Here Be Monsters, page 5
“Xander,” Buffy said warningly.
“What?” Xander said. “It’s a reasonable question. Inquiring minds want to know.”
“You’re right,” Willow told Suz. “They do dress funny.”
“Out of date,” Angel put in.
Xander snorted. “Like you’d know.” Then his expression changed, as if a new thought had suddenly occurred to him.
“Wait for it,” Oz said. “Here it comes.”
“Hold it a second,” Xander went on, all his attention now on Angel. “Are you trying to say you recognize those guys?”
“Never seen ’em before,” Angel said calmly, “though you could say I’m . . . familiar with the type.” His dark eyes sought Buffy’s. “I’m willing to bet these are new kids in town.”
“Well, then,” Buffy said, sliding from her stool to stand beside him. “I’d say a warm Sunnydale welcome is in order.”
“What are you guys talking about?” whined Suz Tompkins.
* * *
Ten minutes later, Buffy and Angel were in the alley behind the Bronze. Not that it had taken that long to come up with their plan of attack, which was pretty straightforward:
1. Locate twin vamps.
2. Dust ’em.
3. Call it a night and head for home.
But ten minutes was how long it had taken Buffy to convince Suz to let her handle things, while Oz and Willow drove her home with Xander sort of riding shotgun. After that, the Scooby Gang would proceed to the school library to rendezvous with Buffy and do a check-in with Giles.
Now that she’d gotten a good look at her two supposed stalkers, much of Suz’s fear had vanished. She was all for taking them out herself. Right here. Right now. After she’d done whatever it took to make them tell her what they’d done to Leila and Heidi. Buffy didn’t bother to explain how different the torture would be in this case.
“Suz does have a point,” Buffy said, as she and Angel moved cautiously down the alley. The guys hadn’t looked very tough, but Buffy was the expert on how appearances could be deceiving. She already had a stake drawn.
“Which is?” Angel said.
“We should at least try to confirm whether or not these guys were responsible for whatever happened to Heidi and Leila.”
“Okay,” Angel said. “You tickle them till they spill the beans. I’ll hold ’em down.”
Buffy sighed. “You’ve been watching the cartoon network again, haven’t you?”
“I have to do something all day. I get bored.”
“Try attending Sunnydale High.”
“Oooh, look, Webster,” said a voice behind them.
With Angel pivoting with perfect precision beside her, Buffy spun around. Behind them were the twins from the Bronze, the fitful glow of the Bronze’s back door light reflecting off their beady little yellow eyes. The boys were in vamp mode, reverting to their true colors now that they weren’t really out in public anymore.
“Well, well,” Angel murmured. “Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.”
He could have sworn the alley behind them had been empty just a moment before. He’d checked. Angel was good at things like that. He knew what made a difference, after all.
“I told you this was going to be our lucky night,” said the one in the maroon tie. “Two for the price of one.”
“I don’t know, Percy,” navy blue tie said nervously. “You know Mama doesn’t like it when we take on even odds.”
“What are you gonna do? Tell on me?” Percy taunted.
“You’re not supposed to talk to me like that!” the vamp named Webster wailed. “Mama said so.”
“Mama’s boys,” Angel said in disgust. “I hate mamas’ boys.”
Buffy elbowed him in the stomach. “I hate it when you steal all my best lines.”
“Sorry,” Angel said.
“You can make it up to me,” Buffy suggested with a quick bat of her eyes.
“How?”
Buffy raised her arm. “Help me introduce Tweedledum and Tweedledee here to Mr. Pointy.”
Angel’s devil-may-care grin flashed out. Buffy felt her pulse kick up a notch.
“You’re on,” Angel promised. “It’s my turn to count, though.”
“You only ever go to three,” Buffy mock-complained.
“One . . . Two . . .” Angel said.
In perfect harmony, perfect rhythm, the Slayer and the vampire lunged forward.
CHAPTER 5
Webster wailed like a blubbering banshee, but he and Percy held their ground. For one beat of the Slayer’s accelerated heart, it appeared to Buffy that all she and Angel were going to have to do was walk right up and stake the twin twerps through their black little vampire hearts.
It can’t possibly be this easy, she thought.
She was right. It wasn’t. Percy and Webster waited until Buffy and Angel were almost on them. Then they, too, rushed forward.
Buffy reacted on instinct, shoving the stake up the sleeve of her jacket and dropping to her back on the pavement of the alley, the air whooshing from her lungs as she went down hard. She lifted her right leg, knee bent like a tumbler at the circus, and caught the vamp in the maroon tie with her foot, square in the stomach.
As he began to double over, she caught his wrists, then used his own momentum to pitch him over. Beside her, she heard Angel give a grunt of exertion and knew he was accomplishing the same thing, though she didn’t look to see quite how.
As soon as the vamp cleared, Buffy vaulted to her feet and whipped around. By the time she’d completed her turn, the stake was back in her fist, in the ready position once more. Buffy wasn’t about to leave her back exposed, not even for an instant. Especially not to a vampire in penny loafers.
Once more, the four stared at each other.
“Oooh, that was fun, wasn’t it?” the vamp in the maroon tie asked, his fangs gleaming as he grinned. “Didn’t you think that was fun, Webster?”
“He got my shirt dirty,” Webster said. Buffy had to admit she was impressed. So few individuals, dead or alive, could glare and sulk all at the same time. “Let’s get out of here, Percy. I want to go home.”
“Well, that makes one of you smarter than you look,” Angel commented.
Webster poked his bottom lip out. “You’re mean,” he said. “I don’t think I like you. And you definitely shouldn’t talk to me like that. Mama wouldn’t like it. If she finds out about it, there’s no telling what she might do.”
“I think I’ll risk it,” Angel said.
“Oh, but we’re plenty smart, aren’t we, Webster?” Percy broke in, grabbing his brother by the arm to silence him. “To prove it, let’s all take this little quiz. Two of us can escape anytime we want to. Two of us are caught like rats in a trap. Which one’s which?”
It was true, Buffy realized. The exchange of position had given the vamps a potential advantage. They had the mouth of the alley open behind them while Buffy and Angel were backed by a dead end. Cornered. Rats. Trap. Pretty accurate description. Not that Buffy was going to reveal that, of course. Over my dead body.
Or, preferably, theirs.
“Come over here and I’ll give you the answer,” she challenged.
“You’ve got spunk,” Percy commented with a grin. “I like that. You don’t look quite right, of course. But I’m willing to be flexible, considering the circumstances.”
Buffy could hardly believe her ears. Some vampire with the fashion sense of a fifties geek was dissing her sartorial selections? Please.
“You’re telling me you choose your victims because of what they look like?” she asked, her tone incredulous. “You don’t suppose that’s shallow or anything.”
“It isn’t either shallow,” Webster spoke up, his tone defensive. “Appearances are very important. You have to keep them up, no matter what. Mama says so.”
“Your mother’s first name wouldn’t happen to be Martha, would it?” Buffy muttered.
“Are we done talking yet?” Angel suddenly asked. “ ’Cause, at the rate we’re going, I’m thinking we might as well just get comfortable and wait for the sun to come up.”
“Oh, no!” Webster squealed. “We can’t do that. We can’t let the sun touch us or we’ll burn up.”
Angel gave a snarl, morphing into vamp mode. “Tell me about it.”
The twins jolted back a step. Cheap shot, Angel, Buffy thought.
“Wait a minute!” Webster wailed. “That’s no fair. You’re supposed to be on our side.”
“I suggest you learn to deal real fast,” Angel said. “Because I’m not. Stake me,” he went on, extending one hand toward Buffy.
Without taking her eyes off the twins, the Slayer reached into her jacket pocket, produced a stake, and slapped it into Angel’s outstretched palm.
“Don’t hurt yourself with that,” she warned.
“Trust me, I’ve got other plans. The whiner’s mine.”
“You can have him,” Buffy promised. “All I want’s a couple of minutes with fashion-consultant-boy.”
She dropped into a fighter’s crouch, tossing her stake from hand to hand, watching the way Percy followed it with his eyes.
“It’s been fun,” Angel said.
* * *
Webster simply turned and ran, with Angel right behind him. Buffy swore she heard one last cry of “Mama!” before the two disappeared around the end of the alley. She continued to toss the stake from hand to hand as she and Percy began to circle one another.
Buffy stayed low to the ground, her steps slow and gliding. Webster was a wimp, that much was plain. It was equally plain that Percy would fight like a wild animal when cornered. Much as she wanted to finish him off, Buffy knew better than to simply wade right in. Every instinct that she had was screaming at her that Percy would fight dirty.
She tossed the stake left. Abruptly, Percy feinted right, hoping to wrong-hand her, catch her off balance. It was exactly the kind of move Buffy’d been waiting for. The kind that would give her the opening she wanted.
She brought her right leg up in a swift cross-kick, catching the young vampire hard in the gut. Percy doubled over. Buffy raised her arm to knock him down with a blow to the back of the neck, but before she could land it, one of Percy’s arms snaked out.
His fingers closed around the back of one of Buffy’s knees, then viciously yanked forward. The joint buckled. Buffy went down. Percy scuttled backward out of range. He straightened as Buffy pushed herself to her feet. Again, the Slayer and the vampire circled one another, the stake in Buffy’s hands a blur of motion.
Buffy’s adrenaline was telling her to close in, to finish the job. But she forced herself to slow down. There was something she had to do first. Something she’d promised herself, and Suz Tompkins. She went back to throwing the stake in slow, even strokes. Left. Right. Right. Left.
“You’re never going to be able to do this, you know,” Percy said, as if he and Buffy were conversing at an afternoon tea party. “But if you give up now, I swear I’ll make it quick.”
“Right,” Buffy nodded. “Dead guys. Living guys. You all make the same promises.”
She could feel her pulse beating, quick and light. There was a funny taste in the back of her mouth, but she couldn’t quite identify it.
“Well, what are you waiting for, sugar? I’m right here. Don’t you want to finish me off?” Percy taunted.
Left. Right. Right. Left. Buffy watched Percy’s eyes as they tried not to follow the stake. Knew her actions were starting to rattle and annoy him. Buffy grinned. Rattling was good. And annoying. She really liked annoying.
“What do you think, bright boy?”
“I think you’re not quite so brave without a big, strong guy beside you,” Percy snapped, not quite so in control of himself now. “You’re afraid a little girl like you won’t be able to finish the job she started. Well, let me tell you something. You’d be right, honey.”
Buffy tossed right, then tossed the stake end over end, the wood slapping as it hit the palm of her hand. End. Point. End. Point. Die later. Die now. Die later. Die now.
“Throwback. Vampire male chauvinist pig,” she challenged.
“Oooh,” Percy squealed. “You can talk dirty. I love it. I take back what I said before, when I said you weren’t right for me. I think you’re absolutely perfect, honey. Come on over here and let me prove it to you.”
Abruptly, Buffy recognized the taste that filled her mouth. It was outrage. It was loathing. She wasn’t a big vamp fan at the best of times, but this one was really something.
She supposed it was fair to say that Percy and his brother were just doing what vamps do, but they’d added a wrinkle Buffy definitely didn’t care for. They’d deliberately targeted teenage girls. Chosen their victims because of what they looked like, if Buffy was getting the picture right.
Talk about fashion police. As if just being a female between the ages of twelve and twenty wasn’t enough of a challenge.
Buffy gripped the end of the stake in her right hand, weaving it in the air before her. Die now. Any little minute now.
“So that’s how you picked those other two girls. It was just two, wasn’t it?”
“Two down, you to go,” Percy acknowledged.
“But why those girls?” Buffy asked. “Because of what they looked like? What’d they do, wear too much make-up?”
“They didn’t look like ladies,” Percy said. “The same way you don’t. Ladies should be soft and feminine-looking. Mama says girls who don’t are only good for one thing.”
To be victims, Buffy thought. She felt the bitter taste flood her mouth. One long, thin finger of bile inched its way up the back of her throat. She swallowed it down.
Obviously, Percy’s beloved mama had been letting him watch way too many retro slasher movies. Everybody knew looks-equals-death had gone out with The Blob.
“Funny,” she said. “My mother always told me never to judge a book by its cover. But, in your case, I’m willing to make an exception.”
“Ha ha. Very funny,” Percy said. “Pardon me while I die laughing.”
“Just so long as you die.”
Deciding she’d had more than enough, Buffy darted forward. Percy put his head down and rushed. Buffy gave a grunt as the vampire’s crew-cut head rammed into the pit of her stomach. With a roar, Percy kept on going, slamming Buffy up hard against the nearest wall. Buffy’s head whipped back, hitting the bricks with a sickening smack. Her whole head roared with pain. Bright pinpoints of hot, white light danced at the edges of her eyes.
Automatically, she locked her knees to keep herself steady, keep her body from sliding down the wall. She shook her head, desperately trying to clear her vision. There were two Percys now.
“I just love that sound, don’t you?” they said as they danced backward, out of staking range. Smart vamps would have pressed their advantage, but not the Percys. They were too into the cat-and-mouse thing.
“The last one’s head sounded like that too,” the Percys confided. “Just like a nice ripe watermelon. Don’t worry, though. She didn’t feel a thing. Not by that time.”
Buffy managed to suck in a breath, the first since her close encounter with the vampire’s cranium. Her head felt like it was being worked on by a burly construction worker with an enormous jackhammer.
She shook her head again, harder this time. Nerve endings screamed in protest. A burst of colored lights joined the white ones at the edges of her eyes. But it worked. Her vision cleared. No concussion. Excellent.
Now there was just one incredibly annoying vampire standing in front of her. One incredibly annoying vampire who didn’t have very long to live, if Buffy Summers had anything to say about it.
“Don’t you ever lose the urge to talk?”
“Well, you wanted to know about the others,” Percy protested in a hurt voice. “If you don’t want to know, you shouldn’t ask. You don’t have to go and be all rude about it.”
“Is that what Mama says?” Buffy asked. She sidled toward him. Closing. She was halfway across the alley when her progress was halted by a wailing cry.
“Maamaa . . .”
To Buffy’s astonishment, Webster reappeared at the entrance to the alley with Angel right behind him.
“How come you’re back?” the Slayer asked.
“I think it’s a twin bonding thing,” Angel answered as he and Webster hurtled toward her.
“Webster, look out!” Percy shouted. But it was already too late. Buffy stuck her foot out. Webster went flying, his navy blue tie streaming out over his shoulder. He landed in the row of trash cans opposite the back door of the Bronze and lay still. With a snarl of rage, Percy leaped for Angel’s back.
Angel spun around, then backed up full force. This time, it was Percy’s head that made that lovely watermelon sound. Once, twice, Angel hurled himself back against the side of the Bronze. But Percy continued to cling like a leech.
“Back-up plan,” Buffy called out. Angel staggered forward. Buffy ran straight at the wall, took two quick banking steps up it. Then she flipped, twisting in midair and came straight down, stake plunging. Straight into the middle of Percy’s unprotected back.
Snarling in pain and rage, he threw his head back. His feral yellow eyes focused on Buffy for a fraction of a second.
“Mama isn’t going to like this one little bit,” he said.
Buffy pulled the stake out and Percy crumbled.
“Let’s hope she knows how to use a Dust-Buster.”
Angel brushed vamp dust off his shoulders.
“Oh, sorry,” Buffy said, reaching up to help.
Angel shrugged. “No problem.”
Together, Buffy and Angel turned to where Webster lay in a heap of overturned trash cans at the back of the alley. Buffy seriously hoped that none of the Bronze’s rowdier patrons had deposited anything too disgusting in them lately. She had a feeling Webster the whiner wasn’t coming out. That meant she’d have to go in after him.
“You killed my brother,” Webster complained. He sat up with a rustle of garbage. “You weren’t supposed to do that.”
