Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html HISTORIAN’SNOTE This story takes place during the third season. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. AnOriginalPublication of POCKET BOOKS POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc. 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020 ™ and © 2001 Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation. All rights reserved. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020 Vist us on the World Vide Web: http://www.SimonSays.com ISBN: 0-7434-3156-1 POCKET and colophon are registeredtrademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc. For Sherry— You complete me and make me more than I ever was alone. Acknowledgements to . . . Lisa Clancy, who makes this one of the greatest jobs ever! Micol Ostow, who keeps all things schedule rolling along with grace and charm! Annette and Matt Price, big Buffy fans and owners of Speeding Bullet Comics in Norman, Oklahoma. Lesley Alison Craven, because cousin Michael T. Leslie asked me to. Chapter 1 Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html “SHE WAS AFRAID,”WILLOW ROSENBERGSAID AS SHEcarefully made her way through the graveyard. Full night had descended an hour ago, and moonlight cast harsh black shadows of tombstones and crypts on the gray-lit cemetery grounds. Except for the places where families with flashlights and lanterns were gathered around the graves and tombs. She pulled at the dark green sweater she wore in an effort to ward off the chill sweeping in across Sunnydale from the Pacific Ocean. It didn’t help. Goosebumps still formed on top of goosebumps, and she didn’t really think it was just the cold wind. Part of the fear that filled her was from the graveyard.No matter how well-kept and clean looking a graveyard is,she thought,the wholeBetter Homes & Gardensthing just kind of goes out the window when you know a vampire or some other creepy creature could be clawing itsway up from a grave at any moment to suck your blood or try to steal your soul. The instant she realized that, Willow felt a little ashamed, especially when she noticed all the light from the flashlights and lanterns scattered around them in the graveyard. The families were all so busy. Tonight was a special night for the family members visiting the cemetery, a night of respect and love. The thought of a bereaved ancestor equipped with talons and fangs actually popping up from one of the crypts was just— just— Willow giggled—a high, thin, nervous sound—before she clapped a hand over her mouth. She whipped her head around and glanced at her companions to see if they’d noticed. Buffy Summers, blond and petite and wearing a todiefor black calf-length leather coat, looked at her friend with concern. “Are you okay, Will?” “I did that out loud, didn’t I?” Willow asked, face burning with embarrassment under her hand. She could face down vampires and dread demons, but a social faux pas could still unnerve her. Buffy hesitated and glanced at Angel, obviously not wanting to be the bearer of bad news. Angel hesitated, then shrugged and gave a quick nod. “Yeah. Maybe a little.” “Oh. Sorry.” “It’s okay,” Angel said. “No harm done. I don’t think anyone heard you but us.” Tall and broad-shouldered, Angel’s dark eyes reflected far-off thoughts and a total familiarity with guilt and pain. After all,Willow thought,being a vampire for over two hundred years, killing hundreds of people, then getting your soul back doesn’t contribute to a happy, carefreeexistence. Or even a happy, carefree nonexistence. Or after-existence. Whatever. “It’s just this place,” Willow said, “and all these people out here cleaning graves.” She indicated all the families working on different grave sites. It was the first time she’d ever seen 409 and Fantastik spray cleaners, dishwashing gloves, and mops at a graveyard, and it was jarring. Some of the visitors just used brooms to sweep the grave sites and rake the leaves. Buffy looked around and nodded. “All this neatfreakishness is really creeping me out. Earlier, a little old grandmother behind me pulled out a spray bottle andhiss-hisseda couple times and I almost clocked her before I realized she wasn’t a vampire.” Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html “That would have been not good,” Willow agreed. Buffy seemed a little perturbed at making the mistake, which Willow understood completely. Making mistakes equals unfun. “You never really notice how much a spray bottle sounds like a vampire till you hear it in a graveyard,” Buffy said. She knew a lot about vampires, and she was still learning about demons and other things that hunted, haunted, and otherwise lurked around the Hellmouth that Sunnydale had been built on. She was the Slayer, the girl born to be the Chosen One, equipped with powers and abilities that allowed her to combat vampires and other deadly creatures. Those powers, however, didn’t keep her from getting killed. Slayers, as a general rule, didn’t die of old age. The grave cleaning went on around them, with appropriate sounds of scrubbing and sweeping and raking. The activity filled the cemetery with unaccustomed noise, which somehow made it creepier. Most cemeteries Willow visited were quiet—at least until all the growlingand gnashing of teeth started as vampires dug their way out of their graves before they went out hunting for victims. “You said your friend was afraid,” Angel reminded her. “Well, she is,” Willow confirmed, brushing a lock of auburn hair from her face. “She told you that?” Angel asked. “No. I could just tell.” Angel glanced around, appearing uneasy. Willow knew he was looking for the thing to be afraid of. “She didn’t tell me what she was afraid of. Exactly.” Angel looked back at her, obviously waiting. “You know how you can just kind of tell things about a person?” Willow asked, trying to defend her statement. “Like when someone says they broke up with their boyfriend, but you know they’re not telling the truth? That really he dumped her?” A total lack of comprehension showed in Angel’s dark eyes. “Don’t worry about it,” Buffy said to Willow, then turned to Angel. “It’s not a guy power.” Angel nodded, then glanced at Willow again. “So your friend told you shewasn’tafraid to come to the cemetery tonight? Only you knew that she was.” “Not quite.” Willow took a deep breath.Why is it guys just never can get the easy things in life? Like basic uncommunicated communication? The things you aren’t supposed to know, but do, but also understand you’re not supposed to talk about. At least, not with that person who told you, but really didn’t tell you.“She told me shewasafraid.” “Which means she wasn’t,” Angel said, trying desperately to catch up to the logic. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html “No,” Willow replied, “Jia Li told me she was afraid,trying to let me think it was all a big joke so I wouldn’t notice she was trying to act like she wasn’t afraid when she really was.” Angel gave her a crinkly-eyed, crooked-lippedhuh?expression that sort of reminded Willow of a confused, whipped puppy. Not that Willow would ever whip a puppy, but she’d seen them scared before. Oz, her boyfriend, got that look every now and then right before he turned into a werewolf. It was always a moment of serious cuteness that was cut short by the I’m-a-ravenousbeast-gonna-swallow-your-headgrowl. “Look, guys, at this rate I’m going to need a scorecard.” Angel was definitely lost, but he didn’t sound aggravated, which was way cool in Willow’s book. Buffy smiled up at him and put her arm through his. “We’re here to check on Willow’s friend. Just to make sure nothing weird or creepy is out here to get her.” Angel nodded. “Okay. I can deal.” “We,”Buffy corrected.“Wecan deal. I asked you along, remember? So technically this is my party.” “Sure,” Angel said. Buffy grinned at him. “But don’t worry. Tonight I’m feeling generous. I promise to share any creepy things we come across.” “Vampires aren’t exactly party favors,” Willow pointed out, not feeling as confident as her friend. But that was the Buffy she knew, the one always ready with a joke or a comeback.Well, ready most of the time, and funny most of the time. “Oh, I don’t know,” Buffy said, taking her stake from her coat pocket. “When they meet Mr. Pointy and explode into dust, they kind of remind me of piÒatas. Only without the treats.” She returned the stake to its hiding place. “Do you know where your friend is?” Angel asked. Willow pointed ahead. “At that end of the graveyard. I checked the graveyard plot location records on my computer when I got home from school. The family grave is down that way.” She started walking again and they followed. “What’s your friend’s name?” Angel prompted. Willow let out her breath, thinking calm thoughts. “Jia Li.” “Jia Li what?” “Jia Li Rong,” Willow said. “That’s why I thought I had the right grave.” “Because it was the only Rong one?” Buffy waved at the dozens of graves around them. “If there’s only one right grave, there’s a whole lot of wrong ones.” Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html “Willow looked up the Rong grave,” Angel explained. “R-O-N-G. Rong.” Buffy blinked. “Oh.” “It’s a Chinese name,” Willow explained. “Jia Li is Chinese.” The Emerald Lotus Cemetery wasn’t just for Chinese families, Willow knew from her research earlier. It wasn’t even only for Asian families. But back when this section of Sunnydale was being built, there were a lot of Chinese families who worked on railroads in the nineteenth century and settled in the area. There had been a lot of prejudice back in those days and there had been separate graveyards. Now, the Emerald Lotus Cemetery was a historical landmark from early Sunnydale. “Jai Li said she always liked the name Mandy,” Willow said. “Her mom liked Barry Manilow and was always singing that song. Jia Li says the only reason her mother didn’t name her Mandy was because of her father. Her father didn’t like American names.” “Well, that kind of works out,” Buffy said. “Mandy Rong just sounds that way. Jia Li Rong sounds way cooler.” “That’s what I told her.” Willow smiled, glad to find something they could agree on. They walked through the graveyard, passing a number of graves that showed signs of cleaning. Several of them had imitation paper money, small rice cakes, and other items decorating the graves. Families stood around grave sites and sang or talked or prayed quietly. Candle flames on top of tombstones fluttered in the wind. “What’s with all the cleaning?” Buffy asked. “It’s April fifth,” Willow replied. “Okay, and . . . ” The path Willow was following dead-ended at a huge crypt constructed of gray and black stone. Going around to the left would have meant intruding on a family ceremony that included several weeping members. Willow guessed that this ancestor was recently departed.Choosing not to interrupt, she headed around the crypt to the right, toward the shadows at the back of the cemetery. “April fifth this year,” Willow explained, “is Ching Ming.” At their identical, prompting looks, she went on. “Ching Ming is the traditional Chinese grave-sweeping day. Kind of like Memorial Day here. Only with cleaning and munchies.” At the end of the crypt, the path wound around to the ten-foot tall honeysuckle-covered wrought iron fence. Dark forest lay beyond the fence, and farther beyond that were the lights of downtown Sunnydale. “What is your friend afraid of?” “She’s never visited this ancestor’s grave before.” Willow turned and walked along the fence. The heady honeysuckle scent was almost overpowering. “So?” “So,” Willow said, brushing some of the honeysuckle aside so she could pass more easily, “she’s Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html afraid.” “Of what?” “Her ancestor.” “If this great-great-great-great-granduncle died one hundred and fifty years ago,” Buffy said, “I don’t think he’s going to be much of a threat. Unless he’s a vampire.” “Nope.” At least, Willow was pretty sure he wasn’t a vampire. “And,” Buffy went on, “why would he want to hurt Jia Li? They didn’t even know each other.” “No, but Jia Li’s ancestor was killed or murdered.” “Still in the dark here,” Buffy said. “More than just the shadowy, crawling with honeysuckle, end of the graveyard dark, I mean.” “There’s a Chinese belief,” Angel put in quietly, “that if a person is murdered or dies an untimely death he or she will return as a hungry ghost, an orphan soul doomed to wander as a semiconscious entity.” “Now there’s a real career goal,” Buffy commented. “But the bad part is,” Willow said, “that hungry ghosts, also calledgueiin Chinese, are resentful and confused. They try to take out their frustration by injuring or possessing the bodies of family members because they haven’t seen to it their souls are put to rest. The Chinese even have a special ceremony in October to deal with theguei.” “Getting a really gross picture of thegooeyin my mind,” Buffy said. “They’re not really a problem,” Willow said. “At least, not after you exorcised them or conducted the ceremony of Universal Salvation.” She shrugged. “I guess I researched a little extra on the Internet.” “Bonus points, overachiever. So Jia Li is afraid of visiting this ancestor’s grave exactly why?” “She didn’t say, but I guess it’s because she’s afraid that he could turn out to be a hungry ghost. None of the family has ever been here before. They moved here just before Christmas.” “Really?” “Yeah,” Willow said. “Her brother, Lok?” “I know Lok Rong.” The disgusted tone in Buffy’s voice told Willow that her friend really had met Lok. He kind of left that impression on nearly everybody—especially girls. “Well, Lok was getting into some trouble over there and Jia Li’s dad got the opportunity to set up business here. So they moved.” “That’s cool. So what kind of business?” “A restaurant. The Topaz Dragon.” Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html “I’ve heard of it. Haven’t been there.” Willow stepped over a pothole. “Oh, you should go there sometime. They’ve got really great food.” “I will.” Angel cleared his throat, which was kind of tricky, Willow thought, because as a vampire he didn’t need to breathe, so probably throat clearing wasn’t a thing he did very often. “Maybe we could stick to the agenda here just a little longer,” Angel suggested. “How did the ancestor die?” “Don’t know. Didn’t ask. That seemed kind of personal. Just picked up on the fear factor I was getting from Jia Li and did a little snooping. I thought since you guys were going to be on patrol tonight anyway that it would be no big deal to swing by here, make sure everything was okay.” Willow continued making her way along the fence, conscious of the fact that as carefully as she went, she was the only one making noise. Buffy and Angel moved as silently as shadows. “She’s my friend.” “I’m always there for a friend, Will,” Buffy said. “Even a friend of a friend. You know that.” Yeah, but I also know you were looking for some alone-time with Angel,Willow thought. She felt bad about interrupting that because her friends already had enough hardships in their lives without her asking them along on what might ultimately be a snipe hunt. Since Angel’s return to living—as living as living could be for a vampire cursed with having his soul returned along with the memory of all the terrible things he’d done while he’d been without it—and to Sunnydale, his relationship with Buffy had been tense at best. They loved each other without question, but they had to constantly be aware of what that love would do to them if they allowed it to take over their lives again. “Did you tell Oz you were coming out here?” Buffy asked. Oz and Dingoes Ate My Baby were playing at the Bronze tonight. “Yeah. If he’d been able to get free, he said he’d have come with me. He didn’t want me to go by myself. I told him you guys were going with me and he chilled. He figured as long as I was with you, I’d be fine.” “Maybe not.” A shadowy figure stepped from the honeysuckle where it had been hiding. He was over six feet tall, dressed in a mud-stained Pacific Gas & Electric uniform. His hard hat sat on his head at a rakish angle, but the predatory features beneath it were pure vampire. Three other men, also dressed in torn and ragged PG&E uniforms, fell in behind the first. They grinned, and a flashlight wielded by one of the distant grave cleaners caught them full across the mouth for just an instant, illuminating the massive fangs. Willow stopped abruptly only a few feet away, heart pounding in her chest.No matter how many times youfaced vampires, there was no way to really get used to it.“Buffy, do you remember the power company workers that got trapped in the mudslide a few weeks ago and have been missing ever since?” She pointed. “I think we found them.” “No way, girl,” the lead vampire said. “We found you first. I told my buddies that this old cemetery Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html would be jumping tonight with it being Ching Ming Day and all.” High ridges formed along his cheekbones and forehead, and around his cruelly curved mouth. His eyes burned with catlike intensity. “Figured we’d dig up something to snack on.” “That’s too bad,” Buffy said, stepping up beside Willow with Mr. Pointy hidden at her side. “The kitchen is closed.” Chapter 2 BUFFY TOOK ANOTHER STEP, THIS ONE DIRECTLY IN FRONTof Willow. The move put Buffy more or less within striking distance of the lead vampire. In the distance she could hear families singing, their voices raised enough that the conversation with the vampire went unnoticed. The patch over the lead vampire’s breast pocket readMORT.He glided to his right, stepping away from the fence, his hands held before him. His vampiric speed and strength lent him grace he didn’t have when he’d been alive. Nothing human moved that well. Buffy kept pace with him easily, showing him her open left hand and forearm raised to block. Her Slayer senses flared out, reading her opponents and the terrain she’d been given to fight on. At the moment, the confrontation remained out of sight of the families cleaning the graves of their ancestors. Two of the vampires behind Mort carried fire axes, blades on one side with cruelly curved hooks on the other. The last of the four wielded a sledgehammer. “Got a thing for one-liners, do you?” Mort asked. Buffy shook her head. “Nope. No cool points. Strictly B-movie status. A time-killer till you start to make the biggest mistake you’ve made since crawling back out of the grave.” She sensed Angel moving, knowing he was hustling Willow out of the way. The Slayer could feel him covering her back. “Uh, Buffy,” Willow called. “Busy, Will,” Buffy replied, watching the body language of the four vampires in front of her. “Just wanted to remind you—” Willow started. A gust of wind that pushed against the chill ocean breeze, too slight to be noticed by human senses, washed over Buffy, warning her that a large body flew toward her from the fence. She glanced up, already shifting her weight to the left, away from the approaching body. The vampire sailed at the Slayer from the top of the cemetery fence like a missile. Behind the female vampire’s outstretched hands tipped with sharp nails, her face was a mask of bloodlust. She wore a PG&E uniform as well. In life she’d been maybe thirty years old, maybe somebody’s mom. But in death she was a monster bent on slaking her inhuman thirst. “—that there weresixPG&E employees that were lost in that mudslide,” Willow finished. Buffy swung her right foot back, bringing her body around and squaring up with the vampire hurtling toward her. She knew she couldn’t hope to stand her ground against the female vampire, but she didn’t Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html want to go down and get her arms trapped on impact. The female vampire—THERESA, read the patch— snarled angrily as Buffy ducked under her hands. Unable to completely escape her attacker or bring Mr. Pointyinto play quickly enough, the Slayer gripped the female vampire’s throat with her free hand. Buffy tightened her grip on her opponent’s throat and yanked, dropping to her knees as the female vampire crashed into her. The vampire’s momentum bowled them both over and knocked them to the ground. However, with Buffy holding onto her, the vampire landed on her head with a bonejarring thump that would have killed a normal person. That’s gotta hurt,Buffy thought, rolling from the impact and struggling to stay on top as they slid through the grass. She sensed Mort already in motion, closing in on her from the back. Then that sensation was gone, and Buffy knew Angel had waded into the fight. The female vampire hissed and spat and snarled, thoroughly put out at the turn of events. The singing from the families was loud enough to cover any sounds of the struggle, but it was pretty bizarre fighting a vampire in a cemetery to a soundtrack that Buffy didn’t recognize. Buffy rolled and twisted, avoiding the snapping fangs and the gouging nails. They came to a sudden stop against a cross-shaped tombstone. Hand still gripping the female vampire’s throat, legs scissored around the creature’s waist to pin her, the Slayer avoided the hands that reached for her and brought Mr. Pointy down hard. The wooden stake cracked the vampire’s sternum and plunged through the dead, vampiric heart. “No!” the vampire screamed in pain and disbelief as she gazed down at the stake. “See ya,” Buffy quipped. “Wouldn’t want to be ya.” The vampire turned to dust. Buffy caught a shadow rushing toward her from behind out of the corner of her eye. She moved, throwing herself into a short roll to the left that brought her to her feet.Unfortunately, she dropped Mr. Pointy along the way. One of the vampires with the fire axes brought his weapon down where she’d been only a heartbeat before. The keen ax blade split the hard ground of the old grave with a meaty smack. While the vampire was trying to free his weapon from the ground, the Slayer seized his shirt and ran him headfirst into the cross-shaped tombstone. The vampire’s dead flesh cooked and sizzled, and he snarled pain-filled curses as smoke curled up around his head. Buffy glanced over her shoulder and saw that Angel had engaged Mort and the other two vampires that had confronted them. The remaining vampire was after Willow, who was running for all she was worth. “Bitch!” the vampire snarled, lashing out and catching Buffy on the jaw with the ax handle. Pain exploded inside Buffy’s skull as she fell back. For a moment she thought her jaw was broken. Black spots swirled in her vision, interrupted by the gleam of moonlight on the vampire’s ax as he swung it at her head. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html Buffy turned her head, narrowly avoiding the sharp edge, feeling the impact thrum through the ground. The vampire tore the ax free and raised it. Buffy kicked him in the crotch, driving him back. As she rolled to her feet, Buffy remembered how close the ax had come to her head. She ran a hand through her hair.Not the hair!It was one thing to show up at school with the occasional color-clashing bruise or looking like she hadn’t slept in days, but having her hair whacked off by an ax-slinging vampire would just be too much. Thankfully, it was still in place. Aveda could only fix so much. The vampire came at her again, mouth open and hungry, the ax lifted high above his head. Bouncing lightly on her toes, getting her balance, Buffy sprinted toward the vampire, totally locked into Slayer mode. Nothing else existed for the moment but the kill. She put one foot against the vampire’s chest before he could bring the ax down, then kicked him in the face with her other foot. He brought the ax down even as his head snapped back. Still in motion, Buffy took her foot from his chest and kicked the ax handle as the weapon came down. The ax handle splintered, leaving the vampire holding only a few inches of wood. She brought her hands together on both sides of the ax head, stopping it less than a foot in front of her face. She still managed to pull her knees in and, using the momentum she’d built by running up the vampire’s body, managed to flip and land on her feet facing her opponent. “You’re not human,” the vampire croaked in shocked surprise. “Surprise,” Buffy said. She reversed the piece of the fire ax she held, gripping the steel head in one hand and ramming the splintered end forward. The wooden shards pierced the vampire’s heart and he died a final death. Pulling the axe handle back toward her, Buffy spotted Angel forced up against the cemetery fence. She sprinted through the swirling dust that had been the vampire. She found Mr. Pointy along the way, scooping the stake from the ground without slowing. Angel swung an elbow in a hard, vicious arc that caught one of the vampires in the face with a sharp, bone-breaking crack. One of the vampires took advantage while Angel was off-balance and punched him in the throat. If Angel hadn’t been a vampire himself, the blow would have killed him. Another vampire and thevampire with the remaining fire ax grabbed Angel’s arms, pinning him for the vampire with the sledgehammer. The vampire raised the sledgehammer as Angel struggled to get free. Before she reached Angel’s side, Buffy saw the vampire chasing Willow suddenly catch her and drag her down, clapping a hand over her mouth to cut off any screams she might make. Who to save? That was a really big thing that a Watcher never trained a Slayer on. Not that the Watchers Council was exactly supervising the training Buffy was getting these days. “Angel!” Buffy cried. She broke her stride, going into a baseball pitcher stretch, bringing the handle far behind her head. She let her momentum carry her forward in a short crow-hop, targeting the vampire with the fire ax because his back was presented most clearly to her. She rocked forward on her left foot and brought her right hand straight over her shoulder, releasing the handle at eye level, and dragging her