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Chapter 48

Buffy eyed the proceedings with cool detachment. They’d become more frequent in the recent months and she had to wonder if the latest uprising within the clan wasn’t what Doyle had eluded to all those years ago. She could feel the agitation of the vampire seated beside her and placed a discreet hand on his thigh. His outward demeanor didn’t change – he still bore the face of his demon as he glared at the latest perpetrator – but she could feel the subtle easing in his body.

Right now, he wanted to rip and tear at the fledge that had dared to feed so openly. And not even from someone that wouldn’t be missed – the vamp had drained the only daughter of a lesser nobleman. One due to be married in the coming weeks. An event that she and Spike were supposed to attend, but had declined since they were due to travel to Paris next week for an extended visit.

Clayton had been the one to stumble across the body, and after quickly hiding the evidence, had set out after the fledge who’d seemed to be on a feeding streak throughout the city. Her friend had found the vampire easily enough, the bodies left in his wake providing a trail the simplest of humans could find. Clayton had drained the careless vamp to incapacitation levels and left him bound and hidden out of sight, then spent the next few hours disposing of the bodies. It was nearing sunup when he’d finally brought the vampire to Whitt’s and left it for the clan to decide his fate.

“Stake him.”

The words brought Buffy out of her reverie and she and the others seated along the table on either side of her nodded their agreement to Spike’s verdict. The vampire had jeopardized the clan. The penalty was death.

Chained to an unbreakable ring in the stone floor, the vampire sentenced to die hissed and cursed, baring fangs to the two that moved in with wooden stakes to see the sentence carried out. A few minutes later, it was over, the vampire’s dust floating to the floor causing the chains to clank against the ground.

Now that the distasteful task of seeing to the disposition of one of their own had been concluded, the clan’s interest perked up. As the two human males were led into the room, it took all Buffy had for her to remain seated and not jump over the table. This time it was Spike that soothed her.

‘Justice, Buffy. Not vengeance,’ she fervently reminded herself. It didn’t work. She knew this was going to be personal. It had become personal the moment they’d dared to touch Celeste. She’d seen the battered and broken body of Marcus’ sister. Had comforted the distraught vampire while the others had hunted for the person that had killed her.

Angelina had been at the front of the pack, the young vampiress had wanted to gift her mate with the human that thought he could kill the sister of a Duke and get away with it.

Buffy’s eyes shifted from the hulking man in front to the smaller, softer male behind him. Celeste’s husband. The man that thought he could kill off his wife and her brother, then lay claim to the Dukedom through their sixteen-year-old son. He’d soon seen the error of his ways when he’d been thrown to the floor at the Duke’s feet by Angelina and had lifted his eyes and taken in the true countenance of the man he’d tried to kill. His bravado had left him then, urinating on himself as he witnessed the ridged brow and fangs staring stonily down at him. The begging had begun, but to no avail.

It had been Angelina that had discovered the man’s plot, intimidating the one that had actually done the deed until he’d been babbling like a baby and confessing to a multitude of other crimes. Crimes that Celeste’s husband had had him commit.

She could feel the restlessness of the others and knew that all hell was going to break loose in a moment. And, unlike before where she’d normally sat back and observed with impassive eyes…this time…this time she wanted so much to be a part of it.

A silence seemed to descend over the room.

At some unseen signal from Spike, Marcus attacked. He leapt over the table, claws and fangs barred, a snarl escaping his mouth. The others were right behind him.

Buffy watched the proceedings with a smile on her face. As the two humans’ blood was spilled, she couldn’t help thinking about the first time she’d observed Aurelian justice.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy knew she was probably breaking several of the bones in Byron’s hand, but couldn’t bring herself to stop. They were all looking at her. Every single vampire standing in the clearing. Her nervousness grew to near-epic proportions, the anger she’d been feeling towards her husband as she’d ridden hell bent on the back of her mare washed away as everyone’s attention centered on her.

She opened her mouth to say something, anything…but her eyes locked with those of the bound humans staring at her so helplessly. Her grip on Byron’s hand tightened even more, and this time she could hear one of the bones snap. The vampire, bless his heart, didn’t even flinch. Just watched the others watching her… as she continued to watch the humans.

‘You can do this, Buffy.’

She could feel herself wavering, her Slayer instincts rearing their head in the face of all the vampires present.

“They killed her without remorse. Just yanked her out of her carriage and into the burning sunlight. They probably spent the next several hours drinking…off the money they stole from her.”

The words were for her alone. Byron didn’t look at her as he reminded her why she was here, not wanting the others to see her brief lapse.

She nodded once to let him know that she heard, steeling her heart and glaring at the three humans. Giving the vampire by her side a quick squeeze to his hand, she released it and crossed her arms over her chest, shifting her body so that she would be looking straight at Spike.

“Sorry I’m late, husband. Seems someone took the carriage and then forgot to leave me directions…”

Renee laughed outright. The majority of the other assembled vampires – those not within their inner circle – eyed Buffy and the vampiress with a mixture of confusion and fear. Fear on her behalf that she’d speak so boldly to the master vampire, even if he were her husband.

“…but please. Don’t let me hold you up any more.” She gifted her husband with a feigned smile and waited to see what he’d do.

“You heard the lady,” Spike told the group.

His words had the desired affect. Conversation ceased. Everyone’s attention returned to the three chained humans that cowered near a hedge as the master vampire stepped away from Clayton and Joseph and moved towards them.

Where the officious-sounding words came from, Buffy didn’t know. But, Spike seemed to be reciting text long memorized as he charged the assembled humans with crimes against the Aurelian clan. It was a scene straight out of a courtroom drama, but with the obvious deviances. For one thing, there was no jury, just a group full of angry executioners. For another, there was no innocent plea – they’d been found guilty and the “hearing” was just a formality before the sentencing phase proceeded.

Buffy watched it all without flinching. Some sort of morbid fascination made her unable to turn away as the men were bandied about amongst the vampires, their blood slowly drained amidst their cries and pleas while they begged for mercy.

When the last body fell to the ground unmoving, Buffy quietly slipped away as the mood of the group changed. Fresh off the high of blood from the source, it would be a while before the revelry wound down.

She didn’t need to watch this. She’d seen what she’d needed to see. Had actually done nothing to stop their form of justice.

He was there before her legs gave out, sweeping her up into his arms and striding back towards Byron’s home.

“You did fine, luv,” Spike whispered against her ear as she clung to his neck. It seemed to be all the impetus she needed. She couldn’t even say why she cried, those men had definitely deserved their fate. Maybe it was the lack of guilt she felt at doing nothing. Perhaps it was the way Spike held her in his arms, more comforting than sexual, like he knew how hard it had been for her, seeing beneath her show of bravado in front of the others to the conflicted Slayer she was trying desperately to hide.

Her tears fell silently down her face as Spike moved down the hall on the way to the room he’d been given. He didn’t say a word as she thoroughly soaked the front of his shirt, just held her close and kept on walking.

“I love you, Spike,” she mumbled into his chest once they reached the room they’d been given.

Spike brushed a kiss across her forehead and said nothing. The door opened and Travis stood back to allow them to enter.

“Will there be anything else, M’lord?”

“No. Thank you, Travis.”

Travis bowed out of the room and Spike closed the distance to the bed and set the Slayer on top of the covers. It was still early yet, and he had every intention of putting Buffy to bed and returning to the others, but one look at her face stopped him cold.

“Make me forget,” she whispered.

It was a long while before either of them slept, and as Spike pulled the Slayer close, he pushed aside the thought that she was wrapping him around her little finger.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike had just wiped the blood off of his mouth when Buffy threw herself at him. Her legs locked around his lean hips, holding her body in place, and her lips fused with his as she thrust her tongue in his mouth, for once dominating their foreplay. It didn’t last long, however, cutting herself on one of his protruding fangs as she did, her Slayer-enriched blood filled his mouth.

He growled then, fisting his hand in her hair and yanking her lips away, exposing the smooth column of her throat. Spike struck before he could think the matter through, burying his fangs in her neck and drinking deeply of her blood. His eyes rolled back into his head as her sweet elixir washed over his tongue, his muffled growl when she ground herself against his erection obliterated by the goings on in the room. He felt fingers at the fastenings of his trousers and he did an about face and made for his room.

Barely ten paces out the door, he felt the cool air caress his cock. He picked up his pace to try to reach their room, only to stop a moment later as he felt the head of his shaft nudge at her opening. The chit hadn’t worn her knickers!

He groaned as she slid down on his length, encasing him with her molten heat, and he thought, ‘Screw the bedroom!’

“Fuck, woman!” Spike cried out, tearing his mouth from her throat.

Spike turned and slammed her back up against the wall, grinding his hips into her. The force sent a portrait clattering to the ground, but neither one noticed nor cared. He pounded into her, his grip bruising on her hips as he held her in place.

Buffy thrilled at his rough treatment, secretly pleased that she was making him lose it so completely. Hard, fast, and wild – he took her there against the wall. Anyone could walk by, and it just heightened the experience. Made her want more. Her nails scored his back beneath his shirt, knowing the effect it would have on him. How the scent of his own blood would drive him over the edge. His sharpened canines found a new home on the opposite side of her neck and the first pull of her blood into his mouth sent her spiraling into orgasm. Her fingers glided down his lower back and gripped his ass. Marveling at the way his gluteal muscles rippled as he continued to pump his hips while he rode out her orgasm.

Spike gritted his teeth, the Slayer’s vaginal muscles contracting so enticingly around his cock, her blood filling his mouth and threatening his own climax. When she went boneless in his arms, he released her neck and lapped sloppily at the wound, pivoting on his heel and continuing his journey to their room. The door stood open and he stepped over the threshold and kicked it shut behind them.

He went straight to the bed, though he knew with certainty that they’d be making their way around the room tonight. There was an air about the Slayer; he could sense the barely leashed violence in her and licked his lips in anticipation. It had been a long while since he’d been able to play like this. He could feel himself swelling even more inside the Slayer at the thought, and heard her moan in bliss when she felt it too.

The top of the mattress stood nearly waist high, and he lowered the Slayer’s upper body down onto it. Before she had a chance to comment on his not joining her, he dragged her ass off of the mattress and began thrusting into her willing body. The position enabled him to fuck her with minimal stimulation so that he could get himself off rather quickly, which he did. Flooding her channel with his release minutes later.

He heard her groan in disappointment as his movements stilled and couldn’t help smirking. Pulling out of her when she tried to grind herself him to seek relief.

“Ah, ah, ahhh, Slayer,” he chuckled. “Do I need to get the restraints?”

He could smell her arousal, but the willful expression in her eyes decided him.

“Restraints it is, then…and don’t think of getting off that bed, or you’ll not like what’s going to happen.”

Well, she would... and she knew it too. For no sooner had he turned away towards the dresser that she’d jumped off the bed and made a run for it. He grinned and took off after her.

The chase was on and it would be a while before either of them slept.

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