Mastery
by ComedyofErrors
Chapter 11
Giles stared through the glass at the mummified form that was Xander Harris. Bandages covered every inch that the blankets did not. The boy had been placed immediately in critical condition when they'd arrived at the hospital with his charred body in the back of Oz's van. The burns were extensive. His entire upper body had been singed, down to his waist. The burns ranged from second degree on the torso, to fourth degree at the shoulder blades. Skin had literally slid off below his neck when the orderlies lifted him onto a gurney.
The staff raved that it was a miracle the fire had been put out so quickly. He would probably have lost his facial features if it had continued even a few seconds longer. As it was, he would need reconstructive surgery on his right ear, chest, and certainly the back. When flame thrower tanks explode, the damage is instantaneous. Of course the hospital didn't know it had been a flame-thrower. The remains of the device had been stripped off before the van arrived at the hospital. It was with ease that Ripper thought up the cover story: a hazing effort by the local college that had gone horribly wrong.
They would need to tell Xander the story when he woke up. He'd been mercifully unconscious or in shock since the explosion. He had released an occasional groan, but Giles doubted that he felt anywhere near the pain he would have if he had been awake.
His parents had been contacted. Xander's mother was here now. She had stopped crying, and was sitting patiently by his bedside. Her palm rested on his thigh, because the bandages made it impossible for her to hold his hand. She would need to leave soon, due to ICU regulations. She'd be behind the glass with the rest of them. Mr. Harris was unavailable. He was busy working. When he got off, he'd come over. Neither doubted Giles's story, not with so many witnesses.
Said witnesses were on benches in the waiting room, down the hall. Giles could just see them from his position. Oz as always was stoic and solid. A good support for everyone else, now that the other constant in the group of amateur slayers was lying in the glass room. Explaining the crossbow bolt in his arm had been simple. It was just an accident that happened while he was target shooting. No police report would be filed.
Next to him dozed Willow. She had been suffering from a migraine and spontaneous nose-bleeds since her display in the Mansion. It was nothing Giles had seen since Amy Madison's mother and her black-eyed curse casting. Willow was obviously much more powerful than anyone had suspected. He would begin working on her control and training immediately. That much raw strength needed focus.
Cordelia was often compared to a queen by the children because of her self-important attitude. The comparison seemed accurate to Giles now because of her grace in this harrowing situation. She had fought well, dusting minions without showing fear. She had been determined to see the mission through. When Xander fell, she was shocked, but did not break formation. Someone witnessing the event might have thought her callous and unfeeling. It wasn't so. She was merely restraining her sorrow for the appropriate moment. Not until after she had heard the news of Xander's condition, and comforted Mrs. Harris to the best of her ability, had she allowed her tears to fall. At the moment, she was sobbing with quiet dignity in Joyce's embrace.
Joyce was a fierce woman when crossed. Ripper himself feared to anger her, especially now that she knew how to use a crossbow. He was glad that she'd had that small bit of vengeance this morning against Drusilla. It was fitting that Joyce have the chance to destroy one of her daughter's oppressors with her own hands.
They had all performed admirably. And yet if Drusilla were to be believed, Buffy was still in the clutches of the Order Aurelius.
Spike. William the Bloody. He had taken Buffy out of the Mansion, apparently without Angelus's knowledge. It must have happened the previous night, sometime after the orgy. That would explain Angelus's absence during the raid. His prize had been taken, and he wanted it back.
Giles searched his mind to decide what Spike would want with Buffy. It was obvious that she was a choice trophy. Maybe he still wanted the honor of causing the final death of the slayer. Either way, Buffy was still suffering life as a vampire.
They needed to kill Angelus. They needed to find Spike and probably kill him. God only knew what they needed to do with Buffy.
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Buffy loved this bathroom. It was clean and brightly lit by incandescent bulbs. She had never liked fluorescent lighting because it seemed so institutional. The tiles covering the floor and the walls up to waist height formed a black and white square pattern. The walls were painted red. The cabinets under the sink were white, and the fixtures were silver. The room had a separate shower stall and one of those big tubs with the water jets. She'd have to try that sometime.
It wasn't well equipped. There was some soap, and surprisingly vanilla shampoo. Probably her Sire's doing. She desperately wanted to wax her legs, because even a vampire's hair grew out in a week. Oh well. At least she was clean and dressed in new clothes.
She laid her robe across the edge of the tub and went back into the bedroom. Its supplies were equally sparse. The floor was wooden, with a warm brown varnish on it. The room was large, almost twenty feet on each side, but it contained only three pieces of furniture: a sturdy king-sized four-poster made of a deep cherry colored wood, a matching dresser, and a matching desk. It wasn't much, but it was a good start for their room. Theirs. That sounded nice.
Spike was sitting on the bed when she emerged from the bathroom. She felt almost human again. Well, not human. She felt like herself again; she just wasn't completely certain what 'herself' meant now. It was one of the things she knew she would be discovering in this new home.
Home. She stared into space, not noticing when Spike came to stand beside her. Home last week was with her mom and her friends and her Watcher. Now home was her Sire. Buffy sighed sadly. She'd lost them by being turned. True, they weren't completely beyond her reach. She would probably get in touch with them, find out what had been going on since her death, and learn how to be friends again. But there was a fundamental gulf between them and her created by her vampirism.
They were accustomed to fighting against vampires. Vampires were evil, unless they had a soul. Jesse and Angelus (she didn't believe that she'd ever see him as Angel again) were the proof. Buffy had a soul, at least she was pretty sure she did, but her Sire did not. Her friends would see her Sire as something to be killed, someone to save her from. Buffy saw her Sire as her rescuer, as her friend, and as her companion. He was her family too. It would hurt as much to lose him as it would to lose one of her human family; no, it would hurt even more because of their bond.
She would learn about such things soon. Her friends would finish high school, and then go to college or get jobs. They'd get married and have kids. Buffy, on the other hand, was going to learn how to be a vampire. She would know the most intimate secrets of her kind; things that she could never share with a human. Not because she didn't want to be open and honest, but because they couldn't understand what she was talking about without experiencing it themselves.
Then there was the question of immortality. As a slayer, she had always known that she would die before her friends, and she had. But she was also going to outlive them by decades, as long as she didn't lose a fight. And hey, former slayer with extra vampy strength, not likely to lose. She might live for centuries to come. They would not be there with her. Her Sire would.
She realized he was beside her. Not touching her, but still a reassuring presence. She looked up at him. He had his head tilted to the side, a look of curiosity and mild concern on his face. She was quick to answer his unspoken question. "I was thinking how separate I am from them now. Mom, Giles, Xander, Willow, and everybody. I can't ever really be at home with them again. Because I'm already home here."
Spike wrapped one arm around her back and the other around her waist to draw her close, so that her head rested on his shoulder. She toyed idly with the red over shirt he was wearing. "I'm glad you can say that, kitten. I was scared you'd try to deny it, try to go back to them. But like I said, you're a smart girl."
"It'd be silly, trying to hold on. It wouldn't work."
"Doesn't mean it hasn't been tried." She looked at him questioningly. "Vampires trying to hang on to what they used to have. I did." He sighed. "But that's a story for another time."
A low rumble from inside him met Buffy's ears. She giggled. "I think your stomach is trying to tell us something." She pulled away enough to look into his face.
"Then let's get downstairs and do something about it." He dropped his arms from her body, but took hold of her hand, so that he could lead her.
A little side corridor led to the stairs out of the loft. They were wooden, with no railing on the drop off side. Except for the little part hidden by the loft walls, the whole stairway could be seen from the rooms below. Buffy walked on the outside edge, and peered down at the front door and the living room. The entryway had black slate tile that ran past the foot of the stairs into another room, while the living room had the same wooden flooring as the loft. The living room had a large stone fireplace, but there wasn't a single piece of furniture in it. All the walls except those in the bathroom were white. Another set of stairs right next to the ones she was on ran down from the living room to the basement.
Buffy watched Spike walk as they descended. His movements were slow and cautious. He didn't shake, but he lacked that powerful stride he'd had when he first came to Sunnydale. It was going to take a few minutes for him to get down to the first floor. She had assumed last night that staying in the wheelchair was a way to trick Angelus. It was, in part, but it was obvious that he was far from well. He probably liked the climb to the loft room, because it proved he was making progress. "Sire, how long have you been walking?"
"Started the day before you arrived at the Mansion, after the minions were finally able to bring me some decent blood."
"When I first saw you at the Mansion, while Angelus and Dru were..." She trailed off. The memory was raw enough for both of them without reliving it now. "I thought you looked like you hadn't fed in weeks."
He sighed. "Fairly true. The minions you're about to meet smuggled a little animal blood in when they could get away with it. Some old human stuff from the hospital too. Angelus wanted to keep me weak, never did like competition you see, so he forbid anyone to bring me food. Most of the minions at the Mansion obeyed him, 'cause he's the highest in our bloodline left in Sunnydale."
Buffy frowned. "But what about Dru? You're her childe." She couldn't believe that Dru would be so cruel as to leave him hungry. He loved her. But then of course, she was also cheating on him at the same time.
He smiled ruefully. "Dru. Poor thing didn't usually know what day it was. Didn't bring me much blood before Angelus showed up. Brought me a puppy once. Couldn't bring myself to eat it. Had Chris take it away. She barely made decisions on her own. If Daddy said something, it was law. She obeyed him like no other. He made her. Tortured her into insanity."
Buffy shivered. "He killed her family, didn't he?" Spike nodded. "Will he try to kill my mom and Giles?"
No use trying to deny it. "Yes, luv, he will. And us. But we're safe here for a while. And they can take care of themselves. I had the minions check 'em out this last week, see what they'd been doing. They were training up, even your mum. She takes to slayin' like a vamp to blood, they said. Right good shot with her crossbow."
Buffy smiled. "I always thought Mom would've been a good slayer. Especially after she hit you with that axe."
He looked at her in mock outrage. "Now that bloody hurt! 'Course I'm kinda glad I didn't get to kill you. Like havin' you here with me." She stared at him in surprise. He looked away, berating himself for being such a sentimental poof.
He looked so shy! Like he'd just told her he had a crush on her. He really had though, hadn't he? She looked down at the steps. "I like being here with you, too." She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. It was his turn to be surprised. He smiled warmly. Buffy felt like blushing. She decided to change the subject. "So who's with my mom? Giles?"
"Watcher's been the one in charge. Scary bloke he is, for a human."
"He used to be into a bunch of black magic and demon possession stuff in like the 70's. You remember Halloween? That was done by one of his old buddies."
"That was a fun night." She glowered at him in disapproval. He smirked. "Well, fun for me. There's a dark headed whelp they call Xander, quite the shot himself. Takes after the Watcher. Little red-headed witch, too. Been levitating stakes. Witch had got herself a short little werewolf, just about her size. Another girl, brown hair. Cheerleader, apparently."
"Cordelia?!" Buffy laughed. "Cordelia as a warrior. You know, in some twisted way that makes sense to me. Crazy. So what are they getting ready for?"
Spike didn't answer immediately. "This morning."
Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"They raided the Mansion, trying to take out Angelus. They figure you were vamped, want some revenge for that." He wasn't about to tell her that the Watcher planned on putting her down if he found her.
"Did they succeed?" She asked earnestly. "Did they get him?"
"No. Not him." His voice choked a little.
Buffy understood. Her eyes teared up. "Oh Sire." They'd reached the bottom of the stairs by now. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, trying to offer a little comfort. He leaned into her a bit, and she took on some of his weight as he returned the hug. She was already very attached to him. Her Sire. If she lost him she didn't know what she'd do. He'd known Dru for more than a hundred years. They'd been lovers almost all that time. The loss must have been hard on him.
Spike sighed. "It's okay pet. She'll be happier now." He pulled away. "Come on luv. Time for you to meet the others."
He led her to the left along the slate tile, into a dining room. There was a single man sitting on the left side of a long mission style dining table. He appeared to be about twenty-five. He was slim and wiry looking. His hair was an unnaturally bright orange, like a popsicle. It stood straight up on top of his head, and bushed out slightly over his ears. His ears were a little pointed, if she looked closely. He had a thin neck, and a pointed chin. His eyes were a very light green, almost a yellow. She sniffed the air. Two weeks ago she wouldn't have thought anything about him if she saw him on the street. He looked human. But he didn't smell like it. She edged a little nearer to Spike.
Spike noticed her wariness, pleased by her caution. So she could smell that he wasn't what he looked like? Good for her. The half-B'aste had noticed them and now stood respectfully beside the table. "Buffy, this is Nara-ste Morlan James." The man smiled warmly. "He is our servant."
Buffy watched as the odd man continued to smile and walked over toward her. He extended his hand and she shook it. He had a heartbeat, and he didn't smell bad, just different. She unconsciously cocked her head to the side. "You aren't human. And you're not a vampire."
"No, I wouldn't be much use if I were a vampire. I'm half-human, half-B'aste."
Buffy felt her eyes widen. "I didn't know there were half-demons, Mr., um..." She was embarrassed, but he had a really long name.
He smiled benevolently again. "Call me Morrie. Half-demons are more common than people realize. We just hide better than the real thing. My mother Nara is the leader of the B'aste in Sunnydale. We're a kind of merchant demon. We help demons and humans interact successfully when we can. And we help our allies." He cast a look at Spike.
Spike saw Buffy's confusion. "I did a few favors for Nara when I first came to Sunnydale. Morrie's living here so that other vampires would need an invite from him if they wanted to get in. And he works a little mojo; enough to keep locator spells from finding us. We'll probably put up a few more wards in the next couple of days, to give us an idea when Angelus is about." Buffy nodded in understanding.
"I'm also the one who buys blood and furniture. Using Master Spike's money, of course."
"You have money?"
"Sure pet. Managed to save a little in the last century or so. Enough to get me around the world, and get me things I need."
"Where do you bank? I mean, aren't they suspicious that you look like a fifth your age?"
"There are demon banks. Fair number of them run by the B'aste, actually."
"Oh." Buffy's head was beginning to spin. Well, she wanted to learn, might as well get used to it. And this was only the first day. She heard Spike give a command to Morrie to fetch the minions. Apparently they lived downstairs. Spike maneuvered her to a seat near the head of the table. She insisted that he go get himself some blood when his stomach complained loudly again. She really needed to start drinking the bagged stuff. He needed time to heal, and feeding her just cut down on the reserves he had to heal with. She felt a little disappointed at the thought that she wasn't going to get to drink from him for a while. She really liked it.
So Spike was rich. He had to have more than a little if he was able to get this place on such short notice. It wasn't a Mansion, but it was a lot more than anyone else she knew could afford. He could have gone anywhere in the world once he left Angelus if he wanted to. Why had he stayed here where it was dangerous? The answer flashed into her mind, shocking her. Spike had done it for her. His childe. He knew that she needed to be here. That she wasn't ready to leave yet. That was one of the kindest things anyone had ever done for her. He didn't have to do it; he was her Sire, he could have ordered her to go with him, and she would have. He really did care a lot for her.
She cared a lot about him too. And not just because he was now her Yoda. She smiled. Xander had told her about that surreal moment when Spike called Angelus that. She didn't think Spike'd mind if she borrowed his line.
She heard movement from the front of the house. Someone was coming up from the basement. Five someones. She could separate the sounds of their footsteps in her mind. The first to enter was Morrie. He sat down at his original seat, on the opposite side of the table, but farther down than her from the head chair. She knew instinctively that the place of authority belonged to Spike.
Next to enter was a woman with a firm step. She was about 5'6'', had shoulder length brown hair, and dark brown eyes. Her oval face looked friendly. Buffy thought she looked thirty. She couldn't be too much older than that if it was Spike that had made her. The easy stride that followed her belonged to a tall man, at least six feet, broad shoulders, also brown haired but with blue eyes. He was a bit younger, maybe still in his late twenties. They sat on Buffy's side of the table, the woman one seat down and the man on the other side.
Next came another man, about Spike's height with straw colored hair. He had green eyes and a fast step. He sat one seat down from Morrie. Last came a boy, about twenty, with sandy hair and brown eyes. He walked slowly, and yawned as he sat down next to the second man.
It was all very precise, as though they knew their places in this small society perfectly. Buffy guessed it was kind of like queens and kings. The important servants sit nearest. Morrie probably got to be closest because he was an ally. He probably got paid. That meant the chief minion was the woman to Buffy's right. She might be oldest, or just the one Spike liked best. The boy was obviously the youngest, probably turned just before Spike was injured. Buffy was sitting right next to Spike, on his right, without a seat between them. Did that make her queen? Wouldn't Cordelia be jealous. Except for the whole vampire thing.
Spike returned, carrying two mugs of blood and a coffee carafe that Buffy figured didn't contain coffee. He set one mug in front of himself, and one in front of her, and filled them both with blood from the carafe. He took a long swallow, and she followed suit. It tasted icky. Especially when the only thing she'd ever drunk was Sire's blood. Oh well. She'd just have to get used to it.
Spike looked at the demons assembled at the table. All loyal, all his. He felt a sudden sense of belonging. It was an unusual feeling for him. Time to introduce everyone. He placed a hand on Buffy's shoulder, and addressed the others. "This is my Childe, Buffy. Serve her as you serve me." Buffy's eyes widened to saucer stage. Spike knew she'd never had servants before. "Buffy, you can ask anything of these beings and they will give you an honest answer. They will be happy to help you or show you anything. Do you have anything you'd like to ask them now?"
Buffy swallowed. "Could you tell me your names?"
Spike smiled into his blood. "Morrie you know." He gestured to the minions. "Introduce yourselves."
"I'm Alexa," the woman said. "I'm the eldest, and chief minion."
"You helped with me after..."
Alexa nodded. "Yes. I also got you some clothing and supplies. Is there anything else you need? I'm going out for more supplies tonight."
"I have a couple of things. A list, actually. You don't mind?"
Alexa smiled. The Master's childe was young indeed. "No. I'd be happy to."
"I'm Jacob." Alexa's friend said.
"I'm Chris." Straw-hair.
"Ryan," said the young minion sleepily.
Buffy smiled back at them. "It's very nice to meet you all." She looked at Spike. "So if I'd like anything I just ask?" He nodded. She took a deep breath. "Okay. Who handles furniture?"
They all laughed, and Morrie raised his hand.
*****
Thanks to everyone who continues to review! I hope you continue to enjoy.
Thanks to Linda, my new Beta.
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