensions. This time, it was likely just one dimension, but somehow his discomfort was the same. He chalked that up to his now returning memory of getting hit full in the chest with some serious magic that knocked him unconscious. He supposed there was a good reason for that, guessing he'd find himself in a nice sturdy cage or locked room. His view when he opened his eyes seemed to confirm that assessment. Fucking demon.

He closed his eyes again, imagining all sorts of appropriate revenge on the large, green demon, but he let it fade after a few inventive scenarios. At least he was in Sunnydale. He'd get out of here eventually, and... was that a human he smelled? Nice and ripe and full of fear. Angelus smiled. Maybe Gnash wasn't so bad after all.

Buffy's mouth tightened as she heard Willow's explanation. As a distraction, she tried to think of other emotions while at the same time still listening. She thought of how she felt this morning, knowing that Dawn and Conner were safe. She remembered the peace of falling into a deep sleep and waking to a lovely morning in Angel's arms. Then the day had only gotten better when she'd hugged Xander so tight that he'd complained of her slayer strength. Remembering these things should've helped to soften her emotions, but somehow, they just made her angrier. And it was all Willow's fault. For one brief moment things had been going well. Sure, soon enough, whatever evil had been plotting to hurt them by releasing demons and bringing Angelus back would raise its ugly head and bite them in the ass, but right now it wasn't the evil that was ruining everything. It was Willow, and she'd done it by doing something she'd promised not to do. No matter how Buffy looked at it, it all boiled down to that. She wanted to hold up her hands and say "no more", to make Willow's words stop, but she sat there instead, mesmerized by the badness of what her friend was describing.

Willow was sorry. Willow was devastated. Buffy could hear it in her voice as she tried to explain why she'd done what she had, yet somehow that didn't help. Buffy still felt betrayed, and she felt trapped. Everyone was expecting her to be forgiving, to be comforting. That was what friends were supposed to do, but right now it was taking all of her effort not to scream accusations. Buffy knew they wouldn't help. She wanted to do it anyway. Didn't you learn anything from dragging me back from heaven? Shouldn't you have at least told someone what you were planning to do? God, are you ever going to learn? She managed to scream them in her mind only, her face a closed book.

It wasn't that she didn't understand, because she did, all too well actually. Buffy knew what it was to take on the hero roll, to try to save the day. The difference was she didn't crave it. She even felt guilty about it sometimes when she decided what course of action she thought best, because sometimes, it turned out not to be the case, but did Willow even consider that? Or did she just consider the benefits, imagining how everyone would react when she saved the day? Buffy didn't like thinking this about Willow, but somehow the thoughts wouldn't go away. And she had no one she could tell them too without looking like the bad guy.

"Buffy? Buffy, say something, please."

Buffy blinked, potential answers running through her mind. What do you want me to say, Willow? You're forgiven for maybe ruining Tara's life in a rash attempt to save Xander that turned out to be pointless? You screwed up yet again, but it's okay, because I'm sure you won't do it next time? Buffy forced on a sad smile and met Willow's pleading gaze. "We'll get Tara back, Willow. I'm sure you'll find a way."

"I will. I know I will," Willow said. "I'll start researching right now, and I won't stop until I find something."

Taking a long breath through her nose, Buffy gritted her teeth behind her encouraging smile. She forced her jaw to unclench. "I'll help in a little while. There's something I have to do first." She headed for the training room.

Angel's gut instinct told him to follow Buffy. She didn't even notice that he was behind her until she turned to close the door. Seeing him, her eyes flashed with barely suppressed emotion, and something inside Angel responded. Vague memories clouded his brain, and it didn't take Angel long to decide that he would try to handle this himself, but he wouldn't push it. In all likelihood, he would end up bowing out. He loved Buffy, but he knew she was different now. Sometimes a hug and soft words weren't enough anymore. Sometimes she needed to feel flesh pounded beneath her fists, and that was something he couldn't do for her. She wouldn't with him, not entirely. Angel reached behind him and closed the door.

Buffy's eyes shifted towards the back door of the training room. Angel could feel her tension in the air between them. A few quick steps and she'd be outside in the sunlight where he couldn't follow, bottling her emotions inside or taking them out on demons who wouldn't be around to judge her later but wouldn't really be able to help her either. When she made her move, he blocked her path, grabbing her arms. "You did the right thing Buffy." He ignored the vague feeling in his brain that seemed to say "Hogwash!" except in more colorful terms, wishing he could smack Spike upside the head sometimes, but he conceded a bit by adding, "For Willow. Nothing you wanted to say would've been helpful right now. Maybe later when it's not so raw. Maybe then you can talk to her about this."

Buffy crossed her arms beneath his grip. "I suppose you know what I wanted to say, then, hmm?"

"I have a pretty good idea."

"And I suppose you think I'm a bitch for wanting to say it? Or a hypocrite maybe?"

Woah, woah, Angel thought, alarm bells ringing in his head. He was way too deep, too fast. He released her arms, letting her feel as if she'd regained some control. "Nothing like that at all. Willow was wrong. I know it, and I know you know it, but telling her that now won't do any good... and that's not what you need to hear right now, because you know all that," he added, because he suddenly knew it was true. This was more than her being mad at Willow. She was mad at herself for being mad at Willow, and very likely no amount of talking was going to alleviate that. He'd done what he could, but it was time for more active measures.

Angel conceded and let Spike forward. Just before he faded, he had a pretty good idea he was going to regret this later, but the best way to get Buffy not to be mad at herself was...

"Screw Willow, pet. She got what she deserved."

Buffy's eyes flashed and she gripped her arms even tighter. "How can you, of all people, say that?" she accused, her eyes furious.

"Easy, cuz it's true." She gritted her teeth in response, holding back, and Spike thought come on. Don't make me say something I'll regret. Yeah, you don't like that you sometimes have to do this, and yeah, we could likely talk it out if we had a few hours, but believe me this is much less painful. For both of us. She made another move towards the back door, and Spike was grateful. He wouldn't have to resort to harsh words. He blocked her path. "Ah ah, pet. I'm not gonna let you do that. We'll either talk this out, or we'll do it the easy way."

That earned him a surprised look, and her hands moved to her hips. "You'd rather I knock you senseless than talk this out?"

"Well, yeah, and this surprises you, pet?" He arched an eyebrow at her, and feeling confident that he had her attention for the moment, he took a step back. "If I had my druthers between a long, drawn out, potentially mushy, mamby pamby conversation and a good, knock down drag out, well come on, which do you really think I'd choose?" He snorted. "Talking on and on is the poofter's thing. I can bring him back if you like. I'll just go back in there and think of something more interesting. Like paint drying."

Spike was surprised to see her smile at this before she crossed her arms and gave him a challenging look. "So my pain is boring to you, huh?"

"Never said that, pet. You've got a legitimate beef here. 's just talking's not what's gonna do it for you right now, and seeing as it's daylight with no vamps to slay..."

 He titled his head over towards the large punching bag. "Come on. It's okay. I won't tell a soul." He leaned toward her conspiratorially as he said the last.

"You're a jerk, Spike," she huffed, but she stomped over to the punching bag anyway.

He took his position behind the bag, holding it for her. "That I am, love. That I am."

In his own, secluded room, Angelus looked over his newest potential meal. Still unconscious, the girl lay against the wall haphazardly, her manacled wrists hanging limply by her sides. Though he did enjoy screaming, crying, pleading, he was glad for the moment that she was asleep. He could study her this way. The girl bore a partial resemblance to her. She was a bit too tall and curvy, but the blond hair, the thin frame, and the feminine attire all reminded him of his former lover. No, not his former lover, not by choice anyway. He'd been there all right, but he'd had no say in the act itself, the soft caresses, and the lovelorn whispers. The thought of it now made him want to shudder, but then again, the result hadn't been so bad, not at all.

Hunching down beside her to take a closer look, he traced his hands in the air over her form, first her hair then her arm, waist, hip, and lastly her leg. Feeling her warmth, watching her breathing slowly, and hearing her blood pulsing through her veins, Angelus wanted nothing more than to tear into her flesh and drink, but he wouldn't. He'd wait until she woke, and even the he'd be patient when she did, because... Taking a startled breath, a smile drew across his lips as it came to him. She looked enough like her that he could pretend. He could act out what he planned to do to her, and he planned no quick and easy end for Buffy Summers. No, he was too much of an artist for that.

Angelus drew back from her, uncurling gracefully. In the corner he located the basin of water, soap, and a wash cloth that he'd seen in his earlier look at his prison. Clean clothes sat beside them. Listening always for any change in the girl's breathing that might indicate she was waking, he set about cleaning himself up. Not needing to see for such a menial, often preformed task, he closed his eyes and imagined. Pain was too ordinary, something Buffy knew already, something she'd expect. Maybe later there would be pain, but first... First he'd make her face one of her deepest, darkest secrets: that she'd want him still. Sure Angel was there with her now, but he didn't look like her Angel. Her Angel was dark, tall, broad, and could wrap his body around hers in a protective embrace that his useless get never could. He could make her want that again, make her quiver with desire. She'd know it was him, Angelus, and he'd never want her to forget that part, but he'd be so soft, so persuasive that her body wouldn't care.

It would take planning, and likely she'd struggle at first, but once he got his arms around her, pinning her, he'd look her in the eyes with such sincerity that she'd hesitate, just for that crucial moment. He'd move in, whisper in her ear. Shh, I'm not going to hurt you, Buffy. We don't have to fight anymore. A hand would tentatively loosen its grip and caress her arm. You must know I only fought you, because I didn't want to face how much I wanted you, but I don't want to fight it anymore. A shivering kiss to the sensitive spot behind her ear, another to her neck, listening to that fearful intake of breath in anticipation of a bite that wouldn't come, not yet. You know I'm part of him. And you know this is what you want, what you need. He's not enough for you. The hand would slowly slide from her arm to brush the side of her breast. You're so beautiful. I can be soft for you, Buffy. And he would at first, too. Yes, it would be difficult, but one must suffer a little for great art, and this would be a masterpiece.

The seduction would have to be complete. He'd have to be inside her with her quivering around him, crying out as she came before he would even let his true face forward. If he did it right, she'd have no way to stop herself. She'd be helpless against her body's reaction, and he'd watch her expression as she began to truly realize that it was him, Angelus the demon bringing her this pleasure, that it was always a demon she wanted. Then he'd give the final blow, watch her eyes close as his fingers traced that mark on her neck, his lips following soon after. This is what you need. This is what he can't give you, and you must know, Buffy, somewhere deep inside, that it was me last time who drank from your sweet, heated skin. It was me who brought you that pleasure. Then he'd slide his fangs into her neck, make her find release again, and tear away any chance for her to hide from the awful truth that she did want him. No more gentle after that. He'd make sure she knew it was him who was having her, not her gentle Angel, and he'd make sure she enjoyed every moment of painful pleasure.

Turning her would almost be an afterthought after such an exquisite torment, but he'd make sure that would be memorable too. It might have been a long time since he made Drusilla, but he still remembered how. After the seduction, breaking her the rest of the way should be easy. He let the image fade away.

It took Angelus a moment to realize that his hands had finished washing himself a few moments ago. He opened his eyes and rung the cloth, setting it beside the basin before he slid into the clean clothes. Perfect timing. The girl was beginning to wake. He put on his angelic face and went to her, holding up a placating hand as she asked fretfully, "Where am I? Who are you?"

"I'm stuck here too, but we're okay for now, I think. The demon's gone."

"Are you sure?" her eyes were pleading. She wanted so much for his words to be true. He could see it in her eyes and in her trembling body.

He moved closer, placing strong, soothing hands on her arms, drawing her into a protective hug. She hesitated at first, tensing, but then gave in to the promise of his comfort. He turned his face slightly to whisper softly in her ear "Shh, I'm not going to hurt you..."

Spike knew he should go back in quietly, but he didn't want to yet. He wanted to bask in the glow of this moment. After several rounds with the punching bag, he'd instigated a fight. To someone who didn't know Buffy as well, it might've appeared that the punching bag was enough, but Spike did know better. Sure she'd let out some grunted complaints as she threw punch after punch, but she'd needed more than that. He gave her an excuse to hit him, saying something about maybe she was just afraid to let Willow know how she really felt about her. That'd earned him a "how dare you pretend to know how I feel about Willow?" It got a little ugly after that, but thankfully not too bad. A brilliant shag of course followed the brawl. The tears that came after somewhat surprised him, but he was glad that she'd finally let out her grief for Tara.

He held her now, one arm around her shoulders as she lay against him, limp and tired. He could see a nice bruise or two forming on his forearm from defensive blocks. For some reason, he always fancied that a couple of bruises looked good on him, made him look all manly and straight from a brawl. That it would bug Angel didn't hurt either.

Glancing down at her, he nuzzled into her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. He really didn't want to leave her, but he supposed he had to. "You'll have to talk to Willow sometime later, love," he said into her hair.

"I know," she said with only slight annoyance at his breaking the silence. "But I'm good for now. Thanks."

"Anytime, pet."

"I really shouldn't solve my anger issues by hitting things, you know." She looked at him. "So it's actually bad for you to encourage me."

Spike snorted. "You keep talking like you're a normal girl. You do your best slaying when you're mad as hell. 'Sides what fun would that be for me?"

Titling her face up, she smirked at him. "Oh, so it's a charity thing then? Giving the vampire a much needed pounding?"

Spike raised his eyebrows and ground himself against her hip. "Thas right. It'd be cruel not to give the vamp his necessary pounding."

Buffy smacked him in the chest. "Pig." She made a show of snuggling into him before looking back into his ridged face. "You're still here?" she teased.

"Not much longer," he admitted somewhat sadly.

She lost her smile then. "Sorry."

"'s okay. I've overstayed as it is."

She turned more towards him, planting a soft kiss to his shoulder.

"'Sides, 've had enough mushy stuff to last me quite a while. Time to let Mr. Brody Pants take over and deal with all that."

She gave him an "oh, yeah" expression, eyebrows raised, before she smiled. "You're lucky that I know you're lying. Bye Spike."

"Bye, pet. Knock 'em dead. I'm here if you need me."

"I know."

Spike reluctantly let himself fade into the background.

Gnash frowned curiously as he looked at the scene his statue was showing him. He had to admit that he hadn't entirely figured Angelus out just yet. He knew how brutal the vampire could be. He'd seen the evidence of one victim's destruction and watched with great interest another's demise. The vision might've been grainy considering it was another dimension, and there was no sound, but it was definitely nothing like the slow seduction he was witnessing now. What was the vampire doing, and why did he seem to be whispering things that the girl couldn't hear along with the intelligible endearments?

Gnash was sure this must only be a ruse of some kind. He certainly wouldn't... Well he was wrong again. The vampire was definitely going to take the woman, and it looked for all the world like she was willing. He'd heard of a vampire's ability to mesmerize his prey, but this was the first time he'd seen it in effect. If anything, Gnash would say Angelus was being gentle, attentive. It wasn't long before the woman was moaning. Then just as Gnash was afraid it was going to get boring, he saw the vampire's face change. The girl still had her eyes closed, her mouth open in her exclamation of climax, but when she opened her eyes, Gnash snickered at the delightful expression of horror that bloomed there. Her body froze. Her scream was strangled and weak, her lungs unable to get the necessary air. Then Angelus struck, burying his fangs in her trembling body.

Gnash let the image fade, so the vampire could finish his meal in peace. Leaning back, he smiled. Even a demon such as himself could appreciate the subtle beauty of that death. He couldn't wait to let Angelus loose on his enemies, wondering if similar horrors were in store for the Slayer and her gang. He certainly hoped so. Now, though, he had to rest up and prepare for the next part of his plan. For that, he needed more demons. Tired but full of anticipation, he rose from his table and went to get a good evening's rest. Tomorrow he'd start fresh, and soon all of Sunnydale would pay the price.
 

TBC

 

 

 

Chapter 11: Arrivals

It started as a small crack, just a fissure really, zigzagging its way a short distance along the ground. Only a slight parting of winter stressed grass signaled its arrival, barely out of the ordinary for an area prone to drying weather. There was little sound at first. Not that there would've been anyone to hear it if there had been. The park was deserted at this time of day, being too early in the morning even for joggers, or at least for joggers who weren't foolish enough to chance the pre-dawn hours. Though close to sunrise, the shadows still might hide that reckless or desperate vampire willing to tempt the impending dawn for a meal.

Had someone been that foolish, he might've seen the harsh glow begin to pour from the now expanding crack in the ground and heard the beginnings of a rumbling deep beneath the earth as if signaling some waking giant who'd just rolled over and taken that first rough breath before lurching from its bed. He might've heard that rumbling grow into a disturbing roar of sound as the tear expanded violently, accompanied by a burst of unearthly light. That likely might've been the last thing the poor unfortunate experienced, because the ground exploded after that. Or more precisely, the underground exploded.

With a thunderous boom, the deep rent threw forth jagged rocks that thudded dully onto the once manicured surface, scarring and denting it, leaving it quaking. The rocks smoldered slightly, smelling of charred earth. Had someone somehow managed to escape the rocks, he likely would've been immobilized by the first sight of a clawed hand reaching through the now gaping hole and scrabbling on the ground for purchase before hauling its owner onto the now illuminated landscape. Red eyes would've matched the eerie red glow of the surroundings and bored into the bystander's gaze, soon to be joined by another set of eyes and another. Roaring with an anger he'd never have heard before, the large, spiny demons would've zeroed in on him and torn him apart. As it was, there was no unfortunate soul for the demons to vent their wrath upon. They roared at the affront and at the approaching dawn.

From his chair in front of his statue, coffee cup in hand, Gnash watched the sight. He marveled at the intensity, the unmitigated rage. Such unrefined demons they were, with no control, but at the same time, so very useful as a distraction. He smiled as more joined their brothers and sisters on the smoldering ground, some turning even on each other as they found nothing else upon which to vent their rage. Gnash guessed they were mad as... well mad as hell and not going to take it anymore. But they'd have to. This breed was not able to move about in daylight, their skin blistering and their eyesight failing in the harsh rays. They'd be good and enraged by the time night fell again.

A last few stragglers joined the more than two dozen already on the surface before the hole closed up with yet another rumble before quieting. Gnash was tired again, almost exhausted actually. All at once, even his coffee cup seemed heavy. The spell to call them had taken most of the strength he'd managed to garner the night before. He'd need an extended rest, preferably in another dimension where time moved more quickly so he wouldn't miss anything here. Likely though, he'd have to stay, because dimension hopping now would be risky. No matter. It had all been worth it. Looking upon the site reflected in the large eyes of his statue and hearing the howls of the demons he'd brought forth, Gnash could only think of one word to describe the sight: beautiful.

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Tara felt it building slowly at first: a nagging sensation that woke her from sleep in the early hours of the morning. It was actually Tapas who had woken her. Her demon seemed to be attuned to magic energy. He could often sense it even from a distance, and she supposed that made sense for a demon whose purpose was to feed off of magical energy. For him, sensing magic was likely as natural as her using her sense of sight, sound, or smell.

It was the second time in a little over a day that he'd sensed such strong magic brewing, and she hoped that the crescendo wasn't as bad as that last time. Whatever it had been last time was dark, bad. Tapas, being a demon, didn't seem to care so much that the magic was dark and evil. Any magic excited him, got his senses going. Tara though, was disturbed by the feelings the dark magic had stirred in her. Knowing where the magic had likely come from had only made the feeling worse. Presently the sensation was growing and Tara started to breathe more heavily. Gripping the comforter beneath her hands, she closed her eyes and tried to prepare. This was going to be bad, even worse than last time. This she could tell already. Tapas was humming, practically buzzing in anticipation, and his frustration at not being closer to the action left a physical imprint on her senses, making her shake with the discomfort. All she could do was brace herself and wait. Despite her efforts though, Tara wasn't prepared for the feeling of the negative power that exploded into her senses as the magic reached its peak. She cried out as it tore through her, receiving vague sensations of where the energy had come from and instinctively knowing that most of it was not from this plane or dimension.

The aftermath left her panting and momentarily weakened. It also left her scared. Whatever this spell had done it was beyond the usual bad and well into extremely dangerous. This time she would have to warn someone. She couldn't tell them everything: this she'd found out recently. Her merger with Tapas had come with certain instructions and restrictions built in, the first being her meeting with Gnash when she'd first merged, but more importantly, she was unable to tell anyone of his identity. She couldn't even write it down. She only hoped it didn't restrict her from warning others of the potential dangers he posed. Tara guessed that there was only one way to find out.

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Monday morning arrived for Dawn with a blast of her alarm clock. Her response was to smack the snooze button. On the second smack, she was starting to be a little more coherent. Okay who put the lame country station on, she thought. Monday is bad enough without having to listen to that. Oh, my girlfriend is cheating on me, how dire. Try dealing with a hell god trying to kill you, your mother dying, and your sister sacrificing herself to save you and the world, then you'll really have some blues to sing about. She managed to drift off again just in time for the alarm to go off after the appointed nine minutes. Groaning, she silenced the strains of a twanging guitar, threw the covers off, and headed for her dresser to retrieve something to wear.

Thank goodness it was almost time for winter break. She wasn't sure she could deal with both approaching evil and the horror that was Geometry at the same time. Banging open drawers, she grabbed underwear, socks, shirt, and slacks almost at random, uncharacteristically uncaring as to whether or not her outfit was acceptable by high school social standards. Selecting something functional, she threw them on the bed. She was almost out into the hall before she remembered that they had a house guest and that traveling back to her room in only a towel might lead to trauma-inducing embarrassment if Angel's son happened to appear in the hallway. Relieved at avoiding the potential disaster, she dug into her closet, looking for a robe which she hoped would fit her well enough to cover everything that should be covered and yet somehow not look like something a grandma might wear, because in that case she'd almost rather chance the towel. After almost half her wardrobe ended up on her closet floor, she finally located something. She glanced at the clock. It had the nerve to actually point out that it was later while the lavender color of the robe was mocking her. Maybe she should just take her clothes with her and dress in the bathroom, even though that would mean she'd likely be sticky from the steam from the shower. No, take the stupid robe, she told herself.

Getting ready for school really shouldn't be this complicated. She lived through demon attacks, vampires abducting her, and crazy hell-gods. Why was getting herself dressed driving her crazy? Dawn finally closed the bathroom door, somehow feeling a sense of victory. As she turned the water on and let the spray beat down on her head, she thought, Geesh am I lame. Big important key here, and yet I still end up a loser teenager that has to go to school. She finished her shower and dried off, stopping to look at herself in the mirror. Yup, there was a big zit on her chin. Maybe with any luck, the apocalypse would happen before the homeroom bell rang.

After brushing her hair and dressing, she hurried downstairs and into the kitchen, almost colliding with Conner in the doorway. Quick reflexes had allowed him to move to the side. "Sorry," she said. "School."

"My condolences," he replied. "From what I've heard about high school, I'd rather be fighting demons."

Dawn went over to the cabinets and pulled out a box of cereal. "Well, I've heard that you're good at it. Fighting demons, I mean." Conner shrugged a little: no go there. Darn and she was bad at this. How could she be expected to keep up the conversation? "Speaking of which, I didn't expect you'd be up so early this morning. With all the demon slaying the night before last. You've got an excuse to sleep in."

He shrugged again. "I got enough sleep yesterday. Besides I was hungry."

No surprise there, Dawn mused. The boy could definitely eat. She now noticed the cold piece of pizza on a napkin on the kitchen bar with a few bites out of it. He picked it up again and started munching. Dawn almost rolled her eyes as she dug into the refrigerator for the milk. What was it with men and cold pizza? The cheese got all congealed and stuff. It was so easy just to pop it in the microwave. Well at least he wasn't dunking it in a mug of blood. "Milk?" she asked him, since she had it out anyway. Conner nodded, so she poured him a glass.

"Thanks."

"Where is everyone?" Dawn finally asked. She realized that she didn't hear anything upstairs, and Buffy should be getting ready to go to school with her by now. Momentarily abandoning her cereal, she poked her head up the stairway. "Buffy!" she yelled. "Buffy are you up there?" She giggled when she heard a muffled "crap" that indicated her sister had overslept, something that seemed to happen a lot when Angel and Spike were visiting. Good. Someone else can fret about getting ready for school. "What are you going to do today?" she asked Conner as she returned to the kitchen.

"That depends. It'll likely involve killing something though," he replied with a smirk.

"Yeah well, my day involves Geometry. Yours sounds better."

They ate in slightly awkward quiet, listening to and sometimes commenting on the clomping footsteps and hurried movements from upstairs that indicated Buffy was getting ready. Dawn always wondered how her sister ever snuck up on vampires if she sounded like that in the morning.

Finally Buffy came rushing down the stairs, dressed in something suitably business-like and doing battle with her hair. "Hah!" she announced as she heard the knock on the door. "Didn't think I'd make it, did ya?"

"Well, you might not've if I hadn't woken you."

Buffy pouted as she opened the door for Xander. "I was awake." She moved to the side to let him into the living room.

"I come bearing breakfast of the disgusting variety," Xander said with amusement as he held out a bag with a heavily rolled edge.

"There's fresh blood in the fridge!" Buffy called up the stairs as she took the package from Xander. "Thanks," she told him. "All the slayage and minor disasters recently didn't leave me much time to go shopping."

"Evil doesn't take winter holiday," he commiserated.

Buffy rushed to the kitchen to put the blood in the refrigerator, calling over her shoulder "Do you have your book bag, Dawn?"

"Present and accounted for." She considered pointing out that she always had her book bag, and that Buffy was the one who tended to forget things that weren't of the weapony variety, but in Buffy's hurried state this morning, it likely would've been a snark wasted on deaf ears. Better to save it for when it would be appreciated. She heard Buffy saying good morning and good bye type stuff to Conner in the kitchen before returning and heading out the door.

Her sister's haste left her and Xander to catch up. Dawn was never sure how Buffy managed that. No matter how behind or late she might be, somehow Buffy always made it to the car first. "We don't want to be late," she called from the front seat and strapped herself in.

Dawn could only shake her head and share a knowing look with Xander. "Don't worry, Buff, we've got plenty of time." He always said that, but for today at least, Dawn agreed that it was true.

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Angel stared at the woman in the doorway, trying to assimilate what he was sensing. This was Tara, but at the same time it wasn't, or at least it wasn't only Tara. Something else occupied her body. The difference wouldn't be so obvious to a human observer, but he could clearly sense the demon in the woman, could smell the scent of it. It was a male demon actually, which Angel somehow found curious, because the demon seemed to be quite comfortable in the very feminine body and almost exuded a fondness for his human host. Just as cozy as my own little demon is inside this shared body, he mused, and saw a smile come to the lips of his guest.

"This is why I came to see you," she said. "May I come in?"

Angel knew it was because of her manners that she asked. Despite the demon, Tara wasn't a vampire, and she still had her soul. She didn't need either an invitation or an exemption from the protection spell. He frowned a little as he assessed her first statement. It was as if she had read his mind or had at least sensed his emotions, something most beings couldn't do. "Are you sure you don't want to talk with Buffy or Willow?" Even as he asked, he moved aside to let her enter.

Tara nodded as she stepped inside. She sat on the living room chair before answering his question more completely. "I'm trying to minimize my contact with the others right now." She took a deep breath and kept eye contact. "When they look at me, I see sadness and regret, maybe even pity. It hurts to see that, because I can't explain what's happened to me in a way that they'll understand, but I think you understand."

Angel regarded Tara thoughtfully as she spoke. Most of what he knew of this woman came from Spike's memories: vague images that flashed through his mind, some old but most, more recent. There was also a general sense of fondness, gratitude, respect, and concern coming from his demon now. Spike never was able to stick to just one or even two emotions at a time, something Angel was learning to get used to, albeit slowly.

"You can tell him that I'm alright," she said, and Angel was sure now that Tara was able to sense at least his emotions.

"He heard you."

Tara nodded. "I better tell you what I have to say, because it's important." Her smile faded. "Something terrible happened just before dawn today. Whatever it was happened because of some very powerful magic. The magic is what I, or actually Tapas, sensed. That and the darkness involved, though I seem to be more sensitive to that part. I'm not sure exactly what took place, but the energy is not all from here, and it's definitely not positive."

She'd touched her head lightly as she spoke the demon's name, and Angel noted how similar her action was to Buffy's or his own when speaking of Spike. Tara didn't even seem to be aware of doing it. Angel wasn't sure if that was comforting or disturbing. His brow furrowed, as he assessed what she'd said. "What do you mean by the energy not all being from here?" He had a pretty good idea, but he had to ask. He had to be sure.

"Something or somethings were called from another dimension. I know who's involved. I can feel that much, and you'll have to believe me when I say that the faster you act, the better."

"Who is it?" Angel asked. "Are they the same one who wants to bring back Angelus?"

"Yes, and not exactly a 'who'. A demon."

"What kind of demon?" Angel asked, his tone becoming dark. His hands clenched into fists at his side.

Tara shook her head. "I can't tell you that. There's magic preventing me from saying anything about the identity. Even my magic can't break that. It was built in as part of my merging."

Angel started a bit. "What happened to you is part of this?" As Tara nodded in affirmation of what Angel instinctively knew, his hands unclenched, and he ran one nervously through his hair. How long had this enemy been planning this and just how far was he or she going to go? And more importantly: why?

Tara looked at him gravely. "You can't understand this being's motives. There is some revenge involved, but it has grown beyond that. It's now become more because..."

Angel scoffed and finished for her. "Because he can." He knew now for certain it was a he, though he didn't know exactly why. He knew that females were surely capable. Darla had been his very own example after all, Angelus' teacher in the art of evil, and often there was no such mind as devious and long-planning as that of a woman who felt she'd been wronged, but the brutality of this... It was a he, Angel was sure. And this demon had tasted the power in the act: the power that came from completely turning lives inside out bit by bit.

Tara had been wrong. Angel understood the motives all too well. He had the memories to remind him branded into his soul, and soon the one who gave him those memories would be part of it: a perfect counterpart to the demon who'd bring him back. Two monsters with the desire to make destruction an art form. His thoughts came to a halt as he saw Tara softly shake her head.

"I see you do understand after all, but you have one thing wrong."

"What is that?" he asked warily.

"This demon isn't bringing Angelus..."

The realization hit Angel like an oncoming train. "Angelus is already here."

------------------------------------

He stood amongst the many shadows left by the retreating rays of the late afternoon sun. It was winter here, he could tell, not because of the temperature really, but because the sun never quite got as high as it did in summer, as if it just didn't have the energy to rise full in the sky. That was fine with him. It made it easier to get a closer look.

He didn't know why Gnash had all of a sudden come to his locked door and opened it without a word, but Angelus really didn't care. He hadn't even looked for the scaly demon when he'd opened the heavy door to find nothing behind it but an empty warehouse. Maybe he'd find him later. Right now, he wanted a head start, because this was going to take careful planning, especially now, since he wasn't up to his full strength yet. It was for that reason he was also starting small. Tonight under the cover of darkness, he'd hunt for a meal, but for now, he needed to use the daylight hours to observe his other prey.

He knew he wasn't ready yet to follow her. She would know, and he didn't want to chance a confrontation without an advantage, without some leverage. He shrunk back even farther into the shadows, wondering why Spike felt the need to roam above during the day. He certainly wouldn't be here if he didn't have to be. Even in the shade he felt his skin crawl. But it was necessary, he knew. He'd felt the strong magic around the house on Revello drive without even having to come close. It was protected, and all good little girls would be home and safe inside by dark.

Good little girls did have to go to school though. He smiled as he watched the first few students descend the stairs leading from the high school. With luck, it was early in the school week. He'd come here every day if need be. Every day until he was strong. He remembered the picture. She looked so different from her sister with dark hair and a tall, lanky frame. Somehow though, there was a resemblance, even if it was only because he imagined one.

He stiffened as she emerged from the doorway, his body tingling as he watched her slowly descend the stairs with her long, silky hair shimmering in the light. She talked to some friends, smiling, but this one wasn't as carefree as her sister had been at this age. No, she'd seen much already. She'd be a little bit of a challenge. All the more reason to take this slowly. As he watched her from the shadows, Angelus could sense the old feeling rising within him, the one he'd missed for far too long. No rushing, he reminded himself. Art takes time. He watched the girl head down the street and into the waning sunlight where he couldn't follow, but that was okay. He didn't need to follow yet. He already had more than enough from this first sight of the young woman. Though she may not be Buffy, Dawn truly was an inspiration. Angelus couldn't wait to turn that inspiration into a work of art.
 

TBC