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Part Four: 7:30pm Sunnydale, CaliforniaAt 7:30 PM local time the Harris’ plane touched down at Sunnydale Airport. Little more than a pair of landing strips and a ramshackle terminal building, it was nonetheless a lot more convenient than LAX would have been, even it meant flying the last four hours of their trip in a tiny charter plane.
Cordelia Harris hated flying, but she hated small planes most of all. No way to touch up her makeup (unless she wanted lipstick smeared all over her face), no way to keep clothes pressed, and the damn thing wasn’t stable enough to let her write out more than a few preliminary ideas for he column. She glanced over at her still-sleeping husband and kicked him awake a little harder than necessary.
“Rrhh? What? Not the closet again, Cordy …”
“Wake up, numbskull. We’re here.” Xander groggily pulled himself together, they both patted each other down to make sure that they were armed and ready for vampire-hunting, and they left the plane. They waited for their baggage (miracle of miracles, she’d limited herself to three bags, a carry-on, and a large purse) and headed out to wait at the deserted taxi stand. Taking no chances, Willow had said that she’d send a driver out with a “special message” that only they’d be able to understand.
Five minutes later, a black car pulled up, with tinted windows, and a large, beefy man got out and said, “You the Harrises?”
“Finally!” Cordy picked up a suitcase.
“Hold it. What’s the password?” Xander asked.
“Password? this some kind of joke?”
“Yup. That’s why I’m laughing, pretty-boy.” To Cordy he whispered, “Get ready,” and fingered the cross-stake he had under his suit.
“Tough talk, macho man,” she whispered back. He grinned despite the situation.
“That’s a good one. The password is … DEATH!” Suddenly his face changed and three vampires poured out of the back of the car. Xander staked the first one to come near, while Cordelia whipped out the spray-vial of holy water she had in her jacket, and the second one backed off, face burning.
Seeing that the Harrises weren’t going to go down as easily as they’d hoped, the vamps changed their tack. They obviously thought they still had the advantage. Prettyboy yelled arrogantly, “Okay, guys, on three we rush ’em.” Xander and Cordelia drew their stakes and braced for the assault.
“One, two, thr–” He choked, then turned to ashes. A short muscular girl with shoulder-length red hair stood there. “Three, blood-breath.” The other two turned to face this new threat when a tall, pale blonde silently walked behind one and viciously twisted its neck. She smiled coldly. Xander quickly staked the prone vampire, and the four of them circled the remaining one. Quickly deciding she didn’t like these new odds, she vaulted onto the car roof and dashed off. The redhead jumped over the Cadillac and caught up quickly as the other three followed.
“Give the Master our regards,” Xander said as she staked it. The redhead dusted herself off, stood up and extended a hand. Xander and Cordelia stood there.
“Oh, that’s right. Regan?”
The pale blonde — Regan, apparently — walked forward and said to Cordy, “Nice outfit. Good to know you’ve seen the softer side of Sears.” Cordy laughed. Xander looked puzzled.
Cordelia turned to her husband and said, “That’s one of the nastiest things I ever told Willow.” Cordy was oddly pleased to see her husband flush; it had been a vicious insult, no question. Belatedly they shook the redhead’s hand.
“I’m Emily Harding, the Slayer. Phantom Lady over there is Regan Leary.” Regan bowed her head slightly but said nothing. “So, you ready to blow this ashtray? Good!” Emily chirped.
“Nice technique,” Xander observed.
“Thanks. You think? Ms. Rosenberg says I really need to work on my weaponry a bit more, but I guess you wouldn’t be able to tell. I —”
Regan put a hand over Emily’s mouth and turned to the Harrises. “Bitch always babbles after a kill.”
Stunned, they were surprised to see Emily laugh. “Thanks, Reeg.”
“If I didn’t tell you to shut up, who would?” They all walked to a beat-up tan station wagon. Cordelia was ready to complain about the lack of space for her luggage when Regan froze her with a look. Xander sighed and began tying it to the roof.
* * *
Willow Rosenberg talked quietly in her office with two others.
“Anything, Cale?”
The boy said no, disappointedly. “And you?” she said, turning to the room’s other occupant.
“Only what I told you already — she’s large and enormously powerful, and she’s gathering her forces. I also got a sense of great age — as I ran for my life.”
“That description also fits the first Master, and we beat him.” She paused. “I wish I could find something on this Elsza, but she’s a complete enigma. I’ve got something else connected to the prophecy, but it was written in half a dozen different languages by someone who makes Brother Mikos look sane.”
“Well?” Cale asked.
“No. I’d rather wait. No sense in doing it twice.” She heard the library’s outer doors opening. “They’re here!” she said excitedly. Cale walked out. She turned to the other occupant. “You. Stay.”
“I’m a statue.” Willow rushed out the door, almost knocking Cale over, and looked at the doors. Cordy was complaining about the ride. Gee, I wonder WHO forgot to tell them Regan’s as bad a driver as she was? she thought. She shrieked in delight and ran over to jump into a startled Xander’s arms. Regan and Emily walked around the trio and joined Cale, who was sitting at one of the tables.
“Cordy? Help. There’s this enormous weight in my arms.”
“Enormous!” She slapped him playfully.
“Average?” Another slap. “Tiny?”
“You’re damn right, tiny!” She jumped down and hugged Cordelia. “What, nothing about don’t wrinkle your clothes?” She stepped back and regarded her studiously. “Who are you and what have you done with Cordelia?”
Cordelia looked down her nose, a glint of humor in her eyes. “I see WalMart’s in no danger of going out of business anytime soon.” Then the three hugged again.
“All right!” Xander said. “The original Slayerettes ride again!”
“A little louder, knucklehead. I don’t think they heard you in El Salvador.” Cordelia hit her husband’s shoulder.
“Um, yeah. Come sit down. Emily —” She carefully seated everyone around the table. “This is Cale Benjamin,” she said, introducing the quiet, athletic man the Harrises hadn’t met. “And, um —”
Emily interrupted and explained about the attack, with occasional snide comments from Regan. After Willow had absorbed this, Xander spoke.
“Well, Will? We’re all here. Who do we have to kill this time? Zombies? Aliens?” Xander looked up into the opening door of the office. His expression changed from exuberance to rage and he pulled a stake from his jacket.
“Emily, grab him!” Willow said quickly. Emily easily held down the struggling Xander. Cordelia had been preoccupied with her husband’s anger. She looked up to confirm what she suspected.
Xander screamed, “Angel, you son of a bitch!”