End of the Bloody Line: Chapter 15
by Niamh
[A/N: Thanks to Blue Irish for letting me play in her place.]
He was trussed up, tied by his hands to the bookshelves that were lining the front of the recently seized magic shop, a minion standing guard over him, watching him intently. His arms ached from their captivity and he could feel the skin tearing away every time he moved, shifting to find a comfortable spot. Giles was trying to keep himself conscious, reciting multiplication tables in his head, those being the only things he could actually remember without taxing his already addled and dazed mind. He shifted his feet, trying to use small movements so that it wouldn’t attract the attention of the minions, his best efforts failed and the minion in front of him snarled, before punching him in his side. The blow was hard enough to bruise but not hard enough to break his ribs, something for which Giles was immediately grateful, because he could feel his empty belly cramping in preparation for voiding itself.
The minion, who looked vaguely familiar, hissed at Giles when the dry heaves became too much, saying, “leave it human. Just don’t do anything stupid to get yourself drained before the mistress returns.”
Mistress.
Oh god. Jenny. Was gone.
One simple word summed it all up, the horrors of the last couple days, and the utter despair of the last couple hours. There was no more Jenny Calendar. Never again would he be able to look into her eyes and see amused affection glittering in the dark chocolate depths. Now the thing that stared back at him was darker, less amused and more detached. Affection was gone and nothing but dark violent desires remained. Bloodlust and disdain. Giles groaned, his heart constricting with pain for what had been lost. The possibilities . . . . the what-ifs clamoring in his head. If he’d only trusted, only believed his Slayer and Jenny. If he’d only listened. This mess was all his fault.
He was struck with the sudden chilling fear that no one, not even Willow was going to come rescue him. Not that he wanted any of the others to put themselves even further into harm’s way. No, Willow needed to stay clear of this, in fact both Willow and Xander needed to stay very far away. Closing his eyes in prayer, beseeching his god, any god that would listen, Giles prayed that the teens would stay away and stay safe.
It was the only hope he allowed himself. The hope that the others would all survive this travesty and that someday they would look back on his memory and not see the bumbling idiot he’d allowed himself to become. Remembering instead the man he’d liked to have been: a trusted guide and mentor.
His breathing broke on a soft sob, thankfully soft enough so that his captor made no note of it, dismissing it as a human weakness. There was a noise at the front door, and the minion’s attention shifted briefly forward, long enough for Giles to take better note of his surroundings. He could barely move his head, his arms were tied up and over the top of the bookshelf, pulled up on either side of him, blocking any but forward vision. Only books were stacked behind him and there was nothing but air near his hands. Nothing against which to loosen the ropes.
Sighing again, fighting back tears, Giles grimly waited for the return of the creature that used to be his Jenny.
@~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~@
Spike walked beside her, watching the stiff set of her shoulders and tried to think of something to say that would calm her nerves. She was nearly running in her haste to rescue the Watcher; Spike knew she was all prepared to go in full bore, without any thought to planning or safety, and that would just get them killed. “Slayer.”
Buffy ignored him, intent on getting to the factory as quickly as possible, unwilling to leave Giles in the hands of Angel and Jenny.
“Slayer.” Spike’s tone got shorter and Buffy finally reacted when he grabbed her arm and pulled her back to look at him. Holding her in place, he growled out, “I’m talkin’ to you, little girl. You’d best listen.”
Her eyes narrowed and she looked like she was going to slug him one, but Spike’s hand tightened on her arm and the look in his eyes was enough to set her back a step. “What is it Spike? We don’t have a whole lot of time here.”
“We have time for this otherwise we won’t make it out of there.” He growled in response, poking a finger in her direction. “You need to listen to me.”
“Make it quick. What is it that’s so damned important right now?” There was a stubborn set look to her cute little face and she looked just like a fierce little tiger cub. It was almost enough to make him soften towards her, but he knew damned well just how sharp this little kitten’s claws were. He also knew how scared she was. He could sense it coming off her in waves and that was the emotion Spike was seeking to control. She needed to lose some of the fear. Fear made you reckless, made you take stupid chances.
“Listen to me, kitten, and listen good. We aren’t going up against two fledges or just any other vamp. This is Angelus and a gypsy vamp. Two things you jus’ don’t wanna face.” Taking a deep breath, hoping she was paying him some attention, Spike said, “We might have to fight our way through some minions as well, before we face either of them. Can’t take the chance of losing each other while we’re fighting. We have to stick close. Not let them get in between us.”
Catching a glimpse of the look on her face, he continued, in a softer tone, “can’t get lost from each other – remember that, yeah? Together we are stronger than they are; just have to stay together. You get that?”
Buffy blew out a breath, refusing to look at him, her eyes shifting off to his left. “I know what I’m doing, Spike, remember? Slayer? One girl in all the world? I can handle this.”
Dropping the axe, Spike grabbed both her shoulders, shaking her a little and forcing her to look up at him. “You don’t know. Yeah, you’re the Slayer, best one I’ve gone up against, but this isn’t what you’ve convinced yourself it might be. Angelus is a right bastard when he wants to be – and even when he’s feelin’ charitable. Which isn’t often at all, he’s not your Angel.“
Her eyes finally met his and she was struck by two things, the anger coupled with concern swirling in the depths of his eyes and the set of his shoulders. She’d only seen him like this on one other occasion and that had been on Halloween, at that precise moment when she came back to herself. Back then the anger was understandable, but it was the concern that had her wigged. Right now it was the other way around.
A shiver ran down her back and Buffy knew that there was more to this than just what he was saying. Before opening her mouth, she thought hard about what he’d just said. “I get you Spike, but really – I know what I’m doing.” She paused a second or two then blurted out, “He’s not my Angel anyway.”
But Spike was shaking his head, his gaze fierce. “No. I don’t think you are gettin’ me. This is not gonna be a walk in the park, little girl. This is Angelus.” Shaking her once more, he said, “an’ not just him. He’s gone and made himself a gypsy vampire. Somethin’ that just isn’t done.”
His tone of voice was like flint shavings against her skin, but something in his demeanor made her pause again and really look at him. There it was again. A different look, something he’d hidden from her until this moment. Searching his eyes again, letting the silence build between them, trying to convey to him wordlessly that she was willing to listen, Buffy saw it again. Spike was afraid. Just what was he afraid of?
“Spike?” Buffy dropped the sword down, letting it clatter to the ground, joining Spike’s hastily dropped axe. “What’s really wrong?”
Sighing loudly, Spike looked away from her, to a point somewhere over her head. He swallowed deeply, preparing to answer her, when she abruptly pulled him down to her lips. “Spike? You know I love you, right?”
Her declaration spurred something, because he looked down into her eyes, his own bright with some emotion she was unwilling to put a name to. Buffy smiled at him, their mouths inches apart and before she could react, he leaned down and stole a fierce kiss. “I love you too, kitten, but I need you to understand something.”
She made a face, and he paused, before looking down again, seeing the flash of disappointment cross her features at his slightly off-hand avowal of love. “Buffy. I love you.”
He waited, watching her emotions flit across her face, and he smiled when she reached up and laced her fingers around his neck. His arms snaked around her and she leaned heavily into his embrace. ‘Now you goin’ to listen to me?”
‘Yeah, I am.” She took a deep breath, breathing in the scent of leather and smoke and whiskey, laced with the other heavier scent that was just him. “Tell me what you want me to know.”
“Gypsies, luv, aren’t supposed to be turned. There’s too much magic in ‘em. ‘S what makes her dangerous. She’ll be able to do stuff we won’t expect.”
Buffy pulled back, a hint of mischief sparkling in her eyes. “Cool Matrix-y stuff? She’ll be able to jump from building to building?” She pouted, realization dawning, then she showed her age by adding in a softly whining voice, “But I’m all super-strong girl, why can’t I do any of that? I wanna jump around like Trinity! Don’t you think I’d look hot in all that leather?”
His growl cut short any further words and he lifted her up, his mouth on hers, his tongue pushing its way into the warm cavern to mate with hers. Buffy wrapped her legs around his waist, holding on, her hands tangled in his hair. His erection was pressed against her sex, aching to enter her, and Spike was lost in her warmth for long moments.
Some sixth sense broke through, pulling his attention away from the vixen in his arms, and Spike had enough time to duck, rolling to the ground with Buffy still in his arms.
@~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~@
“Buffy?” Willow looked up at the stairs from where she was sitting on the couch to see Joyce teetering on the stairs, confusion mixed with pain on her features.
“Hey, Mrs. Summers. You shouldn’t be up.”
Grabbing onto the railing for support, Joyce forced a smile. “Probably not. I’m not feeling so good. “ Looking around, Joyce asked, “where’s Buffy?”
Willow got up from the couch, moving past the front door to get to Joyce. “C’mon Mrs. Summers, let’s get you back to bed and I’ll explain everything, okay?”
@~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~@
Jenny stalked through the streets, noises and scents assaulting her heightened senses, drawing her attention away from her prey. Daina was a faint presence ahead of her, the scent of her fear teasing at the roof of Jenny’s mouth, calling forth her razor sharp teeth. Power surged through her, sparks flashing in her eyes as tiny arcs of energy jumped from her fingertips.
When she’d been alive, breathing anyway, she’d sometimes had glimpses, brief flashes of this connection to the source, this power that was now surging recklessly through her. But now, now this was different. She was the power. It was hers to command, to exploit and use as she deemed best.
Daina stumbled and Jenny sped up a tiny bit, drawing out the other woman’s fear. Her nostrils flared, gathering in as much of the other’s emotions and sensations as she could, reveling in the abject terror running through her body. “Daina, oh Daina. I’m coming. Can’t run from me.”
The whimpers of fear reached her ears, causing a soft chuckle to escape from Jenny’s lips. “Silly woman. Don’t fight.”
She thought for a second, chuckling louder, “On second thought, go ahead. Fight me.”
Scrabbling away on her knees, Daina looked up at the deceptive beauty looming over her. “Please Jenny, don’t do this.”
A vicious laugh sounded in the air around them. “Don’t do what? Play with you?”
The grin got wider and Daina realized there was nothing that was going to save her. “No. Can’t do that. I want to play.”
Jenny reached down, and with one hand around the other woman’s neck, lifted her up, holding her off the ground. The grin on the gypsy vampire’s newly pale features widened and her fangs extended, chocolate eyes lightening to glistening amber. “Oh yeah. Now’s a good time to scream.”
@~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~@
They came to their feet at the end of Spike’s abrupt roll, backs pressed together, watching the small group of vampires circling around them. Most were remnants of the Master’s minions, some had sworn loyalty to Spike after he’d dusted the Anointed One and some hadn’t.
But all of them had groveled to Angelus when he’d appeared with Drusilla at his side.
Aware of his mate pressed against his back Spike counted the numbers against them.
“Think it’s fair?” His tone was conversational, his stance deceptively relaxed.
Buffy, guessing at his game, ticked off the numbers with a shrug. “Dunno.” Then she paused, glancing up at him with innocent eyes. “Gee Spike, if you get all yours, would you help me?”
He laughed gruffly at the helpless little girl voice she was using. “Well, Pet, could maybe see my way to doing that if the reward is sufficient.”
Giggling softly, knowing exactly what she was doing to him, Buffy gasped out, “awww. Spike, you’re soo strong. You’re my hero.”
The vampires surrounding them ranged about seeking any openings in their posture.
“Slayer?”
“Yes Spike?” She could feel his muscles tense and took her cue from his body.
“Ready when you are.”
Sneaking a glance over her shoulder up at him, Buffy smiled into his eyes. Without shifting her eyes away from him, Buffy sucker punched the first vampire on her right, then said, “oops. Guess I’m ready.”
With a noise somewhere between a laugh and a growl, Spike lazily leaned forward into a punch that knocked another vampire on his ass. “Right then.”
Affecting a swagger, Spike grinned widely as he egged them on. “C’mon now, kiddies, step right up.”
Two vampires launched themselves at him and he casually wrenched the first’s arm off, then used it to smack the second in the head.
Buffy was using her slightness and small stature to her advantage, slipping in between the vampires, then staking them as they came at her.
“Someday, Sunshine, I’m goin’ to figure out where in bloody hell you stash those things,” he groused at her, his grin a near leer and the teasing tone he was using sending a shiver down her spine.
Her answering giggle was infectious and she said between punches, “Someday I might let you search.”
He growled again, grinning at the vampires coming at him as they tried to rush him as one. Leaning away from one, Spike threw a left hook that rocked one back so hard he stumbled into another, giving Spike a moment to wrench the head from a third vampire’s shoulders, dusting him instantly.
Buffy, meanwhile, had her hands full as four of them were hemming her in, cutting her off from Spike. She hit one with a flurry of punches and was about to dust it when one of the others grabbed her right arm back, holding her off. Sensing their sudden advantage, two more moved in on her left side, knocking her back, into the arms of yet another vampire. He grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to her torso, not making the mistake of lifting her up and allowing her to use her feet to fight them off. Buffy tried kicking up while attempting to wriggle her way out of the vampire’s embrace. The first vampire, the one she’d been whaling on, began raining a series of blows on her face, knocking her senseless.
Spike’s attention was elsewhere, dispatching the vampires as quickly as he could, trying to maneuver them towards the spot where he and Buffy had dropped the axe and sword. He was turned around, his back to where Buffy was being held when a gasped grunt that sounded off caught his attention.
Whirling around, Spike roared his disapproval and anger to the air. A punch came at him from his right, galvanizing him to action. With a swirl of black leather, he turned on the unfortunate vampire that had just thrown the punch. Snapping its neck, but not removing the head, Spike moved onto the next.
“I’m comin’ Sunshine.”
Buffy wasn’t idle, using the distraction of Spike’s absolute fury to lean back into the minion, head-butting him and simultaneously kicking up with her feet, slamming her foot into the face of the vampire beating on her. His head snapped back, and using that also to her advantage, she tried to flip up and over the head of the one holding her. Anticipating her move, he held on tighter, not allowing her any further movement.
Spike’s fierce growl and low menacing tone rang through the night air. “That’s my mate, you fuckin’ wanker. Best let her go. Now.”
The vampire just laughed, running his fangs along the juncture of Buffy’s shoulder and neck. She stilled, watching as Spike’s entire body tensed, preparing to strike.
The rage filling him, consumed him, and a strange transformation took place, his ridges almost smoothing out as only two razor sharp canines extended further, his eyes bleeding from amber to red. Buffy shivered, feeling her own face begin to change, knowing instinctively what was about to happen next wasn’t going to bode well for the unfortunate vampire holding her captive. In the blink of an eye, Spike struck, raking a hand down the side of the vampire’s head, nearly cleaving it in two.
Buffy shifted away, giving Spike more room to work, her hand coming up to stake one of the others faster than she realized.
@~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~@
The door slammed shut behind her, rattling the windows and nearly causing the rolldown gates to slam shut. Draining Daina hadn’t been nearly as satisfying as she’d thought. The shopkeeper had been so frightened that the moment Jenny sank her fangs into her neck, Daina’s heart had stopped, effectively stealing the kill out from under her. Which just made her temper rise.
Her entrance into the shop galvanized the minions and Giles heard them scurrying about to please their mistress.
There was silence in the shop, leaving Giles to wait, knowing somehow that her first order of business would be to torture him.
His guess proved true when suddenly she was standing in front of him, her fingernails scratching across his face, over his cheekbones. Blood welled along the trails her nails left and Jenny leaned forward, licking over his features, her voice a soft sibilant whisper against his skin. “Miss me Rupert?”
Giles didn’t answer, just gritted his teeth and held his tongue, hoping against hope that she would tire of the game she was planning if he refused to play.
“Oh Rupert. . . the least you can do is pretend.” She licked his face again, tasting the blood and salt on his skin, “tell me you missed me. . tell me you love me.”
She drew back just a little, enough to look deeply into the pain filled eyes of Rupert Giles, “oh Rupert, tell me. . . tell me everything. . . sshhhh. . yes, Rupert. You can’t resist me.”
Raking her nails down his chest, Jenny ripped his shirt to shreds, softly growling and purring as the blood rain in rivulets down his torso.
“Oh Rupert. We are going to have such fun.”
@~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~@
There was no time to react, no time to assimilate what had just happened – one second she was being held by a small circle of vampires and the next Spike had reacted, annihilating the entire group.
Somehow, he had no idea just how, he’d ended up on his knees, chest heaving, drawing in deep unnecessary breaths. Buffy stood a little away from him, her hands at her mouth, her gasps sounding in time with his.
She was shaking, his display touching a chord deep within her and Buffy didn’t know when the tears had started but they ran down her cheeks in a steady stream. Bowing his head a bit, Spike growled low, almost as though he was trying to soothe her. Neither one of them moved for long moments, until Buffy couldn’t stand it any longer; the need to touch him was immediate and overwhelming, welling up from her depths and choking her with its intensity.
A tiny warm hand reached out, stroking across his face before resting in his curls, letting them wrap around her fingers. Choking back a sob, she held him to her belly, drawing comfort from the strong arms that wrapped around her.
“Spike. . . oh god, Spike.” Her voice trailed off into the night, words completely deserting her. No one had ever – she’d never seen anything like him, the grace in his ferocity, his possessiveness and protectiveness overruling every other emotion. He’d seen the threat to her and just reacted.
Feather-light kisses brushed against the soft skin of her belly as he nuzzled against her. His low rumbling growl set off a series of tremors within her muscles and Buffy collapsed against him.
“You’re mine, little girl. Forever. Mine.”
A heated look accompanied his words and Buffy felt her legs falter. “Protect what’s mine. Never let you go.”
Spike surged to his feet, lifting her up in arms flexing with unearthly strength. Grinning up at the start and gasped surprise from his girl, Spike playfully nipped at her belly. Her hissed gasp ended in his name, a fact that just made his grin widen.
“Did you feel tha’, pet? Did you?”
Breathy from the changes in the last two minutes, she whispered, “felt it. Saw it. My god Spike, what the hell just happened?”
Stooping down to retrieve their discarded weapons, Spike nearly dropped her when he shrugged. “Dunno yet, sweets, but whatever it was seems to be a good thing, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she almost giggled at him, tugging on his ear. “Whatever it was, it was way cool in a scary way.”
“All right then, no more dillydallyin’. Let’s go get the Watcher.”
@~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~@
The factory was empty. No minions. No vampires at all. No Jenny. No Angelus. No Watcher.
Spike felt nothing inside, neither alive nor undead, but they entered cautiously anyway. Buffy picked her way through the piles of dust, taking note of how many, Spike barely a step behind her. At the twentieth pile, she stopped, raising an eyebrow in question.
“Dusted. Looks like Angelus had himself a right snit.” Walking past her, he headed right for the room he and Drusilla had shared, uncertain if Angelus had been willing to use it or not.
Buffy’s hand on his arm stopped him, and he was about to snap at her when he saw what had caused her to halt his progress.
Barely visible in the darkness was a softly shimmering light, surrounding a pale ethereal figure. She gasped as the pale form of Drusilla wavered and flickered, trying, it seemed, almost desperately to gain some solidity.
“Daddy’s gone, floated away. . . “ A soft sob seemed to echo through them and the vision was gone, only the disembodied voice remaining. “He’s left on his own journey, will walk no more. . . .”
A soft touch kissed across both their foreheads – a sigh of a touch, a whispered blessing. “His story is done. Angelus reigns no more, brought low by his own creation.”
One more touch, soft as down, brushing over their lips and Drusilla’s voice came from behind them now. “His story is done, yours but barely begun. . . long days ahead once the danger is past. . . . sunshine dawns in the east, coming ‘ere soon. . . what shall you do with the light?”
“Gypsy ones. . . grant wishes. Choose it wisely. . . “ then another, breathy sigh before a quietly murmured, “You are glowing William. . .”
Drusilla’s form flickered into view again and the faint track of tears could be seen on her face.
“My Angel is gone. . . and the Ripper is waking. . . . needs rescuing. Look for him in the place the gypsy knows well.” She paused, looking toward Buffy, “she’ll turn him ‘lest you stop her. . . . she wants a mate. . . and Ripper will be one.”
“Dru?” Spike’s voice was gentle, his hand clutching Buffy’s hard, “Princess, tell us where she’s gone.”
“Nasty shop. All sorts of musty smelly things.” Waving them off, Dru said softly, “Go now. Keep safe.”
Fading away, her touch brushing one last time across both their faces, Drusilla’s spirit placed a kiss against Buffy’s brow, her voice gently reminding her to choose the gypsy gift wisely.
@~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~@
Giles was bleeding, cuts and slashes adorning his chest and abdomen, his trousers in tatters, held onto him only by his belt. Jenny smiled as his head slumped forward wearily, certain he was broken.
“Tell me now, Rupert, how much you love me.”
She waited, expecting his surrender, relishing it. Slowly he lifted his head, angry defiance glistening in his barely-opened eyes. “You are not the woman I miss. She’s gone. You’re just the demon that stole her body.”
Shocked at his defiance, Jenny raked her nails down his face to his chest, digging in hard. She was about to open a vein when a loud commotion sounded at the front wall; a loud roar filling the air and a large dark object crashed through the window, destroying the front wall of the shop.
The car, for that was what had careened into the building, crashed into the bookshelves, knocking Ruper completely free and throwing Jenny against the rear wall.
Looking up from her position slumped against the wall, Jenny watched as two figures appeared on the hood of the vehicle as flames licked along the sides.
A low English voice sounded in the air, his low chuckle raising the hackles on her neck.
“We came for the Watcher.”
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