"What is it going to take for you to stop hovering?"

"Once you stop moping, I'll stop hovering. Until then, I'll act as worried as I want," Angel answered Wesley, following his friend out from the kitchen.

Wesley stopped in front of the desk where Xander was typing. "Tell Angel to leave me alone."

"Angel, leave Wesley alone," Xander answered promptly, eyes glued to the screen. "Damn, you made me type that." He hit backspace then looked up. "What?"

"Angel is acting like any moment I'll fly into a million pieces. Distract him, please."

"Xander, look at him, he's upset. I'm just making sure he's all right."

The author checked his watch. "Angel, Lindsey's been gone for all of fourteen hours, of course he's upset. Looming over him isn't going to help."

"There, see?"

"You're a lot of help," the vampire growled.

"Do you need a time out? I'm just about ready to take you upstairs and lock you in your room."

"Please, do it. Get him out of here and don't let him back down until he glows," Wesley urged, pushing Angel towards Xander.

Xander rose with a wicked smiled spreading across his face, reaching for his lover's hand. "Are you sure you will be all right, Wes?"

In response, Wesley began pushing him with magic, his eyes glowing.

"Got it." They left.

Sighing in relief, Wesley sat behind the desk. It was technically Cordelia's shift for phone duties, but there had been an emergency at the shelter that took her away. Xander was always willing to take a shift, but if there was ever a time for him to be gone... Angel literally had only left Wesley's side for minutes at a time since Lindsey had left. He was upset and depressed, but not suicidal. Wesley understood the gravity of the situation they were all in and while he missed his lover terribly and it felt as if part of his soul were gone, he was strong enough to carry on.

"Should have watched that stupid "Titanic" movie and told him I was Rose, for God's sake. My heart *will* go on, dammit."

"Wesley, is there something you want to tell me?" a voice said suddenly.

Wesley looked up.

Faith was standing in the doorway, a bag at her feet, looking at him uncertainly.

"Faith?"

"Yeah. Instead of parole, I somehow got a full pardon. I'm a free woman with no restrictions. So, um, I don't really have a place to stay and I was wondering if maybe I could crash here for awhile."

"Of course. A full pardon?" Wesley rose and walked over to her, picking up her bag.

"Yeah. I'm not sure how that happened. Good conduct, saving lives, I'm not sure."

"I suspect the Powers have something to do with it." Wesley led her further into the hotel. "Do you want anything to eat? Or anything?"

Faith shrugged. "I guess. Or, I don't know. Man, this place is huge."

"Yes, and we're lucky to have it. When Angel first announced we were staying here, I thought he was crazy. Now it's like a blessing. There is plenty of room for us all and rooms to train, to plan, to research. You should see our library."

"She hid under the bed?" Oz said, walking down the stairs next to Graham.

"Yes, she did. And she was practically screaming when I tried to pull her out. That is one messed up girl."

"No kidding." Oz sighed. "And that's what I get to spend eternity with. Faith. Hey, congratulations."

"Oz, hey. Thanks, how did you know?"

"Oh, the Powers told me that you got pardoned. Pretty cool. This is Graham."

"Hey. Wes, how you holding up?"

"Fine, thank you."

Faith looked at Wesley. "Did something happen?"

"Lindsey was called to Jerusalem for God knows how long. Everyone seems to be expecting me to curl up and die or something."

"Not what I meant."

"Sorry, Graham. I am being childish."

Oz shook his head. "Why don't we go train? You're eyes are flashing."

"Well, I was going to help Faith, but..."

"Can I just find a room? I need a shower and stuff. You can go with Oz, Wes. I'm a big girl." Faith grinned.

"I'll show her what rooms are taken," Graham volunteered.

Faith took her bag back from Wesley and went with Graham. After a few moments, she decided to take a room on the top floor. The ex-solider offered to take her up, but she declined, took the key and went up the stairs.

The room across from the one she chose had a strange man standing in front of it. He was almost seven feet tall, blue, with huge wings, huge muscles, and a wicked looking sword.

"Hey. I'm Faith."

The man bowed slightly. "Greetings, Warrior. I am a guard for the Oracle."

"Oracle?"

"Eden, one of the Oracles of North America is currently residing in this room. I am here for her protection."

"Ah. Can I meet her?"

"If you wish."

Eyeing the guard, Faith knocked on the door. "Hello?"

After a long moment, the door opened a crack. Light violet eyes gazed at the Slayer. "Hey. My name is Faith. I'm staying in the room across from you."

"You're the other Slayer." She had a high, sweet voice.

"That's right. Are you afraid of something? I'm not going to hurt you."

The door opened a bit wider. "I don't like it here and I don't like it when there are a bunch of people around. And I thought you were my consort's lover; he tried to force me to leave earlier." She was visibly upset.

"Consort's lover?"

"Daniel. Oz, they call him."

Faith's eyes widened. "Wait, Oz is your consort? That's like a husband, right?"

"Yes and... well he could be my consort, but he is being foolish. He loves a mortal."

"That tall, muscular, handsome man I saw?"

The Oracle pouted. "Yes. He was trying to make me come out of my room."

"Why?"

"The vampire says that everyone needs to know how to fight or defend themselves. I don't want too. What if I get hurt?"

"Sweetie, you could get hurt even if you don't know how to fight. Hell, you might get hurt even worse." Faith glanced at the door to her room. "Listen, I need to wash up, but after I do, why don't we go down, get something to eat, then I can show you a few moves. Nothing big, just something so you can defend yourself." Wanting to make herself useful, the Slayer decided to try and help the team out with the Oracle.

"I can't. It's so big down there and it's day so there are a lot of people."

Faith cocked her head. "Are you agoraphobic?"

Eden blinked. "I don't know. I... No, there is nothing wrong with me."

"Yes, there is." Faith put her hands on Eden shoulders. "I'll protect you, I promise. But you have to trust me. No one here is going to hurt you. Only good guys live here."

Eden gazed up into Faith's eyes for a long moment, before lowering them submissively. "If you go with me, I'll go downstairs." There were tears in her voice, her eyes.

"We can start small. I'll come over, teach you some things, we'll stay in your room. But eventually, you're going to go out, got it?"

Eden nodded, looking calmer.

Faith impulsively kissed the girls forehead, then strode over to her room and went inside. One thing for sure, it didn't look like living here was going to be boring.

*****
Part 10: The First to Fall

(Two weeks later . . .)

He brings the dawn in with him, even today. Every day, every morning before the sunrise he is at the beach. Some days he runs, others he swims. Today, it was swimming. He ploughs through the waves, the salt water rushing past his strong body, caressing it, cradling it, engulfing it as he swims. He is like a fish, a dolphin, a shark; my dark beauty, strong, powerful, and unafraid.

He went out before we knew; well, before they knew. I knew right away, the moment it happened. I felt it; after all these years, after everything that has happened between us, I still felt it.

I felt her die.

She was my first love, one of the most precious things in the world. I loved her absolutely and completely, holding almost nothing back. Nothing, but myself. I was afraid to touch her, afraid to soil her purity, her beauty, with my uncleanliness. And when I did, when I weakened and made love to her, the part with which I loved her was driven from my body.

And I left. I left and tried to hide, but never could. Others found me, other worked their way past my defences and made me love: Doyle, Wesley, Xander.

Xander. My heart, my soul, my light. The man who shares my bed, shares my life, who crept in one day, almost unnoticed, and made himself part of me. He joined my family almost casually. For all the heartache, for all the insecurity, for all the uncertainty and fear, once the gates were open and our hearts were bared, there was no turning back.

With a kiss we were one.

He smells of salt and the sea air. Of morning and daylight and the dawn. He slips into our bed and wraps his warmth around me. He is sobbing, sobbing into my skin. He can't say it, can't voice what he knows. He doesn't have to tell me; I already know, my face wet with fallen tears. He can't even voice the question pounding through his brain: why her? Why was she the first to fall?

Of course, she was not the first. Dever, Lilith, and Xavier made sure there were others: humans, demons, Oracles. But our first personal loss, the first from the family.

And I wonder, as I hold him, crying into his hair already damp with the sea, when did she rejoin my family? Or, had she ever really left, even through the years of tension between us. A family is not a place; it is a feeling, a heart in which you will always find home, even when you think you're not wanted.

"The Watcher's Council has been destroyed," I hear someone whisper from the hall. It sounds like Eden; surprising, I thought nothing could make her emerge from her room. Apparently, the death of a Warrior was enough to shock even her.

The Council destroyed. Giles saved some books, some weapons, some magic, some Watcher's, and himself. Buffy is gone, killed before his eyes. Too fast for him to do anything, he had to watch his Slayer, his daughter, die.

My childe opens the door. He is my childe, not matter who gave him the blood. I taught him to hunt, taught him to enjoy his eternal life, taught him to enjoy killing. And, nights, alone in the darkness, I played with his all too human heart, stoking the fire of passion to keep it alive, trying to create a vampire who would love with his lost and demonized soul, teaching him how to adore and protect, love and nurture. And we made love until I disappeared from his life without a trace.

I can see he has been defeated. My beautiful, cherished child, destroyed by the death of his lover. Of our lover.

He isn't crying. His eyes are dead, the light, the fire, ripped from their depths. He just walks to the bed and gets in beside me. Xander doesn't protest. He even reaches out, extends his embrace to include my William.

Together, the three of us mourn. We cry because Buffy is gone, killed by Azazel and she is the first. She is what brought us together, gave us our missions, and sent us on our way to find ourselves.

Xander is my soul, Spike is my eternal life, and Buffy... Buffy was the dawn.

*****
Part 11: Second-Hand Battle

"The attack was well underway when we arrived," Giles said, his voice and face haunted. "Willow and I had been taking on of the last boxes away from the main building, but over half the Watchers were still there. Lilith had destroyed the building; it was nothing but burning rubble when we got there. Demons were crawling around all over the place - after it was over one of the Watcher's said that the spells they had placed to keep demons out failed all at once. Lilith simply walked into the hall with her minions, raised her hands and blew it up. I assume the warlock countered the protection spells."

"What about Buffy?" Wesley asked.

"She was fighting. She was winning. There was no demon there that was stronger than her, not even Lilith. She attempted to take Buffy on physically, but when it was obvious she was no match, she used her magic to get away. That's when the tide began to turn some; Buffy couldn't defend herself against the magic. It was as if Lilith had reached inside and was pulling her around."

"Lilith was so busy attacking Buffy, she didn't notice when a couple of the Watchers and I joined powers and attacked her. That got her off Buffy," said Willow. Her voice was dull and lifeless.

"Buffy stumbled away to gather herself. The minions were ignoring her by this time since Lilith had taken control. Xavier was off killing Watchers near me, but I turned for a moment to find Buffy. She had sat down when this man began crawling to her. He was beautiful, really, unearthly and heart-stoppingly beautiful. All I could do was stand there and look at him. His face had streaks of soot as if he had been in the building when it blew. He reached his hand out for her and, of course, she took it. He looked human. I thought he was human." Giles voice broke and he covered his eyes. "She pulled him to his feet and he kissed her, said something. She looked horrified and then... then..."

"He broke her neck," Willow finished for him. She began to cry, hugging Tara tightly.

"Why did he look so human?" Giles asked. "He's a demon. Even after she was dead, he looked the same, like it wasn't an act. Why?"

"Because he was an angel before he was a demon," a soft voice said from the door.

Everyone turned.

Eden was standing there, holding tightly to the doorframe, her knuckles white. Everyone could see she was trembling slightly.

Angel rose. "Come in, Eden, please." He sounded tired, infinitely weary, but he made his voice as gentle as possible. "What do you mean he was an angel?"

Eden took a few steps in. Faith, who had her arm around Giles, rose, walked over to the Oracle, and led her to the seat next to her. Eden held onto Faith's hand as if it were a lifeline.

"He used to be an angel, a messenger for The Powers That Be, but he allied himself with the Leviathan. When the Powers found out, they kicked him out and made him a demon. Except, you can't be made a demon, so he looks like an angel and has angel powers, but is called a demon."

"Where did you find this out?" the vampire asked.

"The Powers didn't tell me," she said quickly, looking at Oz.

The male Oracle shook his head. "This is the first I've heard about it."

"I read it in a book. Faith said that maybe I could help by researching, so I found a reference about Azazel, then found the book. I only found it last night. I'm sorry I didn't know in time to save the Warrior." Tears filled her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Eden," Oz said. "You did good. You found out information that should be useful in the future."

Eden looked up and met his eyes, looking tentatively pleased.

"An angel," Cordelia said. "You would think they'd tell us these things. Beauty is a hard thing to beat."

"Rupert, what did Azazel do after he killed her? Did anything happen?" Wesley asked gently.

Giles closed his eyes at the memory. "There was a kind of flash around her. He held his hand out and then there was a floating ball of light. It looked like the sunshine balls Willow conjured a few years ago: a small bubble with light trapped inside."

"Buffy's power, physically manifested. Damn," the sorcerer sighed. "We need to stop him. He's getting more and more power. How many Oracles are dead now?"

"Three more pairs: Europe, Africa, and Australia. All that's left are South America, Eden and me, and the two floaters."

"No Antarctica?" Xander mumbled, his head lying on the table.

"There's no people in Antarctica," Eden answered.

"Xavier killed your father, Wesley. He seemed to single him out, practically. Did you, I don't know, feel his death?" Giles asked.

Wesley shook his head slowly. "No, not at all. How do you mean singled him out?"

"Your father was with Willow and me. When we returned, we split up to help. I saw Xavier stop fighting the man he was with and charge over to your father before he'd killed the last man. It was... a rather slow death."

Wesley had paled, but said nothing.

"Why would he kill him if it didn't hurt Wesley?" Graham wondered.

"That's the question of the hour," replied Wesley.

"I brought some of his belongings to you. He never changed his will so you inherited it all; congratulations, you are a rich man." Giles's voice was suitably ironic.

A silence fell around the table. Everyone was lost in their own thoughts and shared grief. Finally, Gunn said, "So, what do we do now?"

Angel sighed. "Continue to train and track and hope no one else dies."

"And... we pray," added Eden.

Everyone looked at her. "Faith strengthens The Powers That Be."

Xander rose abruptly. "And we pray." He left the room, ending the meeting.

*****
Part 12: One Down

Wesley held the last note of his song, enjoying the way it floated on the sea breeze around Faith, Eden, and himself. When it had faded away at last, he lowered the crystal flute and smiled at his companions.

Faith and Eden clapped.

"That was awesome, Wes. Who knew you had talent?" Faith said.

"Oh thank you for that vote of confidence."

"Where did you get that, Wesley? I've never seen a crystal flute before," Eden asked softly.

"Lindsey found it and sent it to me. I'm scared to ask how much it cost. He tends to get extravagant when he buys me gifts. He forgets, sometimes that he's a not-for-profit lawyer and no longer makes what he did working for Wolfram and Hart."

"He's a Prophet," the Oracle said.

Faith squeezed her leg. "Yeah, but in his normal life, he's a lawyer."

Eden frowned, obviously worried that she had said the wrong thing. "I'm still not used to the fact that everyone has normal lives outside their duties. I'm sorry."

"I'm not angry," Wesley assured her.

As the weeks crept by Faith had managed to coax Eden out of her hole. At first, it was only for short trips onto the roof or down to the kitchen, but as she got more used to her situation, Eden began to leave the hotel, but only in the company of Faith, her guard, one other person; more often than not, that person was Wesley. Angel still frightened her, Graham could teach her self defense, but she was unsure about him; Oz could only take her in small amounts and Spike and Xander rarely left the safety of Angel's room. Giles, Tara, and Willow had returned to Sunnydale after Buffy's death, although Tara returned every few weeks to train with Oz.

Three months had past since the Slayer's death. The demonic trio had stayed away from L.A. and the reports of mass deaths from around the world had subsided. Wesley had theorized that it was taking awhile to safely store all the power from the Watcher's demise. However, their contacts in the demon world reported that the demons who chafed the most under human domination: chaos demons, vampires, and other sorts that would rather kill than interbreed, were disappearing quietly all over the world.

Azazel's army.

The contacts were sending more and more half-breeds and so called 'humanized' demons their way. Harry, Doyle's ex-wife, was invaluable in not only helping the team find such demons, but also acting as an interpreter between the species. Their band of fighters was slowly growing.

"Wes, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Faith."

"What's up with your shirt? It doesn't seem like the type of thing you'd buy," Faith asked, eyeing the sorcerer's worn black tee shirt. It read "Sith Lords Kick Ass" on it and was obviously old, very threadbare with a few holes.

Wesley smoothed the tee he was wearing under his dark red button up shirt. "It's from a web site Lindsey is addicted to. It's a parody site that plays around with the "Phantom Menace" characters. Lindsey was under-impressed with the movie and claims the web site the only thing that makes it bearable." Wesley toyed with the hem of the shirt, eyes far away. "It's his Saturday morning shirt, perfect for wearing with sweats, eating breakfast in bed, and watching cartoons. He accidentally left it behind."

Faith reached out and covered his hand with hers. "You miss him."

"Yes. He's... he's doing well. Hasn't been killed, which is encouraging. He said last night when he called that people are beginning to really listen. He's doing good, important work." Wesley took a deep breath and looked up at his companion. "Am I selfish to wish he were here with me?"

"No, no your not."

Wesley seized her hand then lifted his flute to his lips again. The song that came out was wistful and romantic. His eyes closed as he played, the notes building on each other, lovely and sad, dancing around their group. The Slayer vaguely recognized the tune as something that came from a movie.

Eden smiled and leaned over. "Star Wars," she whispered.

The sorcerer opened his eyes, a smile evident in them and winked at her. Then they closed and he switched tunes to something equally dreamy and full of longing, playing until, quite suddenly, pain seized his body and he began gasping for air.

"Wes?"

Wesley lowered the flute, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, drawing energy into himself. When he opened them, his eyes were glowing and he could feel his power flowing smoothly in and around him.

He rose. "A demon is here. Get Eden-" He was thrown off his feet as the fabric of reality was torn open.

A large, fat, puss-dripping demon stepped out. He blinked his yellow eyes, looked around, then stepped away from the opening. Wesley could feel it giving off some sort of strange energy, unlike anything he'd felt from any demon.

"Christ, that thing stinks," Faith remarked, grimacing. She had fallen into a defensive stance, arms out, ready to defend herself.

The demon looked at her. "Slayer," he said, his voice full and deep.

Another demon stepped out from the tear. It was about Faith's size, compact and muscular. Wesley recognized it as the same type of demon Xavier had sent after him years before.

Faith stepped forward to take the demon on when another one leapt out at her. They fell to the ground, the Slayer attempting to flip it off her. The demon hit her in the throat and she curled up, gasping for breath.

The first demon went for Eden, but was intercepted by the Oracle's guard. The guard brought its sword up, slicing the demon in half.

"Look out!" Wesley cried, but it was too late.

Anther demon emerged from the portal and grabbed the guard's head, twisting it sharply. The guard fell to its knees, dead.

"No!" screamed Eden.

Three more demons stepped out of the tear. Wesley threw himself at one, but was caught easily and tossed as if he weighed nothing. He hit the sand hard, the breath knocked out of him.

"Wesley, can you close that hole?" Faith called. She was on her feet. The demon came at her again. She did a roundhouse kick, catching it in its face. As it stumbled, she pulled a knife from her boot and slammed into the side of the demon's head. Using it's falling body, the Slayer leapfrogged over to Eden, flying over the other two demons and knocking the Oracle to the ground.

Faith leapt up to her feet and turned, alternately punching and kicking each demon.

Wesley turned to the tear and waved his hand. It closed, catching one demon that was attempting to come through. It gave a horrified scream, and then half of its body fell onto the sand.

Eden screamed again as one of the demons got by Faith and latched onto her. Wesley spun, his hands out. Flames leapt from his fingertips, setting the demon of fire. It began screaming and jerking, terrifying the Oracle. Wesley was about to say something, when he was hit from behind.

The sorcerer stumbled but didn't fall. He turned to see the puss demon gazing at him, blinking stupidly.

"Are you Dever?" Wesley asked.

A boil on the demons shoulder burst open. A foul smelling liquid oozed out. "Yup."

"Damn." Wesley said. His mere presence could make half the city fall ill. That must be the energy Wesley had been sensing; unlike most demons, Dever rarely attacked with physical force. He was a passive killer, spreading pestilence and plague in his wake, according to the research.

Wesley threw a wave of power at Dever. The demon fell, writhing on the sand attempting to stand.

"Faith!" Eden cried.

Wesley turned. The Oracle's dress was on fire. The demon was at her feet, still bleeding, blood oozing out of him.

"Roll!" called Faith, still fighting.

Eden shook her head in confusion, terror overriding her senses. Wesley *lifted* her with his power and threw her into the ocean, dousing the flame and getting her away from the demons. "Distract him!" Wesley heard Dever yell.

One of the demons fighting Faith used her body as a launching pad and landed on Wesley. The sorcerer fell to the ground, the demon on top. He flipped it over his head and rose to his knees, smashing his opponent's nose into its face. Blue blood spurted out onto Wesley's face and clothing.

"Fuck. Lindsey is going to kill me," he sighed.

The demon rose and attempted to grab his throat. Wesley blocked him and then hit him with a wave of energy. It fell back, but struggled up again. The sorcerer *reached* inside the demon and pulled. Its heart was yanked out of its chest, blood gushing out. A bright light exploded out with the heart hitting Wesley in the chest. He fell over, gasping for air.

"No!" he heard Eden cry.

"Stop it!" Dever yelled back.

Still struggling to breath, Wesley sat up. Eden, wet from head to toe, her dress clinging to her, was throwing wet sand and the occasional rock at the pestilence demon. It was approaching her still, wincing every time it was hit.

Faith killed the last demon and ran after Dever.

"Don't touch him, Faith!" Wesley shouted. Anyone who touched a pestilence demon was sentenced to a slow, agonizing death.

She didn't seem to hear him and threw herself at the demon.

Wesley quickly *knocked* her out of the way, then directed everything at Dever. The demon burst into flames and turned, arms out, fighting Wesley. The sorcerer stumbled, but pushed back; he was the stronger of the two.

Smiling grimly, he threw more power at Dever. It wrapped around him like ropes, squeezing.

"Stop!" Dever begged, his eyes bulging.

Wesley concentrated the power further. He could feel Dever's life force giving. He squeezed harder until, quite suddenly, Dever's head popped off.

There was a rush of power around the group. Eden fell back, her head submerging under a wave, and Faith was knocked off her feet. Wesley managed to stay upright, bracing himself as if facing a strong wind. Without thinking, he held out his hand and *pulled* with something inside him.

The power immediately concentrated in a glowing orb hanging over the ocean. They all stared at it for a moment, before Wesley felt a tug. The orb flew at him and slammed into his chest, his body flying through the air. He landed hard, the breath forced from his lungs. The world swirled around him for a moment before everything went black.

*****

"Wes? Wesley!"

Wesley abruptly came to as salt water was poured onto his face. He coughed and sat up. "What happened?"

"You passed out. Something hit you and you fainted," Faith answered.

The sorcerer shook his head and immediately regretted it. He had a pounding headache. "So you decided to drown me?"

"It was either that or hit you till you woke up." The Slayer grinned.

He smiled back. "In that case, thank you." He wiped the water off his face and felt his chest. "My chest hurts."

"That thing hit you. What happened? What was it?"

"I think... I think that was his power. I think I managed to absorb his power somehow, when he died. Dever's and that of the other demon that I killed." Wesley looked up at Faith and Eden, wonder in his silver eyes. "I can collect power."

"What does that mean?"

"Isn't Azazel collecting power? And that's why he wants to kill me and Daniel?" Eden asked.

"Yes, that's exactly what I think he's doing, Eden. Maybe... if I can absorb other beings' power as well, perhaps I can be strong enough to beat him."

"Why didn't that ever happen before? I mean, why now?"

"I don't know." Wesley rubbed his chest again. He pulled something hanging around his neck from under his shirt and gazed at it. "This was in my father's belongings. I put it on... I don't even know why I did."

"Do you think that's what did it?"

Wesley gazed at the bauble. It was round and flat, in the shape of an eye. It was entirely made of silver except for a jewel in the exact centre of the piece. The jewel was a small, raised, diamond shape; it was clear, but when the light hit it, all the colors of the rainbow danced along the surface, like a soap bubble.

"It's made of the same things the orbs are, I think. It's not really a jewel," Wesley decided, running his finger over it. "There is power just in this little bit; I'm guessing it called the others' energies to me."

"Looks like you'll need to start patrolling more, get more power" Faith remarked.

"I suppose so." Wesley glanced over at the dead demons littering the sand. "But why now? Why attack today?"

"They were after her," said Faith, putting her arm around Eden.

The Oracle suddenly stiffened, her eyes going wide. "Daniel!"

Wesley rose swiftly. "Where is he?"

Eden's eyes were squeezed tight, attempting to find him. "Near, I think... I don't know. He's in trouble, Wesley!"

Faith began running back to the car. "He and Graham were going shopping. They're at the market!" she called.

Wesley and Eden ran after her after the sorcerer retrieved his flute. "Can you get us all there? With your power?"

Eden shook her head. "I can only transport me."

"Well, let's hope we get there in time."

* * *

"Oz, get back!" Graham shouted. He pushed Oz to the side, into a group of shoppers and turned to face the demons.

One lunged at him. He sidestepped it easily and did knife block, his hand coming sharply into it's neck. The demon's neck snapped and it fell, dead.

The solider ducked as two more leapt at him. One sailed over his head; the other dove into Graham's knife. He pulled it out, blood pouring from the fatal wound.

"Graham!"

He turned. Oz was struggling, in the grip of two demons. Graham lunged, but was tripped by a third. Graham tried to catch himself, but fell as the demon threw itself onto his back, pinning him to the floor.

Graham rolled, trying to throw it off. The demon attempted to break his neck, but Graham broke its grip by throwing his weight into the ground. It snarled and sunk its teeth into Graham's neck.

Someone screamed. Graham grunted and yanked his head away, but a large chunk of flesh was torn from his neck. He bashed the demon's face with the back of his head, breaking free.

Oz was covered in blue demon blood and some human red. A black haired man was standing in front of the Oracle protectively, switchblade out, circling one of the demons. From behind Graham, someone fired a gun.

He whirled, ducking, but he wasn't being shot at. Another strange man with brown eyes had fired at the demon. It fell, dead.

"Is that all?" the stranger asked Graham.

The ex-solider looked around. "Up there."

The man looked up and shot the two demons crawling out of the dimensional rip. Another two crawled out.

"Fuck, man, they keep coming."

"Oz, can you get out of here?"

"He's been hurt," the black haired man replied. He was still in a defence position in front of the Oracle, the demon dead at his feet. Oz, bleeding heavily from a wound in his side, was leaning half unconscious against a woman. She was attempting to lay him down, applying pressure to the wound, her hands already red.

"Evacuate the store; everyone get out."

"I don't think it's safe to move him," she said. She was pale under her light hair, but focused on the task at hand.

One of the demons launched itself at the man with the gun. He shot it, but the second landed on him and snapped his neck.

Graham threw himself at the demon, grabbed the gun, and blew its head off. Another one landed on his back.

"Just get him out of here!" he shouted, fighting with the demon.

"What about you?" the black haired man asked.

Graham couldn't answer.

"Wes, over here!" Faith pulled the demon off him and threw it into the shelf. It landed, cereal boxes flying over the floor. She ran after it, kicked its head, then leaned down and held it. "Do you want this one?"

"Hold on." Wesley appeared and waved his arm. The tear closed. "All right, move."

Faith stepped aside. The sorcerer held out his arm, his hand curved like he was holding onto something. Graham could see he was already covered in demon blood. His arm was tense, like he was pulling something.

The demon's chest suddenly exploded, blood splashing the onlookers. There was a rush of light and wind before it concentrated into a ball that slammed into Wesley, knocking him off his feet. His head hit the tiles with a sharp crack, then everything was silent.

"Christ, what the fuck was that?" shouted the black haired man, wiping vicious blood out of his eyes.

Graham sat up. "Demons and... I don't know. Wes?"

The sorcerer sat up. "I'm fine. How's Oz?" He crawled over to the woman tending to Oz.

She looked up. "I'm not sure. He's lost a lot of blood. Has anyone called 911?"

"I think the manager did," someone called back.

Eden, soaking wet, entered the aisle and ran over to the group. "Daniel!" She fell beside him and reached out, stroking his face gently.

Graham walked over and took his lover's hand. "Oz?"

The Oracle opened his eyes. He looked tired and in pain, but he smiled. "Hey. We win?" "Yeah, thanks to Wesley."

"Ah. Thanks Wes."

"Hold on, Oz," was the sorcerer's answer.

"Yeah, I will." Oz smiled at Eden briefly, then closed his eyes, sighing.

*****
Part 13: Azazel Plans

"Did I free the two stupidest demons ever or something? I specifically told him not to enter the dimension. I told him to open the portal, let the assassins through, let them kill the girl, then leave. How hard is that? How fucking hard is that?"

Lilith shook her head. "He was hungry, master. He hasn't been able to feed for quite a few months. Sending him to Los Angeles with all those thousands of people left alive was too tempting."

Azazel paused and gazed at her. "Right, it was. Bad planning on my part, wasn't it? Sending a stupid demon to a big feeding ground when the target was with the sorcerer. What was I thinking?" His voice was mild and calm. He lit a cigarette and took a deep breath.

"You didn't . . .kill him, did you? Send him off on purpose?" Lilith rose to her feet, walking over to him.

"Would I actually kill a member of my own team?"

"You might."

He looked at her, one eyebrow raised, eyes twinkling. "Well, isn't two better than three? And won't three be better than four? Four is such a . . .a drab number, never liked it much. Three, though. . .a trinity. There is something very comforting about the number three. And now, after we release the Leviathan, there will be three. Works out."

"You really are amazing. You sent one of your partners to his death. He was ., . .harmless. He was powerful. He . . ."

"He was planning to fuck you the moment he got enough power to subdue you."

"He deserved to die. What the hell is it with you men?"

"Lilith, my love, you are a demon who's main claim to fame is seduction. Face it, you're not known for your intellectual powers."

"I'm not stupid."

Azazel reached out and traced her face lovingly. "I know, you're not. However, your not brilliant, either."

Her eyes widened. "You were thinking about killing me."

"Yes, but then I realized you were more valuable than Dever. Congratulations. Actually, it was a test, he simply failed. Had he shown the slightest bit of will power and stayed where I told him, he would be alive and we'd still be a trinity thing. Then. . .well, then maybe I would have respected him more. But now . . ." He turned away, shaking his head, and took a long drag. "So, both Oracles are still alive, the sorcerer is even more powerful than he was before, and I still have no way to see into their stupid hotel. I may have fucked up just a tad. Lilith, bring me the vampire. I want to talk to him."

"Which one?"

Azazel stared at her a moment. "See, that's why I said your smart, but not brilliant. What vampire," he said, his voice dripping with scorn. "What fucking vampire? Let's think about it? Do we want the vampire who is the Warrior for the Powers that Be, who has a soul, and would tear his own heart out before he allowed anything to happen to his family or do we want the soulless beast that's been torn to shreds because the Slayer he was fucking got killed?"

"The soulless beast?"

"Very good. Get him."

Lilith turned to go. "Wait. If I set foot in the city, the sorcerer will know."

"Then kill someone before you bring the vampire to us so they think you're up to something. Recruit a few demons for my army while your there; we haven't gotten any from L.A. in awhile and you know how I love diversity in the ranks. Stay long enough to put the sorcerer in a coma for all I care, but don't, and I mean this: Do. Not. Try. To. Fight. Him. Don't go anywhere near him. Take this," Azazel tossed a small object that looked like a compact, "watch for the vampire to leave the building on that. When he does, see where he goes on that window and then go get him, bring him here. Tell him I want to talk to him."

"Yes master." She left.

Azazel sighed and took another puff. Glancing at Xavier, he said, "Why are they all so difficult?"

"They haven't your brilliance, master."

"You do. A mere human, too. Huh. Now, we need to kill those Oracles. How many do we have left?"

"North America and the floaters."

Azazel closed his eyes. "Go after the floaters; North America is going to be hard. I didn't count on the little one's lover to be so strong."

"He had help."

"Yes, it was a whole fucking community effort, wasn't it? The Prophet's message is spreading."

"He's still in Jerusalem."

"Hence the spreading part. I've heard people are actually starting to open their eyes and see the demons around. And, they're doing something about it. All because one pretty little boy opened his mouth and told everyone to be nice to each other because otherwise a big, bad demon is going to kill them all and take over the world. And they fucking believed him, that's the incredible part." He finished off his cigarette and ground it out. " Only three months; he must be pretty damn good."

"He does talk." Xavier's voice was flat and dry.

"Yes, I hear he uses that mouth extremely well. Wesley seems to think so." The demon opened his eyes to look at his servant.

Xavier was stiff and flushed. "Master, I would appreciate it if you refrained from being crude. I find it distasteful."

"Right." Azazel grinned. "Anyway, get the floaters, I'll come up with a plan to kill North America." He turned and waved his hand at the dimensional window. The Prophet appeared speaking in front of a crowd by some holy place or another. Azazel gazed at him speculatively. "It may be time to step up the attack."

*****