The roar echoed around the Estate, an unearthly, guttural sound from a thousand demonic voices. The defenders behind the second barricade glanced nervously at one another, shuffling their feet and tightening their grips on their rifles.

"S.O.P, people!" Yelled Captain West. "It’s a well-known and deliberate tactic! They want us scared. Like a bit of noise could do that!"

‘Well known and deliberate tactic’, thought Charles, gazing towards the first barricade. Yes…remember the Alamo. Didn’t they get a song played at them though? Silly what comes into your mind when…when what? When you’re under stress? ‘Stress’ hardly covers this situation. Maybe this was the wrong move…maybe we should have packed up and left…maybe… No. Stop it. It’s too late for second thoughts. We’re committed now.

Charles put down his rifle and wiped his hands on his trousers. He stared around, nodding his head towards the house as he caught the eyes of Captain West. The Captain frowned and glanced up at the roof. The four trainees were gathered together in a huddle near the guard-rail and Captain West stood and raised his hands to them in a "wait" gesture.

James leaned over the rail and gave a quick thumbs up in response.

"I think they’re moving," said Rachel as the roar finally died out, leaving an almost eerie silence behind.

Shielding his eyes, James stared at the army, who had started to advance slowly, increasing their pace as they neared the first barricade. They pounded along, causing the ground to shake, the smaller demons darting between the legs of the larger ones. Uncaring and with no hesitation they flung themselves onto the barricade. Some of the more fleet ones scuttled over quickly whilst the main body of the army climbed slowly and laboriously.

Captain West unhooked his radio and waited until the first wave of the army had reached the top of the barricade and were starting to clamber down the other side before he pressed the send button.

"Now," he said calmly and clearly, ducking down behind the barricade. "Everybody down!"

Charles froze, unable to move, unable to tear his gaze away from the demons on the first barricade. Suddenly, all the breath seemed to go out of him and, to Charles, it felt like he had been thumped in the stomach. Everything went quiet; the sudden silence as shocking as the air suddenly returning in a rushing gale. The intense, brilliant whiteness of the barricade exploding into flame shook Charles from his brief stupor and he dropped to the ground as a wall of noise hit him. It shouldn’t sound like this, he thought, covering his ears. I expected a large crack…not this dull thud that’s so loud it’s bloody painful. Slowly, Charles became aware of movement around him as the defenders steadily got to their feet and he tentatively took his hands away from his ears. Silence. Total silence. Bloody hell…I’m deaf, he thought with a touch of panic, tugging on his earlobes in the hope it would clear. A hand grabbed his collar, hauling him to his feet and Charles stared in total bewilderment at Captain West who gesticulated towards the barricade. He could see the Captain’s mouth opening and closing rapidly and, for a brief moment, Charles found satisfaction at not being able to hear what was being shouted at him.

"I can’t hear anything!" Charles yelled when he judged that the Captain had stopped to draw breath.

Captain West grabbed his collar and mouthed slowly and deliberately: "You…do…not…need…to…hear."

Right. I suppose not, thought Charles with resignation, picking up his gun and moving back to the barricade. He sucked in a breath at the sight that met his startled eyes. The first barricade was well and truly aflame yet demons still clambered over or pushed their way through as though the fire didn’t exist. It did have SOME effect, thought Charles, spying clumps of charred bodies, but not a huge amount. Regrouping in front of the flaming barrier, the demon army was now making steady progress across the lawn. As Charles watched, he could see brief flashes in the air followed by large sections of lawn exploding upwards, usually accompanied by more than a few demons. Must be those anti-tank thingies, he thought as the accountant within him winced at the possible expense of the cleanup operation. As he took in the destruction, Charles felt his anger growing. How dare they? How dare they do this? This is a fantastic place…and you bastards are NOT having it! With a yell, Charles brought his gun up and fired, spraying bullets wildly into the demon army. Eat metal…or lead…or whatever the fuck that saying is!

Ethan’s eyes snapped open as the noise of the explosion rumbled around them. He sat up slightly and stared around, seeing nothing but walls, tarmac and trees. Jayne caught the movement out of the corner of her eye and twisted in her seat. She reached out and gently placed a hand on Ethan’s knee.

"It’s okay. It’s just…boys and their toys." She smiled weakly.

"Sounds like…" Ethan paused, aware of his feeble and shaky voice. He cleared his throat and then decided to whisper instead. "Sounds like a war out there."

"It is…but don’t worry, we’re safe here." Jayne forced a bright smile and patted his knee reassuringly. "Tell you what…why don’t I turn the radio on? Nothing like a bit of music to…um…cheer things up."

"You should…you should have brought your knitting," replied Ethan, his eyes closing once more. Jayne bit her lip and, with a sigh, she turned and fiddled with the radio.

Safe? We’re not safe anywhere, thought Ethan, wincing as a worryingly familiar song blasted out of the speakers behind him. Haven’t I been through enough? Do I have to be tortured by listening to Barry bloody Manilow? Ethan sighed and then frowned. There’s something else going on…something I can’t quite make out. Wait a minute…someone is using magic…I can feel it. Ethan tried to block out the music, concentrating instead on the tingling sensation running through him. It’s someone fairly close. No…more than a few someones. The coven and…Rupert. Ethan grinned suddenly. It’s a waste of time, old friend, the coven can’t help. It doesn’t matter how many people you surround yourself with because, in the end, it comes back to just you and me. That’s what it’s always been about. Legatus…the First…the coven…the Council…none of it matters…not really. Just you wait…I’ll show you what REAL power is. Soon it will be your turn to burn.

Not for the first time, Quentin found himself struggling against circumstances out of his control. Images flooded his mind and he wished he could turn away or close his eyes. There was an inevitability, a finality, about the attack on Clunewic and Quentin could envision no outcome other than the complete decimation of all those struggling valiantly in the Councils defence. The barricade exploding had given him hope but witnessing the demon army treating it as casually as a pinprick was disheartening to say the least.

"I see the Council is as ineffective as ever," Legatus’ calm, even tones were a surreal counterpoint to the destruction Quentin was watching. "Not an original thought anywhere…even the explosives were obvious. Honestly, gentlemen…what a pathetic performance. I had hoped your colleagues would have provided much more entertainment but alas it’s not to be. Such a shame. Of course, there IS a silver lining. You’ll be able to witness their deaths that much sooner. And I have one final surprise left…a surprise that many of you will no doubt enjoy. Watch, gentlemen…watch and learn."

James sighed and lowered his rifle.

"This is pointless," he yelled, trying to make himself heard above the roars, explosions and rifle fire. "I KNOW I’m hitting them but it’s having no effect."

"The bullets seem to bounce off most of them," agreed Rachel, wincing as she flexed her fingers. "Maybe we should…concentrate our fire?"

James frowned and stared at the multitude of demons advancing on the second barricade.

"How about that one," he said, pointing. "The big one in front with the horns."

Rachel nodded and, as James turned and explained their strategy to Alan and Scott, she put her rifle down and wiped her hands on her trousers. Very ladylike, she thought briefly.

"Okay," yelled James. "Ready?"

With a sigh, Rachel picked up her rifle, flexing her fingers again before getting back into position.

"Aim for the head," continued James. "FIRE!"

The four rifles fired as one and James’ enthusiasm quickly turned to shock as the horned demon merely stopped and stared directly up at them. It raised its arm and pointed at the four figures huddled close together on the roof.

"I think we made it angry," yelled Alan.

"No shit?" James lowered his rifle. "What the hell does it take to stop these things?"

"Um…" Scott nudged James, indicating behind them. "Maybe something like THAT."

James turned, his mouth dropping open in surprise.

"Bloody hell," he said, staring at the golden glow that hovered over the kneeling figures in the centre of the roof.

"I suppose this is what Mr Giles meant by magic," said Scott. "I wonder what it does?"

"I don’t…" James broke off as a sudden series of explosions from the side of the house caused Rachel to shrink against him.

"Whatever it does," said Alan, "they’d better be quick about it."

It felt alive. A humming, pulsing resonance within, one that grew in strength second by second. Giles could feel his blood surging through his veins, feel his heart rate steadily increase as the magic called upon more and more of his physical energy. He centred himself, searching for the still point within, preparing himself for what was to come. Mentally, he felt charged, alive and exhilarated although physically he knew he was getting weaker. All magic is a balance, he thought, if you take, you must give. You merely have to decide whether the price is worth paying. I thought the price too high…but it feels SO good. How could I have denied myself this for so long?

Fear and regret, mainly, came the reply. You were right to show caution then…and perhaps you need to be cautious now.

Giles raised his head and opened his eyes. Staring briefly around the circle, he said softly:

"Now."

It crept up on him slowly, a gradual loosening of pressure, soft noises penetrating the silence. The return of his hearing was causing distractions that Charles felt he could very happily live without. A sudden noise, the sound of gunfire, of an explosion and his heart leapt in his chest, his grip tightening painfully on his rifle. Why can’t it come back all at once instead of bit by bit like this? I just get used to the silence and then suddenly "BANG"…damn near gives me a bloody heart attack. It would be ironic, I suppose. Surrounded by all this and I die of a heart attack instead. At least that would be normal…not like the rest of this. It’s base, violent, abhorrent and…utterly useless. We’re having no effect - might as well try using a peashooter on an elephant. The anger Charles previously felt had given way to glum resignation. He had watched the army get closer and closer, the defenders best efforts resulting in only minimal casualties amongst the demons. It had been depressing and demoralising, mixed with more than a little fear. It’s only a matter of time, thought Charles. We’re all just going through the motions now. We KNOW how this will end and all we’re waiting for is the signal to retreat. Or are we? Charles stared in amazement as the army’s advance slowed dramatically. The larger demons lumbered to a gradual halt whilst the smaller ones almost skidded on the grass in their desperation to stop. Realising that their attention was focussed behind him, Charles risked a quick glance over his shoulder, taking a sharp breath at the sight that met his disbelieving eyes. A golden wave of light was flowing from the roof of the house, making steady progress down towards the ground. It was strangely translucent, the brickwork and windows clearly visible behind it. It’s quite beautiful, thought Charles, and almost hypnotic in intensity. I want to keep looking at it, I want to feel it touch me. With an effort, he dragged his gaze away, turning back to face the army and taking deep breaths to steady himself. They’re looking confused, he thought, watching the demons glancing at each other and shuffling uncomfortably, like…like they’re waiting to be told what to do…waiting for orders.

"THIS is what Mr Giles meant?" Captain West stood up and regarded the wave with deep suspicion.

"Yes!" Charles yelled, getting to his feet and shouldering his rifle. "Now’s our chance. It won’t hurt us."

"How can you be sure of that?"

"I’m not," Charles grinned widely, "but I AM sure of Mr Giles. It’s a question of trust, Captain."

Charles didn’t wait for a reply. He broke into a run and headed straight for the house. God, I hope I’m right, he thought, or this could be very embarrassing. He ignored his aching and stiff muscles, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the golden wave ahead of him. Here goes nothing, he thought, taking a deep breath and plunging into the light. His skin tingled as though he was receiving a multitude of tiny electric shocks and he could have sworn that every hair on his body momentarily stood on end. How…odd, he thought, emerging from the wave and stopping in front of the house. I expected something a bit more dramatic. That was a tad anti-climactic...but what the hell…I’m alive. He stared out through the wave and raised a hand, smiling at Captain West’s sudden grin.

"Well?" Yelled the Captain, turning to face the defenders. "What are you waiting for? MOVE!"

Daniel opened his eyes, a frown crossing his face. I don’t think this was supposed to happen, he thought. I wonder what his reaction will be? He turned his head to see Legatus standing a few feet away, his back towards him.

"Um…they’ve stopped moving, my Lord," said Daniel quietly, trying not to flinch as Legatus swung around, a look of twisted fury on his face.

"I KNOW THAT!" Legatus started pacing up and down, flinging his arms wide. "It’s THIS place! They’ve spent too much time here. They’ve grown soft, weak and fat…unable to think for themselves any more."

Daniel watched with growing amusement as Legatus struggled to contain his anger. Emotion, thought Daniel, that’s what it is. I don’t think he’s experienced any kind of strong emotion for quite some time. He’s out of practice…he can’t remember how to contain it or express himself. After all this, Achilles DOES have his heel.

"Well, go on!" Screamed Legatus. "Get after them, you…you…you…"

"Cretins?" Said Daniel with a smile. I’m going to die anyway. I may as well see how far I can push him.

"What?" Legatus fixed him with a piercing glare but Daniel appeared to take little notice. His smile merely widened.

"Cretins," replied Daniel. "It’s a human word. It rather sums up your army."

"You find this funny? You think this is a game?"

"Isn’t it?" Gasped Daniel. "I thought you didn’t care whether you won or lost."

"How can I obtain the information I need if those…cretins…don’t engage the Council? Those in the other realm NEED to see death. They need to see how futile it is to oppose the First. THIS is not enough." Legatus paused and moved his hand from Daniel’s jaw. He straightened up and took a deep breath. "Turn your attention to the roof, Daniel. It’s time Rupert Giles was taught a lesson."

Ethan Rayne had almost reached the end of his tether. As if the explosions, gunfire and Barry Manilow music weren’t enough, he was now enduring the teeth-gritting sound of Jayne happily singing along to the music. For God’s sake, woman, thought Ethan in despair, at least hit the right note occasionally. As my mother would say ‘you’re three scats behind and can’t carry a tune in a bucket’. Ethan closed his eyes and grimaced as Jayne enthusiastically and rather loudly warbled the finale to "Even Now". How can she do that? How can she ignore everything that’s happening and simply…sing? I know I used to be able to shut out external influences when casting but this is somewhat different.

"I can’t take much more of this," sighed Ethan softly, not noticing Legatus appear beside him.

"You don’t have to," said Legatus coldly and Ethan opened his eyes and stared at him.

"It’s time?"

"Yes," replied Legatus. "The final test, Mr Rayne. Prove to me that you are worthy."

"You still haven’t told me exactly what you want me to do."

"Ahhhh so many ways to kill a human…and I have to pick just the one. Hardly fair, is it?" Legatus smiled briefly. "That was a rhetorical question, Mr Rayne…you are not required to answer."

"Kill?" Ethan looked surprised. "You said I was to betray him…hand him over…not kill him."

"You WILL be handing him over, Mr Rayne." Legatus stared at Ethan. "I want to taste his soul…it’s said that the soul of a Watcher is like nectar. That is MY reward for this. Yours is the power for which you are so desperate…and of course, you will be fully healed. It will be as though the Initiative had never existed."

"Then I have no choice."

"No, Mr Rayne. No choice at all." Legatus held out his hand. "Take my hand…accept the conditions and the benefits."

"And if I don’t?" Ethan stared at Legatus’ outstretched hand.

"If you don’t," Legatus grinned suddenly, "then there will be no healing, no power. Your condition will worsen but you won’t die. I won’t let you. You’ll exist in agonising pain for years. Nobody will be able to help you…they’ll shut you away…somewhere remote so they don’t have to hear your screams. Of course, eventually you won’t be ABLE to scream. Then I will let you die. And that, Mr Rayne, that is when your trouble REALLY starts. We already own your soul…just think of the torment we can put you through."

Ethan swallowed and then slowly reached out; placing his hand on Legatus’ outstretched palm. Ethan stared at their joined hands. It’s like he said…I have no choice.

"Look at me, Mr Rayne." Legatus’ voice had changed from amused to commanding and Ethan automatically raised his head. "For the time being I will allow you limited access. It will be enough to heal you…temporarily anyway…and enough to complete your task. The rest is yours when you kill Rupert Giles. Do you understand?"

"How should I…kill him?" Ethan asked, distractedly, smiling slightly as he felt the familiar tingle of dark energy running through him. He could feel his body responding, his strength returning, his mind sharpening and he grinned with delight. God, it’s delicious…like a river of dark chocolate running through my veins.

"I’ve been thinking about that," replied Legatus, ignoring the look of ecstasy on Ethan’s face, "and I’ve decided that you should overload him. Rupert Giles is focussing a delicate balance of energy. You will be the unstable element. Give him more than he can take…he should burn for what he did to you. Don’t you agree?"

"Yes…yes…burn." Ethan’s eyes shone with delight and Legatus smirked and snatched his hand away.

"That’s enough I think."

"No…more…give me more." The desperation in Ethan’s voice caused Legatus to grin.

"You’ll get the rest when Rupert Giles is dead. Now go and complete your task. The sooner he dies, the sooner you will have your power."

It was less an order and more a compulsion; a need to advance upon the humans and carry out the will of the First. The Demon army slowly began to move forward again, thankful, proud and privileged to have been chosen. Their very natures were aligned with darkness and Chaos and they submitted willingly to the demands placed upon them. It was, to their twisted and corrupt minds, expected of them, a humble obsequience to THEIR God. A hard, brutal, unforgiving God but their God nonetheless. It would soon be time for him to return; they could feel it in their blood, a surging wave of hope and anticipation. There would be no more hiding in shadows, no more divisions; they would all be united in a single cause, a single belief. Hunts such as these, with humans scattering and running, would be commonplace. With the Council nullified, who could stand in the way?

Chuckling broke out in the ranks of the army as they watched the defenders beat a hasty retreat, straight through the strange golden light and into the house. The light was an enigma, an anomaly and, although the army had faltered upon first seeing it they were now more than eager to make up for their earlier lapse in judgement. The instruction to "ignore the light" was leapt upon with alacrity and the army surged forward, heedless of the sudden tingling of their skin as the first tendrils of light touched them. Suddenly, everything was golden; everything they could see, hear, taste and smell. They inhaled it, absorbed it, feeling it within them, probing and searching. Some stumbled, falling to their knees and gazing unseeing at nothing, others merely stopped, mouths hanging open in utter confusion, whilst the rest faltered, still moving forward but slowly as though walking through treacle.

They could hear Legatus screaming at them to keep moving but his voice gradually faded until there was nothing but silence. An influx of strange thoughts and feelings filled the heavy silence. We shouldn’t be here. This is wrong. We should leave…this is not our place. A sudden shift in awareness and a few demons started moving backwards. Others wavered and then joined them as feelings of peace and satisfaction flooded through them. The ranks of the army broke as more and more began the retreat.

Daniel watched as Legatus paced up and down, yelling wildly at the demon army. He’s getting more and more unstable. He’s rather a complex yet simple personality…I wonder if the First realises what a strange Lieutenant he has? Daniel sighed and closed his eyes. I wish I could see it. I wish I could see the return of the First. I wish…I wish I could see my people again…just once more before I die. The Council killed them…so why do I feel that all this is…wrong? The sudden silence caused Daniel to open his eyes and glance towards the now motionless and quiet Legatus. What’s going on NOW?

"Nothing?" Daniel raised an eyebrow. "It looks as if they’ve won."

"Won?" Legatus shook his head. "I told you before, Daniel, that winning is not important. It’s information I need."

"You also said that you need the army to attack."

"Indeed I do," replied Legatus, looking amused. "Do you not see what Mr Giles is trying to do?"

Daniel shook his head.

"He’s calling on…" Legatus paused and regarded Daniel thoughtfully. Does it matter now if he knows? He’s going to die anyway. Nodding his head slightly, Legatus reached out and gently stroked Daniel’s hair.

"Do you know what the main threat to the First Evil REALLY is, Daniel?" Asked Legatus with a smile.

"The Council…and that Watcher," replied Daniel, frowning.

"They are part of it, yes, but everything has an opposite. Darkness and Light; Love and Hate…the First Evil and the First GOOD."

"There’s a First Good as well?"

"Of course there is. It is the only realistic threat."

"And Mr Giles is summoning the First Good?"

"In a way…the First Good is not an entity as such…not anymore."

"I don’t understand…you said you thought he’d missed your clues…did you WANT him to do this?"

"Yes," Legatus grinned. "I believe the expression is…I gave him enough rope to allow him to hang himself. You see, he might be able to stop the army for a while but he does not possess the energy to stop them completely. They WILL break through…especially with Mr Rayne’s help. Mr Giles and his passenger will not survive this battle but some of his…cohorts will. They will think their efforts to call on the First Good somewhat ineffective. It will not be something they will consider doing when the First actually manifests."

"So…all this is really to stop them summoning the First Good when the First Evil is ready to come here?"

"In a way. But as I told you before, information is also important." Legatus stepped back. "Now, Daniel, I need you to buy some time for Mr Rayne."

"Me?" Daniel looked surprised. "What can I do?"

"You can draw more energy from these idiots," Legatus waved a hand at those on the stone slabs, "and disrupt the spell our friend has cast. Force him to use more power…it’ll give him something to think about."

"There’s a limit to what I can do."

"I am aware of that. Do what you can … and if it means not transmitting images to those in the other realm for a while…then so be it."

Ethan sucked in a breath and shifted around on the back seat of the car, sitting up straighter. He stared around; allowing the magic to come to the fore and, as his perception shifted, he saw things with new eyes, a different awareness. Everything seemed brighter, sharper and he could feel the energy buzzing within him. God, I’ve missed this so much. Being able to feel this and experience no pain is worth sacrificing…sacrificing what? Is there a limit to who or what I would give up for this? No. I don’t think so. Anyway, it’s not as though I’ll actually be killing him myself…the magic will do that. The blood won’t be on MY hands.

"Oh, you’re looking much better," said Jayne, smiling delightedly at Ethan. Ethan couldn’t resist smiling back.

"You have NO idea how much," he replied as the smile slipped from Jayne’s face to be replaced with a slight frown.

"There’s something different," she said softly, "something…wrong…about you."

"No," murmured Ethan soothingly, sitting forward and staring at Jayne. "There’s nothing wrong. On the contrary, everything is RIGHT."

"Right," repeated Jayne softly, unable to tear her gaze away. "Everything is right."

"Very good," smiled Ethan, reaching out and gently touching Jayne’s cheek. "Now sleep."

Ethan delighted in the small surge of power and he grinned widely as Jayne slumped in the seat. At least that’s stopped you singing. Ethan cocked his head slightly and then grimaced as the strained sounding tones of Rolf Harris emanated from the speakers. Two little boys had two little toys…I hate that bloody song, thought Ethan as he shuffled across the back seat and opened the car door. He got out and slammed the door shut, staring up at the roof of the house and humming softly. I’m back. I’m back and I’m coming for you, Ripper…if I can stop that sodding song going round and round in my head.

Giles was aware of his body swaying as the effort to maintain the flow of magic consumed more and more of his physical energy. He regarded it almost dispassionately; feeling somewhat detached from corporeal matters, preferring instead the relative safety and security of the still point within.

Is that where you truly are? The familiar voice was almost an intrusion. To Giles, it sounded harsher, sterner. The true still point is a place of balance. It is not just a balance of energy…it is a balance between the mental and the physical.

I am well aware of that, responded Giles, but I still have control. I can alter the balance should I wish. At the moment, it is essential to keep the flow of magic stable and if that means using more physical energy then so be it. My physical form is in no danger…yet.

And leave me more susceptible to outside interference, responded Giles. I know. I can feel it… I can feel THEM. They are attempting to disrupt our spell. The wave is … faltering…patches are turning black.

They are causing enough problems for me to need to draw on more of the Coven’s resources. Giles instinctively reached out to the Coven, feeling the flow of energy increase as they unhesitatingly responded.

I am in control and…Giles paused as the magic from the Coven faltered and rippled, quickly becoming discordant and constrictive as first one then another of the Coven members collapsed with exhaustion. He used his own energy to shore up the supply, feeling his body shudder with the effort.

Giles struggled against the now erratic flow of energy, trying desperately to focus and control it. His body sagged as he drew more energy, trying to compensate for the loss of two Coven members. He could feel the panic and fear around him, hear muttering as the ladies called on strength from the forces of Light. Slowly, Giles could feel the wave retreating, the demands on him gradually lessening and he was relieved to feel Barbara’s reassuring presence surging around the circle, encouraging and comforting where needed.

Suddenly and without warning the golden light drew back, leaving the majority of the demon army gazing around in utter confusion. The feelings disappeared. No longer did they feel peace or satisfaction, there was no light inside twisting and altering their natures or perceptions. Some of those who were retreating stopped and scuttled quickly back into the main ranks of the army, whilst the rest continued running away. They didn’t get very far. As they reached the still smoking remains of the first barricade, they all simultaneously burst into flames and then exploded in a brilliant flash of light.

"That will be your punishment should you falter once more." Legatus’ voice echoed in their minds, cold and with a hint of underlying menace. "Will you allow these humans to best you? You have been here for too long. Your minds have grown soft and weak. Do you have any strength left? Or has the human blood you’ve all tasted corrupted you? Will destruction be your reward when the First manifests or will you HUNT?"

A roar greeted Legatus’ words and the army closed ranks once more, eager to carry out their orders. They could still see the light, now encompassing the house, but they regarded it with anger not fear.

"Stop once more and I will destroy you myself. Now, fulfil your destiny…tear these humans apart."

A part of Quentin wanted to scream in frustration when the images from Clunewic suddenly stopped, whilst the other, admittedly smaller part, was somewhat relieved. I don’t want to see them die…but I need to know what’s going on. Every small detail can be significant. Damn you…why have you stopped the images? Quentin didn’t expect an answer and was, therefore, surprised when one came.

"I apologise for the slight disruption in your entertainment, ladies and gentlemen, but I can assure you it is only temporary. What is that saying? Oh yes…normal service will be resumed as soon as possible."

This is NOT funny, you idiot! Why the hell are you doing this? Quentin put the full force of his will behind those thoughts, casting them out into the ether in the hope that, just this once, he might catch the attention of Legatus. He did and, for a brief moment, Quentin felt his mind being squeezed like a soft fruit in the grip of an iron glove.

"Mr Travers," Legatus’ voice contained a touch of amusement, "you of all people should know why I am doing this."

No. Quentin forced more thoughts towards Legatus, deciding that in the current situation he had little left to lose. There’s more going on. What you’re doing is too elaborate merely to dispose of…

"Dispose of what, Mr Travers? Your rather ineffective Council? Or simply its main records repository?"

Quentin ignored the implicit taunt and continued to hurl thoughts towards Legatus. If you’re so sure of yourself, then tell me this. Why no vampires in that army of yours? Are YOU not the ineffective one by relying solely on Demons?

"The explanation is simple, Mr Travers. I dislike vampires."

"A very good try, Mr Travers, but doomed to failure. You do not have the mental capacity to annoy me. That WAS your intention, was it not? Make me angry enough so that I make mistakes? Maybe let slip the odd detail? Disappointment is something you are going to have to learn to live with."

"I expect nothing of the sort, Mr Travers. Indeed, your colleagues have put up a spirited defence. It is almost a shame to kill them."

"A simple misunderstanding. The lines of communication were unclear."

Legatus chuckled. "I DO like you, Mr Travers. There’s more than a touch of Chaos in your nature. But enough talk. Your temporary respite is now over. It is time to return to your scheduled entertainment."

Captain West stared out at the demon army, frowning as he watched the golden light retreat, pulling back until it stopped just outside the house. Terrific, he thought with a sigh, here we go again.

"Mr Grant," he yelled, turning away from the window, "take all the civilians upstairs. Go through the hatch into the attic and then up onto the roof."

"But…" Charles frowned and started to protest.

"We don’t have time for arguments. Now MOVE!"

Charles nodded and headed for the stairs, shouting for the civilians to follow him. Captain West glanced at Captain Jones.

"How many ATR’s do we have left?"

"Two," sighed Captain Jones.

"That might be enough."

"For?"

"We need to buy time. There will be a bottleneck at the hatch…and getting everyone down the ladders isn’t going to be quick. Now, most of our weapons have little effect, right?"

"Right."

"So we use the ATR’s to bring down the ceiling and maybe the side wall to block the stairs. We need to find the right place of course…but it’ll give them pause for thought. They’ll have to work to get through it which is about all we can hope for at the moment."

"Fair enough."

"We’ll make a stand at the first landing. Send a small team ahead to scout for a good location to block the stairs. Oh and one more thing…"

"Yes?"

"We’ll gather the swords and knives from the walls as we go…we may need them."

James propped his rifle against the guard-rail and looked up at the wave of golden light above his head.

"Beautiful, isn’t it?" Said Rachel, glancing at James and lowering her rifle.

"I want to touch it," admitted James with a slight smile. "I want to see what it feels like."

"Let me guess. You were the type of child who went around sticking his fingers into power sockets to ‘see what it felt like’, weren’t you?"

"I only did it once," James grinned, dragging his gaze away from the light. He looked at Rachel and nodded at her rifle. "You might as well get rid of that. It’s out of our hands now…not that it was ever really in our hands to start with, of course."

Rachel put down her rifle and turned to stare at the kneeling figures in the centre of the roof.

"I wish I knew," replied James, walking closer to the circle. "Mr Giles isn’t looking too good…this kind of thing obviously takes it out of them."

"And there’s nothing we can do to help."

"No, but…" James eyes widened as a figure suddenly materialised on the far side of the circle. He was a thin, gaunt looking man with sharp features. His eyes were bright and seemed to shine as he turned his gaze on James.

"Who are you?" Asked Rachel, stepping forward to stand beside James.

"Children?" Came the almost disbelieving velvet voice. "Don’t tell me Ripper is letting children protect him again?

"I said ‘who are you’?"

"Ethan Rayne…at your service, my dear." Ethan bowed with a flourish and then started moving around the circle towards Giles. James immediately moved forward, blocking Ethan’s progress.

"If you want him, you’ll have to go through me."

"Such loyalty. I wonder what Ripper does to inspire it?" Ethan grinned suddenly, glancing over James’ shoulder to wink at Rachel. "And are YOU inspired as well, my dear?"

James glared and swung a punch at Ethan, shocked to find his fist stopped in mid-air.

"Still want me to go through you, young man?"

Quentin tried hard to focus on the images showing the activity on the roof of the Mansion House. Ethan Rayne. I KNEW I recognised you. We should have dealt with you sooner…put you safely out of the way. But if you’re there, does that mean that Rupert has been the target all along? No…no surely not. They could have disposed of Rupert a lot more easily than this. How far back does this go? How long has Legatus been planning this? Since Rupert merged with Vulcan’s Bane? Earlier than that? Too many questions. Think about this logically. One thing at a time.

"Retreat. Regroup. Second landing!" The clear voice of Captain West rang out and, as one man, the defenders disengaged and ran further upstairs. God, I hope this is buying enough time, thought the Captain, glancing back long enough to see the demons surging after them, because there’s not much left open to us now.

Giles felt a shudder go through him as the demons surged through the golden light, his body slumping down with no strength left to hold himself upright. He could feel the energy from the coven fluctuating as exhaustion claimed more of them and he tried desperately to maintain his focus as sections of the wave collapsed and dissipated.

Yes, thought Giles with resignation. It’s Ethan. And now this really IS over.

Legatus chuckled and clapped his hands in delight.

"You see, Daniel? Checkmate to me, I think. Humans have SO many weaknesses to exploit…it’s almost TOO easy."

"You say humans are weak and yet you are relying on one."

"Hardly relying, Daniel," smiled Legatus. "It’s an experiment. Ethan Rayne calls himself a ‘servant of Chaos’ yet humans are unable to grasp the true nature of Chaos. It is impossible for them to do so. They simply do not have the mental acuity or capacity. All these so–called ‘sorcerers’ like Ethan Rayne use their energy for their own petty little ambitions. Some may be employed by the lesser Chaos Lords like Janus to create mischief but that’s as far as they go. They do not even come close to experiencing true Chaos."

"So what if you WERE to give Ethan Rayne access to Chaos…like he thinks you will?"

"He would do as all humans do with something they do not understand. He would attempt to impose his will upon it and, by doing so, would try to bring Order to Chaos."

"So it would be true Chaos no longer?"

"Indeed. Give humans what they want and they end up changing and destroying it."

"Why bother with him then?"

"Information. It’s been a long time since I interacted with humans…I needed to reacquaint myself with their baser natures. Are they consumed by greed like we suspect? If Ethan Rayne kills Rupert Giles then I will know that we can use these dark sorcerers when the First manifests."

"If? You’re not sure?"

"Nothing is ever certain, Daniel. Especially when dealing with humans."

Charles panted as he reached the top of the stairs. Good lord, I never realised quite how out of condition I was.

"Up…through the hatch," he said, leaning against the banister, "and then onto the roof."

A brief hesitation and then the first of his colleagues started up the ladder. Charles tried to ignore the roars and screams coming from downstairs but couldn’t resist a quick glance over the banister.

"Can you see anything?"

"Hmmm?" Charles looked up into the anxious face of Ben Watson, a thin bespectacled figure who gave the impression of great fragility and delicacy.

"Can you see anything?" Ben repeated quietly.

"No…no I can’t."

"They’re dying down there, aren’t they? They’re dying for us?"

"No," Charles frowned. "They’re not doing it for us as such. They’re doing it because it’s their job to stand up and fight the darkness…to fight for what they…we…believe in. And you know something?"

Ben shook his head as Charles stepped away from the banister and moved to the top of the stairs.

"We should be with them," continued Charles firmly.

"Um…what?" Ben exchanged glances with those waiting to go up the ladder.

"This is OUR fight. I don’t know about the rest of you but I’m not going to run off into the night with my tail between my legs. We are WATCHERS. We have a duty and responsibility to do all within our power to stop this army."

"But…we can’t! We’re not soldiers…we won’t be able to do anything except die."

"One person can make a difference, Ben. And we CAN do something…we can stand and fight. You know I’m right…you ALL know that I’m right. Fear is what they live on…and we’re playing right into their hands by timidly running away. Tell me seriously…if you run now…if you go up onto the roof…could you live with yourselves afterwards? I know I couldn’t."

Charles took a deep breath and started walking downstairs, not glancing behind. I think I bollocksed that up, he thought with a sigh. Ah well…looks like I’m on my own. Charles heard a buzz of conversation but ignored it, concentrating on trying to hold back the nausea that washed over him in waves. His hands started shaking and his palms were sweaty and clammy. What AM I thinking? I’m not one for Sidney Carton heroics. The sound of footsteps and a slightly nervous cough caused Charles to glance behind him. He couldn’t help a small smile as Ben and the others trooped down the stairs towards him.

"How could we resist?" Said Ben with an answering smile. "Especially after your eloquent speech."

"You ARE sure?" Asked Charles and Ben nodded.

"We are. Lead on…sir."

Alan narrowed his eyes and frowned as he watched James struggle to free his fist from…nothing. His arm appeared motionless in the air and no matter how much James tugged and pulled, it didn’t move. I have to do something, thought Alan, but what? How did this Ethan Rayne guy do that? Magic? He can do that without a circle thing like Mr Giles? Alan shuffled slowly along the guard-rail until he had a clear view of the smirking Ethan Rayne. Now…carefully. No sudden movements. As unobtrusively as possible, Alan cautiously began to raise his rifle. He was aware of Scott beside him; he could almost feel the disapproval radiating from the other man in waves. Don’t move, Scott, he thought, don’t say a word. Alan’s finger tightened on the trigger as he slowly lifted the rifle higher and higher. Almost there…just a bit more. Alan gasped with pain and surprise as the rifle was suddenly torn out of his grasp. What the hell? He looked up, trying to ignore the tingling pain in his hands; his eyes narrowing as Ethan Rayne grinned cheerfully at him.

"How…how did you do that?"

"That’s hardly important, is it?" Ethan raised an eyebrow. "The important thing is what am I to do with you? Kill you? No…no, I don’t think so."

"Why not?" Asked Rachel, stepping forward and fixing Ethan with a hard stare.

"Because I don’t kill children, my dear. In fact," Ethan smiled at Rachel, "I think I’ll simply extend the spell on your boyfriend’s fist to encompass all of you…"

Ethan casually waved a hand, almost groaning aloud in delight, a shiver running up his spine as he briefly touched the dark energy and released it to do his bidding. Christ, this feels better than it’s ever been…almost fucking orgasmic. And this is just a small amount; just enough to freeze these buggers in place…it’s going to be bloody incredible when I really let go. Ethan took a deep breath, drawing the energy back and then grinning at Rachel.

"That’s much better, isn’t it? I don’t want you to miss anything so you can still see and hear…"

Legatus sounded distracted but the tone of his voice carried enough threat for Ethan to move across and squat down behind Giles. He put a hand on Giles’ shoulder and squeezed gently.

"I know you can hear me, Rip," Ethan whispered. "This is strictly between you and me…nobody else. We have unfinished business. If you don’t want these delightful ladies getting hurt then I suggest you break whatever link you have remaining with them so we can settle things once and for all."

Giles slowly, and almost painfully, turned his head, opening his eyes and staring at Ethan. Ethan found himself struggling not to flinch from the brutal, honest awareness in the bright, green eyes that forcefully held his gaze. He knows, thought Ethan. He knows I am his death. But…he looks like he’s dying anyway. Christ…what have they done to you, Ripper?

Giles felt calm and at peace with himself as he carefully broke the mental link with the coven, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on Ethan and watching the various emotions cross the other man’s face.

Humans face death in many ways. Vulcan’s Bane sounded softer, as though reassuring him. There is no right or wrong.

Giles carefully and deliberately released Barbara and Jo’s hands, aware of them both collapsing onto the roof. He took a deep breath and, without breaking eye contact, raised his hand and held it out. Ethan looked down at Giles’ outstretched hand and frowned. The scar is still there…faint…but it’s still there. Is it still on mine? Ethan held out his own hand and stared at it, as though seeing for the first time, the shallow white scar that crossed his palm. God, we were such pillocks. We thought the whole world owed us…but even then the fates conspired against us. It looks like we just can’t fight destiny, can we, Rip? Slowly, Ethan reached out and clasped Giles’ hand in his own.

The defenders were running for their lives, Captain West deliberately bringing up the rear as he urged on the tattered remnants of his force. Seven left, he thought with a touch of despair, nine if you count the ATR guys above us. Well, look on the bright side, if I’m to die then at least I won’t have to write those terrible letters of condolence. He glanced behind, thankful that they had managed to put some space between themselves and the demons lumbering after them.

"Come on, come on!" He yelled. "Almost there!"

They raced up the stairs towards the next landing where their two colleagues patiently waited, Anti Tank Rockets at the ready. With the weapons raised and braced over their shoulders, the two men waited until Captain West threw himself past them and then fired simultaneously. There was a loud whoosh that was quickly followed by an explosion as the side wall and a section of the staircase erupted in a cloud of dust and flame. The rumbling, crashing and splintering gradually died out and was replaced by an almost eerie silence. Captain West frowned, trying to spot movement through the dissipating dust cloud.

"Can you see anything?" Captain Jones whispered, leaning forward.

"No, but that’s not to…" Captain West stopped as loud roars broke through the silence and, as the dust cleared, he realised that the battle had swung once more in their favour. A section of the staircase had collapsed; the perilous gap made even more dangerous by the large chunks of rubble scattered on the remaining stairs. The demons on the far side were holding a brief conference and Captain West grinned, feeling relief flood through him. He frowned suddenly, swinging around as the heavy thump of footsteps sounded above them.

"Christ…they’ve got behind us?" Captain Jones turned and raised his sword.

"I don’t…" began Captain West, breaking off and raising an eyebrow as Charles Grant came into view followed by a large group of civilians. The Captain sighed and relaxed. "And what are YOU doing here?"

"This is OUR fight as well," replied Charles evenly, stopping in front of Captain West.

"Whilst you two argue," said Captain Jones with a grin, "the rest of us will move further down to stop our friends there getting any kind of foothold on this side of the gap."

"Before WE do," replied Captain West with a sigh, "you’d best hand over your spare weapons to these idiots here."

"Thank you," said Charles with a smile, accepting a rather vicious looking serrated knife.

"Don’t thank me yet."

"Those of you without knives," said Captain West, "use your rifles as clubs if you have to."

"But…surely they can’t get across THAT," replied Charles, pointing at the destruction below them.

"I wouldn’t like to bet against it," Captain West shrugged, "but it looks like we’ll be able to hold them back for a while. We’ve bought some time."

"For what?"

"Maybe time for Mr Giles to work a bit more magic?"

"Maybe, Captain…maybe."

Ethan grasped Giles’ hand tightly, finding himself unable to tear his gaze away from the bright, green eyes that seemed to bore into him. He had expected recriminations and accusations, not the calm acceptance he could see. Ethan couldn’t blink, couldn’t move, couldn’t seem to do anything but stare as the familiarity of Giles’ touch and smell caused a flood of memories and feelings to cascade over him. For Ethan, it was like watching a film in reverse, a backward trip down memory lane.

A small smile crossed Ethan’s face as he stared at Giles and winked briefly.

"No matter what," he whispered, grinning broadly as Giles nodded slightly.

Legatus grinned broadly as he turned to face Daniel.

"Make sure you don’t miss a second of this. The Council needs to realise that it doesn’t have a chance of stopping the First."

"I can only show them one thing at a time. I’m showing them the roof as you instructed."

"Good. It’s important that they SEE Rupert Giles die. When he dies, Vulcan’s Bane returns to the Sphere…and it can be of no help to them there."

"Can’t someone else use it?"

"No. The Sphere activates when the balance is in danger…it has ALREADY activated. It cannot simply move from person to person. It makes its choice…there are no second chances."

"You seem to know a lot about it."

"Indeed," Legatus smiled. "I am much older than I appear, Daniel. It is not the first time that I have crossed swords with Vulcan’s Bane."

"Were you…were you in the service of the First then?"

"Not then…no. I was ‘recruited’ much later."

"Who won?" Daniel found himself intrigued, deciding to take advantage of Legatus’ sudden willingness to talk. "I mean…when you ‘crossed swords’ with Vulcan’s Bane?"

"I like to think of it as a draw. Vulcan’s Bane won the first battle…with his help, Julius Caesar crossed the Rubicon, defeated Pompeii’s armies and became dictator. We won the second battle by stopping Caesar before a lot of his plans came to fruition."

"But…didn’t Augustus carry on a lot of what Julius Caesar planned?"

"Oh yes…but without the influence of Vulcan’s Bane, there was civil war. THAT’S what we wanted. We wanted death…and we got it. For a time anyway."

"We? Who did you serve then?"

"Oh," Legatus waved a hand, "a minor Chaos Lord who was obsessed with death. It’s one obsession I can very much understand though. Tell me, Daniel, have you ever killed someone? I mean close up…not from a distance?"

"No…no, I haven’t."

"Oh you don’t know what you’ve missed. Seeing physical life extinguished…watching the eyes dim…and then that one intense moment of sensing the soul itself depart …it’s quite a beautiful experience."

And I’m going to be next, thought Daniel with a touch of despair. I’m going to be your next "beautiful experience". And with me, dies the last of my kind. What a waste…what a stupid, stupid waste.