Buffy the Vampire Slayer 1

by John Vorholt;Arthur Byron Cover;Alice Henderson

  What would Buffy do?

  She decided not to knee Lonnie in the groin, but she did pry his lips from her neck and push him firmly away. “Please, Lonnie, no!” she insisted. “I need a break.”

  He gave her a hurt look. “Hey, honey, you wanted to come in here—when it was dark and deserted, and we were all alone. Remember?”

  She nodded breathlessly. “I did, and it was all I expected—very dark, very all alone. Now I’m ready to leave.”

  With his skilled hands, he gently brushed the hair off her face. “What’s your rush? Rose and Xander will be busy for a while.”

  If he was trying to get her to stay, that was the wrong thing to say. She fought off his hands as she stumbled deeper into the spooky fun house. When her foot brushed against a metal plate, a scream sounded and a hideous creature popped out of a barrel.

  “Aaagh!” Willow screeched, frightened out of her wits until she realized that the monster was just another thrill in the fun house.

  Lonnie’s arms were all around her again, trying to be comforting. “What’s the matter, Willow? What’s your hang-up?”

  “We’re just going too fast, that’s all,” she answered, trying not to whine or whimper. “I mean, I just met you last night.”

  “And tomorrow night, I could be gone,” he said glumly. “That’s the way it is in show business. We don’t have much time.”

  “We’ll have to make time,” she insisted, pushing him away. “You know, like have a few more dates.”

  “That’s great,” Lonnie said with a derisive laugh. “I’m working every night, and you want to go out on dates.”

  “I’m sorry, that’s just the way I am. Sort of proper.”

  Lonnie nodded, and he was once again calm and reasonable. “Okay, Willow, we’ll play by your rules. Let’s get to know each other first.”

  She smiled with relief. “That would be nice.”

  “You’ve got to come by the carnival every free moment—like tonight after it closes.”

  “Tonight?” she asked with a gulp.

  “After midnight.”

  Willow tried to sound brave. “Okay, tonight after midnight.”

  “It’ll be our second date,” Lonnie said, holding her hands. “We’ll get to know each other so well, I’ll be like your high school sweetheart.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Willow said with a nervous laugh. “Him!”

  “And I’ll work as hard as I can to make sure the carnival stays in Sunnydale for as long as possible. Maybe a month.” He gave her a tender kiss on the cheek, like a true gentleman. “I suppose I should go out there and do some work. Want to watch me oil the Octopus?”

  “Sure,” Willow answered with false enthusiasm. “Let’s oil that sucker.”

  Lonnie isn’t a monster, Willow thought, just a handsome guy who is used to getting his way with girls. Deep down, he seemed to respect her, and he genuinely wanted to see her again. Maybe it was unusual to have a date at midnight, but that was the soonest they could get together. At least the summer was no longer boring.

  Feeling a new tenderness toward Lonnie, Willow let him hold her hand and guide her through the dark fun house.

  Xander stood outside a small, beat-up trailer, listening to thudding and clunking noises as Rose cleaned up her living quarters. For some reason, she wouldn’t just let him come in; she had to put things away first. In a way, this was reassuring, because it made her seem more like a regular girl. Nothing else was regular about her.

  Rose was worldly, had a great body, and was a terrific kisser. Xander tried not to wonder what she was doing with someone like him. There was always the possibility that she thought Buffy was his girlfriend, and since she didn’t like Buffy, she was trying to hurt her by stealing her boyfriend. Xander was not going to say or do anything to dissuade her from this notion. If it would help, he would say he was married to Buffy.

  Even Willow had found a summer romance at the carnival. It was truly a magical place, although it looked better at night under the twirling neon than during the harsh light of day. In the sunlight, the trailer, rides, and booths looked old and grungy, as if they had been touring for centuries.

  Xander put these grim thoughts out of his mind and concentrated on happy thoughts. Maybe the carnival will stay forever, or maybe I can find a way to stay with the carnival—and Rose—forever.

  Suddenly, the door of the trailer creaked open, and Rose stood there, wearing a Japanese silk robe and not much else. His gaze traveled up her tanned, well-shaped legs to the giant dragon splashed across her chest, and he gulped.

  “Come in,” the dark-haired seductress said.

  In his rush, Xander stumbled as he entered an old one-room camper that was even stranger than he could have imagined. There were prints and paintings on every inch of the walls, shelves full of strange animal figurines, a big wooden sea chest, a tiny bed, and what looked like a torture chamber in the corner. Or maybe it was an ancient dentist’s chair. Whatever it was, the corroded needles and tubes didn’t look very inviting.

  On top of this, the smoke of heavily scented incense floated around Rose’s cramped quarters. Xander tried not to cough, but finally he could hold it no longer—he burst out with a large hack.

  “Poor boy,” Rose said with amusement. “Can’t stand a little smoke? The incense will clear your senses.”

  “My senses have never been clearer!” Xander croaked. Now he knew where Rose got her husky voice. He lurched forward through the smoke and banged his foot on the big sea chest. “Ow!” he groaned. “What’s in this thing, an anchor?”

  When he touched the dark wood and brass fittings, Rose bolted to her feet with fire in her eyes. “Don’t touch that chest!”

  “Sorry,” Xander said, backing up and bumping into a shelf of pewter dragons, bears, and wolves. He knocked several of them onto the floor with a clatter.

  “Sorry,” he said again, even more sheepishly. He reached down to pick up the figurines.

  “Just leave them,” Rose ordered with exasperation. She sank onto her tiny mattress, which was built more for her petite frame than Xander’s.

  “Come sit over here, it’s safer.”

  When she patted the edge of her bed, Xander was there like a guided missile. “Nice bed,” he gushed. “I mean, nice place! Nice everything!”

  “It’s home,” she said with a shrug. “The towns change around us, but my lair stays the same.”

  “Your lair,” Xander echoed with a laugh. He looked around with amazement. “It is almost like a cave.”

  “Isn’t it, though.”

  “How long have you been doing this?” Xander asked. He quickly added, “I mean, traveling with the carnival.”

  “A long time.” She squeezed his shoulders as if he were a side of beef. “I’m older than I look.”

  He gave a high-pitched giggle at her tickling fingers, then tried to compose himself. “Well, you look great, no matter how old you are.”

  “Take your shirt off,” she ordered.

  “Shirt. Okay!” Xander said enthusiastically. He fumbled with the buttons, couldn’t get them open, and ended up ripping the shirt off his own back. Then he grinned stupidly at her. “I never did like that shirt.”

  “You’re so funny,” she said, studying his naked back and shoulders. “Now, where do you want your tattoo?”

  Xander blinked at her. “Tattoo?” From the corner of his eye, he again noticed the archaic tubes and needles on the contraption in the corner. Uh-oh.

  “I want to brand you, you know,” she said with a wink. “Show everyone that you’re mine.”

  “Uh, what kind of tattoo am I going to get?” Xander asked, trying to stall for time.

  “A rose, of course.”

  “Of course!” He laughed nervously. “I’ve seen your rose tattoo. I suppose you have more than that?”

  “Oh, many. Would you like to see them?”

  “Yes,” Xander rasped, trying not to drool.

  She teasingly touched his nose wi
th a lacquered red fingernail. “I bet you would. But you can’t see most of them until you get to know me better. Here’s a little one you can see.”

  Rose lifted the hem of her silky robe and showed him a tattoo of a scorpion high on her hip. Her tan went all the way up, and she didn’t appear to be wearing any underwear.

  “Nice,” Xander breathed. The incense and Rose were both doing a job on him—his senses were on overload.

  As he reached to touch the scorpion, she dropped the hem of her robe and pointed to her ankle, where there was a tiny blue star. “I love that little star,” she said. “And you should see my moon.”

  “And … and where is that?”

  “Where a moon ought to be.” Rose winked at him, stood, and crossed to the tattoo machine in the corner. “You didn’t tell me where you wanted your tattoo.”

  “Uh, well—” Xander gulped and rose uneasily to his feet. “You know, I really hadn’t thought too much about getting a tattoo—until now. I think I should study them, look at some books, and think about all the possible places you could put one.”

  He grinned. “Maybe if I saw more of your tattoos, that would inspire me.”

  Rose sauntered back to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pulled him tantalizingly close to her. “You’re a smart boy, aren’t you? You’re not going to give something for nothing. You will belong to Rose, whether you wear her brand or not.”

  “That’s okay with me,” Xander said heavily, his lips almost touching hers.

  “The carnival closes at midnight,” she whispered. “Come back and meet me, and you’ll see the stars, the moon … and everything else.”

  “Midnight,” he muttered as his lips eagerly found hers.

  Xander tried to control himself, but he kissed like a man in a vacuum chamber, gasping for air. He wanted to consume her, to drink her, to breathe her! Nothing was ever so wonderful as her embrace, especially when she pressed her body against his and ran her fingernails through his hair. Just when he thought he could stand no more, the door banged open.

  Both of them jumped with surprise, and they turned to see an ominous figure standing in the doorway, silhouetted in bright sunlight. Xander was reminded of old westerns, when the hero strides into a saloon to clean out the bad guys.

  “Buffy!” he gasped. “What are you doing here?”

  She ignored him and strode right up to Rose. “Okay, Thorny, turn him loose.”

  “He’s mine now,” Rose declared. She dropped her hands and balled them into fists.

  Xander quickly grabbed her hands and tried to put them back on his neck. “No, no, don’t turn me loose! Hold on to me. I might get away!”

  But the mood was broken, as Buffy and Rose glared laser beams at each other. Gosh, Xander thought, things could be worse. They’re both beautiful, and they’re fighting over me!

  “That’s all right, ladies, there’s plenty enough to go around,” he assured them. But, Buffy, why don’t you split now—I’m on a date, he tried to tell her with his eyes.

  The Slayer never took her eyes off Rose. “Xander, there’s something I’ve got to tell you about these people. Can you wait outside?”

  “You wait outside!” Rose snapped, pushing Buffy toward the door. When the Slayer dropped into her fighting stance, Xander feared that Rose would get a mouthful of feet.

  “Oh, are you going to do some kung fu on me?” the carny asked with a laugh. “I think you watch too much TV.”

  “Don’t get into a fight with her!” Xander warned.

  “I’m already in a fight with her.” Rose whirled around in a lightning-fast motion and slugged Buffy, sending her tumbling out the door into the dusty midway.

  While Buffy writhed on her back, Rose sprang out of the trailer and landed on her throat, snarling like a wild animal. It took every ounce of Buffy’s strength to keep the dark-haired woman’s teeth from her throat, but the Slayer finally pushed her off and rolled free.

  Both women jumped to their feet and circled each other warily. Fortunately, the carnival was still closed, so there weren’t any witnesses to this fight, except for Xander.

  “Come on, Buffy,” Xander pleaded. “You’re taking this thing too far! Fighting doesn’t solve anything. If only you had told me how you felt about me, and that you were so jealous—”

  “Jealous?” Buffy asked in amazement. “Xander, I only wanted to talk to you for a second.”

  “You couldn’t leave me a message?” he wailed.

  Rose finally doubled over, laughing. “You two are a real pair! It’s been fun, Xander, but I’ve got to go to work. If you want to ditch this confused teenybopper for a real woman, you know where to find me, and what time.” With that, Rose stalked into her trailer and slammed the door shut behind her.

  “Confused teenybopper?” Buffy muttered angrily.

  “You are confused!” Xander shouted, waving his arms in exasperation. “And you’re acting like a teenybopper. First you bust into Rose’s trailer, assault my date, and then you say it was for no reason!”

  Buffy lowered her voice. “I did it to save you.”

  “Save me!” he shrieked. “You saved me from the one thing in the world I least want to be saved from!”

  “Your love life is not the issue,” Buffy said. “Your life—”

  “My life? These people have been real nice to me and Willow. And they haven’t done anything to you! Sure, maybe they try to make a few bucks from the locals, but that makes them normal! You’re the only one who’s acting crazy around here. These people are not monsters.”

  Buffy grabbed his sleeve. “Come with me to the library. Let’s sit down with Giles and—”

  “The only monster is you!” Xander snapped, yanking his arm away from her. “It’s not part of your job description to ruin my dates.”

  He stormed off toward the midway, and Buffy chased after him. “When are you supposed to see her again?”

  Xander covered his ears. “I’m not hearing you—you’re not here!”

  “Where’s Willow?”

  “I don’t know, and I wouldn’t tell you even if I did know!” He turned and glared at her. “You didn’t want me, Buffy, so mellow out.”

  • • •

  As Xander stalked off, Buffy stood dumbfounded in the middle of the deserted carnival. Boy, I sure messed that up. Not only had she failed to save Xander, but she had driven him toward the enemy. Of course, the enemy was shapely and pretty, so it didn’t take much to lose Xander. Even if she found Willow, she doubted she could make her believe that the carnies were really werecoyotes.

  The only real evidence she had was a chewed-up dog collar. The rest of it was just hunches and gut instinct. It was even possible that she was wrong, in which case she may have lost a good friend for nothing.

  Could Xander be right? Was part of her reaction caused by jealousy? Being cute and cuddly, Buffy had always taken boys for granted, and that was fine in her previous life. Since becoming the Slayer, however, her love life had gone down the garbage disposal. Normally, this strengthened her bond with Willow and Xander, who were hopeless in romance for other reasons—but since the carnival they had suddenly gotten hot love lives. All Buffy had was a weird, majorly dangerous job whose pay stank.

  She took a deep breath and tried to squelch the feeling-sorry-for-herself routine. Fighting evil had to be its own reward. Even though she had alienated one of her best friends, Buffy had learned one thing: Rose was unusually strong for a human. Her strength and agility made her a match for Buffy, or even a vampire. Once again, that was a nice thing to know, but it didn’t prove anything.

  The Slayer brushed the dust off her shirt and jeans, then began to stroll nonchalantly out of the carnival. When she had entered, there were a handful of carnies working and hanging out—she had asked one of them how to get to Rose’s trailer. Now they were gone, except for one.

  Hopscotch, the man with the coyote eyes, stood watching her from the deck of the Tilt-a-Whirl. His craggy face looked full of
suspicion and disappointed at the same time, and he was wiping his hands on a grimy rag. Buffy felt like asking him a few questions, but she had picked enough fights for one day. She put her head down and hurried on her way.

  Maybe Giles would have some answers.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Buffy wandered into the darkened school library and found Giles hunched over a table full of old books. Only one small desk lamp was turned on, and he had six books open underneath it. His nose was buried inside a large coffee-table book full of colorful paintings, and he was rapidly scribbling notes.

  “Hi,” she said, causing him to lift his chin and finally acknowledge her presence.

  “Hello!” he answered cheerfully. “Spurs Hardaway turns out to be a fascinating character—just the sort of person to live in Sunnydale. Um, how are Xander and Willow?”

  “They’re fabulous, I guess.” Buffy shrugged and slumped into a chair across the table from him. “Xander’s mad at me, and Willow’s disappeared. Even her mother doesn’t know where she is—only that she won’t be home until late tonight. Of course, neither one of them wants to hear anything from me.”

  “What do you mean?” Giles asked in alarm.

  “I mean we can’t count on them this time. They’re on the other side, giving aid and comfort to the enemy.”

  Giles nodded thoughtfully. “I presume you still think that the carnival workers are the werecoyotes?”

  “Yes, but I don’t have any proof, except for a dog collar,” Buffy muttered. “Xander is really ga-ga over his carnival babe, and Willow is in the clutches of a super-hunk with lots of smooth lines.”

  She could tell that Giles was trying to phrase his next remark delicately. “You seem awfully certain about this, but it is possible that the carnival folk are harmless.”

  Buffy rolled her eyes. “You haven’t met them. Even if they’re not werecoyotes, they’re far from harmless.”

  “But that’s a decision Xander and Willow should make for themselves.”

  “Duh! I know everybody thinks I’m playing Mrs. Brady, but I know what I know … or what I feel.” Buffy tossed her honey-blond hair. “Enough about Xander and Willow—what did you find out?”