Title: Ronin: Within You (Part II of the Ronin Warrior Series)
                      Author: Kita/ Donna M.
                      Rating: NC-17 for graphic violence, M/M Slash, edgy BDSM, and bloodplay.
                      Later on in this part of the series will also come references to and possible
                      depiction of rape/torture. If this offends you, please dont read any further.
                      Email Address: Kita0610@aol.com
                      Summary: This is a Spike/Angel(us) pairing with sex, magic, angst, and...oh
                      yes, sex.
                      Spoilers: All of BtVS through Season Four, and A:tS through Season One is
                      fair game. I also utilize some ideas in here that Ive heard rumored for the
                      future. If youve heard the rumors, then theres nothing spoiled. If you
                      havent, you wont be able to pick them out anyway. This story also includes a
                      brief reference to the BtVS hardcover Immortal.
                      Disclaimer: I dont own any of the characters mentioned in this story. Joss
                      Whedon, David Greenwald, Mutant Enemy and the WB created them and own all
                      rights. No infringement is intended. That means dont sue me, I own nothing of
                      value.
                      Authors notes: You want to read the first in this series, Ronin: Under The
                      Sun before you attempt this one. The pieces of this story also only make
                      sense together. Additionally, please be forewarned that this series contains
                      major character death.

                      !!DIALOGUE IS ENCLOSED IN COLONS NOT QUOTES (( :: )) because I have a
                      haunted keyboard.!!! <> and ** are thoughts and/or emphasis..the story
                      makes which obvious. I hope.

                      Distribution: Just let me know where its going first, please. Archive away.
                      Feedback: Please feed my fameslut demon. It gives her a happy.
 

                      Ronin: Within You Part 7
 

                      The spell was broken.

                      Angel ripped his fangs away from the tender neck beneath him, and tore his
                      own flesh as he pulled away from Williams sharp teeth. Angels chest heaved
                      with exertion, and his head spun dizzily. William had not yet moved a
                      voluntary muscle, though his upper lip twitched as though his fangs were
                      still embedded in Angels neck. How long had they lain here? It seemed like
                      hours, but it must have been mere moments. Like the old mortal saying about
                      your life flashing before your eyes prior to death. Angel had relived the
                      time he shared with William, though he had no idea from whose conciousness
                      the images had sprung. He saw, heard, tasted....felt...every thing which
                      William had in the darkest and most dazzlingly radiant years of both their
                      lives.

                      He brushed his hand over Williams eyes, bidding them to open. The cobalt
                      stare which met him was glassy, shining with barely restrained emotion.
                      Shocked, Angel took a breath. His voice betrayed his own passion, despite his
                      valiant struggle to keep it in check.

                      ::You miss him?!:: Incredulous, rueful....angry.

                      There was no answer. What could William possibly say to make Angel
                      understand? That the time was so much simpler then; before souls, and Slayers
                      and implants. That his feelings were so much simpler then as well. Hate.
                      Lust. Rage. Love. *Belonging.* That when Angelus would turn his venomous
                      anger on him, and beat him mercilessly, that it was almost better than the
                      sex. Because in those moments, William became pure feeling. pure energy, and
                      that escape was worth any price. That through it all...the years spent at
                      Angelus feet, in his bed, at least he knew his place. What was it now, his
                      purpose, his design? He made a jolly good show of not caring about such
                      matters. But this unbidden trip through the centuries had brought it all to
                      the fore. What was he? He knew. He was an impotent demon miserably in love
                      with his own Sire, a souled vampire who happened to still carry a torch for a
                      dead Slayer. How pathetic.

                      Angel grabbed Williams chin, forced him to meet his gaze. ::You miss him.::

                      William only nodded mutely, battling the immanent, shameful tears.

                      ::Stand up:: Angel ordered hoarsely. For one petrifying moment, William
                      feared Angel was going to throw him out. ::What..?:: was all he could manage.

                      ::I SAID STAND UP, DAMN YOU:: The rage in the older vampires voice was no
                      longer in his control. And it was obvious he didnt care.

                      William rose to his feet unsteadily. ::What... --?:: he began for the second
                      time. But was silenced by a strong hand contacting palm first across his
                      right cheek. He swallowed a whine of protest, and held his gaze steady as his
                      Sire glowered down at him.

                      ::Did I give you permission to speak, whelp?:: The voice was calm now. That
                      old...ancient kind of calm that his Sire used when his actions became most
                      uncontrolled. The combination always made William weak in his knees. Damn. It
                      still worked.

                      ::No, you didnt Sire. Im sorry.::

                      A snort from Angelus. ::Oh, youre sorry all right. Had the Lucky Charms
                      Leprauchan with a soul all to yourself. But no, you want **this**. Stupid
                      little boy, :: he hissed close to \Williams ear. The breath coming in hot
                      gasps against his cheek, ::you are going to get everything you dared to hope
                      for.. and maybe a little bonus too..::

                      Spike watched silently as the dark haired vampire tore apart a lamp cord, and
                      wrapped it casually around his own wrist. He didnt move a muscle as the
                      taller man pulled off his belt, ruffled through drawers to find several more
                      leather belts, and came toward him, preparations in hand.

                      Spike didnt try to struggle as his arms were bound with the leather belts,
                      forced over his head, and linked with electrical wire to the pipe on the
                      ceiling. He stood, remarakbly composed, as his feet were kicked apart from
                      under him, then tied that way to the lamp which had been knocked over, and
                      placed on the floor between his legs.

                      He could have fought. He could have freed himself from the bonds without
                      exerting
                      terribly much effort. But he did not.

                      He actually had to fight to keep from breathing, because breathing would be a
                      show of weakenss, a show of surrender, and the larger vampire fed on that as
                      much as he fed on the blood. Spike watched the way his Sire moved, the
                      muscles loose and limber. No more were the shoulders hunched with the weight
                      of a thousand worlds. No more did the brows knit with the trademark small
                      lines of gloom between them. He moved his arms about as he spoke, each
                      gesture grand and narcissistic. This was a man...a creature..totally at ease
                      within his own body.

                      He felt the laugh before he heard it, and it ran up his spine like so many old
                      nightmares...daymares...dreams.

                      Spike dared not meet his Sires gaze. He knew which countenance he would see.
                      The deeply ridged brow, the yellow eyes, the elongated canines. Angel had
                      shown similar face in their escapades...their battles and their bliss...But
                      this total package was reserved for someone else.

                      This was the way Angelus wore the body.

                      Spike kept his eyes carefully on the floor as the hulking form circled him, a
                      carrion.

                      He was talking. Even the voice wasnt the same. It had a lilting quality to
                      it...part Irish
                      accent, part acerbic pscyhopath. It made Spikes insides quiver in dread. It
                      also made his cock hard as a goddam brick.

                      ::Trouble is, I have no idea which transgression to punish you for first. I
                      mean there are sooooo many.:: As he spoke, he rubbed the tip of the doubled
                      up leather belt he held against Spikes chest. Gentle. Featherlike. Menacing.

                      ::We could start with the fact that you tried to have me KILLED:: He swung
                      the belt with a quick flick of an agile wrist, and the noise snapped the
                      sound barrier by Williams ear. For a second, he was deafened. But he did not
                      flinch. ::Of course, youve done that so many FUCKING TIMES I wouldnt know
                      where to begin kicking the shit out of you for it.:: Another snap of the
                      leather, the other ear dimmed this time. Now it was like hearing under a sea
                      of water.. a bathtub of bubbles...<<you dont have to breathe, idiot childe>>

                      ::So lets start with the basics. You forgot your place. You forgot who you
                      are, who I am, and what that means in the scheme of things. Ill tell you what
                      it means, boy.::

                      The first **crack** of the whip against his back made Spike arch forward
                      despte his
                      resolve. He had forgotten how strong......

                      ..::You forgot, didnt you?:: The sing song voice. So tranquil. **Crack** A
                      second stripe marred the smooth lines of his bare back.

                      ::You forgot how easy it was for me to make you cry.:: **Crack** This time
                      the back of his thighs were the target. Angelus aim was always accurate.
                      With one stroke a large angry welt covered both of the blonds trembling upper
                      legs.

                      ::You asked for this, boy. In actions, and in words. Never let it be said I
                      dont give you
                      what you want.:: **Crack** Spikes eyes had been closed in pain, and he hadnt
                      noticed Angelus stood in front of him. Until the blow landed on his chest,
                      leaving a streak of blood across both flat nipples with the expert swing.

                      ::Open your eyes:: Such a soft voice. As Spike did, the leather flew again,
                      this time across the front of his legs. Thank the gods for good aim. Still,
                      he shook and tried in vain to shield himself. A smirk. ::Dont worry. Not
                      gonna hurt any part I need later on.:: Angelus reached out and took hold of
                      that part, and despite the pain pulsing at the site of each lash mark, the
                      bound vampire arched forward into the caress. More laughter.

                      ::You are sooooo predictable, Spike.:: **Crack** ....Again,...Again,...
                      Again. Shoulders pulsed under the repeated force of impact. Blood flowed
                      freely now down Spikes back, running down his legs and onto the wooden floor.

                      The blond vampire bit his lip to keep from crying out. The blood flowed too
                      now down his chin, but....no defeat. A sigh by his ear. Again, William hadnt
                      noticed that his tormentor had moved til it was too late The body moved
                      quicker when Angelus was in full posession of it. With a more vampire like
                      speed and grace. As if Angel was afraid that giving that much control to the
                      supernatural forces that kept his corpse animated, would somehow give Angelus
                      more control as well. Breath in his ear. A tongue caressing the folds of
                      flesh there. ::I will make you scream, Will. You know I will. Just let it go
                      now...::

                      Spike cringed hearing the words he had uttered in the elevator being spoken
                      this way. A cruel tug to the blond hair, words uttered against sweat-covered
                      cheeks this time. ::What did you expect, boy? You dissapoint me. Have you
                      romanticized me that much over the years? Im Savior or Satan, is that right?
                      Rarely do you hit the mark...::

                      Handful of platinum hair released with a jerk, throwing Spikes neck forward,
                      then back once more. Dizzy with the wrenching motion, his brain bouncing
                      against his skull.

                      Mouth against the rivulets of blood pouring from his wounded flesh. Cold,
                      hard, insistent kisses. Spike moaned. Sharp fingernails dug into his thighs
                      as a probing tongue found each wound, and sharp teeth reopened them. A hiss
                      through clenched jaws. ::Why wont you scream for me, Will?:: Mouthful of
                      blood. Snapping bites against his inner thigh..close..so close to....he
                      wouldnt.

                      ::Ah, Will, you know I love you..:: Sarcasm. The lash marks barely bee
                      stings by
                      comparison. ::You know what your problem is?:: Again hed moved too quickly
                      for Spike to process. He was already across the room, rummaging through
                      drawers searching for...something. Apparantly something he thought was
                      important enough to delay his little game for...

                      He returned to his Childes side empty handed and looking annoyed...feral and
                      annoyed. Always a painful combination for anyone unlucky enough to be tied up
                      and witnessing it. ::Your problem is your skin.:: Angelus ran a long
                      fingered hand down Spikes flank, smirking at the shudder it elicited. His
                      caress lingered on one hip, before he raised back and smacked it, leaving an
                      angry hand print over the hip bone.

                      ::Dont get me wrong, its... beautiful skin.:: Another biting slap, to the
                      opposite hip. ::Its so pale:: *Slap* ::So smooth:: *Slap*.

                      ::So very very ..soft:: A single slap to the face....almost feeble by
                      comparison to the
                      others...Spikes eyes flew open. The intent was only to get his attention. A
                      broad, ominous smile met him.

                      ::You know, when it was night, and the three of us were asleep together,
                      sometimes, I would wake up, and feel a small, soft body next to me. And in
                      the darkness, I didnt know if it was you or Dru. Your skin is that soft,
                      Will.:: Angelus caressed the side of Spikes face as he said these words,
                      running his thumb over the bruises he had left there. ::Its that soft.::

                      The dark haired vampire dropped to his knees in front of the restrained one.
                      Again, he took to lapping at the lacerations which were already reparing
                      themselves. . ::The problem is...it just heals so damned quickly.:: Small
                      nibbles on the inside of Spikes thighs. ::And you know, Im kind of a visual
                      sadist.:: Flat surface of the tongue over Spikes balls, and he leaped as far
                      as his bonds would allow him off of his feet.

                      ::Its a shame really:: That relentless tongue moving in smooth, fluid
                      motions over the tender skin between his testicles and his ass. Spike
                      quivered under the ministrations, under the touches in stark contrast to the
                      words being spoken. Uttered so serenely they could only be harbingers of
                      inevitable suffering.

                      ::Im going to have to mark you permanantly, you know. Again. Its the only
                      way, I fear.:: Tip of the cool tongue flirting with the entrance to Spikes
                      trembling body. Running in lazy circles around the pink flesh, never
                      lingering long enough to satisfy the building need. One soitary thrust...and
                      the blond arched back...with a gutteral cry torn from his throat.

                      Then it was gone. Spike groaned his frustration into the side of his arm, his
                      head resting wearily on one shoulder.

                      When Angelus forcefully lifted his head once more, he was holding an old
                      fashioned ink well. ::A nice tattoo. I cut you, I pour the ink in the wound.
                      Should work. Itll hurt, sure. But itll work. What do you say, Will?:: The
                      old rhetoric. Annoyance warred with trepedation. The former won out.

                      ::What, Im supposed to agree with you again, now? Whats the bleedin line you
                      wanna hear, Sire, eh? Hows it go? Oh yes, As you wish, My Lord and Master? ::

                      Angelus laughed, some genuine glee in the demonic sound this time. ::Goddamn,
                      Will. Im impressed. You *have* grown up. But your consent is really
                      inconsequential to me these days. The times, they are a-changin'.::

                      Spike stared at his Sire as he processed the answer. The truth of it hit him
                      suddenly, a freight train in his chest. This wasnt the ancient Angelus that
                      stood before him. The one who he certainly feared, but could at
                      least....predict. This was the Angelus who had re-appeared after his ill
                      fated tryst with the Slayer. The one who had tasted benevolance, and had been
                      twisted to rage all the more by it. The one who brooked no weakness,
                      especially not from his Childer. The one whod had only scorn and loathing for
                      his broken bones..... The one who had appeared to him in the vision of his
                      mutilation at the hands of the Initiative.

                      The one who the Judge had pronounced ::burned pure of all traces of humanity::

                      What was it Angelus had said to Spike, years ago, as they had begun to make
                      preparations to suck the world into hell...about how the Slayer had made
                      him....feel....

                      **She made me feel human again. Thats just not something you forgive.**

                      Spike was certain Angelus would not forgive him that either. He raised his
                      chin and met the dark gaze. All right. He *had* asked for this. He couldnt
                      deny that anymore than he could deny the fact that he had wanted it. He would
                      accept his punishment like a ..vampire. Not a whimpering human.

                      He swallowed hard. ::Go ahead, then::.

                      Angelus stared at him with amazement for one brief second. Then, silently, he
                      walked behind his Childe to choose the placement for the mark. He laid a
                      gentle kiss on the small of Spikes back, and Spike understood that was where
                      he would be cut, and branded again as his Sires. With the tip of his finger,
                      Angelus traced the letter <A> on the smooth expanse of skin , before reaching
                      down into the boots he was not wearing for the knife he no longer carried.
                      <<Not in more than a hundred years>>

                      Spike heard the dull thud as Angels body collapsed onto the wood floor. He
                      craned his neck in his bonds, and out of the corner of his eye, saw his Sire
                      laying in a pool of his own blood. With a curse born of equal parts
                      frustration and relief, he tore free of the restraints.He kicked the lamp out
                      of the way, and bent over the prone form.

                      Angels eyes were closed, his hand cupped over his nostrils, from where the
                      endless flow of blood appeared to be stemming. Spike snorted, ::For pitys
                      sake, Angelus, this whole schtick works alot better if you bleed from your
                      palms...:: He waited for the broody, smart ass retort. None was forthcoming.

                      ::Angel!:: he shouted, gently shaking the strong shoulder. Still, no reply.
                      ::Angel,
                      dammnit!:: He moved the dark haired mans hands and was stunned at the amount
                      and velocity of the blood flow. ::Fuck...:: he murmered. Then he scooped the
                      large vampire into his arms, and gently carried him to the bed. As Spike lay
                      the still bleeding, dark head of his Sire upon the pillows, his left hand
                      opened. The green stone clattered noisily to the floor.

                      End Part 7
 

Next

Return