Bulgaria

Xander yawned as he turned his Playstation off. Faith had thankfully gone out with Tara and Kennedy, giving him not only a rest from the latest round of the Bedroom Olympics, but time to play a few video games and kick back for a while. "Hey Bro."   Xander whipped around to face the source of the noise, jaw dropping open at the person stood before him.  "What no hug for your best bud?"  Jesse asked as he strutted into the room’s centre.

Xander glanced down at his hands, once he’d forced them to stop shaking he looked up. "You're dead." He accused through gritted teeth.

"Of course I am," Jesse glowered.  "You killed me. Stake through the heart and you’re to blame. You give friendship a bad name."

"No," Xander shook his head even as he winced at the memory, "you were already dead."

"Oh, the dusting?"  Jesse shook his head.  "I wasn’t talking about that.  You never warned me."

"About what?"

"You overheard the Slayer and the Watcher talking about vampires, but you never told me about them!"

"You’re the First," Xander suddenly accused as he felt the blood drain from his face and recalled the time the First had attempted to drive Angel mad.

"You always were smarter than your grades, bro," the First laughed then shook his head, face sobering. "Don’t change the subject. You didn’t warn us, you wanted us out of the way, didn’t want to hang with me after all. After all you wanted a shot at Cordy didn’t you?"

Xander blinked, on the back-foot again, ashes in his mouth and mind still reeling from the horror of seeing his dead friend walking and talking to him. "I never even noticed her like that for another year-."

"Ha, you lying to yourself again Xander?" Jesse mocked, a most unJesse sneer on his face. "Because you might be able to convince yourself, but me," Jesse shook his head, "not so much."

Xander forced his spine to stiffen as he glared at the First. His mouth opened then closed again.

"But man, you’ve moved on since then haven’t you?" Jesse threw his head back and laughed. "Moving on from Frosty Panties to a sweet ride like Faith, bet that little tramp does things that all the good girls won’t even talk about. Sure, she’s not Buffy, but she’s not bad as a consolation prize!"

"Faith’s not a consolation prize." Xander replied, he realised his hands were shaking again, not from shock but a barely contained rage at his impotency, the realisation he couldn’t tear the head off the taunting demon, stop its foul mouth. "And she’s not a tramp."

"Really? She’s not a tramp?" Jesse laughed. "Try saying that with a little conviction, Xander. Or even better, try saying that in front of Buffy and Willow, and watch them laugh. That reminds me, do you think Willow’s really gay or in denial about still pining for you, bro?"

Xander blinked, storing the doubtfully-sourced news about Willow being gay away for further contemplation before smiling. Suddenly he got it, subtle the First wasn’t. "Is that what this little visit is about?" Xander shook his head and smirked. "Don’t go near Sunnydale or your dime-store Sauron act will get me?"

Jesse’s face rippled and flickered into something inhuman before returning to the even more terrifying visage of his childhood friend. "Listen boy-."

The snarl lifted the hairs off the back of his neck, but he continued regardless. "The name’s Xander, bitch. Xander. Remember that, Xander." Xander stared at Jesse, eyes boring through his deceased friend. "Remember it when I’m stomping your skull underfoot and drinking your marrow."

"Xander," he wasn’t able to hold back a goose-pimpling shiver when Jesse changed into Kendra, the black Slayer’s eyes as dark and liquid as he recalled, "you couldn’t protect me from Spike and Drusilla, how do you think you can save Faith from me? I’ll tear her heart out of her screaming body."

"You want Sunnydale?" Xander shook his head. "Not my problem, that’s one small town, the whole world’s my concern." Xander bluffed, knowing the fall of the Hellmouth could cause untold damage, but also knowing he had to fake the First into backing off. "Maybe Buffy stops you maybe she doesn’t. But I’m not her. I’m the descendent of the greatest warrior, the greatest leader this world has ever seen-."

Kendra laughed mockingly. "Descendent maybe, but I was around at the dawn of time, I saw him, and you’re not him."

Xander ignored his own doubts. "I’ve got my army, pull your ugly little snout out of whatever hole you’re hiding in, and we’ll stomp on it hard." Xander stepped towards ‘Kendra’. "There’ll be as much left of you as there has been of any other demon who thought they could take me."

"Really?" Kendra giggled. "You’re comparing those nonentities to me? The Chaos Lords, the First Ones, the Master Vampires, and all the paltry cults that populate this world would quake like children fearing the presence of their abusive father, something you know about, should I rise."

Xander ignored the barb at his childhood, responding with a tight smile. "Money talks, bullshit walks. You want me, I’m not hard to find, bring it."

Xander rocked back on his feet when Kendra shimmered Jenny. "Oh Xander," the deceased gypsy shook her head, "Giles did worry about you. He knew Buffy had her Slayer heritage and Willow her magical potential, although he never dreamed she’d be the power she is now. But you, he always worried that you were the weak one, the one that would let the group down by failing -." Jenny laughed as he buckled and fell to his knees, his shoulders shaking. "Oh Xander-."

"Fake out!" Xander grinned as he raised his head and looked up at the demon before rising. "Is that what you want? Me turning into a nervous wreck because of something you say?" He shook his head. "Not going to happen," he faltered when Jenny turned back into Jesse, but continued. "I know how the girl I love feels about me, I know what my friends think about me, and I know what my team leaders think. You think you spilling some dubious secrets from Jenny’s potential pillow-talk with a man who betrayed my girl is going to bother me?" Xander forced a laugh from his drier than the Sahara mouth. "Copperfield, come up with some new parlour tricks, because the ones you’ve got aren’t working."

"Alright then," Xander’s eyes widened when Jesse produced a stake, "how about an instant replay?" Before he could even blink the stake was driving into his ‘friend’s’ heart, the First disappearing in a cloud of dust. "Be seeing you Xander!"

Budapest’s windy, millenium old streets were drenched in history’s blood. Originally called Aquincum, a Celtic settlement, it had served as the Romans’ capital of Lower Pannonia, the Magyar hordes arriving there in the 9^th century and the first settlement pillaged by the rampaging Mongols in 1241. However centuries later the re-established city became a proud centre of the Renaissance humanist movement in the 15^th century. Following the tulmutous battle of Mochas and nearly one hundred and fifty years of Ottoman rule, the city entered a new age of prosperity in the 18 and 19^th centuries and once again was the site of dissent as the focal point of 1848’s Hungarian revolution. The violence continued even into the previous century, with 1944’s Operation Panzerfaust, the Battle of Budapest the following year, and the failed revolution of 1956.

Two decades ago Budapest had been ensnared in a Communist time-warp, but now the city had moved from an east european backwater to the revered status of one of Europe’s finest cities.

Yet still, another smaller, more private, but no less brutal battle was being fought that very night.

* * *

Modern Budapest was born in 1873, when Buda, Obuda, and Pest were offically joined together. Buda and Pest remain distinct, creating a fascinating west and east bank contrast, the city sliced in two by the Danube. Hilly Buda in the west was a maze of narrow cobbled streets, packed with medieval and neo-classical buildings. Flat Pest on the other banks has wide boulevards and art nouvea structure dating to the pre first world war thrown in with echoes of the Turkish and communist occupations.

Which all made for a beautiful yet bewildering mixture, and it wasn’t as if he was here as a toruist anyway.

Blade wheezed, pained breath whistling through his teeth as he struggled to stay upright, blood pounding in his ears. His eyes shot one way and then the other, then he launched himself forward, his feet almost soundless as he raced down the darkened alley.

It was the almost that worried him, his trackers had shown themselves to not only be dogged, but very, very skilled.

It had all started out as a normal vampire hunt, rumours of one of history’s most feared vampires raising their head after decades thought to be dead and setting up base. Instead he’d run into a skillfully laid trap of a sextuplet of maitrachal, pointy-eared, green-faced hulking demons.

Blade slumped against a rough-hewn wall, his vision briefly blurring then clearing. As well as out-numbering him, they’d been strong, stronger than him, and almost as fast. His only advantages had been his greater skill and his superior weaponry, but he’d run out of shells for his shotgun and lost his automatic sometime in the fight. All he had left were his bandoiler of throwing knives and the katana scabbarded on his back. He’d slain two of them, but the other four were out there hunting him.

He edged towards the alley’s mouth, ready to make a break for the exit at the crossroads’ far end then stopped at a sound unhearable by ears other than his own. His heart chilled as he saw a shadow ahead of him move. He glanced behind him, retreat was not only against his nature but tactically unwise, driving him back towards the other demons.

Before he knew it his sword was in his hand. He rocked back on his heels then launched himself forward, leaping across the wide crossroads in a single bound, the blade flashing down in an arc.

Blood spurted out of his mouth when his adversary spun to face him, sledgehammer fist crashing into his tortured ribs. His adversary’s pained cry echoed in his ears as his blade cut through not the demon’s neck as he’d aimed but into her hauberk’s shoulder, crimson spilling from the wound.

Blade cursed as his adversary’s pummelling fists forced his withdrawl, his sword remaining wedged in the scales of the beast’s armour. Instead he drew a pair of daggers and set himself.

The creature’s roar rent the cold, damp air, then it launched itself forward, eyes flashing in the darkness. Blade darted forward, faked a back-step, then finally propelled himself forward, powering through his calves. His left dagger he threw, aiming for the monster’s eye. The moment its head moved to avoid the projectile, his right came up in an uppercut motion, plunging deep into the monster’s trunklike neck.

"Aaaah!" Blade let out a pained howl when the monster’s thick arms closed on him and grabbed him in a hug, ribs threatening to splintered as it thrashed around in its death-thores. Its stench filled his nostrils as he slammed his head into the demon’s face, over and over, each blow shattering yet more bone, but it only dropped him on his fourth butt.

Blade grunted as he hit the cobbles on his side, then rolled away to avoid the falling monster. Blade forced himself to his knees, reached out a shaking with weariness hand and dragged his sword free of the demonic corpse.

Then he dragged himself to his feet and doggedly continued on his way, breath coming in tortured rasps.

* * *

Whistler looked up from his welding at the sound of one of his proximity alerts sending out a warning. "Damn it," he grumbled, "can never get any work done in here." Snatching up his shotgun, he turned off the lights and quickly moved to the hidey-hole by the door.

The seconds stretched into minutes, making him think whatever had set off the proximity alert had just been an accident. Then he stiffened at the sound of fingers scrabbling at the warehouse’s iron door. After another few moments, the door creaked open and a figure limped in.

"Blade!" Whistler gasped as his protégé’s condition, one arm hung limply by the black’s side, the other was wrapped around his torso as if holding every organ in, and his face was swollen and bloodied as if someone had used it as a football. Whistler leapt forward and grabbed his friend as the vampire fighter slumped to the ground. "What happened son?" he growled as he helped him to a bench.

"Call the Mithras Quartet," Blade instructed through blood-swollen lips. "Tell them, tell them Bathory’s alive!"

History’s weight pressed heavy on his chest as he crouched by the graveside, his fingers tracing the letters of the name etched on the gravestone. His family had tortuous history, his grand-parents had been amongst the first to flee Hitler’s depredations in the late 30s, just the suspicion of Jewish ancestry would not be tolerated under his unyielding regime. And so they’d fled to Hungary, perhaps not the wisest decision to stop running. Maybe they’d been too tired to continue running, maybe they’d thought that Hitler would stay in his own land, maybe they hadn’t been able to afford to continue on, maybe they’d had nowhere to go.

Whatever the reason, they’d been trapped in the country when it was more or less annexed by the Germans in 1938. They’d been in Budapest during Operation Panzerfaust, his grandparents dying as ‘unfortunate’ civilian casualties, a decade before he’d been born. He was a small child by the time of The Hungarian Revolution in ’56, all he could really remember of his parents was their fear in those days, and then he and his older brother were rushed out of the country and into an uncle’s care.

And the next he knew, he was being told his parents were dead, trampled under a tank.

Grief twisted at his chest, clawing coldly at his heart. It had been too long since he had been home from America, a combination of hurt at their deaths and anger that they hadn’t fled with him robbing him of his will to come back and pay his respects. But six months ago his uncle had passed, leaving his deceased parents as his last link to the past, and he had to come.

John Kruger of the US. Marshal service rose with a sigh and started back to his hotel, the weight of every one of his fifty years slumping his usually square shoulders.

* * *

"Holy shit!" Faith gasped as she stared up at the hotel before her. "What is this place called again?"

"The Gresham Palace," Xander replied.

"Palace, no shit." Faith pursed her lips together and whistled. The white hotel had a spired tower on either end with a smooth facade that drew attention up to its sweeping roof, gleaming bay windows, and artfully curved pilasters. "If the service is half as good as this place looks," Faith let out a peal of laughter. "I love my freakin’ life!"

"Even with the carnage and mayhem?" Kennedy queried as they entered the spotless art nouveau reception area.

"You kiddin’ right?" Faith grinned and laughed. "Especially the carnage and mayhem!" Faith glanced towards Tara, her expression curious. "Speakin’ of which, what’s the 411 on Bathory?"

"Elizabeth Bathory?" Tara shook her head as the three of them moved to the back of the reception area and sat down, Xander striding to the reception area to book in. "Do you never read anything on vampires?"

"Nah," Faith winked at her best friend, "that’s why I got you." In all honesty, she was pretty studied up on the American vampires, but not the European Masters. Besides, it was always fun to jerk Tara’s chain.

Tara sighed. "History recalls Bathory as a madwoman, a Hungarian countess who believed that bathing in the blood of virgins would keep looking young, so she murdered over six hundred women and children-."

"Lucky she didn’t live in South Boston," Faith interrupted with a smirk. "She’d have been screwed looking for virgins, and really I know no other woman has my natural hotness, but that’s one radical skin care regime."

Tara glared, but continued on. "However, she really was a Hungarian Countess turned in 1590 by another notorious vampire, Giles De Rais. De Rais is another interesting character, a serial killer of children, knight, and companion of Joan de Arc. And that’s before he was turned."

"Now that sounds like a regular nutcase," Faith commented. "But Bathory?"

Tara nodded. "Bathory has a decent reputation as a sorcerer, as a consequence, all the other major vampires – The Master, Lothos, Nostroyev, Dracula and the others all gave her a wide berth."

"Sounds like a treasure," Faith drawled. "And Blade thinks she’s here?" Excitement gleamed in her eyes. "Wicked."

"You’re nuts." Kennedy shook her head and rose. "Xander’s finished. Come on."

* * *

Braziers flickered and burnt in every corner of the basement, lending little in either heat or light to the grim chamber. Bathory kept her head bowed as she entered the room, careful as always to show her respect. "Another sacrifice has been added to the number," she whispered.

"And how many is that?" her master rasped impatiently.

"The tenth," she supplied before hesitating. "Sir, for the 13^th, for the last, I need one of special blood-."

"Hmmm," her master let out a low, unamused chuckle. "Do you? Do you really?" She saw the shadowy silhouette of her master’s head shake. "Sometimes I wonder if your thirsts override your good sense. Still, it would do us good to be thought of as the ones that did such deeds. Which of the group would suffice?"

Bathory knew any protestations to innocence would only inflame her master’s mercurial temper "The Potential," Bathory shook her head. "She is as her title suggests, one with the potential for greatness, but fate has not decreed it yet. The witch or the Slayer have blood of power as does the dhampir, but ideally I would take the warrior-god."

There was a momentary silence as her master leaned forward, the light briefly illuminating his angular features, yellow eyes burning with ambition. "But any one of them would do?"

"Any but the Potential," she agreed.

"Then it is decided, do not hold out for the warrior-god, take your opportunity and take the one you can," her master replied. "And do not make the mistake others have, these are not to be under-estimated."

"We won’t." Bathory bowed her head. "But we have the sisters and they are as dedicated to our cause as we are."

"Yes," her master chuckled, "we have the sisters."

"Nice digs," Blade commented as he and Whistler entered the spacious and beautifully furnished suite that Xander had invited them to. Lucky he wasn’t self-conscious or anything, otherwise he’d feel really outta place here.

"Hey," Faith drawled, the brunette beauty, sprawled out in one of the room’s chairs, her feet resting on what looked to be an expensive if not antique coffee table, "this could be like yours, if you’d taken Xan up on his offer."

"Harris," Whistler glanced towards Xander, "ever figure on gettin’ a muzzle for your gal-pal?"

Faith shot Whistler a smile that had little warmth in it. "Speakin’ of muzzles, has Blade forgotten your leash, old man?"

Xander sighed. "Am I the only one in here who plays well with others?" Xander grinned when Tara coughed meaningfully. "Of course, I forgot Wiccadom’s own contribution to the UN, my bad."

"Forgiven," the lesbian’s eyes twinkled with amusement, "this time."

Xander looked towards them again. "Gentlemen, if you take a seat." Xander looked towards Kennedy sat by the room’s phone. "We were just going to order some food and drinks, if you want anything?"

"I could kill for a Bud and some onion rings," Whistler growled.

"I’ll take a Bud and a couple of steaks," Blade glanced at Faith and came as close as he’d manage to a smile, "the sort you eat and don’t carve."

"Okay," Xander looked towards Kennedy who quickly dialled the phone and started ordering. Xander looked back towards him. "I suppose you didn’t call us here just so you could sample the hotel’s cuisine?"

"Well it is supposed to be divine." Blade shook his head. "Three weeks ago one of Whistler’s contacts got a lead that Bathory wasn’t dead as we thought but alive, so to speak, and plotting some sort of apocalypse in Hungary."

"Apocalypse, there’s a word to make you feel all warm and fuzzy," Faith drawled.

"Any details on how this apocalypse is meant to occur and what it actually is?" Xander queried as he leaned forward in his chair, the young man’s eyes meeting his.

"Not then," Whistler shook his head and growled. "But since hitting Budapest we’ve run into reports of ritualistic killings."

Xander looked towards Tar who sighed theatrically. "Give me the laptop and I’ll have look." The witch looked towards Whistler. "Details please?"

Whistler grinned at Xander. "You must love surrounding yourself with bossy women, kid?"

Faith snorted. "Only way he gets anythin’ done."

Whistler chuckled lowly before turning to the witch and beginning to detail the dates of the murders, the dates they’d took place on, and the names of the victims. "What makes you think they’re ritualistic?"

"The victims all have a different roman numeral daubed on them in their own blood," Blade replied.

Xander grimaced. "Could be coincidence, it isn’t that unusual as far as serial killers go."

"Bathory was a blood witch," Blade pointed out. "And vampires and blood are always entwined."

"True," Xander shrugged. "How many victims have there been?"

Blade grunted. "That’s a more confusing question that you might think. Eight corpses have turned up, but they’re numbered 1 – 10, with four and seven missing."

"So either two corpses haven’t been discovered or the killer’s really, really bad at their Roman history," Xander concluded.

"I’m not the optimistic sort," Blade replied. "I’m bettin’ on the first."

"Not the optimistic sort?" Faith snorted. "With your sunny nature?"

Blade was saved from having to defend himself by a knock at the door. "That’ll be our food," Kennedy announced as she rose, strode over to the door, opened it, signed for the trolley and shoved it in. "Everyone grab what they ordered."

Xander spoke once they’d finished eating. "So, Bathory, any ideas where she’s hiding?"

Blade scowled. He healed quickly, but the night before last’s battering still hurt his pride. "I thought I had a lead the night Whistler phoned you," he finally admitted. "But it turned out to be a trap. Either Bathory knew I was coming and set up a trap, or some really badass demons decided to make a rep by offing me."

"Okay," Xander’s eyes narrowed. "How about you describe these demons so we-." Tara coughed meaningfully again. "Tara can look them up and see if they have habits that can help us track them down."

"Kay," Blade closed his eyes in concentration, brow furrowing as he recalled that humiliating night. He opened his eyes. "They were all women, but not the sort you’d ask for a date." Blade glanced at his mentor. "Well maybe he would."

"Funny," Whistler shook his head and glared back at him. "These kids are a bad influence."

Blade smirked before continuing. "These demons were all big, six and a half feet with linebackers, pointy ears and green faces-.’

"Shit!" All the colour fled from the Slayer’s face, leaving her grey as something close to shame flickered in her eyes. "Jhe demons," she declared as she leapt up, "I gotta, I gotta book."

Without another word the Slayer rushed from the room. "Damn-," Xander began to rise with an apologetic look at them, "I’ve gotta-."

"I’ll go," Kennedy interrupted before chasing after the Slayer.

Even as she hurried from the room Kennedy wondered why exactly she was doing this. Heck, she even wondered just why she and Faith fought so much. Was it because their personalities were so similar? Because they competed for Tara’s attention? Because Faith was the Slayer and Kennedy could be only Called upon her death? All or none of the above?

Nah, Kennedy shook her head and grinned, it was just because Faith was a prickly bitch.

Speaking of which, Kennedy caught up with her rival\team-mate\friend waiting for the gilded elevator. "So you know these Jhe demons?" Kennedy decided on an airily nonchalant tone.

"Just, just leave it." The taller brunette remained staring steadfastedly at the gleaming elevator doors.

Kennedy’s mouth dropped open as she noticed the tear-tracks down the Slayer’s high cheeks, before she could think she blurted out. "You’ve been crying!"

The Slayer winced and self-consciously wiped at her eyes. "Five seconds brat, five seconds."

"Yeah, yeah," Kennedy took her life into her own hands and grabbed Faith by the arm.

"What the hell!"

Kennedy hid a wince at the Slayer’s volcanic glare. "Let’s get past my obvious terror of you, we need to talk," Kennedy commented as she dragged the east coast native towards her motel room.

"To you?" Faith snorted.

"No-one else is available," Kennedy replied as she searched through her pockets for the room key, "shocking isn’t it?"

"Curiosity killed the cat," Faith growled. "Wanna see if it can kill you?"

Kennedy forced down a gulp. She better call a halt on the smart-ass comments for a few minutes. "Judging from the sta-, the way you stormed out of there, something’s up and you need someone to talk to."

"And why the fuck am I gonna talk to you?" Faith demanded as the hotel door swung open.

"Huh," Kennedy raised an eyebrow, that question had her stumped too, "full liquor cabinet?" When Faith grunted, Kennedy turned, closed the door, before looking towards her reluctant companion. "Look, you clearly need someone to talk to. Tara and Xander are busy, your uncle’s back in Boston. So I’m nominated."

"Jesus," Faith slumped down on the room’s velvet-upholstered couch, "I need to expand my circle of friends."

"Imagine things from my end," Kennedy groused.

Faith half-grinned at her complaint. "Me baring my soul to you, gettin’ me all vulnerable and on the couch, your dream since the first day we met."

"Eww," Kennedy shuddered at the accusation, "gross."

"Just no cracks ‘bout sexual healin’, ‘cause I’ll have to get physical only not in the way you want." Faith’s grin disappeared. "’Bout that liquor cabinet of yours, throw me a bottle of Jacks."

Kennedy found and threw the bottle to the Slayer who snatched it out of air with a nod and a grunt. "So the Jhe demons?"

"Yeah it was back in Sunndyale," Faith’s dark eyes widened slightly. "Shit, January 1999. Fucking ages ago." Faith paused to take a long swing of the very expensive whiskey.

Kennedy waited for the Slayer to continue. When she didn’t, she coughed meaningfully.

"Yeah," Faith started slightly. "Sorry." The curvy Bostonian looked down. "B’s Watcher, Giles-."

"Yeah, I know about him," Kennedy replied.

"Oh yeah," another shadow flittered over Faith’s face. "London, when the Council got their-." Faith shivered then stiffened. "Anyhow, G got word that this major demonic order was gonna open up the Hellmouth."

"The Sisterhood?" Kennedy guessed.

"Yeah," Faith nodded between swigs at the bottle. "Being the head up their, well I suppose our, asses we all were, we decided this fight was too big for Xan, despite him bein’ a major player in stopping both the Master and Angelus. Fucking geniuses the lot of us." Faith shook her head as she took another swig. "Like Will was that much more use, bitch could barely levitate a pencil back then, not like the rumours we hear ‘bout her now. Anyway, we cut him out, but he finds trouble of his own-."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, some fucked up bunch of zombies," Faith shook her head, confusion filling her dark eyes. "Never did hear how that all played out." Faith shrugged, the creases on her forehead clearing. "Must have turned out okay, he’s still here." Faith pursed her curved lips. "Anyhow, you know how I stayed on Sunnydale’s rough side?" Kennedy nodded. "We’d all, ‘cept Xan who was on the outs for his own good, arranged to meet up back at the school that night to stop the Jhe, so I’ve just set off, but I run into one of these Jhe demons." Faith shook her head and took another gulp of the rapidly diminishing whiskey. "I was nowhere near the fighter I am now, but those fuckers are big and tough. It was bouncing me around like it was Kobe Bryant and I was its favourite basket ball, I’d have beaten it in the end, but it was getting some pretty good zingers."

"Just then." Faith smiled, dimples deepening and perfect white teeth flashing. "Just then I heard the sound of this car engine roaring and this voice shouting to get out of the way. This car roars into the scene, hits the demon as I back-flip outta the way, completely totals it, I jump into the car, only now realising it’s X, and tell him to get to back to my place. Anyway, he takes me back. Pops my shoulder back in for me, I realise I’m horny, I owe him one, and he’s there. So I throw him onto the bed and fuck him."

"Ewww," Faith raised an eyebrow at Kennedy’s disgusted noise. "Sorry, we don’t get on, but I have eyes, and you have a banging body, it seems to waste it on straight sex when you could be making a series of lesbians very happy."

"Ha!" Faith snorted before taking a shot of the whiskey. "Thanks for the compliment, but I tried it, didn’t take." Faith shook her head, something that looked like loathing in her eyes. "But then, I take this great guy, who not only just saved my life, but whose virginity I just took, and throw him out onto the street wearing nothing but his boxers just ‘cause I was scared of makin’ a connection."

"Oh," Kennedy stared at her companion. Now she got it, the memory wasn’t the awfulness of the Jhe, but the awfulness of the way Faith had treated the man she now adored.

"Yeah, just ‘cause my first time was the shits, doesn’t mean I should-," Faith shook her head. "It wasn’t just that night, but the next few weeks too. This romantic dumbass doesn’t get it. He thinks just ‘cause I was his first, cause we slept together, it meant somethin’. So he starts following me ‘bout, not stalkin’ or nothin’, but annoyin’."

"What changed?" Kennedy asked.

Faith took another swig then smiled. "We’re on patrol, me and blondie, Xan doin’ his hound dog impression behind when we walk into this vampire ambush. I’m on fire, dusting left and right, I swing my stake down, and suddenly Xander’s there, crashing into this guy who’d blundered into the ambush, knocking him outta way and gettin’ a stake in the shoulder from me." Faith shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes again. "This stupid noble asshole thought enough of me to save me from killing an innocent, and after I’d treated him like, like somethin’ off the bottom of my shoe!"

"You know Xander loves you don’t you?" Kennedy queried.

"Duh," Faith wiped at her eyes, "not the point."

"Sorta is," Kennedy softly disagreed. "He’s forgiven you, maybe you should forgive yourself."

Faith’s eyes burnt through her. "Kinda my choice that."

"Maybe it is," Kennedy agreed. "But this wasn’t your fault really. You’d been programmed to believe guys only wanted one thing, it’s not really your fault if you don’t recognise a guy who wants more. Maybe you should just be grateful that he didn’t let his walls stop him?"

"Yeah, maybe." Faith smiled weakly. "You tell anyone I cried and I kick your ass."

Xander looked up as his girl-friend and Kennedy strode back in the room. He closed his mouth, question dying on his lips at Faith’s half-smile at his concerned look. They’d have words later, but for now it would have to be business. "We’ve triangulated the murders as best we could to pick out an area to patrol tonight," Xander said. "I’ll take one group with Faith and Kennedy. Tara will go with Blade and Whistler, we’ll keep in touch via our cells, okay?"

* * *

John Kruger stared sadly at the gravestone, guilty sadness weighing heavy on his chest. During the day he’d explore the city his parents had lived and died in, look at the monuments that dominated an ancient city he barely remembered from his childhood. But every night he was drawn back here to stare at his parents’ gravestone, the sounds of the never-slumbering city lingering around him.

John shook his head as he pulled his jacket close against the night’s biting chill. There was nothing left to be done here, no more words he could say.

Turning, he trudged through the city, a shroud of despair resting heavy on his broad shoulders.

He was making his way through Budapest’s catacombed, windy streets, the city’s noise intermittingly increasing then dwindling away to a whisper depending on where his route took him, when he heard it. His brow furrowed and eyes narrowed at the footfall behind him, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. Perhaps it was another tourist or a local making their way home via the same route as he’d picked, or perhaps he’d picked up a more nefarious tail.

John kept on walking, forcing himself to remain calm even as he ducked in and out of lamp-lit alleys, grimacing at their emptiness. The narrow passageways were winding and difficult to tail someone in, but what he really needed was a crowd to disappear into. John stopped at a crossroads, glancing left and right as he strained to hear where people appeared to be.

Turning to the left, he hurried down a slight, cobble-stoned slope and turned left into a side-street. "Ah hell," John grimaced as he came up to a nine-foot high brick wall with what appeared to be broken glass glued to its top. For a moment he considered taking his overcoat off and using it to protect his hands in an attempt to climb the wall, but instead he turned and hurried back the way he’d come. If he couldn’t finesse his way out of this, let the muggers try, he didn’t need a gun to handle a couple of street punks.

"What the -!" John stumbled back, his eyes widening in horror, when suddenly the alley’s opening was filled by a trio of line-backer sized things that could only be described as demons.

Forcing his thundering heart under control, he dropped down onto one knee, scooped up a broken bottle lying there and lunged at the demon to his left, the bottle’s jagged edge swinging up at the monster’s face. John’s eyes bulged when the creature swung its right arm up to block the attack, glass shattering on its studded vambrace.

"Guggg," John gurgled helplessly when the creature’s other arm shot out, its thick, powerful fingers clenching around his throat, lifting him a foot off the ground and slamming him into the wall, John only just managing to pull his head forward and away from the wall before impact. The demon snarled then grunted as he drove his knee up into its chest, eyes widening as he belatedly realised his attacker was in fact female.

A gauntleted backhand to the face drew blood and the stars erupting before his eyes drove away any gentlemanly thoughts of chivalry. Instead he forced away the pain crashing through his battered face and drove a second and third knee up into the demon’s chest.

"Ugggh." Suddenly the demon released her grip around his neck and stumbled backwards, dropping him on his ass, the landing jarring through him. Seeing a foot flying in at his face, John flung himself out of the way. "Oooof!" The air gusted from his lungs when another of the demons booted him in the stomach but John ignored the pain to hook his feet around the demon’s grounded lower leg and pull.

The demon let out a surprised roar as it fell on the ass, its companions letting out amused grunts even as they advanced on him.

"Three on one? Is this a private dance party?"

* * *

Even as Faith spoke, she was leaping into action, the tension of earlier translating into an even greater than normal eagerness for some action. The nearest demon was still turning to face her when she hit it with a trio of lightning-fast knees to the lower back, doubling the demon up into an uppercut to the jaw that landed with bone-cracking impact. Faith smirked at the demon’s reeling, taking advantage by leg-sweeping the beast’s hamstrings, knocking it onto its ass, her blade coming down for an easy decapitation.

Except pain exploded in her head, knocking her back a step when another of the demons caught her with a powerful right to the forehead. Faith was still trying to shake her head clear when her adversary leapt over her downed companion and charged her.

Faith swayed dazedly as the demon raced towards her, then at the last second darted to her right, leaving her foot behind. The moment the demon stumbled over her foot, she reached around, grabbed the demon by her collar, twisted around, and flung the demon face-first into the wall, spinning around in a graceful pirouette that ended with her sword swinging up and slicing the demon’s head off her shoulders, blood geysering out of its stumpy head as the beast crumpled to the ground.

Faith spun around to see Kennedy taking the head off the Jhe demon she’d put down but not had chance to finish off, while Xander was finishing off the third demon. Satisfied that her team-mates had everything in hand, Faith turned to the downed man they’d just saved and reached out a hand. "Hey, you five-," her jaw dropped open, blood draining from her face as she backed away, legs turning to rubber. "Xander! You gotta see this!"

Blade stalked through the darkened city, his mentor and the witch flanking him. It was strange, normally he was a loner working only grudgingly with anyone bar Whistler, and yet the witch had a sort of soothing effect on him.

Which was exactly the opposite effect her very beautiful but very bombastic best friend had.

Blade stopped, eyes narrowing as his hand reached over his shoulder to grasp at his katana’s hilt, other hand rising to signal his companions to stop and hold their positions. Blade’s breath caught as his better than normal eyes made out a trio of hulking silhouettes in the shadows ahead of them. His head moved slowly, looking over his shoulder to see if there were any more of the demons behind him. His heart sank when he noted the three, no five, demons there.

Then his blade was darting out of its scabbard and he was leaping forward, his companions splitting off to tackle those to his rear. His naked blade gleamed in the darkness, and then it was slicing into the neck of the nearest demon, blood spurting everywhere as he glided on, under the next one’s bruising fists and inside, his left hook smashing into the demon female’s jaw.

The demon staggered back, eyes burning with hatred. Blade lunged forward, seeking to press his advantage. Blade scowled as he was forced in retreat by the charge of the first demon, the demon he could have sworn he’d slain, blood still gushing from her neck. Ducking under a left, he brought his katana back up, the blade’s edge once again slicing up, this time tearing through the beast’s fleshy chin, its ascent only stopping when it hit bone, the demon falling back with a cry.

Sensing a presence behind him, Blade shot out a foot, his heel smashing into another of the demon’s chest as he spun to face the one he’d hooked in the jaw. Lights went off as the demon’s overhand right crashed into his forehead, instinct carrying him in a pirouette away from a follow-up uppercut, his sword flashing out.

The demon ducked his attack, its companion charging back in only to be fended off with another kick, this one crashing into his knee. But then, before he could plant himself back on the ground, the other demon charged into him, hitting with a juggernaut’s impact, the blow flinging him into the wall. Before he could react both demons were on him, their blows pounding him to the ground.

* * *

Whistler grunted as he flew through the air, propelled by a contemptuous backhand to the chest. His flight only ended when he crashed into the wall, his head bouncing off the staunch concrete, stars igniting before his eyes as he slid down onto its wet cobbles. "Fuck," he vaguely heard the sound of his shotgun clattering to the ground and reached blindly around for it. "Yes!" he exulted as his fingers closed on the gun’s barrel, looking up, he returned his gaze to the on-going battle.

In time to get a knee to the face that sent his head snapping back to re-connect with the wall, lights briefly exploding before his eyes before plunging into darkness, blood’s coppery taste filling his mouth as he passed out.

* * *

John Krueger gasped in relief as a curvy brunette burst out of nowhere and attacked his assailants with a fearless ferocity that was both beautiful and terrifying to behold, dodging blows that should have by all rights connected with destructive impact, and brushing off blows that did land and should have at the very least knocked her off her feet like they were nothing. Then the demons that had pummelled him were gone as if they were nothing, the girl’s, because she wasn’t much more than a kid that was for damn sure, limpid eyes dropping on him, taking him in and holding him in a world of concern. . "Hey, you five-," the beauty’s curved lips dropped open, blood draining from her beautiful features as she suddenly retreated. "Xander! You gotta see this!"

And then suddenly the girl reversed course and lunged at him, leaning over to grab him by the front of his overcoat, effortlessly lift his 225lb bulk off the ground and slam him into the wall. "You ain’t gettin’ us!" the beauty’s snarl was bestial, dark eyes gleaming with murder. His hands slammed into her forearms but it was like trying to pry off steel. "You got one try and you failed!"

"Faith!" Suddenly the trio’s solitary male was stood by the snarling brunette’s side. "He can’t be one of them, three Jhes wouldn’t have taken him down!"

‘Faith’s’ eyes didn’t shift from him. "No way Xan," Faith grated. "You were there, he’s gotta be one!"

"What is going on?" demanded the trio’s other brunette. "Do we mug victims now?"

"Faith, his eye is swelling, one of them wouldn’t do that!" ‘Xan’ said. "He must be someone they modelled the cyborg’s body on."

"Cyborg?" John’s gaze snapped from the brunette to her hulking companion. These people were mad, cyborgs? But then demons hadn’t been a part of his world-view before a couple of minutes ago.

"Yeah," something flickered in Faith’s eyes, all at once the grip on his jacket was gone, allowing him to slump against the wall. "I guess." The brunette shook her head and turned away from him. "Let’s book."

"Hey!" John forced his wobbly legs under control and shoved off the wall. "You can’t just walk out like this!"

Faith spun to face him, a look of dry amusement in her expressive eyes. "Kinda think we can. I might have slapped you ‘bout a little, but I had just saved your ass so let’s call it even, five by five."

"Looks like Faith’s filling out her application to the UN Ambassadorial Corps again, Xander," the other brunette commented.

"Oh that’s right, Ken," the trio’s male shook his head and sighed, "just stir the pot a little why don’t you?"

"You can’t just walk away!" John snapped, anger replacing his confusion. "I won’t let you!"

"You won’t let me?" the slightly-built girl turned back towards him and smirked, seemingly standing on the balls of her feet. "And how ya gonna stop me, pops?"

John coloured at the impudence in the brunette beauty’s voice. "Look, I want answers. What were those things?"

"I give up!" The brunette glared at him for a second then flashed him a dimple-deepening smile and threw her hands up. "Ken, give him the talk!" Faith looked towards the group’s male who was busy talking on a cell. "Problem, Xan?"

"Oh yeah," Xander scowled. "Big problem."

"Shit!" Faith rushed into the hotel room, heart thundering as she noticed her sis’ swollen eye, then pulled reluctantly back, allowing Kennedy to beat her to her best friend. Instead she turned to the battered man sat on the armchair beside Tara’s couch. "How you holdin’ up old timer?"

The man smiled weakly, concern for his lost protégé filling his eyes. "Been better kid, seen you picked yourself up a new admirer."

"Collect ‘em like lice," Faith equably agreed with a glance over her shoulder to the middle-aged muscle-man stood beside Xander, "and some of them are as about welcome." Faith returned her gaze to Whistler. "Guy says he’s an US. Marshal with the Witness Protection Program, we rescued him from a trio of Jhe. I was figurin’ on gettin’ Tara to read him, and then if he comes through, he says he wants to help." Faith shrugged. "We’ll get your boy back, don’t worry-."

"The Roman Numerals," Tara suddenly broke in and shook her head. "Oh I’m so dumb-."

"No arguments there," Faith wisecracked then shut up at the witch’s glare.

"They’re going up to a number, the number 13," Tara groaned. "It has to be 13, and Bathory was always into blood. That’s what makes Blade special, his blood."

"So she’s gonna hold the boy ‘til the last?" growled Whistler, relief briefly flickering in the veteran demon hunter’s eyes then disappearing to be replaced by cold professionalism.

"That would be my guess," Tara agreed. "And we know they were going to get another sacrifice tonight," everyone’s eyes turned to an uncomfortable-looking Krueger, "so that would be eleven-."

"Assuming that there haven’t been more killed that haven’t been discovered," Xander sceptically commented.

"Nah," Faith shook her head, "look at the dates, unless they’re doin’ two a night, they’d be pushed to have done another two."

"Not sure about your logic but I’ll go with it," Xander conceded. "So they’re at ten or maybe eleven if they managed to snatch someone last night. That means if Tara’s right, we’ve got some time until they do something with Blade."

"Unless they snatched him for some other reason entirely," Kennedy commented.

"Doesn’t make any sense," Tara disagreed with a shake of her head. "If they wanted him just dead, why not kill him there. If they wanted him as a hostage, why not leave a demand with us?"

"’Kay," Faith nodded. "Say me and Ken are convinced, how we gonna get Blade back?"

"Shouldn’t be a problem." Whistler smiled suddenly. "Few years ago, a bunch of vamps grabbed me to use in a trap against Blade, he sprang it, but since then we’ve gotten under the skin GPS chips so we can track each other within a hundred mile radius."

"GPS chips," Xander mused. "What a good idea."

"Don’t even go there," Faith shook her head. "Too much like bein’ a fuckin’ pet."

"And she’s no one’s idea of being a pet," Kennedy snarked.

Whistler ignored them in favour of looking towards Xander. "Got a laptop, kid?"

"Sure," Xander pulled a laptop encased in silver out of the Always Pocket and passed it over to the weathered warrior, then pulled out another and passed it to Tara, "Tara while he’s doing that, could you check on Mr. Krueger’s story?" Xander glanced up at the hulking US. Marshal. "If you wouldn’t mind sir?"

"Sure," Krueger nodded.

* * *

Flaming torch lights lining his chamber flickered as the door swung open and a gust of wind flew in just ahead of the vampire sorceress. "Your trip," he leaned forward in his seat, unable to avoid the hiss of excitement that thickened his accent, "how did it go?"

Bathory dropped to one knee before his throne, head bent in supplication. "We met with opposition," the former noblewoman replied.

"Opposition?" He half-rose from his seat before calming himself and sinking back in his chair.

"Yes, we ran into the Slayer and her group, we took losses but did get the twelfth sacrifice and an even greater prize, the thirteenth."

"Oh?" Excitement gripped him at the oblique reference to one of the special blood. "Which one?"

Bathory’s eyes were smiling as they rose to meet his. "The dhampir, Blade."

"Excellent," it was an effort but he managed to keep his excitement under control. How delicious it was for the freak that had for so long tormented his people be the one who would finally bring about the demise of the creatures he’d fought so long and hard to protect. "I assume you plan to enact the rites on the twelfth tonight?"

Bathory shook her head. "I’m afraid not, because we were thwarted in our first attempts to get a victim it’s gotten too late to finish the rites by the prescribed hour."

He scowled. "Then ensure both victims are held securely for the night. Tomorrow will be the twelfth’s demise, and the night after will be Blade’s."

"And then," Bathory’s eyes gleamed with a most arousing unholy glee, "the world will end."

"And as for that," he smiled and rose, his arm out-stretched towards his fellow vampire, "let us celebrate the upcoming apocalypse in my quarters."

* * *

"He is human, right?" Tara stared at the man in front of her, Faith’s husky-voiced query echoing in her ears. Goddess, he looked just like that cyborg that had almost killed them all. "Sis?"

"Yeah, he’s got an aura. He can’t be a cyborg." Tara nodded jerkily, Faith’s voice forcing her out of her funk.

"Told you." Xander smirked even as tension left her friend’s shoulders.

"Smart-ass," Faith bumped hips with Xander even as she looked towards Tara. "What ‘bout his story, bein’ an US. Marshal?"

"What’s your name, sir?" Tara asked, her voice soft and soothing.

"John Kruger," the man-mountain rumbled, a bewildered look on his chiselled from granite features. "And yes, I’m an US. Marshal with the Witness Protection Program." The man paused, eyes briefly saddening. "I’m here to pay respects to my paren-. I was returning from the graveyard where my parents are interned when I was attacked by the demons." The man paused and glanced towards Faith and Xander. "You saved my life, if I can help in any way to get your friend back, I’m ready."

Tara looked towards Faith and Xander, noticing their expectant looks. "He’s telling the truth."

"Wicked," Faith shot the man a speculative look, "so if you’re an US. Marshal, you’ll know how to handle yourself, right?"

"Hey," Whistler let out a triumphant growl. "I’ve found the kid."

"Great," Xander strode over to the veteran vampire hunter working on his laptop, "where is he?"

"Co-ordinates are just matching up to his posit-," Whistler’s voice trailed off, wrinkles on his craggy face deepening as he stared at the computer screen. "That can’t be right?"

"What can’t be?" Xander dropped into a crouch beside the man.

"Give me a second," Whistler replied. Xander waited more or less patiently as the older man opened up another window on his desktop and typed something in. "Damn." Confusion filled the aging warrior’s eyes as he leaned back in his seat. "That doesn’t make any sense?"

"What doesn’t make any sense?" Xander pressed.

"Sorry," Whistler grunted as he looked towards Xander. "I was expecting the co-ordinates to be the usual type of place, industrial estate, condemned block of flats, but this." Whistler shook his head.

"Is?" Xander prompted, a touch of impatience entering his voice. If the vampire hunter didn’t start filling in the details and fast he was going to get very annoyed.

"Yeah," Whistler shook his head again. "The co-ordinates lead to a night-club in Budapest’s most exclusive district. The place used to be a sort of pleasure palace for the commie higher-ups from the seventies until they got booted out, lotta bad rumours about what they got away with there. Now it’s an invite only place, the sorta place that has rock stars, actors, businessmen, trust fund kids, and crimelords on the guest list. Just to get on the list costs quarter of a million of dollars a year. You want anything, food, drugs, sex, it’s there, real decadent hole. Costs a fortune, but everything’s the finest quality. Place is wired in to local politics at the highest levels, it’s never raided."

"Sounds like it’s so out there in the open people can’t bear to see it," Xander mused before shaking his head. "Perfect cover for a vampire den, they must be underground or hidden in some rooms there. Who owns this club?"

"Yeah," Whistler tapped at the computer for a few seconds before replying. "Owner’s listed as an investment company, but its front man claims to be the son of a Hungarian war hero who fled the country and became a successful businessman in the US., claims he returned to contribute to Hungary’s finances and culture."

"How?" Xander queried. "By re-creating Sodom & Gomorrah?" Noting Whistler’s surprised stare, he quickly explained. "6^th Grade Religious Education, Mrs. Swash made quite an impact." Well actually his thoughts about the shapely teacher would have been right at home in Sodom & Gomorrah.

Realising he’d digressed, he quickly ordered his thoughts. "I guess a place with that many rich and influential people indulging in their ‘quirks’ won’t want in security to keep out the paparazzi and crooks?"

"Well, most of the world’s media tycoons are members so getting photos from the place published would be impossible, actually taking a photo there would be a career-killer. But yeah, the owners don’t want rival gangs making a play for one of their competitors there, so they’ve practically got a small army," Whistler replied. "Highly professional, all ex East European special forces – Russia, Czech Republic, Yugoslavia, Poland, Romania, and Hungary."

"Great," Xander shook his head. "We need to get on that guest list. Once inside I can equip the others with anything I need."

Whistler shook his head. "That ain’t gonna be easy, like I said, you need money, then there’s a years long waiting list, and an extensive vetting process."

"We’ll have to do a hack, plant false identities," Xander looked towards Tara. "Tara, looks like you’re up."

"I can make paperwork, passports, driving licences that sort of thing," Kruger offered. "Only I haven’t the equipment."

Xander grinned. "Chances are, I have. What do you need?" The man began making a list then gaped as Xander started pulling the items out on it. "Always Pocket," Xander explained. "Question is who’s going?"

"Me and you, natch," Faith replied. "We’re the two best brawlers."

"I have to go too," Tara said. "Bathory’s a magician, I need to be there."

"I’ll go," Kruger said. "As a peace officer, I have an eye for things being out of place."

"I’ll have to stay behind run everything," Whistler said before looking at Kennedy. "Kid, you’re my back-up." Kennedy huffed but nodded.

"So four identities then," Kruger said. "Two separate couples."

"No," Whistler shook his head. "Just two, these kids have enough false identities, you only need to create two identities for the two Bunos Elvezet members, the other two can be guests from their various identities."

"Three," Kruger disagreed. "Whichever of the girls comes in with me, comes as my daughter."

"Kinky," Faith muttered with a grin.

"It makes sense though," Xander agreed.

"Okay," Kruger started typing at his laptop. "You’re Sonny Burgess, a brattish trust fund kid who’s the black sheep of his family, a wild partier who’s been involved in a succession of covered up criminal incidents and wastes his inheritance on debauchery and a procession of fast women."

"It’s like he’s read your life story, Xan," Faith snorted.

"You’re my current fast woman," Xander shot back.

"You’re filling me with confidence." Kruger sighed and shook his head before continuing. "I’m Hans Stadt, a German whose recently retired from a career ‘facilitating’ for various governments, gangs, and rebel groups in Africa. Tara is my daughter, Eva Stadt, we’re recently reconciled, she’s been living in Graz, Austria with her mother until my retirement."

Xander glanced at his watch. It was two in the morning now. "Look," he stretched, "I know we’re all worried about Blade, but we can’t do anything now. We’ll all turn in now, get up at eight, research this club some more, Kruger can get his stuff together, Tara can do her hacks, and we can plan some more. We go at ten tomorrow night."

"You ready stud?"

"Whoa," Xander gulped as his girl-friend strode in wearing a strapless black mini that started only just south of her ass and ended at mid-breast. "How do you breath in that?"

"Like a goldfish," Faith smirked. "I gulp one in every few seconds. Tar and Dillon are waiting."

"Dill-, oh the Marshal, got it," Xander nodded. "Come on then."

Xander followed Faith out of their room to find Kruger and Tara waiting, the thick-set Marshal dressed in a tuxedo the match of his own while Tara was dressed in a full-length cocktail dress. "Ah, Tara went classy," Kennedy hurried in from the other room with Whistler, "while Faith went the usual route."

"Hey!" Faith pointed at the brunette lesbian. "She’s dissin’ me, Xan! Attack!"

"Woof, woof," Xander looked towards Whistler. "Everything ready?"

Faith pouted and crossed her arms. "No treat for you later."

"Yeah," Whistler’s face was haggard with worry, "me and Ken will be outside of the club in a van, but we won’t be able to do anything else to help."

"You can still tell us if Blade has been moved," Xander pointed out.

"What cars did you manage to get us?"

Kennedy scowled at Tara’s query. "I got you a Dodge Viper and for Mr. Stadt I managed to get hold of BMW E65." Kennedy sniffed. "Had to pay over the odds to get them at such short notice."

"Well they’re perfect choices," Kruger soothed. "Something brash for the spoilt trust fund brat and something stately for the German trying to throw off his seedy past. They fit us like gloves."

"And you’re in a battered second-hand van, Kennedy," Faith beamed. "Go figure."

Kennedy glared at Faith. "Bitch."

"Midget."

"Before you two break out into fighting," Xander sighed long-sufferingly, "which as I keep telling the both of you is wasted without the baby oil," he added before sobering, "we have a mission. Come on."

* * *

"Holy shit," Faith pursed her full lips together and whistled as they pulled into the long drive leading up to the walled estate, "that ain’t no usual night club."

"No kidding," Xander agreed with a nod as he stared at the looming four storey mansion, the lights from it gleaming through the night like a dozen lighthouses as Xander pulled up to a stop at the estate’s front gate.

"Sir," the security guard stuck his face into the car, so professional he didn’t even look at the stone-cold fox sat beside Xander, "your name please."

Xander smirked at the man, careful to give him the ‘I’m somebody but you’re not’ stare that he remembered from the Cordettes before replying. "Sonny Burgess," he carelessly dropped the well-stamped and creased passport that Kruger had made up this morning into the guard’s hand, "there’s my passport. I joined eighteen months ago, never been before though."

"Ah yes," the man nodded as he glanced from the passport and to the electronic notebook in his other hand, "I have you here sir." The man passed the passport back through the window. "Have a good night at Bunos Elvezet."

"I’m sure I will," Xander replied before slamming on the accelerator and speeding away.

"Whoa, way to give ‘tude, Xan," Faith muttered.

"I’m a method actor," Xander replied as he scanned the vast car lot filled with Bentleys, Rolls Royces, Mercedeses, BMWs, Lamborghinis, Aston Martins, Maseratis, Porsches, and other more exotic makes, not a car under $ 50,000 in the entire lot. "Plus you remember my first girl-friend right?"

"Your right hand?" Faith elbowed him in his ribs and snorted. "Oh right, Queen C."

Xander shot his girl-friend a glare as he pulled up in front of the mansion, a smartly-uniformed valet running up to open his car’s door. "Make sure you park me somewhere close, I don’t want to have to wait to get out," Xander imperiously ordered as he tossed the car keys to the man, "come on Patricia. This club is expensive, I don’t want to have to wait for your lazy ass."

"Sure honey!" Faith trilled before leaning into him as they made their way up the dozen stone steps leading up to the mansion’s guard flanked doors. "This method acting is gettin’ out of hand, buster."

"Duly noted," Xander winked at his glaring girl-friend.

"Run me through the plan again," Faith muttered as they passed by the guards after stepping through a metal detector and having their identities checked again.

"Whistler says the signal comes from underneath and the rear of the building, where the private rooms for hire are," Xander explained. "As a Platinum member, I have priority for them. We meet up with ‘Stadt’, agree to do a partner-swap-."

"Ummm," Faith licked her lips seductively. "I like Tara," Faith murmured, "not sure about yours."

Xander ignored the unsettling images conjured by his girl-friend’s words. "We get one of the maitre'ds to take us back, knock him out, find the basement entrance, get Blade and get out. Fortunately security’s focussed on keeping people out and not keeping us in, plus discretion is a big thing, so although there’s plenty of human security, there’s no cameras actually inside."

"And people aren’t gonna notice a battered Wesley Snipes lookalike?" Faith queried. "How we gonna get him out?"

"Haven’t worked that out…." Xander’s voice trailed off as they exited the lobby with its pair of golden fountains spurting what looked to be champagne, and entered the mansion proper.

Faith gulped, stopped, and for once blushed. "’Kay, I withdraw the question. Gettin’ Blade outta here is gonna be no problem at all."

"Yeah," Xander dazedly nodded. "Nobody’s going to notice a thing."

A/N: Not remotely work safe.

Classical music played in the background, loud enough to be heard, but not loud enough to be disrupt the atmosphere of complete debauchery. Faith’s eyes were everywhere as she struggled to take the insanity in. She’d seen some screwed up stuff in her time, had even experienced some back in Boston, but nothing came even close to this.

The waiters and waitresses were clearly identifiable as they moved through the busy, white-walled chamber, ducking in and out of the leather-upholstered couches and wooden tables, by their silver trays filled with either drinks, food, or a selection of drugs. Oh and by the fact they were completely and utterly naked.

One such waitress was bent over a couch being laughingly spanked by a man at least twice her age. Eyes narrowing, Faith started over to help her, then stopped as the proverbial cent dropped.

Another waitress was bent over another couch, but this one wasn’t getting spanked, instead guys and women in evening wear were lining up to snort crack off her bare ass. On another couch a waiter was between two men old enough to be his grandfathers doing things that no grandson should ever do. Another waitress and waiter were ‘performing together’ with a laughing half-dressed brunette as the woman’s date for the evening watched, eyes glued to the salacious show before him. On still another couch, another waitress was on all fours, her face in a woman’s crotch and a man knelt up behind her. Other stuff going on was either pretty tame or in some cases just too fucked up to understand, like the nude brunette on her hands and knees on the floor, acting as a stool for a woman twice her size. Around the perimeter of the room moved a number of suited men, some obvious security guys to judge from their businesslike demeanour and cold, dispassionate eyes, the others something else entirely.

"Holy shit," Faith gasped. "This is one whacked out place." When she didn’t get an answer, she glanced towards Xander. Seeing his eyes fixed on an obviously enhanced brunette bouncing up and down on a trampoline while a crowd of laughing rich folks threw drinks at the performing girl, the booze sloshing on her, she slapped the back of his head. "Eyes front, mister."

"Yeah," Xander shook his head. "This place is-."

"Yeah," Faith was definitely comin’ back tomorrow and taking a rocket launcher to this shithole, people shouldn’t be used like this. "You said we need to find a maitre’d," Faith shook her head. "Why the hell do they need private rooms when they let shit like this go on in full view?"

"Some people don’t like to conduct their business in public or have special desires," Xander shrugged, her boy-friend’s cheeks crimsoning. "And we don’t need to find a maitre’d yet," Xander corrected. "First we have to fashion a meeting with the-."

"I’ll give you five thousand for her."

Faith’s eyes narrowed as a chubby, oily-skinned man with golden fillings staggered out of the partying thong, his flesh flushed from too much booze. Xander’s eyes narrowed. "Not interested."

"Ah come on!" the man laughed. "I want to make a connection. Ten thousand, nothing too kinky."

"Walk away now," Xander warned as Faith bristled beside her man. Who the fuck did this prick think she was?

The man leered at her, or more precisely at her chest. "Playing hard to get, I’ll give you twenty and pay for you to have any waitress in here-."

Xander grabbed the front of the man’s very expensive jacket and pulled him towards him. "It’ll take more than twenty thousand dollars for you to put right the damage I do to you if you don’t fuck off right now," he hissed in an icy tone. "Are we making a connection now?" The man nodded, eyes bulging. "Good," Xander released his grip, "I think it’s time you left, bye."

"Ah, defending my honour," Faith grabbed Xander’s arm and squeezed as the creep hurried out, heart lightening at her boyfriend’s defence of her, "you’re gonna get yourself a special treat." Faith sighed as she noticed where Xander’s gaze had drifted back to, "stop staring at trampoline girl’s tits."

"I can’t," Xander mournfully replied. "It’s like they’re magnetic."

"Come on stud," Faith shook her head. "I see sis."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later and they’d fashioned an ‘accidental’ meeting with Kruger and Tar, and were heading towards one of the suited men stood on the party’s outskirts, a skinny, slick-haired man with sharp features and darting eyes. "Hey bud," Xander shoved a hundred dollar bill into the man’s front pocket. "We need some privacy, our girls are interested in a little partner swap if you know what I mean?" Xander slapped Kruger on the back. "That’s right ain’t it?"

"Indeed, your young lady is quite delightful," rumbled the US. Marshal.

"And yours," Xander winked at Tara, "I like the shrinking violet type."

"Yes of course," the maitre’d nodded before glancing at Xander. "Sir, I realise from our records you’ve been a member but never actually come here, but we don’t allow members to attack others, if you’d actually hit that gentleman earlier, we’d have had to eject you. In the future, sir, please allow us to deal with any problems."

Xander nodded. "I gotcha," he replied as he stuffed a couple more hundreds down the man’s front pocket. "Now that room?"

"Of course sir, gentlemen, ladies, if you’ll follow me." The man pulled out an electronic notepad and began tapping at it as he led them down a cream-coloured corridor, various moans, yelp, and groans coming out of the rooms lining it. "You’re a Platinum Card member, so you’re of course entitled to our most discreet rooms at the back. Have you any special requests?"

"Requests?" Tara said, the witch shooting nervous looks around.

"Would you like a member of staff to join your party, do you want food, drink, or drugs, do you want to record the evening, costumes for the young ladies or yourselves, or any BDSM equipment," the man replied. "Anything you desire, we’ll do our best to accommodate."

"I bet," Xander grunted, his disgust growing. "We’re fine, just the room."

"As you wish, sir." The man stopped and turned, using a keycard to unlock a room, and swinging a door open to reveal a huge, king-sized bed with silk sheets and a mirror ceiling gleaming over it, "the room’s ipod comes equipped with four thousand songs split into twenty playlists by genre and is hooked up to a sound system. Accept the two bottles of champagne with our compliments," the man pointed to an ice bucket by the bed.

"Most luxurious," Xander replied. "Oh I changed my mind, we do want something."

"Yes sir?" the man turned to him and smiled. "How can we help you?"

Xander’s fist swung out and cracked against the man’s jaw, spinning him around and pitching him to the ground. "You can shut the hell up, you pimp."

Kruger caught the man as he crumpled and threw him onto the bed; meanwhile Xander reached into the Always Pocket, pulled out his cell and phoned Whistler. "Talk to me, where’s the closet?"

It was Kennedy rather than Whistler who replied with a snort. "You joining Faith in it, Xander?"

"Ha, ha." Xander pulled out a couple of pairs of cuffs and threw them to Kruger. "Cuff and gag him."

"Cuffs? What is going on there? I miss all the good parties!" Kennedy chuckled before turning serious. "According to the tracking chip in your cell, you’re in the right corridor, just come out of the room you’re in and head to your left, all the way down to the end of the corridor."

"Tell me again why Whistler thinks this is the entrance," Xander instructed as he walked out, the others following behind.

"To be honest, he kinda thinks there’s two entrances, one here, and one somewhere else in the city, they keep a base here because the house is hidden by corruption and guarded by humans, making it a perfect place for an underground base. They only have an entrance here for emergencies, wouldn’t do for vampires and Jhes to start running about Hungary’s most exclusive nightclub." Kennedy paused. "What’s the club like?"

"Tara will tell you later." Xander grimaced. "Anyway, you didn’t explain why Whistler thinks this is the secret passage."

"False bottom."

"Excuse me?" Xander queried.

"Well two things. The two major janitorial rooms are in other wings of the building, far away from this one. This space is marked as a janitorial room, but there’s no way it can contain a quarter of the stuff the other two do, it’s too small." Xander groaned. "I know, I know. But there’s something else, too, he thinks the rear wall is thicker than it should be."

"So?" Xander queried.

"So, there’s a possibility there might be a secret passageway there," Kennedy replied.

"Here’s a question," Faith drawled, "what if the passageway’s only openable on the inside." Xander looked towards his girl-friend who shrugged. "Whistler said this passageway was only meant as an emergency exit, maybe it’s only usable one way?"

"No," Tara shook her head. "There has to be a way into it from our side, they had to have built in a redundancy."

"And if it isn’t?" Faith pressed.

"We’ll have you run head first into it, the wall’s probably thin and we know your head’s hard," Xander smirked.

"Asshole," Faith grunted as they stopped at a door at the end of the corridor. Faith tried the door handle. "Locked."

"Okay," Xander glanced around as he pulled out an automatic and fixed a silencer to it, eyes busily looking around, checking no-one came out of the rooms back and to his left and right. He nodded approvingly as first Faith and then Kruger took up posts by the left and right side of the door, then returned his gaze to the door and put a bullet either side of the door, the gun bucking slightly in his hand. Stepping back to the door, he jiggled the handle from side to side until the handle snapped away and the door swung open. Xander took a breath as he leaned in and turned the room’s light on.

Inside was an average-looking room filled with your usual janitor equipment of tools, buckets, and mops stacked on the left and right sides, a trio of empty shelves on the wall opposite the door. "Reminiscing ‘bout school yet, Xan?"

"School?" Kruger rumbled, his expression puzzled.

"Oh yeah," Xander groaned inwardly at Faith’s jauntily conversational tone. "My boy here spent most of his sophomore year in closets all through his school makin’ time with the local princess." Faith chuckled. "And you think I give ya a hard time, can’t be any worse than Queen C did."

"Are you sure about that?" Xander flushed at his girl-friend’s dirty laugh and forced himself to concentrate on looking around the cluttered closet, looking for anything that didn’t fit. "Just give me a second," Xander rubbed at his forehead, frankly flummoxed, "I’ll work it -." Then Tara stepped past him, peered at the back wall and tugged at the bottom shelf’s dusty iron hinges. Xander’s eyes widened as the shelves swung up until they pressed up against the wall, the iron hinges folding inward and onto the wood, then the wall slid back about six inches and then slid up, revealing a set of stone steps leading down.

"Whoa," Faith gasped, as usual managing to speak before anyone else, "how did you know, sis?"

Tara flushed at all the attention. "B..because it was an enclosed space I…I was able to cast a truth spell, it led me to the wall."

"I knew walls had eyes, now they tell lies too?" Faith shook her head. "Wicked cool, sis."

"Okay," Xander threw his girl-friend her bandolier of stakes as well as her favourite short sword and a Beretta, then Kruger a Mossberg 590 and back-up Magnum, "they’re both loaded with incendiary ammunition, get a vampire in the head with them and they’re dust, anywhere else, and they’ll be hurt enough for you to finish them with another shot," Xander passed the Hungarian-American a K-Bar, "takes their heads right off." Xander looked towards Tara.

"I’m fine," the witch replied with a shake of the head.

"Okay," Xander repeated as he threw his jacket into the Always Pocket and pulled on a pair of shoulder-holsters filled with Desert Eagles and grabbed a Mossberg before noticing the US. Marshal staring at his automatics. "What?"

"The kickback on those is formidable, correct?" Kruger queried.

"Yeah, but anything they hit stays down," Xander replied then shrugged. "Anything human anyway." Xander looked around. "Okay, our priority is simply this, find Blade," Xander passed Faith a Mossberg and a katana, "that’s for him if you find him, grab him and get out the way we got in. Don’t engage the vampires."

"What if they engage us?" Faith queried.

"Then," Xander scowled, "we go to war."

Hans and Fritz had been vampires for a long time, 1944 in fact when a group of Hungarian vampires had chowed down on their patrol, slaughtering all of their comrades but for some reason leaving them alive, well technically undead. In that time they’d seen and experienced a lot.

Hans glanced at his beetle-browed companion, dropping his cards on the table between them. "I heard something didn’t I?" His companion looked to the left. "No," Hans glanced in the opposite direction, towards the corner, "from the right."

"But that’s," Fritz’s lantern-jaw dropped, "that’s the club entrance."

"I know," Hans shoved back his chair back. In sixty years of shifts guarding this entrance, no-one had ever come down it. Were they being tested to make sure they stayed alert? Or worse, were they actually being invaded by the polizei?

Telling himself whoever it was, it would be better to go and investigate, rather than simply retreat to Bathory and risk being the next of history’s long list of slain messengers, he rose and looked towards Fritz. "Come on."

Hans was sure as he crept to the corner that if his undead heart had been able to beat, it would have been thundering out of his ribcage by the time they reached the corner. "Verdammt!" he let out a shocked curse when he turned the corner to find a dark-haired hure in a skimpy dress leaning against the wall as she hawked and spat as if trying to vomit.

"The club," the obvious yankee luder turned and looked towards him, her rich mane falling over her face, "my boy-friend shoved me in this closet and locked me in it, then I come around and find myself here. Where the hell am I?"

Stupid luder had obviously somehow stumbled into the secret passageway leading down here. Hans reached for the girl’s hair, intending to snap her neck and then go check on the secret entrance, but she stumbled backwards out of his grip’s reach, falling drunkenly against the wall. Then the girl pointed at him. "Take me back!" she screamed. "I wanna see that rat-bastard! I’ll rip his balls off for shoving me down here!"

Fritz tugged at his arm, his friend’s gap-toothed grin meeting him when he turned to face him. "Don’t just kill her, we could have a little fun." his friend suggested in their native tongue. "Why waste the warm body?"

"Yeah," Hans turned back to the girl, his mouth drying with anticipation.

His head snapped to the side, stars erupting in front of his eyes as something crashed into his jaw with a baseball bat’s force, knocking him into the wall opposite the girl. His sight was still clearing when he saw Fritz explode into dust, the suddenly sober girl slicing a K-Bar across his friend’s neck.

"Hure!" He lunged at the girl only for her earlier awkward clumsiness to be replaced by an other-worldly silky grace that had her sidestepping his charge, ducking his quickly attempted elbow, and shredding his left hamstring apart with a downward, backhanded slash. "Ahh!" Pain blazed through the ruined limb as it buckled under him, sending him crashing to his knees. He barely had chance to look up before the knife sliced into his throat.

* * *

"We could have questioned him."

"Jeez," Faith shook her head as Xander and the others hurried around the corner towards her, "you wanted them outta the way, they’re outta the way. Here’s the deal, next time you wanna decoy, you do it."

"I doubt he would look as good in that dress," rumbled Kruger.

"Yeah," Faith nodded and winked at the Marshal, "he ain’t got the tits and ass for it. Speakin’ of which," Faith looked towards Xander, "I wanna some jeans and a T-shirt to change into." Faith nodded as she took the stuff off Xander then raised an eyebrow when no-body moved. "What am I? A skin-show? You get around that corner so I can change!"

"Um sorry," Xander flushed as he looked towards the others. "Come on."

"And now she gets modest!" Tara muttered.

"Your way of running an operation is very strange," commented Kruger as they passed around the corner.

"Yeah," Faith heard Xander’s whisper, "we get that a lot. Can’t argue with results though."

Faith shook her head as she hurriedly changed, then joined the others. "Where now?" she hissed, trepidation filling her voice.

"Just spoken to Whistler," Xander replied, his expression troubled. "We’re in Blade’s general vicinity, but we can’t any more of a specific reading on Blade’s position."

"Meaning?" Faith pressed as a terrible foreboding filled her.

"Meaning we have to find him ourselves," Tara supplied.

Faith sighed. "Yeah, that’s what I figured."

* * *

Five minutes later and they were confronted by a T-junction. "Shit," Faith looked towards Xander. "Kruger with me goin’ left?"

"Okay," Xander nodded. "You’ve got a mouthpiece, call if you hit trouble. And take these," Xander passed her a pair of shoulder-holstered Desert Eagles, "for Blade in case you find him first."

"Yeah, and I’ll want you to sweep in and save my helpless ass," Faith snarked before noddin’.

"See you," Xander smiled at her briefly before disappearing up the right junction.

Faith glanced towards Kruger. "Come on."

"You’re used to giving orders I see," rumbled the Marshal as he followed behind her.

"Someone has to, otherwise we’d never get anythin’ done," Faith shrugged. "Hard life, but someone’s gotta organise and what’s the word, delegate and shit."

"Ah," the man-mountain looked at her and nodded, "I quite understand."

"I’m just glad all the responsibility ain’t givin’ me wrinkles."

* * *

"Two men," Kruger reported.

"Two vamps," Faith corrected as she peered around the corner to where the two vampires were sat playing cards. It was forty-five feet away, a decent way, but she could manage it with her Beretta. "I’ll go wide around the corner, you stick to the wall. I’ll take the one to my left, you take the one to right, ‘kay?" Kruger nodded. "Three, two one, go!"

The demons lunged up as they came around the corner, spinning around to face with their inhuman speed, but Faith’s gun was already swinging up and aiming. Faith pulled the trigger twice, both bullets crashing into the vampire’s head, spinning him around as he dusted, the sound of her shots deafened by Kruger’s Mossberg boom.

"Damn it," Faith hurried to the door they’d been guarding, "someone is bound to have heard that."

"We could have gone close-quarters with them," Kruger commented as he shadowed her.

"Not with a rookie in tow," Faith snapped.

"Rook-."

"Shut up," Faith growled as she raised her foot to kick the door in. "Let’s see what’s behind here."

The door looked formidable, but crashed open after a second kick at the handle, Kruger shining his torch inside. "Shit!" Faith growled beside him, the beautiful brunette striding in and towards the well-built black man his torch had illuminated shackled against the far wall. Blood trickled from the man’s nose, the left side of his jaw and his eyes were swollen and glassy, but otherwise he appeared uninjured.

"If you attempt to shoot through those shackles, shrapnel might strike either you or him," Kruger cautioned.

"That’s good," Kruger’s eyes widened as the Bostonian snatched hold of the man’s right arm shackle and yanked it apart as if it was frayed string, "but who said anything about using guns?" Faith shook her head. "No wonder foreigners talk ‘bout us yanks and our gun culture, Jeez!"

"Yes," Kruger glanced out of the cell before looking back in, his head shaking. His world had gotten a lot more complicated since meeting this crazy Slayer and her friends. "Perhaps we can hurry this along?"

Faith glanced over her shoulder with eyebrow raised. "Sorry, you wanna help out by snappin’ a couple of these chains in your bare hands?" Faith snorted at his look, shaking her head as she returned to pulling on the chains. "Thought not." The Slayer crouched by the vampire hunter’s right ankle. "Hey Blade, you realise when I fantasised ‘bout gettin’ you in chains, I actually had the freakin’ key?"

"Sorry about the inconvenience," Blade rasped.

"Seein’ as I’m the easy-goin’ type you’re forgiven," the brunette replied as the last chain clinked open. "Let’s get out -.

"Too late," Kruger ducked his head back in, "a whole ton of those Jhe demons heading towards us."

"Ah hell," Faith turned her mouth-piece on. "Xan, we’ve found Blade, but we’ve also got trouble!"

* * *

"Sorry Faith," Xander kicked a table and ducked under it, his Mossberg bucking in his hands as he obliterated the first two vampires attempting to swarm over his make-shift barricade. "We’ve got problems of our own!"

* * *

"Men," Faith snarled as she shoved the shotgun into Blade’s hands, "they always let you down!"

"Faith, I’m being shot at!" protested Xander.

"Always with the excuses!" Faith snarked before sobering, "we’ll meet you back at the closet, ‘kay lover?"

"Deal," Xander snapped.

"Cool," Faith strode over to the doorway to see Kruger and Blade blasting the Jhe demons with their Mossbergs.

"Aren’t you going to help?" Kruger shot her a look between blasts to the advancing Jhe.

"Nah," Faith lifted her Beretta, "unless they’re in close, this is like bee stings to those ugly bitches. I’ll wait ‘til you run outta ammo to do my thing."

Kruger shrugged before returning to blast the avalanche of Jhes charging towards them, blood and gore decorating the corridor’s floor and walls, and the stench of gunsmoke and blood thick in the air. Then the two men’s shotguns clicked empty and Faith glanced to Blade. "Up for some hand to hand, big guy?"

The dhampir nodded. "Wicked," Faith glanced at Kruger as she pulled her sword out of her back scabbard. "If any get pass us, blow their faces off with that Magnum." Then she was launching herself forward to take on the last of the Jhe demons.

* * *

Xander grunted as his guns fell empty, the dust of over half a dozen vampires scattered across the corridor’s floor, his ears ringing from the shooting. His eyes widened as one of the remaining vampires chose that exact second to scramble over his barricade and leap at him.

Xander’s left fist uppercutted into the vampire’s jaw, snapping its head back and to the side while his right hand slammed a stake home, the demon’s blazing yellow eyes widening in surprise in the half-second before it exploded into dust. Seeing another vampire lunging at him from his left, he twisted at the waist to face it in time to see Tara rising up behind the demon and swinging a stake into its back.

Xander nodded his thanks as he spun to face the front in time to block a female vampire’s attempted haymaker on his left forearm, the impact reverberating down his arm as he ungentlemanly drove a knee up into the woman’s crotch. The vampire hissed, her fangs flickering as she stumbled backwards, unable to prevent an instinctive doubling-up that left her open to a stake to through the back. Xander felt the energy slump out of him as he realised the last of the vampires was finally dead, turning his earpiece on, he opened his mouth to speak to Faith.

"Owww!" Xander gasped as Tara suddenly lunged at him, the wicca crashing shoulder-first into him with a skill that would have made a linebacker proud. Xander grunted as he left his feet, crashing shoulder-first to the floor, his eyes widening as something glimmered in the air above them, seeming to suck the oxygen out of it. "What the hell?"

"It’s Bathory," Tara’s face was ghost-white as she peered down at him, "she’s here."

"Okay," Xander licked his lips as he opened his Always Pocket. "What do I need to deal with her?"

"You don’t," Tara stood and peered down the corridor, "this is my problem."

Xander opened his mouth to argue, then stopped as he noticed the set look on the normally meek wicca’s face then looked down the corridor in time to see a tall, curvy woman with green eyes and flowing red hair advancing towards them, her severe features filled with hatred and gulped. "Okay then, I’ll be over here. Lying on the floor."

This was definitely one fight he wanted as little to do with as possible.

The remaining demons seemed to almost slow as she burst towards them, her hair billowing as she ducked beneath a swinging haymaker from the lead Jhe, her heel smashing into the demon’s knee, knocking it back a step. Out of the corner of her eye, Faith noted Blade fighting the rest of the demons, and decided she’d have to keep an eye on the normally competent vampire hunter.

"Shit!" Faith cursed as her inattention cost her a backhand to the mouth, blood showering out of her bottom lip as she stumbled away from the Jhe’s follow-up straight right. Blood dripping onto her chin, she glared up at the demon while sidestepping another’s charge at her, swordarm swinging up to block a down-ward swinging fist.

Ignoring the pain shooting through her arm, she glided into a roundhouse kick, the back of her heel colliding with the side of her assailant’s face, bone shattering and the bitch’s jaw dropping open under the clubbing impact. Faith’s eyes widened when despite her attack, the demon charged in and scooped her up into a bear-hug.

"Really?" Faith gasped as she thrust her sword into the monster’s throat, red gushing out to soak her. "Did you think this was just decoration?"

The monster let out a roar and flung her from it, then collapsed, its blood soaking the ground under it. Faith spun in mid-air to hit the wall feet first, springboard off it, and land behind another demon charging Blade from behind, her bloodied blade slicing through the demon’s hamstrings, the Jhe falling to the ground as Faith slid into a side-heel kick to the belly of another demon charging her from the right. Her blade arced down at the back of the demon’s neck, then pain coursed through her arm when another demon grabbed her wrist, crushing fingers digging deep. "Shit!" Faith twisted at the waist, driving a knee into the side of the doubled-up demon’s head, knocking it to the ground while simultaneously yanking her arm back and free of the demon’s grasp. At least that was the theory, but the moment her arm was free of the demon’s grasp, its meaty fist thundering into her forehead, knocking her wobbly-legged as blind instinct caused her to jump out of the range of the demon’s follow-up.

BOOM! BOOM!

Faith dropped into a crouch at the sudden explosion, eyes widening as a crater-sized hole appeared in her attacker’s head, the demon falling to the floor, its body convulsing in its death-throes. Seeing the demon she kneed in the head rising, Faith sprang towards it, her sword slashing up and through its neck. Seeing that Blade finishing off the last of his opponents, Faith turned towards Kruger and nodded. "Thanks for the assist, even if you damn near deafened me."

"My pleasure," Kruger’s eyes widened as she leapt to Blade’s side, the vampire hunter suddenly greying and slumping against the corridor’s wall. "Is he-."

"Normally he can take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’, but he’s already taken a pounding," Faith said as she pulled Blade’s right arm over her shoulder, "give me a hand willya?"

"Of course," Kruger hurried forward and hooked Blade’s left arm over his shoulder, "perhaps we should get out of here before any more demons come."

"Yeah," Faith spoke into her mouthpiece, "Xan, we ran into some trouble but we’re extracting now." Her brow furrowed and stomach hollowed when the only answer she got was static. "Xan?"

* * *

Bathory forced a poker face as she turned the corner and found herself face to face with the wicca. Outwardly she was a meek looking thing, but the air around her seemed to positively hum with magic, crackle with it almost. She’d heard reports of this Wicca’s power, but to see it first hand…. Bathory mentally shook her head. No, this witch might have the edge in power, but she was the ‘Blood Countess’, the ‘Bloody Lady Of Cachitce’, a vampire sorceress with centuries of bloody experience and all the hard-learnt tricks that that foul experience entailed. She’d wanted to drink from the chalice of her broken body, to experience her blood’s richness first hand, but she was too powerful for that, no she’d have to kill her, straight out.

Her teeth elongated and eyes flashed as she diverted her gaze to the man crouched by the young woman’s side. He would be the Mithras-descendant, the terror that had the whole demon world cowering. His blood would suffice.

Bathory came to a halt some twenty feet away from the pair, her eyes returning to the wicca. But now for her….

* * *

Tara swallowed as the demon’s golden gaze fell on her, her eyes were filled with such unimaginable evil, such implacable hatred, it was hard to look away. Realising the vampire was attempting to hypnotise her, she snapped her gaze away. Using the techniques the Sorcerer Supreme had taught her, she relaxed and centred herself before speaking. "You really should have run," she smiled. "It wouldn’t have helped, but chasing you down would have burnt a few calories."

"You’ll be a lot lighter once I’ve had my liquid diet," hissed the legendary vampiress.

"I doubt that’s going to happen soon," Tara evenly replied as the power built up inside her, readying her for the vampire’s-.

Dark energy surged from the demon, cascading from her, and rushing towards Tara. Tara gasped as her hands shot up and she sent her own energy up to meet it, the two powers clashing in the empty area between them, colliding with the force of a juggernaut hitting a train. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Xander’s lips move, but heard nothing but a crashing like a tidal wave sweeping over her as her muscles cramped with the effort of outputting and controlling the power she was sending out.

Sweat poured down her, but she continued on, pouring on the energy as the vampire opposite her gasped and writhed. Then, just as she readied herself to pile on yet more power, the witch righted herself, smiled, and sent yet another wave of energy speeding towards her.

Tara gritted her teeth, head swimming, as she forced herself to hold on, her shields creaking but holding against the renewed attack. Vomit rose in her throat and her head throbbed as her vision began to blur, she wanted to pass out, to rest.

Except the man beside her, her friend, legendary warrior that he was, wouldn’t last a minute against a vampire with Bathory’s age, strength, and magical power.

Tara swayed, then righted herself, jaw clenching. "Not today, not ever," she whispered as the blood running through her began to boil with the effort. She moaned as she felt her shield crack, sensed the vampire’s power slice through the shield’s hole.

And grabbed a hold of the power, preventing it from touching her as she sent her own blast surging back up the tendril and into the vampire, Bathory’s eyes widening as she spun like a top then burst into dust.

"Whoa," Xander looked at her, "that was impressive, I didn’t actually see anything but it well looked impressive. TARA!"

Xander lunged forward, catching the witch as she dropped to the ground in a dead faint. Even as he worriedly placed his ear over her mouth to check she was still breathing, a voice drawled. "You and sis playin’ Rhett and Scarlett now?"

"You’ve watched ‘Gone With The Wind’?" Xander looked up and at Faith, noting the African-American vampire hunter draped over her and Kruger’s shoulders.

Faith smirked wryly. "My big sis is a complete sap, if I wanna spend time with her, it’s either shopping or -."

"Do makeovers? Talk about boys?" Xander guessed. "Exchange beauty tips?"

"Watch mushy movies." Faith’s smirk turned to a glare. "What happened anyhow?"

"Bathory turned up and went one on one with Tara and lost-."

"Naturally," Faith smirked, "Sis kicks ass." Faith’s eyes narrowed. "Is she okay?"

"Just fainted," Xander looked towards her, "you carry her out, I’ll help Blade."

The black shook his head as he stepped towards him. "I’m okay," the black growled, "I just -."

"Had an attack of the vapours." Faith snorted.

"I know how he feels," Xander snarked. "I felt the same when you revealed you watch mushy movies."

Blade glared at Faith as he stepped away from her. "I went dizzy from the beating I got off the vampires." Blade started towards the exit. "I don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary."

"Okay," Xander passed Kruger and Blade loaded shotguns, taking one for himself, "form a triangle around Faith," he ordered as he passed the unconscious witch over to his girl-friend. "Getting out of here might be complicated." Xander glanced towards Blade. "Did anyone say why they didn’t just kill you outright?"

"Our theory was correct," Blade grunted, "they needed my blood for a ritual, my blood specifically a person different from the norm, the first twelve killed were all humans, but the 13^th, the one who they needed to open the seal had to be something other than human."

"Open the seal?" Xander queried as he hurried up the steps leading back to the club’s closet.

"The seal to the prison holding The Nephilim," Blade gravely replied.

"The what?" queried Kruger a second before he could.

"Fallen angels," the vampire hunter explained. "Angels that rebelled against the rule of god and were imprisoned for eternity for their sins."

Faith whistled. "I’m bettin’ angels would have worked up quite a ‘tude after bein’ imprisoned for so long."

"Yeah," Xander agreed with a nod. "We’re just lucky we got rid of Bathory before she managed to finish the spell-," Xander sighed as he noted Blade’s furrowed brow. "What?"

"Bathory wasn’t working alone," Blade replied. "While she was beating me, she boasted about her plans and how pleased her master would be with her actions."

"Her master?" Xander queried.

"She didn’t elaborate," Blade grimaced and winced, "she was too busy with the beating and the taunting." Blade paused. "We should go back and find him."

"No," Xander decided with a shake of his head, "both Tara and yourself aren’t at 100%, the mystery man will have to wait." Blade’s mouth opened. "His plan has been derailed, we’ve got time." Xander looked towards Kruger. "And on that note, remember we’re taking your car."

"What about gettin’ out of here?" Faith queried as Tara laid limply in her arms. "It won’t be easy."

"Yeah, but we have one advantage, all their security is positioned to avoid someone getting in, not getting out. With luck it’ll take time for them to re-adjust." Xander pulled out his phone and quickly dialled Whistler as he led the others into the closet. "Hey, Kennedy, yeah we’ve got the package. Yeah, do it now."

"Do what now?" Faith impatiently demanded.

"Remember those big walls outside the mansion?" Xander queried. Faith nodded. "As of three seconds ago, some explosives blew great big craters in them." Xander looked around. "When we come out of the closet," Xander manfully ignored Faith’s snort, "keep tight around Faith, anyone gets in our way, take them down, but don’t shoot, only unload if you’re fired on first." Xander paused as he pulled out a small, remote control sized device. "I’ve got a little beauty from A-Team Industries, an EMP Deliverer."

"A what now?" Faith queried.

"It’ll turn off all electronics in the mansion-."

"But not our cars?" Kruger demanded.

"Nope," Xander shook his head, "it’s adjustable so I’ve set it for the dimensions of the house. At least I hope it is."

"You hope?" Faith queried. "Great, you hope."

"If the entire city’s plunged into darkness when we get outside, I’m gonna talk to Brill about producing clearer user manuals," Xander airly replied before sobering and kicking the door open, thumb pressing down on the remote’s button.

"Hey," Xander’s eyes widened as the mansion was plunged into darkness, eyes peering left and right. "What you know, it worked."

"Great," Faith growled, "let’s get outta here and see if there’s any lights left on in eastern europe."

Xander grimaced as he heard people screaming and shouting. "So little trust."

"Just call it experience, stud."

Xander sighed then brightened. Well at least she called him stud, some of her nicknames were really embarassing.

He tensed on his throne as the doors crashed open and a pair of his childes hurried in, their faces etched with a terror that was most unbecoming for two of his kind and kin to bear. "What’s happened?" he rasped, his throat tortured from a near-decapitation pre his turning many centuries ago.

The two childes exchanged looks. "The Blood Countess," one finally spoke, "she’s dead and Blade’s been rescued."

"What!" He threw his head back and let out an angry howl, all his plans crumbling like dust before his eyes. Before he knew it he was up and bearing down on the cringing pair. "Who did it?"

Both vampires blanched at his growl. "T…the Slayer a…and Mithras."

Mithras. There was a name that had caused his kind too many nightmares in the past few years, and now he’d thwarted his role in the apocalypse. He almost shivered with the realisation that those who’d employed him to release the Nephilim would not be happy with his failure.

Perhaps Mithras’ demise could appease them, but how to -.

His teeth glinted and eyes gleamed as he heard approaching police sirens overhead, a plan flickering into his head. "Come, we have work to do before the night is out."

* * *

"Hey," Faith let out a cry from the backseat, "Tar’s comin’ around!"

"Good," Xander let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding as they pulled to a halt outside the underground garage where Whistler had left the two BMWs he’d secured for their drive back to the hotel. "You guys get those cars out, I’ll torch the Merc and the van."

"I’ll help," Kruger rumbled, "I have experience of these sort of things, destroying traces of a person’s life."

"Sure," Xander nodded, "I’ll be glad of the help." The moment the others had gotten the BMWs out, Xander drove the Mercedes into the garage, Kruger following suit in the van. As Xander pulled out two cans of petrol, he passed one to the law officer. "I was wondering if you’d be interested in joining the Brotherhood."

"Eh," the peace officer’s eyes widened momentarily, brow furrowing, "the last couple of nights will take a while to adjust to. I’ll need to think about it."

Xander hid the sting of disappointment with a quick look away and then nodded, petrol reeking as he splashed it over the merc. "Sure. You know we’re staying, tomorrow night at say seven-thirty in the restaurant next to the hotel lobby."

"Sounds most agreeable," Kruger half-smiled. "If nothing else I’ll get a good meal out of it."

"Now that’s settled," Xander forced his own smile. "I’ll get Blade and Whistler to drop you back at your hotel. Thanks for your help tonight."

"I won’t say it was my pleasure," the man growled. "But I’m glad I could help."

* * *

"You’ve got all the figures, Tara?"

Faith raised her eyebrows as Xander asked the question for the seventh time in an hour. "Yes Xander," Faith sniggered inwardly at Tara’s gritted teeth. In her opinion, Xan was tuggin’ on the tiger’s tail by pestering sis with the same question again and again.

"Here are your teas."

Faith glanced up at the waitress giving Xan the eye as she passed out the teas, and cleared her throat meaningfully, chuckling slightly as the woman paled at her eyeballing then scurried off. Damn straight she was the alpha female. "I’ll have the smoked trout starer," Faith decided with a glance at the immaculately presented menu, "and then have their burger with cheese and fries." Faith’s brow furrowed as she struggled with the thorniest of problems, then finally came to a decision. "Twice. Oh, and I’m so havin’ a banana split."

"Can’t take the yank out of America?" the potential needled.

"Hey," Faith grinned at Kennedy, "I’m patriotic y’all." The restaurant was luxurious as hell, the whole place was illuminated by golden chandeliers hanging off the white-washed ceiling and reflecting off the wood-panelled floor, perfectly trimmed plants set between each of the eatery’s wooden posts set against both walls, and plush black leather seats for them to sit on. "What ya havin’ hon?"

Xander ignored her query in favour of glancing at his watch. "It’s twenty to."

"Ten minutes, Xan. Let’s not cancel dinner just yet, could be traffic, anything." Faith rolled her eyes at Tara sat opposite. Every time it came to pitching membership at a prospective recruit, Xan got all nervous, like he wasn’t worthy.

As if. It was Faith’s privately-held opinion that most if not all the damn world wasn’t worthy of her guy, but they kinda needed teams for whatever Xan had been Called for, so she kept her own counsel and just muttered soothing words when he got all antsy. ‘Sides if she told him what she really thought, his head would only get wicked swollen.

Anyhow, musin’ ‘bout Xander’s issues wasn’t gettin’ her belly filled. Faith glanced up from her menu. "What ya havin’ guys?"

"Mesclun greens and cherry tomato salad with parmesan shavings and raspberry vinaigrette." Tara slowly replied. "And then mushroom soup with grilled porcini, goat cheese and potato dumplings." The witch reddened. "I’ll have a banana split too."

Faith grinned, her sis got embarrassed\guilty about the weirdest things. "You party on the wild side, sis."

"He’s here," Xander let out a long breath.

Faith glanced at the suited man stood looming in the doorway. "Looks like it," she agreed.

* * *

Kruger nodded as he placed his fork down on his empty plate. "It sounds interesting," he agreed as he glanced around his companions. All four of the quartet were dressed smart but casual and fit in seamlessly with the relaxed atmosphere.

Except for the Slayer.

Quite apart from her striking beauty, there was something almost feral, no perhaps predatory was the better word. Anyone with eyes and experience could see she was a warrior born.

And that was the problem with this whole new world, it changed things. Whereas a few days ago he would have considered any of his three female companions as young women to protect, at least two of them completely surpassed him in raw power, while the third wasn’t a rookie trembling at the thought of her first battle. His old world had been dangerous, but it was also familiar, a world that he understood.

But then there were these young people. They might not need his protection, but they did need his help, people to fight in this army of theirs. Whatever they might think they did need experienced help, and protecting the world’s innocents would be preferable to his old world that frequently involved protecting former drug dealers, corrupt businessmen, and mob bosses.

Finally he nodded. "Okay, I’ll do it."

Xander grinned back at him. "Okay then, thanks-."

"Shit!" Faith’s shout had heads snapping towards them, but Faith only had eyes for the policemen massing in the doorway, the Slayer’s hand snatching at the table to tip it over. "Xan, weapons now! They’re vamps!"

Kruger looked towards the advancing policemen, mouth opening.

And then the Slayer leapt across the table and crashed into him at chest-level, bundling the pair of them to the wood-panelled floor. "Jesus!" Faith hollered at him as she shoved a Mossberg plucked out of the air into his hand. "Either ya got wax in your ears, or you need grow quicker reflexes!" The Slayer rolled off him and snatched her own shotgun off a crouched Xander. "This wooden table won’t hold them, Xan." Faith ducked as her point was emphasised by a shot tearing through the table’s rim, sending splinters flying.

"I know," Xander nodded before glancing to the counter to the left. "I’m going to throw a flash-bang at them, I want you to make for the counter and out-flank them. Tara, the moment the flashbang goes off, you and Kennedy grab as many people as you can, and head for the kitchen, okay? On three."

* * *

The moment Xander yelled ‘three’, Faith burst to her feet even as the world seemed to ignite with fire and her eardrums seemed to explode with sound. Ignoring the customers and staffs’ frightened screams she launched herself headfirst at and over the counter, and landed in a crouch. Seeing the two waiters cowering behind the counter, she nodded towards the door behind the counter. "OUT!"

The two men took the hint, shooting through the door like a couple of rabbits diving into their burrow. Faith peeked over the counter, then yanked her head back down when a machine-gun blast tore through the counter’s top, sending jagged shards flying towards her. "Shit!"

Heart pounding, Faith hugged the ground and crawled on her belly to the hole in the counter, the continuing shooting ringing in her ears, the sound of Xander and Kruger’s shotguns heavy barks clashing with the vampires’ high-pitched machine-gun gunfire to create an unholy orchestra. The moment she reached the door, Faith raised her gun and sighted, grimacing as she realised that from her angle she couldn’t make headshots, so she contented herself with aiming lower.

Blood exploded from the vampire’s legs as she kneecapped them, their screams ringing in her ears as they dropped.

Soon her ears were pounding from the shotgun’s roar and eyes and nostrils stinging from the cordite reeking through the room. "Aaaah!" Faith let out a surprised gasp as a hand snatched at her hair and yanked her up from the floor, another hand snatching her shotgun from her, even as she yanked it towards her attacker.

"Aaaah!" Faith grunted as her attacker swung the shotgun’s butt into her face, knocking her head to the side before flinging her over the counter’s far end.

"Uhhh," Faith grunted as she hit the wooden floor with enough force to splinter it and rolled up in a crouch in time to meet the vampire leaping over the counter and down at her, just managing to lean away from his downward swinging right.

Faith spun away from her attacker, conscious of the waves of demonic power coming off what looked to be a short, grey-haired man with craggy features and a scar down one cheek. Then his grey eyes flashed yellow and any doubt Faith might have had about his true nature fled as the demon charged her.

Faith grunted as she blocked a left hook on her right forearm, her own retaliatory hook passing over the demon’s head as he ducked beneath her assault and stepped into her, his knee driving hard into her gut. "Shit!" Faith wheezed as she twisted away from her assailant, lungs struggling for air as bile rose and burnt the back of her throat.

The vampire crashed shoulder-first into her as she straightened, knocking her over a table. Faith grunted as she hit the floor again, stars flaring before her eyes as the back of her head thumped against wood, slowing her down enough so that she didn’t have time to roll away before the table crashed down on top of her. "Son of a bitch!" Faith snatched at a carving knife and slashed at the vampire as it came at her.

The vampire jumped back, allowing her the half-second she needed to kip-up into a crouch, wary eyes fixed on the vampire. "You killed my childe," it snarled. "Now feel the wrath of de Rais!"

"Oh shit!" Her blood racing with adrenalin at her recognition of the notorious vampire’s name, Faith sidestepped the demon’s charge, her makeshift weapon backhand-slashing at the vampire’s throat as it lunged under her attack and at her. "Fuck!" Faith howled, pain slicing across the top of her chest as the monster’s claws tore through her dress.

Faith staggered backwards, the pain roaring through her head, face, and chest making it difficult for her to focus. And then she realised the demon was leaping at her again. Faith snarled as she feigned a back step then leapt to meet him.

They crashed together like a pair of lions fighting for leadership of their pride, de Rais snatching at her throat as she swung the knife up at his neck. Faith gasped as he caught her wrist, amusement flickering through her adversary’s eyes.

"Aaaaah!" An amusement she ended with a butt to the face, his nose shattering and head snapping back as they fell to the ground. Faith continued driving her head into the vampire’s face, her ears filling with the demon’s screams and the sound of his shattering bones, even as she tried to drag her knifearm free of her adversary’s grasp.

"Uuuh." Faith’s hips rose, pain coiling in her belly and engulfing her crotch, as the demon drove his knee up into her groin. "Jesus," she wheezed as she rolled off him, kicking at his legs as he jumped up, his face a mess of bone and blood.

"You little bitch!" De Rais let out an ugodly howl as he lunged at her only to stagger drunkenly as Faith flung a platter off a near-by table at his head.

"Jesus," Faith groaned as she grabbed a near-by knife and picked herself up in time to meet the charging vampire, her knife feinting at his throat. The moment his hands twitched up, she reversed direction, burying the knife deep into his thigh. The demon growled in pain, but caught her with another backhand that sent her falling on her side onto the table. The demon growled as he lunged at her, but Faith’s foot swung up, her heel slamming down onto the handle of the knife stuck in the vampire’s leg, jamming it still deeper.

"Ahhh!" the vampire stumbled backwards, giving Faith the chance to leap up, grab a chair and swing it into the side of the vampire’s head.

De Rais’ arm swung up to block the chair, but Faith had let it go and picked up a pair of knives, flinging them with Slayer’s fluid instinctiveness, the first catching the vampire high in his right shoulder, the second slicing across his upper right thigh. And then she was charging in, bobbing and weaving inside whatever defences the injured demon could manage, driving a knee into his crotch. The vampire grunted and doubled up into her waiting hands, a quick twist of the head later and his neck snapped like a twig, the demon dropping limply to the ground.

"Jesus." Faith dropped to her knees beside the vampire, chest pounding as exertion’s sweat dripped off her. "Here," she grabbed the knife in his shoulder and dragged it out, "let me help ya with that." Faith took the bloody knife and sawed his head off, the demon exploding into dust.

"Faith!" Faith looked up to see the gang and Kruger rushing towards her. "Are you-."

"Five by five," Faith managed a weak smile as she got back up, damn she hurt all over, "that was de Rais, bastard punched like a steam-roller," she explained. "The others?"

"All dead," Xander replied as he steadied her. "Your shooting was enough of a distraction to allow us to gain the advantage, then Ken and Tar came up from behind to help finish them off."

"We better get out of here," Tara commented. "I can hear sirens in the distance."

"Good, I thought my ears were still ringin’," Faith dryly commented before pursing her lips. "Hey, Dillon, you never got to say where you wanna run a team?"

Kruger shrugged his powerful shoulders. "How about right here in Hungry?"

"You wanna live in this madhouse?" Faith’s brow wrinkled as she looked at Kruger. "Seriously?"

"I have roots here," the man reported.

"Come on," Xander interrupted before she could continue. "Forget about everything in our rooms, those identities are burnt. We need to get out of here and driving towards the border before the police get here." Xander glanced at Kruger. "I’ll set you up with a new identity to return with."

"Of-course," the man nodded. "Then I suggest we leave now."