Part 6

Sunnydale High, Library, 07:98 :

'So what´s the big emergency?' Xander grumbled as he staggered through the narrow paths between the Stacks.  'I really didn´t get a kick out of getting a wake-up call at eleven.'

'You think you had it bad?' Willow muttered.  'I was asleep when she called me.  You always stay up past eleven to watch some late-night TV show.'

Xander rushed to his own defense with commendable speed: 'Yeah, well, but only so I´ll fal asleep soonest.  That Leno guy, hey, what an intoxicator, huh?'  He tried a weak little laugh, then swallowed.

'I still wanna know what the problem is,' Willow groaned.  'This was supposed to be my day with no first two periods.  I was going to do some revision of my science assignment, or maybe write some new software...'

'Another well-spent morning, ey, Will?' a familiar voice rang out from the shadows.  Buffy stepped forward, smiling a little, and squeezed Wilow´s arm for comfort.  'C´mon guys, you´re really gonna love this one.  Big puzzler.'

'Good to see you too,' Xander muttered.  Then, out loud: 'I mean it´s good to see you, ´cause, well... we´re totally lost in here.  Which way do we go?'

'This way,' Giles called out, from somewhere to their right.  'And may I suggest that you hurry it along?  We don´t all of us have all morning to sit around and chat.'

Grimacing, the Slayer guided her two friends towards the exit.  The library was only half-lit, the school´s powernet not having been switched on yet.  Some candles stood on the tables and the check-out counter, casting a half-adequate glow on the room.

Overhead, the dim glow of the rising sun cast a golden hue through the rectangular window, but thick, dark clouds were partially restraining the light´s influence.

'Welcome to the Twilight Zone,' Xander quipped.  'Submitted for your approval; the Librarian who wouldn´t pay his light bill... doodoodoodoo-doodoodoodoo...'

'The powernet´s not on yet,' Giles snapped in irritation.  'Don´t start with me now, I haven´t had much sleep.  Buffy, I read most of my books on the occult, and I´ve devised some simple tests to see whether your young friend´s a demon of some sort.  Now if he´ll only get here before nine o´clock, we can get this farce over with.'

'Who?' Xander asked.  'You know, it´d be better - better for Will and me here' - he put an arm around Willow´s shoulder and pulled her close, ignoring her short look of surprise - 'if we actually knew what this was about.'

'You remember Cas?' Buffy asked, as she sprawled down into one of the chairs.

'Wilow´s love interest, you mean?' Xander asked innocently.  Willow broke free of his embrace and punched his shoulder.

'He´s not my love interest,' she said.  'I don´t date... demons, or whatever.  You think he´s a demon, Buffy?  You didn´t see him... you know, eating someone or something, did you?'

'No,' Buffy replied.  'Saw him whacking vampires silly.  And scaring the Hellmouth out of one of ´em.  Wouldn´t be surprised if he was still running.  You remember the last time something like that happened, right?'

'Natalie,' Xander replied, shivering with dread at the memories.  'Okay, where´s the insecticide?'

'Something similar, but not same, I´m afraid,' Giles said, pulling a small vial with a sticky black goo out of his pocket.  'This, I´m afraid, is the result of a full night´s work.  It combines some of the strongest rituals of demon-uncovering that are in my possession.  The rest is rituals that have to be performed with samples of the suspect´s body matter.  Hair, blood, that sort of thing.'

'Blood?  As in, `Please hold out your finger while I make with the letter opener?´' Xander asked incredulously.  'You know, I really don´t think...'

The little clock in Giles´ office chimed.  Eight times.

With a gentle groan, the library doors swung open and Cassiel walked in, seemingly nonchalant.  'I see all are gathered,' he remarked, dispassionately.  'Just as well, I wouldn´t want to give a repeat performance.'

Buffy surged to her feet in one, almost catlike move.  'Right,' she said, 'let´s have it.'

'Beg pardon?' Cassiel said, politely.

'The explanation,' the Slayer said, her eyebrows furrowing.  'You said last night that you were gonna explain how come you can send a vampire running for cover.  And where the Hell do you get the strength to beat ´em up?  That´s not normal.'

'One might enquire the same of you,' Cassiel said, seeming completely at ease, 'if one were a dullard.  It is quite obvious to me that you are the so-called Slayer.'

'How is that obvious?' Giles interjected.

'Do I have a sign on my head?' Buffy exclaimed, throwing up her arms in disgust.  'And how come this guy knows about the Slayer?  Has there been a public announcement?'

'Please,' Cassiel said, raising his voice slightly, 'there is more lore on the Slayer these days than there is about Buicks.  One can hardly be attached to one of the great English universities without stumbling across some of the books.  If one is interested in such things.'

'Excuse me,' Giles interjected again, presenting the bottle of goo.  'Please drink this.'

'Let´s see,' Cassiel muttered, holding the glass up to the light. 'Ah yes, very amusing.  So the holy water wasn´t convincing enough to you, yes?  You hope to trigger an allergic response to the supposedly pure things of the Earth.  Cheers all.'

Without a single complaint, Cassiel downed the brew, wiped his mouth and just stood there.

'Anything?' Xander asked after a lengthy interval.  'No desire to start screaming your head off, or maybe make your head spin or anything?'

'I would like a drink of water to wash away the taste,' Cassiel replied, calmly.  'Was there anything more?  Would you perhaps like to mix some of my blood with salt and see if it combusts?  Oh no, have a better one; perform a Lux Invoco over a flame and put in some of my hair.  That way, if I scream and catch fire, you´ll know for sure that I´m a demonic scourge from the bolgias of Hell.'

'He´s in the clear,' Giles sighed, taking back the flask and moving towards his office.

'No way!' Buffy exclaimed.  'I still have to hear an explanation.  Where´d you learn how to stake vampires?'

'If you must know, in the vicinity of Hadrian´s Wall,' Cassiel answered.  'Nasty buggers just leapt out at me and wouldn´t quit.'

'Where´d you get strong enough to kill vampires?' Willow asked, obviously trying to catch him off guard.

Unperturbed, Cassiel looked at her and said: 'A good regimen of exercise and a healthy diet.'

'And what is your fiendish reason for being on the Hellmouth, Mister Well-Regimened- Knowledge-Bearing-Guy?' Xander asked, obviously not taking it seriously.

'School transfer,' Cassiel replied, icily.  'Is there anything else?  Only I´m supposed to attend a computer-related class in an hour, and I´d like to read the manual some more.'

'I´m cool with that,' Xander said.  'Now if you don´t mind, I´ll go lie down there and fall asleep.'

'I´ll, I´ll walk you to your class,' Willow offered.  'Might as well try and get in some extra hours behind the Good Box, while I´m... um... here.'

'How terribly good of you,' Cassiel said, sounding not very enthusastic, but also lacking any trace of sarcasm.

'Before you go, I gotta warn you,' Bufy said.  'The vampires here can come after you in big groups.  If you go out there at night and try a little freelance slaying, you´re likely to turn up dead - or worse.  And it´s not just vampires, this whole town...'

'...is sitting on top of a Hellmouth.  Yes, I know,' Cassiel replied, his voice now definitely cold.  'I did read up on this place on the plane, you know.  Now if you´ll excuse me, I have better things to do than regurgitate the obvious.'

He turned on his heel and stalked out the Library, Willow running to catch up with him.

'Well, that bommed,' Buffy sighed.  'What did you think, Giles? Giles?'

The Librarian popped his head out of his office and went: 'Hm?  Oh!  Well, I can´t help but feel that you may have alienated a useful ally.  An extra Slayerette, I believe is the term.  Still, he may change his mind later.'

'Great,' Buffy sighed.  'Xander?'

'Who needs the English guy, anyway?' Xander said, already lying down on the big table.  'No offense there, Giles, but most English are so darn... English.'

'None taken,' Giles said, his face making a liar of his words.  He disappeared into his office again and shut the door.

'Nice way to start the week,' Buffy sighed.

*****

'I didn´t know there were vampires in England,' Willow offered as they walked through the halls.

'There are,' Cassiel said.

When Willow didn´t say anything, he sighed and went on: 'England is rithe with paranormal activities.  All sorts of them, benevolent, malicious and simply indifferent, all in conflict with one another.  It´s a bloody mess from time to time.' 'It gets pretty bad around here, too,' Willow said.  'But, we tend to keep it under control.'

'We? You fight vampires as well?' Cassiel asked.  For a moment, Willow felt hurt.  The she realised that the question was just that; a question.  No incredulity, no scorn, just... curiosity.

'Not actually fight them as in, `ram a stake through their heart or cut their heads off,´' Willow answered, 'but I do come up with the knowledge.  I´m good with computers.'

'I´ve never gotten the hang of them myself,' Cassiel sighed.  'Now, the classroom should be...' He came up short and grunted, as if someone had punched him in the stomach.

'Is something wrong?' Willow asked, worried. 'Perhaps,' Cassiel whispered, still hunched over. His eyes were intent on the classroom door, and he grimaced a couple of times.  'Do give the teacher my apologies... I shall be along presently... just need to get a drink of water...'

He walked off, staggering only slightly.  Willow looked to and through from boy to classroom, then sighed and went towards the door.

'I wonder,' she muttered, eyeing the doorknob before she opened it.  The new teacher, Miss Calendar, had hung something on the outside for good luck.  Or so she said...

'Miss Calendar, are you in yet?' Willow called out, and knocked.

*****

Sunnydale High, Bathroom, 08:34 :

Cassiel Lack´s hands were tensed around the basin of the washbowl, his knuckles white from tension.  Small cracks were forming in the coloured porcelain as he leaned on it, shuddering.

With a gasping groan he doubled over again, vomiting into the bowl.  Shuddering, he let it flow, then rose weakly and wiped off his mouth with a paper towelette.

Carefully, he used the paper to wipe off most of the noxious liquid in the bowl, then dropped the towelette in the liter-basket.  Still staggering slightly, he turned on the fosset and let the cold water wash away the last traces.

Just for a moment, the water was colored red, red as the blood that had flowed...

Part 7
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