FIC: MC 32 Jan ’01 The Feud (1/?)

Warsaw, Poland

Marie’s eyes shot open, her heart pounding with a certainty that only one of her blood could have.  She looked around the small, nondescript motel room she was staying in. They were coming for her.  Even now she could feel them racing up the hotel’s threadbare stairs.    

More than two decades had passed, four continents, and twenty-one countries had been travelled.  But still they came.

Fluidly rising, she hurriedly grabbed what she could of her equipment, grateful for her enforced lifetime habit of sleeping dressed.  She snatched up the stool by the window and flung it through the window.  Glass exploded outwards, showering any unfortunate passing by below.  She gingerly climbed through the second-floor window and onto the outside fire escape.  Suddenly a shadow lunged at her, faster than any man had the right to move.

“Uh!” Marie twisted away from the charge, stake rising up to pierce her would-be attacker’s chest.  She smiled as her attacker’s mouth opened in shock.  “That’s been tried before, you didn’t seriously expect me to fall for that?” she taunted as her assailant exploded into ash.

Her head snapped to the right at the sound of a foot crashing into her locked door, once again she was thankful for her lifetime habits, this one of stacking objects in front of her door.  It could just give her the extra seconds she needed. 

Turning her attention to her escape, she started down the ladder, forcing herself to relax, knowing that any haste could well end in her falling.  A fall from two floors up wouldn’t be fatal, but by the time her enemy got through with her she’d wish it was.

As she dropped to the cobbles, she heard the sound of the hotel door crashing open above.  After a quick, instinctive look up, she turned on her heel and set off, racing through the crooked, winding streets of Poland’s industrial capital.

As she ran, one treacherous thought dominated, plagued her.  Why did she fight it, why did she continue the futile war?  For over a hundred years the beast, the demon, had remorselessly hunted her bloodline, until now she was the only left, all alone in the night. 

It would be so much easier, and so less painful, to end it all.  Just some pills and…

“No,” she shook her head, shoving the seditious idea aside.  For well over a hundred years her family had stood against the darkness, sacrificed everything.  She would not betray all her name stood for.  She’d kill some more of the blood-suckers before it was her time.

Realising she was reaching a more populated area, she slowed and took a breath, her mind whirling as she considered her options.  She was now in an area dominated by theatres, clubs, brothels, and bars of varying degrees of class.  All around were strobe lighting signs advertising this form of entertainment and that, the air filling with blasts of American pop music erupting from the near-by establishments even as patrons spilled out onto the road, desperate to get out of the chill and into another club to continue their partying.

A burly bearded man stepped into her path, a lecherous look in his muddy brown eyes.  “Hey beautiful,” the man licked his fat lips, stepping into her way as she attempted to step around him, “I’ve got plenty of Zloty, how about we go have a good time?”  Deciding she didn’t have the time to spare to talk her way out of the situation, she butted the man in his over-hanging gut while simultaneously kicking him in the inside of his left knee. “Oooow!” the moment her harasser began to double up, her head came up, the crown of her head colliding with his face.  “Gaah!” the man’s head snapped backwards, claret flying out of his mouth as he fell onto his back, body shuddering with pain. 

“Hey X,” the husky voice of an American floated to her ears, glancing over her shoulder, she saw a raven-tressed sexpot perhaps ten years her junior stood with a pretty honey-blonde and handsome young man shooting her admiring glances.  “Girl’s got game.”

A hollow feeling formed in her stomach even as she ducked into an alley between two bars.  The admiring, friendly look from the young woman reminded her all she’d had to give up, the chance for friends, to be a part of something.  Instead, she had a life filled with loneliness, fear, and suspicion. 

Looking around, she realised that the alley’s lights had blown, leaving her in darkness.  Reaching out a suddenly sweaty hand, she felt her way out of the alley to come out at the back of the party district and into a deserted industrial area.

For a second she stood there, mind racing as she ran through and discarded plan after plan as either too risky or far-fetched.  She smiled as she noticed a sign hanging over a building across the road, illuminated by one of the few street lights that hadn’t been vandalised.  “Sewage plant,” she whispered.  In there, they might not be able track her scent, she could hide there until morning, and then run, use the daylight hours to put some distance between them and her. It wasn’t much of a plan, but, she half-smiled, it beat anything else she could think of.

Her smile disappeared as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up on end.  Even as she began to turn, they materialised out of the shadows, surrounding her.  “Eight?” she forced her voice to remain steady.  “Should I be flattered?”

“No,” their leader, a short Slavic-looking fellow, smirked.  “You should be scared.”

“Not me!” she leapt towards the leader only to twist at the waist at the last second, and stake an unsuspecting female to her left.  Dropping her stake as the demon disintegrated, she pulled out another.  Sensing another demon charging her from her left, she allowed his haymakers to fly over her, by dropping into a crouch.  Now at eye-level with the man’s crotch, she slammed an uppercut into his groin.  Even as the man gasped, she thrust her stake through his foot and rose.

Right into a stunning left to the face.  Dazed, she fell onto her back, her attacker smirked as he reached down, yellow eyes glowing and hands grabbing at her throat.  The demon’s eyes widened when she thrust a stake deep into his chest.

Seeing another vampire racing at her through the exploding dust, she kicked out, her foot smashing against his knee.  The demon stumbled, falling back.  Marie attempted to rise.  “Aaaaaaah!” she screamed as a fiery pain erupted in her groin, the vampire she’d punched in the groin repaying the fever with a gleeful stamp.  Eyes watering and stomach cramping, she was helpless to prevent the other demons racing in and kicking her into a bloody unconsciousness.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

Doulos watched for a few seconds, enjoying the sight of the defiant bitch being beaten, his fellow servants giving her an unmerciful beating.  Finally though he spoke.  “Stop.”  His cold tone was enough to make all five vampires pull back immediately, their eyes instantly flickering to him.  “Our master wants her alive remember?”  The vampires parted as he walked through them to the bloodied woman.  Crouching down by her side, he took a handful of hair and yanked her head up, a smirk playing on his lips.  Unconscious but still alive, although soon she’d wish she wasn’t.  Dropping her head to the pavement, he looked towards the others.  “Tie her up and ready her for the journey.”

“You know,” a deep voice came out of the darkness behind them, “if I was a betting man, I’d say that she’s going nowhere with you.”

FIC: MC 32 Jan ’01 The Feud (2/?)

Warsaw, Poland

“That idiot!” Xander slammed the club door shut before looking down at his bruised knuckles.  “That stupid idiot!”

Faith chuckled beside her man.  Xan had decided they needed to go on a whistle-stop tour to drum up some world-wide members of the Brotherhood, a trip that was a depressing failure to say the least.  Their contacts in Russia and the Ukraine had turned up dead, while they’d barely gotten out of Romania in one piece, the groups there little more than feuding gangsters.  The Polish contact though, they’d found him.  Unfortunately the meeting had lasted about five minutes before the former GROM officer had laughed in Xander’s face, saying he’d never work for a boy who looked like he didn’t shave yet.  Things had gotten worse when the Pole had suggested that although he wasn’t interested in a partnership with Xander, he’d be more than interested in a coupling with either her or Tara, or both of them.  With all the recent failures, X hadn’t been in the best mood, and the former Polish Special Forces officer’s attitude had given him an outlet for his frustrations.  In short, X had beaten the crap out of him. 

All in all, she couldn’t wait for Hungary, Serbia, and the Czech Republic.  “I think the fractured jaw, three cracked ribs, and broken nose you gave him made your point for him, X.”  Faith looked around, a grin forming on her lips.  “Hey, we’re in the club district,” Faith nudged her man with her hip, “might as well.”

Tara groaned.  “Early night?”

“Lightweight!” Faith grabbed her sister’s hand and began to drag her into the melee.  “Whoa,” she stopped as she noticed a tall, hot-looking brunette dressed in a pair of crumpled leathers and a matching waistcoat over a black silk blouse being hassled by a fat drunk maybe twice her size.  She started forward to intervene only to halt when the woman took the jackass down with a brutal efficiency.  “Hey, X,” she commented, “girl’s got game.” 

“I noticed,” Xander replied as the woman glanced at them, having obviously heard their exchange, before hurrying away from her groaning would-be molester.

”Bullshit you noticed!” Faith accused with a laugh, “you were too busy checking out her behind.”  Faith looked around the busy street.  “Now which-.”  Faith’s head snapped left and right, brow furrowing.  “You see where the babe went?”

“Yeah,” Xander pointed to an alley between two bars, “why?”

“Not checkin’ her out hey?” Faith teased as she started towards the alley.  “I sense something, ya know that Slayer sense thing, she’s in trouble.”

“I wouldn’t like to be the one who messed with her,” Tara commented.

”X would,” Faith grinned before turning serious.  “Seeing as I sensed it, I’m bettin’ it wasn’t human.”  It took them a while to cut through the crowd and reach the mouth of the darkened alley, by which time the mystery woman had disappeared deep inside it.  “Damn,” Faith growled, “I just hope the fucking thing doesn’t branch off or we’ve lost her.”

“Have faith, Faith,” Xander quipped.

”You do, usually for about four hours straight every night to judge from the noise next door,” Tara added.  Both of them stopped and stared at the witch.  “What?” Tara demanded.  “Do you think I’m deaf?”  The witch shook her head.  “Come on, she’s getting away.”

After a second she and Xander started off after the witch.  “You’re a bad influence,” Xander accused. 

“Me,” Faith hissed, “why is it always my fault?”

“I think you just answered that question yourself,” Xander replied.

All traces of hilarity fled as they reached the mouth of the alley and found a group of six humans, no vampires, surrounding a crumpled body.  “Vamps,” she hissed.

Xander nodded before speaking.  “You know if I was a betting man, I’d say that she’s going nowhere with you.”

                                    *                                  *                                  *

Doulos turned, eyes widening in incredulity as he stared at the intruders, his demonically-enhanced vision cutting through the inky darkness, to see the good-looking teen and his two beautiful companions stood there.  Never mind they were vampires, what sort of idiot decides to impress his women by single-handedly taking on six men to rescue a damsel in distress?  Shaking his head, he waved an uncaring hand at his five companions.  “Kill the man and turn the girls.  But be quick about it.”

                                    *                                  *                                  *

Faith was moving before the vampires did.  Leaping forward, she caught the nearest with a heel to the instep, the sound of bone shattering and his pained bellow shattering the brief silence that had followed the demon’s instructions.  He fell face-forward, she ended his existence with downward staking through his back.  Blocking another demon’s right fist on her forearm, she stepped forward and butted the demon full in the face.  Dazed, he stumbled backwards, flinging a right that she easily ducked en-route to smashing her stake home.  Seeing the group’s leader, a short, rat-faced guy with a straggly grey beard sliding towards the unconscious girl, Faith blocked his path and shook her head.  The demon’s eyes widened.  “My master will kill you all,” he hissed.

”Your master ain’t here,” Faith smiled.  “I am.  Wanna try?”  The vampire snarled before leaping into the shadows.  “Guess not.”

                                    *                                  *                                  *

Xander stood motionless until the two vampires flanking him were just feet away.  Then he smiled.  The moment each of the vampires stopped and shot one another confused glances, he drew a pair of Desert Eagles and shot them in the kneecaps.  Cordite clinging to his throat and ears ringing to the gunshots, he walked over to the crumpled, screaming demons and staked them.  “That’s cheatin’, X,” Faith reproved.

“That’s being smart, girl-friend,” Xander snarked.  “You might wanna try it some time.”

                                    *                                  *                                  *

Tara sobbed in fright as the vampire approached, stumbling backwards.  Fangs bared, the demon leapt at her.  And right onto her concealed stake. “Works every time,” She gloated into the demon’s face a second before it exploded into dust.

“How bad do you think she’s hurt, Tar?”

Tara hurried over to Faith crouched by the mystery woman.  All at once her breath was taken away by the stranger’s beauty, long flowing raven locks, full lips, curvy body, and fine, perfectly-symmetrical features.  Realising Faith was shooting her one of her smug, ‘I’ve got you made’ looks, she gathered herself.  “Not bad, just bruised and battered.”

“In that case,” Xander lifted the limp woman into his arms, “we had best get out of here and back to our rooms before reinforcements turn up.”

                                    *                                  *                      *

“Aaaah,” he shoved his bride off his knee and re-arranged his clothing when the door of his throne room flew open and a flustered-looking Doulos rushed in, trailing mud on his blood-red carpet, “and where is the daughter?  In my dungeons already?”

“N….no master,” Doulos quaked and trembled at the bottom of his dais.  “W…we ran into problems.”

“And why did you not stay and fight?” he queried as his minion finished his report, an anger slowly building within him.  The loss of his childes was unimportant, even eight of them, they were all of little significant power and easy replaced.  But the escape of the last of the line that had blighted him for over a century, no that was a different matter entirely.

”I…I thought that you would want to know of this threat.”

“No,” he shook his head.  “You came back because you were frightened, scared of the girl.  And you know what was even more stupid than coming back here to tell me you’d failed?” A long silence followed his question.  He raised an impatient eyebrow.  “Well?”

Eyes wide with fright, his minion shook his head.  “N…no?”

“Being more frightened of her than me.”  In a half-second he was by Doulos’ side.  The demon’s mouth opened in a plea.  Before his minion could speak, he had his fist buried deep in the younger vampire’s chest.  Even as he pulled the organ out, Doulos exploded into ash.  “A Slayer,” he smiled as he sat back on his throne, bloody fingers steepling together in thought.  “It’s been too long since I tasted that sweet vintage, too long by far.”

FIC: MC 32 Jan ’01 The Feud (3/?)

“Get the door, Faith,” Xander huffed.  “My arms are kinda full.”

“Sure hon,” Faith had to resist the urge to crack wise about her man insisting he carry the mystery chick the three and half miles to their isolated apartment.  Sometimes X forgot who wore the pants and kicked the most ass in their relationship.  And where had his macho bullshit gotten him?  Red-faced and all sweaty, that’s where.

‘Course that wasn’t a condition she was exactly averse to…

Chuckling to herself, Faith unlocked the apartment’s front door.  It had definitely been a smart idea of X’s to change from renting hotel rooms to hiring cottages or apartments whenever possible.  Made for less prying eyes that way.  Explaining away bruised faces and mystery unconscious women was kinda difficult.

Reaching inside, she turned on the lounge light, illuminating a charmingly old-fashioned house that kinda looked like something out of a Grimm fairy tale.  Not that she knew what one of them was, of course. “Thanks, Faith,” Xander hurried across the rugged floor before carefully lying the unconscious woman on the sofa and stepping back.  “I wonder who she is?”

“She’s unconscious X,” Faith patiently explained.  “She can’t tell us.”

Her man’s glare bounced off her.  “Well she’ll have some id on her,” Tara pointed out.

“I’ll look,” Faith volunteered before stepping down and crouching before the stranger.  Looking over her shoulder, she smirked at her companions.  “Like I’m gonna let you two pervs paw up this poor defenceless woman,” she shook her head and tutted.  “The people I travel with, no standards at all!”

“I used to have standards,” Xander sounded affronted.  Mission accomplished then.

”So did I,” Tara agreed. “ I wonder what happened?”

“I can have a few guesses.”

“Ya wanna get any for the next few nights, Harris, don’t,” she warned.  Her brow furrowed as she opened the older woman’s waistcoat.  “Well she’s definitely in the demon hunting business.”

”What makes you say that?” Xander asked.

”This,” Faith held up the baldric she’d just unfastened from around the mystery woman’s curvy body.  The baldric was made of calf-skin, and damn fine material too, with enough slots to hold no less than six stakes, except two were empty, probably meaning she’d killed two vamps before they’d got there.  Not bad at all.

“And what about ID?” Tara asked.

”Oh yeah,” Faith opened the gym-bag their guest had been carrying when they’d rescued her.  “There’s tons of it.”  She peered from one document to another. 

“Who is she?” Xander pressed impatiently.

“Welllllllll,” Faith’s nose wrinkled contemplatively, “she could be Eva Servus of Austria.”  She tossed a passport over her shoulder.  “Or she could be Eve Hamilton of New Zealand.”  Another passport flew over her shoulder.  “Or she could be Evita Perro of Mexico.”  That passport joined the others in a pile behind her.  “Or she could be Elina Apollo of Greece.”  The last passport joined the rest of the floor.

”She’s carrying false id, a lot of it.”

“Gee,” Faith stared at her man, “you’re on a roll for pointing out the obvious tonight, aren’t ya?”

“We’ll have to wait until she’s woken up,” Tara put in.

”And I see it’s wicked contagious,” Faith smirked.  “Say, can’t you read her aura, see if she’s a good guy?”

Tara shrugged.  “It’s difficult to get an accurate reading if someone’s unconscious, not everything’s in balance.”

“Helps to get a reading if you don’t stare down her top,” Faith pointed out.  Her words were rewarded by another blush.  Sis was so easy.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

Marie’s eyes struggled open. Her vision blurred, she looked around, confused by her well-lit, comfortable surroundings a million miles away from the gloomy prison she’d expected. “Whoa,” she distantly heard a throaty rasp, “she’s awake, X.”

“Now who’s pointing out the obvious?”

“Funny bastard.”

 

By now Marie could see clearly enough to recognise her companions as the trio who’d seen her take down the would-be molester.  But why were they here and what had happened to the vampires following her?

Discarding such matters as unimportant, she rose on slightly shaky legs, looked around, and saw the door.  “I’ve got to go,” she declared before setting off towards the exit.

“Whoa.” All at once the brunette was in front of her.  “Not yet, we need some answers.”

“No time!” Panicked, she threw an overhand right at the younger woman.  Her eyes widened when the girl leaned backwards at the waist, then grabbed the wrist of her swinging arm and twisted, flipping her onto her back.  Before she had chance to react, the younger woman had a foot pressed firmly on her throat.

“Ya’ve been fighting vamps too long, makes ya soft,” the girl peered down at her, brown orbs hard as stone.  “We helped ya ungrateful ass, never come at me again.”

“Faith, she’s just confused let her up.”

All at once the anger left the brunette’s eyes, leaving them soft, beautiful.  “Sure sis.”  She gasped when the raven-haired teen grabbed her by her shoulder and yanked her to her feet before pushing her down onto the sofa.  “I’m Faith, he’s Xander, and the lech,” the raven-haired teen grinned at the blonde’s outraged protests, “is my sis, Tara.  Who are you, and what’s so special that eight vamps would be chasing you?”

After a second, she nodded, realising she had little choice about the matter.  “My name is Marie Van Helsing-.”

“Oh come on!” exclaimed Xander.  “You’re delusional!  The Van Helsings are made-up characters from Bram Stoker’s Dracula!”

The raven-haired beauty shot the young man an amused look.  “How would you know, X?”

“I read the book!”  The two beauties stared sceptically at the young man.  “Hey, after I learnt about vampires and stuff, I figured I had to learn as much as possible.”  The two girls didn’t shift in their stares.  “Well okay,” the by-now wilting youth shrugged.  “I watched the movie.”

Finally the coal-eyed beauty snorted.  “Now that I believe.”  The raven-tressed American turned back to her, ignoring her boyfriend’s muttered protestations.  “Okay, so what’s this bullshit?”

“She’s telling the truth, Faith,” Tara interrupted.

Both Xander and Faith’s eyes widened.  “O…okay,” Xander finally managed to speak.   “I suppose the vampire who set those other blood-suckers after you is….”

“Dracula,” she added.

Xander groaned.  “Every where I go,” he glared at Faith.  “Before I met you-.”

 

“Your life was wicked boring,” Faith finished for the youth before turning to Marie.  “So spill.”

“As,” she looked towards the youth, trying but failing to remember his name.

“Xander,” the teen supplied.

“Instantly forgettable as always, X,” Faith snarked.

”As Xander said, Dracula was a book written about my family and Dracula by Bram Stoker.  But it was a sanitised semi-autographical account and not the fiction that everyone believed,” Marie’s explanation was interrupted by a succession of groans.  “Seven generations ago, my ancestor Abraham Van Helsing encountered his first vampire as a young man in 1863.  Fortunately for him, the Slayer of that time was in the vicinity and slayed the vampire before it could harm Abraham.  My ancestor was a puritan and thought of vampires as an abomination before God and from that day Abraham hunted vampires for the next twenty years, his greatest accomplishment the banishing of Dracula in 1878.  In 1890, a young writer by the name of Bram Stoker, aware of the rumours surrounding my ancestor attempted to interview him but was rebuffed.  However Stoker was persistent and finally the two men came to an arrangement.  Anything that was published regarding vampires would be presented fiction rather than fact and they’d split any profits from the book 50/50 so the Van Helsings could continue the fight against the undead.”

“But then,” Marie’s breath caught.  “Dracula returned.  My ancestor was an elderly man by 1910, seventy years old.  It was now his sons and grand-sons that continued the fight.  But it made no difference to Dracula.  Every Van Helsing he could find was ruthlessly slaughtered in vengeance not only for his defeat, but also for the publicity of it.  Since that time, Dracula and his minions have hunted my family down in a hundred year war of attrition, until,” her breath caught again, “until I am the last of my family.”

FIC:  MC 32 Jan ’01 The Feud (4/?)

“Dracula, huh?”  Faith was predictably the first to break the silence that followed the end of Marie’s tale.  “Another day, another vamp-.”

“Not just another vampire!” Marie shocked them all with her near-hysterical scream.  Turning, they saw the woman was wide-eyed with fear.  “The Count is far more than that!  No hunter has ever slain him in over a thousand years!  Even his own kind fear him. ”

”Word to the wise,” Faith said a second after the outburst.  “Not a hunter, a Slayer.”  Xander hid a groan, he knew full well that the woman had just offended Faith’s sense of pride.  Trouble was sure to follow.  Faith turned to Xander.  “Drac, what’s the 411 on him?”

“You can’t!” the woman shook her head.  “You’ve already done too much!  This is my problem, you should leave here before he finds you-.”

“We don’t run, we don’t hide!”

Xander groaned as Faith’s eyes hardened.  Faith’s desire to help was clashing with the older woman’s panic.  It was almost comical to watch except it was not doing anything either to calm Marie down or to get anywhere near the ‘411’ as Faith put it.  “Marie,” he interrupted before Marie could reply, “you must be exhausted from everything.  Why don’t you stay here while me and the others go in the other room?  Give you some peace, we’ll talk when you’re rested.”

 

After a second, the woman nodded and smiled wearily.  “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Great.”  Seeing Faith’s glower, he shot her a warning look before taking her by her shoulders, and guiding her into the bedroom, Tara following behind.  “Tara, can you shut the -.”  He smiled as the witch pushed the door shut.  “Thanks!”

”Jesus, X!” Faith spun to face him and exploded the moment the door shut.  “You can’t be thinking of just letting her go.”

“First of,” Xander kept his tone calm in the wake of his girl-friend’s anger, “she’s not our prisoner.  It’s her choice to stay or go.  Second, you were just getting her more agitated by arguing, sometimes the path of the least resistance is the easiest to traverse.”

“He’s been eating fortune cookies again.”

Xander ignored Faith’s mutter.  He’d thought it sounded profound.  “And thirdly,” he pulled the computer out of the Always Pocket and passed it to Tara, “of course we can’t make her stay.  But equally she can’t stop us going after Dracula.  But we need more information, Tara?”

”Discs?” He passed the vampire disc over to the witch.  “Thanks.”  For the next few seconds the air was filled with the sound of beeps and keyboard-tapping as he and a still brooding Faith stared unflinchingly into one another’s eyes, and Tara sat cross-legged on the bed, working at the computer.  “Oh, got him.  It’s not good.”

“Spill the juice, sis!” Faith looked away from him, her abrupt turn clearly indicating she’d already dismissed him from consideration.  Never argue with a Slayer, they liked to get their own way.

And sulked horribly when they didn’t.  Xander often wondered if Kendra would have been the same if he’d got to know her.

“Dracula was originally a ninth century Hungarian nobleman-.”

“Not Romanian?” Xander blurted out, raising his hands when Tara turned her fiercest glare on him.  Which meant he felt like he was being mauled by a really vicious hamster.  “Sorry,” he apologised, knowing that like Giles, Tara didn’t like being interrupted when lecturing.  “Go on.”

“Called Dezzo Sereg.  Although only a minor noble, he was a major thinker of his time, with a bent towards alchemy and the occult when he was turned by a vampire whose name isn’t recorded.”  Tara paused before looking at them, disquiet flickering in her gentle eyes.  “Over the next four centuries he subjugated or flat-out killed all the major vampires in eastern Europe.  Soon, he had a kingdom that included what is now Hungary, Czech Republic, Yugoslavia, Poland, and Romania in addition to huge chunks of what used to be Russia.  Then, some time in the early 15^th century, the Blood Wars erupted.”

Xander exchanged a troubled look with Faith, their earlier disagreement already diminishing in importance at this worrying biography.  “The Blood Wars?” he prompted.

“At this time, Europe was split into three kingdoms.  Dracula’s eastern realm, the Master’s,” Xander groaned, “of Britain, northern France, Germany, Holland, Austria, and Switzerland.”  Tara paused, glancing towards Faith, before continuing.  “And Kaktosis,” Xander heard his girl-friend’s hiss and squeezed her arm comfortingly, “who ran southern France, Greece, Italy, Portugal, and Spain.  For some reason, a century long war broke out between the three, resulting in the deaths of dozens and dozens of vampire deaths.”

“Dozens doesn’t sound like much of a war, sis,” Faith commented.

”And how many vampires are there per people, one for every ten thousand?  One for every twenty?” Tara pointed out.  “When you also take into account that demographically there were far less people -.”

”Okay,” Faith conceded with a nod.  “Get the point, no need to club me over the head with it.”

Tara smiled.  “Sometimes I think that’s the only thing that helps.”

“Oooh, cat-fight.  Can there be whipped cream?” Xander coughed when both girls turned their glares on him.  “Sorry, you were saying?”

“In 1535 Kaktosis was the first of the three to capitulate, running for the New World.  Fifteen years later the Master followed him.”

A long silence followed Tara’s words.  “So this cat’s so bad that even the Master and Kaktosis run from him?” Faith shuddered.  “Sounds like Van-Lady was right, this vamp ain’t the run of the mill.  Any more juice on him?”

Tara nodded.  “Since then, he’s worked in the shadows, ruling his realms through intermediaries, only bothering to strike out when one of his underlings would either fail or try and revolt against him.”

“Okay,” Xander raised a tentative hand.  “What I don’t get is-.”

“Most things,” snarked Faith.

“Why he put up with Darla, Angelus, and the rest of them rampaging through Europe?” Xander chose to ignore his girl-friend’s barb, judging that if she was able to make jokes at his expense she was feeling at least a little less argumentative.

Tara shrugged.  “They were anarchists, just in it for the carnage, the violence.  Their actions meant most of the demon hunters of the time concentrated on them, rather than going after him, meaning he had a freer hand.  My guess was he enjoyed their work while knowing they’d never try and take over his operation.  If they had, he’d have ended them.”

“Jeez,” Faith spoke a second before he did, “you’re just a regular ray of sunshine today aren’t ya sis?  Anything else on this asshole?  Other than he’s awesomely strong and has an army of vamps backing him up?”

“He has castles throughout Europe,” Tara reported.  “Eight in all.  And he has a black carriage coach that he travels the night in, drawn by a quartet of Hell-Hounds,” both of them groaned.  Tara pouted.  “You asked,” she pointed out.  “And the Brides Of Dracula-.”

”See,” Faith broke in, “that sounds like a man.  Not ‘bride’, ‘brides’.  Men, never satisfied.”

Xander ignored Faith’s mini-rant, choosing to stare at Tara.  After a second the witch continued.  “Three sisters, all seers, from Germany and renowned across Europe for their beauty, he turned in the early 18th century.  And,” Tara looked up, face pale, “he’s done a dark arts enchantment limiting his vulnerability to Slaying.  He can only be slain in one place.”

Xander groaned as his spirits sank.  “Let’s hear it.”

“Whichever castle he’s staying at.”  After a second Tara continued, explaining further as if she needed to.  “He can’t be killed when he’s travelling with a skeleton guard.  He has to be hunted down in his own lair.”

FIC:  MC 32 Jan ’01 The Feud (5/?)

“Shit, if that ain’t one of those catch twenty-one situations -.”

“Twenty-two.”

“Whatever,” Faith glared at her boyfriend.  “I don’t know what is.  So, whenever he leaves his castles, he’s invulnerable, but in his castles, he lowers his shields?  Damn, this situation is FUBARed.”

“Military lingo, I’m impressed,” Xander responded.  “Okay,” her boyfriend got his vexed look that she thought of as so damn cute.  “I suppose we’ll have to talk any attack plans over with our guest.”  Xander moved to and opened the bedroom door.  “Marie-,” her man’s voice trailed off.  “Oh no, she’s run.”

Faith peered around the doorway to see an empty lounge.  “Great, I best check the bathroom see if she’s in there.”

“I doubt she’s checking her make-up, Faith,” Xander retorted. 

Faith shoved past Xander and started across the lounge.  “I wasn’t the brains-trust who left a flight risk on her own, in an unlocked room,” she replied.

“She won’t be gone far,” Tara comforted.  “I’ll do a locater spell.”

“Great,” Xander nodded before punching the wall.  “Damn it!  Why couldn’t she let us help her?”

                                    *                                  *                                  *

Marie waited until the door shut between the trio before rising.  “If only,” she muttered before shaking her head.  For a second there she’d allowed her defences to drop, allowed herself to hope.  The young brunette, Faith, couldn’t be the Slayer.  She was aware of the existence of the Slayer, and was knowledgeable about how their organisation, their Council, worked.  While Faith was the right age, neither Xander nor Tara were old enough to be her Watcher.  Faith had taken her down easily enough, but she figured she was still fuzzy after her battering at the hands of Dracula’s minions, and a re-match would have a different result.

No, she shook her head as she continued to pack up her IDs, they were just a bunch of deluded kids who thought using the Slayer legend would impress people.  She supposed she should try and talk them out of their foolishness, but really, the best thing she could do for them was leave before Dracula tracked her down while she was with them. 

Easing the door open, she slid outside, gently closing the door behind her.  Once outside, she started through the darkened streets, a look at the gloomy sky confirming that daylight and temporary safety was still two – three hours away at the very least.

“The sewage plant,” she muttered, heart racing with excitement as she remembered her earlier plan.  She started through the streets, ducking into shadows when she sensed people coming before continuing on her way.

Finally she reached the spot where she’d been kidnapped.  A shudder ran through her as she eyed the dustpiles, a sudden fission of doubt running through her.  Whoever Faith and her companions were they were, they were very good.  Maybe she should have thrown her lot in with them.

“No,” she resolved with another shake of the head, her decision was made.  This feud had taken enough of her own family without claiming the lives of well-meaning children.  She would fall on her own, without the blood of innocents on her hands. 

After a quick left and right, she started across the road.

And then everything seemed to slow, a single step seeming to take an eternity, the air turning to almost ice around her.  Heart racing, Marie looked around.

Her breath seemed to catch in her throat, blocking her ability to scream as a long, black-painted wooden coach turned the corner and entered the deathly silent street.  The tinted window carriage wasn’t pulled by horses or ponies, but by a quartet of hulking, midnight black hounds, their red eyes burning through the night’s sudden mist like a demonic car’s lamps, their snarls seeming to shake the ground underfoot. 

The coach came to a silken stop just in front of her.  After a long, seeming unending, pause, the door was flung open.  “And finally,” purred the figure stood in the open doorway, “the last Van Helsing.”

“Noooo,” finally a piteous moan escaped Marie’s lips.  She thought she’d been frightened before.  But now, with her fate before her, she knew true terror.

Dracula was tall and slender, dressed in a simple but perfectly cut business suit.  His skin was the palest she’d ever seen, every vein on his shaven head clearly visible.  His face was shaped like a wolf’s, his cheeks and chin sharp enough to cut yourself on, and his eyes weren’t the normal vampire yellow, but a terrible, staring, pink.  “The trouble your family put me through,” the demon stepped off the coach and onto the ground, his expensive shoes splashing into a puddle.  “But tonight,” Marie moaned again when the vampire ran an ice-cold finger down her face, “the stain on my honour will be expunged.”  The demon stepped back, an awful smile on his face.  “But this, this is hardly sporting.”  The vampire clicked his fingers.

Suddenly she could move again.  A desperate snarl on her lips, she leapt forward, faster than she’d ever moved before, hand reaching for her stake.

But as fast as she moved, the lord of the undead was so much the faster.  One moment he was in front of her, the next to her left.  Before she had chance to react, his hand hammered into the side of her head.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

Dracula laughed as he caught the woman as she fell to the ground.  “There, there, my sweet,” he stared into her closing eyes.  She was so beautiful, if she was not of the line, he’d consider turning her, maybe even making her his bride.  But as it was there was another fate awaiting her.

Lifting the limp girl, he allowed her bag to fall from her and onto the ground, best to leave a trail behind for the Slayer to follow, before climbing back into his coach and reverently lying the captive brunette on the velvet seat, her head resting on his lap.  That accomplished, he spoke, his whisper nevertheless carrying to his waiting pets.  “Home, hounds, home.”

                                    *                                  *                                  *

“This way,” Tara exclaimed as she led her companions through Poland’s empty but lightening streets, her locator spell guiding her.  She suddenly shuddered and almost fell.

”Whoa!” Faith grabbed her arm. “What’s up sis?”

“Evil,” Tara trembled.  “Evil, near-by.”

Xander and Faith exchanged glances before simultaneously drawing weapons.  “Damn,” Faith spoke first.  “Think he got to her first?”

“Could be,” Xander passed Tara a short sword.  “Let’s take it slow from now on, are you okay to move Tara?”

After a second she nodded, the hollow terror of just moments before had receded to queasiness.  “I’ll manage,” she replied, fortified by her friends’ presence.  The next few minutes passed with torturous slowness as they crept through the wakening city’s widening alleys.  Finally they broke out onto the street where they’d first rescued Marie from the vampires.

“Damn,” after shooting nervous looks around, Faith and Xander moved out to the bag lying in the middle of the street, Tara at the alley’s mouth, guarding their backs.  Her two friends crouched over the bag, Faith lifting it.  “Looks like Van-Lady’s, you think Drac got her?”

”Looks like it.”  After a second Xander rose and turned to her.  “Tara, does Dracula have a castle near here?”

FIC:  MC 32 Jan ’01 The Feud (6/?)

Dracula looked up at the lightening sky as his coach pulled up outside his Polish home.  It would be light in just a few minutes, his reign as king of Europe would be over for another confining day.

Comforting himself that he at least had ‘company’ to entertain himself with until nightfall, he lifted the last Van Helsing’s limp body into his arms and stepped out of the coach, nodding at the head-bowed minion holding the door open for him.  “Stable the dogs for me,” he hid a smile at his grand-childe’s sudden flinch.  The hounds had eaten more than one vampire who’d been too careless in stabling them.  It was a job that required a wary eye and quick reflexes, attributes he encouraged.  “Is there a problem?”

“N…no sire,” his minion stuttered.

”Then get on with it.”  He started towards the castle, its shadow looming over him.

“Sire!”

He turned back to look at his minion with eyebrow raised.  After a second, he spoke.  “Yes?”

“There’s a rumour there’s a rumour that the Van Helsing was helped by a Slayer?”

“I have little time for rumours,” Dracula sniffed.  “The fact you have time to gossip indicates you haven’t enough work to do.  Now, what of this rumour?”

“W…why haven’t you killed her?”

“I hope you’re not suggesting I’m frightened?” Dracula glared at his minion.

“No!”  The vampire wilted satisfactorily under his stare.  “I just thought you’d take her as soon as you found out about her presence.  It is after all an affront to your mighty powers!”

“Taking a Van Helsing or a Slayer is quite an accomplishment, one to be savoured like a fine wine, not rushed like a cheap beer.  One mustn’t gorge oneself,” he replied before gliding into the castle, its great doors opening at his approach.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

“Here’s the computer,” Xander looked left and right, satisfied that no-one was paying them any attention in the café they’d made their way to after finding Marie’s bag.  Not that there was likely to be anyone, Xander had practically kicked the door in before the owner had opened it to be almost barged to the ground.  He’d dragged Tara inside with a concerned look that practically made her glow inwardly, before quietening the protesting owner, a weathered, greying man in his late fifties, by stuffing a handful of notes, probably almost enough to buy the rundown cafe, into his hand. 

Finally satisfied that there wasn’t anyone watching, Xander sat down beside her and slid the laptop to her while Faith distracted the old man as only Faith could before sauntering back over carrying three chipped jugs of coffee.  “Here,” Faith slammed the mugs down, hot liquid splashing over their rim, and onto the table, “I wouldn’t recommend drinking though,” Faith warned as she dropped into the seat opposite.  “This place,” Faith’s nose wrinkled as she cast as disdainful look around, “ain’t exactly hygienic.  You’d need a Slayer’s immune system to stomach them.”

“Okay,” Tara peered at the screen.  “Apparently he owns a castle some sixty minutes outside of town.  But,” Tara looked up at her two companions, “you know it’ll be heavily guarded.”

“I know,” Xander nodded grimly.  “Only an idiot would attack.  Faith, when do you go?”

The Slayer narrowed her brown orbs.  “You’re a real funny SOB aren’t you?”  Her boyfriend clearly dismissed, Faith turned to her.  “Sis, what happened before?”

Tara breathed sharply, the memory still haunting her.  “A locator spell involves sensing a person’s essence, following where it’s been, where it’s going.  The moment she met Dracula, I sensed his essence,” she shuddered, she’d never felt anything so foul in her life.  “It made me sick, like when you eat a fish that’s gone off.”

“Will you be able to come with us to fight him?”  Faith asked.

After a second she nodded.  “As long as I’m not doing a locator spell I won’t be able to sense his essence.”

Faith beamed.  “Wic-.”  Suddenly her friend’s eyes hardened.  “Shit!” Eyes widening, Faith launched herself at them, backhanding the table aside before clotheslining them both at chest-level, knocking them and their chairs over.

They were still in mid-air when the window exploded in a rain of gunfire, glass flying everywhere.  “What the!” Xander yelled as he hit the floor.

“That Pole from earlier?” Faith bellowed as she rolled off them.  “Three car-loads of people I recognised from his club have just turned up outside!”

“I take it from this they’re not happy?” Tara asked.  Both her friends turned their heads to her, eyebrows raised.  “Okay, silly question.”

“Okay,” Xander reached into the Always Pocket and pulled out a stun grenade.  “As John Sheridan would say ‘always turn a weakness into a strength’.”

“Who?” Faith asked.

”Philistine.  Never mind,” Xander threw the grenade out of the shattered window.  A half-second later and there was a bang and a flash.  Xander sprang to his feet.  “Let’s get out of-,” her friend paled his eyes falling to the café owner slumped over the counter, his lifeless eyes open and blood from a head wound dripping down the counter.  “Oh no.”

“X,” after a stunned second Faith snatched at Xander’s arm, her greater strength pulling him towards her.  “It’s not your fault, they came here after us.  They shot the bullets not you.”

“Yeah,” Xander’s face hardened, his eyes becoming glacial.  “They did.”  Xander looked towards the door. “Faith.”

“Sure, X,” her best friend started for the door, both of them following close behind.  “Which way?”

“Back to the house,” Xander replied.

”They’ll follow us,” Tara objected.  “Surely we should hide out?”

Faith raised a hand, halting the conversation, as she reached the door.  “Two outside.”  The Slayer lifted her foot and kicked the door.

The door was of formidable, heavy construction.  Unfortunately the hinges were set into a rotting door frame, and as a result, a Slayer-powered kick sent the door flying, hitting one of the two guards full in the face, and flattening him beneath it.  Before the remaining, wide-eyed thug had chance to react Faith was on him, a butt to the face, and a heel to his left knee putting him down and unconscious, blood from his broken nose leaking onto the ground.

Once the two thugs were out, Faith turned to them, a sceptical look on her face.  “Tar’s got a point,” she said as they hurried down the winding alley, “it would be best to lose them, hide up somewhere, then hit Drac’s lair later.”

“Tara said he’s got a load of minions, too many for us to handle on their own.”

“Yeah, but what we gonna do?” Faith queried.  “We’re on our own.”  Faith looked over her shoulder.  “I can hear them coming, let’s hustle.”

”Not quite,” Xander’s grin had little true humour in it.  “We’ve got them.  If we stay just ahead of them so we don’t lose them, grab our car, and head out for Dracula’s castle, they’ll follow and get into a fight with his minions.  Leave Dracula to us.”

Tara’s head snapped towards her friend, eyes widening with horror.  “You can’t lead them into an ambush.”

“They chose to come after us, we didn’t ask them,” Xander pointed out, his tone bleak and hard.   “Vampires don’t have a choice about killing innocents.  Humans do.”

A/N:  The Buffy reference should not be taken as a hint that I’m planning on returning to Sunnydale.  I’m not, not going to happen.  It’s just to confirm something that I was sure I’d be asked about.  And really, I’m surprised no one’s asked before.  What, aren’t you paying attention?  Looks hurt.

FIC:  MC 32 Jan ’01 The Feud (7/?)

“Are they still coming?” Xander yelled as their car roared up the hills just outside Warsaw, the fumes from their car’s over-heating engine just about choking him.

“SHIT!” Faith screeched as their rear window exploded.  “That answer your question?”

“Oh yeah.”  Ignoring the pounding of his heart, Xander forced himself to remain calm as he glanced in his wing-mirror to see three car-loads of wildly shooting ‘demon hunters’ chasing them.  Demon hunters, Xander found himself smiling despite the gravity of the situation; he’d give them all the demons they could handle.  And if some of these scumbags bought it, well it would just help out the gene pool a little.

He knew it was a risky plan, not going full out to lose their pursuers, a stray bullet, a blown tyre could easily mess everything up, but in his mind it was less risky than going to take Dracula on with just the three of them.  Best to bring some invited guests. “ Everyone loves gatecrashers,” he muttered.

“Oh boy,” hearing Faith’s whisper he looked ahead, blood chilling at what he saw.

They were coming up fast on a narrow, one-lane bridge over a ravine.  Beyond that lay a castle surrounded in swirling mist that seemed to form just around the building, blemishing an otherwise fine day.  Despite that, Xander could make enough to make his blood run cold.

The castle was a gothic monstrosity constructed entirely out of huge black blocks of granite, making a seemingly unbreakable construction.  The spires of the rounded turrets on each corner reached up to impale the sky and two red lights flanked the wooden double doors, blazing through the fog like a predator’s eyes.  All in all, not a place you’d like to visit, much less live in.  Shoving aside his sense of foreboding, he managed a laugh.  “You think he has the Addams family over as guests?”

“Hell,” Faith sounded as spooked as him, “not even they have that little class.”

“Just you and Uncle Spense for family reunions?”

“Bitch!”

Xander chuckled at Faith’s outraged reaction to Tara’s comment.  “Okay,” Xander started pulling weaponry out of the Always Pocket and dumping it on the empty seat beside him, Faith in the back with Tara.  “When we stop, there might not be time to arm ourselves,” or he might be out cold or worse from what he had planned “,the weapons are here.”

“X, where we gonna dump the car?  The moment we stop the assholes behind us and the vamps in the castle are gonna be on us!”

Xander grimaced in readiness for his girl’s explosion.  ”Somehow I don’t think they have valet parking.”

Faith exchanged horrified looks with Tara.  “Oh you have got to be kiddin’ me!” Faith yelled before grabbing Tara by the shoulder and throwing herself and Tara to the floor.

Xander swallowed as he hit the stone bridge, jamming the accelerator down to coax out the few revs he’d been holding back.  A quick look in the rear view mirror satisfied him the Polish thugs were still coming.  Either they don’t know about the Count, didn’t realise this was his local base, or didn’t care. 

Whatever the reason, it was their funeral.

He looked towards the looming doors and swallowed.  Why did he get the idea this was a very, very bad idea?  Reminding himself it was way past second thoughts’ time, he braced himself and hit the brakes as they cleared the bridge.  “Hold on!”

The car slammed into the doors with a force any medieval battering ram would have envied.  The impact lifted Xander off his seat.  Pain flared through his shoulder as it jammed against the seat-belt.  Steel won its collision with wood, the door imploding.  Xander’s eyes widened as he saw a splinter heading towards the windscreen and leaned away, leaving his hands on the wheel.

The windscreen shattered and the splinter flew through it, the collision with glass only slowing it slightly until it crashed into his seat’s headrest.  Xander gulped.  “That was a lucky mi-,” he paled as he saw the stone, tapestry-covered wall just ahead,  “hold on!”

The car screeched to a halt just feet from the wall.  Heart still pounding, he sat there.  “We did it, we really did it.”

“Yeah, great,” Faith’s natural abrasiveness came through loud and clear.  “We survived that, now how about the mess of vampires running down the stairs?”

“Oh heck!” Xander unfastened his seat-belt, wincing slightly at the pain that shot through his shoulder, judging it to bruised but thankfully not broken or dislocated.  A kick was needed to open his buckled door. 

”Hell,” Faith snarked as she jumped out of the back, Tara following her, “I really hope some of those bandits’ leave their car behind.  Otherwise someone’s gonna get their ass kicked if I have to walk all the way to town.”

“You could always hitch,” Tara snarked back.  “Soon get picked up in that top!”

“Hey, I thought you liked my top!”

“Everyone does.  That’s my point,” Tara replied.  “And it’s more the contents.”

”You ain’t in my class, sis, but if you weren’t such a church-mouse..”

While the two girls bickered, every day they got more and more like real siblings from what he remembered of Buffy and Dawn, Xander glanced around, they were in a vast, sprawling hall, its grey stone walls hanging with a combination of intricately-woven tapestries of battle scenes and a collection of medieval weaponry.  Outside he could hear the sound of gunfire, the Poles chasing them having obviously come under fire from vampires inside the castle.

Of rather more concern though were the horde of vampires streaming down the curving inwards stairwells to the left and right.  Readying his Desert Eagle, Xander put the monster automatic to good use, putting the first three demons down with shots to the head, the blessed ammo ensuring their heads exploded, followed a second later by their undead bodies.  “Faith, take the left, Tara with me!” Xander ordered.  “And leave one alive.”

“Yo, X!” Faith replied. “Can someone tell them that too?”

Xander shook his head.  That was his girl-friend, always with the wise.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

Dracula smiled at the magically-comatose beauty, lying on his four-postered bed in the very robe that Lucy Westenra had worn when he’d taken her, thus leading to the events that had brought the thrice-damned Van Helsings into his existance.  It was approriate that Marie wear the same nightgown that fair Lucy had worn that memorable night.  The same robe that started this feud would also end it. 

A regretful sigh escaped his lips as he ran a finger down the sleeping woman’s face.  She moaned and shifted in her sleep.  If she was not of the line-.

But she was, he shook his head.  He’d sworn to kill her and kill her -.

He almost fell with the building shuddered.  Eyes flaming, he started towards his bedchamber’s door, wondering who had the affrontry to attack him in his lair.  Then stopped as he sensed something familiar and chuckled.  “The Slayer, she’s dared to hunt me.”  Smiling to himself at her nerve, he sat on the chair by the woman’s bedside and took her hand, finger on her steady pulse.

Either she’d make it through his forces and he’d kill her.  Or they would kill her.  But on balance he did so hope she made it.  It was almost two hundred years since his last Slayer, but he remembered the taste, there was nothing like it.  And the thrill of the battle, he shivered.

Oh yes, he hoped she made it.

She would be his fourth.

FIC: MC 32 Jan ’01 The Feud (8/?)

Eschewing guns as for sissies, Faith sprang towards the eight vampires charging towards her, a pair of specially-made and church blessed short swords Xan had brought her for Christmas in her hands, the weapons perfectly weighted and balanced, the light from the torches lining the   They looked the shits, but it was time for the big question, how would they handle in battle?

Faith jumped upwards,  gliding into an Olympic-level somersault en-route to landing between the two lead vampires, her swords simultaneously slicing up to take two heads.  “Not bad!” Faith exulted before surging onto the next demons, blood pumping.

She saw her next opponent’s eyes widen, laughed gleefully as she ducked under his clumsy axe-swing and thrust the blade through his heart.  Thanks to it being blessed metal, he exploded into dust.  At the same time she kicked out to her right, her heel smashing into the inside knee of the vampire stood there, her right sword sprung out, seemingly of its own violation, decapitating him as he hit his knees.

A demon grabbed her from behind, attempting to wrap an arm around her neck, Faith drove her head backwards and swung a sword backwards between her legs.  “Ahhhhh!” the vampire screamed before releasing his hold and falling backwards.

A vampire in front of her crashed a right into her forehead.  Dazed, she almost fell, and grunted when the demon behind her kicked her in her calf.  Off balance, she stumbled forward but recovered in time to slash upwards with her right sword to decapitate the advancing demon before twisting at the waist and taking down the one behind her with her other sword.

Faith laughed again as the two remaining vampires began to back up, heading for the stairs behind them.  “Too late.”  She leapt into the air, catching the one to the right with a double drop-kick to the chest, her left sword sliding fluidly out to decapitate the demon stood beside him.

Hitting the floor on top of the surviving vampire, she blocked a punch on her right forearm before driving the pommel of her left sword square into her adversary’s face, shattering bone.  “Stay down!” The vampire tried to throw her off, Faith laid the edge of her right blade across the demon’s throat and peered down, a shit-eating grin on her face.  “This ain’t a negotiation, mother-fucker.”  Satisfied the demon was subdued, she looked over her shoulder to see how Xan and sis were doing,

                                    *                                  *                                  *

Tara jumped to the front wall as she fired the mini-Uzi she’d selected, teeth chattering with the blowback.  Vampire after vampire hit the floor, screaming in pain.  She never thought she’d get into fun, but they were as Faith put it ‘wicked cool’.  Just as long as she wasn’t aiming them at any humans, she doubted she’d ever get used to that.

The moment her clip ran out, she dropped her gun and reached for her stake so to finish off the injured demons.  Her eyes widened as one of the wounded jumped up and charged her, face contorted in its demonic mask.  Stepping back, she grabbed an antique table and shoved it to the paving stones before her.

”Ahhh!” the demon stumbled over the obstacle, blundering onto her hastily drawn stake.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

Xander took down eight vamps before one managed to cover the killing ground, leaping at him.  Xander dropped to his knees.  Ignoring the pain that jolted through his legs upon impact, he raised his gun and fired, putting the rest of his rounds into the diving vampire.

Even as it exploded into dust, another jumped at him, tackling him around his shoulders.  Pain roared through his shoulder again as he crashed onto his back, but he managed to drive a knee into the demon’s stomach, pausing its attack just long enough to draw a stake and thrust it through the demon’s chest.

“Yo!” he looked up as the demon erupted into dust to see Faith straddling a vampire, holding it prisoner.  At least he hoped that was what she was doing, otherwise they were way better friends than they should be.  “Got our vamp here, and he’s a talker.  ‘Least,” he heard the smile in Faith’s voice, “he will be.”

Rising, he joined Tara in hurrying over.  “Where’s Dracula?”

                                    *                                  *                                  *

“I’m not talking,” the demon under Faith blustered.

Faith chuckled.  “I think you are, if you know what’s good for you.”

“Okay,” the vampire nodded.  Faith smirked.  Experience had taught her all vampires were complete cowards, she suspected it was something to do with the lack of soul. “He’s in his bedchamber.”

“Which is where?” Faith prompted.  “Kinda need a map.”

“It’s the right tower, the highest room.”

“Thanks,” Xander nodded before looking to her.  “Kill him.”

The demon’s eyes widened.  “You said you wouldn’t kill me!”

Faith’s brow furrowed.  “I don’t remember saying that.  Do you remember, X?” 

“We don’t make deals with vampires,” her boyfriend replied.

”Figured you’d say that.”  The demon’s mouth opened in protest but whatever he’d been about to say was lost in an explosion of dust as Faith’s blade sliced through his throat. “Sucker!” Faith gloated before looking at him, a troubled look on her face.  “You see how tall this building is?  Gonna be a lot of steps.”

“Yeah,” Xander nodded glumly.  “Tell me something I didn’t know.”  Xander’s eyes widened as he looked towards the back of the hall, an until before noticed portcullis screeching open.

“Grrrr.  Grrrr.  Grrr.”

Faith shuddered at the deep growls, a chill seeming to grow in the air.  “That must be the Hellhounds.”

“What gave it away?” Xander retorted.  “Got everything you need to kill Dracula?”

“Holy water, stakes, swords, the whole nine yards.”  Faith’s gaze didn’t shift from the hulking yet scarily graceful monsters stalking out of the entrance, their eyes staring unblinkingly at them.   “But let’s concentrate on Fido first?”

“Let me and Tara deal with them.”  Faith shot Xander a disbelieving look.  “Hey,” her man smiled.  “You know me, I’m lazy.  No way am I running those steps.”  Xander sobered.  “We’ve got your back.”

Faith shrugged.  It wasn’t like she was taking an easy way out, no one could accuse someone who ran into a fight with Dracula of that.  “K.”  After a last look at the dogs, she looked to Xander.  “You’ll-.”

“Right after you.”

“Five by five,” she nodded before sprinting for the stairs.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

The moment Faith moved, Xander pulled a concussion grenade and passed it to Tara before pulling one out for himself.  Tara stared doubtfully at the weapon.  “This room is big, but it’s not that big.”

”I’d advise jumping backwards.”  Xander replied.  “You throw yours to the back, I’ll drop mine to the front.”

“You’re a real comfort,” Tara commented.

“We’ve got choices?”  The moment the dogs started moving, Xander let out a yell.  “Now!”

The two grenades hit the ground with near-perfect synchronicity.  Xander grabbed Tara and threw them both towards the wall behind them.  The building shook, flames and stone flew up from the ground, and dogs were shredded.

“That’ll be the hell for the foundations,” Xander commented as he looked up at the dismembered corpses, cratered floor, and smoke blackened walls.

“Who cares,” Tara replied.  “We did it.”

“Oh yes,” a sibilant voice hissed from over them.  “We’re most impressed.”

                                    *                                  *                                  *

Faith snarled as she reached the top floor.  Thanks to Xan’s idea, she hadn’t run into any vamps, they were too busy fighting the Poles, but even so, three hundred and change steps wasn’t a picnic even for a Slayer.  Now she was drenched in sweat, and pissed with it.  Kicking open the floor’s only door, she walked in to find Dracula sat beside Marie in an old-fashioned bed-chamber.  “Hey, Drac.  Time to die.”

The vampire rose from his seat beside the bed, power coming off him in suffocating waves.  “Oh,” the demon smiled.  “I think not.”

FIC: MC 32 Jan ’01 The Feud (9/10)

“Oh boy,” Xander looked at the trio of female vampires striding down the steps.  All three were tall, blond-haired, dressed in translucent night-shifts that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, not that he was complaining exactly, and from the look in their sapphire eyes, even nuttier than the average vamp.  “Three Drus, are we in for trouble.”

“Dru-,” Tara said beside him.  “Who’s-.   Ahhhh!” The witch was lifted off her feet and flung into the stairwell behind them.

”Tar!” he half-turned to look behind him before remembering the trio in front of him, and snapping his gaze back forward.  “What did you do to her?”

“Too much power,” giggled the hottest of the three.  Although saying she was the hottest of the three was like trying to pick the sexiest Playboy centrefold, real close to impossible.  And before Cordelia and Faith he’d really tried. “I’ll deal with the paladin-child, you play with daddy’s little witch.”

Suddenly the three demons were moving, surging down the stairwell.  Bullet after bullet scarred the walls as he missed them.  And then she was on him, snatching the assault rifle from his hands and tossing it away.  “Such clever tricks,” she purred before catching him with a stunning backhand that knocked him sideways, vision momentarily starring with the blow’s impact.

Dazed, he threw a wild left.  The vampiress giggled manically as she ducked beneath his attack before cracking a left into his stomach.  “Ohhhh,” Xander grunted, crunch-developed abs offered scant protection to a body shot delivered with interest by a two century old vampire.  Stomach heaving, he doubled up and stepped back, vision blurring again as his eyes teared.

The seer cackled.  “Stars said you were more dangerous than this.”  Xander hissed as her talons raked him across the right cheek drawing blood.  The still-screeching demon grabbed him by his hair and pulled him upright.  “The stars lied.”

“Actually,” he slammed the stake he’d just pulled out of the Always Pocket into her chest, “they were dead on.”  He stared into the demon’s eyes as she burst into dust.  “You should have been paying attention.”  He looked towards Tara and scowled.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

Tara gasped and wheezed, tears forming in her eyes as she struggled for breath, the invisible air-band around her throat choking her.  She tried to wriggle away from the two molesting vampires, but they held her firm, their combined powers too much for her to combat, even as their hands unfastened her clothes and groped her.

“So pretty,” giggled one.  “I do hope the Count lets us play a while.”

“Her blood sings the finest tune,” replied the other.  “Such power, a great destiny, the stars will sing her name for centuries.”

“Yes.”  The first giggled.  “Unless we stop -.”

“Noooooo!” Suddenly their heads shot back, two pairs of eyes filling with shock.

Feeling the magical bonds around her loosening, Tara lashed out, pulsing a fist of air at the demon to her right.  The demon gasped as she was sent somersaulting into the air.  Elation surging through her veins, Tara turned to deal with the other sister.

“Owww!” she groaned as a right-handed blow crashed into her face, knocking her on the back, head bouncing off a fortunately carpet-covered step.

“Naughty girl not playing by the rules,” the demon scolded.  “Likes girls instead of boys, runs away from home, and now won’t let us play.  So selfish.”

“Ahhhhh!” Tara screamed as the now vamped-out demon, all pretences of human beauty dropped, grabbed her by the hair at the back of her head and yanked her to the feet.  Summonsing her courage, she spat at the demon.  The moment it moved its head to avoid the spittle, she attempted a knee to the stomach.

”Silly, silly girl,” the demon patronised as it slapped her leg away.  “That’s not the way to play!”

“Is this?”  The Bride’s eyes widened as she thrust her stake home, her feint working perfectly.

Without the Bride to hold her up, Tara stumbled forward and into a backhander from the Bride she’d thrown across the hall, the blow knocking her shoulder first into the wall.  Before she had chance to recover the vampire was on her, a crushing hand around her neck, steely fingers crushing her windpipe.  “My sister!  My sister!” she heard the demon’s scream as if from a distance.

Suddenly the fingers and voice were gone, a cloud of dust appearing before her.  “If your sister was still alive, she’d tell you to never leave your back exposed in a fight,” Xander announced before stepping through the dust.  Blood dripping down his swelling face, Xander took hold of her by the elbows and pulled her to her feet.  Xander looked towards the stairwell Faith had run up just minutes earlier.  “She’ll be wondering what’s keeping us, and you know how cranky she gets when people are late.  Which with her record of punctuality is a bit much.”  Her friend turned back to her.  “Let’s hurry.”

Tara looked down to her unbuttoned blouse.  “Can I fasten up first?”

Xander gulped and hurriedly looked away.  “If you have to.”

                                    *                                  *                                  *

The vampire drew a long broadsword that gleamed crimson rather than steel.  The demon smiled at her look.  “The Bloodsword,” he explained.  “The memories of every soul I have taken resonates within here, sometimes I talk to them.”

Faith blinked.  There was nothing to say to that.  Except one.  “Mine ain’t going in there.  I’m kinda attached to it.”

“Oh of course not, dear.”  His eyes fixed on her, the demon half-bowed.  “A Slayer’s blood is for the drinking.”

“Not this Slayer’s.”  Faith darted forward.

Her right sword darted out, lunging upwards at the thousand year old demon’s throat. He laughed while contemptuously parrying her attack and twisting away from her simultaneous left sword lash at his gut.  Before she had chance to continue, the Count counter-attacked, a cleaving downwards slash she neatly sidestepped.

And so it continued, like a deadly ballet dance, attack, block, counter, sidestep.  The only sounds were their feet scuffling on the floor and their weapons clanging together.

“Shit!” Faith cursed as a rug moved under her foot.  Even then she’d have kept her balance but for her opponent seeing her difficulty and pressing his advantage.  Forced to fling herself sideways and backwards to avoid a sword slash, she fell to the ground, her head smashing against a wooden chest of drawers, the force of her landing splintering the antique furniture.

Dazed, Faith tried to get up.  “Oooh,” she groaned when her opponent planted a thudding boot in her stomach.  She kicked out at his grounded leg, but he blocked on the side of his sword, the impact of steel on flesh reverberating through her unfortunate limb.  “Crap,” she grunted as she pulled back a fist only to have it stamped on, almost hard enough to break her fingers and certainly hard enough to render it useless for the duration of the fight.  

Every time she tried to rise, she was met by a clubbing punch to the face or a kick to the body, legs, or arms.  Whatever manoeuvre she tried, she was trapped, the vampire was there before she’d finished, his attacks brutally, systemically sapping her strength.  Eventually instinct took over, and she found herself rolled up in foetal ball, trying as best she could to shield herself from her pummelling.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

It took a considerable time, but eventually the brunette beauty was beaten into barely-conscious submission.  Blood thundering with thoughts of the succulence awaiting him, he grabbed the young woman by her hair, flipped her onto her back, and crouched over her. 

He laughed as the Slayer spat a mouthful of holy water into his face.  Yes, it hurt, burnt like the fires of hell themselves, but what was life without challenges or pain?  If a battle was not difficult, where was the delight in the victory?  If an opponent was not capable of causing you pain, what was the point of defeating them?

“Ahhh,” a groan escaped the battered temptress’ curvy lips as he retained his grip on her silken locks and yanked her upright before changing his grip to one around her neck and peering into her chocolate-brown orbs.

Dracula smiled as he held the girl aloft.  Even at death there was no fear in her eyes, only fire.  It was such a shame that the change never worked with a Slayer.  This beauty, this spirit was more than worthy of being the queen he’d always sought.

Ah well, one shouldn’t be greedy, he leaned in for a bite.

FIC: MC 32 Jan ’01 The Feud (10/10)

Marie looked through the vampire as he burst into dust, the makeshift stake she’d shoved through his back, a splintered piece of the chest of drawers Faith had crashed into.  And then she leapt forward to catch the pummelled Slayer as she fell.  “How?” Faith lisped through swelling lips.

Marie stared at the battered teen, amazed she was still conscious after such a beating.  “While you were fighting him, his concentration on the spell holding me in a coma slipped.  It took me a while, but eventually I woke -.”

They both turned towards the door as it crashed open, hearts sinking.  Faith was practically out on her feet, and she was ill-prepared for a fight, they were done for.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

“Faith!” Xander barely had time to take in the pile of dust on the floor before he was crossing the bedroom to take his barely-conscious girl-friend in his arms.  “Are you alright?”

His girl-friend’s right eye was completely closed, the left side of her face looked like something out of the Elephant-Man, and both her lips were swollen shut.  In addition, her right hand was swollen, and her left arm hang limply.  “Just bumps and bruises.”  The moment his mouth opened to press the matter, Faith hurried on.  “What about you though, run into any trouble getting here?”

“Just the Count’s Brides,” Tara casually replied.  Tara was starting to get real blasé about these things.

“Ya okay though?”  The Slayer’s one remaining open eye filled with concern as they gently aided her out of the bed-chamber.

“Tara kicked ass.  Score me one Sister, one shared but mostly Tara, and one to her.”

“Way to go, sis!” Faith high-fived the witch and then winced.  “Damn, that hurt.”

“And if you ever change your mind about lesbianism, Tar’s your girl.  She’s got a great rack,” Xander winked at the witch.  “The Brides took one look at her, and they were ripping her clothes off.”

“She’s been working out?” Faith asked with a grin.

”Looked like it to me.” Xander grinned as Tara’s increasing blushes.

”Looks like you looked too close.  Here,” Faith grabbed Xander by the head and pulled him into a long, dangerously oxygen-depriving kiss with plenty of tongue and hands.  Finally, as he thought he was about to breathe his last, Faith pulled away with a wink of her good eye.  “That’s a reminder ‘bout what you’re getting at home.  Any questions?”

“Just one,” Xander stared dazedly around the long corridor.  “Which way is out?”

                                    *                                  *                                  *

“Who are these people?” Marie looked at the three corpse-filled, bullet-riddled cars in the castle’s grounds and then glanced at the stiff faces of her companions.

“Some gangsters who were offended when I beat up their boss for insulting Faith and Tara,” Xander replied.  “They came after us, I led them here to distract the Count’s minions from hassling us.  Looks like it worked.”

“They didn’t have to shoot at us, X.” Faith comforted.  “Let’s get back home.  I just want to sleep, yo, for like a week.”