Title: Hurricane, Chapter 3: Sheets of Rain

Author: Sandy S.

E-mail: ssoennin@juno.com

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN.

Spoilers: Set a few years after season 6

Summary: Dawn, a lot of blood, a disappearance, a search. Buffy’s worst nightmare comes true. Dawn’s POV. And Daniel is the same character from “The Admirer,” which in this time line took place approximately six months ago.

Sheets of Rain

“Alas! how easily things go wrong!
A sigh too deep or a kiss too long,
And then comes a mist and a weeping rain,
And life is never the same again.”
-From “Phantastes” by George MacDonald

“The soft drops of rain pierce the hard marble; many strokes overthrow the tallest oaks.”
-From “Euphues” by John Lyly

“So, do they ever check on us?” I asked the man sitting next to me on the one platform in the tiny closet of a room that could serve as a bed. The room was lit by a dim lightbulb and smelled like Spike’s car before he cleaned up the backseat...like a mix of stale alcohol and dried blood. I felt sort of nauseous at the thought. My clothes were missing, and I was wearing an ugly grey sweat suit.

Mr. Anderson rubbed his balding head with his right hand as he replied, “Only to feed us, but I never actually see them. Just the brown bags that slip through the crack in the door.”

“Oh.” The situation was becoming more and more dismal, and I’d only been awake for two or three hours. Of that time, Mr. Anderson had been conscious ten minutes. All he told me was that we were being imprisoned by a group of men.

I started pacing back and forth out of nervousness, a habit I’d probably learned from Spike. Mr. Anderson watched me dully.

“You know, I can’t really remember what happened to get me here. I mean, I was walking into the house with Spike after we went driving and then...nothing!” I threw my arms wide to emphasize the “nothing” part. “It’s like a whole chunk of time is missing from my brain!”

“I have memory loss, too.” My fellow captive was unfazed by my flustered behavior.

I halted in mid-pace and glanced at Mr. Anderson. “How’d you get here?”

“Same as everyone else,” he replied flatly. “The same way as you. I was working late at the office and got up to make a pot of coffee. Next thing I knew, I was here.”

“Everyone else? How many else? Who else?”

“There’s about twenty or thirty of us. All men. Some are my work competitors.” He seemed to consider something for a moment. Then, he met my eyes with his own. “But, you’re the only young girl. That’s strange.” His affect was so flat that he made “strange” sound like an everyday occurrence...well, not that strange things weren’t normal in my life.

“Who do you work for?” I questioned.

“No one. I’m the president of my business. It’s an international software company.”

“Oh.” The gears were clicking in my head. “Oh!” I was off in my own little world again as I realized what was happening. “We’re being held by that stupid gang of vamps!”

Mr. Anderson responded with disbelief, “Vamps? As in v-vampires?” Somehow he seemed to shrink further into himself.

Resuming my back and forth march, I continued talking to myself, “Why didn’t I see it sooner? But, why would they be after me? Well, duh, cause they want to get to Buffy!”

My eyes started traveling over the room. “I’ve gotta figure a way out of here.”

In that instant, the locked door swung open. “There is no way out,” a well-known voice stated.

As I recognized the person behind the vampire game face, a fist connected with the side of my head, and I slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

“Is she awake?” a deep voice snarled.

“Not yet, sir,” the familiar somewhat higher pitched voice sounded far away. Large, cold hands grasped my shoulders and roughly shook me. “Dawn! Wake up! Dawnnniiiie!”

The sting of a palm across my face stunned me fully awake. Blinking my eyes in the low lighting, I found myself kneeling on a tile floor and staring up at a human face...at....

“Daniel?”

“Yea, gorgeous, it’s me,” he greeted, using his familiar nickname for me.

At the sight of someone I knew and trusted, relief washed over me. “W-what happened? Where am I? How did you get me out?”

“Take a look around, Dawn.” He traced my cheekbone with a cool finger. “You’ll see.”

Then, I remembered that Daniel’s skull had been twisted and deformed and his teeth pointed and long before he knocked me out. Eyes wide, I surveyed the candle lit room. Five vampires in their game face formed a semi-circle around me. They remained as silent as statues. Each was dressed in solid black and wore a large silver charm on a heavy chain. Another figure stood apart from the group, wearing tailored clothing. Although he was in human face, I assumed he was also a vampire. Further in the shadows, I detected a small movement and glimpsed a dark form, but I was distracted when Daniel spoke again.

“Garrek, this one has special powers...like I told you.” Daniel placed a heavy hand on my shoulder.

The well-dressed vampire approached me, circling me and staring me down with dark black eyes. The magic radiated from him. A vampire who was also a warlock?

“Ahhh. You’re right, Daniel.” Garrek squatted before me. “Good work, son.”

Daniel’s grip on my shoulder loosened and lifted as he stepped back from me. Simultaneously, Garrek leaned toward me. The aura of lilacs and peppermint encased my mind, making me relax. As I let my muscles loosen and my wariness decrease, I felt something poking at the edge of my thoughts...like the tiniest pinpricks...urging me to part the walls that held the me that I knew together...to display myself to...this vampire.... With that thought, the boundaries in my mind cemented closed again. Garrek was trying to enthrall me...to get inside and manipulate my thoughts and feelings! But, Spike had taught me to evade the thrall with ease.

My face was determined, and I spat in Garrek’s face.

To my chagrin, he laughed, wiped his face with one hand, and stood, clapping his other hand on Daniel’s back. “Oh, Daniel, my boy, she does have power! I’m glad you did not let us kill her as planned. She will be of great help. She a friend of yours?”

Daniel nodded.

“Why don’t you take care of her until we can crack her. I’ll call for her when I need her.” Garrek dismissed Daniel with a wave of his hand.

“What about the slayer?” Daniel asked. My ears perked to hear the response.

“She’s out of the way. Don’t trouble yourself.” One of the other vampires in the room handed Garrek a flask and goblet. He poured himself a glass of thick fluid, probably blood.

“But, but, couldn’t she find us with a simple location spell?”

Instantly, Garrek flashed into game face. His eyes remained black as night, and his voice deepened into an eerie, threatening tone. “Dare you question me? Do you not think I have the power to block a simple location spell?”

Daniel bowed his head and backed away in abasement. His fingers dug into my arm, drawing me to my feet. He said nothing.

Garrek turned toward the other vampires who were clustering around him. “So, tell me about the operation in L.A. Did the takeover of sector twenty-five go smoothly?”

* * *

Daniel forced me along in front of him until we reached a small bedroom that lacked windows. He propelled me into the room, and I pitched forward onto the bed. He flicked on a lamp that rested on the bedside table before shutting and locking the door. As he neared me, I began to tremble. He gently brushed a lock of my hair aside, and I flinched when his cool finger contacted my skin.

He backed away, putting his hands up with his palms toward me. “Hey, Dawnie. I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

“What happened to you, Daniel?” I was terrified, but my voice was steady. I tried to remind myself that Daniel was no longer my friend from high school but a dangerous creature who would kill me in a heartbeat.

“What do you think, little Miss Slayer’s sister?” Daniel turned away from me and strode to the other side of the room.

Keeping my focus on him, I sighed, replying, “You were turned. When?”

Daniel was throwing some objects into what appeared to be his backpack from school. “Let’s just say, I was hanging out in the hospital one night watching over my sister.” Daniel’s sister was addicted to drugs and had been overdosing often of late.

“And?”

Searching for something he wasn’t finding, he grunted in impatience. His voice was strained as he bent over and looked under the bed. “And, I made friends with this guy who was in the hospital waiting room. We swapped stories. He bit me. The end.”

“Daniel, where are we?” I wanted information.

“In New Orleans,” he revealed. “In the back of a jazz club called ‘The Lean Monkey.’”

An object about nine inches long flew through the air at me. “Catch,” Daniel said lightly.

My hand flew up automatically, and I drew down a wooden stake. I thought I was surprised to see Daniel as a vampire. I was even more surprised that he was handing me a weapon that could kill him. “Daniel, what’s going on?”

“Guess.” He smiled at me, shouldering the backpack. I felt the usual rush of emotions I felt when I was close to him. Daniel was the big crush of my high school years with his dark hair, deep brown eyes, and well-defined body. Apparently, he still had a hold on me.

I changed my question. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because that Garrek is one fucked up dude.”

*Vampire.* Daniel was a vampire. He never used to curse. “Oh.” I paused. “What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t recognize my potential. I have first hand knowledge of the Slayer, and he hardly acknowledges me! I’m taking his latest prized possession...you...and striking out on my own.”

Okay, that sounded more like a vampire.

“So, why did you tell him about the energy inside me if he’s so messed up?” Being one of my ex-best friends, Daniel knew that I was once a mystical key that almost opened the doorway to a hell dimension and that I contained some kind of untapped, supernatural energy.

“I thought I would finally get some appreciation around here! But, I guess not!”

He switched off the lamp, so we were folded into the darkness. In case he decided to attack me, I gripped the stake firmly. As my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he unlocked and re-opened the door to his room. I didn’t move.

“Are you coming, or what?” he asked, glaring at me impatiently.

I hopped to my feet and proceeded through the doorway. I figured I could take on one vamp better than an unknown number of vamps with a warlock as the leader. I held up the stake as I passed him. “And you gave me a stake because...?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I could’ve kicked myself for asking the question.

“Oh, I know you couldn’t kill me, Dawnie,” he whispered, his breath flowing over my earlobe, causing me to shiver. “You know me too well...like Spike. And, I’ve seen you dust other vamps. You’re pretty handy with a stake.”

* * *

Live jazz music floated and bumped around the large, crowded lounge and bar. A neon sign of a skinny monkey playing a saxophone hung behind the band. The audience was surprisingly human. Therefore, I blended well with the gathering as Daniel led me out of the vampire hideout, through the clouds of smoke and hazy lights, and onto the streets of New Orleans.

The humidity was smothering after being in the air-conditioned club, and I felt like I was inhaling liquid. The nightlife was abuzz in the streets of the French Quarter, and I was greeted by an alien accumulation of unusual sights, sounds, and smells as Daniel tugged me down St. Peter’s Street toward the busier Bourbon Street where we could hide.

St. Paul’s Cathedral rose up like a white giant to my right, and I could not help staring at the large building that starkly contrasted with the surrounding architecture. When Daniel jerked me to the left, I almost ran into the wraith-like figure of a homeless woman who was muttering incoherently to herself. My eyes went wide at the row of artists selling their water color and oil paintings on the side of the road and at the fortune tellers who shot me beguiling smiles as if to beckon me closer. A bereft and filthy child sat on the edge of the sidewalk, holding a sign that said how hungry she was. Her gaze met mine, and I wished I had something to give her. Daniel hurried me past a little courtyard restaurant that sold hot bowls of cajun gumbo and a piano bar selling an alcoholic beverage called a hurricane.

As we approached Bourbon Street, the raw stench of urine and beer almost made me gag. I witnessed a man stagger and almost fall only to be caught by a woman who held him up. Another young woman about my age was squatting in the gutter and throwing up on her shoes. Exiting a strip bar, a prostitute covered in tattoos wiggled her way down the street and entered the orgy house. Amidst the drunken crowd were parents with small children who were taking everything in with round, innocent eyes.

Without any indication, Daniel directed me rapidly into a nearby hotel lobby. His face suggested a new tension. We hastened by an older couple dressed in formal clothing and halted in a darkened corridor near a curtained window that overlooked Bourbon Street. Daniel was shaking as he peeked around the curtain.

“Why are we here?” I asked, worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

“One of Garrek’s men,” he said tersely, “is out there.”

Pressing against Daniel’s chest, I tried to see what Daniel viewed. One of the tall vampires who had been in the room with Garrek stood just across the busy street. He clutched a walkie talkie similar to the one Riley, Buffy’s ex-boyfriend, used to carry on demon raids when he worked for the Initiative, a government operation that had come years ago to Sunnydale to study demons.

Several minutes later, Daniel whispered, “He’s gone.”

We made our way out of the hotel lobby and onto the street once more. Rushing by a small horse drawn carriage that people were climbing into for night tours of the French Quarter, we came across a small, unlocked car near Burgandy Street. I opened the driver’s side door and slid onto the leather seat. Daniel climbed into the passenger’s side. He watched with awe as I yanked some wires out of the dashboard and started the car in a matter of seconds.

“H-how did you do that?” he wondered.

I smiled. “Spike taught me.” When Daniel still appeared baffled, I added proudly, “First driving lesson. He wanted to make sure I knew what to do in an emergency. Willow will be probably be a little angry. I did this in her car.”

“Oh.” He remained stunned for a moment. Then, putting on his game face to intimidate me, he demanded, “Get out. I’m in charge. I’m going to drive.”

I quickly obeyed and ran around the front of the car to sit where Daniel was located. Before I could get into the car, however, something metal jabbed into my back.

The vampire’s voice was harsh, “Okay! Come on. We’re taking you back to the Lean Monkey.”

A second vampire materialized out of the nearby shadows and hauled Daniel out of the car. He was the one Daniel and I had seen out of the hotel window. After he secured Daniel, he activated the walkie talkie.

“We have them. We’re ready to bring them back for transport.”

End chapter 3

**Note: Garrek means “oak spear.” Daniel’s death was foreshadowed in “The Admirer.” Also, all the places that were referred to in New Orleans are real places except for The Lean Monkey.**

Title: Hurricane, Chapter 4: Winds of Jealousy

Author: Sandy S.

E-mail: ssoennin@juno.com

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN.

Spoilers: Set a few years after season 6

Dedication: For Thia...who is a new and dear friend and whose creativity inspires me! :o)

Summary: Dawn, a lot of blood, a disappearance, a search. Buffy’s worst nightmare comes true. This chapter is Buffy’s POV. Buffy and Willow travel to find Spike in New Orleans. Buffy deals with her feelings about what’s happened to Dawn and what’s possibly happening with Spike. Oh, boy, an angsty chapter! Notably, Buffy and Willow are on Interstate 10 while traveling.

Winds of Jealousy

-From Paradise Lost by John Milton

My feelings about everything that recently occurred were too overwhelming to process. My usual reaction when I felt out of control was to *do* something physical like workout, slay some demons, or...engage in other strenuous activities. However, I couldn’t do a whole lot while stuck in a car with Willow for hours. Good thing she was behind the wheel. I was left with large amounts of time to stare out the window, daydream, and perhaps occasionally help Willow locate highway signs and turnoffs. Finding things like street signs was difficult when the wind swept rain against and rocked the vehicle.

The car’s blinker began clicking, and Willow guided the car onto the exit lane, leaving the highway behind. I reached up the fingers of my right hand as the droplets on the passenger-side window streaked from their original path and flowed in an alternate direction.

“Willow, why are we getting off?” I glanced at the map splayed open on my lap. We couldn’t possibly be near the next turn our route.

Willow giggled. “Ice cream...I need ice cream.” She pulled the car into a parking spot in the lot of a nationwide food chain that punctuated every few miles along the interstate. “Oz and I used to stop on every trip to get an ice cream cone. It’s one of the things I remember most about him and one of the things I promised myself I wouldn’t forget to do while traveling. Tara always thought it was cute that I kept doing it even when she and I went on trips together.”

“Oh.”

Willow had the funniest little sentimental traditions.

“And, I have to use the restroom. Too much coffee,” she added, waving her empty gas station mug and letting me know she wasn’t stopping just for a treat. Her car door opened, letting in a cold draft of air and a fine liquid mist. “Do you want one?” she asked when I remained unmoving.

I shook my head. “Nah. I’ll sit this one out.” Grasping the edges of the map, I held the paper up, mock-studying the route. “I’ll figure out where we are.”

She grinned. “Okay. Be back in a sec.”

The car door slammed, shutting out the sounds of the highway and precipitation and enclosing me in a heavy warmth. Feeling almost suffocated and claustrophobic, which was not something I wanted to re-experience after being buried alive, I hastily rolled down the window, now grateful for the fresh scent of the icy water drops in the midst of the humidity. I was also thankful for the stolen moments to think.

What had happened in the last several hours? I closed my eyes, knowing that the stimuli infiltrating my other senses were only blocking my memories. Chewing on my lower lip, I skimmed over the events like they were part of a slide show.

One, Spike was gone along with all his possessions, and Dawn’s room was coated in *her own* blood...no trace of her body to be found. Two, Willow’s witch friend from school, Cynthia, had done a location spell, searching for Dawn and Spike. Dawn hadn’t turned up at all, and Spike’s indicator had been in a place called Stillwater, Oklahoma but then changed to a movement headed toward and then into Louisiana. Willow reassured me that Dawn not being located didn’t mean she was dead and that magick wasn’t perfect. But, I wasn’t so sure. Three, we had no answered questions about the dusted vamps in the mansion. However, since things were as quiet as they could be on the hellmouth, Willow and I could go after Spike and hopefully get some answers about him and Dawn. Xander and Anya were staying behind to take care of things in Sunnydale...like slaying and their jobs. I had called the employers at the jobs Spike and I worked and arranged temporary leaves of absence.

Gosh...everything boiled down to one, two, three. If only my feelings were as simple as the facts. Hot tears welled behind my eyelids, and I opened my eyes after an indeterminable amount of time to find Willow sitting next to me with her vanilla ice cream forgotten in her hand.

Passing me a napkin, she smiled compassionately and said, “I was wondering when you were going to cry.”

Through my tears, I laughed shakily and blotted my cheeks. “Yea, I guess I tend to hold things in, huh?”

“Understatement of the year,” she replied.

I didn’t say what was bothering me, and after years of observing my behavior, Willow knew better than to ask. Instead, she continued, “So, did you pinpoint our exact location?” She peeked over at the crumpled map that was crookedly balanced on my thighs. “Let’s see, we’re probably about near Baton Rouge...hmmm, right h...”

“Willow,” I burst out, “it hurts so much. Why did Spike do this to me?” *Like all the others...* How many times had I had this conversation with Willow? A shot of guilt flew momentarily through me...well...not since she moved back into the house five months ago...actually, not for about three years. I felt a little better about burdening her.

Compassion overwhelmed her features, and disposing of her ice cream cone out the window, she let me sob with my head on her shoulder for several minutes.

When my tears had finally ceased, she spoke, “Oh, Buffy, I don’t know why he would do something like this. I don’t think we have all the answers yet. Don’t worry, we’ll find him, and he’s probably all safe with Dawn. There’s probably a good explanation for everything.”

I looked up at her with wide eyes. “But, what if it’s not...all okay, I mean? What if there’s no explanation? What if Dawn’s...what if something terrible has happened to Dawn? I-I mean, the spell couldn’t locate her...”

“The spell isn’t perfect,” Willow patiently repeated. She wiped my tears away with her other napkin. “And there’ll be an explanation. There always is. Until then, we gotta keep thinking positive and keep going, so we can figure this out.”

“I don’t know if I have any positive-ness left in me,” I said despondently.

“Well, I have enough for both of us,” she maintained with her confident, everything-will-be-all-right tone.

“Good.” My eyes dropped to the napkin twisted in my hands. “Why do the guys I fall in love with always have some major problem or do something horrible and twisted to hurt me? Why can’t I meet a nice guy who doesn’t do stuff like this...who doesn’t hurt me so bad? I mean, Spike even promised that he would never hurt me when we started over.”

“Well, everybody hurts the other person when they’re in a relationship. You’ve just had some extreme examples. And, you haven’t heard Spike’s side, yet. Maybe he has a real understandable reason for what he’s done. I mean, in the last three years, has he given you any reason to doubt his love and concern? Has he given you any reason not to trust him?”

“Well, no.”

“See, that’s better than both Angel and Riley. Maybe you should continue that trust just a little longer ‘til we hear from him.”

“Maybe.” I knew that Willow was just trying to convince me to keep going, and she had a point about trusting Spike. However, given my track record with men, accepting that was easier said than done. All my previous relationships had ended up causing pain to me and the people I cared most about.

“And, hey, we’ll royally kick Spike’s butt no matter what’s happened.”

“We will?” My tone contained a spark of hope, partly for my own sanity and partly for Willow’s.

“Yep! We definitely will.” She started the engine.

“Okay.” I sniffled and presented Willow with a lopsided smile. “Pity party’s over. Let’s go! Spike’s butt is waiting.”

* * *

Bampf!

Just outside of Baton Rouge, the unexpected sharp noise from the back seat made Willow and I start in our seats. My heart thundered wildly as I flew forward and seized the dashboard to steady myself. Willow jerked the steering wheel to the right to avoid smashing into the van in front of us. The car swerved almost off the shoulder of the road into the marshy swampland that seemed to be pervasive in Louisiana even along the highways.

“Anya!” Willow yelped as she steadied the car’s path. “Don’t do that! You almost got us killed!”

“Sorry,” Anya grumped from behind us. I could almost picture her arms crossed and her face in a characteristic pout.

“Yea, Anya,” I added, “We brought the cell phone with us if you remember.” I held up the hunter green phone. “And look.” I twisted around to show her more closely and pointed at the tiny blinking screen. “I set it to on like Xander told us to do when it was in range of the tower thingy.”

“Couldn’t you have just tried to call us first?” Willow suggested, looking at Anya in the rearview mirror.

“Oh, didn’t think of that. Xander told me to take care of contacting you guys while he went and took care of the other things,” Anya replied, thoughtfully. “Maybe next time.”

Resuming a more comfortable position in the seat, I sighed. “You have news for us, Anya?”

“Oh, yes. Very good news. Xander and I agreed that you would be very pleased and should know right away. He wanted to tell you himself, but he had to take care of those other things, which I’ll tell you about as soon as I tell you about the other. I’m kinda worried about him, so I’ll have to keep it brief. Don’t want him to do what he’s doing by himself. But you know how men are...always trying to take care of things by themselves and insisting on not taking any help when it’s offered. Well, I think that...”

“Anya!” Willow rolled her eyes at me and broke into Anya’s continuing irrelevant rant. “What do you have to tell us?”

“Oh, yea! Sorry. You know me...rambling off the subject.” Anya ceased talking with her hands as she had been and leaned closer between the bucket seats. “What was I supposed to share...oh, yes! Dawn was located! Willow’s friend found her!”

“Really!” My breath caught in my throat. “Where?”

“In New Orleans...the French Quarter. Willow’s friend...Cynthia, is that her name?...said that Dawn’s presence was only detected for a brief window of time. Then, she disappeared again.”

“Why?” My questions were unelaborated. I was anxious for more information and the bare facts.

“Well,” Anya explained, “probably some other magick is hiding her location.”

“That’s interesting,” Willow commented. “Must be someone with power.”

“Yes. Spike’s in New Orleans, too. Same area.” Then, Anya noticed the wires hanging down from the dash near Willow’s steering wheel. “Wow, he and Dawn did a number on your car, Willow. It must have been some first driving lesson.”

“Is that all you know, Anya?” I pressed.

“Well, there is something in Sunnydale,” she said, fingering the silver charm that she always wore around her neck.

“What?”

“Just the normal vampire activity. Xander went out to wait by a couple of fresh graves. Speaking of which, I better get back to help him.”

“Who were they?” I vaguely wondered if they might be related to the vamps in the mansion.

“Umm. A local anesthesiologist. And the nurse from his office, I think.”

“Hmmm.” I filed away the information for later. “Okay, thanks, Anya. Guess we’ll head to New Orleans. Won’t take but about two hours, right?”

Keeping her eyes fixed on the road, Willow nodded. “Better help Xander, Anya.”

“You’re welcome. And okay.” Anya acknowledged me and Willow, respectively. Her arm made a small move to teleport away.

Before she could vanish, I had a recommendation. “And, Anya?”

“What?” She sounded slightly annoyed.

I peered back at her and waved the cell phone at her. “Call next time.”

She smiled, eyes sparkling with mirth. Then, she was gone.

* * *

The crowd on Bourbon Street was thinning during mid-week as I expected. Willow and I walked casually down the trash-laden, car-less street, blending in with the throng of people like tourists in our sun dresses. I observed a rat creeping past a man standing in front of a seafood restaurant. The apron-clad man was clutching a stack of menus and urging people to enter and eat. I wrinkled my nose. Who would want to eat in a rat-filled restaurant on a street that smelled like something rotten? I supposed that the ambiance of New Orleans was what mattered and not the quality of the health control or the food. We passed a kareoke and piano bar and several tiny hole-in-the-wall shops selling brightly painted porcelain masks, Mardi Gras beads, cheap T-shirts, and postcards.

“Buffy, what are we looking for again?” Willow seemed uncertain as she stared wide-eyed at the strip bars on the left.

“Vamps.” I was resolute, professional slayer Buffy now. My every sense organ was on alert.

“Oh.” She skittered to the left when a tall, scantily-dressed drag queen stepped suddenly out of the door to a private bar. “Seen any, yet?”

“One or two, but they haven’t *felt* right. Know what I mean?”

“I guess so.” Willow tucked strands of red hair behind her ears with both hands and then patted the travel pack attached around her waist. “Got the stakes ready to assist with the slayage whenever you’re ready, Dr. Summers.”

“We won’t need them right away,” I assured my friend, pausing in my search to offer her a smile. “I’ll let you know. Right now, we’re just looking for a vamp to follow.”

“Oh.” She seemed mollified by my explanation.

Then, I saw *him*.

The right vampire.

I slowed Willow down with a hand on her forearm. She glanced in the direction I was looking. A tall dark-haired vampire dressed in a dark suit and wearing a large silver charm on a chain around his neck was skulking in the opposite direction from where we were walking. He was attempting to camouflage himself in the crowd of tourists but failing miserably.

“Him?” she whispered in my ear.

I nodded, stealthily permitting the vamp to walk past and then changing directions to pursue him. He guided a trembling Willow and I through the nearly empty streets south of Bourbon Street. Ignoring the extraneous sights around me, I remained focused on not allowing him to sense us in any way until we could catch up to and question him.

On a street close to the Mississippi River, the vamp entered a night club, ostentatiously called “The Lean Monkey.” Jazz music poured out of every crack in the old building. What did I expect in New Orleans?

“Are we going in?” Willow asked, bringing me out of my reverie.

“What? Yes. Just giving him a minute to get in further. No need to crowd him in the doorway.”

“What exactly are we trying to do?”

“I just have a feeling...you’ll have to trust me on this one, Will.” I didn’t know exactly what I was going to do with this particular vampire. I was relying on my slayer instinct.

She unzipped her pouch, removing two wooden stakes. “I’m getting these out, then. Just in case.”

“Good idea.” I took the stake she extended.

* * *

Tailing people, much less vampires, without them noticing me was not my strongest ability. In this instance, however, the crowds made things much easier on me. Huddled in a corner near the bar, Willow and I searched for our vampire target by scanning over the people who were sitting on bar stools, standing, and dancing to the slow number that blared over the speakers.

“There he is,” Willow said just loudly enough so she could be heard over the music and conversation.

Squinting through the cigarette smoke haze, my heart dropped. *Spike.* Spike was here...on the dance floor...in the arms of another woman...a *very* beautiful woman with auburn hair, flawless skin, a skimpy black dress, and tall pumps. Words could not describe the raw pain that twisted within me.

Willow saw my stricken expression and looked confused until she glimpsed what I was seeing. Anger snapped inside me, replacing the hurt and spreading a smoldering fire through my limbs and into my face. My fists clenched involuntarily. I felt something in my hand...my stake. All at once, I knew for what purpose I could use the wood.

“Buffy!” Willow asserted. “In this case, violence is not the answer. Isn’t that what you were saying outside on the street?”

“No,” I growled, ready to fight my way through anything in my path. Sweat beaded on my forehead. Humidity even permeated the air inside the club. “Now *is* the time to get answers from a very doomed vamp whose name is Spike.”

Willow wrapped her fingers around my fist that held the stake. “Wait, Buffy. Look.”

Doubtfully, I surveyed the street vamp sidle up to Spike and that...that...*her*. Spike slipped out of the embrace, turning to speak with the other vampire. Willow tugged me along, remaining in the shadows. She was drawing us nearer the conversation, so we could eavesdrop.

When Willow and I finally found a place to roost, I forcibly calmed my rage further as I strained to hear what Spike was saying. As soon as I stopped moving, Spike’s head lifted briefly. Confusion and uncertainty...and love?...flickered across his face as he glanced around as if searching for something. My heart foolishly danced with hope. Part of me longed for him to find me in the din of the club and chase all my fears away. But, just as quickly as he was distracted from what he was saying, he refocused. Disappointment soared, especially when *she* clasped his hand. I seethed inside at what I was witnessing.

Abruptly, Spike whipped out a wooden stake from an unknown hiding place, and the vampire we’d been following exploded into a cloud of dust. I was shocked when the people around him didn’t even seem to notice. People in New Orleans must be highly habituated to weird occurrences...or maybe everyone was just drunk by midnight.

“Buffy, did you get that?” Willow was talking to me.

“Get what?” Had I missed something?

“What the vamp said to Spike?” she asked impatiently.

“I couldn’t hear a thing.” Distracted by my feelings, I hadn’t heard anything.

“Boy, for someone with supposed heightened slayer senses, you sure are deaf.”

I glared at her, and she snickered. The music changed, and I noted that Spike was gone. *Damn! I was so ready to kick his butt!*

Returning to serious mode, Willow reported, “Travis said...”

“Who’s Travis?”

“The other vamp. Anyway, Travis said that he was left behind by his gang. He’d been out hunting, and they forgot him. Apparently, he recognized Spike. He was one of Spike’s old minions. Anyway, when Spike asked Travis for the full story, he said that his group took several older men and a young girl out of New Orleans because of a security breach.”

“Security breach?” I fought the urge to chase after Spike.

“I’m betting that Dawn made a little escape.”

“Oh!” That made perfect sense to me. Dawn was turning out to be a resourceful young woman. Spike and I had raised her well in the last few years. I mentally shook myself. No thoughts about Spike allowed! They only hurt.

“And then, they recaptured her.”

“Where did Travis say they went?”

“Some place in Texas...just over the Louisiana-Texas border...back the direction we came.”

I was quiet.

“Buffy?” Willow prodded gently. “You do realize what this means?”

“What?” My eyes were wide with vulnerability...*so* not a good trait for a slayer who needed to be currently prepared for battle.

“Spike didn’t hurt Dawn. He’s trying to save her.”

“But, why’s he with that other...woman?”

“I don’t know that one. Maybe she’s helping him in some capacity.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t too certain about the helping part. She was probably “helping” him in more ways than one. “Wait. What about all the blood in Dawn’s room...I mean, it was her blood and everything...and Spike’s missing stuff?”

“I don’t know the answer to that one either, Buffy.”

Straightening my shoulders in determination, I brushed the stray tears out of the corners of my eyes. “Texas, it is.”

end of chapter 4

**Note, Travis means “at the crossroads,” which is symbolic of this chapter.**

Title: Hurricane, Chapter 5: Merging Maelstrom

Author: Sandy S.

E-mail: ssoennin@juno.com

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN.

Spoilers: Set a few years after season 6

Dedication: For Thia...who is a new and dear friend and whose creativity inspires me! :o)

Summary: Dawn, a lot of blood, a disappearance, a search. Buffy’s worst nightmare comes true. Spike’s POV. Spike and Callie are traveling to Texas when they run across a little problem.

Merging Maelstrom

Running my finger over the wrinkled picture of Buffy that I always carried with me, I closed my eyes, pulling forth the memories of her sweet scent, her golden hair that glinted in the lights, her brilliant green eyes that shone with love for me (for *me*?), and her soft tiny fingers that stroked the skin on my face. Even after three years with her, I remained amazed that I was with her at all. I wondered what she was doing now. For a brief instant, I had thought I sensed her in the jazz club in New Orleans. Maybe I just missed her.

“What are you thinking about?” Callie was driving, but she noticed the change in my demeanor.

“Not what...who. I’m thinking about Buffy. I wish I’d taken the time to try and call her again before we left New Orleans.” I opened my eyes, taking one last glance at Buffy’s image before shoving the photo in my jeans pocket. I was partially irritated at being caught daydreaming about Buffy again.

Since I’d rescued Callie from Paul, she and I had traveled across the states together. We’d become rather close. She knew that I worked for and loved the Slayer, that I had a soul, and that I was searching for Dawn who was almost like my little sister. Callie didn’t seem to care about anything except the fact that I’d rescued her from Paul, and therefore, she granted me her loyalty and assistance until she felt her debt was paid. She was unaware of my personal theories about what was happening.

“How many times have you tried to call now?”

“I can’t remember. Every time, I keep getting the sodding answering machine.”

Glancing over at me with her red curls floating across her shoulders, she smiled. “Why don’t you try leaving her a message, silly?”

“Because I don’t want to tell her what’s going on in a message. I’d rather tell her live and in-person...even if over the phone. I’d *like* to get Dawn back before something else goes wrong.”

“Do you really think Buffy’s sitting around waiting for your phone call?”

I sighed unnecessarily. “No, of course not! That isn’t who Buffy is. She’ll be figuring this out on her own. But, it’s not like I could stop her even if she knew I was on it. Sod it! I don’t know what to do! So, I’m just going to continue on with this path! Buffy can take care of herself, and this way, I don’t have to deal with her bitching about what I should and shouldn’t be doing!”

“It would interfere with your ability to think?” Callie surmised aloud, not hiding the sarcasm in her tone.

I slouched in the seat. “Yea.” I punched the car door in frustration. “I hate this being in the car business! Can’t do anything in the car.”

Callie switched gears. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping? It’s my shift to drive; yours to sleep.”

“Sleep? I normally sleep during the day...awake at night,” I grumped. “I *am* a vampire the last time I checked.”

“Well, did you at least drink your dinner?”

“No,” I replied sulkily, re-shutting my eyes. Despite the fact that I was over one hundred years older than Callie, sometimes I felt like a little kid around her mothering nature.

A second later, a strange feeling twisted in my gut...the kind of uncomfortable but not quite painful feeling I only received around magick...extremely powerful magick. So much for sleep.

My muscles and skin tingling violently, I sat up abruptly.

“Stop the car, Callie!” I knew Callie must feel the magick, too, but I didn’t question why she wasn’t reacting. “Now!”

* * *

Thirteen six-foot tall, well-muscled K’Charra demons stood with their arms linked in an up-raised clearing beyond moss-laden trees rooted in the sinking marsh lands just beyond the edge of the highway. Torches were attached to the trees, lighting the clearing. Arranged around the demons, twenty-six men dressed in light grey sweat suits were tied with thick ropes to thirteen jagged wooden posts that jutted up above the men’s heads. Their mouths were gagged with rags, and the heady scent of fear rolled off their bodies, causing an unintentional growl to emit from my throat.

The horned, dark grey demons were chanting simultaneously in a deep guttural language. K’Charra demons were known for drawing the energy of souls from their victims and channeling the energy to a source who could then use the energy to cast a variety of dangerous spells. When the K’Charra ritual was complete, the bodies of the victims disintegrated into nothing.

Without a doubt, I knew who the source was. And comprehending that information, I recognized that I was walking into a trap. And sod everything in hell and on earth! My conscience notified me that I couldn’t just walk away from the situation...the human life...not as I would have in the past.

When Callie spoke softly behind me as she peered over my shoulder, I noticed that my jaw and fists were clenched. “Spike, what’s going on?”

The demons’ voices were increasing in volume and becoming a constant hum, and a glowing mist was rising from the men and merging in the middle of the circle over the demons’ heads.

Leaping through the underbrush ready for battle, I called back at her, “I’m gonna stop this ritual, ducks! If you want to help, follow my lead!” When I jerked the first demon from his position in the chain, the shimmering vapor dissipated, and the ritual was disrupted. The men recovered the soul energy they had lost and slipped into unconsciousness. They would likely sleep through their entire rescue.

Callie scrambled after me. “What do I do?”

Punching the demon in the face, I replied calmly, “Go for the neck. The only way to kill them is to break the neck.”

As Callie joined the fray, I grasped the first demon’s head and twisted as he flailed his limbs helplessly at me. I smiled grimly at the satisfying crunching sound.

One down...about twelve....

Clinging to the back of one of the giant scaly demons, Callie overpowered him, breaking his neck. Landing neatly on her feet as the lifeless demon body fell, she grinned at me.

Eleven to go.

We had the advantage of surprise, but now the K’Charra demons were recovering from the shock and were moving as a unit toward us. We were badly outnumbered. Damn! Why couldn’t they attack us one at a time like good little demons?

“Spike, we’re stuck!” Callie lamented.

Even as adrenaline rushed through my borrowed blood, an uncanny repose washed over me. Oh, well. I shrugged my shoulders. I loved a challenge, especially when the risk involved fighting. Shaking my head, I forced on my vamp face with minimum effort. If the demons were advancing on us, I would advance first.

Lunging at the K’Charra demon leading the pack, I knocked him back with a sharp kick to his head, deftly dodging his neighbor’s arm that swung through the air where my head once was.

Donning her ridges and fangs in imitation of me, Callie snarled and scooted into the fight after me, punching, kicking, and scratching with her sharp fingernails. “You’re crazy!”

“I know,” I answered, sweeping another demon off his feet as I grabbed another’s forearm, wrenched it behind his back, and cracked his neck.

Time passed quickly, and the K’Charra demons’ muscular advantage and our waning endurance became apparent. We somehow managed to kill three more demons. My shirt got torn off at some point, and Callie’s ponytail fell so that she was constantly blowing and shaking curls out of her face. I was pushing most of the demons away from me, and Callie fought them off with her back to mine. We were on the defensive.

Suddenly, I felt cool air rush over the bare skin on my back as one of the demons ripped Callie back.

“Spike!” Her voice was frightened.

I whirled just in time to see the K’Charra demon slam her against the closest tree, an exposed branch narrowly missing her heart. Before I could help her, a demon fist smashed into my upper back, stunning me and knocking me to the moist ground. The owner of the fist sank to his knees over me. I felt his hands gripping my neck. I closed my eyelids, waiting for the expected crunch of my neck.

Just then, Callie shrieked as the demon holding her against the tree slapped her cheek with a taloned hand, leaving deep grooves in her flesh. The demon hovering over me paused, and my eyes shot open. Blood poured over Callie’s cold skin, and the metallic odor reinvigorated my body. Intending to decapitate her, Callie’s demon closed his large hand around her pale, slender neck.

In one motion, I dug my fingers into the damp clay, shifted my weight onto to my forearms, and twisted my hips so that my legs tossed the demon on my back over my head. His hands loosened automatically as he tried to avoid landing on his head. Springing toward Callie, I shoved the other demon away from her.

Callie sank to the ground, rubbing her neck gently with the muddy, blood-covered fingertips of one hand. With the other hand, she pushed the flapping skin of her cheek back up to its original position on her face.

“Are you okay?” I asked with concern.

She didn’t look at me and didn’t respond with words. Instead, her expression told me everything I needed to know. The converging demons were reflected in her eyes.

We were in big, big trouble.

* * *

The clear, incisive voice that rose over the din of the K’Charra demons’ approaching grunts was like heavenly music to my ears.

“So, what’s it take for a girl to get an invite to the fun?”

As the demons turned toward the new sound, they parted to reveal the Slayer with her legs spread, and her hands placed lightly on her hips. Tilting her head so that her blond hair swayed to the right, she smiled at them. A scarlet-capped, grim-faced Willow stood slightly in the background, an ax held firmly in a ready position.

“Cause I must say, it looks like you’ve started on the party games. And Willow and I want to play.”

Brandishing the ax, Willow stepped out of the shadows. “What do you say here in Louisiana? Laissez les bon temps rouler? I’m ready to let the good times...uhm, heads roll.”

Leaving their backs vulnerable, the K’Charra demons flew at the two women as a group. While Buffy and Willow began their attack, Callie and I completed the offense from behind. The battle gained a new energy in our favor. Willow hacked at the demons until they fell and then chopped their heads off. Buffy was kicking, punching, ducking, and rolling as she confused and beat down each demon in her path. Callie and I fought hard as well but were evidently more exhausted than the two newcomers.

At one point, Buffy reached my side.

“So, Spike. What’s with the...the...your partner?” she asked casually as she flipped a demon so that his head crashed into the ground, breaking his neck cleanly.

“Her name is Callie.” I smirked, blocking a demon’s blows. “Jealous, love?”

Even though I couldn’t look at her, I could almost visualize her eyebrows lift at my comment. “No,” she asserted firmly as she danced around the demon I just felled. “Just wondering is all.”

“Uh, huh.”

Buffy didn’t have time to formulate a response because the fight separated us again. I noted that Willow and Callie had paired together to rally against the demons attacking them. As I wrestled with my own K’Charra demon, I witnessed Willow being picked up and thrown across the clearing. She landed with a thunk, losing consciousness. Callie continued working, protecting herself and the fallen woman.

I managed to kill the demon assaulting me and saw Buffy in front of me with the final demon. Instantly, the demon maneuvered Buffy near one of the long broad poles that held two of the still senseless men. He tipped the wooden pole, successfully pinning Buffy to the ground. As soon as I knew that she was struggling to no avail, I rammed into the demon’s body and reached up, ending his life.

At Buffy’s side, I squatted, tenderly brushing her hair out of her face. “Buffy? Are you okay? Can you move?”

Tears glistened in her eyes as she grimaced. “I t-think I’ll be okay...I’m just stunned. Give me a sec.” Raw pain registered on her face as she tried to push up with her arms. “Ouch. Damn.” She laid back down.

I circled her worriedly. The men attached to the pole were still gone to the world. “I don’t want to move anything until I find out where you’re injured....And I think I’ll have to get Callie to help me move this thing that’s on top of you.”

“Spike. Come here.” Her voice sounded urgent.

Kneeling beside her again, I caressed her cheek. Despite her injury, her heartbeat sounded steady and strong. “What, pet?”

“I-I still love you.”

Bending forward, I kissed her forehead, inhaling the familiar scent of her sweat and shampoo. “I love you, too,” I reassured her, clasping her hand briefly and awkwardly.

To my astonishment, she seemed relieved.

“Did you think I stopped, Buffy?”

“I don’t understand what’s happening.”

“Neither do I. But I have some theories.”

Buffy closed her eyes, wincing from the discomfort. When she opened her lids, her attention returned to the immediate situation. “Spike? How’s Willow?”

Callie’s stance near Willow mirrored my own next to Buffy. “Callie’s tending to Red.”

“Is she okay?” She paused. “Willow, I mean.”

My eyes detected Willow’s chest rising and falling. “She’s alive but unconscious.”

The log shifted, and Buffy groaned, almost slipping into the darkness of oblivion. I couldn’t bear to see her suffer.

“Callie! Could you assist me in getting this off of Buffy?”

“Sure!”

As Callie approached, I kept my eyes fixed on Buffy, so when a needle pricked my arm, I was caught off guard. My muscles immediately began to weaken, but my vision was clear as I saw Callie sneering at me from above.

“Callie?”

Merely watching me, Callie said nothing in response. The truth thundered through my brain. I turned back to Buffy who was striving against the pain to free herself from her burden.

Feeling like my mind was melting away, I left Buffy with a final message.

“Find Dawn first.”

End of chapter 5

**Note: This is a personal note that you may want to skip! :o) When I was in the high school marching band eons ago...the announcer would introduce our band each time with "Let the good times roll!" in French! So, thought I'd put it in the story since it's partly set in Cajun country...**

Title: Hurricane, Chapter 6: Against the Tide

Author: Sandy S.

E-mail: ssoennin@juno.com

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN.

Spoilers: Set a few years after season 6

Dedication: For Thia...who is a new and dear friend and whose creativity inspires me! :o)

Summary: Dawn, a lot of blood, a disappearance, a search. Buffy’s worst nightmare comes true. Dawn’s POV. Dawn is being held and abused by Garrek. Takes place in Beaumont, Texas. Okay, a little bit of violence against Dawn in this chapter.

Against the Tide

-From “Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage” by Lord Byron

“What’s that horrible smell?” I asked boldly, determined not to show my captors the heightened fear I felt. I was only eighteen-years-old, but being the sister of the Slayer and being partially raised by a vampire was sort of conducive to growing up faster than most teenagers my age. Therefore, I could hide my emotions with ease.

Garrek’s minions were busily chaining me to a wall in a charred dorm building on a local university campus. The dorm, which I learned had been burnt beyond repair during a construction accident, was the perfect place to hold prisoners because the building was completely abandoned and was surrounded by a large chain fence. The manacles the vamps were using on me were cold and hard against my wrists and ankles. Garrek observed a safe distance away, smiling through the dark beard on his face. All the vampires continued to wear the ebony-colored clothing and the silver charms.

“That, my dear, is the smell of industry...the intoxicating perfume of pollution.” Garrek spoke each syllable deliberately as he approached my now inert form.

“Why is that good?” I wondered aloud. I bit my lip. I could use the magic that Willow had taught me to free myself, but what could I possibly do if I got loose...except get killed?

Garrek’s foul breath swept over my cheeks, and I valiantly kept myself from shuddering. “Because industry means money...and power.” He stepped back, gesturing with his arms toward his minions. “And isn’t attaining money and power the whole reason for existing here on this planet?” The vampires grunted in agreement and flashed pointed teeth at me.

Retorting quickly, I did my best to imitate Buffy’s confident quips. “Nope. Sorry, but I don’t agree. I guess I missed that class. Maybe you missed the one on developing a conscience and having empathy for others so that you could develop healthy relationships.” Well, my little speech was probably not exactly what Buffy would have said.

I was rewarded with a sound slap to my cheekbone and eye. Wincing and blowing the long hair out of my mouth, I stared into Garrek’s glaring eyes. I blinked rapidly in attempt to wash the fresh blood out of my eye.

“Well, missy, you’re in my classroom now.” With that statement, the vampire leader extended his thick red tongue, pressing the saliva-laden muscle to my face and licking up the blood that exuded from my injuries.

Gleeful at my horrified expression, he moved away again, snapping his fingers. “Bring Daniel out here.”

Two more vampires dragged Daniel from the next room. His appearance was one of someone who had been beaten within inches of permanent death. His bare back and chest were lacerated with whip and holy water burns, blood encrusted knife carvings, and indigo bruises. His eyes were squinted and swollen. One side of his rib cage appeared partially concave. He wore nothing but a torn pair of jeans. He couldn’t stand on his own, so the vampires held him on his feet.

“Now, in this classroom, Dawn, what do you think happens when pupils disobey the rules?”

I didn’t move a muscle and watched silently as a vampire from the shadows slipped a crudely carved wooden stake into Garrek’s hand.

“You get punished,” Garrek continued as he paced back and forth in front of Daniel, slapping the stake against his palm. “But, first...” He paused in front of Daniel. “To be a fair teacher, I have to ask you to say you’re sorry for attempting to escape with Dawn and let you say what you have to say.”

Light in his eyes for the first time since entering the room, Daniel met my gaze. “Dawn, the part of me that’s human loved you and cherished the friendship. He knows he hurt you, and he’s sorry.”

My heart sank as the gravity of what Daniel said registered. My relationship with Daniel hadn’t been the same since he began dating Amalia, my fellow classmate and ex-friend, six months ago. Before I could decide if Daniel meant the words or if the demon inside him was just playing games, Garrek punched the damaged portion of his ribs. Daniel bent at the waist and groaned like a wounded animal.

“To the teacher...to me! Apologize to *me*, you imbecile!” Garrek shouted, black eyes sparking.

I could hardly make out Daniel’s next words. “*Never*. I would never apologize to you. I didn’t ask for this. *I* deserve some respect. I’m smarter than your whole lot here.” He nodded at the glowering minions.

Garrek rolled his eyes. “Well, look where it got you.”

Before Daniel could form a comeback, Garrek plunged the stake into his heart. Daniel crumbled into ashes before me. The sight of the vampire, who was once one of my best friends and my secret crush, dying overwhelmed my thoughts and feelings. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and as Garrek came for me, I fell into the abyss of unconsciousness.

* * *

Music found its way to my ears as my mind stirred to life. I tried to reach out a hand to hit the snooze button on the alarm next to my bed, but my arm wouldn’t move. For some reason, sunlight did not filter through my eyelids. Maybe the sky was cloudy. My eyes resisted opening and seemed crusted over. As I became more aware, pain throbbed through my arms, legs, and especially my neck.

Then, I remembered where I was. Leaning my head to my shoulder, I wiped away what I now knew was blood on my eye from when Garrek hit me earlier. When my vision focused, I noted the hundreds of long white candles glowing eerily in the fire-scarred room. The vampire minions remained cloaked in the shadows, but I could tell they were the ones singing. What had Garrek done? Had he turned a bunch of opera singers? More likely he had done a spell to make them sing so precisely and beautifully.

Garrek himself was seated in what appeared to be a very bizarre yoga position in the middle of a huge charcoal circle that had been drawn on the floor. Garrek wore a solid black robe that covered his entire body except for his hands and bare feet. Charcoal drawn symbols that matched the circle were drawn on his face. An ancient book lay open before him.

He glanced up when he detected my movements. His eyes were indistinguishable from the darkness around him. “Welcome.” The word sounded hollow in my mind, and I realized he hadn’t opened his mouth to speak.

Lifting his arms slowly above his head in defiance of the more rapid tempo of the music, he flung his head back and began chanting in an indeterminable tongue. The volume of the chanting pressed against the inside of my skull. As the chanting grew faster, a wind began blowing. I noted that the vampire singers staggered and braced themselves against the wall under the force of the gale, but the candle flames did not even flicker. My hair flew into my face, and my body strained against the chains that bound me. I didn’t scream but held my breath.

Abruptly, everything...the chanting, the singing, the wind...ceased. The candles snuffed out. I heard the vampire minions collapse to the ground. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I saw Garrek bowed low to the ground within the circle. Slowly, I let myself attempt to breathe.

When the situation seemed calm, I began to feel a strange sucking sensation deep in my abdomen. At first, I compared the feeling to cramps. The pressure built as the seconds passed until I thought that my intestines were going to burst out of my gut. Staring down at my stomach, I witnessed a effervescent neon green light flowed hesitatingly out of me. Somehow, I was resisting without even trying.

The tide of the gossamer luminance...my essence...the core of the mystical key inside me...appeared compelled to extend toward Garrek. When the glow reached Garrek’s prone form, I concentrated, willing that part of me to return. I managed to slow the advance, but the pull was too strong. When the magic entered Garrek, he rose to his feet effortlessly and stood with arms raised.

I was failing, and the more of me he ingested and drained from me, the weaker I became. I was so tired. My muscles went limp and my eyes shut. With a curiously calm clarity, I realized I was dying.

* * *

All at once, the force in my body completely relented. With a whoosh, everything I’d lost came rushing back into me. As my energy returned, I gasped aloud at the change.

Something slammed against the wall of the building, and a voice spoke.

“So, you wanna tell me what you were doing to my sister?”

Buffy! Buffy was here! I spotted the lanterns she and Willow carried, and saw that Buffy had Garrek pinned against the wall plaster. She held a stake to his heart.

Willow blocked the only exit to the room, gripping the handle of her ax and eyeing the minion vamps closely. Weakened by the intensity of the spell, the vampires were reluctant to challenge her...at least for the moment.

“Buffy! Willow!” I called.

“Hey, Dawnie!” Willow responded. “You okay?”

“Yea. Sort of.”

“Talk!” Buffy jammed the stake into Garrek’s chest so that blood flowed over her hand.

“What do you think I was doing?” His eyes still black, Garrek grinned at my sister.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to be smiling...much less, asking questions.”

“What does it look like?” he goaded, licking his lips.

Willow knew. “He was doing a spell.” While keeping her ax raised, she inched toward the still open book on the floor. “An ancient spell!...For extracting powerful energies from whatever...or whoever holds them.”

Holding Garrek firmly, Buffy took a chance and glanced back at me. “Dawnie, are you hurt anywhere?”

“Just my eye and the spots where the chains are.” I felt a bit safer, so I cast a simple spell to release myself. Landing lightly on my feet, I strode across the floor and picked up the forgotten stake that Garrek had used on Daniel. “I’m ready to fight.”

Noting Buffy’s distraction, Garrek wrested the stake from her hand and leapt toward his minions. Bad move. He was trapped in the room. Frantic, he acted hastily and grabbed Willow, flinging the ax away and holding the stake to her chest.

“One movement, girl, and your little friend is dead,” he growled.

“So, you wanna fight.” Buffy closed in on the vampire. I didn’t comprehend why he wasn’t using his magic on her. Buffy noticed, too. “What’s wrong, mojo boy? Too weak from your attempt to kill my sister to cast a spell?”

“How did you find me?” Garrek’s eyes were wild as he tried to buy himself some time.

“Willow used to be a witch. She sensed it a mile away. And we got a tip from a vamp you left behind in New Orleans. Kinda sloppy if you ask me.”

“You don’t know what you’re caught in the middle of, do you?”

Without warning, Buffy kicked the stake out of Garrek’s hand, shoved Willow away from the vampire, and followed up with a second kick to Garrek’s head. Willow used the momentum from Buffy’s push to fall into a roll, ending up right next to her ax. Whipping up, she and I launched ourselves at the recuperating minions who were ambling our direction.

I counted six vampires, three for Willow and three for me. The first vampire was clumsy and practically fell on my stake, bursting into a satisfying cloud of dust. Barely aware of Willow’s easy swings on my left, I dropped to the ground and slid between my next vampire’s legs when he attempted to knock me to the ground. I never fought so well but knew that the vamps were weaker than normal. With more battle experience and an ax, Willow made short work of her vampires and killed my third just as he reached for my neck.

Coughing in the flying dust, I said, “Thanks, Willow.”

She smiled. “No prob.” Studying me, she was confused. “Dawnie, are you hurt?”

“No, I’m mostly fine. Why do you keep asking me that?”

The lines that normally appeared on Willow’s forehead when she was concerned were readily visible. “Because your room at home was covered in blood when you went missing. Spike was gone, too, with his clothes and car.”

“Really?” Then, I recalled something. The detail hadn’t seemed important at the time but now made total sense. “Daniel...Daniel was at the blood drive. Y-you know the one at the school?” I explained excitedly, waving my hands at her.

Willow frowned.

“Y-you know the one Spike told me about...that the whole school went to because of the kid that needed a bone marrow transplant? Daniel was there. I saw him but didn’t talk to him at the blood drive.”

“Huh?”

“Daniel’s a new vampire. He probably came up with the plan to kidnap me for Garrek. Daniel really wanted to be respected by him. He told me. I bet he took the blood I donated and spread it all over the room to confuse you. Hey, what’d you say about Spike?”

“Guys!” Buffy shouted. “Help needed here!”

We spun around to see Buffy being overpowered by Garrek. As we ran to her aid, Garrek motioned his arm at us. An invisible force flung us to the ground and held us. Garrek was slowly regaining his magick power. Willow and I were helpless. Buffy was striving to gain a foothold when he lifted her up by the neck.

“Garrek!”

Garrek’s head snapped toward the doorway. My eyes followed his. Towering in the doorway, Angel, my sister’s vampire ex-boyfriend who now ran “Angel’s Investigations” in Los Angeles, was staring Garrek down.

“Put her down!”

To my amazement, Garrek obeyed, and Buffy collapsed, gasping.

Angel hurried to Buffy’s side, his dark leather coat flapping. He touched her arm gently. “Are you okay?”

She granted him a small smile. “Yea, just hurt in another fight is all. Made this one harder.”

Garrek tried to slip by Angel. Angel reached up and clasped his arm. “I don’t think so. This time you’ve gone too far.”

Garrek’s expression was appropriately terrified.

“Release them,” Angel commanded in reference to Willow and me.

With a flick of Garrek’s wrist, we were free. Less energetically now, I stood slowly, groaning at the pain in my ankle. Probably sprained the muscle when I fell.

Willow was baffled. “I don’t understand.”

Garrek was staring at Angel.

“He’s my childe,” Angel admitted.

Buffy moved next to me. “Oh, really?”

“Sadly, yes. But, he does have to do what I say,” Angel confirmed.

“Cool,” I said brightly. “Make him bark like a dog...or cluck like a chicken!”

The corner of Angel’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile. He turned to Garrek. “So, where’s Spike?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Angel punched him in the nose.

“Where?” Buffy demanded.

Garrek floundered.

“There’s more where that came from,” Angel warned, eyes flashing yellow.

“Up north.”

“Exactly where up north?” Angel asked, relaxing his hold a bit.

“Alaska.” Garrek took advantage of Angel’s looser grip and tore away, running toward the door.

Buffy snatched the stake out of my hand and threw the wood at Garrek’s retreating back. He burst into dust.

Angel watched the dust settle. “Buffy, there’s something I have to tell you.”

Crossing her arms, Buffy nodded. “You sure do.”

Bampf!

Startling everyone, Anya teleported into the middle of the room. “Am I too late to help out? Are all the bad guys dead? I just got done helping a couple of customers before I closed the Magic Shop.”

The end of chapter 6

**Note: The full story behind Daniel, Amalia, and Dawn can be found in one of my other stories, “The Admirer.” However, you don’t have to read the other story to understand this one. :o) Also, the sucking feeling that Dawn feels during the ritual is symbolic of the effect a sociopath can have on a person. A dorm building really did burn up during construction at a local university in Beaumont, Texas a few years ago, but they reconstructed the building.**

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