Here Be Monsters by Dokey Cameron

Author:Dokey, Cameron [Dokey, Cameron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Ten minutes later, Buffy was at home, moving through it with the single-minded determination of a heat-seeking missile. She rifled the contents of closets, pawed through drawers. No weapons. Nemesis had said.

But that isn’t the same as going empty-handed, is it?

The trouble was, with Nemesis making all the rules, it was awfully hard for Buffy to know what qualified as a weapon and what didn’t. And she didn’t want to weigh herself down with a bunch of miscellaneous stuff. There was no telling what she might be called upon to fight during the course of her upcoming trial.

Exasperated, she shut the door of the bathroom medicine cabinet with a snap of irritation. What did she think she was going to find in there? Did she think she could save her mother by brandishing her toothbrush?

Try as she might, Buffy just couldn’t bring herself to believe that the fact that she brushed so hard the bris-des all stuck out sideways was going to be all that terrifying to things that could be summoned by the Powers of Darkness.

She opened a drawer, snatched out a scrunchie to replace the one she’d forgotten at the library, yanked her hair back in a ponytail and secured it.

Streamlined is best, she thought, as she headed back to her bedroom to change her clothes. Fewer things for the whatever-they-weres she was about to encounter to grab onto.

She smiled a little grimly as she realized she was giving herself the same advice she’d given Suz Tompkins at the mall. Never give your enemy a handhold.

Quickly, Buffy changed into a pair of tight black pants, pulled cm a shirt, and slipped into her sturdiest pair of boots. The boots made her feel a little better. If she was going to kick the ass of the Powers of Darkness, she wanted to make as big an impression on it as she possibly could

Her mother never liked it when she did the basic black routine. But then, Buffy had to figure this was one time when even her mom would have to admit that what Buffy wore didn’t make a difference.

She shivered, suddenly. The truth was, Buffy felt a little naked without something from her Slayer’s bag of tricks. On impulse, she returned to her closet, pulled out the leather jacket Angel had given her a lifetime ago and slipped that on, too. The fact that it had pockets was somehow comforting.

Not that she had anything to put in them, of course.

She looked at the glowing numbers of the digital clock on her dresser. Ten minutes to midnight. Time to get going. Trying to ignore the way her heart was pounding like a bad bass line, she headed for the front door.

She got as far as the living room, then stopped dead.

There, on the couch, illuminated by a pool of light from a nearby lamp, lay her mother’s scrapbook project. Exactly as Joyce had left it, looking for all the world as if she had simply stepped away of her

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