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We crouched at the top of the stairs. I could feel Spike down in the blackness as his familiar shiver danced along my spine. I wanted to rush down to make sure he was all right, but I knew how foolish that would be. We already knew the girl was capable of murder. And to kill Spike would not be murder to her anyway. She was a Slayer. Killing vampires was what she was meant to do. I didn’t want to do anything to startle her into killing Spike. We were lucky enough she hadn’t done it already. I wondered why she hadn’t, but it was no time to get distracted.

I motioned to Angel, and we slowly crept down the stairs, keeping to the walls so as not to throw shadows that were noticeable down the steps. I could smell the molasses like a wall of perfumed air as we ventured down into the gloom. The psychic had been right on after all.

Angel had used his cell phone at the top of the stairs to notify Wesley and his response team of where we were. He had called for an assault team and ambulances to be standing by, as a worst-case scenario precaution. This was so different from how I was used to doing things. I was accustomed to rushing off recklessly by myself or with Spike and getting first aid from Giles later when I had gotten hurt. Assault teams and Ambulances? It would take some getting used to. Provided I stuck around, that is.

As we neared the bottom, I heard Dana speaking. The room was dark, but I could tell she was moving as she spoke. I just hoped she wasn’t facing the steps. I wanted to catch her unaware to avoid as much damage as possible. I couldn’t understand her. She wasn’t speaking English. It sounded like Chinese.

I heard Spike’s deep voice echo in the dank room. “Yeah. That's what you're remembering—other slayers.”

We reached the bottom of the stairs. I could see the distraught girl squatting down next to Spike. Her back was to us. Thank God for small favors. “You killed her,” she accused softly. Good Lord, Spike was right. In her lunacy, she was remembering the Slayer he had killed during the Boxer Rebellion.

“Yes. But…”The pain in his voice was so intense, I could tell Angel felt it as well as I. I motioned for him to stay while I approached Dana as quietly as I could. I surveyed our surroundings quickly as I moved. Spike was chained to a collection of pipes. They were heavy chains wrapped around his torso. We would need to find the key, for surely there was a padlock in the back of his encasement that would let him go. There always is. It was then I saw Spike’s arms. They ended just above his wrists. She had cut his hands off. I felt my stomach turn and I fought to keep from gagging.

“You killed them both.” Her harsh voice sounded throughout the room. I saw the glint of silver in her hand. She was holding a bone saw.

“That and worse. But I was never here,” Spike whispered. He showed no indication he knew we were there. His eyes never left her face. It became clear. Dana thought Spike was the one that had tortured her all those years ago. This was serious on lots of psychological levels.

Dana abruptly began punching him in the face. His head snapped back under her force. “Doesn't matter! Head and heart. Keep cutting till you see dust.”
She held aloft her bone saw and with a bloodthirsty roar and no coherent thought, I tackled her. I use the inertia to roll to the ground, pulling her with me. I brought my legs up and kicked out hard to send her rolling across the floor. She skittered to her knees with a groan as I jumped back onto my feet. She wasn’t holding the bone saw anymore, but her eyes were darting about the room searching for it. They lit up when she spotted it on the ground maybe fifteen feet from where she was standing. I crouched in a defensive stance and kept myself between her and the blonde vampire. There was no way I was going to let her hurt Spike anymore.

Angel began edging into the room, trying to distract her with his words. “Dana...look, we’re here to help you. The man who tried to hurt you? His name is Walter Kindel. He tried to rob a liquor store 5 years ago, and the police shot him. He—he's dead, Dana.” He slowly began walking towards her. “He can't hurt you anymore.”

She backed up to the wall. “Can’t hurt me. Not weak anymore.”

“That’s right,” I tried to placate her. “No one’s gonna hurt you.”

Dana held her hands out and looked at them. As she curled her hands into fists and glared at us, she said, “Strong. Slayer.” She charged at Angel, kicking at his chest. Angel leaned back just out of her reach, batting her foot out of the way. She threw a punch at the side of his face, but with his unnatural vampiric speed, he blocked her as she sent another kick his way. In blocking that one, he left himself open for a hard hit from her fist to his temple. He went sailing through the air. He landed hard against the wall and didn’t get up. As she ran to attack him again, I threw my leg out in a sweeping kick to knock the legs out from under her. She rolled across the floor as I darted to help Angel to his feet. I heard the scrape of metal on concrete and instinctively knew she had regained her weapon. Angel took on his fighting stance, and I turned to go back to mine.

I heard Angel scream, “Buffy!”

But she was already there, standing in front of me, right against me. There was a warm sensation in my abs. It confused me, why was I warm? Time seemed to stop as I looked imploringly into her eyes. She smiled widely at me her eyes glinting with seething hatred and insane triumph. My mind realized slowly what had happened. It was then I looked down.





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