FIC: MC 34 Mar ’01 Immortal Tragedy (1/?)
“…Maggia, The Alliance Of Twelve, K-Directorate, SPECTRE, ODESSA, Illuminti, Dorna, , Covenant, and Prophet Five of all their funds. Eighteen billion dollars in total.”
Xander blinked as he realised Angela had come to the last of the three dozen plus criminal cartels and subversive organisations she’d managed to hack. “You said,” his voice cracked slightly with the tension, “eighteen billion dollars?”
“That’s right,” he heard the pride in Angela’s voice.
He took a second to collect his thoughts before continuing. “And the legitimate businesses?”
“That’s a smaller list, not that there aren’t a lot of businesses with slush funds for under the table operations, there’s just not a lot worth hitting, not at the high end of the table. They are,” the genius hacker paused, “Roxxon International, Hanson Foundation, Umbrella Corporation, Carver Media Group, Caliban Industries, Hammer Industries, and DHARMA Initiative. Their slush funds come to just over six billion.”
“Wow,” Xander’s head swum at the figures. “And those other organisations?”
“The Hellfire Club, Wolfram & Hart, and the Watcher’s Council’s systems are all magically locked in addition to mundane encryption.” Angela retorted, the frustration thick in her voice. “I’d have to be Dumbledore as well as me to get in.” Xander nodded. It was a damn shame, crippling those three major rivals would have really helped in addition to more than quadrupling his bank accounts. “Are you sure you want me to do this?”
Xander paused, a bitter taste in his mouth. When he’d first inherited Mithras’ vast fortune, he hadn’t been able to envisage a time when he would need more money, but now reality was biting. If he wanted The Mithras Brotherhood to continue operating past the great crisis that he was putting it together to fight, to expand and grow, independent of any governmental interference, he needed more funds. “You’re sure this can’t be traced back to you?”
“Xander,” now there was a note of thinly-veiled amusement in the hacker’s voice, “the only person who could track me works for you too, I think I’m safe.”
“Okay, run me through the plan again, but cut the technical stuff.”
“One key-stroke and I can transfer all of the organisations’ targeted accounts to a cyber holding company in Barbados. The moment the last cent arrives in the holding company’s account, which given the power of the server I’m using, some two generations newer than those used in our nuclear defence program, will be in less than a minute, the company will be dissolved, and the money will appear in over three dozen different banks in countries with the most stringent banking privacy laws. The moment the last cent arrives ends, the money will be transferred again, this time merging into a dozen different banks, and then again into six, both times in the same sort of countries – Luxembourg, Liechtenstein, and Switzerland, all the real private banking countries. Finally it’ll be moved into the account that Mr. Stark has set up for you.”
“You mentioned something about a false lead?” Xander replied.
“Three actually,” the genius hacker replied. “The first is a Kentuckian by the name of Theo Roundwood. I know you won’t like setting anyone up, but this guy is a real piece of work. He’s a genius, no doubt about it, but has no sense of responsibility. In ’98, he briefly crashed the air control in Miami, almost causing multiple mid-air crashes, and wiped the FBI’s paedophile database, just for a laugh. In ’99, he briefly turned off all the ICU machines in a Tennessee hospital, five people died. He’s just the sort to try ripping off these people without a thought of what they would do to him if they caught up. Roundwood’s trail will look like it was set up by a cyber-mercenary by the name of Duscan Porbosky who works for any multi-national willing to pay his fee, stealing secrets or sabotaging the opposition. Porbosky’s trail though leads to, for anyone smart enough to follow the deliberate mistakes, Lee Ching. Ching’s the no 1. China’s computer genius, he frequently hacks western manufacturing businesses for his government, stealing designs so they can flood their own markets before the west can. I figure the amount of damage that we’ll have done to these organisations, they won’t have the resources or nerve to go after a high-up man in the Chinese government, and most people won’t be able to spot the clues leading from Probosky to Ching anyway.”
Xander bit down on his bottom lip. From the sound of things he’d be at the very least condemning Roundwood to a terrible death. But then did someone who contributed to the freedom of child abusers and the deaths of the frail deserve to live? Xander licked the lips, and the money, that almost doubled what he had at his disposal, the resources he could call upon, the number of teams he could set up, the people he could help protect. “Do it.”
Even as he spoke, he heard the sound of a guillotine screeching down.
* * *
Faith leapt up as her man re-entered the bedroom, heart catching momentarily at his defeated look. “Everything five by five with Ang?”
Xander started at her voice before forcing a haunted smile. “Yeah, I just had some hard decisions to make.”
”Wanna talk about it?” she offered, concerned by Xander’s mood.
Xander shrugged. “It’s not important.”
”Damn it,” Faith growled. “If it’s important to you, it’s important to me.”
“Okay, I’m organising an electronic robbery, over twenty billion dollars. But the people we’re stealing from -.”
“Whoa,” Faith gaped. “Back up there, dude. Twenty billion dollars? Maybe I don’t have a head for figures, but ain’t you already richer than god?”
Xander chuckled. “Not quite, the money I’ve got now will more than last us to the big confrontation we’ve got to face, but if we get past that-.”
“When,” she corrected. No way they were losing.
“We’ll need more funds to keep the organisation going and growing,” Xander finished. “I don’t want to rely on governments for money. I want us to be independent and to be able help anyone who wants it no matter where they live.”
”K,” Faith nodded. “Makes sense, I guess.”
“Anyway, these organisations are real bad boys, and when they get their money taken, they’re going to be pissed. Angela has set up a trail leading to a real ass who’s hacked systems that have let criminals go loose and killed people…”
“Xan,” Faith shook his head. “The guy sounds like a dick. You’re gonna use the money to do good. All you do is try and help people, this prick sounds like all he does is hurt ‘em. Stop over thinking crap.”
“Thanks,” Faith melted into Xander’s arms as he hugged her. “There was something else too. Does getting a tat hurt?”
“A tat?” Faith shook her head. “Nah,
stings a little is all. You don’t wanna go to the cockroach pit I used though,
I figure that potentials must have some of a Slayer’s immunity to infections and
shit, otherwise I’d have lost an arm or something. What ya thinking of
getting?”
“Um,” Xander shuffled from foot to foot. “I was thinking about getting a red-bordered downwards pointing triangle with a red S inside it on a yellow background on my upper right arm.”
“What the hell is that?” Faith groaned as realisation hit. Shaking her head, Faith took out the make-up mirror sis had bought her. “See this,” she pointed at her reflection, “does this look like the sort of babe who dates nerds?”
Xander meekly shook his head. “No, dear.”
“Right answer,” Faith put her mirror away. “You wanna get in my pants again there is no fuckin’ way are you getting a Superman tattoo.”
“Yes, dear,” Xander nodded. “Shall we go and meet the others?”
”Yeah,” head still shaking, Faith sauntered out of their room and banged her
fist on the door opposite. “Yo, get your asses moving!” After a couple of
minutes the door swung open. “Damn,” Faith smirked as Tara and Kennedy exited
their room. “Someone was noisy getting their freak on last night.”
“You can talk,” Tara defended before reddening.
Faith’s grin widened at big sis’ embarrassment. This was a new vein of teasing she had yet to mine. This was gonna be fun. “Didn’t realise ya were a screamer, sis. Figured you for more of a refined moaner.”
Tara’s blush deepened. “K…kennedy has a tongue stud,” she explained.
“A tongue stud?” Faith’s brow furrowed then cleared as she realised the possibilities. “Oh yeah?” she turned to look at Xander.
Xander shuddered at her speculative look. “If I can’t have a tattoo, there’s no way I’m having a tongue stud.”
Faith pouted. “Spoilsport.”
FIC: MC 34 Mar ’01 Immortal Tragedy (2/?)
New Jersey
“So you’re like real lesbians? Damn that is so hot! How about you show how you stuff, like in the flesh? Then maybe me and my hetro-life partner Silent Bob can show you what you’re missing by not riding the cock!”
“Unfucking believable,” Faith shook her head as she watched the lanky perv she’d met last time she was in New Jersey harangue big sis and the brat. A city this big and she runs into them both times she visits. Somebody upstairs really, really hated her. Stepping up behind, she spoke. “Hey dude, wanna see my hooters?” The moment the pair began to turn, she punched the tall one in the mouth, knocking him to the ground. “Prick.” She looked towards the silent guy. “Is he retarded?” The fat one looked down at his unconscious companion and nodded. “That’s what I figured. You might wanna teach him about respect,” Faith paused and smirked. “Only if I was you I’d speak real slow.”
* * *
”So why are we in New Jersey anyway?”
“’Cause,” Faith shot her a warning glare, “X says we have to be.”
Used to less hot girls being jealous of her, Kennedy ignored the Slayer’s glower to look demandingly at Xander. The young man groaned and muttered something about him and three hot women was a lot different than it had ever been in his dreams before raising his voice. “There’s a rumour about some sort of demon supremacist group killing all none pure-blood demons and demons who won’t join them.”
“Demons killing demons,” Kennedy snorted. “So far I don’t see a problem.”
Faith sniffed. “Yeah, that’s ‘cause you’re just a Council drone-.”
“Like you was you mean?” Kennedy shot back.
“Hey bitch, I’m no one’s drone!” Eyes flaring, Faith started across the sidewalk towards her.
Tara stepped between them just as Kennedy’s life flashed before her eyes. “You’re not being very welcoming,” her girl-friend scolded. “Say sorry to Kennedy.”
Faith’s eyes widened. “You have got to be -.”
”I’m waiting?” Tara glared down at the Slayer.
“Sorry,” Faith mumbled.
“That’s better,” Tara turned to her. “Not all demons are evil. Many are netural, some are even good. What this supremacist gang is planning is genocide, pure and simple. Also, the more successes they have, the greater power they’ll get, and one day they could well turn their attention to humans.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Kennedy conceded.
“So glad you approve,” Faith muttered.
Kennedy hid a smile as she heard Xander’s mutter behind them. “And people say I can’t plan? I managed to stay out of that one, I’m a strategic genius. As Sun Tzu once said, a wise man does not involve himself in a three-way catfight, for the only profit is scratches. And if he didn’t, he should have.”
* * *
Clem looked down at his drink, smiling half-heartedly as he listened to the story the Wartall beside him was telling. Looking around, he wondered if all there was to life than smoky bars filled with mostly drunk demons, crackling music, and the more than occasional burst of violence.
Hearing a disturbance at the door, Clem turned in time to see the four hundred pound Maxill who acted as the club’s bouncer fly through the air and crash into the far wall. “Look,” Clem’s eyes widened as a human male stepped onto the landing leading into the club, followed by three very beautiful, but very different females, “we don’t want any trouble, just to ask a few questions, but we are coming in.”
“Bloody hell,” a Tuskan, one of a pair of the seven foot tall, four-armed demons, to his right muttered. “We’re in the presence of celebrities.”
“Who is it?” the second Tuskan asked.
“It’s Mithras,” the first replied, his voice trembling either with excitement or fear or both. “They say there’s a price of two mil on his head, a mil on the Slayer’s, and half on the witch, don’t know who the other chick is though.”
“You fixin’ to collect?” asked the second Tuskan.
“You’re jokin’ right?” The first Tuskan shook his head. “After what they did to the
Order, I’m staying well clear. He asks me to kiss his ass, I’m puckering up.”
The second Tuskan chuckled. “I’d kiss that Slayer’s ass without being asked.”
The first Tuskan shot his companion a shocked look. “You don’t say things like that,” he shook his head. “Not if you want to live. The Slayer’s dangerous, more dangerous than him, but the only person she listens to is him.”
Clem barely heard a word of this, his eyes fixed on the blonde of the group, his two hearts thundering. She was so gentle and sweet-looking. He watched entranced as the group split into two and start through the bar, talking to its cowed patrons. His hearts leapt when the blonde and the taller of the two brunettes stopped before him. “Hi,” his stomach somersaulted when the witch smiled at him, the brunette stood just behind, shooting everyone in the bar suspicious looks.
“Hello,” the witch replied. “Do you know anything about a group of pure-bloods hunting down half-breeds?”
“Y…you’re very pretty,” he swallowed. “I don’t know about this group you’re looking for, b…but c…could I buy you a drink?”
“Y..you’re very sweet,” the honey-blonde stuttered, “but I’ve got a girl-friend.”
“Oh,” Clem looked down at the ground, hearts crushed.
“Hey, Clem here’s a step up from your girl-toy.” He smiled uncertainly at the smirking brunette. She was real pretty too, but there was a toughness to her that Tara didn’t have. It scared him a little.
Tara scowled at the other girl. “Faith, I told you to be nicer to Kennedy.”
Faith, the famous Slayer, looked briefly contrite and then shrugged. “She’s still got her head ain’t she? That’s me being nice.”
“I…I’m Clem,” he tentatively offered the witch his hand.
”Tara-.” Faith shook her head as Tara took his hand. “No more than necessary
contact.”
“Clem wouldn’t hurt me would you?”
Clem blushed at the witch’s smile and shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
“Jesus,” the Slayer shook her head. “Months of not getting anything, and now she’s spoilt for choice.”
“Faith,” Tara shot the supernatural warrior a reproving look. “Be nice. Clem is being polite, now, shake his hand.” Faith shot the witch an incredulous look. “You’re not frightened of Clem now are you?”
Faith gritted her teeth. “Are you trippin’? That’s real obvious. How dumb do you think I am?”
The witch grinned. “You’re dating Xander, that suggests-.”
“Funny,” the Slayer stuck out her hand. “Hey, Faith.”
“Hello, miss,” Clem reddened as he shook the celebrity’s hand, conscious that nearly every one in the bar was staring at him. He gulped as he realised something. “Um, miss I’ve got some good news and bad news for you.”
“Yeah?” the Slayer stared distrustfully at him. “Let’s hear it.”
“The good news is I know where the demons you’re looking for are,” Clem swallowed. “The bad news is they’re here and there’s a lot of them.”
The Slayer released her grip on his hand and looked over her shoulder to look at the uniformed demons swarming into the bar. “Oh crap.”
FIC: MC 34 Mar ’01 Immortal Tragedy (3/?)
“Oh crap,” Xander groaned as he watched around two dozen uniformed demons charge into the bar. Somehow he doubted they were the demonic arm of the Jehovah’s Witnesses.
Although that was probably a good thing.
Xander glanced worriedly at the pale-faced beauty stood beside him. In the fortnight since they’d met, he’d watch Kennedy train a few times – and not just from the happys a good-looking sweaty girl gave him. What he’d seen had bolstered his theory that Slayers were all picked from a gene pool of girls naturally suited for battle – determined, brave, athletic, and with an instinctive affinity for battle. Of course, the more Slayers picked successively in a short time, say a couple of dozen in a three – five year period, the weaker the last picked was likely to be as they’d be further and further away from the ideal. But Kennedy seemed more than capable in training.
Of course training and battle were two completely different animals. “Hey, squirt,” Xander said, “it’ll be okay.”
As he’d expected, the nervousness in the diminutive teen’s eyes was replaced by a flash of anger. Women were so predictable, and yet he’d never managed to figure them out.
Reminding himself that solving life’s great enigmas would have to wait for
another time, he drew his Desert Eagles and smiled. “I don’t suppose you’d
believe we’re tourists who took a wrong turn?”
“Yo!” Xander groaned as Faith let out a shout. “Can I just ask, who did the patchwork on your face, Ray Charles?”
* * *
“Humans!” Hornfel let out a roar as he stared around the huddled bar, a smile tugging on his lips as he noted the number of cowering demons and the overwhelmingly out-numbered humans. It had been just over a year since he’d risen to his current exalted rank in the Scourge during the in-fighting that had followed Tieman’s incompetence and death during ‘The Angel Affair’. Since that time he’d searched for a way to make his mark, impress his leader, and it seemed the Old Ones had finally blessed him. Four humans, crucified to the walls of New Jersey’s foremost demon bar would make quite the statement. The Supreme Commander would be most pleased. “Take them!”
Leaping into the main bar, he charged the human interlopers, the other demons scurrying pleasingly out of the way. In seconds he was before the boy, and there he faltered, unnerved by the grim purpose in the youth’s eyes.
Quelling his unease, he snatched up a chair and crashed it into the side of the young man’s head as the boy tried to re-load his guns. The youth stumbled sideways. His companion, a tiny brunette leapt at him, but a backhanded slap sent her sailing over a near-by table.
“You really shouldn’t have done that.” He turned to face the speaker in time to get a shockingly hard right to the face. Stunned by the mere human’s power, his head snapped to one side, pain flaring through his nose. He responded with a wild right that the youth glided under before smashing a toe-kick to his armpit.
“Ahh!” His arm flopping uselessly to one side, he attempted a retreat only for the youth to loop his fingers around the back of his head, and fall backwards. The moment the youth hit the ground, he kicked his feet up to smash into Hornfel’s stomach, driving the air away, and flinging him over the boy’s head, and into a near-by table.
He’d barely had chance to fling the table off him when the boy was on him. Hands on his jacket, the youth dragged him to his feet. “Why,” he grunted when the kid butted him in the face, “do I think,” the youth threw him into the jukebox, he slid down to the ground, “you’re not trying?”
“Freeze! Or your friends get it!”
Hornfel laughed at his second-in-command’s shout. The bigger of the brunettes and the blonde were out cold, held up by his men, while the smaller brunette was struggling in the arms of two more. His laugh faded as he realised that around half his men were lying dead on the ground, most due to the boy or the older brunette. Wiping blood away from his face, he stood, strode over to the boy, leaned back, and drove a right into his stomach.
The kid greyed and fell to his knees, breath coming in wheezes. Next he slammed a left into the side of the boy’s face, bursting open a deep cut. The boy swayed but didn’t fall, his eyes staring bleakly up at him. Angered by the youth’s fearlessness, he drove a foot into the youth’s stomach, just where he’d just punched him. The boy doubled up and vomited bile up onto the dusty ground. A smile returning to his face, Hornfel looked around the hushed bar. “We are better than humans, because we are pure-bloods,” he kicked the boy in the shoulder, “but even this human is better than a half-breed. You’d think their stupidity and genetic inferiority would ensure half-breeds’ eventual destruction but let me tell you, even the smallest of vermin need be addressed. As long as they are allowed to keep crossbreeding they will be forever diluting our precious demon blood with their simpering humanity, ensuring the world will never be ours again. Only when we are cleansed can we turn our attention to the even more important task of taking this dimension back as our own.” He looked towards his men. “Take them outside and nail them to the wall.” He looked down at the youth at his feet. “Save him to the last, let him watch.”
“I’m afraid we can’t allow that.”
* * *
“That’s the third report that has them heading this way,” his companion paused.
“And you’re sure?” he demanded.
“A gang of people who look like they have footballs for heads, they’re kinda hard to mix up.” His companion chuckled before pausing. “There’s a lot of them and only two of us.”
“We sort of have an advantage they don’t,” he replied.
His friend shrugged. “Can’t argue with that. What do you think they are exactly?”
He pursed his lips in thought. In his long life he’d run into more than one vampire, but these were things beyond his experience. All he knew was that whatever they were they’d killed a group of humans very dear to him, and that wasn’t the sort of thing a man like him was inclined to let go. “My Scottish upbringing tends me to some sort of supernatural explanation,” he shrugged. “But the scientist in me wonders if they’re some sort of failed genetic experiment.”
His friend raised an eyebrow. “Those acne cream tests can really get out of hand can’t they?”
He smiled wryly. “There is only way to answer all these questions.”
“Yeah,” his friend nodded. “You realise that means we’ll have to let at least one of them live to question them?”
He shrugged. “We can always kill it afterwards.”
FIC: MC 34 Mar ’01 Immortal Tragedy (4/8)
“Definitely demons then,” Duncan muttered as they entered the wrecked bar, eyes widening at the creatures lying in and around the debris.
“What gave it away?” Connor muttered before raising his voice. “I’m afraid we can’t allow that.”
The leading demon shoved aside the battered youth, stepped over his pummelled victim and glared up at them. “More humans?” the monster shook his head before gesturing towards five demons dressed in outfits disturbingly similar to that of the Nazi party. “Kill them.”
“He said that like it would be easy,” Duncan commented as he whipped aside his trenchcoat and drew his sword.
“It’s always nice to be underestimated,” Connor replied as he followed suit. “You go and help those kids, I can hold off these five.”
“Okay,” Duncan leapt from the balcony entrance and to the ground, the balcony’s hand-railing obviously broken during an earlier fracas. The two nearest demons reared back in shock at his sudden appearance, their surprise giving the opportunity to back-hand decapitate the demon to his left. He started to swing his blade towards the one to his right but was forced to change his attack to a parry when another demon flung a bottle at him, glass shattering on the flat of his blade.
* * *
Clem stood frozen in shock, stood in the exact same position he’d been in when the much-feared Scourge had charged in and attacked Tara and her friends. His head snapped towards the door at the sound of the other humans charging in, slowly coming out of his bemused fog.
A cold anger grew as he saw a Scourge demon with his back to him manhandling Tara. “That’s not right,” he muttered under his breath. Not many people were nice to him, humans least of all, but Tara who was a for real celebrity had taken the time to speak to him. Shame battled with fear as he watched the demon paw up the young human. “Arrrrrrgh!” Before he knew it he was charging towards the demon.
The Scourge trooper started to turn but too late. He hit the demon in the shoulder, shoving Tara aside as he crashed down on top of his opponent, huge bulk pinning him to the ground as Clem punched and bit at him.
* * *
Faith bit back a groan as she awoke. Sensing instinctively she was in a hostile environment, she furtively opened her right eye. A scowl tugged at her lips at the scene, Clem fighting a demon, sis out cold, Ken prisoner, and Xander looking down and out while two strangers fought about half a dozen of the demons.
Looked like she’d have to even up the odds. A grin on her face, she opened both her eyes and looked up. “Hey boys.” The moment the demons started to look down, she moved. Using the demons’ grips against them, she pulled her arms across her body, the force and manner of her movement sending the two demons crashing together in a head to head collision.
The moment her two captors released their grip, Faith allowed momentum to send her falling onto her back, flowing through into a backwards roll and back to her feet. Seeing another demon charging her, Faith waited until the last second before bending forward and flipping the man over her back and headfirst into the counter behind her. “Yo! Xand!” she hollered as the first two began advancing on her, her only weapon a hastily picked up beer bottle. “I could do with some help around now!”
* * *
Hornfel scowled as he looked around, unable to believe his luck as the two humans destroyed his men. “Knife.”
“Owwwwww!” he screamed as pain erupted in his left calf. Shooting a disbelieving look over his shoulder, he saw the young male rolling to his knees. A snarl twisting his lips, Hornfel turned, blood dripping down his leg, and threw a downwards right.
His eyes widened when the youth blocked the blow on his left forearm and drove a right uppercut into his groin. Pain exploded in his crotch and the air in his lungs found another place to be, leaving him doubled up and wheezing.
By the time he’d straightened, the boy was on his feet and advancing. Hornfel flung a right, the boy blocked it and smiled. “Don’t you want to know,” the boy twisted away from a follow-up body shot, “who’s kicking your ugly ass?”
“Your name doesn’t matter human!” he howled as the body stamped on his left foot. “Only your death!”
“Some would say different,” the boy ducked a right hook before planting one of his own in Hornfel’s side. “Some would say being killed by Mithras is a pretty big deal.”
“Mithr-,” his blood chilled as the boy produced an automatic from nowhere and shoved it in his mouth, a slight smile on his face as he pulled the trigger.
* * *
Duncan’s eyes widened as the back of the heads of two of the demons facing him exploded in bloody messes. “Connor,” he ducked under a wild sword swing to coolly impale the remaining demon. “The boy and girl move well, are they?”
“I can’t sense anything,” his friend replied to his unfinished question. “You?”
“The same,” he replied. So, not just Immortals and demons to deal with, something else entirely. Life just kept throwing curveballs.
* * *
The moment the last of the demons turned tail and ran for the back of the bar, Faith flashed Xander a concerned look. Satisfied her man was okay, she hurried over to big sis only to be beaten there by the brat. After a shake of her head, she turned her attention to helping Clem off the by now long dead demon he’d been fighting and back to his feet. “Thanks for helping sis out, Clem.”
The demon looked down at the ground. “That’s alright, miss.”
“Damn,” Faith flashed the demon her dimples, “miss? My friends call me Faith. And anyone who helps Sis is a bud of mine.” Faith hid a smirk at the floppy-skinned demon’s deepening blush. “Am I right?”
“Yes, miss.” Clem nodded.
“Jeez,” she winked at the demon. “Nice guy, but you’re not a quick study are ya?” The demon looked uncomfortable. “Ah,” Faith bumped Clem with a hip, “just joshing you, bud.” She looked around to see Tara coming round. “How about you check on Tar for me?”
“Yes mi-,” the demon beamed, “yes, Faith. I’ll get right on it.”
Faith laughed softly before rushing over to her boyfriend. Up close, Xander looked even worse. “Man, he worked you over.”
* * *
“Really?” Xander winced as pain shot through his mouth. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Are you alright?” one of their two rescuers, a tall lean man, the older of the two, asked as he sheathed his sword.
“Just about,” Xander winced again as he nodded. Speaking, moving, and breathing hurt. He wasn’t about to try laughing any time soon. “Thanks to you.”
“Think nothing of it,” the man continued with a half-bow that was almost courtly in its extravagance. “We have been hunting those,” the man’s brow furrowed, “those demons for some time.”
“Oh,” Xander turned to see Tara staring from stranger to stranger, eyes widening. “That’s not possible, so many auras. I can’t be reading you right.”
Confused, Xander turned back to both men. Suddenly it all made sense. The expertise with swords, the style of always going for the head, and Tara seeing multiple auras. “You’re Immortals, right?”
FIC: MC 34 Mar ’01 Immortal Tragedy (5/?)
“I’m sorry?” Connor stiffened at the boy’s recognition of what he and Duncan were. The boy definitely wasn’t an Immortal, nor were any of his companions, although the taller of the two brunettes was definitely something other than normal. “Immortals?”
The youth raised an eyebrow, his attempt at innocent confusion apparently unconvincing. “Ah, amnesiac immortals, I thought you guys healed every wound.”
“Apparently not,” Duncan commented. “Please, tell us what these Immortals are.”
”Yeah,” the young man nodded. “Well let me run over the bullet points for you.
You’re a race of people who can only die by decapitation, although I suppose
being blown up would have the same effect. You all have exceedingly fast
healing, but this is only activated on your first death, if you die by
decapitation the first time you die, you never become an Immortal. You battle
for the 'Prize',” a pained grimace flickered across the young man’s face,
clearly he was someone to whom knowledge was vitally important, “whatever that
is, and have done for untold centuries. You’re governed by a number of rules.
Two Immortals cannot fight on holy ground, are unable to sire children, and all
combats between Immortals are one-on-one, with no outside interference. The
victor gains the loser’s powers, but sometimes, if the loser was a bad ass,
their soul can corrupt the winner, turning them evil. But,” the youth smiled,
“as you saved our collective asses-.”
“Speak for yourself,” said the stunning brunette, “I was just playing possum.”
“I’m willing to bet you’re not bad Immortals.” The boy paused. “How am I doing so far?”
“And why do you think we’re these beings?” Connor asked.
“Well, the way you fight, always going for the head-shot, and swords are Immortals’ favoured weapon of choice, not exactly common in the middle of New York-.”
“You’d be surprised,” commented the brunette.
“And when Tara,” the youth glanced towards the blonde, “saw all those differing auras, I knew what she was really seeing were fragments of all the souls you’d taken.”
Connor glanced towards Duncan before speaking. “And what are you?”
“Fighting always makes me hungry-.”
“Everything makes you hungry,” said the brunette.
“How about we find somewhere to eat?” the youth glanced behind. “Tara, Ken, are you ready?”
* * *
“Give me a minute,” the witch strode over to Clem, surprising him by throwing her arms around him as far as they would go and squeezing, “thanks sweetie.”
Clem blushed and then sighed as the group trooped out, an emptiness settling in his stomach.
“Hey, Clem!” he turned towards the bartender. “So bud with the Slayer and the witch hey? Long as you come here your money’s no good!” The bartender slammed a tankard of foaming ale on the bar in front of him. “Drinks for you my friend are on the house!”
* * *
In minutes, Faith and the others found themselves in a simple but perplexingly styled western bar, complete with a Stetson wearing bar-tender and waitresses dressed only in chaps and leather waistcoats while country-music continually blasted out of the guitar-shaped jukebox. “No need to ask why you picked this place,” Faith muttered in her man’s ear.
Faith chuckled when Harris reddened. “I heard the music from outside. Besides,” her boy-friend winked at her, “Tara and Kennedy aren’t complaining.”
Faith laughed softly as she glanced towards their two companions stood gaping around the wooden-floor boarded bar. “Guess not.”
“Are we going to get some explanations now?” demanded the taller and younger of the two strangers. The older of the two was blonde, lean, and with serene eyes, the younger, dark-haired, deeply-tanned, and muscular, with hard determined eyes. Both moved in the same sort of way, with a warrior’s grace.
“Sure,” Xander gestured them into a dimly lit booth. “Faith, will you get us our usual?”
“Sure.” Faith glanced towards their guests. “Guys?”
“Two light beers, please,” the older of the two replied.
“No problemo,” Faith started through the bar, noting the antique firearms adorning to the walls, together with other pieces of frontier history, such as saddles, marshal badges, and Native American headdresses. “Yo!” Faith shouted as she settled into a bar stool, and shot the bartender her ‘special make the guys weak at their knees’ smile. “Nice place, original.”
”Thanks.” The bartender gave her a slow up and down glance but before
continuing. “If you and your girl-friends want a jo-.”
“Thanks, but we’ve got some,” she casually dropped a fifty onto the bar, “just want three orange juices, a JD, and two lights. Oh, and keep the change.”
By the time she got back to the others, they’d all sat down. After passing around the drinks, she slid into her normal position sat beside her man. “So, you two guys got handles?”
It was the oldest who spoke. “We’re Connor and Duncan MacLeod.”
Faith looked from one man to the other, they sure didn’t look related. “San Francisco?” Faith asked.
The two men exchanged puzzled looks. Xander groaned. “Faith means are you gay?”
“Doesn’t mean nothing to me, so is sis’,” Faith defended before glancing towards a now colouring Tara. “Although gayness,” she shot the brat a withering look, “is no excuse for bad taste.”
Kennedy’s mouth opened. “Please, not now,” Xander said through gritted teeth.
Connor started to look at them as if they were all mad. Which was a little unfair. Tara was nuts for dating Ken, but the rest of them were reasonably sane. “As Xander,” the man nodded towards her boyfriend, “surmised I am an Immortal, as is Duncan. I was born in Scotland in 1518, a member of the Clan MacLeod. Duncan was born in the same village in 1592. When we met in 1625, I became his mentor, because he was my clansman I felt a certain responsibility, training him in the ways of the Game.” The self-proclaimed Immortal took a sip of his beer before grimacing. “That is revolting.” Connor looked at them each in turn. “And what are you?”
“Faith,” Xander looked towards her. “Is the Slayer.”
“The Slayer?” Connor snorted. “The one girl Chosen to fight all the vampires?”
“You’ve heard of her?” Xander asked.
Duncan shrugged. “When you hang around dark alleys for long enough you’re bound
to hear the occasional rumour. We always thought it was a legend.”
Faith smirked. “X thinks I’m pretty legendary, right hon?”
Her boyfriend half-smiled. “There’s no safe answer for that.”
Faith nudged Xander with her hip. “Then
say nothing, asshole.”
”Message received and understood.” Xander winked at her before continuing.
“Tara is a witch, Kennedy’s a potential Slayer-.”
“A what?” Connor asked.
“If I die,” Faith fought back a shiver. That was one thing X had given her, fear. Before him and Tar had entered her life, she’d had nothing to live for, no one who cared for her, just a rat-hole to live in, and no money to live on. As a consequence, she’d seen death as just an ending to pain. Now though, she didn’t wanna die. “If I die, she might get Chosen to take my place.”
“Right,” both MacLeods stared at Kennedy for a long moment before turning to Xander. “And you?” Duncan asked. “What are you?”
Xander shifted self-consciously in his seat. “He’s carrying the knowledge and skills of his ancestor, the man who led the human armies to overthrow the demons who once ruled earth eons ago,” Faith replied for him. “You know, kinda like the way you guys get your powers, only this guy chose Xander ‘cause they’re related.”
“Oh,” Connor and Duncan exchanged looks. “And that would make you, Mithras, correct?”
Xander nodded. “How do you know?”
“You hear things,” Duncan replied.
”Yeah,” Xander swallowed. “Well your skills would come in really handy. I was
wondering-.”
“Sorry,” Connor shook his head. “We’re not interested.”
FIC: MC 34 Mar ’01 Immortal Tragedy (6/?)
“No?” Xander’s heart dropped. Of course a couple of ass-kicking Immortals wouldn’t want to work for a teen. “Might I ask why?” he strained himself in an attempt to hide his disappointment.
Connor shot him a strained smile. “We have to ready ourselves to fight for the Prize. You have your mission, we have ours.”
“But the prize…” Xander stopped and shook his head. “You don’t even know what the prize is!”
“I know I don’t want an evil Immortal getting its power,” Connor began to stand. “You fight the battle in your way. We’ll fight it in ours.”
“But you were hunting the Scourge!” he protested.
”That was personal, they’d killed some friends of ours,” Connor shook his head.
“It was a pleasure meeting you. And interesting. Bye.”
Duncan winced at them as Connor strode out of the bar. “Sorry, he’s a little abrupt.”
“Yeah,” Faith drawled, irritation flickering in his girl-friend’s gypsy-brown eyes, “you’d think he could spare a little time, you know seeing as he’s not running on the same clock as everyone’s else.”
Duncan grimaced. “Well, sorry.”
* * *
“Don’t I get a say in this!”
Connor stopped at the crossing, his enjoyment of the coolly peaceful night spoilt by his friend and protégé’s shout. Sighing, he turned to face Duncan. “You don’t have to come with me.”
“Connor,” Duncan shook his head as he came level with him. “That’s not the point and you know it. They need all the help they can get if even half the rumours we’ve heard are true.”
Connor raised an eyebrow. “You know my stance on these things,” he paused, and looked left and right before starting across the road, raising his voice to be heard over the traffic and attendant noise from the near-by bars and restaurants, “helping people as we come across them is right and just. But the Brotherhood needs a long-term commitment, and our focus has to be on the prize.”
“And this could help,” Duncan argued beside him as they crossed over and continued back to where they’d left their car. “They could provide us with a better gym-.”
“The Seacouver dojo is fine,” he interrupted. “We have everything we need there.”
“They could provide us with far greater resources to hunt down bad Immortals,” Duncan pressed. “And you’re not telling us our techniques wouldn’t improve by training and sparring with people from differing fighting styles. And fighting demons can only improve our reaction times and increase our endurance.”
Connor looked at his friend, momentarily tempted, before smiling and shaking his head. “Sorry, but I know my feelings, the Prize must come first.”
The argument continued as they walked through New Jersey’s streets. Turning a corner, he glanced into the shadows before starting down a ramshackle, refuse-strewn alley. “Excuse me sirs,” the air hummed to the sound of their drawing swords as they both spun to face the bulky figure behind him. Eyes alight with fear, the sneak reared backwards and fell with a thud into the rubbish to his left. “Help!” Recognising their tail as the demon that had helped them in the demon bar, Connor joined Duncan in pulling him to his feet, wincing with the effort of lifting the heavy creature. Once upright, the demon smiled sheepishly and started to wipe the rubbish off his rotund body. “Thanks guys,” the demon paused. “Say, do you know where Tara is?”
“There are laws against stalking,” Duncan paused. “Although I’m not really sure if they apply to demons.”
“I’m not stalking,” the demon appeared out-raged. “I would never do that to Tara. Besides Faith would kick my ass if I did.”
“That’s true,” Duncan nodded. “So maybe you should go home.”
“I can’t!” the demon let out an anguished howl. “Ten minutes after you left, a Dertu came in, and as everybody knows who can bare to get downwind of them they’re terrible gossips even with-.” Connor coughed and looked at his watch. “Yeah, sorry,” Clem nodded. “He said that two of the Scourge were waiting outside when Tara and the rest of you left. They followed you and were talking to another Scourge on a cell. They’re planning to ambush them!”
Connor shot Duncan a worried look. “We don’t have a cell number,” he said.
“We best hurry then,” Duncan slapped Clem on the shoulder. “Thank you my friend.”
They both turned to leave. “I….I’m coming with you!”
Connor sighed. There wasn’t time to argue. “Very well, but hurry!”
* * *
Aick looked up as the doors to the abandoned warehouse he’d commandeered as his temporary headquarters slid open. His eyes narrowed as a solitary demon worked in. Rising from his seat, he hurried over to the man. “Garth! Where are your brothers!”
The demon swallowed at his tone. “We ran into some troub-.”
“Trouble!” Aick’s temper erupted as he grabbed two handfuls of his subordinate’s shirt, lifted him off the ground, and slammed him into the wall. “There were two dozen of you! What sort of trouble is too much for two dozen of the brethren to deal with?”
“A Slayer,” his underling gurgled.
”One girl?” he snarled. “One girl?”
“No sir,” the demon shook his head. “She had friends that aided her.”
“And of this massacre only you survived?” he scowled. “How is that? Is the stench I smell from you the scent of a coward?”
“No sir,” the demon’s eyes widened and his head shake grew more vigorous. “Three of us survived. I sent the others to trail the infidels while coming here to alert you so we might must our forces and take our revenge.”
After a second Aick lowered Garth to the ground. “A wise decision,” he praised before looking around at those watching the confrontation. ”Gather our men!” he bellowed, nodding in satisfaction as the troops scurried into action. “Load the cars. It is time we set an example that the thrice-damned Watchers and their Slayer line will remember for generations!”
* * *
“And now it’s your turn for a fry!” Tara cooed.
Deciding she’d projectile vomit if she watched Tara and Kennedy feed each other for another minute, Faith turned her attention to her boyfriend, noting his morose expression that had been present since the two Immortals had left. “I thought you said you wouldn’t try and force anyone to join the Brotherhood who didn’t want to join? You were plenty forcey before.”
Xander shrugged. “I just wish they’d taken my offer. I mean they’re Immortals, what harm can a few years be?” Xander sighed, head sinking into his chest.
“That Prize seemed wicked important to them,” Faith comforted. “It must be something big.”
“Yeah,” Xander sighed again. “The Prize.”
“You brood more than Fang,” Faith idly commented.
Xander’s eyes widened in horror. “That’s a terrible thing to say to your
boy-friend!”
Faith winked, pleased that her accusation had got a reaction. “Yeah, true though.”
Xander’s mouth opened in a defence that would take her like no time to destroy. Before he’d said a word, a trash can flew through the front window, showering anyone unfortunate enough to be in the front of the bar with glass. A second later and the door swung open.
Faith groaned as another Scrounge member walked through the front door. “What, don’t these asses learn?” She groaned as more demons started climbing through the broken window, flinging aside any humans near there. Even more than before, they were so screwed.
FIC: MC 34 Mar ’01 Immortal Tragedy (7/?)
Xander’s eyes widened as chaos broke out, all thoughts of their rejection at the hands of MacLeods fleeing at the sight of the Scourge demons swarming into the bar. “Faith, turn the table over!”
“On it!” A grim look on her face, Faith snatched hold of the underside of the table and popped it out of its base, nails securing it to the ground no obstacle to the Slayer who then flung the table into the centre of the floor, side up.
“Great,” Xander nodded before looking towards Tara. “You and Kennedy get the civilians out of here.”
The witch’s eyes widened. “But….”
“Get moving, sis!” Faith snapped. “X, weapon-.” Faith nodded as she caught a mini-uzi. “Wicked.”
Xander dived for the cover offered by the table Faith had flung to the ground. Faith on the other hand leapt over his head and over the bar, just like his girl to want to be near the booze, and started to fire at the demons from there, catching them in a deadly crossfire.
The Scourge started to fall like dominoes, the air filling with the sound of gunfire and their pained bellows. Despite that, Xander grimaced through the rapidly smoking atmosphere, realising the moment they had to re-load they’d be rushed and done for.
Between their weapons fire, they’d more than halved the number of demons before needing to re-load, but that still left close to thirty. Xander grimaced as the numbers charged him as he hurriedly rammed another clip into his gun.
* * *
“Shit!” Faith cursed as her trigger finger clicked empty. “Out of ammo!” Seeing a Scourge demon leaping over the bar, she grabbed a Jack Daniels bottle from the bar and flung it at the demon.
The makeshift missile shattered against the demon’s head, knocking it back over the bar with a pained cry. Faith caught the next demon in mid-air, twisted at the waist and released him, allowing his momentum to carry him into the drinks cabinet behind her. Glass and shelves exploded with the demon’s headfirst collision, knocking him senseless and to the ground. She sidestepped a third’s headlong rush like a matador avoiding an angry bull before grabbing her would-be attacker by the seat of his pants and flinging him over the far end of the bar.
But then she was jumped by three demons at once. Thanks to her narrow confines, she was unable to use her usual agility and grace to combat her attackers, and was forced to rely purely on Slayer strength.
”Ugh.” Faith grunted as she took a left to the mouth. Ducking under a
follow-up right, she shoved the demon into the second of his number. The third
grabbed her from behind, wrapping his arms around her. “Dumb move.” Using the
unwitting leverage provided by her restrainer Faith kicked up, connecting with a
double crotch shot to the pair before driving the back of her head into her
‘captor’s’ face.
”Ahhh!” the demon released his grip and stumbled backwards, the mirror to the
side showing his face was a crimson mask.
Turning her attention back to the two in front of her, Faith wrapped her arms
around the doubled-up demons’ necks, suplexed them up into the air until their
heads were parallel with the floor, turned towards the bar and dropped them
across it.
Faith cursed as two more demons charged her. She caught the first in the chest with a heel kick that sent him catapulting back the way he came, but then she was simultaneously grabbed by the demon she’d butted and the second of the new pair, and flung into the shattered remains of the drinks cabinet. Dazed and winded, Faith managed to parry the first kick at her on her forearm, and even kick the other attacker in the crotch, but another demon flung a bottle at her, the bottle exploding on her head further dazing her. And then Faith’s world was just boots kicking at her.
* * *
Xander caught the first demon unlucky enough to reach him with a heel kick to his left knee and an elbow that the demon obligingly fell face-first on. The demon fell away with a howl only to be replaced by another. Xander swayed away from the demon’s haymaker, grabbed his wrist, and yanked forward and into a palm-strike to the jaw that knocked the demon’s head aside with neck-snapping force.
Releasing the demon’s suddenly limp arm, Xander grunted as another dived at him and tackled him around chest-level. A simultaneous elbow between the shoulder-blades and knee to the belly sent his attacker to the knees, but before he could ready himself, he was hit by a barrage of blows from a trio of demons.
* * *
”Wow!” Connor commented as he leapt through the broken window. “When these kids
plan a riot, they really plan a riot.” All thought of hilarity disappeared at
his first sight of the corpses littering the floor. Unlike him and Duncan, the
humans there wouldn’t rise again.
Connor looked around, bullet-holes littered the walls and furniture of the bar, glass lay intermingled with human and demon corpses, and the smell of gunfire was heavy in the air. His sword took two heads before the demons were aware of his presence. A third turned to face him, but only got an elbow in the face before his beheading for his efforts.
Connor scowled. They were far better skilled than these oafs, but the four of them couldn’t hope to hold against the twenty or so remaining demons on their own.
* * *
”Are you alright, Tara?”
Tara jumped as the bulky demon materialised out of the shadows outside the kitchen she’d just ushered the other patrons out. She nodded even as she wiped away the tears. “B…but Faith and Xander a…are still in there.”
“I…I sent those two swordsmen to help them.” Clem grimaced as he glanced towards the front of the bar, the sounds of battle clearly audible. “But maybe we should help them.”
“Maybe we should,” Tara nodded before looking towards the knife rack filled with meat cleavers and carving knives. “Kennedy, Clem, grab all the knives you can carry.”
* * *
Aick smiled as the young man crashed to the ground. Both him and the Slayer were formidable warriors but sheer weight of numbers had done for them as it would inevitably do for the two swordsmen. His head snapped towards the bar’s back door as it flew off the hinges and two human females and a saggy skinned Mulca stepped through, one of the women and the demon’s arms full with knives. The witch’s lips moved.
Suddenly the knives were flying through the air. Aick winced in surprise as a meat cleaver thudded into his head. He reached up to pull it out, but then his legs buckled under him.
* * *
“Wow,” Xander struggled to his feet, eyes widening as he saw the carnage that Tara had manufactured. “That was so cool.”
”And totally saved me from being toasted,” his battered-looking girl-friend
leapt up from behind the bar. “Well done sis-,” Faith groaned. “Sis, you
killed the MacLeods.”
Xander turned to see both the MacLeods lying dead on the blood-soaked floor, Duncan with a carving knife in the heart, and Connor with a cleaver between his eyes.
The witch reddened. “I only had the skill to throw the knives, not properly distinguish between friend and foe. I knew you two were safe because Xander was on the floor, and I assumed that you were too because I couldn’t see you, but the MacLeods.” Tara winced. “You said that only beheading them would kill them right?”
“Let’s get them out of here,” Xander said. “I guess-.”
“Whoa!” Faith interrupted with a gasp as Connor sat upright and yanked the cleaver out from his head, blood spurting everywhere. “And I thought I healed well!”
FIC: MC 34 Mar ’01 Immortal Tragedy (8/8)
“Wow!” Faith enthused as Duncan joined Connor in awakening, an otherwise fatal wound healing in seconds. “You guys should sell tickets. Stick things in yourself then let everyone watch when the wound heals. You’d make like millions.”
“Thanks for the business idea,” Connor rose with the easy fluidity of a highly-trained athlete, “but it conflicts with our flying under the radar lifestyle.”
“Hey,” Faith shrugged, “no business plan’s perfect.”
Connor looked around the wrecked bar, face souring at the corpses spread across the ground. “If Duncan’s still interested, I’m in. We could do with a move from Seacouver anyway, too many enemies know where we live.”
“I’m still interested,” Duncan unsurprisingly confirmed. “But why the change of heart?”
“Not here,” Connr winced as he heard the sound of approaching police sirens. “Things are going to get busy here, perhaps we should leave.”
“We’ve hired a house about a dozen blocks from here,” Tara put in, her sis’ face still pale from the MacLeods’ resurrection. She loved sis, but Tar was way too queasy for their lifestyle.
Seeing Clem stood on the outside looking in on their group, a position she was more than familiar with, first with all the kids at school, and then with Summers and G, Faith sauntered over to the saggy skinned demon. “Thanks for the save, hon.” She winked at the demon and nudged him with her hip. “How about you come back with us?”
“Yeah,” the demon reddened. “I’d like that.”
“Wicked,” she winked.
“Now Faith’s fixed herself up,” Xander looked towards her and smirked, “shall we get out of here before the police turn up?”
* * *
“I’d be interested in why you changed your mind too,” Xander commented as he led Faith and the others into their rental’s spacious and antique furnished lounge.
“Sure,” Connor nodded as he sat down. “As I said the opportunity to move was a small part of it. But mostly I’ve heard the rumours of what the Mithras Brotherhood was set up to do, and after what I saw in that bar,” Connor closed his eyes for a second. “I can’t turn my back on that, my conscience won’t allow it. The Prize can wait.”
“I’m still in,” Duncan re-affirmed.
”That’s great,” Faith wondered at Xander’s strained smile. Usually he was
practically buzzing when someone agreed to join the Brotherhood, somehow taking
it as proof he was doing things the right way. Tonight though, there was more
life in a monk. “Tara, could you draw up the details of New Jersey’s
resources?”
“Um,” Clem raised a nervous hand. “I could help too. I’m not a good fighter-.”
”You did wicked tonight, Clem,” Faith exclaimed.
The floppy-eared demon reddened at his girl-friend’s praise. “Um, thanks miss, but I was just lucky is all. But I’m a great cook, and I know loads about demons.”
Xander smiled thinly. “Then if you two are agreed,” Xander nodded towards the Immortals and then Clem, “it looks like you have got your first volunteer.”
“Sure, Clem,” Connor nodded. “After all we’re not exactly normal either.”
“I’ve got the information,” Tara passed a printout over to Duncan. “There’s two teams of six in Jersey itself, and a team of eight in Newark, and a team of six in Paterson. Jersey itself has a healthy white witch community and a couple of really knowledgeable occultists. That’s the contact details.”
“In addition,” Faith zoned out when Xander started talking about the trust fund and the Brotherhood’s other resources having heard it umpteen times before. Instead she focused on the furrowed look on X’s face. Yeah, something was definitely up with him.
* * *
“What is your problem?”
Faith groaned as she heard Kennedy’s voice to her right as she exited the bathroom and headed back to her and Xan’s room. The meeting\party had run late, and it was now past two in the morning, all she wanted to do was sleep, not deal with the brat. “Right now, not enough sleep.”
Faith attempted to make for her bedroom, but the Potential stepped in front of her, a stubborn look on her face. “I’m sick of you sniping at me constantly,” Kennedy snapped. “You think you’re something just because you’re the Slayer, well let me tell you, you ain’t.”
Faith smirked. If the brat thought she was big-headed ‘cause she was a Slayer, she would love to see what happened when Ken met Buffy. “Ya think I don’t like ya because I think I’m somethin’ special?” she shook her head. “Not even in the ballpark.”
“Well what is it then?” Kennedy suddenly sneered. “You’re just pissed ‘cause I prefer Tar to you!”
“Babe,” Faith let out a short laugh. “You’re colder than a century old vamp. I just drive stick.”
“Well what is then? Jealous that you don’t have Tara mooning after you anymore?”
“Now, that’s closer. See, sis is a romantic, she believes in the happily after, etc, etc. Me, I’m a -.”
“Pain in the ass,” Kennedy snarked.
Faith ignored that, thus once again proving she was the bigger person. “Realist. All that stuff’s great, but there ain’t many people who get it. But then I look at you, and I see,” Faith licked her lips, “I see me three years ago.”
“I’m nothing like you!” Kennedy laughed.
“If the next thing you’re gonna say is an insult, don’t.” The potential’s mouth closed. Satisfied Faith nodded and continued. “You’re a player, it’s all in the thrill of the chase for you, getting the attention. Well, that’s my sis you’re playin’-.”
Kennedy had paled at her tone. “I’m not like-.”
Faith ignored the other girl to continue. “I was a street kid way before I was a Slayer. And this ain’t the Slayer saying this, this is the street kid. On the street we watch everyone’s back, you hurt Tar, and there won’t be enough left to take a DNA sample.”
“Faith, I would never-.”
“Whatever,” Faith stepped around the potential. “And FYI, don’t think you get a second chance.”
* * *
Xander looked up as she walked in. “What were you and Ken talking about?”
“I was just telling’ her to do the right thing by sis or else,” Faith replied as she climbed in bed beside her man.
“Faith,” Xander shook his head. “At least give her a chance. Just stop riding her until she actually does something wrong.”
”Riding her?” Faith grinned. “That image send you to a happy place, honey?” She
scowled when Xander barely reacted with even a blush. “X, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Xander shrugged.
“We can do that talking thing ya know,” Faith pressed. “You open your mouth and sound comes out, I pretend you’re interesting and listen.”
Xander’s half-smile was gone as quickly as it appeared. “I know what the Immortals and the Prize are.”
“Wow,” Faith stared at Xander for a moment. “Spill.”
“When The Old Ones ruled earth, they experimented heavily on humans in the field of what I guess we’d call genetic manipulation, although they used magic rather than science and were thousands of years more advanced than we are now. They wanted to ‘improve’ the humans they used as entertainment in the pits.” Xander paused, eyes momentarily closing. “One of their inventions was a human who couldn’t be killed except by decapitation and who consumed their opponent’s powers, memories, and experiences when they took the head of another like them, making the human more powerful with each head they took. Fearing their creation would become too powerful if they were able to breed, the Old Ones ensured that both females and males of their invention were sterile. The Prize,” Xander shook his head, “the Prize was simply what they got for taking their twenty-fifth head, their freedom from the pits. But the Immortals today don’t know this, so they continue taking heads, believing that only one of them can live to get this damn, non-existent prize!”
“Man,” Faith breathed, “this is major.” Faith stared at her boy-friend. “You have to tell the MacLeods.”
“Think Faith,” Xander shook his head. “How can I tell them?”
“They can tell the others and stop the fighti-,” Faith’s voice trailed off as she reached the conclusion Xander had obviously already reached, “oh shit.”
“Oh shit is right,” Xander nodded. “The other Immortals will think it is some sort of trick and will continue fighting. Then the MacLeods will have to kill them, knowing they’re killing them for nothing. They can’t know, nobody can know.”