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Chapter 30

Murk sat staring into his glass of beer at the bar of the Rusty Beaver. He wasn’t broody. No, the minions of Glory were never broody. That would simply never do for the beautiful, wondrous Hell-God otherwise known as Glorificus. However, when she wasn’t happy, the minions weren’t happy either.

Murk glanced sideways when a handsome, clean cut vampire slipped into the seat beside him. The vampire raised one hand to the bartender to bring him a beer. Murk went back to gazing at this drink.

“I know where to find what you’re looking for.”

Murk jerked around to stare at the vampire. Did it just say what he thought it said? Could this unclean, filthy creature know how to find the Key.

“The name’s Graham Miller.”

The bartender came up and put down a beer in front of Miller before he returned to the end of the bar where he watched the onstage dancer.

“You know who the Key is?” Murk whispered. His eyes darted back and forth as he looked at the other demons seated around the strip joint.

“Yeah, I was able to convince the Slayers I wasn’t a threat.” Graham took a drink of his beer. “I heard them talking. I’ll give you the information for a fee. I want out of Sunnydale, and I need money.”

“You’re a vamp. Just take what you want,” Murk suggested.

“I’m about to double cross the Slayers, stupid.” Graham glared at the minion. “I’m not just a muscle bound jock. I know I’ll need to lay low for a few decades.” He took another drink of his beer, and then he stood up. “I’ll be back tomorrow for my answer.”

Murk watched the vampire stroll out of the strip joint. He had to admit Miller was very calm and collected for someone about to rat out the Slayers’ biggest secret. Murk knew he needed to talk to Glory. He too left the Rusty Beaver.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next night, Murk waited for the vampire Miller to arrive. Her majestic, gloriousness was thrilled when Murk had come back to the penthouse with information that a vampire knew where the Key was situated. He let out a sigh of relief when Miller sauntered into the strip club. The vampire gave the girl on stage a brief look before he crossed the room to where Murk was seated.

Graham sat down beside the scabby minion. “Well?”

“She is pleased.” Murk nodded. “She will give you a million dollars for the information, but we need until tomorrow to collect it.”

“Excellent.” Graham mentally cheered. “Meet me at the vacant lot at the southern edge of town tomorrow night at ten. I’ll only give the information to Glorificus herself.”

Murk was excited. Soon they would all be going home. He sure missed home; the smells, the foods, the females. “Thank you. Thank you. My beautiful, glorious One will be so happy.

“Glad to be of service.” Graham got to his feet, and he left the way he came in.

On the stage, Buffy watched Graham leave the strip club. Within minutes, the Hell-God’s minion departed too. Buffy nodded to one of Clem’s half-breed cousins whose job it was to follow the shorter demon.

“So, Spike, we’re square?” Bernd ‘the Zoof’ Achen, so nicknamed for the sound of his allergic sneezes to the kitten poker currency, and owner of the Rusty Beaver, glanced over at the bleached blond vampire who was avidly watching the girl jiggling around on the stage. “I let your girl dance for you, and now my kitten I.O.U.s to you are gone?”

“You bet.” Spike turned to give the other male demon a grin. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip. “Who knew my innocent little Beth had such a naughty streak?”

“Well, that innocent has attracted quite a bit of attention,” Bernd replied. He pointed at the group of Fyral demons that were hooting and hollering at the petite vampiress gyrating on the stage. “I can tell you there are some Fyral females gonna be happy tonight.”

Spike’s eyes narrowed. “They won’t be a problem, will they?”

“Nah, they know better than to harass any of my girls. I know their mates personally anyway.” Bernd let out a laugh. “Those boys don’t want to get on my bad side.”

“Well, it isn’t like m’girl and I couldn’t take on a herd of Fyrals.” Spike leaned back against the bar.

“Well, if your girl ever needs a new career, give me a ring,” Bernd replied. “She’s a natural.”

“Maybe,” Spike said softly. “When there aren’t any more maniacs trying to end the world.”

“Hmm, guess that means never, I suppose.” Bernd sounded disappointed. Then, he brightened considerably. “Maybe you’ll enjoy the results so much you’ll ask her to dance again. Just give me some warning so I can advertise.” He gave Spike a wink before he strolled off.

Spike watched as Beth slinked off the stage. She gave him a come-hither look, and he hurried backstage to collect his prize.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Graham leaned against his car as he waited for Glory and her minions to show up. Lying on the hood was a file filled with pictures of the Dawnbot going about her everyday business. The ex-soldier hoped that the Scoobies were successful this night because he really didn’t want to live in a hell world where food was scarce.

Graham knew Riley was across the street on the rooftop with a sniper rifle to take out the minions. Good old Riley wasn’t his first choice as a sniper, but their choices where limited. He also knew that both Slayers and all three Aurelian vampires were somewhere close. He could feel the zing of their presence beneath his skin, but he had no idea where they were hiding. Graham was sure that the two humans, Giles and Harris, were parked down the street in a car with darkened windows.

Graham glanced up from his musing when a car pulled up behind his own. Out of the back seat poured more of the scabby little minions while a dark-haired man stepped out from behind the wheel. Before Graham could say a word, the other man transformed into a blond-haired woman. The astonished vampire was barely able to keep his shock under control.

“Do you have the information?” Glory demanded.

“Right here.” Graham reached over to tap the folder. “Do you have the cash?”

Glory snapped her fingers, and Murk pulled a briefcase out of the car. He brought it around to the front of Ben’s car where he laid it on the trunk.

“Right here, vampire.”

“Open it. Let me see the cash.” Graham waited while Murk complied. “It’s been great doing business with you, but I don’t think the Slayers are going to be too happy about this.”

“I want my Key,” Glory screamed. “I don’t care what the Slayers want.”

“That’s too bad.” Cassie melted out of the darkness. “But to be honest, we don’t care what you want either.”

Faith stepped out across from Cassie. She gave the Hell-god a disdainful sniff. “No wonder the Queen C said you’re a fashion reject. I’ve seen homeless hags dressed better than you.”

“I have something for you, Glory.” Cassie pulled the Dagon’s sphere out from behind her back. She held it out towards the Hell-God.

Glory let out a scream. “Where did you find that thing?”

“That’s an interesting skin you hide inside, bitch.” Buffy appeared as if out of nowhere. She held the troll hammer in her hands. “I have something for you, too.” She attacked the Hell-God as two arrows flew through the air towards the scabby little minions.

Murk let out a scream as two of his compatriots fell down dead with arrows straight between the eyes. He dropped to his hands and knees, scrambling away from the scene. He was stopped by two pairs of black clad legs blocking his escape.

“Looky here, Angelus,” an accented voice drawled. “I believe we found ourselves a runner.”

“Looks like a crawler to me,” another voice drawled.

Murk looked up to find two vampires grinning wickedly down at him. He whimpered in fear as he knew who these vampires were; half of the Scourge of Europe weren’t demons to be trifled with.

“Just like a minion to abandon their master during a fight.” Spike kicked Murk aside.

“Good thing he isn’t one of mine,” Angel snarled. “I never took too kindly to deserters.”

“Well, from the looks of it, it won’t matter. Glory’s going down.” Spike pointed to where one of the Slayers held the Dagon sphere while Buffy took care of the Hell-God with the troll hammer. “I think this fight is going to be a bit anti-climatic, Angelus. Nothing for us vamps to do but watch our women work.”

“The Slayers don’t realize that the Hell-Bitch is wearing another body,” Angel observed.

“Kill the host, kill the bitch.” Spike nodded. “Not exactly difficult, but the Slayers might object to killing an innocent. Good thing the witches are going to send them to a hell dimension.”

“Good thing. Otherwise I say what the Slayers don’t know won’t hurt them,” Angel replied.

Two more of Glory’s minions fell dead as arrows zinged through the air. In the building across the street, Riley watched the proceedings with a jaundiced eye. He had no idea what his purpose was for, but he carefully squeezed off a shot at the creature that Faith was deftly keeping the glowing ball away from by playing catch with Cassie. When the bullet hit Glory, it didn’t kill her, but she did stagger backwards into Buffy’s range. One hard hit to the side of the head, and the Hell-God fell down to her knees.

From their vantage point, Tara and Serina helped Willow open a portal to the hell dimension just beyond Quor-toth. It appeared in front of Glory, and Buffy shoved the Hell-God though the whirling vortex with the head of the troll hammer.

Murk saw the portal, and he dived towards it, hitting the center just before it closed up behind himself and his Mistress.

“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” Spike snarled. He strolled over to Buffy, swept her up in his arms, and kissed her for all he was worth.

“That was almost a bit anti-climatic,” Cassie said.

“None of us died. So, I say it was just perfectly climatic,” Faith said hotly, her eyes glued to the smooching vampires.

“I think they have the right idea.” Cassie bounded over to Angel, and she engaged him in a lip lock like Spike and Buffy.

“Some girls have all the luck,” Faith muttered. “Hurry up and get your ass here, Ri.”





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