Angels and Demons: C
AN: Ah, another slow day. Revel in it. Hope you guys enjoy.
*********** Trick or Treat: Chapter Thirty-Three Part C **********
“So, what do you think,” Xander drawled, “machete or chainsaw?”
Riley was looking grimly efficient, while Graham simply looked
unhappy. Xander was cool with that. Cold-blooded murder usually
wasn’t how he got his kicks either, but then his girls usually were
hunted down in cold blood in their own home. It made him a lot
more open to new pastimes.
Robert Kinsey watched them all with the bored detachment of a man
who hadn’t yet figured out that his days were numbered to about an
hour. Depending on how long the torture took.
“Can I help you… gentlemen?” the Senator asked with delicately
Xander’s eye narrowed as he studied the man who had sent Ashley
to her grave. He could see how he’d been elected. Xander had met
enough men like him- people who could charm snakes if they tried,
even if they wore scales under their flesh too- to know how someone
who was utterly evil could be given a position of power.
Mayor Wilkins was one of those, although he HAD been a giant snake
at the end. Plus, you know, he had a sense of humor when it came
to murder and mayhem. Xander was glad they’d blown him up, really,
but as a dedicated member of the Scooby Gang, he had to appreciate
humor, even when it was sick, sadistic, and made reference to
miniature golf. The bastard.
Xander shrugged his semi-automatic rifle off his shoulder so that
it rested on the ground and was propped up by his thigh. Senator
Kinsey’s cold eyes narrowed as Xander reached into his black vest
and pulled out a large steak knife and began to twirl it, the blade
dancing from finger to finger with a precision that had been gained
from over a decade of playing slice and dice instead of hide and
seek in his spare time.
Who knew saving the world from the forces of darkness was going to
come in handy when killing a US Senator?
“No, you see, our visit involves you, but there’s nothing you’re
going to be able to do to help us out.”
“He could not scream,” Riley pointed out with a dry turn of wit.
Xander flashed him a wild grin as the older man smiled wearily
back. Living in death defying situations really DID mess with
your sense of humor. The Farm Boy, for instance, had apparently
really gained a nice turn of dark humor while hunting nasties
across jungles and swamps and whatnot.
“Ah, yes, but a gag would fix that nicely. Or a lack of a
Lovely, the good Senator was starting to loose some of his
bluster. He was even starting to look a bit edgy. Nervous
“Who are you people? What are you doing here?”
Xander raised a dark brow and stepped forward after tossing his
gun to Garahm, slowly, deliberately, with enough calculated
intimidation that Kinsey, though he held his ground, was almost
poised to flee. He pointed the knife at Kinsey when he answered,
the tip resting against the sagging flesh of one cheek.
“Who we are is unimportant. What we’re doing here is obvious.”
Xander pressed the knife in hard enough that a drop of blood welled
and rolled down Kinsey cheek like a tear. The younger man felt a
well of satisfaction as knowledge of his impending mortality filled
the Senator’s eyes.
“The question you really should be asking is, WHY are we here.”
When the older man said nothing, Xander drove the knife in a little
further. “Go on,” he prompted, “ask.”
“Why are you here?!”
Ah, the panicked and desperate part of the evening had begun.
Xander removed the knife abruptly and Kinsey, whose body had been
rigid with mounting terror, deflated like a balloon. “We,” he
began with cold authority, “are here due to an incident that
happened on your orders.”
The light of slow understanding dawned.
“Alexander Harris,” Kinsey hissed as his distant memories of the
Initiative debacle, and Xander’s subsequent service with the
Slayers, provided the name of his attacker.
“Give the Senator a cookie, he named his murderer.”
“Really, boy,” Robert Kinsey sneered, bluster temporarily hiding
his fear, “do you truly think that you can just stroll into my
bedroom and KILL me without any repercussions?”
The knife was back at him in a moment, though this time the length
of the blade was laid across his jugular as Xander loomed, dark and
furious. “Tell me this, do YOU truly think that you can attack MY
GIRLS and KILL one without any repercussions?”
Kinsey swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing perilously close to the
knife’s serrated edge. “And what do you think will happen to your
precious girls when the government learns who’s responsible?
They’ll hunt them down like dogs and put them to sleep, one by
Xander swallowed himself with that coldly pronounced statement.
He didn’t disagree, but he also didn’t remove the knife from
Kinsey’s neck. “There’s some things worth dying for,” he pressed
the blade closer suddenly, and blood sprouted like a red bloom on
the older man’s wrinkled neck, “and there’s some things worth
killing for. Ashley Ward is one of them.”
“I need to see Xander NOW!”
The Balance Demon caved suddenly, though not unexpectedly, before
Ashley’s demands. Getting beaten to a bloody pulp will do that to
you. Spike leaned over for a better view of the world below as the
clouds at their feet shifted, obscured and unobscured before
forming an image of the inside of a nearly dark house that Bruce
conjured with a reluctant show of power.
Ahsley cursed creatively as Spike whistled at the sight of Xander
with a really big knife and a lot of blood came into view. Looks
like the prat had picked up a few things over the years after all.
Made the William the Bloody aspect of his personality feel all
squishy and warm, like newly removed organs.
The pigeon though, was NOT amused. For such a fun bird, she had a
distinct lack of humor about things like dismemberment at times.
It was the only time he still missed Dru like an amputated limb.
Insanity was such a wonderful companion.
Ashley turned on the Balance Demon with a blazing inferno of
purpose behind her bunched fists and furious eyes. “You have
until the count of three to take us to him, or so help me…”
The girl didn’t complete her threat, but she didn’t have to.
Bruce had had centuries to develop a very active imagination and
all three of them knew that nothing he could imagine would reflect
the full horror of the reality that Ashley could inflict. Even as
a non-corporeal being, she was terrifyingly wonderful. A real
Spike liked that in an acquaintance.
Bruce’s squeal of fear predated the rush of magic that broke the
bonds of travel the Pricks-that-Are had imposed on he and the
pigeon. The Balance Demon’s magic swept them up, and with a surge,
carried them onward.
Spike blinked once, twice, and stared at Xander and company who
were all staring slack jawed back at them. “Ashley?” the one-eyed
man croaked with hoarse hope mingled with despair.
“Three,” she whispered.