Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Dexter. They belong to Joss Whedon and Jeff Lindsey.

Dexter and the Dark Angel

The reaction was almost instantaneous and the circle lit before Faith even had a chance to escape. Faith ran towards the end but she was too late. She bounced back as if she ran into a force field and fell ass first to the floor.

"Throw me a weapon," she frantically called, "A sword!"

That was a bit easier said then done. I still had Nutford on my line and there was no way I was going to let him go. I had my prized that I had hunted for and I was a bit too peckish to let my prey get away.

Taking both ends into my left hand, I give the line a hard tug. He gasped and was momentarily stunned by the sudden serious lack of air. I used Nutford's surprise as a chance to grab a sword with my right hand. It was a bit of a stretch, but I was able to get my hand around the handle. The retrieval wasn't very graceful due to the fact that it was quite heavy, but I managed to hang on to both of my items as the tip clattered to the floor.

I went to throw the sword to Faith when I paused. How exactly does one throw a sword?

Perhaps it would be best to slide it on the floor to her.

I rolled the sword to Faith, well as much as one can roll a sword. It skidded across the sublime designs with a scrapping noise. I was almost afraid for a moment that it would completely scratch up the glorious artwork (but I was lucky in the fact that it did not). It was aimed well and I expected her to have to jump over it. Instead, she brought one of her leather heeled boots down onto the blade. With a clank, it came to a halt. Just in time too, because weird things began to happen.

A mist rose inside the circle. It was low to the ground and swayed in an unseen tide like waves. I switched the line again so I was gripping it in both hands. It seemed that most of the fight had gone out of Nutford but I wasn't about to press my luck. And now that I was no longer chucking swords at people, I could focus on holding him in place.

Nutford was turned towards the circle. He was making what sounded like mewing noises and it t was almost as if he was excited about something. His bovine like body trembled against mine. It was unsettling to say the least but it was a small price to pay to keep my quarry close.

I watched as Faith slowly turned to face the center of the circle. She was controlled, and at that moment she looked ever bit the perfect killer that I knew she was. Faith kept her sword low, the tip just barely resting on the stone floor. Mist rose around her and swirled in slow circles, obscuring my view of the ground. She was focused on the center of the circle.

I felt a bit lost at what exactly was going on. It troubled me greatly, especially since I felt as if I was the only one left in wonder.

The mist rose slowly until it was up to her knees, and I could taste the dampness on my tongue. Cold and almost bitter. I expected it to keep rising, but the pattern changed. There was a great gushing noise and the mist formed a dense column of fog. The pale fog got darker, leaching light from around it until it looked like pitch black smoke.

As the ground began to rumble, it became more difficult to keep my footing and I clutched Nutford tightly to keep from toppling over. But Faith stood solid, barely swaying as the ground heaved below her. She was a statue in the mist of Pompey as the world was turning into a fiery hell. A low growling came from within the mist. It sounded like an animal, perhaps a tiger whose tail had been pulled one too many times.

I was fairly certain that Faith wasn't alone anymore.

The fog wavered and rippled.

I didn't think that it was possible for Faith to get any tenser but she did. I watched her shoulders curve slightly, her knees bend and lock as her spine straightened. Her body became so rigid that she looked like she could spring forth at any moment.

Out from the mist walked something I had never seen before. And from crime scenes to hunting large game with my father, I had seen a lot. It was large, probably around ten feet tall and black. The creature stood on two hind legs with inverted knees. Its arms were almost as long as its body with thick bristles running in a line from the shoulder to the back of the hand. These bristles also traveled along the spine and continued down a long tail. The eyes were large and round, a pale yellow color that greatly contrasted with its black hide, and were set on a wolf-like face. It smiled and displayed a huge set of gleaming white teeth. Once the creature was clear of the mist, the mist dispersed as if the air had always been crystal clear.

This might be the dinner guest that Nutford was talking about. Whatever this thing was, it was eying Faith hungrily.

As I watch this new, strange creature in wonder, I couldn't help the one thought that kept repeating through my mind. Was the circle going to keep that thing inside it too, or did I need to look for a sword like the one that I just sent to Faith?

I don't often fear things, but this seemed like as good as time as any to start.

Lowering itself to the ground, it walked towards Faith on all fours and made a hissing sound that echoed strangely. It reminded me of a kettle of water releasing steam.

She crouched, adding a slight spring to her knees.

"Come on bitch," she muttered. "Let's go."

The thing growled in response and leapt at her.

She lunged to the right and out of its way. A figure of fierce beauty as she maneuvered throughout the air. I watched as the creature swung its tail at her and she hopped over it easily. It looked like whatever kinks she had in her system from hanging on the wall had completely vanished. Faith was agile; no that didn't even begin to explain the way that she handled herself. She was more like a force of nature - something beautiful but best viewed from a distance. Faith swung the sword in a downward arch at the tail. It bounced off in a flare of sparks that glowed red and blue.

It turned, snapping its jaw as it whipped its head threateningly. She brought the sword up to block the mouth, but wasn't fast enough. The creature clamped onto her right forearm.

"Fuck," she yelled as the teeth sunk into her flesh.

She raised her left fist and punched hard. Aiming for the right eye, she struck it squarely, the thing squealing like a pig as it was slugged. Her fist was probably the same size as the yellow colored eye and it sunk in with popping gush. Liquid rushed over the edges of its eyelids, and its squeal of pain increased. Faith retracted her arm and pulled part of the eye with it. Her hand was covered with milky white fluid that dripped out of her clenched fist. With a hard shake, she flung the substance onto the ground.

Faith's right arm was bleeding heavily, but she ignored the liquid as it pooled onto the floor. I frowned; it was messing up all of the beautiful artwork that Nutford had designed. I haven't even had the chance to study this one like I'd been able to at all the other crime scenes. Alas, all of his hard work would be messed up and I would never get the time to appreciate it. I wasn't even comforted to know that I had pictures of the previous crime scenes on my office computer for official purposes. And while I would never get to catalog and file pictures from this crime, I would have at least gotten to spend some quality time with the masterpiece. My heart thumped a bit with the pain of my lost.

Faith's foot blocked my view refocusing my attention. She had switched the sword to her left hand to she compensate for her hurt arm sometime while I was mourning. Her right arm was covered in blood and I was almost sure I could see the bone if I looked close enough. The creature was still flailing with pain from and had retreated toward the circle's center.

Faith smiled, reminding me of the predatory look that I see in my reflection before a kill. She stalked closer and the creature took a few steps back. It was weary now that it was wounded. It was trapped. The roles of predator and prey had been precariously reversed. The girl was no longer the easy meal that it had assumed at first glance.

It roared and arched back its neck; a sound that was jarring to my ears. The bristles that ran along the spine ruffled out as it spat a giant glob of goop at her. It was the color of mucus and landed with a flop where she had been standing moments before. Faith barely took a moment to pause before she charged towards the creature's blinded right side. Whirling its head around to compensate for the useless eye, it ruffled its bristles a second time.

"It's going to spit again!" I warned her, watching the thing arch its back.

I'm not sure why I had shouted the warning. It seemed clear who was the dominate in this fight. Despite all the odds, Faith clearly had the upper hand. She knew what she was doing, and it seemed almost silly of me to give her any type of advise.

The creature's mouth was open and only a foot or so away from Faith's face when she struck. Apparently the girl was ambidextrous because she stabbed up with the sword in her left hand. Whatever crap that was about to spew never came forth as the steel embedded into the soft palette of the roof of its mouth. Faith had used such force that the sword gouged all the way through its head. She turned the sword and pulled it out, the wound large and gaping. Bits of what only could be brain (along with a large amount blood) splattered on the floor.

I stared at the masterpiece that was now in a complete state of ruin. It was hard, but I was able to resist yelling at Faith for her lack of carefulness.

The creature thrashed violently, flinging various amounts of brain matter around the room. The ground began to rumble again and this time Faith couldn't keep her footing. She hit the ground hard and the sword clanged next to her. I watched as she tried to scoot away from the thrashing creature.

She had gotten out of the way just in time too, because the creature was just inches away from crushing her as it came crashing down.

Everything went still. Faith's eyes were glued to the monster almost willing it to get back up. The moments turned to minutes and there was no sign that the creature was still alive. As time ticked by, I could feel the slight bit of possible terror lift off of my chest.

Faith gave a loud sigh and collapsed to the floor.

"Just give me a minute," she said as she laid there, closing her eyes and breathing heavily. "It's hard work slaying one of these fuckers."

"Ah, okay," I wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. I haven't killed anything that large before, or with that many glossy teeth. Hell, I had never seen something like it before. Needless to say, I was feeling a bit speechless.

I released my grip on Nutford, but not before I hit him on the head, hard. He slumped over, unconsciousness. Stepping over his flabby body, I noticed that his robe was still open and he was still hard. Disgusting.

I walked over to where Faith was laying and looked down at her. Her eyes were closed, but I knew that she heard my approach. Blood speckled and tainted her face like a macabre stain glass window. Flicks of brain and bone were scattered in her hair.

"That was some good work kid," I said, staring at her war painted face.

"Mmmm," she responded opening her dark eyes. "It felt good."

I stepped back so she could stand up. I would have thought that after a fight like that, she would have been slow to get back onto her feet. But I was wrong, she moved almost as graceful as she did when I first saw her walk. If this is the condition that she was in after being chained up for four days and then fighting some sort of creature from the abyss, I really wanted to see her at the top of her game. Once on her feet again, she kicked the soon to be rotting corpse in the head.

"Damn," she muttered. "I was hoping it was one of those demons that dissolved when they die."

"Demon?" I questioned and looked at the body. I suppose it could be true, but demons just seemed so . . . Illogical… like unicorns, ompa lumpas and the notion that George W. Bush ever had the talent to lead a country.

"You're a newbie?" she asked raising her eyebrows. "And here I thought that you did this for a living."

"Excuse me?"

"You know," she smiled. "A demon hunter. You scour the globe looking for beasties to kill and rights to wrong."

"No, I'm not one of those," I said studying the body. It really was a monster that came from the inner circle of hell. The closer I looked at it, the more I marveled at just how horrifying it looked. A creature of nightmares certainly, one that feed off of children and ate virgins for desert. I didn't even want to think what would have happened if she wasn't here to save my ass. "I'm actually here for Nutford."

It sort of slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

"Nutford?" she turned her head to look at the unconscious man in question. "You a cop or bounty hunter or something? Cause I got to say that I'm impressed. Most people would go running for the high hills after seeing a demon like that."

"I bet," I replied.

We fell into an awkward silence. What exactly does one say at a time like this?

Would she even let me keep my prey?

God, I couldn't even fathom what I would do if she said no. I needed the release after a night like this and if I couldn't get it from Nutford, I would have to go looking someplace else. Someone else. I would have to improvise and I hated not having a plan. Too many things could go wrong.

I wanted Nutford, no I needed Nutford.

The thought of the sweet satisfaction I would get chopping him into little bits made me tremble. The euphoria that would course through my body from wrapping and packaging him neatly into bundles only made me yearn for it more. I turned my attention back to my unconscious quarry. The Dark Passenger was hungry and revolted at the thought of being denied its kill. I could feel him staring out of my eyes - willing to do anything to kept our prize.

My world had just been practically ripped open and I had just found out that I was not the monster waiting under the bed as I had previously thought. No, there were things out there that were even nastier then me. I needed to figure out how I was going to deal with this new revelation on life.

I wanted to deal with this the way that I dealt with my issues the best. Unfortunately, there was an unknown factor keeping me from going to my happy place.

I glanced back at Faith to see her watching me. Her own Dark Passenger had returned to her eyes. Her gaze bore into mine and I could feel a giggle of delight at the creature that stood before me. I resisted the urge to ask her if she wanted to join me in my fun. I had never had a second willing participant in my recreation, after all, my victims didn't count. And after Brian and I had had our differences when it came to killing Deb, it would be thrilling to collaborate with another.

"You know," she said, bringing me out of my thoughts. Her voice was dark and matched her hard eyes. "This isn't the first time I've run across this scumbag. A year and a half ago we busted him in the Twin Cities. We caught him and basically neutered him of all of his magic abilities, tied him up and called the cops. The organization that I work for is not allowed to take any further punishment against humans. Which is what this shit-eater is - a fucking human. But the fucker got off when none of the evidence stuck. And I couldn't to a damn thing about it."

She paused and looked at Harold. Her voice was almost conversational as she continued.

"I was chained to that wall for four days. One of the girls was already dead when I got here, but the other two were in the cell with me. Callie and Elizabeth. Callie and I had to listen to what he did to Elizabeth. The entire time I had to tell Callie that it would be okay. That those who I work for would realize that I was gone and rescue us. For three fucking days I had to lie to the poor girl. But I knew, I knew that it would take at least a week before anyone from the Council to realize that I was gone. But what the fuck was I supposed to do? Let the girl beg and scream and bargain for a release that was never going to happen or give her just a little bit of hope?"

She turned her head to the dead girl in the circle. It must be Callie. I wasn't quite sure where she was going with this little rant to hers, but I wasn't going to stop her from talking.

"He took Callie last night after he got done with work. In the end, I couldn't do a damn thing about it. Not one fucking thing. And now, I'm supposed to call in the Council to clean up the demon bits and leave him to the proper authorities again? He'll just call up his lawyer, again, and weasel his way out . . . again. Not this time."

With her last sentence she turned towards me and at that moment I knew, that she knew. I had recognized her for what she was but it went both ways. She had also recognized me.

"In twenty-four hours I will call this into the Council," she said. "He needs to be dead by that time. If he's dead, no one will go looking for him. They'll just chalk it up to a demon summoning gone wrong."

Did she just give me permission to do what I think she said?

Holy shit I think she did!

"The police will still be called in. Since it's a human crime, they'll have to be. I'm going to have to erase all evidence that I was here. If you give me a lock of your hair, I can have the same thing done for you."

I felt a smile creep onto my face.

"You're welcome to join me if you want," I suggested.

She snorted. "Sorry, dude but I'm going to have to pass. Instead, I think that I'm going to go get trashed. Remember, you've got twenty four-hours."

With that, she walked over to me and kissed me hard on the lips. I wasn't quite sure how to respond. But quickly I realized that it was just a ploy as I felt a small sting on my scalp. She got the hair that she needed and sauntered away. As quickly as my Dark Angel had entered my life, she had disappeared into the night. I sighed at the fact that she had just left me with a bunch of questions and zero answers.

Dexter's dark existence now included demons.

A bit confused and with my mind still in a state of shock, I turned to Nutford. I really didn't know what to think about the fact that demons walked the Earth. Or that apparently she worked for an organization that dealt with them. But I had someone here who could answer all of my questions that she left me with. It would give Mr. Nutford and me something to talk about while I work.

Smiling, I gathered my things and went over to Harold Nutford. It was an exciting night and it was about to get a whole lot better.

A/N: I just want to take the time to thank everyone who read and reviewed. While this fic is finished, I have a feeling that this will become a series of short stories. With that in mind, let me know what you liked, didn't like and what you want to see. Your input will only help in my decisions as to where this will go to next. Until next time, I wish you well in your fic reading.