Part Eleven
 

Xander pulled the van into the hotel’s parking lot at around 11:35. Angel sat next to him — it was amazing, Xander thought, that while he gave Angel the hardest time he was the one who wound up working with him the most often. He and Angel got out and started walking away.

From the back of the van, a still bound, Ethan said, “You’re going to need me to help reset that geas, you know. While she can’t do anything except in self-defense, any move you make to restrain her will let her work her magic on you. Not something I imagine you’d look forward to.”

“We can’t trust him,” Xander said, walking a few feet away and speaking quietly.

“Which doesn’t mean he’s not telling the truth,” Angel answered. “From what I know of Catherine Madison, if she wasn’t being restrained in some way she’d be planning her vengeance.”

“So … what?” Xander asked.

“Bring him along and threaten to throw him through a window if he even blinks funny,” Angel said.

Xander’s eyebrows raised. “Liking that plan.”

“Thought you would.” Having settled that, they went into the back of the van and dragged Ethan out.

As they did so, the chaos worshipper said, “Good to see you decided to do the sensible thing.”

Xander said, “Try anything funny …”

“I know, I know,” Ethan interrupted, “and you’ll have my guts stringing your tennis racket, my head for a bowling ball and my eyes for marbles. I’ve been threatened so often with athletics-related dismemberment I’m considering opening my own chain of sporting goods stores.” He paused. “And oh, I might suggest one more thing: Untying me? Even the most jaded of desk clerks is bound to become a tad suspicious when confronted by the sight of a bound man slung artfully over one shoulder, especially when the man in question, namely me, is screaming his lungs out.”

Angel grudgingly reached down and snapped Ethan’s bindings, and the sorcerer stretched his muscles and then took off at a brisk walk towards the front door of the hotel. It was quarter till midnight by the time they finally got upstairs, and the walk up to the third floor room was uneventful. Ethan had told Oz the number before they’d dropped the werewolf off, and what a miracle, he’d been telling the truth. Key in lock, door open, Faith being plastered against a wall by a pattern of blue energy, Catherine glaring at her …

Faith? What the hell was she doing here? Besides cussing her lungs out.

They didn’t have time for much wondering, because Ethan abruptly shouted a phrase in Latin, tore the door back open, and raced down the hall.

“What the —?” Xander asked.

“Oh,” Catherine said sweetly as identical coils of blue energy snared towards Xander and Angel, “he just released me from my geas. This means I can kill you all now …”

As he felt himself hit a flipped-around mirror, Xander turned to Angel and said, “I told you we couldn’t trust him.”

“Shut up,” was Angel’s reply.

*                              *                              *

Oz briefed them further on the situation with Catherine as the three of them drove to the hotel. Basically, geas, ends at midnight, have to stop her, she’s only allowed magic to defend herself, etc., etc., etc. They arrived at the mostly darkened hotel at 11:45 and without much trouble managed to slip past the enormously bored desk clerk and head upstairs.

About five seconds after they took their first steps onto the hotel’s hallway carpeting, Ethan Rayne barreled past them, so quickly that he didn’t even seem to recognize them as he sped away. The remnants of a spell effect could be seen emanating from a doorway three down. Willow flattened herself against the near wall, followed an instant later by Oz. Wesley stood in the middle of the hallway, gawping and confused, until thirty seconds later Willow started breathing again and gestured for everyone to get in close.

“Thanks for being a target,” Oz whispered as Wesley moved in.

“What?” the Watcher asked in a normal tone of voice.

Leaning in close to Wesley, Willow hissed, “Are you trying to get us killed? There’s a witch in there powerful enough to send Ethan Rayne running for his life, and first you stand in the middle of the hallway and then you do your best to warn Catherine the Great that we’re on our way in. If they had courses in how to move quietly at that Watcher training school, I’m sure you flunked. Now please keep it down.” Willow could hear a few muffled curses coming through the closed door; one of them sounded almost like … Faith? What the hell was evilgirl doing there?

Never mind. They edged as close as they dared and listened to the proceedings inside. Catherine was blustering and threatening both her daughter (thank God! Amy’s still alive in there) and everyone else. They were close enough that Willow could hear their voices.

Faith spoke up. “Look. I can see you got power. The boss and me, we can respect that. Fact is, we could use someone like you. Want to take out the Slayer and her pals? Us, too! Just let me out, I’ll clue the boss in to your plan, and we can make sure that we stay out of your way and that you keep out of ours. What do you say to that?”

“I’d say no if I were you,” Angel’s voice came. “The Mayor’s allies have this nasty tendency of ending up dead.”

“I don’t NEED allies, and I don’t care for your Mayor and his plans. All I wanted was to be popular again. Was that so wrong of me?” She paused, took a deep breath, and said, “The way I see it is this: I leave any of you alive, it’ll be a lot harder to cover my tracks. So …”

Xander muttered, “Do all you supervillains go to the same school of how to give pompous speeches?” But Willow wasn’t paying too close attention. Really, she’d been half tempted to bring Anya’s pistol along — but there was no way she could use it, Oz was even less fond of guns than she was and Wesley’s feelings about guns were already well known. She didn’t have any mirrors on her … so Buffy’s solution was out. Then an idea hit her … she closed her eyes, took a deep, cleansing breath, and said something under her breath.

After she was done, Oz whispered, “What was that …?” Alright, it wasn’t going to be a traditional spell, but under the circumstances … well, if she didn’t HAVE a mirror …

She whispered back, “Follow my lead.”

Putting an arm on her shoulder, Wesley asked — sotto voce this time, so he’d learned his lesson — “What do you think you’re doing? We can’t just go charging in there —”

“Stay in the hallway if you want, then,” Willow answered as she strode boldly up to the room and opened the door.

Inside, Xander, Angel and Faith were pinned helplessly against a wall in a field of blue energy, only their heads able to move. Amy was trying to burrow her way under the sheets on the bed, but not having much luck. Catherine Madison’s head spun to look at the newcomers.

Xander said, “Willow! Get out!”

“No, Willow, by all means —” The door slammed shut behind her, into Wesley’s face, trapping he and Oz in the corridor. “— stay.”

“I was planning to,” Willow answered a lot more calmly than she felt. “I don’t think I really got a chance to get a good look at you — you know, way back when Buffy kicked your ass and trapped you in the trophy.”

Angel, Xander, and even Faith looked at Willow like she’d just gone insane. Maybe she had — as a witch, Catherine was to her what a leopard was to a bobcat. But there was no way she was going to hang back and let Catherine hurt her friends.

Now, if it had just been Faith in the room … well, Willow wouldn’t have given it a second thought.

Anyway. Angry witch in front of her. The witch in question said, “Are you TRYING to get me angry?” Then she paused. “I think you are. Nice try, but it’s not going to work.” Pounding came from the door outside. Oz and Wesley were obviously making a concerted effort to break it down.

“Hmmm.” Willow said nonchalantly. “It looks like you’ve had some time to think … you know, when you were locked away in that trophy.”

Angrily, Catherine said, “Quit mentioning that damned trophy!”

“Why? I mean, we all know that’s where you’ll end up again this time. You can’t win, you know.” Outwardly, Willow was cool; inwardly, of course, she was shaking like it was winter and she was in a bikini. “You should have realized that while you were trapped. But no, instead, you come out with murder and revenge on your mind. Obviously SOMEONE needs a little more quiet time.”

Catherine walked up until she was right in Willow’s face. “You like talking about my trophy so much … why don’t YOU go spend some time in it and get some perspective, you little bitch?”

Willow could feel Catherine began to gather her power. With any luck, she wouldn’t notice Willow concentrate herself. “I’m rubber,” the young witch said, “and you’re glue. Whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks to you.”

And the Great one screamed and cast her spell … and the spell worked just as Willow had hoped. The yellow energy rebounded from Willow and struck Catherine full in the face.

And then she was gone, and Faith, Angel and Xander tumbled to the floor simultaneously. On the bed, Amy started chittering happily, climbing onto the bed nearer Willow and practically leaping onto her shoulder. Behind Willow, Oz and Wesley abruptly broke the lock and came stumbling into the room, landing in a graceless heap at her feet. Looking up at Wesley, Oz said, “This is where you say, ‘We’re here to rescue you.’” The Watcher snorted as he stood up.

As Xander approached, giving her a quick hug, he said, “I’m rubber and you’re glue?”

“I figured, if I didn’t have a mirror, I’d BE a mirror.”

Angel reminded them, “The problem’s not over.” Everyone turned to look at Faith.

“Let’s see,” the evil one said. “Only one of you I’d need to worry about is Angel. I think I could fight my way through you. Might even kill a few of you in the process …”

“Faith,” Wesley began. “You need help. Allow me to contact the Watcher’s Council and —”

The ex-Slayer spat on the floor. “I got no intention of letting a bunch of stuffy British pricks try to brainwash me into thinking the way they want me to think. Way I see it, now’s the time I’m fulfilling my destiny, not wasting my life killing this demon or that vampire. This is what I was made to do and it’s a LOT more fun.”

“Do you have any idea how immature you sound?” Willow asked.

“Do I care? Look. I could fight my way out of here, or we could call it a cease fire. I got no particular beef with —” she glared at Angel, a glare he calmly returned — “Well, most of you, at least not until the boss tells me to.”

Wesley protested, but no one was really paying attention. Willow, Oz, Xander and Angel exchanged glances; then, as one, all four of them moved out of the direct path to the door. Angel dragged Wesley backwards and Faith walked towards the door. As she got to the doorway she suddenly spun in place and said, “Catch!” as she threw a stake at Angel’s heart.

Wesley lashed out a hand and knocked the stake into the wall. Stunned by the turn of events, Faith bolted. Grimacing and whimpering in pain, Wesley looked at the four in turn and said, through short, staccato breaths, “I told you so.”

Right then Buffy came into the room. “Okay guys …” she said. “What did I miss?”
 

Previous Section               Next Section