Chapter 10
Buffy reached to pull the stake out of her back pocket, gripping it tightly as she looked at the front door of the abandoned building. The sign hanging above the door read “CARNAGE”, the letters drawn in a style that made the red script look like dripping blood. A condemned notice hung on the boarded up door of the main entrance.
She scowled. “Always with the condemned buildings. Vamps never wanna hang at the local Starbucks.”
Glancing behind her, she noted Angel and Kate bringing up the rear. Buffy, Connor and Spike had jumped out of the backseat of Angel’s moving car as soon as they’d driven by the address of the club Christy had revealed. Nina had offered to stay behind and keep an eye on their prisoner. No wait, not prisoner. Hostage. Er, not that either. Guest. Christy was their guest. Buffy didn’t keep humans hostage. She just sometimes babysat them against their will.
“So. What’s the plan?” Spike broke the silence.
Buffy eyes narrowed. “We go in. Covert. Do a little recon. See how – ”
Angel raised his hand, interrupting. “Hold on. Something we need to work out first.” Buffy looked at Angel with eyebrows raised. “Everyone follow my lead. Don’t just go running off like you three – ” he looked pointedly at Buffy, Spike and Connor “– did just a minute ago. We need to work together on this and no offense, Buffy, but you don’t know all the players here.”
Spike and Buffy rolled their eyes simultaneously at Angel while Connor turned his head away to smirk.
Buffy gestured placatingly at Angel. “Okay. You’re in charge. What do we do, oh great leader?”
Angel nodded. “We go in covertly. Do some recon and see how many we’re dealing with.”
Buffy smiled wryly. “Great plan.”
Spike snickered, making Angel glare at him before continuing. “Spike and I go in. Get a read on what we’re dealing with.”
“Okay, you had me up to the point where I’m not going in,” Buffy interjected. “There could be Slayers in there. I have to – ”
“What? Endanger them?” Angel interrupted. “Tip off the vampires that another Slayer’s inside? They’re hardwired to sense you. You wanna help those girls? You’ll wait out here for us till we know the score. This is a vampire cult we’re dealing with. Don’t you think the two vampires have a better chance of blending in?”
“Hate to admit it, but he’s got a point,” Spike added reluctantly.
Buffy raised her hands defensively. “Okay, we’ll do this your way.”
For now, she added silently.
Angel and Spike glanced at each other briefly before walking around the corner of the club to look for another way in. Buffy sighed and turned to stare at Kate and Connor, twirling her stake between her fingers agitatedly.
“Cool trick,” Connor complimented as he watched the stake spinning in her grasp.
Buffy shrugged. “You do this as long as I have, you pick up a thing or two.”
Connor grinned. “I caught an axe being thrown right at me this one time.” He raised his hands to imitate grabbing the axe out of the air. “It was pretty cool.”
Buffy nodded with lips pursed, impressed.
“I once arrested a guy for urinating on a poodle. Aren’t battle stories fun?” Kate added sarcastically, arms crossed over her chest.
Buffy and Connor looked at each other, eyes wide with a trying-not-to-laugh expression on their faces like two kids caught passing notes during class by the teacher.
Kate shrugged. “I once shot a perp at over 100 yards away. The force tried to send me in for sharpshooter training, but I wanted to be a detective.” She scoffed. “And look how well that turned out.”
“You still make a difference. You know that. It’s not the same, but…” Connor’s voice trailed off uncertainly.
Kate nodded, smiling slightly. “Yeah, I know. Taking it one day at a time, kid.”
Buffy exhaled loudly. “God, what is taking so long?” She crossed her arms and started drumming her fingers on her biceps before dropping her hands to her sides. “Screw this, I’m going in.”
She strode towards the corner only to stop short as Spike and Angel appeared. She smiled awkwardly. “Oh hey, I wasn’t…” She looked at Angel and Spike, wide-eyed. “So what’d you find out?”
Spike looked at her suspiciously before answering. “Right. Place is packed. Looks dead on the outside and even deader inside. The undead variety, that is. Counted at least fifty vamps, maybe more.”
“More than fifty. I counted sixty-seven on my first sweep,” Angel added grimly. “And that’s not including the dozens of humans.”
Buffy’s face fell at the news and she looked down at her stake in disappointment. “Stupid airline regulations not letting me bring my Scythe,” she grumbled.
“You mean that axe thingy you had back in Sunnydale?” Angel asked.
“It’s called a Scythe,” Buffy corrected knowingly.
Angel shook his head. “It’s an axe. Scythes have more a – ”
“S’not the point,” Spike said quickly. “We’re seriously outnumbered here and lacking a bluish Old One to even up the odds.”
“Huh?” Buffy looked confusedly at Spike.
Spike shook his head. “Also not the point.” He raised one finger to count off, “Outnumbered. Any ideas? C’mon people. Anyone?”
“We have to get them separated. We can’t go in and hurt innocent people.” Buffy hesitated. “Okay, not so innocent. More like misguided. But still, we go in full force and people get hurt. Maybe killed. And I don’t have a super-powerful witch here to heal them all.”
“Huh?” Kate and Connor added.
Angel spoke over them. “And if we go in with anything less than full force, we’re all dead.”
“Some of us already are. Wouldn’t change much,” Spike snarked.
Buffy shook her head, eyes wide. “I don’t see how we even the odds. Maybe we wait til daytime and – ”
“So I get to be flambé’d to a dusty finish for the fight?” Spike shook his head as Angel nodded in agreement. “Keep thinkin’, love. ‘Cause I’m voting that
not be Plan A.”
Buffy turned to scowl at Spike. “Well maybe if you’d offer some ideas here, we’d actually get somewhere. Maybe you – ”
“Should’ve called for back-up?” A deep voice broke them apart. Buffy whipped around to look in surprise at the tall black man grinning at them.
“Gunn,” Angel greeted him with a relieved smile. “How’d you know?”
“Got a call,” Gunn answered, looking at Kate who smiled in return. “Heard you might need some more fighters.” He nodded over his shoulder at the group of young men and women behind him. “Went back to the basics – old school crew. It’s right up their alley, though. Armed and ready to bring on the dust.”
Gunn nodded at everyone, pausing to look awkwardly at Connor before nodding a greeting. Connor nodded back, shrugging his shoulder slightly in response to Gunn’s questioning look.
“Came to the right place then, Charlie boy,” Spike grinned. “Got so many vamps cramped inside it’s practically a fire hazard.”
Angel looked thoughtful for a moment before turning to gaze at Gunn’s rigged up truck. “What are you packing? The usual?”
“All my favorites. Why?” Gunn asked only for his eyes to widen a second later. “Ooooh. Yeah, I got it. We looking to light up this joint?”
“Looks like. Get ready to use it,” Angel ordered. He turned to look at the door of the club. “We still need to separate them somehow…”
“I know how,” Buffy said quietly. She looked up at Angel and Spike, eyes hard. “Get everyone ready out here.” She turned to stare grimly at the boarded up door. “I’m gonna make them come running right to you.”
As she started to walk forward, Spike grabbed her by the shoulder and whipped her around to face him. “What? You think you’re going in alone? Scratch that plan, too. I’m not letting you go all kamikaze here.” He grabbed her by both shoulders, shaking her as he spoke. “Not gonna happen, you hear me?”
Everyone watched silently, their eyes going back and forth between Buffy and Spike.
“Spike,” she said quietly, reaching up to gently lift his hands off her shoulders. “Trust me. And be waiting out here for me.” Spike shook his head firmly, prompting Buffy to continue in earnest. “I’ve done this before. Well, not exactly. Kinda backwards actually. But I can do this.” She looked over her shoulder at the door and then turned back to Spike. “They want Slayers. So I’m the bait.”
She lowered her voice to a whisper, looking at him intensely. “I
have to do this.”
She stepped away from Spike and looked at the others briefly. She gazed at Angel for a moment before glancing at Connor, Kate and Gunn. “Be ready.” She turned back to look at Spike. “Be right back, promise,” she reassured, smiling slightly.
She straightened her shoulders and slid her stake into her back pocket, walking proudly around the corner and out of sight. The alley on the side of the club was dirtier than she was used to and she stepped over broken bottles and trash before pausing to look up at a large, open window two stories above her. Okay, that’s how Angel and Spike snuck in. Too bad she didn’t have those nifty vampire jump-like-she’s-flying skills.
Looking further down the alley, she noticed a smaller vent window above a dumpster against the brick wall. Walking toward it, she tilted her head and hopped up onto the dumpster. Looking inside, she noticed an empty restroom with several vanity mirrors and the walls spray-painted black and covered in red graffiti. She lifted the window open and turned her head, gritting her teeth as she squeezed through the opening. After squeezing her head through, she slide easily down face first along the wall into a tuck and roll onto the floor.
Standing up, she brushed off her shirt and pants, looking back at the small window then down at her body. Measuring her hips with her hands and then raising them up to the window, she pursed her lips.
Okay, was there a size tinier than petite? she wondered. Shrugging, she turned to look at herself in the mirror just as two girls opened the bathroom door. Buffy froze. The girls stumbled forward, giggling drunkenly as they primped in front of the mirror, adjusting the cleavage showing in their tight halter tops.
The girl to Buffy’s right turned to look scornfully at Buffy’s jeans and conservative top. She leaned over, head tilted sympathetically. “You’re new, huh? Try something red or black next time. The vamps just love it. Especially red. It makes them get all
hot.” She patted her neck, drawing Buffy’s attention to a bite mark.
Buffy smiled nervously. “Right, red. Gotcha.” Buffy raised her right hand to do a mini-cheer gesture. “Go vampires! They’re just the coolest.”
Both girls laughed, looking at Buffy oddly before stumbling out of the bathroom. The loud beat of music reverberated off the bathroom walls before the door swung shut. Buffy patted the stake in the back pocket of her jeans reassuringly before opening the bathroom door and looking out into the empty hallway.
She followed the beat of the music down the darkened hallway, glancing at the graffiti on the walls, reading random words and phrases like “Vampirez Rule” and “Blood is the life”. Her left eye started to twitch, her jaw clenching involuntarily. She stopped reading.
Reaching the dance floor, she blinked at the strobe lights crisscrossing over the crowd undulating to the heavy metal techno beat. She stumbled slightly as she walked forward, the lower reaches of her back burning. She’d never had an acute sense for when vampires were nearby, but when this many were surrounding her even she couldn’t remain oblivious. Her fists clenched involuntarily and she had to stop herself from reaching for her stake.
By appearance alone it looked like any other club scene. The men and women were drunkenly gyrating on each other, occasionally stopping to kiss and cop a feel. Except this crowd had added their own specialty to the clubbing menu. Every minute or so Buffy would spy a vampire in game face leaning in to bite their partner’s neck, drinking briefly before pulling away to resume dancing, leaving their ‘victims’ moaning in bliss. Buffy closed her eyes in disgust as her stomach turned.
She felt physically sick, overwhelmed and dizzy. A couple bumped into her, forcing her eyes open. She panted and shook her head, attempting to clear the fog. The music began to quietly wind down and she noticed a tall man dressed in a black showman’s jacket and heavy eyeliner stand up on the empty stage used for live band performances. He raised his right hand and the crowd quieted, turning to watch him. A microphone lowered from the ceiling and landed perfectly in his grasp. The man grinned, flashing a smile full of brilliant white teeth against his pale skin.
He was handsome. Buffy hated that she thought he was handsome. He had that pretty boy hair that was fluffed back into place with loads of gel, but still managed to look windblown. Not that the hair was why she hated him. Well, that was part of it. It was the look in his eyes as he gazed out on the crowd. He got off on this. The humans crawling in, desperate to be food and playthings. Willing meat for the beast.
The man pulled the microphone to his lips and rumbled seductively, verging on purring. “It’s about that time. I know you’ve all been waiting for it. Time for the blood. The blood…” He grinned, rubbing his chest suggestively as he leaned towards the crowd. “…of the Slayer!”
Buffy grimaced as the crowd began to scream and whistle catcalls. He sounded like Ryan Seacrest. A less ambiguously bisexual, vampiric Ryan Seacrest. He raised both hands, pointing towards the ceiling like he was taking a victory lap and the crowd pushed closer and closer towards the stage, leaving Buffy to stand alone on the far edges of the dance floor.
She looked behind her and noted the main hallway that led to the front of the building. She imagined Spike waiting for her on the other side of that boarded-up door. It’d be so easy to slowly back away from the crowd and join them there. A united front.
She looked around at the crowd, at the excited faces waiting for a Slayer – no, just a girl – to be brought on stage and drained. These people had chosen to be here. They’d chosen to be victims to soulless monsters. They’d chosen to watch a girl die. For fun. They wanted this. They got off on it just as much as the vampires did.
Watching them now as they begged to be bitten, as they fawned over the misshapen creatures that fed from them, she felt like she wasn’t surrounded by humanity anymore. She watched them offering their necks and then kissing the blood-covered mouths of the monsters that fed from them. Her stomach turned violently.
She was supposed to save this? This rabble? She backed away, stumbling until she hit a pillar behind her. She could hear the crowd chanting the name “Draco Draco Draco” and assumed that was the announcer on the stage. She closed her eyes, sliding down against the pillar till she hit the floor, bending to rest her forehead on her knees.
She was supposed to save them and all she wanted to do was scream at them that they were cruel idiots. These weren’t victims. They weren’t helpless, salt-of-the-earth people being attacked in a darkened alley. These people were screaming for a girl’s blood to be spilled.
She was the Slayer. She didn’t judge humanity, she saved it without question. But every time before, she’d always believed humanity was worth saving. Here, now, she couldn’t. She felt revolted. She squeezed her eyes shut. Bereft.
There was no humanity inside this club of death.
******
Chapter 11
A gentle hand touched her shoulder and she looked up to find a girl with long brown hair and clear blue eyes looking at her with concern. Buffy blinked dazedly.
“Are you okay?” the girl asked. Buffy shook her head in response.
The girl pointed at Buffy to stay put and walked towards the bar, slipping behind it only to return a second later carrying a clear plastic cup. “Here – drink this,” she said, handing the cup to Buffy.
Buffy looked at the clear liquid skeptically. The girl smiled. “It’s only water. You looked like you were going to be sick.” The girl rubbed Buffy’s shoulder comfortingly. “You gotta stay hydrated when you go out to places like this.” She frowned when Buffy continued to hesitate. “Did somebody slip you something earlier? Is that why you’re not feeling okay?”
A chorus of shrieks made the girl turn towards the stage for a moment, only to look immediately back at Buffy, frowning. “Maybe you should go home. You don’t seem like you belong here, ya know?” The girl smiled reassuringly, rubbing Buffy’s shoulder and lifting the cup up to Buffy’s mouth. “Drink – it’ll make you feel better. Help settle your stomach.”
Buffy swallowed a few sips of water hesitantly then gulped down the rest. She sighed as she leaned her head up against the pillar behind her.
The girl smiled. “Feeling better?” She stood up and held out a hand to help Buffy stand, gripping firmly and pulling her upright. “You should go home. You don’t want to see what happens here.” The girl looked solemn for a moment before turning to walk back behind the bar, prompting Buffy to reach out to touch her shoulder.
Buffy swallowed tightly, shaking off her lightheadedness. “Thank you,” she uttered hoarsely.
“No problem.” The girl smiled before walking back towards the bar at the far wall.
Buffy watched the girl walk away, a vulnerable expression on her face. She turned towards the stage and straightened her shoulders, lifting her chin and walking determinedly back towards the edge of the shrieking crowd. Announcer guy was still drawing out the moment, talking about blood and rewards. Figures. Ryan Seacrest always did know how to bleed a moment dry for all it was worth before getting to the main event. She half expected him to say they’d be right back after this commercial by Ford.
“You know the drill, how we play the game. Only one gets to drink. Oh yeah, drink deep from this sacred chalice. It’s not a
right.” Draco’s voice rumbled menacingly, lingering on each vowel sound and drawing it out like a Baptist preacher gone metal-punk. “Oh no, it’s a
privilege. You’ve gotta earn it, kids. So who earned it tonight? Who’s the one –” a drumroll began to sound as Draco pointed his right index finger into the air “– who gets a taste of the finest blood this side of hell. Who’ll taste the blood…” Draco paused dramatically before swinging his arm down to point to his right offstage. “…of a
Slayer! ”
A teenage girl dressed in ragged clothes with long, knotted black hair was dragged on to the stage. She stumbled as the vampires pulled her forward, tripping over the heavy chains on her ankles as they grabbed her from under her chained arms. She closed her eyes against the blinding spotlight shining down on her, panting. Her head hung limply, swaying from side to side as they propped her up next to Draco.
A dozen vampires began to flank the stage in a perfectly coordinated oval like attendants at a wedding ceremony, six to Draco’s left and six to the chained Slayer’s right. Draco grinned and grabbed the Slayer by her left elbow, pulling her up against his side as he raised the microphone to his lips. “Who will it be? Who’ll get to taste – ” He chuckled evilly and leaned over to lick the Slayer’s bruised cheek. “– this prime, oh so fine morsel?” He rumbled a growl into the microphone and the crowd swayed in anticipation.
Buffy glared. She looked desperately behind her at the hallway leading to the front door and then back at the crowd of humans draped over vampires in gameface and finally at the dozen vampires on stage surrounding Draco and the Slayer. She had to end this. She dismissed the stake in her back pocket. It wasn’t going to be enough for this type of crowd control. She frantically searched around the room and glanced over at the girl standing alone behind the bar. Yes. There.
She strode quickly forward and leaped over the bar, grabbing bottles of liquor and lining them up on the counter.
“Hey!” the girl exclaimed, reaching to grab Buffy’s arm. “You can’t just…” Her voice trailed off as Buffy turned to glare at her.
Buffy continued to line up full bottles of vodka, gin and whiskey on the bartop. Without pausing, she spoke in a dark tone, “Get out of here. Get out
now. You hear me? You
don’t want to be here for this.”
The girl shook her head and backed away, running to the back area of the club reserved for employees. Buffy didn’t turn to watch, instead picking up a lighter and slipping it into her pocket before jumping onto the bar to face the stage twenty feet away. She took a deep breath and picked up a bottle from the dozens sitting at her feet, listening to Draco’s obnoxious growl as he waited to announce the winner.
Winner, she sneered.
Win this, suckheads. “…and the winner is…” Draco paused again to grin. “…the vicious, the insatiable, the unstoppable – argh!” Draco yelped as a bottle of vodka cracked him upside the head, shattering and splashing alcohol on the vampires standing next to him.
The Slayer standing next to him whimpered as the glass flew past her head to the floor, desperately pushing herself out of Draco’s grasp to land sprawled at the back of the stage. The vampires on stage turned to see where the bottle came from but failed to react before more bottles were hurled with perfect precision at each vampire from Buffy’s stance on the bar. The crowd watched in shock, unmoved by the spectacle of violence, conditioned to wait and observe.
Buffy stopped when she had only one bottle left, opening it to stuff a rag inside the bottle with the tail end hanging out. Glaring at the crowd, she reached behind her to pull out her stake, using the sharp edge to rip open her palm before holding it up towards the crowd. “You want blood. You’re so thirsty for it,” Buffy yelled furiously. “Come get mine. You want Slayer’s blood – come and get it right from the source.
The Slayer.”
Draco growled as his eyes lit in recognition, the ridges on his forehead rippling as his face twisted into snarl. “Buffy Summers…I’m gonna kill you.”
“You first,” Buffy snapped, reaching down to grab the last bottle while she grabbed the lighter out of her pocket. Lighting the damp rag, she hurled it at Draco, her eyes glinting in satisfaction as it hit him in the chest, the flames from the rag spreading immediately across his entire body. Draco screamed, his body lighting up before combusting into a pile of dust. The dozen vampires on either side of him jumped back to avoid the fire.
The vampires on stage stared in shock at the pile of Draco’s dust, then snarled at Buffy but made no move to act uncertain without their charismatic leader issuing orders.
“Come on! You just gonna take that,” Buffy sneered, goading them to attack her. The vampires in the crowd looked at each other in confusion, hesitating. “You’re pathetic. Has it really gotten this easy for you? You forgot how to hunt? How to feed without it being handed to you?”
She slashed the stake into her palm again, grimacing as she whipped her hand in the direction of the crowd and let the blood splatter freely. The vampires growled as drops hit their faces, the powerful scent of Slayer’s blood stroking their hunger, while the humans shrieked in disgust and began to back away towards the stage. Buffy smiled grimly. So much for humans loving blood. Posers.
A bulky male vampire on the stage grabbed the fallen microphone resting on top of Draco’s ashes, picking it up to growl ,“Kill her,” before jumping down into the middle of the crowd and pushing his way towards the bar.
The vampires began to move forward en masse, leaving the humans behind in the wake of their blood lust. Buffy backed away down the bar in the direction of the entrance hallway, watching the vampires prowl forward, growling loudly through their fangs.
Buffy paused as she reached the end of the bar, flinching as something pinched her in the neck. She reached up and pulled out a dart, glancing across the room at a man in standard Goth gear holding a tranquilizer gun. She staggered slightly as the drugs entered her bloodstream, making her fight to keep her balance.
Oh god, she thought dizzily.
Time to move. Shaking her head desperately, Buffy leapt off the bar and started running towards the entrance hallway, gasping as darts pierced her in the back. She brushed an arm behind her, attempting to pull out the darts within reach and felt the brush of cold hands wrenching the back of her shirt.
Faster, faster, faster, she chanted.
Her heart raced as she forced her legs to fly across the floor, straining forward with each desperate stride. Cold hands grabbed at her shirt, her arms, her pants, ripping off pieces of fabric as she refused to let them slow her momentum. As she reached the darkened hallway, she staggered against the wall, bouncing off it as her knees shook from the drugs pumping through her system. The hallway floor tilted in front of her like a shifting tunnel at a carnival but she kept running, forcing one foot in front of the other.
So close, so close, keep running, almost…She pushed forward with the last ounce of her Slayer strength as she barreled into the closed door, smashing through it to land on her knees. A burly vampire tackled her from behind, rolling her to the side and lifting her up by the neck as he slid his fangs into her shoulder. She gasped in pain only to scream as the vampire was wrenched away violently and leather clad arms picked her up roughly to carry her away from the doorway.
“Now! She’s clear!” Spike yelled, pushing her against the brick wall to the far left of the alleyway.
Buffy watched dazedly, her vision going in and out of focus, as Gunn lit up a flamethrower and doused the vampires that came running out of the club’s entrance.
“Oh, hell yeah!” Gunn grinned viciously as he brandished the flamethrower from side to side against the hordes of vamps that were bottlenecked between the narrow entrance door and the wall of fire that quickly turned into disintegrating bodies of dust. He stepped forward through the falling ashes and pressed down hard on the fuel, letting out great bursts of flames to reach the vamps that were attempting to retreat back inside the club.
The flamethrower began to wane in its intensity and eventually puttered out. Gunn watched the dozen or so remaining vampires running back inside the club as he lowered the torch.
Angel and Connor came up to stand beside him. “Time for us to do the clean-up,” Angel said grimly, looking briefly over at Buffy being held in Spike’s arms.
Connor grinned, pulling out a stake and twirling it roughly. “Let’s finish this.”
Gunn set down the torch and jerked his head at his crew. “Move out! If it’s undead, stake it.” He glanced awkwardly at Angel. “Er, except Angel. Let’s go!”
Buffy watched over Spike’s shoulder, her entire body going numb as she succumbed to the drugs in her bloodstream. Spike held her cradled in his arms, half-kneeling as he leaned against the wall with her sitting on his bent legs. He applied pressure to her shoulder, alternating between growls as he pulled darts from her back and a comforting rumble when she shivered.
“Spike?” Buffy’s voice was weak. “Did it work?”
“Yeah, love,” Spike reassured her, voice tight. “It worked.”
She leaned forward to rest her forehead against his shoulder, sighing. “I feel dizzy.”
“S’okay, I’ve got you.” Spike’s voice cracked in mid-sentence.
Suddenly remembering, Buffy struggled to lift her head up. “The…the Slayer inside…she’s…”
“Angel’s taking care of it. Don’t worry. Shhh,” Spike crooned.
Buffy struggled to stand, trying to move her legs with no success. She clutched at Spike’s shoulders weakly, her hands starting to go numb. “I have to…have to make sure…”
“Hush now,” Spike said gently.
She allowed her head to fall back against his shoulder, looking up into his worried face. She smiled woozily, the drugs beginning to affect her mood as the rush of adrenaline left her body. “You…you take care of me,” she smiled loopily, her voice high and weak.
His mouth crooked momentarily before he flattened it into a severe frown. “I do. When you let me, pet.”
She closed her eyes, snuggling into the side of his neck. “This is nice.”
Spike scoffed, hugging her tightly to him. “Is it now?” he asked incredulously, unable to keep a faint smile off his face. “You plannin’ on passing out anytime soon, Slayer?”
“Uh huh…”
******
Chapter 12
