Midnight in the Garden of Evil
Chapter 16
~*~*~*~*~
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me
burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my
window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;-
'Tis the wind and nothing more."
Edgar Allen Poe
The Raven
~*~*~*~*~
“Ripper! You
in here?”
Spike snarled when he saw the destruction of his lair.
It reeked of Angelus. He
glanced at the woman huddled against the wall, her white shirt all bloodied from
a ragged gash on her neck. Angelus.
Messing where he shouldn’t.
“RIPPER!”
“Yes, Spike?” Ripper
strolled nonchalantly into the room adjusting the cuffs on his blue silk shirt
as he walked.
“You see this? What
happened here?”
“I really don’t know.
I was…occupied. Maybe we
should ask Jenny here. Looks like
she’s been a bit busy too.”
Ripper crouched in front of the terrified woman, reaching
out a hand to cradle her face. Her
breathy whimpers were extremely arousing and despite the hours he’d spent on
Willow’s tutelage, he was hard again and ready. Giles had been sniffing around her for months now, too scared
to even cop a feel and here she was – bound, petrified, clothes delectably
disarrayed where Angelus had no doubt pawed at her with his meaty hands.
Her neck was butchered by a savage bite and she looked half-crazed with
hunger and thirst. True, she could
do with a shower but Eyghon wasn’t that particular.
He just liked them helpless and crying.
He switched to Giles, easily slipping into the cultured
tones of the librarian, speaking softly to the hunched figure.
“Oh Jenny… Jenny darling, it’s okay, I’ve got you
now.”
Tear-filled eyes were turned on him.
She focused on what she wanted to see, ignoring the evidence of her eyes
and the danger her brain was trying to warn her about.
“R...Rupert? Is
it you?”
“Yes – it’s me.
I’m here. Are you hurt?”
A sob was quickly swallowed. “It was Angel… no, not Angel – Angelus. Oh Rupert, Angelus is back – we’ve got to warn Buffy…
the kids.”
Jenny looked around in panic, trying to scramble to her
feet. Her legs were too
weak and she sagged back down to the floor with a sob.
Ripper reached to brush the dirty, lank hair from her face and spoke
softly.
“Tell me, Jenny - tell me what that beast did to you.”
“Oh, Rupert! He…
he said he was going to rape me… then he was on me and somehow he bit me… I
don’t know I’m so confused….”
“The swine! Can
you stand, dear?”
She nodded weakly, and with his help managed to lean back
against the wall. Ripper slowly
inched forwards so that they almost touched.
So far she wasn’t reacting to him, not putting two and two together.
Ripper heard soft giggles and whispers between Spike and
Buffy. Ah, they’d figured out
what he was doing. This was going
to be sweet. He sensed them moving
round to get a better view. Jenny
was slumped against the wall, head bowed and breathing raggedly. Slowly, oh so slowly, he moved forwards further until he felt
the heat of her body through her torn clothing.
He deliberately pressed himself against her, spreading her legs with his
knees so that he could settle between them.
Jenny trusted him not to hurt her and didn’t even flinch when he tilted
his hips so as to ‘accidentally’ brush her mound with his erection.
Simple, naïve fool. How
could he have ever fancied such a weakling?
Tiring of the game, he snarled and dipped his head to seek
out her mouth with his own. He
pressed himself harder against her, stifling her burgeoning cries of distress as
he bit at her lips. Jenny’s fists
flailed against his chest, his shoulders, as she tried to squirm out of his
grasp. Ripper wasn’t about to let
that happen and gripped her arms tightly to stop the assault.
When her struggles stopped, he released her lips allowing her to gasp air
into her tortured lungs.
“Was it anything like that?”
Jenny Calendar was almost broken, her eyes glazed and
unfocused, her body shaking.
“What… what are you… please, you have to help
me…”
“Yes… in a bit of a pickle, aren’t you?
Don’t worry, Jenny, I intend to help you.
I’m going to help you loose the fetters of your pathetic frame.
Soon you’ll beg me to end your miserable existence.
And maybe I will…”
A whisper. “Rupert?”
“Not really, or rather – not just Rupert.
I’ve traded up; I’d like you to meet Eyghon.”
His eyes flashed red then and Jenny screamed until she
passed out.
“Stupid bitch! WAKE
UP!”
He slapped her across her face, her head snapping back to
hit the wall. Frustrated when she
remained unconscious he shoved her away from him to slide down to the floor.
“Yeah – that’ll do the trick. Patience, Ripper.
Thought you’d know torture’s best taken slow. If they pass out, you’re moving too fast.
Give her a minute or two to come round, maybe a sip of water and a crust
of bread then try again. Give you a
few pointers if you like; I know a fair bit about the subject after all, been
giving and taking it for over a century.”
“I think, Spike, that I can happily handle this
particular task myself. Don’t you
have anywhere to be? Such as out
tracking Angelus?”
You knew about Angelus?
And you didn’t tell me?” Spike
angrily lit a cigarette, dragging the smoke deep into his lungs.
“What are you playing at, you bastard?
Just bumped into Peaches as a matter of fact - and his little lapdog.
Poofter hasn’t changed, still a sorry sod prancing around like he’s
master of the bloody universe. Tried
to dust me and make a move on my bird.”
“And?”
“And… he didn’t, did he?
As can be seen with yours truly standing here.”
“So I take it Angelus is blowing in the wind then?
And Xander?”
“Nah, just knocked him out with half a tree.
What? He’s my grandsire,
man! I can’t just off him like
that. Now Angel… yeah, no problem
there. But Angelus…h e was my
mentor, he taught me the beauty of a drawn out death instead of my usual bite
and drain. I owe him.
Wasn’t him that dusted Dru, it was that souled up nonce Angel.”
“So what? All
we need is him out of the picture.”
“Yeah, and it’s done.
Told the whelp to take him away, said if I saw him again I’d stake
him.”
“Oh marvelous – Angelus must be quaking in his
boots!”
“Piss off! I
do what I want when I want. Just
because we’re best friends now doesn’t mean you make the rules. I’m going along with this for as long as it suits; the
minute it doesn’t, Ripper, watch out.”
Spike and Ripper were toe-to-toe, waves of loathing and
distrust coming off them. Buffy’s
eyes glinted with excitement as her demon fed on the angst in the room.
Spike sensed her mounting arousal and broke off eye contact with the
other man; the pissing contest could wait – Buffy’s delectable pussy
couldn’t.
With a swagger that belied his annoyance, he grasped
Buffy’s hand in his and dragged her off to their room.
“We’ll leave you to it then. Give
us a shout when you’re ready to move out. Just don’t make it too soon, yeah?”
Buffy and Spike’s laughter drifted back as they
disappeared from view. Ripper
scowled at their departing backs, turning to check on whether the teacher had
regained consciousness. She was
still out cold. God, this was
boring. Willow was back in the
bedroom… but no. He had to tidy
up the loose ends. It was time to
leave the Hellmouth, get to England and set things in motion.
He’d toyed with the idea of keeping Jenny, just to play
with. But if he did, there’d be
all the hassle transporting her. She’d
have to be drugged and then she’d be like a zombie, no resistance.
And where’s the fun in that?
Suddenly he had a mental image of a fragrant ash-blonde.
There’s a thought. She’d
be vulnerable and needy, no doubt about it -- and worried about her missing
daughter. Pile on the guilt and self-recrimination for an hour or two,
and if he could offer a manly shoulder for comfort… a bit of touchy-feely
might not be out of the question.
As Jenny began to stir, he made a decision. Really, looking
at the wreck huddled in a stinking heap on the floor there was no choice at all.
Time to move on.
Ripper scanned the interior, his eyes lighting on the
ceremonial dagger that Willow had used to release the dark magicks.
He picked it up, weighing it in his left hand and considering the best
way to proceed. Something gory.
Plenty of blood. Eyghon
liked blood.
He roughly hauled the almost insane woman to her feet, the
stench from her filth delighting the demon but disgusting the man.
No, he didn’t want to touch this thing.
He grabbed her chin loosely in his right hand to raise her eyes to meet
his. Looking steadily into her
suddenly lucid eyes, Ripper brought the knife across her throat in a firm sweep,
the blue of his shirt instantly splattered with Jenny’s lifeblood as she
gurgled out her last breath. Releasing
her, the body thudded to the floor, blood pooling around her face with its
unseeing, empty eyes.
He stripped off the ruined shirt and tossed it on top of
her corpse, Ripper strolled off to find a replacement, whistling to himself.
~*~*~*~*~
Buffy was tied firmly to the headboard, both hands together
and around a post, naked, kneeling facing away from Spike who was still fully
clothed. In the grip of arousal,
her demon would not be restrained and she wore her game face, rasping her fangs
with her wet, pink tongue.
Spike watched her lazily from his seated position, her pert
bum raised as she leant forwards to rest her head on her tethered hands.
The light from the nightstand outlined her open legs in silhouette, her
dark curls clearly visible from Spike’s viewpoint.
He fancied he could see the moisture gathering at her opening and
trickling on her thigh. His hands
moved down his body, gently sweeping his taut nipples through the cloth of his
shirt before deftly undoing the button and zipper to his fly.
He toed off his boots, one hand gripping his stiff shaft through the open
fly, squeezing himself almost painfully. With
the other hand he gently caressed his balls, all the while his eyes locked on
Buffy’s gleaming body.
Buffy looked over her shoulder, her blonde hair cascading
down her back, glowing eyes widening in appreciation of the sight of her
lover’s hand stroking up and down his cock.
She licked her lips, catching her tongue on a fang and slowly swayed her
ass at him. In an instant Spike was
on his feet and his jeans were kicked off.
The black shirt flew after them and then he was naked, his erect cock
jutting from the dark curls at its base. Buffy
started panting in raw lust as she watched him prowl towards her, his left hand
slowly stroking his dick, his tongue sweeping out to moisten his lips before
curling behind his teeth. He
stopped, inches from the bed, hand stilled.
Buffy keened, arched her back so that her butt stuck up
further into the air and exposed more of her moist entrance.
She pulled repeatedly at her tethers, but they’d been tied by a vampire
and would hold.
Aching for some control, she begged; “Spike!
Please, Sire… my hands… please…”
Spike’s game face descended, every sense enhanced by the
demon’s mastery of his body. Vampire eyes took in his childe, her body strung
tight with tension as she pleaded for his touch.
This was what the last hundred years should have been like
instead of being second, sometimes third, in the queue to Angelus with Dru.
Buffy was his and his alone. She
wanted only him, craved only him. Truth
be told, he craved only her. He
mourned Dru, but he didn’t miss her. Another
filled his heart.
With a roar of pure animal need, Spike launched himself at
the bed, grabbing Buffy’s hips in a bruising grip as he thrust himself inside
her to the hilt. He delighted in
her cry of pain as he stretched her without mercy.
This was nirvana. Her
whimpers, laced with the scent of her arousal, hit him right in the groin and he
struggled to contain his ejaculation, stilling his thrusts as he leant forwards
to lay his body against her back, sinking his fangs into her shoulder blade.
Her blood flooded his system and he felt her orgasm build when his
suckling became intense.
The second her muscles began clenching his cock, he shot
spurts of milky semen deep inside her, his hands gripping her hips so hard his
nails drew blood.
In the lazy aftermath he reached up a hand and unhooked her
bound wrists from around the bedpost. He
rolled onto his back, taking Buffy with him to lie against him, curling his body
around her protectively. She was
his childe. His.
In the drowsy afternoon the vampires drifted off into unconscious slumber, limbs tangled and demon features melted away. Ripper’s whistle as he made his way out of the factory echoed off the walls of their chamber.