Four

LION

They spent the rest of that week doing combat drills. Aikido, boxing, Krav Maga, and weapons training, just like before, except now there was a lot more of it. Rebecca wasn’t kidding; Faith’s combat training time was quadrupled. The good news was Faith would no longer have to run or lift weights; Slayer strength was magical, according to Rebecca, and, short of starving herself, a Slayer couldn’t get out of shape or lose muscle even if she wanted to. So Faith spent eight grueling hours a day with Rebecca, working on her fighting technique, getting used to her new body; to her new strength, her new speed, her new reflexes. Everything was strange to her. Just picking things up was different: everything felt lighter. She had nearly perfect aim now, with any weapon that came to hand. She could punch through solid wood. When she walked she felt almost weightless, like she was walking on air. She could sprint at thirty miles an hour for ten minutes before beginning to tire. She could do a thousand pushups.

“Again,” Rebecca said. Faith was pretty sure it was Rebecca’s favorite word in the whole English language.

It was Saturday, and Faith was in her sweats, in the gym. On her ass on the mat, where she’d been most of the day. Rebecca stood over her, all business.

Trevor was there too, cheering Faith on, saying completely unhelpful things like “You can do it!” and “Oh, you almost had her that time!” whenever Rebecca threw her, which was a lot. It turned out that Trevor was a former special forces commando with a British outfit called the S.A.S., and he liked watching Rebecca and Faith’s training routines. When Faith asked what the S.A.S. was, Trevor smiled and said, “We’re the people you don’t see until it’s too late.”

Faith groaned, got up, and ran at Rebecca. Faith was sneakier this time: she anticipated Rebecca’s move and tried to sweep her legs. It didn’t work, and Faith ended up back on the mat, back on her ass.

“Ow,” Faith said.

“Oh, so close, Faith, so very, very close,” Trevor said.

“You’re getting better,” Rebecca said. “Still not good enough, but better.”

She offered Faith her hand, and pulled her up.

“A Slayer always thinks tactically, Faith,” Rebecca said. “She instinctively catalogues her surroundings, noting any terrain or object that can be used for offensive or defensive advantage. A Slayer catalogues her opponent as well, both physically and psychologically, and you did that: you knew I prefer to go to my left and tried to use it against me. Bravo, but I don’t really prefer going to my left. I just wanted to see if you’d notice.”

They had been doing aikido throws all afternoon and Faith’s ass ached. So she smiled with relief when Rebecca called it a day.

“Have mercy on your poor Slayer,” Trevor said. “Or we’ll be late for our dinner reservation.”

“Yes, that’s enough for today,” Rebecca said, looking at the clock. “We have to drop Faith off at her party too.”

She smiled at Faith, and put her arm around her.

“You’re doing well, Faith,” she said. “You’re a natural at boxing, your footwork is excellent and your aikido is coming along nicely. Don’t feel discouraged because I can throw you. Aikido is geared toward defeating a superior foe. It’s an effective counter to your Slayer strength. That’s why you have to learn it.”

“Hope Uncle Bob shows up before my butt falls off,” Faith said. Rebecca laughed.

“Uncle Bob?” Trevor said.

“Faith likes to poke fun at our quaint British expressions,” Rebecca said.

“Ah,” Trevor said. “Yes, someone probably should.”

“Don’t worry, Faith,” Rebecca said. “You’re learning fast; you’ll be throwing me in no time.”

“And dear Becky is a fifth degree black belt, don’t you know,” Trevor said. “Amazing you were even able to lay a hand on her today at all. Not only will Bob be your uncle in no time, but I’m sure Fanny will be your aunt.”

Faith raised her eyebrow. Every time she thought there weren’t any more weird British sayings, up popped a new one. She made a mental note to poke fun at Rebecca about it later.

“Now run along and get dressed. You don’t want to be late for your party,” Rebecca said.

After getting her ass handed to her all day Faith thought at first she might not be up for the party at Evan’s place that night, but that magic Slayer mojo kept on pumping in her veins and after a shower and a quick bite to eat (Faith’s famous grilled cheese sandwiches with bacon and tomato which Trevor called “delightfully primitive”) Faith was ready to dance.

Evan’s parents were, in his words, “ridiculously rich; really, Faith, it’s just ridiculous,” so Evan’s condo in Cambridge was a breathtaking sight, a huge duplex with a glorious view of the Charles River. The large, sunken living room with its three big blue couches and the rug that felt a foot deep looked like something from the Playboy Mansion, and a giant sound system took up the entirety of one wall, blasting Evan’s Roxy playlist through the room, out the windows and across the entire neighborhood. The place even had a terrace, and Evan was out there with the grill going, passing back hot dogs and burgers (Faith ate three hot dogs and two cheeseburgers; being a Slayer was hungry business). There was a fully stocked bar running along the wall separating the sunken living room from the kitchen and it was bigger than the one at The Roxy; if Evan’s place had a dance floor, it would have been a better club than The Roxy. Dan was behind the bar, slinging drinks, his blue hair done up in a special new spiked ’do tonight, because his girlfriend was back from vacation.

The place was packed, wall-to-wall, and the music was so loud it sounded like artillery, and everyone was dancing and laughing and drinking and having so much fun that Faith was becoming seriously worried about the cops breaking it up. Then Dan informed her that his Dad was the Cambridge Chief of Police, and Faith relaxed, grabbed a Coke, and kicked back on one of the couches. Someone offered her a joint, which she politely declined.

Once he’d handed the grill off to someone else and finished making the polite host rounds, Evan sat next to her, looked back at Dan and said, “Barkeep, one margarita and don’t skimp on the salt, and a Coke for my date, chop-chop.”

“Yes, your fabulousness,” Dan said.

“I’m glad you came,” Evan said to Faith.

“Thanks for the invite,” Faith said.

“Don’t be silly. How could I not invite my girl? It wouldn’t be the same without you. And don’t worry, we’ll make sure you get a ride home. Dan’s doing his designated driver thing tonight, so he can drop you if I get too ridiculous with the margaritas, which, yeah, I’m thinking I might.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking you might too. But it’s cool, I can always have Becca come get me. What’s Dan’s girl like? He told me she was coming.”

“Name’s Terry, she’s supposed to be by a little later. She’s a drama queen, and she orders Dan around like she’s Margaret Thatcher. But then I order him around like I’m Margaret Thatcher too.”

Faith thought about how strange her life had become since she’d met Rebecca. She actually knew who Margaret Thatcher was now.

“And she loves him, so there’s that,” Evan continued. “She’s fairly hot. Not Faith hot. She’s this petite little blonde thing. They’re happy, that’s the main thing. He’s my bud...I’m glad he’s happy.”

“You sound a little worried,” Faith said. “She monopolizing him a little maybe?”

“Yeah. He loves her. We don’t hang out as much. But he’s my bud. I’ll work with it.”

He put his arm around her. It caught Faith off guard.

“I’m putting my arm around you,” he said. “Deal with it.”

“Sure,” she said, and laughed, and leaned against him. It was nice.

“That guy at The Roxy was a prick,” Evan said.

“Yeah,” Faith said. The memory still cut.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m good. But see? Told you I was a loser magnet. It’s like I got a sign on my back. ‘Hey guys, come dump on me’.”

“Not forever. You’ll find the right guy. Give it time.”

Faith nodded, and wondered how much time she had.

“So are you ready to tell me how you managed to toss him across the room yet?” Evan said. “You were like Wonder Woman. Except without the red white and blue panties.”

“It’s...just...y’know...like I said. I uh, do some martial arts, here and there,” Faith said.

“Don’t ask, don’t tell. I get it,” Evan said, seeing right through her like he always did. “But listen, if you ever need a shoulder? Or a place to crash? You know I’ll always be here for you. Don’t ever forget that.”

They sat for awhile, leaning against each other, and looked at the crowd. Faith noticed two girls watching her like hawks.

“I think those two blondes are gonna put a hit out on me,” Faith said.

“Those two,” Evan said. “Yeah, they’ve been up my ass all night. They grabbed my ass, actually. I had to hide in the bathroom for awhile to get away from them. For real. Actually hid in the fucking bathroom at my own party.”

“They’re kinda hot, you know. Maybe a little on the slutty side...”

“They look good but their brains are on standby. I don’t do dumb. Besides, they’re not as hot as you. You’ve kind of spoiled me with your hotness.”

“Well, duh,” she said, and looked at him. Their faces were very close to each other...their lips were very close to each other. They both acknowledged the moment, and let it pass.

It was nice. Faith liked having a guy who was just a friend. She liked not having to deal with that pressure. Not having to figure out how far to let a guy go this time, where to draw the line. You gave an inch and guys wanted to take a mile. If you let them go too far they thought you were a slut. Not far enough, and they lost interest. She was tired of that game. It was nice, not having to play it...

If only Evan wasn’t so damn hot, Faith thought. Damn, damn, damn.

“What?” Evan said, giving her that smile he gave her sometimes, the one that made him look like a fox in a chicken coop. Faith knew that Evan knew he was gorgeous, and she knew that he knew that she liked him, and she knew he was being insufferable about it like he always was because he liked getting her all hot and bothered. Faith wasn’t sure, but she thought he might even have been acting impertinent too. But that was okay. Faith liked when Evan was insufferable and possibly even impertinent, and she liked being all hot and bothered for him. So she giggled, and put her head on his shoulder.

“You know,” Faith said.

“I wasn’t able to make you blush this time,” Evan said. “Gave it my best shot too. Did the smile and everything.”

“I blushed a little,” Faith said.

“You’re pretty when you blush.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Duh. The tip-off was all those millions of times I’ve called you pretty.”

“You’ve never called me pretty before.”

“What are you talking about? I call you pretty all the time. I called you pretty like two minutes ago.”

“You called me hot.”

“Yeah, well, hot, pretty...same thing.”

“They’re not the same. I’d rather be pretty than hot.”

“Well, you’re both. You and me, you know what we’re like? We’re like Bruce Willis and whatshername in Moonlighting. We can never get together, or the show will become lame. Except we’re both so much prettier than they are.”

“I don’t know, Ev, Bruce Willis is fine. I’d need to see the whole package to make an informed judgment on that one.”

“Maybe for your birthday I’ll jump out of a cake. Hey, those two blondes remind me of a joke.”

“Oh, no.”

“Okay, so there are these three fifth grade girls, a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead. Which one has the biggest tits?”

“I know it’s gonna be the blonde, but I don’t know why.”

“The blonde, because she’s eighteen. Why did the blonde stare at the orange juice?”

“Why?”

“Because it said ‘concentrate’ on the carton.”

Faith giggled. “You are such a goof,” she said.

Across the room, the two blondes walked off in a huff.

“Think they heard the jokes?” Evan said.

“What are they complaining about?” Faith said. “They got to grab your ass. I didn’t get to grab your ass.”

“You can grab my ass if you want.”

“You know I’m gonna hold you to that, right?” Faith said.

The next day Faith and Rebecca had dinner in Boston’s North End, a tiny neighborhood of Italian restaurants and shops and old redbrick houses built on narrow, crooked streets that weren’t really maneuverable by car, but that didn’t stop people from trying anyway. The double-parked cars, the traffic jams, the insistent beeping of horns and the hurling of expletives in both English and Italian was a traditional part of the neighborhood’s ambience. It was a warm day, and old women sat on their front steps, and men sat in the espresso cafes arguing about soccer teams, and Rebecca and Faith explored the neighborhood, peeking in the windows of all the restaurants and cafes, before settling on a place to eat. They were about to walk into a promising little restaurant called Lucca when they bumped into three handsome Italian men coming out of a cafe next door.

“No, no, Lucca has gone down, it’s only for tourists now,” one of them, a gorgeous man with slicked-back black hair, beard stubble and a big smile, said. “Could we let two beautiful girls eat second-rate food?” he said to his buddies, who were laughing. One of them, whom Faith thought was even more gorgeous than the first, took Rebecca’s hand and gently turned her around. “Signorina, try Taranta,” he said, pointing down the block. “For you, only the best.”

“Well...thank you very much,” Rebecca said. “I believe we will.”

The man holding Rebecca’s hand kissed it, and bowed. The third one, a tall man with a ponytail and dark eyes whom Faith would seriously have considered marrying if he asked, took Faith’s hand and kissed it. “Watch out for this one,” he said. “A heartbreaker. She’s gonna be a heartbreaker!” Faith giggled. “If I was only just a little younger man,” he said. “Just a little younger man...”

“Enjoy, ladies,” the first man said with a smile, and the three of them waved and walked away, resuming their argument about soccer.

“Well. This is one part of Boston I think I can appreciate,” Rebecca said.

“I’d say those guys were being pretty damn impertinent,” Faith said.

“Yes, but I like impertinence.”

“Y’know, Becca, if I didn’t know you better I would’ve sworn you were blushing for a sec there.”

“Certainly not,” Rebecca said.

The three impertinent Italian men were right about the restaurant, but when Rebecca and Faith got back to the car after dinner, Rebecca didn’t drive them home. She headed away from downtown instead.

“Where are we going?” Faith said. They were driving through the tunnel, toward the other side of the city. The sun was low; it would be setting soon.

“Hunting,” Rebecca said. “You’re ready. You’re used to your new abilities now. You’re strong, smart and skilled. It’s time to begin.”

Faith knew this day was coming. This was what all her training had been for. What her whole life, in a way, had been for. She felt the way she did back in school, when some girl called her out and she knew she’d have to either fight or run. You’re dead after school. But her whole life up to now, every fight she’d ever been in, every tough project chick she had to smack down to protect what was hers...it was all minor league ball. Now she was in the majors. And getting sent back down meant six feet under. Faith nodded her head, and tried to hide her fear.

“I told you that you’ll be able to sense vampires at a distance,” Rebecca said. “Mostly because you’ll smell them--you’ll find all your senses are sharper now but your sense of smell is much sharper than any of the others. You’ll find that all vampires have a particular scent that you’ll instinctively recognize. In fact you’ll be able to recognize anyone, not just vampires, by their scent now. But a vampire’s sense of smell is even better than yours. They’re like bloodhounds. Once a vampire has your scent he can track you for miles. Remember that.”

“Will they know I’m the Slayer?” Faith said. “I mean, like, how you said vamps are gonna smell a certain way to me. Does the Slayer smell a certain way to them? Will vamps be able to tell I’m the Slayer just by how I smell to them?”

“That’s a very smart question,” Rebecca said, and smiled. “You’re a perceptive girl. Luckily the answer is no. To a vampire you simply smell like a teenaged girl; Slayers don’t have a specific scent in common. But vampires remember every scent they’ve ever encountered, just like you will from now on. You have advantages over vampires, Faith; you’ll find you’re much stronger than the average vampire, and usually faster too, and another very important advantage you have is surprise. You’ll immediately know if someone is a vampire simply by how they smell, but a vampire won’t know you’re the Slayer until you show your strength. It gives you the first move in a fight. That’s why it’s important that you never let a vampire escape from you. If a vampire runs into you and manages to escape, he’ll know your scent after that and when he smells it, he’ll know the Slayer is nearby. Even worse, he’ll be able to track you. You can only take a vampire by surprise once. Make it count.”

They came out of the tunnel onto a highway. Faith looked out the window. They were on the other side of the Harbor, now; the familiar Boston skyline was behind them and receding, the skyscrapers reflecting the light of the setting sun, blood red.

“You’re the Slayer now, Faith, and that makes you a target,” Rebecca said. “Once you begin destroying vampires word will get around; you’ll develop a reputation and some vampires will even seek you out. You must be alert and ready for battle at all times from now on, not just when you’re out hunting. You can be attacked anywhere, at any time. Madeleine Lambert once had to fight off seven vampires while she was watching a figure skating competition at the Winter Olympics in a crowd of twenty-thousand people.”

“In the vamps’ defense, figure skating makes me want to kill people sometimes too,” Faith said.

“Don’t joke,” Rebecca said. “There are vampires who take Slayers like trophies. You’re not going to be one of them.”

The Lexus parked outside a cemetery in East Boston as the sun set and evening came on. East Boston was a working class neighborhood separated from Boston by the Harbor, its streets lined with ugly tripledecker houses rammed together with hardly any space between them. All surrounded by Boston’s Logan Airport, which defined the neighborhood’s boundaries and gave it its shape. Planes took off and landed right over their heads, and Faith wondered how the people living there, mostly Hispanic and poor, ever got used to it. Rebecca turned off the motor, and looked at Faith in the dark.

“Remember that nature special that was on last week?” Rebecca said. “The one about lions?”

“Yeah?” Faith said.

“You’re the lion.”

They got out of the car, and walked toward the cemetery. It was big, with lots of trees, and a black wrought-iron gate all around. There was a playground in a field next to it. The area was residential; there were houses across the street.

“Vamps hang out here? Right in sight of people? Right near a playground?” Faith said.

“Remember they can look human when they want to,” Rebecca said. “I’ve been exploring Boston for months now; I’ve been to every cemetery in the city. I know where the vampires are. I found evidence two nights ago that a small group, perhaps two or three vampires, is nesting here. The playground just makes it prime real estate for them. That’s why I picked this group first. You’re going to make an example out of them.”

The cemetery’s gate was locked, with a heavy chain.

“Don’t feel much like a lion,” Faith said.

“That’s because you haven’t caught their scent yet,” Rebecca said.

“Locked. We can climb over, I guess.”

“No. Break the lock. Let’s make a proper entrance.”

“Break the lock?”

Rebecca looked at her. “Break it,” she said.

“Uh, okay,” Faith said, and took the heavy padlock in her hands...and effortlessly pulled it apart.

“Wow,” Faith said. “I keep forgetting how strong I am now.”

“Feel like a lion yet?” Rebecca said, and pushed the gate open, and marched into the cemetery the way Napoleon marched back into Paris. There was a man at the far end, a couple hundred yards away, sitting on a tombstone and smoking a cigarette. He wasn’t looking in their direction yet.

“Is that man a vampire?” Rebecca said.

Faith looked at him, trying to decide.

“Don’t think about it,” Rebecca said. “It isn’t a riddle. You’re the Slayer. You know this. Look at him and tell me if he’s a vampire.”

Faith looked at him...and suddenly, somehow...she knew.

“Yeah,” she said. “He’s a vamp.”

“Excellent,” Rebecca said. “Now go kill him.”

“Uh...yeah. Okay,” Faith said, afraid, and trying not to be. She started walking toward the man.

“Faith,” Rebecca said, softly.

Faith turned.

“I know you’re afraid,” Rebecca said. “It’s natural.”

Rebecca put her hands on Faith’s shoulders, and ran her fingers through her hair.

“Don’t try to impress me tonight. You don’t have to. I’m already impressed. I’m already proud of you,” Rebecca said, and hugged her.

“Thanks,” Faith said, and looked up at Rebecca, who always seemed so tall and strong and beautiful. “That...really means a lot to me, y’know?”

It was a goodbye hug, Rebecca knew. The girl she met that cold, starry November night wouldn’t be coming back...she would be gone forever soon. Rebecca didn’t want to let her go.

But she knew she had to. Rebecca broke the embrace.

“Remember what he is,” Rebecca said. “He looks human but he’s not. He’s a demon in human shape and he doesn’t have a soul. He murders and rapes and butchers people. He’s your prey; nothing more. Kill him.”

Faith nodded, and walked away.

The night was coming on quickly now, and the moon, a thick crescent, was on the rise through the clouds, sometimes hiding behind them, sometimes revealing itself; it lit the sky with silver. There were street lights outside the cemetery, bathing part of it in hard white light. Faith walked in the dark part, past little weathered tombstones, leaning at angles, some decorated with faded death’s heads: skulls with wings. A white Ford Thunderbird drove too fast down the street, blasting an Aerosmith song she knew.

Maybe tomorrow, the good Lord will take you away, the song said...

And then, suddenly, Faith was aware.

She was aware of all the little leaning tombstones. She was aware of the crunch of twigs beneath her feet. The smell of the grass. The slight, warm wind rustling the leaves. The moon like an eye staring down at her. She was aware of all of it, all at once.

It was as if all her senses had...reached out, somehow...

She was aware of the swing set in the little playground on the other side of the cemetery squeaking in the wind and Rebecca watching her from far away and the feel of the stake in her pocket and the smell of the vampire’s cigarette smoke and the Aerosmith song fading away down the street...

Her skin tingled, caressed by the wind. It was as if she was feeling the wind for the first time in her life. Everything she was sensing came at her like a wave, like a riptide carrying her out to sea. She almost lost her balance, lost herself. She had to steady herself against a tree, center herself again. The bark felt sensuous under her fingers. In the tree’s coarse, craggy skin, in all its sharp, knobby protrusions and its little shallow valleys, Faith could discern a whole new world of intricate patterns...like the tree went on forever.

Everything was so much more, now. So much deeper.

After a moment she found she could sift through the sense data...sort it, catalogue it. She realized Rebecca was right: the vampire smelled like rotten meat. Like a carcass. And Faith instinctively knew that all vampires smelled the same way. But the vampire also had a specific scent underneath that one, specific to him alone. The rotten meat smell overwhelmed it but it was still there. Faith guessed the other scent must be how the vampire smelled when he was still alive. Rebecca had a specific scent too, and Faith catalogued it, and knew she would always remember it. It was a pretty scent. Faith liked it.

Faith felt like she was waking up, for the first time in her life...that her life before this moment had only been a dream. She felt brand new.

She wasn’t afraid of the vampire anymore. She had the scent.

The vampire became aware of her. He turned and dropped his cigarette. Faith heard him growl.

He loped toward her, seeming to Faith a half-animal thing, still growling, but smiling now too. He smelled like rotten meat.

They met, by a stand of trees, and regarded each other.

“You lost, girl?” he said. He was a tall Puerto Rican man with dark hair, earrings, and a goatee.

“Nope,” Faith said...and something happened.

She felt her heart beating and felt a rush... like she needed to move, like she needed to dance, like she needed to fuck. Like she needed to kill.

“You know what I am? You know what this is?” the vampire said. “You’re gonna die tonight, honey.”

Faith showed him her stake. “Know what this is?” she said.

She could see he didn’t like the stake one bit.

“Who the fuck are you?” he said, his smile gone.

“I’m the Slayer,” she said.

“Slayer’s out in Cali.”

“Didn’t you hear? There are two of us now. Double your pleasure...” and she smiled, and bared her teeth at him.

“’Cuz I can go all night,” Faith snarled, and ran at him like a lion charging an antelope.

She threw a punch that sent him flying twenty feet across the cemetery before he even had a chance to move and he slammed into a tombstone, breaking it in two. He got up and sprang at her, his face changing to vampire form as he did, becoming a grotesque thing with long animal fangs, but Faith grabbed him by the arm and flipped him over her head into a tree. Before he could get up she rained down punches on him, cracking his head against the tree over and over again. She picked him up by the throat and held him in the air in a grip like steel. He was barely conscious. She held the stake up so he could see it. She smiled.

“Bye, honey,” she said, and staked him. The whole fight had taken less than ten seconds.

Faith felt like a lion. Boston was her territory now. She’d defend it.

A moment passed, and then Rebecca was standing behind her. Faith recognized her scent.

“How does it feel?” Rebecca said.

“Feels like more,” Faith said.

“Their crypt is down that way,” Rebecca said. “Shall we pop in and say hello?”

The crypt was a small mausoleum, made from granite, with stone steps leading to the arch-shaped door in front, and a peaked roof topped with a cross. The stone looked centuries old and was overgrown with leaves. The door was shut tight. Faith kicked it open with a boom that echoed through the cemetery. The crypt smelled like blood and booze inside, and it was dark, lit only by a solitary torch. A large stone crucifix was broken in pieces on the floor.

Two vampires sitting on a sarcophagus looked up from their card game and their whiskey.

Faith’s eyes lit up when she saw the vampires. They were like Christmas presents. She wanted to rip them open, and see what was inside.

“Knock knock,” Faith said.

The fight lasted almost a minute this time; the short, wiry Mexican kid was quick and got a good hit in on Faith that sent her flying. In a strange way, that made Faith like it even better. She staked him after flipping him with an aikido throw that sent him into a wall, and a knee to the head that put him down.

Now Faith had the other one, a pretty black girl with bleached blonde hair in corn rows and nervous, darting eyes, on the floor, with her knee on the girl’s stomach and the girl’s right arm in a wrist lock. The girl’s bloody earlobe was on the floor beside her. Faith had torn it off, a nasty and very effective little move Rebecca had taught her that had taken the girl out of the fight in the first three seconds. The girl had cowered on the floor, crying, while Faith killed her friend.

The vampire looked up at Faith in terror. Faith looked down at her like she was a piece of meat.

“See ya,” Faith said, and staked her.

“Excellent,” Rebecca said, walking into the crypt. “The aikido throw, the wrist lock...and I especially liked the bit with the ear.”

“Bob’s your uncle,” Faith said, as she got up and dusted herself off.

Rebecca laughed. It was a strange sound, in the crypt; it echoed through that dark place and filled it up, like the sun shining in. “Yes, dear, we’ll make a right English girl of you yet,” she said.

“Think I gotta get some cool lines for when I dust vamps though,” Faith said. “Like Arnold Schwarzenegger. I can be all, ‘hasta la vista, baby’.”

“You realize I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re referring to, of course,” Rebecca said.

“Do all vamps live like this?” Faith said, looking around. The crypt was a dump and it stank. Beer cans and whiskey bottles were strewn about everywhere, there was a pile of dirty old clothes heaped in a corner that smelled like urine, and there were blood stains on the floor.

“Most do,” Rebecca said. “Some, mostly the ones that have been around for awhile, have a sense of taste. But most vampires live like transients, finding protection from the sun where they can. They have complete freedom: they kill as they please, and they feel no sense of remorse or even hesitation about it. There’s a purity to vampires, the purity that comes from being soulless. Having a soul is a complicated, messy thing; being a good person is hard. But evil is easy.”

“I’m hungry,” Faith said, when they got back to the car. “Weird. Just ate like an hour ago.”

“Most Slayers are hungry after a good kill,” Rebecca said. “And your body will be different now: you’ll be eating more in general. Don’t worry, it will never go to fat. We can find a restaurant somewhere, or there’s that leftover hummus in the fridge.”

“I need something with some good meat in it. But a restaurant will take too long, I need meat like, right now. Evan says there’s this take-out place called Kelly’s over on Revere Beach.”

“You should have Evan over to the house for dinner sometime. I’d like to get to know him better.”

“Sure. Anyway he says they have great roast beef sandwiches. I think it’s around here somewhere.”

“Roast beef sandwiches. How charming,” Rebecca said.

Slaying made Faith hungry, and she had a big sloppy roast beef sandwich with sauce and cheese that was the most roast beef she had ever seen in one place in her life, a bucket of french fries as big as her head and a super-sized Coke. Slaying also made her horny, but she didn’t tell Rebecca that. Rebecca looked relieved when she saw the menu was more varied than just roast beef, and ordered onion rings and coffee, both of which she pronounced “capital”. And they sat on the beach wall, eating and looking out at the moon on the ocean. It was a beautiful spring night, with summer on the way and the ocean smell strong on the gentle breeze, and the beach was packed with parked cars, and a lot of limos. It was prom season, and the kids in the limos preened and posed and laughed in their rented tuxes and fancy dresses. Faith turned and watched them as they drove by.

“Do you want to go back to school?” Rebecca said, watching the limousines. “Do you miss school?”

“Nah,” Faith said. “Southie High was a pit.”

“There are better schools. Private schools. I could enroll you for September. Anywhere you want. Trevor could make some calls.”

“Never was much for, y’know, homework and all that. Might’ve been nice to go to prom though.”

“You have a destiny, Faith. A grand one. It will be better than any prom.” Rebecca looked at Faith with that eyebrow of hers raised. “That’s not to say a good man wouldn’t help you pass the time though. How’s Evan been lately?”

“He’s...a really good friend.”

“Mmm-hmm. Well, hope springs eternal. And there’ll be others.”

“No big. Never had any luck with guys anyway. I’m good just, being with you and doing our Slayer stuff, y’know? I don’t need anything else. Are we gonna be going to Sunnydale?”

“Yes. But not now. We’ve lost Kendra, but Angelus has been destroyed and Spike and Drusilla are gone. They don’t need us there just now and you need more training. The Hellmouth is calm for the moment, so we’ll let you put the fear of God into Boston for awhile before we unleash you on California.”

“I want to meet Buffy,” Faith said.

“You will,” Rebecca said. “And I’m sure you’ll be good friends. We’ll go out there. But not just yet.”

“Taking down Angelus...Buffy’s really something. Plus The Master last year too. Becca...tell me honestly. Be upfront with me. Do you think...I can ever be as good a Slayer as Buffy is?”

Rebecca put her arm around her.

“Yes, Faith,” Rebecca said. “I know you can. And I know you will.”

“Okay,” Faith said.

“So how do you feel after your first night as the Slayer?” Rebecca said.

“Five by five,” Faith said, and smiled.