Revenant Read online

  “Bonus points, overachiever. So Jia Li is afraid of visiting this ancestor’s grave exactly why?”

  “She didn’t say, but I guess it’s because she’s afraid that he could turn out to be a hungry ghost. None of the family has ever been here before. They moved here just before Christmas.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” Willow said. “Her brother, Lok?”

  “I know Lok Rong.”

  The disgusted tone in Buffy’s voice told Willow that her friend really had met Lok. He kind of left that impression on nearly everybody—especially girls. “Well, Lok was getting into some trouble over there and Jia Li’s dad got the opportunity to set up business here. So they moved.”

  “That’s cool. So what kind of business?”

  “A restaurant. The Topaz Dragon.”

  “I’ve heard of it. Haven’t been there.”

  Willow stepped over a pothole. “Oh, you should go there sometime. They’ve got really great food.”

  “I will.”

  Angel cleared his throat, which was kind of tricky, Willow thought, because as a vampire he didn’t need to breathe, so probably throat clearing wasn’t a thing he did very often.

  “Maybe we could stick to the agenda here just a little longer,” Angel suggested. “How did the ancestor die?”

  “Don’t know. Didn’t ask. That seemed kind of personal. Just picked up on the fear factor I was getting from Jia Li and did a little snooping. I thought since you guys were going to be on patrol tonight anyway that it would be no big deal to swing by here, make sure everything was okay.” Willow continued making her way along the fence, conscious of the fact that as carefully as she went, she was the only one making noise. Buffy and Angel moved as silently as shadows. “She’s my friend.”

  “I’m always there for a friend, Will,” Buffy said. “Even a friend of a friend. You know that.”

  Yeah, but I also know you were looking for some alone-time with Angel, Willow thought. She felt bad about interrupting that because her friends already had enough hardships in their lives without her asking them along on what might ultimately be a snipe hunt.

  Since Angel’s return to living—as living as living could be for a vampire cursed with having his soul returned along with the memory of all the terrible things he’d done while he’d been without it—and to Sunnydale, his relationship with Buffy had been tense at best. They loved each other without question, but they had to constantly be aware of what that love would do to them if they allowed it to take over their lives again.

  “Did you tell Oz you were coming out here?” Buffy asked.

  Oz and Dingoes Ate My Baby were playing at the Bronze tonight. “Yeah. If he’d been able to get free, he said he’d have come with me. He didn’t want me to go by myself. I told him you guys were going with me and he chilled. He figured as long as I was with you, I’d be fine.”

  “Maybe not.” A shadowy figure stepped from the honeysuckle where it had been hiding. He was over six feet tall, dressed in a mud-stained Pacific Gas & Electric uniform. His hard hat sat on his head at a rakish angle, but the predatory features beneath it were pure vampire.

  Three other men, also dressed in torn and ragged PG&E uniforms, fell in behind the first. They grinned, and a flashlight wielded by one of the distant grave cleaners caught them full across the mouth for just an instant, illuminating the massive fangs.

  Willow stopped abruptly only a few feet away, heart pounding in her chest. No matter how many times you faced vampires, there was no way to really get used to it. “Buffy, do you remember the power company workers that got trapped in the mudslide a few weeks ago and have been missing ever since?” She pointed. “I think we found them.”

  “No way, girl,” the lead vampire said. “We found you first. I told my buddies that this old cemetery would be jumping tonight with it being Ching Ming Day and all.” High ridges formed along his cheekbones and forehead, and around his cruelly curved mouth. His eyes burned with catlike intensity. “Figured we’d dig up something to snack on.”

  “That’s too bad,” Buffy said, stepping up beside Willow with Mr. Pointy hidden at her side. “The kitchen is closed.”

  Chapter 2

  BUFFY TOOK ANOTHER STEP, THIS ONE DIRECTLY IN FRONT of Willow. The move put Buffy more or less within striking distance of the lead vampire. In the distance she could hear families singing, their voices raised enough that the conversation with the vampire went unnoticed. The patch over the lead vampire’s breast pocket read MORT. He glided to his right, stepping away from the fence, his hands held before him. His vampiric speed and strength lent him grace he didn’t have when he’d been alive. Nothing human moved that well.

  Buffy kept pace with him easily, showing him her open left hand and forearm raised to block. Her Slayer senses flared out, reading her opponents and the terrain she’d been given to fight on. At the moment, the confrontation remained out of sight of the families cleaning the graves of their ancestors.

  Two of the vampires behind Mort carried fire axes, blades on one side with cruelly curved hooks on the other. The last of the four wielded a sledgehammer.

  “Got a thing for one-liners, do you?” Mort asked.

  Buffy shook her head. “Nope. No cool points. Strictly B-movie status. A time-killer till you start to make the biggest mistake you’ve made since crawling back out of the grave.” She sensed Angel moving, knowing he was hustling Willow out of the way. The Slayer could feel him covering her back.

  “Uh, Buffy,” Willow called.

  “Busy, Will,” Buffy replied, watching the body language of the four vampires in front of her.

  “Just wanted to remind you—” Willow started.

  A gust of wind that pushed against the chill ocean breeze, too slight to be noticed by human senses, washed over Buffy, warning her that a large body flew toward her from the fence. She glanced up, already shifting her weight to the left, away from the approaching body.

  The vampire sailed at the Slayer from the top of the cemetery fence like a missile. Behind the female vampire’s outstretched hands tipped with sharp nails, her face was a mask of bloodlust. She wore a PG&E uniform as well. In life she’d been maybe thirty years old, maybe somebody’s mom. But in death she was a monster bent on slaking her inhuman thirst.

  “—that there were six PG&E employees that were lost in that mudslide,” Willow finished.

  Buffy swung her right foot back, bringing her body around and squaring up with the vampire hurtling toward her. She knew she couldn’t hope to stand her ground against the female vampire, but she didn’t want to go down and get her arms trapped on impact.

  The female vampire—THERESA, read the patch— snarled angrily as Buffy ducked under her hands. Unable to completely escape her attacker or bring Mr. Pointy into play quickly enough, the Slayer gripped the female vampire’s throat with her free hand. Buffy tightened her grip on her opponent’s throat and yanked, dropping to her knees as the female vampire crashed into her.

  The vampire’s momentum bowled them both over and knocked them to the ground. However, with Buffy holding onto her, the vampire landed on her head with a bonejarring thump that would have killed a normal person.

  That’s gotta hurt, Buffy thought, rolling from the impact and struggling to stay on top as they slid through the grass. She sensed Mort already in motion, closing in on her from the back. Then that sensation was gone, and Buffy knew Angel had waded into the fight.

  The female vampire hissed and spat and snarled, thoroughly put out at the turn of events. The singing from the families was loud enough to cover any sounds of the struggle, but it was pretty bizarre fighting a vampire in a cemetery to a soundtrack that Buffy didn’t recognize.

  Buffy rolled and twisted, avoiding the snapping fangs and the gouging nails. They came to a sudden stop against a cross-shaped tombstone.

  Hand still gripping the female vampire’s throat, legs scissored around the creature’s waist to pin her, the Slayer avoided the hands that r
eached for her and brought Mr. Pointy down hard. The wooden stake cracked the vampire’s sternum and plunged through the dead, vampiric heart.

  “No!” the vampire screamed in pain and disbelief as she gazed down at the stake.

  “See ya,” Buffy quipped. “Wouldn’t want to be ya.”

  The vampire turned to dust.

  Buffy caught a shadow rushing toward her from behind out of the corner of her eye. She moved, throwing herself into a short roll to the left that brought her to her feet. Unfortunately, she dropped Mr. Pointy along the way.

  One of the vampires with the fire axes brought his weapon down where she’d been only a heartbeat before. The keen ax blade split the hard ground of the old grave with a meaty smack.

  While the vampire was trying to free his weapon from the ground, the Slayer seized his shirt and ran him headfirst into the cross-shaped tombstone. The vampire’s dead flesh cooked and sizzled, and he snarled pain-filled curses as smoke curled up around his head.

  Buffy glanced over her shoulder and saw that Angel had engaged Mort and the other two vampires that had confronted them. The remaining vampire was after Willow, who was running for all she was worth.

  “Bitch!” the vampire snarled, lashing out and catching Buffy on the jaw with the ax handle.

  Pain exploded inside Buffy’s skull as she fell back. For a moment she thought her jaw was broken. Black spots swirled in her vision, interrupted by the gleam of moonlight on the vampire’s ax as he swung it at her head.

  Buffy turned her head, narrowly avoiding the sharp edge, feeling the impact thrum through the ground. The vampire tore the ax free and raised it. Buffy kicked him in the crotch, driving him back.

  As she rolled to her feet, Buffy remembered how close the ax had come to her head. She ran a hand through her hair. Not the hair! It was one thing to show up at school with the occasional color-clashing bruise or looking like she hadn’t slept in days, but having her hair whacked off by an ax-slinging vampire would just be too much. Thankfully, it was still in place. Aveda could only fix so much.

  The vampire came at her again, mouth open and hungry, the ax lifted high above his head.

  Bouncing lightly on her toes, getting her balance, Buffy sprinted toward the vampire, totally locked into Slayer mode. Nothing else existed for the moment but the kill. She put one foot against the vampire’s chest before he could bring the ax down, then kicked him in the face with her other foot. He brought the ax down even as his head snapped back.

  Still in motion, Buffy took her foot from his chest and kicked the ax handle as the weapon came down. The ax handle splintered, leaving the vampire holding only a few inches of wood. She brought her hands together on both sides of the ax head, stopping it less than a foot in front of her face. She still managed to pull her knees in and, using the momentum she’d built by running up the vampire’s body, managed to flip and land on her feet facing her opponent.

  “You’re not human,” the vampire croaked in shocked surprise.

  “Surprise,” Buffy said. She reversed the piece of the fire ax she held, gripping the steel head in one hand and ramming the splintered end forward.

  The wooden shards pierced the vampire’s heart and he died a final death.

  Pulling the axe handle back toward her, Buffy spotted Angel forced up against the cemetery fence. She sprinted through the swirling dust that had been the vampire. She found Mr. Pointy along the way, scooping the stake from the ground without slowing.

  Angel swung an elbow in a hard, vicious arc that caught one of the vampires in the face with a sharp, bone-breaking crack. One of the vampires took advantage while Angel was off-balance and punched him in the throat. If Angel hadn’t been a vampire himself, the blow would have killed him. Another vampire and the vampire with the remaining fire ax grabbed Angel’s arms, pinning him for the vampire with the sledgehammer. The vampire raised the sledgehammer as Angel struggled to get free.

  Before she reached Angel’s side, Buffy saw the vampire chasing Willow suddenly catch her and drag her down, clapping a hand over her mouth to cut off any screams she might make.

  Who to save?

  That was a really big thing that a Watcher never trained a Slayer on. Not that the Watchers Council was exactly supervising the training Buffy was getting these days.

  “Angel!” Buffy cried. She broke her stride, going into a baseball pitcher stretch, bringing the handle far behind her head. She let her momentum carry her forward in a short crow-hop, targeting the vampire with the fire ax because his back was presented most clearly to her. She rocked forward on her left foot and brought her right hand straight over her shoulder, releasing the handle at eye level, and dragging her knuckles across her boot toe on the follow-through.

  The wood flipped through the air three times before burying between the fire ax-wielding vampire’s shoulder blades. The vampire turned to dust even as Buffy recovered her balance.

  “Go!” Angel said, dodging the sledgehammer and pulling the vampire holding his other hand off-balance.

  Buffy ran. Normally, Willow might have had a chance against the vampire, and maybe she still did. But Buffy was unwilling to take the chance. Will was pretty much defenseless without a stake or the chance to get to the one she carried in her bag. That bag now sat on the ground back at the spot where they’d first been attacked.

  By the time the Slayer reached Willow, Mort had straddled her, pinning her to the ground, holding her wrists together in one large hand above her head. The vampire pushed Willow’s head up with the other hand, his fingers still clapped over her mouth.

  Willow’s eyes widened when she saw Buffy.

  Tempering the anger that was unleashed inside her until it was as much a weapon as anything else in her arsenal, Buffy hooked an arm under Mort’s throat, turned and slammed her hip into him, and flipped him away.

  The vampire rolled, sprawled, then looked up at her with sheer hatred burning in his bestial gaze. “You’re going to regret that.”

  “No,” Buffy assured him, dropping into a loose stance, her hands curled into fists. “One shower and you’re not going to leave as much of an impression as a bad dream.”

  Mort shoved himself up and came at her. He was more deliberate this time, setting up in a martial arts stance. He bounced athletically on his toes, his vampirism making the motions totally fluid. “Big mistake, little girl. I was champion at my tae kwon do dojo for five years running.”

  “Tae kwon do?” Buffy asked. “I’ve seen it. It’s fun to watch.” She exploded off her feet, taking the fight to him, the memory of Willow lying helpless under him making her strong. She punched and counter-punched, driving blows against his defense, battering him back, occasionally getting a punch or a jab inside that snapped his head back or connected with his midsection.

  Buffy slowed her attack, setting him up, letting him become the aggressor. The confidence returned to him quickly. He punched and kicked at her, but she managed to stay just out of his reach. She had the rhythm now, even when he tried to escalate it. He was all about power and intimidation, skilled, but lacking in finesse.

  Mort stamp-kicked at her, setting her up to move to the side, which she did. He swung a spinning backfist blow that he intended to crush her temple with. Instead, Buffy let the vampire’s huge right fist skim by just over her head. She turned, corkscrewing her hips, elevating her left foot and bringing the heel down hard on the vampire’s right shoulder.

  Bone splintered and Buffy knew she’d broken the collarbone and maybe done some serious damage to the shoulder socket as well.

  Some of the confidence deserted Mort then, leaving him wilted. He tried to set himself, unable to use his right arm.

  Buffy spun again and kicked the vampire’s right knee from the side. The joint shattered, going to pieces in rapid-fire pops. The Slayer mercilessly advanced, thinking of how Willow must have felt in those few heartbeats at being helpless in the vampire’s grip, wondering how many others had felt that fear over the last few days.
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  “Buffy,” Willow called. She stood only a couple feet away, holding a cross-shaped arrangement of plastic white roses. “Wood.” She tossed the flowers over.

  Buffy caught the arrangement just as Mort lunged desperately at her. The Slayer held the flowers in one hand and captured the vampire’s injured arm by the wrist. She stepped forward and twisted it behind him, forcing him to the ground. In the next instant she brought the flower arrangement down. The wooden base penetrated the vampire’s back and pierced his heart.

  Mort opened his mouth to scream, but he turned to dust before he could cry out.

  Brushing herself off as she got to her feet, Buffy stared at the flower arrangement quivering in the ground. She hadn’t known she’d struck that hard. “Well,” she said, “there’s a sure indication that things have got to get better. Everything’s coming up roses.”

  “Here comes Angel,” Willow said.

  Buffy nodded. She’d already known that. Even though Angel moved without making a sound, her personal sense of him had let her know he was approaching.

  He looked only a little disheveled when he handed Mr. Pointy back to Buffy. “Well, that was fun.”

  “Told you I would share.” Buffy smiled. When he smiled back, the far-off lantern and flashlights reflecting in his eyes, she could feel her heart ker-thump! in her chest. No one had ever made her feel that way before. She put a hand on Mr. Pointy tucked safely in her waistband. It was reassuring. “Well, come on and let’s go find out if the Rong grave is.”

  The right grave was Rong, as it turned out.

  “You know Jia Li from school, right?” Willow asked.

  Buffy looked at the slender, petite Asian girl dressed in a black and red plaid skirt, red blouse and black jacket, and nodded. Jia Li was a junior, a grade level behind Buffy’s class. “I’ve seen her in the halls, but I’ve never really talked to her,” Buffy said.

  “That’s understandable,” Willow whispered. “She’s kind of shy. It’s one of the things I like about her. And she’s really good with computers.”