Chapter 4.12
Sunday, May 19th, 2002
Buffy replaced the phone in its cradle and turned to Tara
and Bee. "Sounds like Clem is getting stuck with the clean up from
last night. Lily is going to take me. I have to meet her at her place."
"I'll drop you off," Bee volunteered before Buffy
had a chance to consider how to get there.
Buffy continued with barely a glance to acknowledge Bee's
offer of help. "After that, I'm not sure how far it is. How
long have we got to find him before he's due at this Maple place?"
Tara lifted her bare wrist and looked uncomfortable. "I
don't know exactly. We wasted a chunk of time when we thought he was sealed
in, and I think Dawn was with him for a while after the call before... well.
Then, with all the phone calls... Not long."
"We better—" Buffy looked up as Wes pushed through
the front door.
"He's gone. Paid his bill this morning and left. Either
he spotted Willow following him last night or he just wasn't taking any
chances on being tracked down once he showed his hand. We managed to bribe
the manager into letting us check through his room before the cleaning crew
went in, but other than a taste for expensive aftershave there's not much
we could tell you. They couldn't even come up with a better description
of his car than silver."
"Where's Giles?"
"Em... there were some books lying on the path as
we were coming in...."
Bee looked over at Buffy. "Time we were both at my
place, anyway. I'll pick the books up later and skip the lecture."
She strode toward the front door and Buffy was swift to
follow, but just as they reached it Giles appeared in the doorway, Bee's
books cradled protectively in his hands and Bee had to brush past him to
get out of the house, her breasts rubbing against his arm as she turned
sideways. Giles, however, was not to be stopped.
"Buffy, why on earth were these books lying in the
middle of your yard? Some of the pages have been creased and there are even
grass stains on two of them."
Before Buffy could say anything Bee yanked her after her,
calling back towards the house as she stomped to her car and started it
up. "Ever so sorry that someone screaming seemed more important than
a pile of leather and paper. Tell you what, since you prefer them to actual
beings with feelings and emotions why don't you go ahead and help Tara with
her research while we find Spike? And if the nice Rupert gets back
before I do, assure him that I will leave him in your dubious care no longer
than is necessary. Better still, leave him with Tara and, you, stay as far
away from him as possible."
The classic car roared into life, and Bee pulled out with
more speed than finesse, her driving reminiscent of Grace Kelly's in the
film 'To Catch a Thief', which had been responsible for a great deal of
that particular model's cult appeal.
Giles looked on, stunned into silence once more until Tara
tugged on his sleeve. "Come on, Giles. There's not much else we can
do at the moment. We might as well do as she says."
Giles sighed. "An excellent idea in theory, but in
practice, I must admit that I don't even recognise the languages that most
of these books are written in and those I do recognise I'm not exactly fluent
in."
"Oh!" One word conveyed the Wiccan's disappointment.
"Maybe you can look over the notes I made from the council database,
then and see—"
The phone rang, yet again, and Wes who was nearest to it
was the one to answer. "Summers residence. Wes speaking. How may I
help?"
"Wesley Wyndam Pryce? No, I don't think you can help
me. You've betrayed the Council's mission just as much as the necrophiliac
slut you choose to associate with."
"I may no longer be either naive enough or
paid enough to follow blindly Quentin Travers' political agenda, but I assure
you that neither Buffy nor I are the ones who have lost our moral direction."
"Lies." Robin listened to the First as it stood
at his shoulder, wearing his mother's face. "He associates with demons.
He calls them friend and does their bidding. He's abandoned the mission
I died trying to protect."
"You're lying. My mother lived and died according
to her mission in life. You betray everything that she and the Council stand
for. First you beg the Council to spare Angelus' life, then you become his
lackey and when he had enough of you, you come to whore yourself out to
his grandchilde and that degenerate bitch of his. Watchers are supposed
to aid slayers when they hunt vampires, not hump them. Or maybe she thinks
if she rakes enough scratches in his back she'll claw out his heart or if
she rides him fast enough and hard enough he'll burn up in her filthy cu—"
"Enough!" Wes spoke loudly but with
a chilly authority. "I don't care who you are, or what happened in
the past to turn you into the obviously bitter and depraved individual you
would seem to be today. I don't even care that Spike is responsible for
your mother's death. I won't listen to any more of your twisted ramblings.
Buffy lives by her mission, just as your mother did. She isn't hung up on
the letter of that old piece of propaganda that watchers have been ramming
down the throats of their charges for centuries. She doesn't kill for the
sake of killing... but where demons threaten the community, she is there
and she does not stint in her duty. The fact that she has brought Spike
onside is a far greater victory for the forces of light than if she had
merely dusted him. It is you, in your hunger for a pointless revenge, who
would rob us of a warrior both fearsome in his own right and invaluable
as the slayer's ally. You distract her from her calling by threatening her
mate. You allow evil breathing space. You would break both her heart and
her will to continue the fight, even though she's the only slayer since
to rival your mother's longevity and success. Or is that the real reason
for your actions?"
"She doesn't even deserve the title slayer,"
Robin argued spurred on by the figure at his side. "...But my fight
is not with her, unless she chooses to make it so, and, if she does, then
she sentences herself. I will have revenge for my mother, one way or another,
though since your slayer of slayers has now failed to make it to his rendezvous,
I may have to settle for simply causing his painful and lingering death
rather than seeing it. If he lasts that long, have him make another try
tomorrow, same time, same place. In the meantime, why don't you check out
w w w dot painful dash vampire dash death dot org? Since your undead friend
or is that master? ...didn't make it in time to see his little playmate
in person, you'll just have to make do."
Wood terminated the call from the cloned cell phone and
switched it off. He flicked through the cameras he had positioned around
the network of sewers and other tunnels that made up Sunnydale's underground.
Most of them had the green tint of low-light footage, but one was in normal
colour. It showed a female vampire lying on the bed in a basic but homey
looking room. Half the room looked like your average studio apartment except
for the absence of windows. The other half, which looked as if it could
be separated off by a rich burgundy floor to ceiling curtain, held a variety
of paraphernalia and magazines that made it obvious what trade the vampiress
plied when she wasn't bleeding out from her ears, eyes and mouth and running
a temperature so high that the chill air of the underground room seemed
to steam around her. Her body was one massive reddish bruise and her face
was contorted in a rictus of pain that made it hard to believe that she'd
once been a beauty queen, despite the pictorial evidence on the walls. Robin
gave a satisfied smile and then flicked through the other feeds until he
came to the one that showed his adversary slumped on the tunnel floor.
"You can't really wait until tomorrow," his mother
told him. "It needs to be done today."
"I know that. The construction crew would make life
slightly inconvenient but I don't see any harm in letting his whore and
the turncoats stew for a while."
"That's my boy. Now, switch back to the other channel.
We don't want to miss the best bit. You know once the bleeding starts there
isn't long to go."
"May I?" Wes gestured to where Tara sat in front
of Spike's computer.
"Sure." She stepped aside to make room for the
former watcher. "What did he say?"
"Nothing worthy of being repeated, other than the
fact that he claims that Spike failed to make the appointed rendezvous.
He also seems to think that that will force us into waiting for another
game of cat and mouse tomorrow but I'm afraid I don't believe he has any
intention whatsoever of telling Spike what the cure is. He also provided
a... somewhat... macabre... web... address." As he finished speaking
Wes hit the return key, bringing up the site's main page. He clicked the
mouse over the link saying enter and found himself looking at the same video
feed that Robin Wood and the First Evil were currently watching.
"What is this?" Tara looked over his shoulder.
"If the clock on the wall is anything to go by, I
would say that it's a live video feed. I think it's where Spike was supposed
to go, a demonstration of what he's likely to face if he doesn't play along."
"But how? I mean did he ambush some vampire and force
feed her the poison instead of just staking her just so he could make his
little film or are there vampires dying all round town because they chose
to buy animal blood rather than attack humans?"
"I don't know if we'll ever know, but I think perhaps
we should let Buffy know the current state of play."
"I can call her on my cell," Tara offered.
"Wouldn't it be cheaper to use the land-line?"
Wes asked.
"Free minutes," the witch pointed out, turning
to the elder watcher. "...But Giles is going
to need the land-line in any case to call... Everard
Howarth." She read the name from the sheet of
paper she took from her pocket. "He says you
were right. That the Council is looking into
appropriate action and that he was anxious
for you to get in touch so that he could find out
how you knew. He also said that you would know where
to get in touch with him and that Wes's father apparently
hasn't broadcast the fact that he's in Sunnydale."
Wes's attention seemed to focus on an imaginary speck of
dirt on his jeans as he made his shame-faced reply. "That would be
at least partly because he was unaware that I had relocated from
LA."
"Oops. Sorry, Wes. But what does all this mean, Giles?"
"The Council has confirmed what Buffy and Spike saw
in their vision the other night. The First Evil has begun what would appear
to be a war on the slayer line."
"So if that's the plan, why's it taking time out to
play with Spike's head?" Tara asked. "You would think it would
be kinda busy."
Giles removed his glasses and rubbed at them with the bottom
of his shirt. "That is another piece of the puzzle that I suggest we
work on after we discover a cure."
"Back there, you said after we find Spike."
"Well, it's not like I'm in a great rush to share
table space with that watcher friend of yours and I'm not totally incapable
when it comes to looking after myself. I'm stronger than I look and if,
as I suspect Rupie has followed him, then..." she leaned over and pulled
open the glove compartment, pulling out what looked like a PDA. "...This
might prove useful."
"I don't think we're going to find Robin Wood in your
contacts list." Buffy tried again. "Look, I'm the last person
to judge anyone for being short and female, but I'm already taking Lily,
who isn't really a combatant, and those shoes aren't really what you need
for a good old fashioned sewer hunt. Trust me. I know this.
I also know that by all accounts there's stuff that you
could read as easily as your morning newspaper that grown watchers would
struggle with. I can find Spike without your help, but the answer as to
what to do with him after that could be in your books and no one is more
familiar with them than you. Of course, if your palmtop has a map of the
sewers..."
"No such luck. Rupie isn't normally that keen on getting
dirty. Just standard GPS, same as you can get in a newer car except it shows
you how to get to Rupert instead of some destination you type in."
"Huh? I never heard of anything like that."
"Well, dad helped out with miniaturising the bits
that go on his collar. Not all that diamante is actually diamante."
"So, it would show us what's above us and where the
cat is. Or where his collar is. No offence, but I've never known a cat to
be much for following a relative stranger." Buffy took the device from
Bee and replaced it in the glove box.
"Rupert isn't a typical cat."
"Which makes it all the more likely that he'll find
his way home on his own."
"At least take the tracker with you. It's not like
it can do any harm."
Buffy screwed up her face and left the unit where it was.
"It's too Initiative-y. Look, if you don't hear from us in the next
hour you can give it to Wes and he can come look for everyone, but for now,
please, just see what you can find in your books."
Bee gave a grim-faced nod, obviously not relishing the
prospect. Nevertheless, it wasn't as if Lily wouldn't be able to pick up
the vampire's scent as soon as they crossed paths or as if Buffy didn't
have her own unique bond with him. When the car stopped in front of Lily's
apartment, Buffy climbed out and then bent over to say thank you one more
time. "I know you want to do the wade in and help thing, but brains
are going to help more than brawn - and don't tell Giles I said that. I
know sitting reading can be the boring end of the job and I tend to let
others get on with it whenever I can get away with it, but you have skills
in that department that I'm never going to have—"
"It's okay. I get it, Buffy. Lily's waiting for you.
Go find him."
Bee knocked gently a couple of times before letting herself
back into the house on Revello. When she saw Giles pacing the living room,
phone in hand, she abruptly turned toward the dining room.
She could hear Tara discussing her research of this morning
with Wesley. "These symptoms suggest that one, but there's no mention
of the vomiting and the progression of the other symptoms seems to be slower
than the database would suggest... but the database talks about the bruising
spreading out from the poisoned wound, so I'm wondering if perhaps the vomiting
and the slower progression are because it's been ingested rather than going
straight into the blood stream or maybe... see, this one causes
vomiting, but not the bruising or the fever so maybe it's a combination
of both or maybe it's something that isn't even in the database."
The witch's voice seemed distant, however, the words not
making any sort of unified sense as Bee's attention was riveted to the computer
screen. "Stella?" She turned to Wesley. "What is that? Why
are you watching it?"
"You know her?" Wes asked.
"Yes, now I asked you what the hell this is."
Bee's eyes betrayed her fear, darting back and forth between Wes and the
computer screen and when Giles moved towards her she began to sidle away
from the door, getting a solid wall at her back so that she wouldn't find
herself trapped between the two watchers.
"Bee, I know this looks suspicious, but it's not our
doing." Wes kept his voice as level and calm as possible. "Do
you really think we could have fooled Lily last night if we were planning
something like this?"
"There are drugs. I'm not stupid or I suppose I am
for thinking that watchers could ever change."
"Bee, if you know her, maybe you know where she is.
Maybe if we get to her we can help her. You have to believe that we didn't
do this. Bee?"
Bee stared at the screen in horror as first one then two
small licks of flame appeared on Stella's body and in seconds the bed was
an inferno, clouds of dark smoke obscuring the camera's view. A few seconds
later the feed changed. The room was as it had always been. The clock on
the wall had jumped back ten minutes and Stella was lying there once more,
her bedroom intact.
"Bee, I—"
The small woman was startled by Giles voice next to her.
She grabbed the nearest thing to hand, a small framed print from the wall
at her back, and smashed him over the head with it before darting toward
the front door. |
