"O……oh boy."

Faith groaned at Xander’s breathless gasp. Her boy-toy was sat crouched over his lap-top, reading what she guessed was Brotherhood mission reports. Unless he was making that sorta noise over her in some new lingerie, it was never a good sign. "What’s the sitch, stud?"

Xander glanced up at her query, a slightly stunned expression on her lover’s face. "I’ve just been reading Angela’s hacks. Apart from Wolfram & Hart’s encrypted and enchanted system, there isn’t a network she can’t get into."

Faith raised an eyebrow. "Just what every gal loves to hear," she caustically remarked, "her man gushing over another fem-type."

"Sorry," Faith hid a smirk at her man’s predictable blush. He was just so easy to play, still fun though. "Anyway, I was reading the hacks – intelligence agencies, crime syndicates, multi-nationals, and shadow organisations, that sorta thing. It’s the Vatican intelligence I’m reading, stuff so top-secret that it bypasses the pope en-route to the Holy City’s true powers."

"Which says what?" Faith impatiently demanded.

"That a Merus Pectus has been born."

Faith stared blankly at her companion. "Xander you know I don’t know shit about Latin."

"Sorry," her boyfriend grinned apologetically. "It means ‘Pure Heart’. A person without evil in them."

"Ya mean like a saint or somethin’?" Faith guessed it had to be something like that to involve the Vatican.

"No," Xander shook his head. "Rarer than that, a person with the potential to ascend to Angelhood when they die. The last person to do this was Sir. Galahad over a thousand years ago."

"Whoa." Despite herself, Faith couldn’t help but be impressed.

"Yeah," Xander nodded excitedly. "The only problem is if the child is corrupted in its infancy it’ll never live up to its potential."

"And there’s a chance it’ll happen to this kid?" Faith asked.

"Its dad is a crime boss, an extorter, loan-shark, and drug-dealer."

"Jesus," Faith scowled. "So the Vatican are snatching the kid out, right?"

Faith’s eyes bulged when Xander shook his head. "With recent losses they’ve decided it’s too high risk. You know the massacre of its teams, Crow defecting to us."

"Too high risk?" Faith spat, her temper starting to burn. Nothing disgusted her more than people giving up on kids. "We’re gonna get the kid tho?" Faith relaxed slightly at Xander’s nod. "What are we gonna do with it afterwards?"

Xander grimaced. "I haven’t thought that all the way through," the Sunnydaler admitted. "My first thought is Tony might take the kid. He’s always wanted a family."

"Sounds like a plan," she agreed. "Where’s the kid anyhow?"

Xander hesitated then let the hammer drop. "Johannesburg."

"Jo'burg?" Faith groaned. "Crime and murder capital of the world, Jo’burg?" Xander nodded. Faith groaned again. "Just checkin’."

* * *

Caracas, Chile

The setting sun bathed his hilltop villa in a soothing glow, reminding him of his many blessings. Yes, he beamed as he looked over the balcony to his sprawling, lushly green lands beneath, he was very lucky indeed.

"Sir," he turned to see his uniformed man-servant diffidently stood in the balcony’s entrance. "The last of your guests are here."

"Thank you," he smiled at his subordinate. "They’re in the lounge?"

"Yes sir, as per your instructions," the livered servant swallowed. "Your guests are very intimidating people."

He smiled. "They wouldn’t be who they are if weren’t intimidating. But you can stay in your quarters until they leave."

His butler nodded gratefully. "Thank you sir." The man scurried off.

He allowed himself a chuckle. His servant was a man skilled in looking after a house, but he had his weaknesses, foremost amongst them being a lack of courage.

His own failings were legion, he mused as he started through the house’s silent passageways. However a lack of courage wasn’t one of them. Which was fortunate given his guests’ predatory nature, any show of weaknesses with them would only end up with any one of them devouring him whole.

Many might have considered that a discomforting thought, but he found it exciting. For without danger, he always felt as if he was walking in a daze, danger made him feel somehow more alive.

He’d need that edge to deal with his guests. Opening his lounge’s door, he walked into the spacious room, its beige-coloured walls adorned with a variety of medieval weaponry. He nodded to his guests; each sat warily watching one another. "Thank you for coming." As he took his seat, he inspected each of his guests in turn.

His gaze first fell on a short wiry man with cool grey eyes and a silvery pony-tail, his features as severe as chiselled stone. Kalybas was an Immortal who lived for the joy of killing, a murdering sadist feared even by the likes of Draco. In his time he’d killed for the likes of the Vatican, Department H, the Watcher’s Council, HYDRA, the Yakuza, the Hand, Mossad, the Order Of Taraka, and many others besides, moving on whenever his current employer bored him. After the first couple had tried to force him to stay, the future ones learnt their lesson. No one told Kalybas what to do.

Next to him sat a tall, lean to the point of gauntness, man with pinched features and deep-set, cold brown eyes. Dux Noctus was a nine hundred year old vampire, a vampire with a very peculiar trait for one so old, a fascination with hunting Slayers. He’d killed ten, far more than any recorded vampire.

Next to the demon sat an athletic woman with cool grey eyes and waist-length blonde hair. The leather-clad woman was Haldis Calder, a Norwegian mutant whose ability of photographic reflexes enabled her to learn any skill after just seeing it once. A most handy ability that had allowed her learn the martial arts of Asia, Africa, Europe, and South America, over thirty styles in all.

Next to the mutant sat a hulking brute of a man. With his wide shoulders, barrel chest, and thick limbs added to his shaven head, cold black eyes, and lantern jaw, the muscle-man had a fearsome appearance. And yet one that paled next to his blood-soaked reputation. Sgt. Jason Cameron had been an US. Ranger who killed his unit CO. in an argument over a gambling debt. Given the choice of death or being experimented on by Manticore, he’d chosen to become a lab-rat.

Perhaps death would have been preferable because Cameron had been forced to endure over two years of gene-splicing in the company’s quest to create a super-soldier. Eventually they’d succeeded in removing his conscience and melding his DNA with a gorilla’s strength, a cheetah’s speed, a wolf’s senses, a monkey’s agility, and a rhino’s endurance. They’d created Ani-Meld, their own perfect soldier. Until he’d escaped and become a killer for hire.

Next to Ani-Meld sat another victim of multi-national experimentation. The curvy, mini-skirted beauty looked like a casting-director’s dream with her long legs, full chest, gleaming emerald eyes, fine features, and kissable lips.

The truth was far uglier. Sarah McCormack had been a beauty queen dubbed the ‘Model-Killer’ by the British press after she chopped up no less than three of her fellow competitors. Sentenced to life imprisonment, she’d instead been transferred to a research facility run by Cybus Industries. The company had piggy-backed off the work of Kevin Burkhoff and Chandra Suresh to alter McCormack’s DNA and give her abilities far beyond normal humans – x-ray, telescopic, and night vision, teleporting, molecular intangibility, and cloaking. Once ‘Fe-Cide’s’ alterations were complete, she’d escaped and become a highly paid assassin.

The final member of the murderous elite was a tall, black woman with tattoos on her face and her wiry black hair cut into a Mohican. Malika was a former Tarakan, one of the few of that rarefied order remaining. Her particular power was magic. Dubbed ‘War Witch’, she was perhaps the world’s most skilled exponent of offensive magics.

Yes, he allowed himself a wry smile. They were truly an elite gathering. But then they would have to be for what he had planned. "Thank you for accepting my invitation. My name is Milo Santraya, and I represent the Watcher’s Council. I’ve brought you here for one reason." He paused for a theatrical moment. "To hire you to hunt down the Mithras Quartet."

"Ah this Slayer," Dux Noctus purred after a momentary shocked silence. "She’s unusual even for a Slayer. I’d like to battle her."

"This Mithraspawn," Kalybas smiled coolly, hands steepled together. "He killed Draco. He could be challenging."

"The Slayer’s too pretty," McCormack giggled, insanity’s light gleaming in her eyes. "Too pretty to live."

"Screw this," growled Sgt. Cameron, his native Texas drawl thick in his voice. "I’m not interested in the challenge. I want the money."

Milo hid a smile at the former soldier’s question. How blunt, how predictable. "Five million for either Mithras or the Slayer. Three million for the witch and one million for the potential. Payment on production of their heads."

"The Council haven’t moved against the Mithras Quartet since Rupert Giles took over its still burning embers. Why now?"

Ah Kalybas, several thousand years of life made him shrewder than the rest of his guests. "It’s not through any lack of intention on Mr. Giles’ part," Milo replied. "He’s simply been too busy dealing with re-building the Council. But now it’s in more or less working order he has time to turn his attention to less urgent yet more important matters. Including the elimination of the Mithras Quartet. Unfortunately," he began to pace the spacious lounge, enjoying every eye on him, "while the Council has considerable financial resources, its actual human assets were slaughtered in Harris’ rampage. But as I said, we have the necessary funds to recruit even the crème de le crème of assassins. You are all in that most esteemed group." Milo smiled. "I am a sporting man and Mr. Giles wishes to keep his hands at least peripherally clean. So I took it upon myself to organise this hunt."

"World’s a big place," Cameron gruffly pointed out. "The Mithras Quartet only ever stay in one place long enough to raise hell then leave. Killing them would be hard enough, but catching them will be even harder."

"That won’t be a problem," Milo confidently predicted.

"What do you mean?" Dux Noctus demanded.

"When hunters want to catch a lion, they’d tether a goat or a deer to a tree and hide until the lion was lured in," Milo replied. "I’ve snared such a bait."

"Your words paint a pretty picture but are short in detail," commented Haldis Calder.

Milo conceded the point with a smile. "I’ve planted a false report in the Vatican’s computer system, the sort of tasty titbit that someone with Harris’ saviour complex couldn’t resist."

"And where is this appetising bait?" queried Kalybas.

"Johannesburg."

"One of the world’s most lawless cities," Malika commented. "Quite a kill zone."

Milo beamed. "Then if you’re all in, let the hunt begin."

* * *

Xander grimaced as the sun beat down unrelentingly on him. Perhaps more than any other city they’d visited, the contrast between the haves and have-nots was shockingly wide. While ‘Jo’burg’ was the capital of Africa’s richest province and the economic hub of the nation’s large-scale gold and diamond trade, Soweto was a shockingly poor suburb, a shanty-town just a few miles away from gleaming skyscrapers. Not to mention its reputation for crime.

According to the UN South Africa ranked second for assault and murder, and first for rape, in the world. One of the most visible results of South Africa’s crime wave was the increasing number of gated communities in the wealthier northern suburbs and the private security companies’ safe-guarding businesses and high income households. Then there were the taxi wars that made the city’s roads amongst the world’s deadliest.

And this, unarguably one of the world’s most dangerous places, was where a potential angel had been born. And he’d brought his girls here. Xander sighed at the guilt assailing him.

Not that the city didn’t have it its charms. Situated on a vast island plateau it straddled jagged quartz ridges beneath which a century of gold mining had created a maze of tunnels. Millions of trees crowded the city, an unexpected backdrop to the Victorian and Edwardian architecture as well as the afore-mentioned skyscrapers. The sprawling city bustled with a busy night-life, ranging from sports bars and cocktail lounges to live music and late opening clubs.

"I was thinkin’ we could go to the Mandela Family Museum, the Apartheid Museum, Gold Reef City, and Constitution Hill."

Xander turned and grinned at his girl-friend sprawled on their king-size bed, clad only in a pair of barely ass-covering cut-offs and a too tight to breathe but who cared black gym-vest. "Look at you, the tourist."

The Slayer smirked before flipping him the bird. "Bite me Harris. I don’t think we should travel to all these countries and just see hotels and clubs." Faith’s smirk widened. "Not that I don’t love five star living."

"Really," Xander chuckled. "I’d never have guessed." The Westcliff was gorgeous with its private courtyards, cascading sculpted gardens, and unquestioned position as Jo-burg’s premier sunset and moonrise viewing spot. The pink-bricked hotel clung to a steep mountain side with breath-taking views of the distant Magaliesberg mountains or to the zoo below. The hotel provided everything the guest could want.

Unless the guest was a globe-trotting adventurer battling the forces of darkness. Then its selection of fashionably cut Kevlar vests came up a little short.

"’Kay," Faith’s gaze sobered. "Spill ya guts ‘bout the kid."

Xander grimaced, his mood immediately brought down. "Lucas Pinnear is Hector Pinnear’s father. He’s supposedly the owner of Pinnear Protection, a security business staffed by former African special forces soldiers, offering security to many of the city’s restaurants, bars, night-clubs, and hotels. In reality he’s an extornist, pimp, loan shark, and drugs dealer. He operates mostly in the south and centre of the city, preferring not to shit where he lives, in the north." Xander paused. "The South African gangs aren’t organised like the mob or Yakuza. They’re a lot wilder and more ruthless, the southern townships being battle zones. According to both Interpol and the South African police, Pinnear is the main man, but there’s perhaps four other gangs who’d like to knock him off the top of the mountain. The good news is Pinnear doesn’t live in Soweto, he lives in Sandton, one of the higher-class, more lawful suburbs. The bad news is his mansion’s guarded by his people, that’s where Hector is, and that’s where we’ll be breaking into tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Faith grinned. " So that means we can go out clubbing tonight, right?"

"If you want," Xander grinned.

"Wicked!" Faith’s dimples deepened as she beamed at him. "Where we gonna go?"

"Only the biggest club in Africa, The Monsoon Lagoon."

"Jesus!" Faith exclaimed.

"Oh my-," Tara’s voice trailed off.

"God," Kennedy finished for the Wicca.

Xander didn’t speak, he was too busy taking the chaotic club in. The sound and light show that displayed all of nature’s wonders. The barmen who also apparently doubled as professional fire-eaters. The trapeze acts in the ceiling, the laser beams flashing everywhere, the modern music pounding the DJ’s suspended booth and the naked catwalk dancers.

Oh yeah, he definitely noticed the catwalk dancers.

"Owwww!" He winced and yelped when his ear was grabbed and twisted.

"Eyes front and centre, Harris," his strangely possessive girl-friend warned. "Now," the supernatural warrior’s dark eyes scanned the crowded club, while he scanned her in a mid-thigh length silvery halter dress, "how in the hell are we gonna find a table?"

Xander smirked as he rubbed his ear. "We don’t need to." He briefly savoured the puzzled looks on his companions’ faces before relenting. "I’ve booked us a VIP booth on the mezzanine."

"Wicked cool!" Faith’s dimpled, dazzling grin made his heart jump as he basked in her luminous eyes.

* * *

Dux Noctus smiled to himself as he stuffed the corpse into the toilet and closed the door behind him. Over the centuries he’d developed a taste for rich blood. In earlier centuries he’d found his prey in banquet halls or ballrooms, but in the modern age he’d taken to hunting in the world’s most exclusive nightclubs.

He halted, back tingling as he sensed an unmistakable presence. "The Slayer," he growled, eyes instinctively flashing yellow with hunger. What a stroke of luck.

Most vampires wouldn’t have noticed, not at this distance and not in such a crowded environment. But most hadn’t spent nine centuries hunting Slayers. He’d only killed ten, but he’d tracked another six only to get there in time to kill those who’d robbed him of his prey.

It was just a case of following his nose. He looked up and smiled, fangs flashing in the strobe lighting. Of course, from all accounts this Slayer and her companions enjoyed life to its fullest. There was only one place they would be.

* * *

As you can see." Faith really didn’t like the way the tall, dark-skinned hostess was smiling at her man. The booth’s leather couches sure were comfy though. "You have an internal phone from which you can ring down to the bar and order either food or drinks. You can also control the -."

Faith’s eyes widened when the hostess’ neck snapped to one side and the woman crumpled to the ground. As fast as Faith was, she was only half-way out of her seat when the figure at the entrance leapt across the booth and slammed into her.

The collision’s impact drove the wind from her and lifted her from her feet. The booth’s floor to ceiling glass wall shattered as she flew through it, her ears filling with its tinkle and her friends’ cries. And then she was falling, her attacker’s hands clawing at her throat.

* * *

"What the-, who the-!" Xander bounded to his feet as Faith was attacked. The demon or whatever the hell his girl-friend’s attacker was had struck with such speed and power it had taken them all by surprise.

But now, he drew a .32 realising that too much power would propel any bullets through Faith’s attacker and into her, and stepped towards the gap in the glass, it was time to enter the fray. " Who was that?"

"I don’t know," Kennedy gasped, "but they’re over there."

"Perhaps you should worry about me."

Xander spun to face the speaker. He had the briefest glimpse of a statuesque, tattooed African woman and then Tara was screaming, her voice filled with fear. "Xander! Get down!"

* * *

Malika smirked at the witch’s panicked scream. Each witch had an unique energy signature, making it easy for a witch with her experience and skills to track them. Dux Noctus’ appearance was an unexpected twist but she could work with it, at least he provided a distraction.

And she could always kill him afterwards.

Malika extended her hand, palm out-stretched as the power began to billow up inside her, ready to explode outwardly. And then power of a different sort hit her, spinning her around like an ungainly top, sucking the air from her lungs, and flinging her from the booth, and across the mezzanine to crash into the far wall. Malika hit the ground with a grunt. Head ringing, she forced her shaking limbs under control and struggled to her feet.

There had always been three magical beings she’d resisted taking contracts against – Strange, Rosenberg, and the Halliwells. Now there was a fourth to add to the list Malika decided as she staggered out of the now panic-stricken club.

* * *

Faith and her assailant fell in a shower of glass, the dancers below scattering out of their way. Faith grunted as she hit the ground, back arching as the back of her head bounced off the unyielding wood-covered floor. She saw the flash of fangs and then the apparent vampire’s fist was blurring into her face.

Once, twice, and then three times it hit her, each punch crashing into the side of her face until all she saw was stars and tasted was her own blood, bubbling up in her mouth and the back of her throat. Dazed, she was helpless to prevent the vampire yanking her head to the side. "Slayer blood," the demon snarled in her ear, "it’s been sixty years since I tasted -."

Four loud bangs crashed through the screaming club. The demon straddling her twitched and spasmed like a puppet whose strings had been snapped. Faith took advantage of her assailant’s distress to bring her legs up, hook them under her attacker’s armpits and power him off her.

Then she started to her feet, spitting blood as she used one of the near-by tables to pull herself upright. All around was pandemonium, strobe lighting illuminating fleeing customers and dancers, their screaming drowning out the music. The bouncers fought their way through the melee to a situation they really wanted no part of.

The demon lunged at her again, but with a good deal less speed that before. Her side heel kick caught it in the chest, knocking it back the way it had come even as her backfist crashed into its cheek. Amusement flickered in the vampire’s eyes, its thin lips parting in a snarl. Then the creature turned and retreated through the panicked crowd, heedlessly knocking away anyone unfortunate enough to be even near his path.

Faith spat out some more blood before starting after her attacker. "Wait," Xander shoved through the crowd to grab her arm and pull her back, "you’re in no condition for a fight. Besides we have to get out of here before the police arrive."

Faith grimaced then winced as pain shot through her jaw, proving Xander’s point. "Makes sense," she grudgingly agreed.

But her and that demon were gonna meet again, she silently promised.

"Who were they? Were they working together?" Kennedy demanded.

"Be one heck of a coincidence otherwise," Xander replied as they spilled out into the crowded street in front of The Monsoon Lagoon. "We can’t assume our reservations at The Westcliff haven’t been compromised," he decided as they hurried to their car. "We’ll have to take up our stand-by reservations at the Intercontinental Sandton Towers."

"Intercontinental Sandton Towers?" Faith shot him a suspicious look. "Still five stars, right?"

"Yes, Faith," Xander sighed. "Still five stars." Sometimes Xander wondered if Faith’s priorities weren’t more than a little askew.

* * *

Pretoria, South Africa

Mubai stared at the CCTV’s grainy footage. The young brunette was both sleek and beautiful, but also extremely deadly. Then he looked towards the national papers arrayed on his walnut-varnished desk. Each one carried a front page headline relating to the outrage.

Finally he directed his gaze towards the thick-set, close-cropped stood to attention at the other side of the desk. "You’re sure," he paused, gathering up the nerve to complete his enquiry, "it’s her?"

"The club CCTV appears conclusive, and there’s few in the world who can move like her." The chief of his security forces hesitated. "Sir, we’ve also positively identified Mr. Harris." Mubai groaned as he leaned back in his leather upholstered chair. The Mithras Quartet, here, just what his turbulent nation needed. "Mr. President, what do you want us to do about this?"

Mubai winced. That was the crux of the problem and no mistake, a problem without an easy solution. It was also however the kind of decision he was elected to make. "Have a loose surveillance put on them."

Streng raised a bushy eyebrow. "You don’t want them apprehending sir?"

Mubai almost shivered at the carnage such an attempt would doubtless cause. Wise men knew better than to mess with the Mithras Quartet, not without good reason. So far they’d not pulled a government down, but he suspected that was only because none had sufficiently annoyed them yet. "No, not unless they attempt to interfere with governmental operations or attack law-abiding citizens."

"Yes sir," the security chief hesitated. "Sir, should the Recces be put on stand-by?"

"I think that would be prudent," he replied.

* * *

Faith hung back when they signed in at the Intercontinental Sandton Towers, her face cast uncharacteristically down and long locks dangling in front of her to lessen the chance of any one noticing her battered features. Once they reached their rooms, Tara and Kennedy following in behind, Faith flopped wearily onto the bed. "Xan, have you got any ice?"

"Sure." Xander hurried into the on-suite bathroom and came out carrying a towel that he took over to the complimentary ice bucket and wrapped some ice cubes in it before passing the towel over to her. "There you are honey. How are you feeling now?"

"Hurts like a son of a bitch," Faith forced a smile at her lover’s concern. "But Slayer Healin’, ya know."

Xander nodded, apparently soothed by her reply. "Do you have any idea who he was?"

Faith chuckled then winced as pain shot through her swollen face. "We weren’t ‘xactly exchanging business cards while he whaled on me, ya know?"

"He must have said something," Kennedy pressed.

"Nah, wait," Faith paused as a memory flashed in her head. "He said he hadn’t tasted Slayer blood in sixty years."

"Well that’s something." Xander passed Tara the laptop. "Could you have a look?"

Tara didn’t bother to speak, just nodded, opened up the laptop and started tapping at its keyboard. "Wow," Tara let out a gasp after five minutes. "The forties was a hard decade for Slayers."

"What do you mean?" Xander queried.

Tara shot her a tension-filled look before re-directing her eyes towards Xander and continuing. "Statistics show that’s there’s usually about six Slayers a decade." Faith hid a wince at the reminder of her calling’s perilous and short-lived nature. "In the forties there were fourteen. Seven died in war-related incidents, bombing-raids, shootings, that sort of thing. Four Slayers died in demonic but none vampiric occurrences. One was slain by a female vampire, another was killed by a male vampire who was reported killed by a vampire called Darla in the early eighties," Tara stopped and gulped. "Oh boy. The third Slayer was killed by Dux Noctus, a nine hundred year old vampire who makes a habit of hunting Slayers." Tara paused again. "He’s slain ten."

"Aw crap," Faith glanced towards Xander, knowing the answer to her question even before she asked it. "So we skippin’ out?"

Xander’s headshake confirmed her prediction, his eyes grave and expression grim. "We can’t. We have to have the angelic child."

"Aw crap." Faith repeated.

"What about the witch who attacked us?" Kennedy asked.

Tara shrugged. "I’ve no idea.

"Two attacks at once seem awfully coincidental," Xander commented grimly.

"Don’t it just," Faith agreed before sighing. "I suppose we should make plans for tomorrow’s raid?"

"Yeah." Xander nodded. "After all, the sooner we’ve done that, the sooner we’re out of here."

Xander swallowed as he stared through the binoculars at the crime-lord’s walled mansion. The residence sat on top of a hill, the armed guards more than enough to deter his rather posh neighbours from visiting. The irony was having Jo’burg’s foremost crime lord living in their midst ensured that Sandton was the city’s most crime-free suburb.

Of course, Xander bared his teeth, that peace was about to be utterly shattered. Rising, he began to creep through the undergrowth until he was just metres from the bare-wire topped wall and its CCTVs. "Faith," he muttered into his mouth-piece, "go for the diversion."

* * *

"’Kay," Faith shook her head as she gunned the engine, checked her window was all the way down, and took a long breath. As usual, Xan’s plan was real simple.

Probably to avoid confusing the brat.

Faith slammed down on the accelerator, propelling her screeching SUV towards the house, rubber burning on the tarmaced road. Faith gritted her teeth as the steel-grilled 4 * 4 bore down on the black-painted metal grille gates.

At the last second Faith took her foot off the pedal and dived through the open window. She sailed gracefully through the portal, hitting the grass to her left on her shoulder, and rolling away from the mansion, her face carefully shielded away from the car as it crashed into the gate. Even so, her ears rang to the sound of the explosion, and she felt the heat radiating off the fire as well as the collision’s impact reverberate through the neatly-cut lawn she was laid upon.

Faith looked up to see the mangled SUV pressed up against the reinforced gates, steam and flames shooting up from under its crumpled hood. Hearing the guards’ shocked bellows, she leapt to her feet and charged to her planned entry place.

* * *

When he heard the car’s collision with the gates, Xander forced himself to ignore his worries about Faith to leap up and fling his grappling hook over the wall. Their diversion would only give them a limited window of opportunity to get inside, they had better make the best of it.

Xander’s biceps writhed as he tugged on the rope attached to the grappling hook. Satisfied the nylon rope was secured, he started up the wall, striding up the white-washed brick. "Owww," Xander hissed as he reached the top and struggled over the barbed wire. One thorn cut deep into his left leg, blood trickling down his calf.

The pain was forgotten when he spied a MP-5 wielding guard running up. "Damn." Xander drew his Mossberg 590 and fired. The gun’s muzzle spat fire, the blast hitting the man in the chest, blood crimsoning out as he crashed to the ground, lifeless eyes looking up.

Xander leapt off the wall to land in a crouch besides the downed man. He shot the corpse a guilty look before starting through the mansion’s wooded grounds, telling himself that a man who guarded one of South Africa’s most notorious criminals probably wasn’t a choirboy.

He burst out of the trees’ shadows just feet from the three storey building. He’d only just placed a foot on the house’s rounded stepped entrance when the white double doors crashed open, a pair of thick-set men with MP5s in their hands standing in the entrance.

Xander flung himself backwards, shotgun bucking in his hand as he tugged on the trigger. Arid cordite clogged the back of his throat and blood pounded in his ears as the two thugs crumpled under his attack.

"Nice shootin’."

Xander looked over his shoulder to his approaching girl-friend. "Thanks," he replied as the Slayer pulled him to his feet. "Have you set the charges by the rear?"

"Done," Faith replied. "Shall we go in?"

"Yeah," Xander agreed as he started up the steps.

"Whoa," Faith replied as they entered the vast entrance hall with its polished marble floor, glittering chandelier, velvety drapes, and sweeping double stairwells. "Crime definitely pays."

"Looks like it-." Xander swivelled to the right as a door crashed open, two blasts putting down the gunman rushing through it. "The baby’s room is third door on the second floor."

"What cha waitin’ for?" Faith queried as she started up the stairs, taking two at a time.

"Not everyone’s got Slayer speed." Xander grinned as he followed the brunette beauty up the stairs. "Or looks so good running in front of me."

"True." Faith shot him a sultry look. "But still, smart-ass."

By the time Xander reached the sky coloured nursery, Faith had already picked the baby up out of the cot and was gently swinging the child from side to side. "Look at him, Xan." Faith beamed at him. "Ain’t he the cutest thing you ever saw?"

"Okay," Xander replied, tone tinged with doubt. The kid looked like a mini Winston Churchill to him, but what did he know? "Shouldn’t we get out-."

"Hell!" Faith spun away from the nursery’s balcony as the window exploded inwards, shielding the baby in her arms.

A short, thin man with an air of authority and confidence strode in, glass breaking underfoot. "Xander Harris and Faith Spenser," the man chuckled. "Am I the first to congratulate you on a new addition to your family?"

"Faith," Xander kept his eyes on the smirking intruder, a niggling worry twisting at the pit of his stomach, "take Hector and get out to the car. I’ll just be a minute."

"Oh," the man’s smirk widened. "You’ll be rather longer than that."

* * *

"I’m bored!" Kennedy whined.

"I bore you?" Tara scolded with a smile.

"That’s not what I meant," her girl-friend pouted playfully as she looked around their luxurious hotel room. "I just don’t think we should-." Kennedy’s eyes narrowed as she looked towards the door. "Did you hear that-?"

The door swung open and a blonde hottie slinked in. "I’m sure I can do something to alleviate your boredom."

"Yeah, that’s right," Faith grumbled as she hurried out of the nursery, heart tightening in a worry that belied her harsh words. "Throw me out with the kid. Sexist much?"

"Gaaaa! Gaaaa! Gaaaa!"

"Ignore your Auntie Faith," she cooed at the shrieking baby in her arms, fat tears rolling down its smooth cheeks, "she ain’t mad at you." She beamed as she reached the stairwell and Hector quietened down. "Good boy," she praised, her heart melting as the baby’s big eyes stared up at her. "If only everyone in my life took orders so well, things would run a hell-, heck of a lot smoother."

Rushing down the steps and through to the rear entrance, she opened the kitchen door with a kick before charging out. Seeing the grounds’ wall some sixty feet ahead, she shielded the baby’s head, crouched down, pulled out her detonator, and flicked the switch. The ground shook and bricks flew out from the wall, leaving a gaping hole. "Sush, sush," she swayed the again bawling baby from side to side. "It’s just fireworks, like 4^th July is all." Rising, she rushed through the dust filled gap and up to where Xander had hidden his car. "Yeah, your Uncle Xander will soon be here. Then it’s a new life for you, little guy."

* * *

Xander stared at the short, silvery pony-tailed man with craggy features and calculating eyes for a second before speaking. "Why am I getting the idea there’s a killer convention in town, kinda like Comic-Con, only with less play-guns and a lot more real ones?"

"Ah, the Harris Wit," the man’s chuckle was utterly devoid of humour. Which was hurtful to someone with his growing and honed reputation as a comic. "How close you are."

"Oh yeah?" Xander prompted, eyes narrowing as the stranger drew a gleaming broadsword, drawing his own blade in response.

"A hunt has been organised to kill you and your friends."

"I’m a prize? I’m honoured. I always thought I was prize-worthy," Xander wryly commented as they began circling one another, glass cracking underfoot. "And who’s bank-rolling this party?"

"I forget their name, oh wait, I’ve got it!" The stranger smiled. "The Watchers’ Council."

"What?" The man’s reply hit him like a thunderbolt, shock slowing his reflexes as his opponent launched a skull-cleaving strike that Xander only just managed to wriggle out from under before retaliating with a thrust at his opponent’s chest that the pony-tailed man leaned back at the waist to avoid, his blade swinging up to slap aside Xander’s attack. The man’s parry turned into a lunge as he straightened up, Xander wriggling to the side, the man’s attack impaling nothing but air. The resourceful warrior glided into a backhanded slash that had Xander dropping into a squat beneath it, Xander straightening the moment the blade passed by overhead.

"Not bad at all!" the assassin laughed manically before thrusting upwards at Xander’s stomach. Xander’s sword slashed downwards, knocking his adversary’s weapon aside.

With his rival’s guard down, Xander attempted a back-handed slash at his opponent’s hip. The man growled as he leapt back and crashed into the baby’s cot, knocking it over.

Teeth bared, the assassin immediately leapt back into the attack only to fall backwards when Xander shoulder-charged him.

The pair of them crashed through onto the marble-floored balcony. Xander shoved the swordsman from him and attempted a skewering that the assassin wriggled away from before leaping back at him, sword slashing from left to right. Xander ducked under the attack, his own blade lashing out to blaze a bloody tear across the stranger’s right hip.

Xander’s rival appeared immune to the wound. Instead the would-be killer leapt forward and hacked at Xander who stepped inside the attack only for the wiry warrior to crash into him, the collision sending the pair of them over the balcony’s railing.

Xander gasped as they toppled over the railing, wrapping his legs around his opponent and twisting his body around so that his rival was on the bottom while simultaneously jamming his blade upwards and through the assassin’s chest. His adversary arched and shuddered, blood vomiting out of his mouth to spray Xander’s face.

Xander grunted as they crashed into the lawn. The limp corpse beneath him had shielded him from most of the impact, but a fall from that distance still jarred. Shaking his head clear, he started for the hole Faith had blown in the rear wall.

* * *

"What?" Kennedy snorted as she rose to face the interloper, her posture relaxed but mind gearing up for a fight. "You’re a juggler?"

The beautiful blonde chuckled. "That’s just one of my skills, but not the one I’m going to entertain you with."

"Whoa!" Kennedy gasped when the woman attacked with a high thrust kick to the face. Kennedy leaned away from the kick only for the woman to somehow kick her in the back of her hamstring with her other leg.

Her balance gone, Kennedy stumbled forward, grunting as the woman grabbed her by her hair and shoved her face-first at the wall. Kennedy put out her hands and caught herself inches from the wall. "Aaaaa!" she gasped again when a heel to the small of her back drove her to her knees.

By the time she’d regained her feet, the stranger had Tara rocking and rolling under a flurry of kicks and punches. Her anger boiling over, Kennedy snatched up their bedside table’s lamp and threw it at the back of the bitch’s head.

Kennedy winced when the stranger ducked and her missile crashed into Tara’s face. "Oh sorry!" she contritely apologised as her bloodied girl-friend fell away.

Their attacker spun back to her, a cruel grin gleaming on her face. "Wow, you can really throw."

"Shut it, bitch!" Kennedy snarled as she charged the interloper. Kennedy dropped to one knee to avoid a karate chop to the neck, blood flying from her mouth when her attacker caught her with a knee to the jaw.

Dazed, Kennedy fell onto her back, head bouncing off the thankfully carpeted floor. Seeing her attacker attempting a stomp, she rolled out of the way and leapt up, sparing her prone girl-friend a worried glance before looking towards her opponent.

She was barely in time to duck away from a leaping roundhouse punch. Kennedy leapt forward, hands going for her opponent’s waist in an attempted takedown. Kennedy grunted as she caught a downwards elbow to the back of the head. Then her adversary grabbed her shoulders and flipped her through the bathroom door, her head snapping on the tiled floor.

A barely conscious Kennedy tried and failed to get up, her limbs failing to respond to her commands as she watched the advancing blonde. "I know well over two dozen martial arts from five continents. Anything you could try, I know a counter for," the blonde boasted. "Not even the Slayer could defeat me."

"You’ll never find out." Blood sprayed out of the woman’s mouth when Tara rose up behind her and sunk a knife into her ribs. The moment the assassin had slumped to the floor, Tara hurried over and helped Kennedy to her feet. "We need to get out of here now!"

"Yeah," Kennedy swayed and fought back a groan when she nodded. "Is there a psycho convention in town or somethin’?"

* * *

Faith heaved a relieved sigh when she saw Xander run or rather limp through the hole in the grounds wall. "Yes!" she muttered. "Look Hec," she lifted the kid to the window, "it’s your Uncle Xander." Faith opened the driver’s door. "Kicked his ass, hon?"

"He’s toast," Xander wearily agreed.

"Wicked," Faith praised before sobering. "Ken rang, they were attacked at the hotel. They’re five by five, but we need to go to the stand-by hotel."

"Okay," Xander stuck his keys in the ignition.

"Drive carefully," Faith warned. "Like the car sticker says ‘Baby On Board’."

"Yes Earth-Mother," Xander chuckled.

"Asshole."

"Not in front of the child, dear."

* * *

"Oooh," Kalybas moaned as his back arched, pain lancing through his body. Bracing himself, he looked down at the gushing wound, lightning crackling around it as it closed. By the time the wound had healed, he could hear cars approaching and stumbled to his feet.

A smile played on his lips as he headed for the mansion’s outer walls. Harris was a worthy challenge, but no matter the rival, the result was always the same, he always vanquished them.

Lucas Pinnear glared around his mansion, heart tightening as rage filled his gut. He looked around at his hastily summonsed subordinates. "You’ve all failed me," he growled. "Allowed my house to be violated. Allowed my son to be kidnapped. The only way you can redeem yourselves and save your own lives is to find my son and bring me his kidnappers alive."

Lucas allowed himself a triumphant grimace as his subordinates scattered to obey him. At least he had their fear to gratify him. He reached for the CCTV photographs of the two kidnappers and smiled. "Very nice," he murmured as he examined the grainy picture of the duo’s female. He’d enjoy her for a while before allowing her to join her partner in his crocodile pit.

* * *

"Ahhh, look at him, Tara. Isn’t he the cutest?" Faith cooed proudly as she swung the gurgling baby from side to side.

"He is," the witch agreed as she cast sparkling lights in the sky above the mesmerised child. "Can I hold him?"

"Oh no!" Faith shook her head. "Hec’s staying with his auntie Faith." Faith giggled. "You can look at my chest all you want little guy, but you can’t get a blood from a stone and you ain’t gettin’ any milk from my babies…."

"And yet," Kennedy muttered from his side, "it never stops you trying to suck on them does it?"

Xander shuddered as he watched the two girls bicker over the baby. He’d always wanted a family, but that was hopefully a few years off, to see this reality up-close and now was terrifying. He glanced at his companion. "Don’t you think this is scary?"

"Ah, I think it’s cute," cooed Kennedy. "And hot."

Xander stared at the potential, deciding he didn’t have the heart to tell the teen about the facts of life. "Anyway," he pulled a digital camera out of the Always Pocket, "I need a photograph of Hector."

"Aaaah," Faith blew a raspberry at the giggling child, "does your uncle Xander want a photograph for our album?"

"No he doesn’t," Xander firmly replied as his head began throbbing. "We need the picture for the fake passport that Brill’s contact is making." The picture taken, Xander took out his camera’s memory stick, stuck it into the laptop, and started to email it to Brill’s forger friend. He looked up at a knock on their recently checked in hotel room’s door. "Kennedy-."

"I’ll get it." The potential’s full mane danced as she hurried to the door. The door smashed open when Kennedy was perhaps a foot from it, flattening the unfortunate brunette.

"Oh heck!" Xander jumped up to confront the massive man. He managed to duck an uppercut only for his opponent to catch him with a left jab to the forehead that was concussive in its power.

His legs faltering and shaky, Xander stumbled back against the wall. His eyes widened when he managed to spin away from a chest high heel kick only for the man’s foot to go clean through the wall. Xander retaliated with an elbow to the side of the head that the gigantic thug barely noticed before crashing a backhand to Xander’s face that took him off his feet.

* * *

"Here, catch!" Faith threw the baby to Tara as she surged up. The speed and power with which the intruder moved and the sheer effortless way he’d dealt with Xander had to mean the man was something other than normal.

That thought uppermost in her mind, she raced to attack the intruder only to be forced to duck under a haymaker. The moment the blow had passed harmlessly overhead, Faith leapt into the air, twisting her body around so her head was nearest the floor and her feet were swinging up into the son of a bitch’s face. Crimson spurted out of the thug’s face but other than that he appeared not to notice his injury, instead the hood grabbed her ankle and swung her head-first into the wall.

"Oh fuck!" Faith gasped as her head crashed into the wall. Teeth gritted against the pain, she wrapped her legs around one of her rival’s legs and pulled.

The man grunted as he stumbled and fell, flinging her from him. Faith leapt up and dived on the man before he could start getting up, and started slamming left and rights into him.

"Gooo," she gurgled helplessly, eyes burning with tears when the man jammed his fingers into her throat. Faith hit the floor with a thud when the man threw her off. She was rolling backwards and to her feet when his foot crashed into her chest, knocking her into the bedside table.

Even as she wheezed for every breath, the assassin grabbed her hair and drew his foot back to kick a field goal with her face. "You bastard!" His face a bloody mess, Xander leapt at the man and attempted a takedown from behind.

The hired killer spun to face her man, grabbed him by his shoulders and effortlessly flung him into the widescreen TV, electronics exploding in a Technicolor display. Faith leapt up and spat blood into the killer’s face. "That’s my man, asshole!"

Faith charged in, leaving the floor in a flawless leap that took her into a thrust drop-kick that crashed into her rival’s vault-sized chest. Her eyes widened as she landed in a crouch before her opponent, her kick not even knocking him back a step.

Before she could process her adversary’s staggering durability, the killer had his hand wrapped around her throat and was flinging her through the open doorway and into the corridor’s far wall. Dazed, she slid down to the ground, blood leaking from her mouth and nose.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Blood sprayed from the side of the man’s head, a mixture of blood, brains, and bone hitting the wall as the killer slumped to the carpet. Xander slumped against the wrecked TV, his expression more glazed than when he got lucky, and a smoking Mossberg 590 in his hands.

"Wow," Faith spat blood onto the carpet, a scorching glare sending anyone peering out into the corridor scurrying back into their rooms. "When the Council hires assassins, they really go all out."

"We had better get out of here," Tara commented. "The police are sure to be on their way."

"Gee, you think?" Faith winced as she started back into the destroyed hotel room. "Good luck getting a hotel in our condition."

"Don’t worry," Xander smiled wryly. "I’ve already organised a fall back rental house."

"’Kay," Faith smiled then winced, damn whatever he’d been that assassin had been able to punch. "Let’s go."

"You should have gotten a baby seat for the car."

"Sorry dear." Xander resisted the urge to raise his eyebrow at his girl-friend’s scolding. "I had more important things to consider."

"Faith’s right," Tara spoke up in support of his girl-friend. "Nothing’s more important the safety of a child."

It was only because of his aching head he didn’t headbutt the dashboard. Oh yeah, travelling the world with three smokin’ hotties was every guy’s dream.

Then there was the head-achingly frustrating reality.

Still, it could be worse, there could be four of them. Xander shuddered at the thought as he drove through Hyde Park’s chaotic streets. "How long are we going to have to wait for the forger’s id of Hector?" queried Kennedy.

At least one of his companions could occasionally focus on the practicalities. "Forty-eight hours," he replied.

"And what are we doing until we get word they’re ready?"

Another good question from the potential. "We’re going to lie low," he answered.

"Lie low while Pinnear tears this town apart looking for us and fuck knows how many assassins try and kill us? Great plan Stormin’ Norman!"

Xander scowled at his girl-friend’s caustic tone as he pulled up outside a two-storeyed detached house with a rounded roof and surrounded by thick green bushes. "This is the house," he said.

"Do you normally book three places when we go somewhere?" Tara queried.

"If I’ve got time, yeah," Xander nodded. "And three cars from three different rental agencies."

"At least he thinks of some things, Hec," Faith commenting before starting cooing and blowing raspberries at the gurgling child.

Xander started counting to ten. And to think he’d actually wanted kids!

* * *

Faith grinned at the giggling baby as she curled up on the couch, Kennedy and Xander getting their wounds seen to by Tara across the room. She started bouncing the laughing baby in her arms. "Who’s a pretty boy! You! Yes you are! Hector the Hunk!" Faith lifted up the baby’s white cotton top and blew on his belly. "Yes, you like don’t you?"

Xander sighed. "I remember when she used to do that to me, you know."

"Ugh," Kennedy shuddered. "Gross mental image. Thanks for scarring me."

"I didn’t think you’d fit in a diaper," Tara added.

Xander looked at the witch. "I have slender hips."

"If we’re gonna be hangin’ here for two days, Hec’s gonna need stuff," Faith broke in.

"Stuff?" Xander groaned. "I can hear my credit card whimpering. Anything specific?"

"Diapers, formula, a cot, baby seat, clothes, and toys." Hector giggled as she spun him around. "Lots and lots of toys!"

"I’ll go and get everything," Xander announced as he rose and scooped his keys up off the lounge table. "It’ll give me an excuse to get out of this madhouse."

* * *

Sally beamed at the boyishly handsome man pushing his over-flowing trolley up to her checkout. "Just a few essentials then?" she joked.

The man’s answering grin almost made her knees buckle. "Something like that," the American-accented customer replied. "The girl-friend packed our boy’s things but the airline lost them."

"The airline’s loss is our gain," Sally giggled as she racked up the seemingly endless succession of goods. "It looks like you’ve bought the entire shop."

"My girl-friend," Sally couldn’t help but notice how battered the young man looked, "is very fussy. If I don’t buy the entire shop, she’ll only send me back for the fixture and fittings."

Sally smiled as she finished off racking up the goods. "She sounds like she knows what she wants."

The customer smiled ruefully. "You have no idea." The man looked towards the till. "How much?"

Sally looked at the digitised till display and gasped. "Twenty-three hundred and sixty rand."

"Well what my girl wants, she always gets. It’s my only chance of a nag-free life." The man raised an eyebrow and pulled out a black card. "Thank god for American Express. Could you bag all this for me please?"

Sally stared, mesmerised by the black card, she’d heard of the exclusive Centurion card, but she’d never ever dreamed of seeing one. Wondering if her customer was some sort of pop, movie, or sports star, she nodded dazedly. "Of course sir."

* * *

"Mr. Pinnear."

Lucas glanced up as one of his subordinates raced into his lounge, momentarily halting in his pacing. "I hope you’ve got a damn good reason to be here rather than out looking for my boy’s kidnapper?" he snarled.

His follower flinched then nodded jerkily. "Of course, boss, I’ve news-."

"Then bloody tell me!" he snapped.

The man flinched again, his face paling beneath his deep tan. "I thought they might need clothes for Hector – diapers, toys, clothes, that sorta thing. So I set some of the boys to watching as many as the high-end baby stores as possible. Two hours ago we struck lucky. The man in the photographs was seen in a shop in Hyde Park. We got a car registration." The man swallowed. "Perhaps your police contact can run his registration through the city’s CCTV systems, see where he went."

"I will," Pinnear nodded. "And you order the boys into Hyde Park. Find me my son, but remember I want his kidnappers alive!"

* * *

Dux Noctus smiled as he strode through the city’s darkened sewers. "Not long until night-time," he murmured.

His wounds from the previous night had long since healed, aided by the eating of a pair of passer-bys during his flight from The Monsoon Lagoon. Now he was back and ready to concentrate on his prize, the hunt for the Slayer and her companions. Most vampires weren’t aware of the fact, perhaps because most attempted to avoid Slayers, but Slayers had a smell distinctive from other humans. One he knew well enough to be able to track across a city.

Oh yes, come nightfall there would be blood.

Xander beeped his horn as he pulled into their rented house’s driveway. By the time he’d parked up, the house’s front entrance had opened, and Kennedy was hurrying towards the car.

Xander grinned at the potential as he climbed out of the SUV. "The others are too busy to help?" he asked with a laugh.

The tiny brunette grinned back at him. "It’s like watching two hot Ma Bradys." The lesbian’s dark eyes widened as she saw the plastic bags crammed into the trunk. "Did you buy the shop?"

Xander snorted at hearing the shop assistant’s words repeated. "I didn’t want Faith to send me back for something I forgot."

"Yeah," Kennedy paused, eyes troubled. "Do you think it might be a problem separating them afterwards?"

"Oh no." Xander groaned. "I hadn’t thought of that. Thanks to adding to my worries."

Kennedy grinned as she reached into the trunk and pulled out several bags. "That’s what I’m here for."

Faith and Tara both looked up at their entry. "I hope you’ve bought some diapers," Faith’s nose wrinkled, "Hec’s done a shit. And for a little guy, man he can produce a hell of a lot of stink."

"Yeah, I’ve got some," Xander pulled a packet out and threw it over, "but you like being June Cleaver, you can change his diaper."

Faith’s face fell as Tara leapt up and scurried into the kitchen and he and Kennedy backed out of the lounge. "Aw crap."

"Now you’re getting the idea," giggled Kennedy.

* * *

Dux Noctus glided out of the sewers, nose twitching as it followed the Slayer’s unique scent. His eyes narrowed as he found himself on a lamp-lit upper middle-class residential street.

A street filled with tinted-windowed expensive cars and square-shouldered blacks and whites within them. "Thugs," he growled, noting the guns stuck in shoulder-holsters and in the pockets of ragged jeans, and knuckledusters and bike-chains in their hands. It was a blatant display for even a city as lawless as Johannesburg.

His eyes flickered yellow and teeth elongated when he realised that all four car loads of thugs were congregating on the house his prey was in. "No," he snarled before stalking through the falling darkness. He’d tasted her spirit, he had to be the one who took it.

The two men at the group’s rear were dead before they even knew it, Noctus casually snapping their necks, their corpses slumping soundlessly to the ground.

Some instinct made one of the next men start to turn towards him. Blood spewed from the man’s mouth when he punched him in the throat, crushing his larynx. The man had barely begun to fall when Noctus was gliding onto the next, one hand going under the man’s chin, one over his mouth, and twisting hard.

The crack of the thug’s neck was drowned out by his companions’ alarmed shouts. Several of the remaining hoods began to turn to face him, but before any of them had chance to make an aggressive move, his right fist had punched the nearest thug’s nose up into his brain.

Out of the corner of his eye, Noctus saw one of the men to his left begin to draw his revolver. Realising that any sound might alert the beauty he’d targeted, Noctus leapt at the man, clawed hands leading the way.

His right hand grabbed the thug’s shocked face and yanked, his neck snapping like a twig. "Blast!" Dux Noctus roared his fury when the dying man’s last action was an involuntary finger twitch that sent a round crashing out of his gun’s muzzle.

* * *

Xander couldn’t help but smile as he watched Faith bounce a gurgling, giggling Hector on her lap while Tara cast a spell that had the newly bought teddy bears acting out a pantomime for the enthralled baby. As he’d always suspected his girl was a natural with kids.

And as for Hector, it appeared the baby adored being fussed over by women. "They get harder when you’re older Hec," he warned in a wry whisper.

BANG!

"Hey, Harris did you hear-."

"Yeah," Xander was already rising when Faith spoke, edging towards the window and peeking around the edge of the drawn curtains. "Oh crap," he groaned.

"What’s wrong?" Tara demanded.

"Dux Noctus is out there, fighting with a gang that I’d guess are Pinnear’s thugs. There’s seven, no eight, no now there’s seven, of them, but he’s tearing through them!"

"Guy’s one tough sob," Faith commented.

"But he can’t get in here, can he?" Tara pointed out.

"No, but if Noctus knows where we are, the other assassins might do too," Xander retorted. "And Pinnear can always hire some more thugs. Besides the police are bound to come and investigate this carnage. This place is well and truly compromised." Xander concluded.

"So we headin’ for the car?" Faith queried as she rose, passing Hector off to Tara.

"Yeah," Xander started for the front door. "If we hurry we should get out before they notice we’re gone. Be stealth-like."

The night air was chilly, especially after their comfortably warm house, but Xander ignored that as he rushed to their car, its keys jangling uncomfortably loud in his hand. The moment the last of them were in the car, Xander jammed the key into the ignition and turned it, engine purring into life.

And Dux Noctus snapped the last thug’s neck and turned to them, fangs blood-stained and yellow eyes gleaming maliciously.

"Oh boy," Xander gulped as he slammed down on the accelerator and the car shot off the gravelled drive, the hefty vehicle shuddering slightly as it powered over the downed criminals and straight at the master vampire. Xander caught the briefest flicker of shock in the undead’s eyes and then the SUV bounced as its steel grille bumper crashed into the demon, the monster lifted off its feet and flung into the air.

"Aaaaah crap!" Faith groaned as the roof thumped, dinting inwards. "You don’t think-." The window by the Slayer shattered, a hand powering in to grab her by the throat, claws digging into her milky-white neck. "Uuuuuh," Faith gurgled as they continued to speed through Jo’burg’s night-time streets, her hands coming up to grab the demon’s forearm and vainly try and pull the rampaging monster off, the backseat passengers unable to reach around and help. "Xan!" Faith cast him a desperate look.

"Kinda busy here," Xander muttered. His arm muscles writhed as he yanked the car left, tugging it down a side street just ahead of an approaching convoy of police cars, their flashing lights illuminating the dark night. "Here!" He dropped a Beretta 93R into Faith’s lap.

"Thanks!" Faith scooped up the automatic, leaned out of the shattered window and fired a trio of concussively loud shots. Faith slid back into the car, slumping in her seat, hand massaging her bruised throat. "He’s gone," his girl-friend reported in a hoarse rasp.

"But only for now," Kennedy commented.

"Well yeah," Faith grunted. "Temporary will have to do for now."

Xander didn’t bother joining in the conversation. He was too busy screeching through the city’s streets, dodging between traffic. Things were a miss; all three of their hideouts had been blown in record time, and ditto with their cars. That crazy vampire and god only knew what other assassins were still after them. Pinnear would send more men after them. And now the police would looking for them too.

Talk about a clusterfuck of biblical proportions. Things hadn’t been this bad since the serpent persuaded Eve that taking a little bite of the apple wouldn’t hurt anything.

And look how that had turned out.

Xander forced himself to calm. They had to dump the car and find somewhere else to hide until Hec’s passport was ready. The only question was where to go.

The answer hit him as he blazed past an eighteen-wheeler, the cars heading towards him veering away and voicing their protests in a symphony of screeching tyres and blaring horns. "We’re going to Soweto."

* * *

Dux Noctus growled as he struggled to his feet, body aching all over a combination of being hit by the car, his shooting, and finally falling from the car. Even a vampire of his age had limits.

The Slayer was beginning to annoy him, and that was always a dangerous thing to do. Although she didn’t annoy him quite as much as-, his hands flashed out behind him, snatching hold of an invisible throat and twisting, the brutal action done with such speed to ensure his target didn’t have time to even blink before he acted. An audible snap rang out, and then Sharon McCormack’s limp corpse materialised in his grip.

"My dear," he muttered as he carried her corpse deeper into the side street’s shadows, "did you think you could follow me with impunity?" He chuckled. "You might have had had the gift of invisibility, but I could hear your heart and smell your scent. I wouldn’t have let you steal my catch from me!" He shook his head. But she would come in very useful in fuelling his healing.

* * *

"Soweto?" Faith glanced across at Xander, her hand still massaging her aching throat, damn that vamp had serious strength. "As in one of the world’s most lawless places, Soweto?"

"Ah, you’ve heard of it," Xander wryly replied. Faith threw up her hands and shook her head, groaning as she did so. "Look I admit it’s an imperfect plan, but you said yourself, Soweto’s lawless, the police don’t have many friends down there, nor does Pinnear, his main competitors live there."

"Imperfect plan he says," Faith scowled.

"And what about the gangs that live there?" Tara added.

Xander glanced at first Tara and then her, his expression stern. " Have you got any better ideas?" he challenged.

"No," Faith sulkily replied. "Don’t mean we should do this."

"Well tough, because this is the only idea any of us have got," Xander retorted.

* * *

Lucas Pinear paced impatiently across his study, eyes flitting constantly between the grandfather clock in the corner and the door. "They should be back by now!"

"Yes, those foursome are a most formidable group are they not?"

Pinnear’s eyes narrowed at the diminutive figure suddenly stood in the doorway, not stopping to wonder how the man had managed to get there without him noticing. "Who the fuck are you?" he thundered.

The intruder smiled tightly, apparently unworried by his anger. "That’s unimportant," he replied. "What is important is that I got in here. Your guards are all dead. You’re alone."

Rage growing, Pinnear lunged at the stranger leading with a sharp right cross. He screamed when the intruder somehow wriggled around him, put a foot in his hamstring and pushed forward, while working a hand around his shin, and yanking back. Pinnear hit the wall by the door face first, his nose shattering on impact.

That pain was rendered unimportant next to his leg’s agony. The man released his hold on Pinnear’s broken leg, allowing him to slide down the now blood-smeared wall. He groaned when the intruder kicked him in his side, a rib cracking under the impact. "Now," the man’s voice was cordially polite, as if they were two friends discussing the weather or the sports results, "tell me everything you know about the whereabouts of your son’s kidnappers or I will make your last few minutes of life very painful indeed."

* * *

"Hey Big-Dog, you won’t believe what I just saw!"

"Oh yeah?" Big-Dog took an extra hit of his joint before looking up at his head muscle. "Wanna share, No-Neck?"

No-Neck grinned. The shaven-headed black stood only five foot eight inches tall but was so thick and wide, he looked like a box on legs. His limbs were ridged with muscles, legs like tree-trunks and the arms that stuck out of his sleeveless denim shirt would have made Popeye jealous. "One of my boys saw a car parking up in Molapo with three white girls in it, real sweet meats. I was figuring we should grab them for a party, hell you could make some serious coin off those bitches’ asses." No-Neck spat on the floor. "Dumb fuckin’ tourists."

Big-Dog flashed No-Nose his gold-capped teeth before rising to his six feet seven inch height, floorboards creaking beneath him. "Sounds fun," he replied before reaching into his desk drawer. "Anyone with them."

"Just one guy," No-Neck retorted. "Tough-looking but," No-Neck shrugged his vault-sized shoulders, "just one guy."

"Yeah." Big-Dog pulled out his favourite meat cleaver. "Get the boys together, tell them no guns, only coshes and machetes, and only use them on the man. Let’s make these bitches cry before we make them scream."

Faith peered out of the crumbling house’s dirt-streaked window and sighed. The rising sun bathed the township in a bloody hue that was very appropriate given its troubled history. For as far as she could see there was row upon row of shanty houses made of rotting wood and rusting corrugated iron, dusty dirt tracks, and burnt out or stripped down cars. An air of tired depression hung over the entire area, choking life the life our of the inhabitants it feasted on like a vampire feasted on a co-ed.

"This is a very bad idea," Faith muttered. It had only been an hour or so before dawn when Xander had found this place. His boy-friend had then dumped their car in a ditch half a mile away, broken into the apparently deserted house, and taken up residence. Thirty-six hours before they could collect Hec’s passport from Brill’s forger friend. A heck of a lot of stuff could go wrong in that time, ‘specially in a place like this.

Just like it was goin’ wrong right about now, Faith scowled as she noticed the lines of guys threading through the shanty town without any pretence at stealth. Dumb fuckers. "Guys!" she hollered. "We’ve got company!"

"Oh yeah?" Faith heard Xander rushing into the room. "Friendly?"

"Not hardly," Faith retorted, "a dozen or so bad-asses converging-." CRASH! "Shit!" Faith looked towards Xander, dark eyes widening. "That sounded like the side door."

"Yeah," Xander threw her a trio of Beretta 93Rs while pulling out a Mossberg 590 for himself. "I’ll take the rear, you deal with the side door, give those automatics to Tara and Kennedy, and have them watch the lounge windows."

"I’ll get on it!" Heart racing, Faith started through the house’s drab corridors.

* * *

Xander had barely made it to the kitchen when its door crashed open, a cleaver-brandishing black of towering height charging in. Xander tugged on his shotgun’s trigger, his first blast taking the man full in the chest, dropping him like a bad habit.

The second thug through the door managed to avoid being shot by virtue of falling over the corpse crumpled in the doorway. The third hood through took the blast meant for the second, folding like a deck of cards.

The second thug leapt up with a snarl and shoved the kitchen’s rickety table over and into Xander. "Ah heck!" Xander cursed as he fell backwards into the wall, head cracking against a cupboard.

His trigger finger twitched involuntarily, a blast erupting out of his shotgun muzzle. The blast caught the next man coming through the doorway full in the face, the impact throwing him back out.

And then the thug already in the kitchen was on him, catching him with a right to the shoulder that knocked his aim off, sending a round shattering through the window. Xander blocked a left hook on his right elbow before jamming the butt of his shotgun into his opponent’s gut.

The man grunted, stepped back, and grabbed a chair, swinging it at Xander. Xander dropped to his knees, the makeshift weapon battering the air above, and pulled up his shotgun, finger tugging on the trigger. The blast took his attacker off his feet and splattered his remains against the far wall, blood, bone, and guts dripping down it.

* * *

By the time Faith was half-way down the stairs, the entrance hall it was already swarming with a trio of gigantic machete-wielding blacks with more coming in behind. "Ah hell!" Faith cursed. Somehow she guessed she wouldn’t be getting the guns to Tara and Ken any time soon.

Leaping over the stair railing, she landed in a crouch before the first intruder. Her trigger finger was a blur as she emptied round after round into them, gunsmoke scratching her throat and her ears pounding to their deafening retort.

She dropped five before the last two of them reached her, two bellowing, roided-up musclemen. Faith ducked one way and then the other, writhing and wriggling inside and out of the pair’s flashing cleavers.

A side-thrust kick to her left doubled up one of the thugs into a nose-breaking elbow, blood fountaining out onto the faded carpet. The other grabbed her hair and shoved her face-first at the stairs railing. Faith leapt into the air, hitting the wood banister feet-first as she prepared to spring-board off it.

"Fucccck!" Faith screamed as the rotten wood shattered, sending her sailing through to crash down onto the unforgiving stone stairs.

Head ringing, she rolled up into a crouch in time to see the two thugs charging her, one through the stairwell gap, the other running around to the front of the stairs. Faith leapt up over the man’s flashing knife before kicking him full in the face upon her descent.

Teeth flew out of the hood’s mouth as he flew backwards and crashed into the wall before sliding soundlessly to the ground. "Whoa!" Faith dropped into a squat under the last thug’s violently swinging arm before hooking her arm around the man’s nearest leg, standing, leaning to her left and releasing her grip. The man sailed over her head and landed headfirst on the third step up, the man’s skull shattering like an egg-shell.

And then it was deathly quiet, a hell of a contrast from the chaotic loudness of just a few seconds ago. The smell of blood made Faith’s stomach curdle, the enclosed rooms smelt like a slaughterhouse. Heart hammering, Faith rushed through into the lounge. "Is Hec okay?"

"We’re fine, Faith, thanks," Kennedy snarked.

"Room’s not," Faith retorted. The windows had been shattered; glass lying on the carpet, but two of the three thugs who’d clambered in were lying beneath the room’s sofa, obviously flung there by Tara’s magic. The third was lying under the coffee table, his blood pooling under him.

Hearing a footfall behind her Faith spun around, fists clenched and raised, only to relax when Xander entered. "Okay, so this was a bad idea," her boy-friend breathlessly admitted. "Let’s get out of here." Xander threw her a shotgun. "That’s in case someone follows us." Xander rushed out of the wrecked building.

"Not even a yes dear, you were right dear," Faith muttered as she followed Kennedy and Tara out of the house. She grinned as Hector raised a chubby hand and waved at her.

Her grin faded as she joined the others racing towards the nearest jeep to see more two jeeps heading towards them, dust billowing in their wake and people scattering before them. Oh fuck. "Xan!"

"I see them," Xander shot a grim look over his shoulder. "Get in."

The moment Faith had leapt into the jeep’s back seat, Xander rammed his foot down on the accelerator, the all terrain vehicle shooting off. "How far behind?" Xander queried.

"Not far enough!" Kennedy hollered in reply.

Xander grimaced as he glanced into his rear-view mirror to see now three jeeps full of hooting and hollering thugs racing after them. They probably wouldn’t be too happy with the ten or so corpses littering the house. Then again, Xander wasn’t too happy with the Watchers’ Council for hiring them to kill them.

The speedometer was hitting eighty-five as they shot across a crossroads, veering in front of a dusty red bus, so close that Xander could see the driver’s shocked expression and smell the public transport’s over-heating engine. Once around the bus, Xander was forced to pull hard to the left, tyres screeching as he swung around the rear of a range rover apparently held together by rust before straightening up and powering on.

Xander started slightly as a boom rang out, Hector cradled in Tara’s arms bursting into tears. "What was that?" he demanded.

"Shotgun round through the lead jeep’s windscreen," Faith smugly retorted. "Fucker’s out."

"Well done," Xander praised as he dragged the wheel around and shot the car down a narrow alley. Trash cans flew into the air, garbage flying everywhere as their speeding car hit them like a turbo-charged bowling alley. Xander slammed onto the brakes as they flew out of the alley like a cork off a bottle, sweat appearing on his forehead as he yanked the car right and into traffic.

"Whoa!" Faith yelled about three seconds later. "Smooth move! One of the fuckers just flew out of that alley and into an eighteen wheeler! Bastard crumpled like a stomped can!"

"Good," Xander retorted through gritted teeth as he concentrated on zigzagging through the busy traffic, his actions frequently greeted by screeching horns, blaring horns, curses, or a combination of all three. "And the other."

"Still comin’," his girl-friend tersely replied.

"Have to do something about that," Xander decided. His eyes alighted on a road sign and ears picking up an accompanying familiar sound. Spying an off-road, he wrenched the wheel violently to the right, tyres screeching as he brought the traffic behind to a panicked halt as he dived towards the off-road they’d been about to pass.

"Xan!" Faith let out a panicked yell as their car shot down the thankfully deserted side-road. "What are yaw doin’?" Faith groaned and shook her head. "Oh fuck. Baby, last time ya did this, we had a way better car this heap of shit!"

Xander ignored his girl-friend’s protests to gun the engine, speedometer creeping up to a hundred. "Faith!" Tara let out a confused cry. "What is he doing?"

"Oh nothing much," Faith sardonically drawled, "just tryin’ to make us train pancake."

"What-, oh no"

The speedometer was hitting 110 when Xander hit the rail lines, his teeth rattling as the jeep juddered over the tracks just in front of a dark grey locomotive. The train’s roar was deafening and its lights momentarily blinding, but that was alright, Xander didn’t need his senses to ram his foot down as hard as he could on the accelerator.

And then they were over the tracks, inches ahead of the on-rushing gargantuan. "Jesus!" Faith gasped. "That jeep just got totalled, it crumpled like a screwed up ball of paper, then flipped up into the air."

"What’s the plan now?" Tara asked.

Xander grimaced as he continued down the road, looking for a road that led them back to the relative anonymity of more populated roads. After all, all the plans he’d made since arriving in South Africa hadn’t worked out, his batting average sucked. "First," he decided, "we need to find a shopping mall."

"I like shopping as much as, well probably more, the next girl," commented an ever sceptical Kennedy. "But a shopping mall, now?"

"Where there’s a mall there’s also a very busy parking lot," Faith explained for him. "Great place to lose a hot car in. Long as the lot doesn’t have too many cameras to pick up on our arrival. We park at the back and walk in, casual as. After that?"

"After that," Xander paused for a second before continuing, "we keep on the move, always sticking to the public places. Then when the forger calls, we go and grab Hec’s passport, and head for the airport."

"How long before it’s ready?" queried Tara.

Xander grimaced. "Just over a day."

Faith forced back a yawn as she looked around the busy fast-food restaurant. Heh, screw W&H and their plots, it looked to her like MacDonald’s was just half a dozen franchises from conquering the world. The day was slowly turning into night, ending a frantic day spent rushing from mall to museum back to mall again, anything that kept them in crowds and moving from place to place.

As a plan it seemed to have worked, at least they hadn’t be attacked, but it was pretty damn tiring. Especially with a squalling kid to look after. Not that Hec was a chore or anythin’, not with those big eyes, rosy cheeks, and beaming smile.

Faith tickled the little fella’s rotund belly, her heart catching. In just a few hours, she’d have to give this little treasure up and probably never see him again. She smiled sadly as Hec grabbed a hold of her finger and squeezed, gurgling happily as he did so.

"Are you alright?"

Faith looked up to see Xander staring worriedly at her. Faith forced a smile, getting that warm feelin’ she always got when her man looked at her like that. "Yeah, I’m cool," she lied. "I was just thinkin’ ‘bout what we’re gonna do with the little guy. Is Tony takin’ him?" At least then he’d have everything a kid could want.

"Ah," Xander winced. "He wants to, but thinks he’s too high-profile. People will ask too many questions about where Hec came from. He’s worried that Pinnear or somebody might track Hector down."

Dread flooded her veins, chilling her. "What are ya gonna do with Hec then?"

"Um," Tara spoke up, "he can come and live at one of my orphanages-."

"No fuckin’ way!" Faith snapped, head wildly shaking. "I’ve been in those place. Ya ain’t putting Hect in some shitty-."

"My orphanages aren’t shitty!" Tara’s eyes flashed as she jumped up, the air around the angry witch seeming to vibrate with power. "He’d have a scholarship to any university, toys, friends, a clean room-."

"He wouldn’t have a fuckin’ family!" Faith snapped as she leapt up, eyeballing her best friend as she glared across the table. "Wouldn’t have people he knew loved him!"

"Oh thank god," Xander murmured before pointing past her. "I hate to interrupt," Xander’s insincerity dripped from every word, "but vampires."

"Oh shit!" Her argument forgotten, Faith shoved Hec into Tara’s arms before leaping towards the demons, customers and employees screaming in terror as they fled the brightly-lit restaurant. "Ya guys deal with the minions, I’ll take Noctus!"

"I’m honoured dear," purred the Master vampire, his face stretched in a vicious caricature of a grin.

"Don’t be honoured," Faith ducked a haymaker as she leapt into the attack before thrusting her stake at the demon’s chest, "be dust!"

"Sorry to disappoint my dear." The vampire grabbed her wrist, cold fingers pressing into her warm flesh, then twisted at the waist, and released. Faith groaned as she crashed into the stools arrayed by the counter, the back of her head bouncing off the counter’s plastic surface, hitting it hard enough to dent.

Shrugging off the pain, Faith kipped up in time to catch a sweep kick intended for her head on her shoulder and retaliate with a thrust heel kick. The demon twisted away from her attack, hooked her out-stretched leg, and kicked at the grounded limb.

"Crap!" Faith gasped as her world tilted. The moment Faith hit the floor, she was rolling away from an attempted stomp that hit the ground with enough force to crack the tiles where her face had been. Seeing her opponent charging her, she reached out desperately, grabbing the leg of one of the counter stool’s, ripping it from its floor screws with a hard wrench, and flinging it in her rival’s path. The demon leapt over the thrown obstacle, landing beside her as she reached a crouch, his elbow crashing into her head.

Blood burst from her forehead as she fell onto her back. Head ringing, blind instinct guided her into a backwards roll and onto her feet, her leaping spin-kick catching her opponent unprepared, knocking his head to the side. The moment her feet touched the ground, Faith attempted a downwards stake. Once again the demon blocked her attempt while at the same time crashing a left hook into her forehead.

Faith stumbled backwards, intuitively ducking beneath the demon’s follow-up leaping roundhouse kick to the head. Faith lunged up to hook an arm around the demon’s upper thigh and bring the demon’s small of the back down hard on her bent knee.

Noctus arched like a bow being readied for firing, pain written across its face. Faith brought her stake down only for the vampire to roll off her legs and back to its feet with a snarl.

The two of them leapt at one another. Faith blocked a knee to her crotch on her thigh while ramming her head into the vampire’s face, his nose audibly and visibly cracking under her onslaught. Notcus growled as he retaliated with an attempted thrust kick to Faith’s ample chest.

Faith grinned as she leaned back at the waist, the kick flying harmlessly over her. The moment the still growling demon pulled his leg back, Faith sprang up like a spring, leaping up and over the demon before delivering a hook kick to her rival’s upper back that brought Noctus to his knees.

The moment Faith landed, she spun and staked at the vampire, aiming to take him through his back. Once again the maddeningly elusive demon threw himself away from her attack, hand-springing back to his feet before spinning to face her.

The demon lunged at her again. Faith sidestepped the attack, kicking one of the restaurant’s bins into her rival’s path. The demon stumbled but still managed a backfist that sent blood flowing from her bottom lip.

Ignoring the pain, Faith retaliated with a feinted stake lunge. The moment her rival began responding to the attack with a customary twist away, she crashed a simultaneous reverse knife-edge across its throat and swept its legs from under it. The moment the master vampire hit the ground, Faith was straddling it, knees across its shoulders. Ignoring the beast’s frantic flailing, Faith slammed her stake deep into its heart.

The undead dusted with a pleasing flourish, leaving Faith to look up and see her friends had dealt with Noctus’ five minions. Faith winced, but not without two civilians paying the price, a courting couple’s corpses adorning the floor, their blood pooling on the tiles. Faith rose and looked around the destroyed café. "That’s another of the Council’s bastard assassins dealt with. What’s the plan now?"

Xander wiped dust off himself before replying. "We buy a people carrier, find ourselves a well-lit park or parking lot, spend the night there, and then go to the forger in the morning."

"Oh great." Every one turned to Kennedy at her groan. "A night with those two in moods." Kennedy looked at Tara and Faith in turn. "In an enclosed space. This sounds like a real carnival."

"Is this the place?" Kennedy queried.

"It’s the address the email gave," Xander replied as he inspected the crumbling cottage on the city’s western outskirts.

"How good is this forger anyway?"

Xander glanced at Kennedy, and then the stonily silent Tara and Faith. The witch and the Slayer were both determinedly uncommunicative after yesterday’s argument over Hector and Tara’s orphanages. He returned his eyes to the still talking potential and shrugged. "Brill recommends her as someone who the CIA used for off the book operations."

"Pretty competent then," the potential commented.

"Yeah," Xander agreed as he climbed out of the car, shooting eyes left and right as he did so, the early morning sun already warm enough to make him sweat. Xander glanced over his shoulder to see the others had likewise climbed out.

Xander led the group up the paved stoned path, eyes rising at the very modern intercom fixed beside and the CCTV camera above the doorway of the traditional-looking stone building. After clearing his throat, Xander lowered his head and pressed on the intercom button. "Hello, it’s Andrew Hawkins."

A woman’s voice crackled through the intercom. "Yes! What do you want!"

"Um," Xander took a second to gather his thoughts in the wake of the woman’s attitude. "Uncle Brill sent me to see a niece and pick up a package for his holiday," he replied, repeating the code phrase the forger had included in her email.

After a second the forger spoke again. "Hold the boy up to the camera." Xander glanced towards Faith. The sultry brunette shrugged before doing as requested, lifting the squalling baby over her head. Something buzzed behind the door. "Door’s open," the voice within reported. "Come in."

Xander raised an eyebrow at the woman’s continuing hostile tone but obeyed, stepping inside a narrow, dimly-lit hallway. Even in the half-light Xander couldn’t help but fail to notice the door’s steel reinforced inner and three separate locks, clearly this woman took her security very seriously. The moment the door clicked shut, a brunette in her mid-thirties with her hair cut in a bun stepped out of a side door with a shotgun in hand. "Oh boy," Faith drawled, "I bet the delivery boys love you with a greeting like that."

"Have you got the money?" the forger demanded.

Xander threw a bulky manila envelope to the woman’s feet. "Seventy thousand? That’s a lot for one person’s papers."

"Kid’s papers are harder to falsify," the woman explained as she dropped another slimmer envelope by his feet. "Babies grow so quickly, you have to be really specific on age. Plus it was a rush job. And I am the best in the business." Eyes still fixed on the woman, Xander nodded towards Kennedy. The potential crouched down and picked up the envelope. "Now you’ve got what you wanted, get out. I never want to see any of you again. I don’t do repeat jobs."

"Geez," Faith drawled, "and there’s me thinkin’ of invitin’ you on the ten year reunion tour."

"Faith, don’t annoy the nice forger with a shotgun," Xander reproved before backing to the door, the others leading the way.

He was last through the door. His eyes widened as a sword-wielding figure leapt out of the shadows to the right. Xander spun to face the would-be attacker, instinctively drawing a sword from the Always Pocket. His arm muscles writhed and rippled as he brought the weapon up to block the sneak attack.

He gasped as he recognised his assailant as the swordsman from Pinnear’s house. "Kalybas! But that’s impossible, I killed you!"

The short man smiled as he attempted a thrust at Xander’s heart. "You know it’s more than possible, Harris! Just think!"

Xander twisted away from the thrust, the blade sliding past his chest, and waved Faith back as he did so. "You’re an Immortal?" he guessed as he watched his adversary.

"Ah, how astute!" Kalybas smirked mockingly before attempting a back-handed, upwards slash. "It will be quite a feather in my cap to kill," the Immortal scowled as Xander sidestepped his attack, retaliating with a thrust that forced Kalybas on the back-foot, "the man who defeated Draco."

"I’m not dead yet!" Xander replied as the Immortal blocked his thrust, swords clanging together.

"All in good time!" Kalybas replied with a diagonally-upwards backhanded slash that Xander jumped back from before charging back with a downwards swing, murderously intent on cleaving in the rival swordsman’s head.

Kalybas’ blade parried the blow inches from its target while the Immortal simultaneously kicked out at Xander’s legs. Xander grunted as the blow connected, pain jarring through his shin. Rather than fall back under the assault, Xander forced himself forward, leading with a lunge.

"Aaaaah!" Kalybas leaned back when Xander’s blade thrust at him, the point of his sword tearing through the Immortal’s jacket, his sword coming away slicked with crimson. Despite his discomfort, the Immortal still managed to step outside Xander’s back-handed slash.

Kalybas dropped to one knee and thrust up. Xander kicked the blade away while back-hand slicing at his rival’s head. The swordsman dropped into a forward roll that carried him behind Xander.

Xander barely managed to spin around in time to bring his blade down to knock aside Kalybas’ attempted attack. The Immortal snarled as he leapt up and at him. Xander grunted as the smaller man crashed shoulder-first into him, pain flaring through his chest.

Xander twisted away from the Immortal’s thrust at his torso. Xander’s knee came up, crashing into the swordsman’s forearm, knocking his attack off-target. Kalybas’ eyes hardened as he back-handed slashed at Xander’s mid-section.

Xander grunted as pain shot through his upper hip, the Immortal’s blade ricocheting off it. Ignoring his companions’ shocked screams he feigned a stumble to one knee. Kalybas grinned and raised his blade overhead.

And Xander surged up and past his opponent, sword lashing backwards and down, blade biting deep into his rival’s hamstring. Blood gushed as the Immortal crashed to the ground. Xander kicked the man’s blade away before stepping over his downed rival. "There can be only one," he smiled darkly as he recalled the tragic truth behind ‘The Game’, "and it’s not going to be you." His sword lashed down, decapitating his rival.

Xander leapt back from the corpse as lightning coiled and shot out from his twisting, arching corpse. "Whoa!" Faith caught him as his injured leg buckled under him. "Nice light show, but let’s get out of here ‘fore someone else tries to kill us, ‘kay?"

"You’ve gotta make sure his head’s supported properly and you’ve gotta-."

"I’ve held a baby before, Faith," her uncle softly reproved, a fondle smile on his creased face as he cradled a gurgling Hector, "I remember holding you like this, just about twenty years ago."

"There’s an image."

Faith ignored the brat’s mutterings to stare worriedly at Hector. The answer of what to do with Hec had come to her on the flight back to the states. It was obvious really, Uncle Spense didn’t have the press followin’ his every move like Ton did, and she knew from her own childhood what a good parent Uncle Spense could be if given the chance, and she could visit any time she wanted.

Yeah, perfect. So why her eyes watering incessantly? It must be grit in the air, it was a real fuckin’ pain. "You’ve gotta swing him from side to side, but only gentle-."

"I’m sure we’ll learn Faith."

Faith glanced at the shrink sat on the sofa beside her Uncle and nodded uncertainly. "Yeah, ‘course you will."

"And of course we’ll expect his favourite Auntie Faith and her friends to come and see him all the time," Uncle Spense looked up from talking to Hector to look at her, his eyes warmly sympathetic. "Not that you needed an excuse to come here."

"Course not," Faith tried and failed to smile, the lump in her throat threatening to choke her. Her heart jumped and stomach twisted, oh fuck, she was gonna lose it completely.

And then as if by magic Xander was there, his hand on her shoulder somehow lending her the strength she needed to hold it together. "Brill and Angela have made creating an identity for Hector a priority. You’ll be getting a birth certificate, adoption papers, and all the necessary paperwork within the week," Xander said. "I’d advise you stick to the cover story even with Hector when he’s older."

"Then he’s really ours," Susan gasped, the shrink’s own cheeks streaked with tears.

"He’s really yours," Xander said. "We’ve got some toys, a cot, car seat, that sort of thing, I’ll bring it all in while you all say good-bye."

Faith waited until her friends had all said their goodbyes, even Ken letting out a tremulous sob when she hugged before taking the baby in her arms and forcing a smile as he reached up to her, fingers stroking her face and tugging at her hair. "You be a good boy, you hear?" she hoarsely whispered before leaning in and gently kissing his cheek. "You’re a little angel already, always will be to me. You be a good boy, and I’ll come and see you all the time, and bring you loads and loads of presents."

* * *

Xander smiled as he entered their hotel room, purposefully choosing to look away as his girl-friend wiped at her eyes. "I was thinking about going down to the restaurant, seeing if we could clear the buffet out between us."

"Not hungry."

"Okay." Xander hid a grimace as he turned back to the door. This was serious, his girl off her food. However the worse thing you could ever do with his girl was push, when she was ready to let it out, to share or lash out, he’d just have to be there. "In that case I’ll go down and have something to eat. If you’re asleep when I get back, I’ll take the couch." He reached out for the door.

"Xan," his girl-friend’s voice was huskier than normal, pain scratching it, "I was wonderin’-."

"I set up a trust fund for Hec on the plane back over here, he gets the interest off a five million dollar trust fund from the age of eighteen and the principal sum upon his graduation of any college. If he hasn’t graduated by the age of twenty-five, the money returns to the Brotherhood."

"Thanks stud, but I wasn’t gonna ask that," Faith paused. "What ya gonna do ‘bout the Council?"

"Oh." The concern Xander felt for his girl was burnt out by his cold rage. It seemed his first slaughter of the Council hadn’t gone nearly far enough, a mistake that he’d have to rectify whenever he got the chance. "I wouldn’t worry about them," he replied through gritted teeth. "There’ll be a reckoning down the line." Xander turned back to the door.

"Maybe you could hold me for a little while."

"Sure honey." Xander smiled softly as he turned back to the tiny figure and knelt on the bed beside her, his arm looping around her waist. "It is after all my second favourite thing in the world."

Faith let out a choked off laugh. "Don’t need to ask what’s your first."

* * *

Milo sipped at his wine, a quite delightful glass of 1818 Château Lafite Rothschild, as he read his reports on his operation in South Africa. On the surface it was very bad news indeed, four of his hired assassins had died at the hands of the Mithras Quartet, one of them had died at one of his hireling’s own hands, and the sixth had fled, persumably never to confront the Quartet again.

But beneath the surface there were pleasing ripples.

Yes, the assassins had been summarily defeated, without so much as a casualty to the all-conquering re-born god and his formidable companions. However he’d ensured that Harris would be made aware that the Council were behind the attack, widening the already vast schism between the Brotherhood and the Council. He didn’t doubt that such a man as Alexander Harris would check his facts before reacting, but that was to be expected. He’d laid a convincing trail that led all the way back to the Council and its esteemed leader. Not even the Brotherhood’s venerated hackers would be able to discover his duplicity.

After all, what was the point of being a Chaos Lord if one wasn’t an expert in deceit and double-dealing? Milo started slightly then relaxed as he realised the sound he’d heard was his own unbidden laughter echoing around his office.

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