Gods And Monsters

Chapter Eighty-six:

Once up the stairs and on the ground level of the house, Spike and Hel lingered outside the living room for a brief moment, listening in on the discussion that was taking place.

"And you're certain this is the best course of action?" Giles inquired sceptically, "you don't even know what this man has of yours— if he, in fact, has anything."

"It could be a girl, a potential trying to get to us." Came Buffy's firm reply.

"Could be a stapler." He countered.

"Going in anyway."

"With the girls? Most of whom have yet to be in the field, let alone in a life or death situation."

"Then it's time we test them. Look, I'll just take the ones that have been here the longest. The rest can stay behind."

Spike appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame. "Could be that's just what he wants you to do— the old bait-and-switch."

Hel stood behind him, silent. She preferred to observe, to take in information, rather than to speak.

"Yeah, he lures us away, and then kills the girls we leave behind." Willow added.

"I know. That's why I need you to stay here with them. You're my most powerful weapon, Will. I know you can keep them safe if anything happens." Buffy explained, adamant not to abandon her plan.

"An unknown man breezes into town, says he has something of yours. Buffy, this thing's got 'trap' written all over it." Interjected Xander.

"He won't be expecting a full attack— not this soon. That's why we have to move." Buffy declared emphatically.

"We know nothing about this man. We cannot go into battle unprepared. We have to have more time." Insisted Giles.

"Giles, we don't have time. And you're not going into battle. I need you to stay behind with the others. Help the girls who still need a teacher."

Giles sighed, exasperated by her stubborn refusal to change her mind, and gave up trying to change her mind.

At Buffy's request, Xander gathered the Potentials in the living room for battle preparation.

Meanwhile, Spike and Hel abandoned the crowd in favour of the crisp night air, electing to wait outside on the porch instead of in the cramped living room. There they stood, side by side, in comfortable silence. He indulged in a quick cigarette, drawing in leisurely puffs and exhaling tendrils of smoke into the darkness. She inspected her nails, checking for chips in their glossy black varnish.

It wasn't long until they were joined by Faith, Buffy, Xander, Kennedy, Rona, Molly, Chao-Ahn, Amanda, and another potential who had yet to be formally introduced. In all honestly, their names  and faces were beginning to blur together, due to the sheer number of them.

A short journey across town later, and they were face-to-face with the Shadow Valley Vineyards, which was supposedly the preacher's lair.

Before entering the structure, Buffy paused to address the group. "Okay. Set up a perimeter. Guard the door." She instructed, "I don't want anything getting in behind us. My team goes in first, we check the place out. You guys are our safety net. If this place is a trap, we give the signal, you guys come in, guns a-blazing."

"So, what's the signal?" Inquired Xander. 

"I'm thinking lots and lots of screaming."

"Got it."

"Shall we?"

Xander, Hel, Faith, and the other Potentials guarded the door, while Buffy took a subset of the team inside. She lead Spike, Molly, Kennedy, Rona, and Chao-Ahn down the stairs, deeper into the  wine cellar.

"What is this place?" Asked Molly, warily surveying their dimly-lit surroundings.

"Looks like an old vineyard." Buffy replied.

"An evil vineyard, huh?" Remarked Kennedy.

"Like Falcon Crest." Spike added.

"Stay alert, you guys." Buffy intervened, before they could become distracted from the task at hand. "Bringers are here somewhere. Just need to find out where."

"Shouldn't be too hard." Observed Spike.

As if on cue, Bringers appeared from behind the wooden wine barrels and leapt out of the shadows. A struggle ensued, but the fight between Buffy's ensemble and Caleb's small army was fairly even.

Then, without warning, the Bringers withdrew into the dark once more.

The preacher, Caleb, stepped out into the light. He possessed a deceptively-attractive appearance, and his short brown hair was neatly arranged, without much need for fuss or styling.

"Well, now, you girls are just burning with self-righteousness, aren't you?" He began, his slick southern drawl pleasing to the ear. "Problem is, you think you're blazing like suns, when really you're burning like matchsticks in the face of darkness. You having fun? Now, I hope my boys haven't worn you out too much— I need you fit for when I purify you."

"Save the sermon, padre." Buffy interrupted, "I heard you have something of mine."

He chuckled. "Well, I do now. You liked my little message, did you? You know, I ruined a perfectly good knife on that girl. Got her soiled blood all over the place. I may have to get a new truck." He lamented. There was something unsettling in his otherwise immaculate façade as he spoke, a trace of mental instability lingering in his dead eyes.

Buffy looked taken aback by his casual attitude towards murder. It wasn't often that she encountered a human being as cold blooded as him.

"So, you're the Slayer." He continued, "the Slayer. The strongest, the fastest, the most aflame with that most precious invention of all mankind— the notion of goodness. The Slayer must indeed be powerful."

Before Buffy caught on to his intentions, he threw one powerful punch and send her sailing across the room.

"So, what else you got?" Caleb asked her, regarding his audience smugly.