Faith The Series
folder
BtVS AU/AR › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
17
Views:
3,157
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
6
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
17
Views:
3,157
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
6
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or any of its characters. . Nor do I intend to make any profit from this story.
Faith The Series: Prequel (3/4)
Faith The Series: Prequel (3/4)
The Pentagon, November ‘96
“Dr. Walsh, your numerous areas of expertise are well-documented,” the middle of the trio of generals that made up the over-sight panel looked down at his notes, “degrees in psychology, biology, anatomy, behaviour modification, and cybernetics.” The portly, balding soldier smiled thinly. “Your credentials to run your proposed program are unquestioned.”
“Thank you, sir,” Walsh replied, hiding her contempt for her intellectual inferiors behind a smile.
“However,” the tall, burly man sat at the right of the panel, “we’re a little puzzled for your choice of Sunnydale as the base for your Initiative?”
“Yes,” Walsh nodded. “The city has two advantages to it. One, its out of the way, and has no major press outlets – written, radio, or tv. However, most importantly it seems to be a magnet for demonic activity, apparently having a ratio of demonic occurrences far in excess of what normally would be found in a city of its size.”
“What’s the reason for this increased ratio?” queried the left of the three generals.
“That’s one of the many things I intend to discover,” Walsh replied
Walsh was forced to wait more or less patiently as the trio of mental midgets discussed her proposal between themselves. Finally their leader nodded. “Very well Dr. Walsh, please put together a proposal regarding equipment, funding, and personnel in time for our next meeting in six months time. If you satisfy us at that time, we’ll begin putting your plan into operation.”
* ` * *
Christmas ‘96
“May I come in?”
Faith looked up from under her sheets at the knocking on her door, eyes suspicious. She’d been living with the Watcher for five months now and to be honest it was a pretty sweet deal, the guy gave her money for stuff, and in return all she had to do was train, study, and be in by a certain hour. But maybe today was the day he wanted more. “What do ya want?”
“Well it’s Christmas morning,” the Englishman cautiously replied. “Don’t you want your presents?”
Presents? Faith’s head furrowed as she threw off her sheets and sat on the side of her bed. All her life she’d never had Christmas presents, or any kind of presents, her mom had always more important things to spend her money on – drink, drugs, and cigs mostly. “Um,” she licked her lips, “come in I guess.”
The Englishman strode in, Faith’s eyes widening at the colourfully-wrapped parcels stacked in the Watcher’s arms. “Huh,” Faith shrugged, for once self-conscious, “I didn’t get you anythin’.”
“Quite alright dear,” Giles put the parcels on the bed beside her, “it’s a parent’s joyful responsibility to provide for their child not vice versa.”
Parent? Faith stared at the Englishman, did he really think of her in that way? She’d never had anyone want to be her parent before.
Completely baffled by this turn of events, Faith hid her confusion by turning to her parcels and ripping open the top parcel. “One of those denim wife-beaters you like so much,” Giles barely managed to keep the sniff out of his voice.
”Yeah, thanks,” Faith tore at the next parcel, grinning slightly at the games console sat there. “A playstation, wicked!”
Giles smiled slightly at her reaction. “I’m given to believe everyone has one. I got you a racing, a flying, and a fighting game to go with it.”
”Thanks,” Faith nodded at the Englishman, more and more confused. The next parcel was a selection of half a dozen graphic novels.
“I know you’re not one for reading,” Giles stuck his hands in his pockets, suddenly discomforted, “but I thought you might enjoy those. They’re colourful if nothing else.”
”Yeah,” Faith nodded, “I used to read the guys’ comics in the homes. Thanks.” Faith tore into the next present to find a crucifix on a chain.
“If you’re ever called, it might cause a vampire to hesitate,” the Watcher commented, his eyes grave. ”And here’s your last present,” the middle-aged man passed her a thin envelope.
Faith couldn’t help but smirk when she tore it open. “Two tickets to Megadeath in April, cool!”
“Yes, I’m aware of your admiration for that band,” Giles pulled out another two parcels.
”I thought ya said that I’d had my last present?” Faith raised a speculative eyebrow.
“Well you have,” Giles shrugged, a crimson rising in his cheeks. “However my father was determined that his grand-daughter should not go without.”
“Grand-daughter?” Faith gulped as she took the two parcels. It sounded like they were almost serious about her, the street kid, being part of their snooty, upper-class family. Faith tore the first parcel open.
“Oh good lord,” Giles groaned at the snakeskin cowboy boots. “This is Boston, not 1840s Texas, father,” the Englishman muttered. “Stereotypes?”
”They’re fuckin’ cool!” Faith ignored her Watcher’s mumblings to crow, with her leather jacket they’d look the total bomb. She eagerly tore the second parcel to find a gleaming Ninja-to, three throwing stars, and a nunchaku. “These are wow,” Faith stared at the weapons, unable to believe that someone she’d never even met would give her such an expensive present.
“My father’s Slayer in the late 50s was Japanese, since then he’s been obsessed with Japanese weaponry.” The Englishman took what seemed to be a nervous breath before continuing. I’ve got a tree downstairs, an artificial one, but I’ve also got box of decorations for it. Unfortunately with cooking the dinner, I won’t be able to decorate it.” The Watcher paused, a pleading look in his eyes. “I don’t suppose you’d do it for me after you’ve washed?”
Decorating wasn’t really her, but she figured she should throw the Englishman a bone for all her presents. “Yeah,” Faith nodded, “I guess I can do that.”
“Excellent!” Giles beamed before backing out of the room.
* * *
March ‘97
Pike licked his lips as he looked at the pretty brunette sat on the stool by the café’s counter. Gathering his courage, he strode over and stood behind her. “Hey you’re Faith aren’t you?”
The brunette turned to face him, a shit-eating smirk on her face. “So ya know my name, what else ya’d like to know about me?”
Pike blinked, off-put by the girl’s brashness. She had none of the shy coyness he was used to. “Just what you’re doing Friday night?”
The budding beauty looked him over, tongue running over her curved lips as she inspected him. “Depends what ya have in mind?”
“I thought we could go to the movies,” Pike suggested.
“Just as long ya weren’t bankin’ on me being the sorta gal that gives it up for a bucket of popcorn?”
Pike gulped at the girl’s suggestiveness. He was three years her senior, but her saucy confidence was off-putting to say the least. “I wouldn’t think of it.”
“Wicked,” the girl grinned at him. “Meet ya at eight?”
“That works for me,” Pike replied.
”Five by five,” Faith looked over the counter. “He’s paying,” the brunette rose and strutted out.
* * *
“It was good tonight,” Pike commented as they stopped on the porch of Faith’s house.
“Yeah, wicked film,” Faith smirked up at him.
“That’s not what I meant,” Pike ran his hand down the brunette’s face. “I was thinking-.”
His companion groaned as the door swung open to reveal a thunderous-looking man. “Faith!” the man had an English accent. “Who is this?”
“Pike,” the brunette pouted. “My boy-friend.”
”Like bloody hell he is.” Pike shrivelled inwardly at the older man’s volcanic glare. “And how old are you?” Pike’s mouth opened. “Eighteen, nineteen? Do you know how old she is?”
The girl shot the old man a pained look. “G-.”
“Go before I forget myself and kick your arse all the way down the street!” the foreigner snapped.
“Okay, okay,” Pike threw his hands into the air and backed off. “Faith, see you!”
* * *
”No you will not!” Giles snapped, eyes hard.
“What the hell was that about?” Faith snapped, her own eyes flashing as she glared up at the Watcher.
”Faith,” the Watcher’s eyes softened as he looked towards her. “You’re a wonderful young woman, far too good for that scruffy bugger. You can do much better, you’re far too special for that boy.”
Faith laughed. “Hate to break it to ya G, but what he wants ain’t special at all.”
“Well maybe it should be,” Giles retorted angrily before taking a slow breath. “Even if you don’t realise it you’re an exceptional young woman with a world of potential. No pun unintended.” The Watcher shook his head. “You’re too good for that feckless lout.”
“Yeah?” Faith scowled at the Englishman. Why did he say shit like that, ‘bout her being special? Deciding it must be a way of sugar-controlling his control over her, she continued. “Ya might have some papers that say ya’re my guardian and shit, but ya ain’t my dad and ya don’t tell me what to do!”
“Faith!” Giles snapped as she spun away from him and strode off. “Come back here right now!”
”Ya and yar stinkin’ Council don’t own me!” she screamed as she strode off into the darkness.
* * *
The bar was really bangin’ by the time she reached it, its dank walls shaking to heavy metal, the patrons a mixture of leather-clad moshers and denim-wearing head-bangers. Faith stalked through the grinding crowd to push her way into a position at the bar. “Mine’s a Jack Daniels.”
The bartender, a balding man with popeye forearms and a shiny bald head, spun to face her. “Faith!” the man, a guy who’d lived in the same tenement as her and her mom and had always looked out for her, beamed. “As I live and breathe! How long’s it been, a year?”
“Maybe a little more,” Faith grinned. “How ‘bout that Daniels?”
“You might drink in other bars,” her friend shook his head as he passed her a bottle over the dirty bar, “in mine you’re on coke.”
Faith sighed as she took the proffered coke. “Where you been?”
Faith shrugged. “This English guy adopted me out of the home.”
“You look well on it,” her companion commented. “You never had such clean clothes when you were living with Martha.”
Faith shrugged. “He’s okay. I blew him off tonight ‘cause he was bitchin’ ‘bout my boy-friend.”
“Maybe you should go home.” Faith’s eyes narrowed. “It’s clear this guy whoever this guy is he cares about you,” Paul stared steadily at her, even as her mouth opened. “Has he hit or molested you? Does he feed you? Do you feel safe with him?”
Faith scowled before spinning away from the bar. “I didn’t come here for a fuckin’ lecture!”
The night’s cool air was refreshing after the club’s sweltering confines but failed to soothe her raging temper. Instead she stormed through Boston rainy streets. Men, they all tried to fuckin’ own you in one way or another.
Faith suddenly sensed something blurred and indistinct in the shadows behind him. She grinned fiercely as she drew her switchblade, just let the fucker try-.
“Hello little girl.” Faith gasped as a burly man lunged out of the shadows in front of her, his upward-swinging backhanded slap catching her in the mouth and knocking her into the wall, switchblade clattering uselessly to the garbage-strewn ground. Blood dripping from her bottom lip and head ringing, Faith nevertheless had enough left to attempt a kick that her assailant took on his thigh without apparently noticing. “Such a pretty little thing,” Faith gurgled when her attacker grabbed her around the throat and lifted her from her feet. “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun together.”
Time froze when the man’s eyes flashed yellow and teeth elongated. A vampire, she was dead. Faith punched out desperately, her knuckles smashing into the demon’s nose. Her eyes widened when the demon’s nose shattered and he staggered backwards, Faith dropped to the ground.
Eyes incredulous, the demon leapt at her, leading with a straight right. Faith slid under the punch, grabbing her attacker’s wrist as she did so. Faith twisted and pushed, flinging the vampire past her and face-first into the wall. Faith spun to face her attacker, foot swinging seamlessly up to crash into the demon’s lower back.
The vampire spun into a backfist that Faith ducked under before smashing a pencil into his chest. “Yes!” Faith punched the air as the demon exploded into ash. “I’m the fuckin’ Slayer!”
* * *
Giles looked up as the sound of the front door opening, relief flooding him. That silly girl, storming out in the middle night, she knew better than most about both the natural and unnatural horrors plaguing the night. Rising, he hurried out into the hallway to remonstrate with her.
And found the girl bouncing up and down on the spot, an almost giddy look on her face. Which was most unFaith like. “I’m the Slayer!” the girl shouted excitedly. “I’m the fuckin’ Slayer and I killed a vampire!”
Giles rocked back on his feet, the veracity and sincerity of the girl’s announcement undeniable. “Oh no,” he whispered, “no. I never wanted you to be the Slayer.”
“What?” Faith’s elation turned quickly to hurt and then even faster to anger. “Oh?” she snarled, more wounded animal than human. “Not good enough for ya fuckin’ Council?”
“No Faith,” he shook his head, the pain in his chest threatening to crush him. “I only wanted to spare you this-, wanted you to have a full, long life-.”
“I’m gonna be the best Slayer ever!” the brunette snapped. “Ya and yar Council think I’m worthless, just like everyone else! Well you can go to hell!”
* * *
“Devlin didn’t return home last night,” reported his subordinate. “He was tracking a pretty teen when I left him.”
“A girl killed Devlin?” Lothos smiled as he looked around the hushed room. “Devlin was strong, nearly a century old. And yet, a mere girl killed her. The rumours are true. There’s a Watcher in town, and now a Slayer. Find them, find them both.”
The Pentagon, November ‘96
“Dr. Walsh, your numerous areas of expertise are well-documented,” the middle of the trio of generals that made up the over-sight panel looked down at his notes, “degrees in psychology, biology, anatomy, behaviour modification, and cybernetics.” The portly, balding soldier smiled thinly. “Your credentials to run your proposed program are unquestioned.”
“Thank you, sir,” Walsh replied, hiding her contempt for her intellectual inferiors behind a smile.
“However,” the tall, burly man sat at the right of the panel, “we’re a little puzzled for your choice of Sunnydale as the base for your Initiative?”
“Yes,” Walsh nodded. “The city has two advantages to it. One, its out of the way, and has no major press outlets – written, radio, or tv. However, most importantly it seems to be a magnet for demonic activity, apparently having a ratio of demonic occurrences far in excess of what normally would be found in a city of its size.”
“What’s the reason for this increased ratio?” queried the left of the three generals.
“That’s one of the many things I intend to discover,” Walsh replied
Walsh was forced to wait more or less patiently as the trio of mental midgets discussed her proposal between themselves. Finally their leader nodded. “Very well Dr. Walsh, please put together a proposal regarding equipment, funding, and personnel in time for our next meeting in six months time. If you satisfy us at that time, we’ll begin putting your plan into operation.”
* ` * *
Christmas ‘96
“May I come in?”
Faith looked up from under her sheets at the knocking on her door, eyes suspicious. She’d been living with the Watcher for five months now and to be honest it was a pretty sweet deal, the guy gave her money for stuff, and in return all she had to do was train, study, and be in by a certain hour. But maybe today was the day he wanted more. “What do ya want?”
“Well it’s Christmas morning,” the Englishman cautiously replied. “Don’t you want your presents?”
Presents? Faith’s head furrowed as she threw off her sheets and sat on the side of her bed. All her life she’d never had Christmas presents, or any kind of presents, her mom had always more important things to spend her money on – drink, drugs, and cigs mostly. “Um,” she licked her lips, “come in I guess.”
The Englishman strode in, Faith’s eyes widening at the colourfully-wrapped parcels stacked in the Watcher’s arms. “Huh,” Faith shrugged, for once self-conscious, “I didn’t get you anythin’.”
“Quite alright dear,” Giles put the parcels on the bed beside her, “it’s a parent’s joyful responsibility to provide for their child not vice versa.”
Parent? Faith stared at the Englishman, did he really think of her in that way? She’d never had anyone want to be her parent before.
Completely baffled by this turn of events, Faith hid her confusion by turning to her parcels and ripping open the top parcel. “One of those denim wife-beaters you like so much,” Giles barely managed to keep the sniff out of his voice.
”Yeah, thanks,” Faith tore at the next parcel, grinning slightly at the games console sat there. “A playstation, wicked!”
Giles smiled slightly at her reaction. “I’m given to believe everyone has one. I got you a racing, a flying, and a fighting game to go with it.”
”Thanks,” Faith nodded at the Englishman, more and more confused. The next parcel was a selection of half a dozen graphic novels.
“I know you’re not one for reading,” Giles stuck his hands in his pockets, suddenly discomforted, “but I thought you might enjoy those. They’re colourful if nothing else.”
”Yeah,” Faith nodded, “I used to read the guys’ comics in the homes. Thanks.” Faith tore into the next present to find a crucifix on a chain.
“If you’re ever called, it might cause a vampire to hesitate,” the Watcher commented, his eyes grave. ”And here’s your last present,” the middle-aged man passed her a thin envelope.
Faith couldn’t help but smirk when she tore it open. “Two tickets to Megadeath in April, cool!”
“Yes, I’m aware of your admiration for that band,” Giles pulled out another two parcels.
”I thought ya said that I’d had my last present?” Faith raised a speculative eyebrow.
“Well you have,” Giles shrugged, a crimson rising in his cheeks. “However my father was determined that his grand-daughter should not go without.”
“Grand-daughter?” Faith gulped as she took the two parcels. It sounded like they were almost serious about her, the street kid, being part of their snooty, upper-class family. Faith tore the first parcel open.
“Oh good lord,” Giles groaned at the snakeskin cowboy boots. “This is Boston, not 1840s Texas, father,” the Englishman muttered. “Stereotypes?”
”They’re fuckin’ cool!” Faith ignored her Watcher’s mumblings to crow, with her leather jacket they’d look the total bomb. She eagerly tore the second parcel to find a gleaming Ninja-to, three throwing stars, and a nunchaku. “These are wow,” Faith stared at the weapons, unable to believe that someone she’d never even met would give her such an expensive present.
“My father’s Slayer in the late 50s was Japanese, since then he’s been obsessed with Japanese weaponry.” The Englishman took what seemed to be a nervous breath before continuing. I’ve got a tree downstairs, an artificial one, but I’ve also got box of decorations for it. Unfortunately with cooking the dinner, I won’t be able to decorate it.” The Watcher paused, a pleading look in his eyes. “I don’t suppose you’d do it for me after you’ve washed?”
Decorating wasn’t really her, but she figured she should throw the Englishman a bone for all her presents. “Yeah,” Faith nodded, “I guess I can do that.”
“Excellent!” Giles beamed before backing out of the room.
* * *
March ‘97
Pike licked his lips as he looked at the pretty brunette sat on the stool by the café’s counter. Gathering his courage, he strode over and stood behind her. “Hey you’re Faith aren’t you?”
The brunette turned to face him, a shit-eating smirk on her face. “So ya know my name, what else ya’d like to know about me?”
Pike blinked, off-put by the girl’s brashness. She had none of the shy coyness he was used to. “Just what you’re doing Friday night?”
The budding beauty looked him over, tongue running over her curved lips as she inspected him. “Depends what ya have in mind?”
“I thought we could go to the movies,” Pike suggested.
“Just as long ya weren’t bankin’ on me being the sorta gal that gives it up for a bucket of popcorn?”
Pike gulped at the girl’s suggestiveness. He was three years her senior, but her saucy confidence was off-putting to say the least. “I wouldn’t think of it.”
“Wicked,” the girl grinned at him. “Meet ya at eight?”
“That works for me,” Pike replied.
”Five by five,” Faith looked over the counter. “He’s paying,” the brunette rose and strutted out.
* * *
“It was good tonight,” Pike commented as they stopped on the porch of Faith’s house.
“Yeah, wicked film,” Faith smirked up at him.
“That’s not what I meant,” Pike ran his hand down the brunette’s face. “I was thinking-.”
His companion groaned as the door swung open to reveal a thunderous-looking man. “Faith!” the man had an English accent. “Who is this?”
“Pike,” the brunette pouted. “My boy-friend.”
”Like bloody hell he is.” Pike shrivelled inwardly at the older man’s volcanic glare. “And how old are you?” Pike’s mouth opened. “Eighteen, nineteen? Do you know how old she is?”
The girl shot the old man a pained look. “G-.”
“Go before I forget myself and kick your arse all the way down the street!” the foreigner snapped.
“Okay, okay,” Pike threw his hands into the air and backed off. “Faith, see you!”
* * *
”No you will not!” Giles snapped, eyes hard.
“What the hell was that about?” Faith snapped, her own eyes flashing as she glared up at the Watcher.
”Faith,” the Watcher’s eyes softened as he looked towards her. “You’re a wonderful young woman, far too good for that scruffy bugger. You can do much better, you’re far too special for that boy.”
Faith laughed. “Hate to break it to ya G, but what he wants ain’t special at all.”
“Well maybe it should be,” Giles retorted angrily before taking a slow breath. “Even if you don’t realise it you’re an exceptional young woman with a world of potential. No pun unintended.” The Watcher shook his head. “You’re too good for that feckless lout.”
“Yeah?” Faith scowled at the Englishman. Why did he say shit like that, ‘bout her being special? Deciding it must be a way of sugar-controlling his control over her, she continued. “Ya might have some papers that say ya’re my guardian and shit, but ya ain’t my dad and ya don’t tell me what to do!”
“Faith!” Giles snapped as she spun away from him and strode off. “Come back here right now!”
”Ya and yar stinkin’ Council don’t own me!” she screamed as she strode off into the darkness.
* * *
The bar was really bangin’ by the time she reached it, its dank walls shaking to heavy metal, the patrons a mixture of leather-clad moshers and denim-wearing head-bangers. Faith stalked through the grinding crowd to push her way into a position at the bar. “Mine’s a Jack Daniels.”
The bartender, a balding man with popeye forearms and a shiny bald head, spun to face her. “Faith!” the man, a guy who’d lived in the same tenement as her and her mom and had always looked out for her, beamed. “As I live and breathe! How long’s it been, a year?”
“Maybe a little more,” Faith grinned. “How ‘bout that Daniels?”
“You might drink in other bars,” her friend shook his head as he passed her a bottle over the dirty bar, “in mine you’re on coke.”
Faith sighed as she took the proffered coke. “Where you been?”
Faith shrugged. “This English guy adopted me out of the home.”
“You look well on it,” her companion commented. “You never had such clean clothes when you were living with Martha.”
Faith shrugged. “He’s okay. I blew him off tonight ‘cause he was bitchin’ ‘bout my boy-friend.”
“Maybe you should go home.” Faith’s eyes narrowed. “It’s clear this guy whoever this guy is he cares about you,” Paul stared steadily at her, even as her mouth opened. “Has he hit or molested you? Does he feed you? Do you feel safe with him?”
Faith scowled before spinning away from the bar. “I didn’t come here for a fuckin’ lecture!”
The night’s cool air was refreshing after the club’s sweltering confines but failed to soothe her raging temper. Instead she stormed through Boston rainy streets. Men, they all tried to fuckin’ own you in one way or another.
Faith suddenly sensed something blurred and indistinct in the shadows behind him. She grinned fiercely as she drew her switchblade, just let the fucker try-.
“Hello little girl.” Faith gasped as a burly man lunged out of the shadows in front of her, his upward-swinging backhanded slap catching her in the mouth and knocking her into the wall, switchblade clattering uselessly to the garbage-strewn ground. Blood dripping from her bottom lip and head ringing, Faith nevertheless had enough left to attempt a kick that her assailant took on his thigh without apparently noticing. “Such a pretty little thing,” Faith gurgled when her attacker grabbed her around the throat and lifted her from her feet. “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun together.”
Time froze when the man’s eyes flashed yellow and teeth elongated. A vampire, she was dead. Faith punched out desperately, her knuckles smashing into the demon’s nose. Her eyes widened when the demon’s nose shattered and he staggered backwards, Faith dropped to the ground.
Eyes incredulous, the demon leapt at her, leading with a straight right. Faith slid under the punch, grabbing her attacker’s wrist as she did so. Faith twisted and pushed, flinging the vampire past her and face-first into the wall. Faith spun to face her attacker, foot swinging seamlessly up to crash into the demon’s lower back.
The vampire spun into a backfist that Faith ducked under before smashing a pencil into his chest. “Yes!” Faith punched the air as the demon exploded into ash. “I’m the fuckin’ Slayer!”
* * *
Giles looked up as the sound of the front door opening, relief flooding him. That silly girl, storming out in the middle night, she knew better than most about both the natural and unnatural horrors plaguing the night. Rising, he hurried out into the hallway to remonstrate with her.
And found the girl bouncing up and down on the spot, an almost giddy look on her face. Which was most unFaith like. “I’m the Slayer!” the girl shouted excitedly. “I’m the fuckin’ Slayer and I killed a vampire!”
Giles rocked back on his feet, the veracity and sincerity of the girl’s announcement undeniable. “Oh no,” he whispered, “no. I never wanted you to be the Slayer.”
“What?” Faith’s elation turned quickly to hurt and then even faster to anger. “Oh?” she snarled, more wounded animal than human. “Not good enough for ya fuckin’ Council?”
“No Faith,” he shook his head, the pain in his chest threatening to crush him. “I only wanted to spare you this-, wanted you to have a full, long life-.”
“I’m gonna be the best Slayer ever!” the brunette snapped. “Ya and yar Council think I’m worthless, just like everyone else! Well you can go to hell!”
* * *
“Devlin didn’t return home last night,” reported his subordinate. “He was tracking a pretty teen when I left him.”
“A girl killed Devlin?” Lothos smiled as he looked around the hushed room. “Devlin was strong, nearly a century old. And yet, a mere girl killed her. The rumours are true. There’s a Watcher in town, and now a Slayer. Find them, find them both.”