Chapter Sixteen: Montana
Previously: Both Tierre and Buffy subjected themselves to cold showers. Tierre contemplated the similarities between him and Spike, and how, among all of these, the most notable one was their common desire for Buffy Summers. Buffy, on the other hand, has discovered the earth-shattering truth about Tierre in his kiss. Though it scared her to hell, it didn’t stop her from accepting some comfort, Tierre-style. Meanwhile, in the Scarletta Estate, Franco is busy with being furious, scared and trying to find a way to get Tierre back…
***
“I don’t believe it.” Logan declared.
“Believe it. This is one piece of information that’s legit all the way.” Luis said smugly, “I was there. I saw it myself.”
“He’s up to something.”
“Logan, this is good news. We’ve got a window of opportunity here. We should be grabbing it.”
“I refuse to believe that Tierre Wolfson simply gave himself over to the Council.”
Luis sighed. It was hard to understand Logan. He hated the Wolf, sure, and with good reason. But there were times when Logan acted almost as if he was…in awe of Wolfson, strange as the notion was. How many plans have they begun to put together, only to have Logan abort them because he had been convinced that Tierre would see right through them? In Luis’ opinion, Logan had an unhealthy case of overestimating his enemy.
“He did, you know. He gave himself up so they’d let Mr. Scarletta go.”
“No, that’s not all there is to it. He’s not that selfless.”
“Fine, then. What do you think he’s up to?” Luis muttered with a hint of impatience.
Logan was oblivious. “Hell if I know.”
“So let’s just stick with what we do know.” Luis got up from Logan’s plush, leather couch and walked over to where the other man was drumming his fingertips impatiently against a bookshelf. “The Balancer and the Scroll aren’t in the estate anymore. The Council has taken them, along with Tierre. There’ll be a lot of fighting between those two groups to recover what’s been lost…right?”
Logan smirked. “The Council runs here, Scarlet runs there, and we cross the intersection.”
“So what’re we waiting for?”
“Nothing, I suppose. Go call the others. I’m getting restless.”
Luis left, eager to gather the rest of Mercury and go wreak havoc upon, well, everyone else, really. Logan went to his room and turned on his laptop. The translation program he’d had specifically designed just for him was working remarkably well, but not nearly well enough. So far, he had come up with seven different translations from the original Prophecy, and he doubted if any one of them was even close.
Franco never knew, and neither did Tierre, that Logan had made copies of their precious Scroll. Trusting a thief was a stupid thing to do, and yet for all his intelligence, Franco had done just that. Did the old man really believe in all the ‘We’re like a real, big family’ speeches he kept churning out?
Granted, Logan had almost been taken in by them. The promise of a family was tempting. But that was before all his hard work had been pushed aside in favor of that bony ragamuffin, Wolfson.
Franco had a vision; Logan had ambition.
And Tierre was in the center of it all.
Logan sat down in front of his laptop and began reading one of the translations― the one that lonely Dr. Egbert, one of the linguists in Franco’s employ, had told him was most likely the closest to the original.
The Blood of the Guardian
The Blood of the Child
Shall flood the Garden of the Dead; the Cradle of the Birth
And She the Mother shall bring the Child to Her
And the Worlds shall weep for they are no more
It was supposed to be poetry. Maybe it was, in the original language, but in plain English, it didn’t sound so lyrical. The frustrating part was so many words had been lost in translation― they had absolutely no equivalent in English.
For now, anyway.
~*~*~*~
“You sure we’re in the right town?”
Wesley bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from snapping at Faith in irritation. “Yes, we are. Don’t you think we’d know where the Wolfson’s ranch is located?”
“Yo, chill, Watcher-man. Just sayin’, y’know…this place ain’t exactly where I thought Tierre Wolfson might roost in between jobs.”
“He doesn’t live here. He and Maggie use the ranch as a summer home. Or, so I’ve heard.”
“Still think it isn’t typical.”
“It works though,” Rona spoke up, “In a town like this, people like us can be easily spotted.”
“People like us?” Rumus asked.
Faith hid a smile. Her team included Wesley, Rumus, Selig, Kennedy, Rona and Vi. Faith never liked dragging a bunch of inexperienced Slayers along operations like this, so she called up the GAF ( Girls Against the First ), but only Kennedy, Rona and Vi were free.
All of them were dressed head to toe in black. Most of them had on long black coats ( all the better to hide weapons with ) and they had arrived in Faith’s big, black Hummer after leaving behind the sleek jet Wesley had piloted in an air strip that Faith assumed belonged to Wolfram and Hart.
The moment they entered the town, Rona had said, “For God’s sake, we’re like S.W.A.T invading Stars Hollow.” Off the others’ blank looks, she added, “Star’s Hollow…Gilmore Girls?”
“You watched that show?” Kennedy asked.
Rona scowled, “Got a problem with that?”
S.W.A.T invading Star’s Hollow. ‘Nuff said. Too bad Rumus didn’t get the pop-culture reference.
“Okay, so we’re here. Now what? We just waltz up in there and demand that they unhand that elf?” Vi asked. Unlike the shy redhead she had been, Vi was now a full-fledged Slayer, complete with the snarky attitude.
“How about we knock first, introduce ourselves, then systematically kick their asses?” Kennedy the Brat had become Kennedy the Cynic, a smooth transition from Kennedy the Scorned Slayer. Faith didn’t know if Kennedy had ever gotten over her break up with Willow years before, and since it was none of her business, didn’t ask.
“How about we just stand here and exchange silly, sarcastic mortal banter all night long?” Selig cut in, “No, please, continue. I have at least a century remaining of my youth. Help me waste it!”
That shut the Slayers up. Faith rolled her eyes, “Talk about tightly wound,” she muttered to Wesley.
Rumus shot her a sharp look.
Faith sighed. These Vashkans were starting to annoy her. They kept trying to call all the shots, not to mention no one else could ever just let loose around them because Selig, the icy monument to All Things Royal and Dignified, and Rumus, the rabid pit bull of an elf, considered it disrespectful to Yesha’s current state. Didn’t they understand that they were the victims in distress here and were therefore supposed to be meek and helpless, allowing the heroic Slayers and their noble cohorts to rescue the elf queen and save the day? And weren’t faeries supposed to be blond? When she died, she was going to kick Tolkien’s epic ass for making her believe that faeries were as pretty as Legolas. Okay, they were pretty, but they didn’t look like Legolas.
“Slayer…Slayer…no, not you, I meant her.”
Faith snapped out of it and realized that Rumus was trying to get her attention. He was pointing towards the house up ahead. At Faith’s signal, the Slayers fanned out, surrounding the house. Flanked by Wesley, Faith strode towards the front door. The two Vashkans went around to the back.
Every step she took made Faith tenser. The house looked normal, nothing out of the ordinary. And maybe Scarlet was inside, having beers while watching a game.
Not likely. But it could happen.
“Faith, wait a minute…” Wesley began.
But Faith, visions of killers lurking just behind the cheery gingham curtains dancing in her mind, didn’t hear him. She ran for the house, sailed gracefully over the porch, and violently knocked the door open. Better to strike first, to blindside them…
“Where is she?!” she demanded―
― of the old couple sitting cozy together on the couch. They blinked up at her innocently.
Faith stared.
“Hello.” The li’l old lady greeted.
“I didn’t know we’d be having guests tonight. Is it poker night now? It’s not Friday already, is it?” the old coot asked.
“Faith!” Wesley came bounding in, “We’re at the wrong house!”
“Thanks for the early warning,” Faith hissed, “Now go and warn our two favorite tooth faeries that ―”
A crash that was none other than the back door being busted open sounded loudly. Faith shut her eyes and whispered a few choice words. Selig and Rumus were yelling for Yesha at the top of their lungs. The old―surprisingly agile―couple got up to inspect the noise. Faith and Wesley reluctantly followed.
“Hey! You broke our door! You’re going to pay for that, you…you…who are you folks, anyway?” the old geezer shook his fist at the Vashkans.
Team Rescue Yesha gaped at each other helplessly.
“Uh…Faith?” Rona had gotten inside the house without being noticed, “You better come out here.”
What now? Faith groaned inwardly. She started to go outside, but something tugged at her. She looked back and saw the old woman stroking her leather coat.
“Is this real leather?” she asked.
Faith decided to try and spare her feelings, considering her evening had just been ruined, “No, ma’am. This is fake. I don’t support the practice of wearing leather.”
Wesley snorted.
“Me neither. It’s too bad, though, ‘coz leather is sexy. I was even thinking of buying one of those leather and lace corsets that’s so hot nowadays.”
Now the team stared in mute shock at the li’l old lady.
“Stop that, you naughty bat! You tryin’ to turn me on in front of these youngsters?” her husband teased her coyly.
“Let’s leave. Now.” Rumus hustled out of the kitchen quickly.
“We apologize for all this trouble. We assure you that we will never come anywhere near the two of you. Ever. Again.” Selig followed Rumus.
The couple trailed behind the scandalized ‘youngsters’ outside their house. There, the Slayers stood, facing off two men.
One of the men was older, but younger than Wesley. Somewhere in his early thirties. He was tall, dark, handsome, and very confused at the sight of the S.W.A.T wannabes. He looked at each of them the way a person might examine a strange new specie of insect.
The other one was younger, about mid to late twenties. He was tall, but not as tall as his companion. Thick hair so black, it had natural blue highlights was parted at the center. He was leanly built. He wasn’t Caucasian; his chiseled features didn’t give away his heritage. He could’ve been Asian, or Native American. And then again, he could be Spanish. He kept his hands in his pockets and looked bored, but his intense gaze had instantly locked in on Faith. The dark Slayer felt that she was being measured; and not in the raunchy way.
He, Faith thought, is the more dangerous of the two.
“They could be Scarlet.” Wesley whispered to her, “What are you thinking?”
“Come to mama, you gorgeous creature, you.” Rona drawled softly under her breath, eyes on the younger of the strange men.
Faith smiled and cocked her head towards Rona, “What she said,” she replied. The two women never took their eyes off the man with his hands in his pockets.
“Who the hell are you?” Kennedy demanded.
The handsome one frowned, “Who are you?” he shot back, “You know these people, Mrs. Bowman?”
“No!” Mrs. Bowman replied, “But I think these poor, sexy things are lost.”
“I think they’re burglars!” Mr. Bowman cried indignantly, “They broke the back door!”
Gorgeous Creature raised black eyebrows, “Now, why’d you go and do a thing like that?” he asked. His tone was friendly, half-amused, half-curious. But Faith couldn’t shake off the feeling that his question was for real, and if he didn’t like their answer, he’d do something about it.
“This was a mistake.” Selig said, “We were looking for a friend of ours and we were told,” he shot a wry look at Wesley, “that we would find her here.”
“A simple mistake. I couldn’t be completely sure as I had never been here before.” Wesley muttered defensively.
“You had to break the Bowman’s back door just to find your friend?” the handsome one was starting to sound suspicious.
“He said it was an accident, all right?” Kennedy snapped.
“Yeah. We’ll fix it.” Vi put in.
“Good idea! That old door was getting rickety, anyway.” Mrs. Bowman said eagerly, “Oh, and why don’t you just tell us what this friend of yours looks like, and maybe we can help you.”
“We don’t think so.” Rumus said abruptly. He eyeballed the two men in front of them. He didn’t trust them, “Who are you two, anyway?”
“What? Don’t you already know? I’m Grace Bowman and this is my husband Vic―”
“Not you two! I meant them!” Rumus pointed a finger at the two men. Mrs. Bowman gasped at his sharp tone and put a hand over her heart.
Gorgeous Creature slowly uncoiled, bringing both hands out of his pockets, “Hoy, amigo,” he said smoothly, “It would be wise if you would learn to show respect to your elders.”
Rumus, the perennial hothead, easily took offense, “They are not my elders!”
A strong hand gripped his shoulder. The Southern Vashkan looked up, irritated.
“Yes, but we’ve ruined their night as it is,” Wesley said genially, “This is all our fault, gentlemen. Sorry, but our friends are foreigners, you see, so don’t be offended if they don’t seem overtly friendly.”
He acted apologetic, but Wesley’s fingers tightened on Rumus’ clavicle. A warning. Something about the two men made him cautious. He didn’t know why he thought so, but these two…they were a threat.
“No problem,” the handsome one said dismissively, “I’m Nelson; this is Ryan. We were just closing up the Internet Cafe― see that fine structure over there? That’s the one. I own it. Anyway, we heard some yelling goin’ on over here and decided to come and investigate.”
“Just concerned neighbors then.” Wesley said.
“Uh-huh.” Said Ryan, formerly known as Gorgeous Creature.
“Well, aren’t you boys sweet.” Mrs. Bowman gushed, “By the way, Nelson, dear, would you mind taking a look at that computer thing our daughter sent us?”
Nelson beamed, “You finally found a use for it?”
“Oh, yeah.” Mr. Bowman grinned lecherously, “The missus and I were thinking of having cyber sex, actually.”
“What better way to spice up your week nights.” Ryan drawled.
“I’ll be over tomorrow, Mrs. B.” Nelson said, obviously used to the couple’s raging libidos already. The Rescue Squad were all in various stages of choking. Even the Vashkans, and they didn’t understand the word ‘cyber’.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but,” Rona interrupted, “Are we just gonna stand around here all night, chatting?”
Selig’s only answer was to start walking, back erect, shoulders squared.
“Guess that means ‘no’ and ‘let’s go’.” Vi muttered.
Wesley took a few more seconds to apologize and to promise to pay for the broken door. They gave the two men a wide berth, especially Kennedy. But Rona and Vi weren’t lesbians and were thankful that they were over 18.
“Bye, Ryan.” Vi smiled coyly.
“Move it.” Faith pushed the two to hurry them along. I feel like a damn old maid, she grumbled to herself.
“Oh, wait a minute, I just remembered something.” Mr. Bowman called out suddenly.
“Yes? What is it?” Rumus snapped. Ryan, and even Selig, glared at him. He pursed his lips, “I mean, of course, old mortal man, will you please share with us some of your vague memories.” He amended politely.
“Some of your relevant, and not at all lecherous memories.” Selig quickly added.
Nelson ginned. Ryan shook his head, saw Nelson grinning and smacked him on the shoulder. “Don’t laugh at foreigners.” He mouthed.
“Hmm…I don’t think I’ll tell you. You might just break down their doors, too.”
Sensing a breakthrough, Wesley pounced, “No, we won’t. We’ve learned our lesson.”
Old man Bowman stared hard at them. “I’m going to tell you, but only on one condition: no one gets hurt. If you try something nasty against one of our own, we’ll know and we’ll be on you like mascara on a drag queen―”
“― and fishnet stockings on an L.A. streetwalker.” His wife dutifully put in.
“Yes, that. The entire town will be on you, and believe me, we can be one mean lot.”
“Yes, yes, we agree to your condition. Now that you’ve successfully intimidated us into compliance, will you tell us what you remembered?” Wesley insisted.
“Hmp, fine. If you weren’t such sexy, lost burglars, we wouldn’t bother.” Mr. Bowman huffed, “But Maggie came home a few days ago. Tierre dropped by, too, earlier today. There was a young woman with him. Very beautiful, as I heard. Could be your friend.”
“It’s about time, if you ask me.” Mrs. Bowman said wisely, “An irresistible stud like Tierre shouldn’t be alone. Why, if I were only younger, I’d give him a go!”
“Don’t delude yourself. You shave two decades off your age, and any relationship you want to have with Tierre would still be illegal.” Her husband grumbled.
“There are upsides to having a young lover. I’d have so much to teach him!” Mrs. Bowman gushed.
Faith and Wesley chorused, “Now that’s just wrong!”
“Where will we find these Wolfsons?” Rumus brought them back to the track they’ve left behind several innuendoes ago.
“Oh, the boys will show you, won’t you boys?”
“Yes, Mrs. Bowman.” Ryan and Nelson said like obedient school children.
“Now, remember: no one gets hurt. Especially not Maggie. We love that girl!”
Ryan shot a mischievous glance at Nelson as they started to leave the Bowman’s, “Oh, yes we do.” He sing-songed.
Nelson shoved him and Ryan laughed.
The Rescue Team walked close together, letting the two guides walk ahead of them.
“That was a little too easy.” Wesley muttered to Faith, “And I must tell you, something about those two strike me as…odd. Almost familiar.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. I just have this feeling that they’re not just innocent strangers.”
“I don’t trust them.” Rumus was glaring holes at their guides’ backs.
“Rumus, you wouldn’t trust your own mother.” Faith said wearily.
“Do you trust them?” the Vashkan pressed.
“That’s not the main issue.”
“Of course it is.” Selig said quietly. “Those two…are strong. Especially that Ryan person. There’s something about him that reminds me of Wolfson. And perhaps…a little bit of you, Slayer.”
“I feel it too, Faith.” Kennedy concurred.
Faith nodded a little reluctantly. “Same here,” she said, “Be on your guards.”
~*~*~*~
“I think they’re talking about us behind our backs.” Thorn said to Ryan.
Ryan smiled. “I can’t blame them. The subjects are so fascinating.”
“Touche.”
~*~*~*~
“Are you sure you don’t want any dinner?” Maggie asked again. For the third time now.
Yesha stood by the large, sliding window of her room, staring blankly outside. “I am not hungry.” She said firmly.
“Still, you should eat something. You need to keep your strength up.”
“Is that so? What do you care, woman? You conspire to keep me a prisoner here!”
“You’re not a prisoner. You can leave anytime you want.”
Yesha still refused to look at her. “I have nowhere to go. And even if I did, what would the other Wolfson say about that? He brought me here. If you let me go, he will not be pleased.”
“He’ll survive.” Maggie said wryly, “Tierre doesn’t tell me what to do, and I don’t always approve of what he does. Frankly, I don’t know what he was thinking, bringing you here when you obviously don’t want to be here.”
“He claims he’s doing it to protect me.”
“You don’t believe him.”
“No. I believe I am the only one who can protect myself. I haven’t done a very good job of that as of late.”
“Staying hungry isn’t going to improve your self-esteem.”
Yesha opened her mouth to argue once more, but when she looked at Maggie, she changed her mind. The hours she’d spent here had confirmed her suspicions: the female Wolfson was even more high-handed than the male. Maggie had already managed to get Yesha out of bed, bathe herself, and change into clothes she’d insisted on lending the Vashkan.
Now she was trying to get Yesha to eat again. She’d already fed Yesha once this day; with a meal she called a ‘snack’. It had been delicious and mildly filling.
Yesha finally relented, “Would there be…cookies?”
Maggie smiled, “Only after dinner.”
~*~*~*~
“You ate a lot for someone who wasn’t hungry just a while ago.” Maggie said with a smile.
“Yes…well, the meal was very delicious.” Yesha finally admitted.
“Thanks. It’s chicken casserole. I like it made with lemons and rice, especially when Tierre makes it.”
“He eats!” Yesha cried in mock-surprise. She felt guilty, but only for Maggie’s sake, since she genuinely liked the woman. She was warm and kind, in addition to being practical and intelligent. In the elf’s opinion, Maggie’s only serious flaw was that she loved Tierre Wolfson.
“Yes.” Maggie responded dryly, “And if you cut him, he also bleeds.”
The Vashkan pursed her lips. She did not understand what the woman meant, but she easily caught the heavy sarcasm and the undercurrent of protective anger in Maggie’s words.
“Did he ever tell you what happened to me and mine?” Yesha asked quietly.
Maggie shook her head.
“No, I suppose he wouldn’t. Tell me, Maggie, what do you see when you look at me?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You think I’m human, don’t you? I look just like you, just like your beloved Tierre. But I’m not. Don’t look so surprised. I’m sure that being with him must have exposed you to the truth: that humans are only the latest in the beings born to this world.”
“I’m aware.” Maggie said simply, “So what are you?”
“I’m a Vashkan. An elf, if I may use your pitifully simplistic words, and I am one of those whose lives Tierre destroyed.”
“What exactly do you think he did to you?”
Yesha narrowed her eyes, “I’ll tell you. But this will not be a happy story.”
“Don’t worry about me, Miss Kavrois.” Maggie looked at her guest right in the eyes, “Very little shocks me nowadays.”
For the first time since she met Tierre face to face, Yesha felt doubt about her own convictions. She can sense that the woman sitting across from her was just an ordinary human being, neither witch nor Slayer. Apparently, all the supernatural gifts had been given to the male Wolfson.
And yet, the Vashkan queen could sense the woman’s inner strength. There was a core of steel running beneath her fragile human heart. She radiated a determination that rivaled Yesha’s own. Instinctively, the Vashkan queen recognized Maggie as a woman who would fight to the death in order to protect those she loved.
And so the question was this: how could the evil Tierre have earned the love and trust of someone so good and brave?
Am I wrong? Has my judgment been flawed all this time?
I had nothing to do with the massacre of you Vashkans. Tierre had told her that. But surely, he had been lying. With this thought firmly in mind, Yesha once again related the horrid events of Scarlet’s attack.
Maggie listened without saying anything. By the end of the story, she had gone pale.
“That’s…horrible. I―I’m so sorry,” she said awkwardly, “God, what am I saying?”
“Yes, it was horrible. But we’ve mourned enough.”
“And now it’s payback time.” Maggie recovered herself swiftly, “In your shoes, I would do the same thing.”
Yesha smiled coldly, “But you’re not in my shoes. And the truth is you are against me because I am a threat to Tierre.”
Maggie didn’t touch the other woman’s cold judgment, “Tell me, was Tierre there? During the attack, I mean?”
“No, he wasn’t. But he didn’t have to be.”
“So when you talked to him about it, what did he tell you? Did he offer you any reasons?”
“What makes you think I spoke to him about it at all?”
“You had no trouble talking to me. And you mentioned that Tierre says he wants to protect you. That’s not like him.” Maggie pressed, “Did he admit to being involved in the attack?”
“Of course not! Why would he admit to his own crime?”
“What did he say, exactly?”
“Nothing that I believed.”
“Oh, I see. So he told you that he had never been involved.”
Yesha sighed, “Yes. He said he had nothing to do with the massacre, and even had the gall to apologize. But as I said, I did not believe him.”
Maggie smiled, and her relief was clear as day, “Whew. For a minute there, I thought Tierre may have done something.”
“See? Even you doubt him!”
“No. I don’t. It’s just that I’m not blind and I know what Tierre is capable of. I know he’s not good― not in the traditional sense of the word, anyway ―but he is far from evil. I know him better than anyone. He just does what he can to ensure our survival.”
“And that includes the sacrifice of other people?”
“No. Tierre would never take an innocent life. That’s the part of him that he never compromised no matter what happened to him. And believe me, Tierre would never deny that his hands are stained with blood and he’s not afraid of retribution. He’s not a coward.”
“I should have known you would try to protect him first. You deliberately turn a blind eye to all this. You are no better than he is!” Yesha spat.
Maggie’s lips tightened in anger, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she stood up and started clearing the table. Wordlessly, Yesha began to help. She and Maggie reached for a glass at the same time.
“You don’t need to help me.” Maggie said.
“And you didn’t need to feed me.” Yesha replied.
With a shrug, Maggie let the elf have the glass. She remained silent. Yesha wasn’t ready to listen to her yet― and she probably never will be. But after what happened to her, could Maggie really blame her?
Defending Tierre was hard work. Maggie had often wished she had powers, too, so she could fight by his side the way Ryan did― even if Ryan would never admit to fighting on anybody’s side but his own.
But Maggie didn’t have their strength, nor their skills. She had always secretly thought of herself as a burden to Tierre.
So she fought for him the only way she knew how…by never leaving his side. For some reason, people trusted her. Even those who always assumed the worst of Tierre ( and there were many ) seemed to at least like her. Even Yesha was careful to spare her feelings at first. Nelson had once informed her, in his slow, lazy way, that she was the one irrefutable evidence that Tierre was indeed a human being with a beating heart.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a bright flash of pain sliced across Maggie. She gasped as it traveled from her spine to spread in the general area of her torso. Her knees buckled, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. No! she roared inside with all the defiance in her heart, Go away! Go away now!
She tried to grab the edge of the table to steady herself, but she missed and instead caught the table cloth. She fell to the floor, the dinnerware shattering.
Yesha jumped and turned to see what was wrong. “Maggie!” she exclaimed, “What happened?”
Maggie wrapped her arms around her torso. God, it hurt to breathe. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, unaware that she had grown deathly pale. But when she heard Yesha, she forced her eyes open and smiled. Or at least she tried to smile. She looked more like she was grimacing. “It’s…it’s nothing. Don’t worry.”
Yesha cleared the broken plates away from Maggie. She was lucky that the worst she got was a shallow cut on her leg. “Tell me what I have to do.” Even worried, Yesha sounded like she was giving an order. Which she was. She wanted Maggie to focus on her, and not her pain.
“It…it’ll go away…” Maggie was breathing harshly through her mouth.
Not knowing what else to do, Yesha put her palms together and placed her lips very close to the tips of her fingers. Her eyes closed and she started murmuring an oracion. She then placed her palms on Maggie’s shoulders. A gentle orange glow emanated from the Vashkan’s palms.
“Your hands…what’s happening? Why are they hot?” Maggie noted weakly. She felt the heat seep past her clothes, pouring gently on her skin, and delving beneath that layer to envelop her muscles, blood, bone. The heat suffused her from the inside, and the pain actually receded. It began to fade until it was simply gone.
The redhead slumped bonelessly into Yesha’s arms, “Whatever it was you did, thank you.”
“It was an oracion to Olsea.”
“Who’s that? A new rock star?”
Yesha chuckled and helped Maggie up. “I do not know what kind of star that is. But Olsea is one of the elfin deities. We call upon her for healing. I’m not certain if we can cure human illness. But are you feeling better?”
“You chased away the pain.” Maggie replied gratefully. “I seriously doubt that you healed me, though. A million thanks, just the same.”
“Elfin deities rarely bless humans. I suppose Olsea likes you.”
“Really? You wouldn’t happen to have her e-mail ad, wouldja?”
“Maggie, what happened?”
“Nothing. I’m fine now.”
“Will it happen again? You must tell me. I can only take away the pain. A full healing would take one at the top of her strength. And I am not at my best at the moment. I just healed from my own wounds.”
The sound of the front door opening and closing drew the women’s attentions. A little girl with her blond hair in pigtails bounded into the kitchen, “Maggie, I’m here!” she froze at the sight of Yesha, big, blue eyes instantly suspicious, “Who’re you?”
Maggie frowned, “Hope, you know better than to be rude to a guest.”
“Guest? You didn’t say anything about a guest.”
“She’s a surprise guest. This is Yesha Kavrois. Yesha, this is Hope.”
“The one who takes piano lessons.” Yesha smiled. What a beautiful child. But her eyes remained narrowed as she regarded Yesha with bold suspicion.
“You have a weird name.” she said. She came to stand by Maggie. There was something about the way she stood. Something undeniably protective.
Another of Wolfson’s minions! But she is just a child! “Are you…Scarlet?” Yesha didn’t want to hear the answer.
Hope wrinkled her button nose, “Me? No way!” she stuck her tongue out. Just then, she spied the broken plates in the corner, “Maggie, what happened?”
“Nothing, honey.”
The little girl slid a glance towards Yesha, the message unmistakable. With an understanding smile, Yesha left the dining room.
“Are you all right?” Hope asked, as soon as the queen was gone.
“Yeah. Don’t worry.”
“Did you take your medicine?”
“No, mom, but I will.” Maggie chucked her in the chin, “You’re starting to sound more and more like Tierre everyday.”
“I’m not that bad. Do you want to cancel our lesson tonight?”
“Don’t be silly. Go on, set things up. And you better be nice to Yesha, okay?”
~*~*~*~
“So, how come you guys are so gung-ho about getting your friend back? What, did Tierre kidnap her or something?” Nelson asked jokingly, glancing at Wesley and giving his outfit the once-over. Rona had accidentally mentioned that it was a lucky break that they had people to point them to the Wolfsons’ place, as it saved them the time of a search.
“Yes, he did.” Rumus said bluntly.
Nelson chuckled, “Good for him.”
Selig bristled, “Since when was taking someone against their will considered as ‘good’?”
“Relax, I was joking. I just wanna say that Tierre’s not the type to kidnap people. I mean, what for? He’s already abominably rich.”
“How well do you know Tierre?” Wesley asked, hoping he wouldn’t get caught fishing.
“Well enough.” Nelson shrugged. “I used to live in New York. That’s where I met him. I moved here so I can get away from the corporate rat race, you know?”
“Too bad.” Ryan deadpanned, “You were the biggest rat of them all.”
“Pay no attention to Ryan. He’s a retard.”
“You don’t look like a retard.” Faith said, on a burst of semi-loyalty. Or something.
“The worst ones never do.” Nelson said gravely.
The Vashkans walked closely together, murmuring to each other. Nelson and Ryan paid no attention. Wesley and the Slayers waited tensely for the other shoe to drop.
“So…is Tierre Wolfson at home?” Selig finally prodded.
“No. Went back to New York. Why?” Ryan turned his head to look at the Vashkan.
Rumus stealthily went up to walk beside Ryan, pushing Nelson aside. Now Selig was on Ryan’s left and Rumus was on his right, “And this…Maggie person. Who is she to Tierre?”
“Why do you ask?”
“We were just wondering. She carries his name.”
“No, he carries her name.” Nelson corrected, “Maggie is the original Wolfson, not T-Wolf.”
Faith kept her mouth shut. Maggie Wolfson was Tierre’s friend. The same Maggie whose invisible presence accompanied Tierre in the Yorkshire woods. But the dark Slayer couldn’t say anything without arousing their guides’ suspicions.
But she was getting a bad feeling in her gut. Just what were these elves up to?
“…so, Maggie Wolfson is Tierre’s only family?” Selig wanted to know.
“Yeah.”
“You could say that.”
Rumus smiled smugly. “She must be infinitely precious to him.”
Nelson gave the two ‘foreigners’ a look, “You guys are weird, you know that?” he commented, “Anyway, we’re here.”
~*~*~*~
It was simply called the Wolfson Ranch; a wide spread of fertile land that gave off the tempting atmosphere of home. At the heart of the spread was a stately two-story ranch house with a wide porch. The porch had a wooden two-seater swing on the right and a long, rattan sofa on the left. The house was painted a fresh white, and the windows had dark-green shutters.
Faith spotted the outlines of the outbuildings, scattered about behind the main house. She didn’t pay them much mind. She was mesmerized by the house in front of her. It closely resembled the dream house she used to fantasize about when she was a kid and such dreams were still okay to have.
“This is a working ranch?” she heard Wesley ask.
“Yeah. What else would it be?” that was Ryan. His deep voice instantly drew her ear, if not her complete attention, so she was already half-listening in.
“Who runs it?”
“Maggie.”
“So, she lives here all the time, then?”
“Only in the summer, spring and Christmas.”
“What about the rest of the year? Who takes care of the place?”
“I do.” Ryan said, rather proudly, “I’m the foreman.”
Faith looked up at him, surprised, “You work for Tierre?”
“Hell no! I work for Maggie!” Ryan sniffed, offended, “Tierre is a pain in the ass. Who would work for him?”
Nelson snickered, “Yeah, he is. Anyways, you guys had better stay here while we go talk to her. She comes here to relax and she doesn’t like it when unexpected visitors drop by out of nowhere.”
The team watched as the two went up to the house. When they were gone, Rumus and Selig began to creep their way towards the house, flanking either side.
“Hey, what’re you two doing?” Faith hissed. She tried to make a grab for Rumus, but he simply evaded her grasp. Within a second, they have blended into the shadows.
“Bloody hell! What were they thinking?”
So Maggie Wolfson is Tierre’s only family?
She must be infinitely precious to him.
Faith clenched her jaw in anger, “God. They’re going after Maggie.” She was already moving, the younger Slayers instinctively following her lead. The Vashkans were already by the house, ducking out of light range.
And then Faith saw Rumus peek into a window. He stayed there, visible, for a few seconds, before drifting away again.
The Slayer rushed forward on silent feet. Like a cat stalking its prey, she made absolutely no sound as she coiled and pounced on the first Vashkan she came across.
The Vashkans were also equally quiet― no cries of alarm, no grunts of pain, no swearing out of anger ―punctuated their actions. Rumus fell on his back and brought his knees to his chest. As soon as Faith descended towards him, he kicked her away from him. Faith sailed through the air, hit the ground, tucked, rolled and was up in a crouch in only a heartbeat, eyes glittering dangerously.
The three Slayers went after Selig. The Northern Vashkan knew that he was outnumbered. He knew that if he fought, he could cause them sufficient damage, but he wasn’t going to win. And he would only end up wasting time.
So he went to his last resort. Magick.
Rona and Vi were coming for Selig on either side of him, while the bold and bitter Kennedy was up front. Selig had his palms out on both sides. A silent blast of electric-white light hit both Rona and Vi. The two Slayers were violently thrown aside.
Kennedy’s eyes widened in shock. She was used to magick, of course, but not once tonight had the two Vashkans ever given a hint that they knew some tricks as well. She’d let her guard down around them.
The price for her leniency was defeat. Selig’s fist connected with her forehead. Kennedy saw stars, constellations of them.
Faith couldn’t go to their aid, since Rumus was really making her work it.
Good thing, then, that Wesley was there, armed and ready to roll. The tip of Wesley’s .45 dug into Selig’s forehead the moment the Vashkan looked up from Kennedy’s fallen form.
“I believe you recognize this kind of weapon, your majesty.” The ex-Watcher said softly, “Don’t make me use it on you.”
TBC
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Okay, guys, I have to explain this chapter first. This chapter here is actually much longer in the original version, and it went past the maximum allowed words. I had to cut it and now there will be two chapters. I apologize a lot for this. Personally, I prefer only one chapter, but this site has its own rules and since I like it here, I'll follow them. I hope you guys don't mind so much. : )