Chapter 11: Arrivals

 

It started as a small crack, just a fissure really, zigzagging its way a short distance along the ground. Only a slight parting of winter stressed grass signaled its arrival, barely out of the ordinary for an area prone to drying weather. There was little sound at first. Not that there would’ve been anyone to hear it if there had been. The park was deserted at this time of day, being too early in the morning even for joggers, or at least for joggers who weren’t foolish enough to chance the pre-dawn hours. Though close to sunrise, the shadows still might hide that reckless or desperate vampire willing to tempt the impending dawn for a meal.

 

Had someone been that foolish, he might’ve seen the harsh glow begin to pour from the now expanding crack in the ground and heard the beginnings of a rumbling deep beneath the earth as if signaling some waking giant who’d just rolled over and taken that first rough breath before lurching from its bed. He might’ve heard that rumbling grow into a disturbing roar of sound as the tear expanded violently, accompanied by a burst of unearthly light. That likely might’ve been the last thing the poor unfortunate experienced, because the ground exploded after that. Or more precisely, the underground exploded.

 

With a thunderous boom, the deep rent threw forth jagged rocks that thudded dully onto the once manicured surface, scarring and denting it, leaving it quaking. The rocks smoldered slightly, smelling of charred earth. Had someone somehow managed to escape the rocks, he likely would’ve been immobilized by the first sight of a clawed hand reaching through the now gaping hole and scrabbling on the ground for purchase before hauling its owner onto the now illuminated landscape. Red eyes would’ve matched the eerie red glow of the surroundings and bored into the bystander’s gaze, soon to be joined by another set of eyes and another. Roaring with an anger he’d never have heard before, the large, spiny demons would’ve zeroed in on him and torn him apart. As it was, there was no unfortunate soul for the demons to vent their wrath upon. They roared at the affront and at the approaching dawn.

 

From his chair in front of his statue, coffee cup in hand, Gnash watched the sight. He marveled at the intensity, the unmitigated rage. Such unrefined demons they were, with no control, but at the same time, so very useful as a distraction. He smiled as more joined their brothers and sisters on the smoldering ground, some turning even on each other as they found nothing else upon which to vent their rage. Gnash guessed they were mad as… well mad as hell and not going to take it anymore. But they’d have to. This breed was not able to move about in daylight, their skin blistering and their eyesight failing in the harsh rays. They’d be good and enraged by the time night fell again.

 

A last few stragglers joined the more than two dozen already on the surface before the hole closed up with yet another rumble before quieting. Gnash was tired again, almost exhausted actually. All at once, even his coffee cup seemed heavy. The spell to call them had taken most of the strength he’d managed to garner the night before. He’d need an extended rest, preferably in another dimension where time moved more quickly so he wouldn’t miss anything here. Likely though, he’d have to stay, because dimension hopping now would be risky. No matter. It had all been worth it. Looking upon the site reflected in the large eyes of his statue and hearing the howls of the demons he’d brought forth, Gnash could only think of one word to describe the sight: beautiful.

*********

 

Tara felt it building slowly at first: a nagging sensation that woke her from sleep in the early hours of the morning. It was actually Tapas who had woken her. Her demon seemed to be attuned to magic energy. He could often sense it even from a distance, and she supposed that made sense for a demon whose purpose was to feed off of magical energy. For him, sensing magic was likely as natural as her using her sense of sight, sound, or smell.

 

It was the second time in a little over a day that he’d sensed such strong magic brewing, and she hoped that the crescendo wasn’t as bad as that last time. Whatever it had been last time was dark, bad. Tapas, being a demon, didn’t seem to care so much that the magic was dark and evil. Any magic excited him, got his senses going. Tara though, was disturbed by the feelings the dark magic had stirred in her. Knowing where the magic had likely come from had only made the feeling worse. Presently the sensation was growing and Tara started to breathe more heavily. Gripping the comforter beneath her hands, she closed her eyes and tried to prepare. This was going to be bad, even worse than last time. This she could tell already. Tapas was humming, practically buzzing in anticipation, and his frustration at not being closer to the action left a physical imprint on her senses, making her shake with the discomfort. All she could do was brace herself and wait. Despite her efforts though, Tara wasn’t prepared for the feeling of the negative power that exploded into her senses as the magic reached its peak. She cried out as it tore through her, receiving vague sensations of where the energy had come from and instinctively knowing that most of it was not from this plane or dimension.

 

The aftermath left her panting and momentarily weakened. It also left her scared. Whatever this spell had done it was beyond the usual bad and well into extremely dangerous. This time she would have to warn someone. She couldn’t tell them everything: this she’d found out recently. Her merger with Tapas had come with certain instructions and restrictions built in, the first being her meeting with Gnash when she’d first merged, but more importantly, she was unable to tell anyone of his identity. She couldn’t even write it down. She only hoped it didn’t restrict her from warning others of the potential dangers he posed. Tara guessed that there was only one way to find out.

*********

Monday morning arrived for Dawn with a blast of her alarm clock. Her response was to smack the snooze button. On the second smack, she was starting to be a little more coherent. Okay who put the lame country station on, she thought. Monday is bad enough without having to listen to that. Oh, my girlfriend is cheating on me, how dire. Try dealing with a hell god trying to kill you, your mother dying, and your sister sacrificing herself to save you and the world, then you’ll really have some blues to sing about. She managed to drift off again just in time for the alarm to go off after the appointed nine minutes. Groaning, she silenced the strains of a twanging guitar, threw the covers off, and headed for her dresser to retrieve something to wear.

 

Thank goodness it was almost time for winter break. She wasn’t sure she could deal with both approaching evil and the horror that was Geometry at the same time. Banging open drawers, she grabbed underwear, socks, shirt, and slacks almost at random, uncharacteristically uncaring as to whether or not her outfit was acceptable by high school social standards. Selecting something functional, she threw them on the bed. She was almost out into the hall before she remembered that they had a house guest and that traveling back to her room in only a towel might lead to trauma-inducing embarrassment if Angel’s son happened to appear in the hallway. Relieved at avoiding the potential disaster, she dug into her closet, looking for a robe which she hoped would fit her well enough to cover everything that should be covered and yet somehow not look like something a grandma might wear, because in that case she’d almost rather chance the towel. After almost half her wardrobe ended up on her closet floor, she finally located something. She glanced at the clock. It had the nerve to actually point out that it was later while the lavender color of the robe was mocking her. Maybe she should just take her clothes with her and dress in the bathroom, even though that would mean she’d likely be sticky from the steam from the shower. No, take the stupid robe, she told herself.

 

Getting ready for school really shouldn’t be this complicated. She lived through demon attacks, vampires abducting her, and crazy hell-gods. Why was getting herself dressed driving her crazy? Dawn finally closed the bathroom door, somehow feeling a sense of victory. As she turned the water on and let the spray beat down on her head, she thought, Geesh am I lame. Big important key here, and yet I still end up a loser teenager that has to go to school. She finished her shower and dried off, stopping to look at herself in the mirror. Yup, there was a big zit on her chin. Maybe with any luck, the apocalypse would happen before the homeroom bell rang.

 

After brushing her hair and dressing, she hurried downstairs and into the kitchen, almost colliding with Conner in the doorway. Quick reflexes had allowed him to move to the side. “Sorry,” she said. “School.”

 

“My condolences,” he replied. “From what I’ve heard about high school, I’d rather be fighting demons.”

 

Dawn went over to the cabinets and pulled out a box of cereal. “Well, I’ve heard that you’re good at it. Fighting demons, I mean.” Conner shrugged a little: no go there. Darn and she was bad at this. How could she be expected to keep up the conversation? “Speaking of which, I didn’t expect you’d be up so early this morning. With all the demon slaying the night before last. You’ve got an excuse to sleep in.”

 

He shrugged again. “I got enough sleep yesterday. Besides I was hungry.”

 

No surprise there, Dawn mused. The boy could definitely eat. She now noticed the cold piece of pizza on a napkin on the kitchen bar with a few bites out of it. He picked it up again and started munching. Dawn almost rolled her eyes as she dug into the refrigerator for the milk. What was it with men and cold pizza? The cheese got all congealed and stuff. It was so easy just to pop it in the microwave. Well at least he wasn’t dunking it in a mug of blood. “Milk?” she asked him, since she had it out anyway. Conner nodded, so she poured him a glass.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Where is everyone?” Dawn finally asked. She realized that she didn’t hear anything upstairs, and Buffy should be getting ready to go to school with her by now. Momentarily abandoning her cereal, she poked her head up the stairway. “Buffy!” she yelled. “Buffy are you up there?” She giggled when she heard a muffled “crap” that indicated her sister had overslept, something that seemed to happen a lot when Angel and Spike were visiting. Good. Someone else can fret about getting ready for school. “What are you going to do today?” she asked Conner as she returned to the kitchen.

 

“That depends. It’ll likely involve killing something though,” he replied with a smirk.

 

“Yeah well, my day involves Geometry. Yours sounds better.”

 

They ate in slightly awkward quiet, listening to and sometimes commenting on the clomping footsteps and hurried movements from upstairs that indicated Buffy was getting ready. Dawn always wondered how her sister ever snuck up on vampires if she sounded like that in the morning.

 

Finally Buffy came rushing down the stairs, dressed in something suitably business-like and doing battle with her hair. “Hah!” she announced as she heard the knock on the door. “Didn’t think I’d make it, did ya?”

 

“Well, you might not’ve if I hadn’t woken you.”

 

Buffy pouted as she opened the door for Xander. “I was awake.” She moved to the side to let him into the living room.

 

“I come bearing breakfast of the disgusting variety,” Xander said with amusement as he held out a bag with a heavily rolled edge.

 

“There’s fresh blood in the fridge!” Buffy called up the stairs as she took the package from Xander. “Thanks,” she told him. “All the slayage and minor disasters recently didn’t leave me much time to go shopping.”

 

“Evil doesn’t take winter holiday,” he commiserated.

 

Buffy rushed to the kitchen to put the blood in the refrigerator, calling over her shoulder “Do you have your book bag, Dawn?”

 

“Present and accounted for.” She considered pointing out that she always had her book bag, and that Buffy was the one who tended to forget things that weren’t of the weapony variety, but in Buffy’s hurried state this morning, it likely would’ve been a snark wasted on deaf ears. Better to save it for when it would be appreciated. She heard Buffy saying good morning and good bye type stuff to Conner in the kitchen before returning and heading out the door.

 

Her sister’s haste left her and Xander to catch up. Dawn was never sure how Buffy managed that. No matter how behind or late she might be, somehow Buffy always made it to the car first. “We don’t want to be late,” she called from the front seat and strapped herself in.

 

Dawn could only shake her head and share a knowing look with Xander. “Don’t worry, Buff, we’ve got plenty of time.” He always said that, but for today at least, Dawn agreed that it was true.

*********

Angel stared at the woman in the doorway, trying to assimilate what he was sensing. This was Tara, but at the same time it wasn’t, or at least it wasn’t only Tara. Something else occupied her body. The difference wouldn’t be so obvious to a human observer, but he could clearly sense the demon in the woman, could smell the scent of it. It was a male demon actually, which Angel somehow found curious, because the demon seemed to be quite comfortable in the very feminine body and almost exuded a fondness for his human host. Just as cozy as my own little demon is inside this shared body, he mused, and saw a smile come to the lips of his guest.

 

“This is why I came to see you,” she said. “May I come in?”

 

Angel knew it was because of her manners that she asked. Despite the demon, Tara wasn’t a vampire, and she still had her soul. She didn’t need either an invitation or an exemption from the protection spell. He frowned a little as he assessed her first statement. It was as if she had read his mind or had at least sensed his emotions, something most beings couldn’t do. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk with Buffy or Willow?” Even as he asked, he moved aside to let her enter.

 

Tara nodded as she stepped inside. She sat on the living room chair before answering his question more completely. “I’m trying to minimize my contact with the others right now.” She took a deep breath and kept eye contact. “When they look at me, I see sadness and regret, maybe even pity. It hurts to see that, because I can’t explain what’s happened to me in a way that they’ll understand, but I think you understand.”

 

Angel regarded Tara thoughtfully as she spoke. Most of what he knew of this woman came from Spike’s memories: vague images that flashed through his mind, some old but most, more recent. There was also a general sense of fondness, gratitude, respect, and concern coming from his demon now. Spike never was able to stick to just one or even two emotions at a time, something Angel was learning to get used to, albeit slowly.

 

“You can tell him that I’m alright,” she said, and Angel was sure now that Tara was able to sense at least his emotions.

 

“He heard you.”

 

Tara nodded. “I better tell you what I have to say, because it’s important.” Her smile faded. “Something terrible happened just before dawn today. Whatever it was happened because of some very powerful magic. The magic is what I, or actually Tapas, sensed. That and the darkness involved, though I seem to be more sensitive to that part. I’m not sure exactly what took place, but the energy is not all from here, and it’s definitely not positive.”

 

She’d touched her head lightly as she spoke the demon’s name, and Angel noted how similar her action was to Buffy’s or his own when speaking of Spike. Tara didn’t even seem to be aware of doing it. Angel wasn’t sure if that was comforting or disturbing. His brow furrowed, as he assessed what she’d said. “What do you mean by the energy not all being from here?” He had a pretty good idea, but he had to ask. He had to be sure.

 

“Something or somethings were called from another dimension. I know who’s involved. I can feel that much, and you’ll have to believe me when I say that the faster you act, the better.”

 

“Who is it?” Angel asked. “Are they the same one who wants to bring back Angelus?”

 

“Yes, and not exactly a ‘who’. A demon.”

 

“What kind of demon?” Angel asked, his tone becoming dark. His hands clenched into fists at his side.

 

Tara shook her head. “I can’t tell you that. There’s magic preventing me from saying anything about the identity. Even my magic can’t break that. It was built in as part of my merging.”

 

Angel started a bit. “What happened to you is part of this?” As Tara nodded in affirmation of what Angel instinctively knew, his hands unclenched, and he ran one nervously through his hair. How long had this enemy been planning this and just how far was he or she going to go? And more importantly: why?

 

Tara looked at him gravely. “You can’t understand this being’s motives. There is some revenge involved, but it has grown beyond that. It’s now become more because…”

 

Angel scoffed and finished for her. “Because he can.” He knew now for certain it was a he, though he didn’t know exactly why. He knew that females were surely capable. Darla had been his very own example after all, Angelus’ teacher in the art of evil, and often there was no such mind as devious and long-planning as that of a woman who felt she’d been wronged, but the brutality of this… It was a he, Angel was sure. And this demon had tasted the power in the act: the power that came from completely turning lives inside out bit by bit.

 

Tara had been wrong. Angel understood the motives all too well. He had the memories to remind him branded into his soul, and soon the one who gave him those memories would be part of it: a perfect counterpart to the demon who’d bring him back. Two monsters with the desire to make destruction an art form. His thoughts came to a halt as he saw Tara softly shake her head.

 

“I see you do understand after all, but you have one thing wrong.”

 

“What is that?” he asked warily.

 

“This demon isn’t bringing Angelus…”

 

The realization hit Angel like an oncoming train. “Angelus is already here.”

*********

 

He stood amongst the many shadows left by the retreating rays of the late afternoon sun. It was winter here, he could tell, not because of the temperature really, but because the sun never quite got as high as it did in summer, as if it just didn’t have the energy to rise full in the sky. That was fine with him. It made it easier to get a closer look.

 

He didn’t know why Gnash had all of a sudden come to his locked door and opened it without a word, but Angelus really didn’t care. He hadn’t even looked for the scaly demon when he’d opened the heavy door to find nothing behind it but an empty warehouse. Maybe he’d find him later. Right now, he wanted a head start, because this was going to take careful planning, especially now, since he wasn’t up to his full strength yet.  It was for that reason he was also starting small. Tonight under the cover of darkness, he’d hunt for a meal, but for now, he needed to use the daylight hours to observe his other prey.

 

He knew he wasn’t ready yet to follow her. She would know, and he didn’t want to chance a confrontation without an advantage, without some leverage. He shrunk back even farther into the shadows, wondering why Spike felt the need to roam above during the day. He certainly wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have to be. Even in the shade he felt his skin crawl. But it was necessary, he knew. He’d felt the strong magic around the house on Revello drive without even having to come close. It was protected, and all good little girls would be home and safe inside by dark.

 

Good little girls did have to go to school though. He smiled as he watched the first few students descend the stairs leading from the high school. With luck, it was early in the school week. He’d come here every day if need be. Every day until he was strong. He remembered the picture. She looked so different from her sister with dark hair and a tall, lanky frame. Somehow though, there was a resemblance, even if it was only because he imagined one.

 

He stiffened as she emerged from the doorway, his body tingling as he watched her slowly descend the stairs with her long, silky hair shimmering in the light. She talked to some friends, smiling, but this one wasn’t as carefree as her sister had been at this age. No, she’d seen much already. She’d be a little bit of a challenge. All the more reason to take this slowly. As he watched her from the shadows, Angelus could sense the old feeling rising within him, the one he’d missed for far too long. No rushing, he reminded himself. Art takes time. He watched the girl head down the street and into the waning sunlight where he couldn’t follow, but that was okay. He didn’t need to follow yet. He already had more than enough from this first sight of the young woman. Though she may not be Buffy, Dawn truly was an inspiration. Angelus couldn’t wait to turn that inspiration into a work of art.

 

TBC