~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~Part: 41~
It was not the outcome she expected.
The vampire was certainly off of his dead ass, with blinding speed and agility, and had dragged her, kicking and screaming, into Wesley's bedroom. He slammed the door behind them, locking it just before Wesley crashed into it and began pulling at the doorknob frantically. Spike disregarded his shouts, focusing on the luscious morsel in front of him.
Cordelia ran across the room to the window, yanking the curtain open to reveal a dim night sky. The drop was three stories and she was not likely to survive. She looked back at the blond slowly approaching her, fangs to the fore, and concluded she was less likely to survive him. Instinctively, she pulled the window open and hoisted a foot up to the bottom ledge, preparing to leap, when he snatched her back.
"Bloody stupid bint," he mumbled as he carried her back from certain death. "You'd waste your blood on the cement instead of giving it to me?"
Apparently the question was rhetorical.
Fangs, razor sharp and less pleasant than she remembered, sliced into her neck. She cried out, her hands slapping at him while Wesley banged and kicked at the door. Annoyed by her feeble attempts to stop him, he released her and shifted them both until he had her hands secured behind her with one hand. He wrenched her head to the side, bringing his mouth to the blood already spilling for him. Her heart was strong, pumping the blood out furiously in her fear and slowly he drank her with delight.
For Cordelia, this was all so very unnecessary. She was dying for the infraction of having a little trouble controlling her mouth.and it sucked. Vampires were way too moody. The pain was over now and a part of her settled down, willing to let this happen. Maybe he would turn her, grant her beauty eternal. As darkness crept into her vision, the realization that she would not be able to see that beauty, ever again, sunk in and she tried once more to reach him through the hazy fog of his bloodlust.
"Spike.please don't." It was a whisper. He heard it, was inclined to ignore it.his demon demanded he ignore it and turn her now so he could teach her to be submissive for an eternity.
The banging on the door had stopped and he heard the distinct sound of a dial tone. Coming to a decision, he dropped the nearly unconscious girl onto the bed and stormed out to deal with his feisty little pet.
"Room 614, please," Wesley whispered into the phone.
"What do you think you're doing?" Spike asked. There was a horse quality to his voice.demonic. He was still in the grips of bloodlust and was not especially reasonable.
Wesley jumped, dropping the phone. Too slow in trying to retrieve it, the blond got it first and hung up.
"Spike," he spoke as firmly as he could.his watcher voice. The blond only smiled, showing off his inhumanly long canines. Still he pressed on. "What have you done to Cordelia?"
"I bit her. Tired of her annoying, yammering mouth." Wesley moved to go around the demon, but Spike grabbed him, drawing him near. "She'll live, pet. More than I can say for you."
"Stop it." The brunette tried to free himself, but ceased his efforts quickly, understanding it was a waste of his energy. Energy he may need to escape if Spike had finally decided to make good on his threat.
"Or what?"
"Stop with this little game you and Willow have cooked up about turning me." He glared at the blue eyes, resisting the pull. "Angel won't allow it."
"Whatever gets you through the long days, mate." He began kissing the man's throat, light delicate caresses with his cool lips. Wesley wiggled around at first, but as each touch went straight to his cock he fell in line quickly, responding with quiet moans.
Wesley's hair had not been cut recently. The result was longer locks that gathered in loose curls. Spike played with one lock of hair, feeling the silky quality and looking forward to feeling those soft tresses for eternity.
Angel would be angry, but he would have his childe and that's all that mattered.
He pulled back, looking into the ex-watcher's flushed face. "Time to go."
Wesley did not know exactly what that meant.go to the hotel or leave this life. He did not ask. "What about Cordelia? She's hurt. I can't just leave her."
Spike's jaw clenched with impatience. The girl was fine, just passed out. He would be glad when all this compassion was erased from his pet. It was irritating.
"Angel will come back for her. Let's go. Now."
~~~*~~~
Buffy was anxious. Willow had been missing for six weeks now. It would be Christmas in a few days and her parents still had not come back to find out about their only child. Of course they were Jewish, but this was a holiday season for them as well. They should at least check on her, right?
And Riley was beginning to worry her. He had been asking a slew of questions about Willow, suddenly interested in her friend's whereabouts. Buffy deflected him repeatedly, but it bothered her that he was so curious.
She walked into Giles' apartment, draping herself lazily over the sofa. Xander and Anya were to meet her in a few minutes to discuss the redhead. They needed a plan.to do what, she was unsure. But plans were good.
Giles came down the stairs from his bedroom in the loft.
"Buffy.is there something wrong?" he asked, noticing her grim _expression.
"Nothing new. Willow is out there, with Spike, and we haven't done anything to get her back."
"Getting her back is not an option, Buffy. It's a matter of staking her or not staking her," Giles replied.
"No.we, we can give her a soul.like Angel.I still think."
"No! She will stake herself if we do that and you know it. She's killed too many. Just leave them be unless they show up here. You've got enough on your plate with this Initiative. And that's where you should focus your energies. Willow is lost to us."
Anya and Xander had come in and heard the last of Giles' statement.
"He's right, you know," Anya added. "Spike will never let you have her. He'd kill you all if you tried."
"He'd try," Buffy retorted, twirling a stake.
"Yes, well you might survive him, but he is more than capable of killing the rest of us.easily."
~~~*~~~
Angel felt Spike as he approached. He was back sooner than he expected, which was good, although he had hoped to have a chat with Willow. But she was still asleep. He checked on her a few minutes ago, satisfied that her wounds were healing nicely. She would be better by morning.
The door opened revealing the blond and.Wesley.
"You went to collect Wesley?"
"That's right. And we have some planning to do. I wanna leave tomorrow night for Sunnydale."
Angel did not argue. He wanted this done soon as well.
"By the way.your seer got herself bit.you may want to check on her."
The last word was just out of his mouth when he was thrown against the wall and trapped by a much heavier Angel.
"What did you do, Spike?" he snarled.
"The girl has a mouth the size of Texas. I warned her before, Angel. She challenges me at every turn, so I bit her. She's not so chatty right now, but she'll live."
Angel pushed off of him, putting a foot of space between them.
"Don't bite her again, boy."
Spike smiled at this. "Doubt I'll have to, sire." He pushed off the wall and walked over to Eric. "Has Willow been up?" The minion shook his head. He made his way to the bedroom. "You and Wesley work on how we get in and out of the place. This whole attack needs to take less than ten minutes."
~Part: 42~
The door to Wesley's bedroom crashed open, revealing a large, anxious vampire. Cordelia screamed, hugging her knees to her chest. Her face was buried and she refused to look up at the terrifying sounds around her.
"Cordy?" Angel asked tentatively before rushing to her side. She had a heartbeat. He did not put it past Spike to turn her and not tell him. His childe would find that kind of thing amusing.
"It's me, Cordy..." he assured as he tried to pry her arms away from her legs. This close to her, the drying blood, the smell of Spike on her, and her fear were a heady mixture to his demon.
"He's gone, Cordy." He added as he finally used enough force to open her up to him. Tears stained her face, so inviting as they dripped over her trembling lips. He wiped them away, passing on tasting them. "Shhh..I'm here."
She wrapped herself around him, climbing into his lap. "He was gonna kill me," she whispered between hitches for breath.
Angel shook his head. "No, he wasn't, or you'd be dead, or probably undead. Spike likes to play."
"H-he just got d-distracted.And how come? Am I losing my appeal?" She cried burying her face in his neck.
That did sound like Spike. He admitted this to himself, but kept silent. She was distraught enough already, which was unnerving for Angel. Everything about her current state pleased the demon in him and he cursed his reactions even as he secretly enjoyed them. Shifting her weight, he was well aware of the effect she was having on him as she straddled his lap. She was unmindful of her position and he wanted to keep her from becoming aware of his rapidly growing erection.
"I don't want you here alone," he told her. "I'll get you a room near ours, but I'm not leaving you by yourself."
It went unspoken that Wesley was not going to be returning soon. Angel did not want to give life to the fact that he was allowing his childe to keep a human, his employee, as a.consort seemed too strong a word, too foreign a concept, but it was the most accurate. All this was reminiscent of a past, once forgotten, now becoming vibrantly familiar and appealing.
She leaned back, looking at him for the first time. "He'll come after me again, Angel. He's psychotic and I can't control what I say. It's like I have a disease. Do you think it's tourette's?"
"I'll talk to him."
"Talk to him? Talk? He doesn't understand talk! He understands blood." She grabbed his arm and used his shirt sleeve to wipe her eyes. "Wesley said something while we were shopping. He said that even though he was, air quote, appalled at what he had allow to happen, the bite from Spike meant no other vampire would attack him. Is that true?"
"To a certain extent. If the bite is claiming, then other vampires usually leave that person alone, if the claim is from a master." He shook his head, puzzled, frowning. "Why are you asking this?"
"If you bite me, then he has to stop, right?" she asked sweeping her hair back behind one shoulder. Her tears were dried and she seemed determined.
Angel sat frozen. The line of her neck called to him, as an artist and a monster. Angelus painted images of him drawing and tasting her for an eternity. "No."
"You have to. Now do it," she demanded through clenched teeth.
He tried to maneuver her gently from his lap, but instead her groin brushed his still erect cock. She took notice, settling her weight on him and grinding slightly, not enough to be accused of doing it purposely, but enough for him to feel her heat.
"Cordy, you don't know what you're asking. I.I'll change on you. I won't be the same. You'll."
"I'll be alive and free from the evil spawn's attention. He won't touch me if he thinks I belong to you."
He grabbed her by the arms, glaring at her. "You would belong to me, Cordy. Angelus won't be pretending. He.I would turn you if I got free of the soul."
"And Spike'll turn me now! Is that better?"
He released his hold, only now seeing the bruises where his hands had been. 'I can't believe I am even considering doing this. Isn't my unlife complicated enough without asking for appearances from Angelus? This is dangerous, Cordy."
She softened some. He only wanted to protect her, from himself as well as Spike. "I know. I never thought I'd be asking a vampire to bite me and make me his. I'm a modern woman, you know. But.there is a mass murderer, whose sire refuses to control him or send him away, so this will solve my problem."
In Angel's opinion she was trading one problem for another. "Are you sure?" Angelus was reeling. He could smell her. The fear was amazing, but the arousal was unexpected.and pleasant.
"Yeah, just do it now." She stopped her subtle rocking, a worried look on her face. "Will it hurt?"
Laughing, he pushed her hair clear of her neck again. Now that he had capitulated he was eager to taste her. "Not the way I'll do it," he boasted before lunging for her mouth.
~~~*~~~
Spike heard the swishing sound of the keycard and swung his head around quickly. The noise, too much like that of the glass doors opening and closing in that stark white world he had escaped from, gave him the creeps. Wesley and Eric followed his movement and saw the door as it opened, revealing Angel and Cordelia.
Immediately, the scent of sex and a claim hit him, nostrils flaring as he savored the smells. Cordelia would not look at him, but his sire wore a smirk that was uncannily malevolent.
Spike's balls tightened.
The couple came into the room and Wesley rose, concern etched in his features. "Cordelia, you're all right," he said as a greeting.
She nodded. "Yeah, healing right up."
Spike's eyes narrowed as he approached his sire. The girl still had a heartbeat, but.
"Angelus?" The blond inquired.
Angel chucked. "It's still here, Spike."
Relief and disappointment swirled around in the younger vampire's mind. "What did you do?"
"Took her, claimed her properly. So keep your teeth out of her from now on, childe."
It was a warning, the only one he would get or need. But he was not deterred. He still planned to play with the human, just with Daddy's permission now.
Angel watched as several emotions flickered across his childe's face. Anger was first and fleeting. It gave way to something akin to curiosity, followed by resignation. The souled demon would have been pleased if it stopped there, but it didn't. Those blue eyes filled up with something else, making them sparkle with life.an idea.
Afraid to even ask, he changed the subject. "Is Willow better yet?"
"Yeah, just showered, should be dressed soon." He allowed this sudden shift in the conversation. "We've got the way in and the exit plans, three of them, mapped out," he added. "When will you get the weapons?"
"We can't get them until sunset tomorrow."
Spike rolled his eyes, impatient, but understanding that if there was a way to get them sooner, Angel would have done it.
"Then we wait. I still want to know about that disk," he said, marching to the bedroom to get Willow.
~~~*~~~
Kate stared at the photo faxed to her by Maggie Walsh. According to her, this man was responsible for the death of more than two dozen men. She studied his face, although she did not really need to, she had imagined him many times since seeing him a few nights ago with Angel.
His was the face of death. She understood that now. And Angel had called him family.
She slipped the photo in the folder and looked at the next one. A pretty young girl with brilliant red hair. Willow Rosenberg.
When the professor had been fishing for information and descriptions, Kate had been careful to give her nothing and chastised herself for admitting there were two suspects, male and female.
Clearly this was Maggie's way of leading her to a conclusion, but the blond wasn't the culprit in this case.
Several witnesses did, however, report seeing a redhead fleeing the scene. But the male she was with was not a platinum blond, at least not if the witnesses were to be believed.
Most troubling was how could this sweet young girl, an excellent college student according to Walsh, be party to such a massacre? The idea that something.otherworldly was at work here continued to plague her, an infection, slowly taking over more rationalized thought.
She shook it off. She had to. If she accepted this explanation into her life, there was no undoing it, no unseeing the world as a place filled with supernatural creatures where the laws of man could not reach and did not apply. It meant a loss of her carefully constructed control and she was not ready for that.
It also meant that Angel, someone she may or may not have feelings for, was most likely a part of this otherworld.
He's. family. He's okay.
"Christ," she sighed. A few of her fellow detectives glanced up, but were more annoyed than curious. Her behavior recently had become questionable in the departments opinion.
She gathered her things, and the folder, and left. She needed to speak to Angel.
~Part: 43~
The chirping of his cell phone interrupted the current strategy debate. Wesley insisted that the power not be cut until after Willow accessed the mainframe, while Spike thought everything should be done simultaneously, based on Eric's confirming that the back up power would keep the computers running, but not the lighting, as too much power would be needed for both. The arguing had been going on for twenty minutes, yet Spike allowed it instead of taking the man into the bedroom and shagging him into submission, because he wanted his opinion, valued him as a thinker. But it was tiring for the others. They were getting nowhere and Angel welcomed the distraction.
Until he saw the number on the caller id. Too late to stop himself, his finger hit the talk key, so he reluctantly brought the phone to his ear.
"Angel." He was all business with her lately. At one point it seemed they had a spark, a connection. But Angel had been certain nothing like that could ever be written for him in those stars that his wicked beauty, Drusilla, always spoke of. So he purposefully maneuvered himself away from her, for her own safety.
"Hey, it's Kate," she replied, sounding chipper, which in and of itself was not unusual except. this was Kate and she was never chipper.
The vampire noticed these nuances without missing a beat in the conversation. The demon in him got a perverse kick out of feeling people up with his senses.
"Hey. What's up?"
"I got a lead on that case from the other day. I, uh, wondered if you'd take a look, you know, give your opinion."
She was nervous, but he could not fathom why.
"Yeah, sure. When?"
"Now is good."
They agreed to meet at a bar a few blocks from her apartment.
Spike had, of course, been listening and now turned to his sire. "Where do you think you're going?"
"Meeting Kate. She's got some information about the case that is Willow and Eric. I thought it would be a good idea to see what she has, kinda deflect her if she is actually on to something."
The blond eyed him for a minute while Angel gathered his things and left before turning to Willow.
"I have to go with him. Can I trust you, Willow?"
She tore her eyes from the computer and gazed up at him. "I won't leave unless you say I can," she avowed, so very serious that he wanted to laugh. Instead he smiled at her warmly.
"And I'll never leave you at all." That brought a smile her to lips and he kissed them gently, her eyes fluttering closed. "Later, we'll play with him, yeah?" He whispered.
She nodded excited, casting a sideways glance at Wesley.
"Then you'll be good?"
"Yes, Spike! Go!"
With a final peck to her cheek, he took off, hurrying to catch up to his sire.
~~~*~~~
"What are you doing, Spike?"
The brunette sighed as he unlocked his car. He felt his childe's approach, almost expected it.
"I don't trust that bint. She'll turn on you in a heartbeat as soon as she finds out what you are. What we are."
"She won't find out. Not before I have a chance to tell her."
Spike laughed. "What? How long have you know her? A week, a few days?" When Angel just looked at him he continued. "No. you've known her long enough to say 'By the way, I can't take you out to lunch or for a stroll on the beach cuz I'm a soddin' vampire."
Angel knew Spike was right. He usually was when it came to people, having retained so much of his own humanity when turned. He got in and reached over, unlocking the passenger door. His childe slid in gracefully.
"I don't want you saying anything. Use the bond if you notice something and it can't wait. She's a blonde, but she's nowhere close to stupid."
Spike nodded and then frowned.
"Hey!"
Angel refused to engage in chitchat while driving and they arrived at the destination after fifteen minutes of Spike sending lewd sexual thoughts down the bond and straight into the souled demon's cock. The result was a vaguely strange walk for one and suppressed chuckles from the other.
Kate was inside and her eyes widened when she saw the blonde come in behind his sire. Covering quickly, she waved them over to the booth near the back. As they approached, her heart began a strange cadence. Something was so off about her friend, but it took this other one to notice it, to see how similar they were, how connected.
Angel slid in across from her, but to her dismay the blond was standing next to her smiling down at her wolfishly.
"I never pass up a chance to sit next to such a delicious thing as you, luv." His voice was rich and deep and accented. She found herself moving over, even though she had planned to stand her ground, as the man slipped in too fluidly.
Angel rolled his eyes, seemingly annoyed, but there was an underlying amusement, as if he tolerated this kind of behavior from this relative frequently and found it secretly endearing.
"Angel, where are your manners?" His childe was having fun.
"Kate, this is.William," he said while stepping on Spike's foot under the table. "William, Kate."
"Pleasure." He took her hand and kissed the back of it lightly, keeping eye contact with the pretty blonde. And it truly was a pleasure for him. He entertained thoughts of shagging her in her blood until she was limp, sated in death.
She pulled her hand and he released it instantly, the previous warmth she thought she saw in his eyes gone, leaving nothing but icy calculation.
His picture did not do him justice.
Angel was at a loss for what to do to stop Spike's antics. It was making Kate skittish, which was no easy feet. Just when he planned to intervene.
"So, you guys are related?"
"Yeah, brothers." Angel offered before Spike could say something, utterly stupid, but probably true. "You have a lead?"
"Oh.yeah." His change of subject was duly noted. She opened the folder, careful to keep the facsimile of William covered with other papers, and pulled out the sheet on Willow Rosenberg. She handed it to Angel, trying to gage his reaction. If either of them recognized the young woman, she could not detect it. Angel read over the information and passed it to Spike, who glanced at it, uninterested.
"Is this the suspect?" Angel inquired, feigning disbelief.
"We think so. She's also been spotted near other murder scenes throughout the state. Or someone matching her description. And you know I don't believe in coincidence." Her blue eyes were on him, analyzing every move. This he knew without having to see her. Her gaze was as weighted as the burden of his soul.
Unfortunately, her preoccupation with studying Angel left her open to a much more detailed and accurate scrutiny by one blonde vampire. He did not like what he saw. She was playing Angel, them both. Or she was trying. What caught his attention was that she was scared, reeking of fear, when logically there was no reason for it.
"Is this your only suspect?" His voice startled her and she jumped in her seat before turning and smiling.
"No.there was a male, but we don't have a description."
He smiled back and glanced, dutifully, at the picture of his childe. It was of her human self, probably from a college ID. As he handed it back he noticed the fax number on the edge, the machine it came from. It was a Sunnydale area code and prefix. He committed the number to memory and looked to Angel.
"The waitress is too bloody slow. 'M headed for the bar." Without looking back or asking if either of them wanted anything, he left them alone.
He ordered a beer and turned around to watched them. She was visibly more relaxed now that Spike left the table. The good detective was playing games, cat and mouse, he mused. Too bad for her that the big dog just joined the fun.
~Part: 44~
Staring at the screen did not change what she saw. Reading it over and over again was also reaping the same reward.
An allergy?
When she was alive and human, she and Xander had joked about vampires having an allergy to the sun. It had only been mildly amusing at the time, but how close to the truth had they been?
Only what the Initiative scientists had discovered was not a sun aversion, but that the tissues making up the heart in a vampire were inherently different than a human’s...
The muscular tissues have undergone an odd molecular conversion, creating vast differences from a human heart or any other living heart. These changes have been documented as having identical structure for all 125 vampire hostiles examined. We have not been able to duplicate the change in a test environment or ascertain the reason for the change other than that it happens as a result of contamination by an existing hostile.
The organ is non-functioning, but exists as an Achilles heel for the demon; one of many. Tests indicate that wood, any variety or size, upon penetration of the organ's walls, causes an internal combustion, resulting in the disintegration of the hostile from the inside. This is commonly referred to as “dusting.”
Upon further examination is it determined that the dusting is akin to an allergic chemical reaction to the wood molecules. Once wood is introduced to the tissue, there is an instantaneous bonding of molecules which generates a superheated substance that basically sets the creature on fire from the inside.
We have already determined that these particular hostiles are highly flammable and can be terminated easily in that manner.
This presents an obstacle to using these hostiles for more covert operations and a solution was thus sought. The following is the current and most promising resolution.
Willow’s hand trembled as she read. Eric glanced at her, sensing her tension, but stayed in his seat. He had decided to take the oldest vampire’s advice and keep his distance. The girl was tempting, but not enough to incur the wrath of his maker. She took no notice of him anyway.
After presenting an assortment of substances to samples of tissues taken from still existing hostiles, the answer was found in a common product.
Antifreeze, when injected, slowed the superheating process and stopped the internal combustion in 98% of the case studies. The two percent failure can be attributed to human miscalculation of proper dosage.
It works in the same way as antihistamine does for hayfever and pollen.
The findings are remarkable and can be used to create a more resilient soldier. Because they are sentient and capable of blending seamlessly with the human population, these hostiles, combined with the behavior modification chip and the anti-dusting treatment, are the best option for the subhuman army.
There was more, detailing recommended dosage, how long each injection was expected to last, but the gist, the crux, bottom line, was that there was really a way to stop staking from ending the unlife of a vampire.
Her lips curled into a devious smile. She was the only vampire who knew.
~~~*~~~
Three beers later, Spike returned to the table. He had heard everything that was said as the cop tried to out maneuver his sire without success and was now bored. He settled into the booth next to the pretty blonde again, as she looked at him with wide, doe eyes. Such a shame that her beauty wouldn’t last the week. He had plans for her.
“Ready to go?”
“Well,” Angel glanced at him slightly annoyed, but covered quickly. “Kate, are we done?”
She smiled and took a deep breath to get calm again. William set her on edge. “Yeah, I don’t have anything else. And thanks, you know, for your ideas. I’ll follow up on them.”
Angel stood, followed by Spike, who, playing the perfect gentleman, insisted on helping Kate up from her seat. She was swift in taking her hand away from his and he didn’t bother to hide his amusement.
Parting words were over almost before they started and Angel soon found himself in the car with his silent childe.
“What is your problem?” Angel asked.
Spike lit a cigarette before answering. “She knows.”
“Knows what? That Willow Rosenberg may have been seen at the scene?”
“No, well yeah, that, but she knows about us.”
“How can she?”
“That picture was faxed from Sunnydale. I’ll have Willow trace it when we get back.”
“Of course it came from Sunnydale. It’s where she lived.”
“I know that, you git. But why would the Sunnydale police be involved at all?”
Angel opened his mouth to reply but nothing he thought of provided a real answer. There was no missing persons report on the redhead, Buffy assured him of that. So why would they be involved at all?
“Maybe it’s not the police.”
~~~*~~~
“I believe Detective Lockley knows more than she’s telling.”
Professor Walsh lined up the pens on her desk while talking with the solder turned minor confidant, first by size, then by color, then by no particular reasoning at all.
Riley nodded, acknowledging her statement, but thinking of his latest conversation with Buffy about Willow.
“Buffy knows something too. She’s adamant that Willow’s fine when we know she isn’t. She knows where the hostile is. I’m sure of it. But why would she hide him?”
“The girl was her friend. Loyalties run deep and are often misplaced.”
“I know, but it’s her sacred duty, being the slayer, and I can’t understand what she thinks she can do for Willow now.”
Maggie sighed and pushed herself back from the desk, giving her T.A. her full attention. “Apparently there are things we don’t understand about the demon world that she does. It doesn’t mean we can't get that knowledge, but we have to be careful, Riley. If she is capable of protecting these murdering creatures, we can’t trust her.”
It tore his heart up to admit it, but she was not wrong. Buffy was lying to them, therefore everything was compromised as long as they were involved.
“Anything on that disc? Have they tried accessing our systems again?”
“No, and I suspect they won’t.” She stood and put on her labcoat. “The girl was a computer wiz, right?”
He nodded. “According to her friends, she was a pretty good hacker too.”
Maggie forced a smile to her face. “Then she’s our girl.” As an after thought she added. “And arrange for a tail on the detective. I want to know everything she does from now on.”
~~~*~~~
When she felt them getting close, she saved all she could to the hard drive and backed out of the files quickly. By the time the keycard swooshed and the door opened, she appeared to be gaining access to some files she knew were insignificant.
Spike immediately approached her, and for a second she thought he knew and froze. The kiss on top of her head did much to relieve the tension building in her, and she wondered why she had chosen to not tell them about what she found.
“Everything go okay?” Angel asked tentatively, but his meaning was clear. Did the naughty fledglings with an appetite for destruction behave?
“Things are fine, Angel.” Wesley spoke up, eager to report the evenings progress. “Eric and I have a workable plan and Willow has been on the computer, hacking away, I expect.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Cordelia’s been ordering room service and has an appointment for a massage later.”
The older vampire slumped considerably, gathering nerve to storm the room where he sensed her presence.
“So, pet, how are you doing with that disc?”
“It’s slow and I found some things, but nothing about what the directory alluded to.” She tried to sound annoyed and disappointed. “Did you and Angel have fun?”
“Fun and Angel are not found in the same room,” he replied. “Can you look up a phone number and tell who it belongs to?”
She nodded and grinned eagerly. “That’s an easy one. What’s the number?”
Spike called off the fax number that he memorized earlier and Willow worked her computer mojo. Less than a minute later, she started reading the results, faltering on the first few words.
“What’s wrong?” her sire asked.
“I...this address. It’s on campus. At UC Sunnydale.” Her frown deepened as she turned to him. “Where did you get the number?”
“The detective had a fax. Came from that number. Your picture, pet.”
“My picture?” she asked, hating the trembling in her voice.
“Right. Looks like someone’s finally connected all the dots.”
“Connected what dots?” Angel asked, coming from the room where Cordelia was resting.
“The fax came from the bloody college...which sits on top of the Initiative.”
“That doesn’t mean...” Angel started, but Spike cut him off.
“It means that I’m assuming they know it’s her and will start looking for connections. The slayer will give us up soon enough.” Picking up his coat, the blonde headed for the door.
“Now where are you going?” Angel was tired of keeping watch over Spike’s little clan.
“An errand. Won’t be long.”
The door slammed behind him despite the hydraulics that were placed to prevent that. Pressing the elevator call button he fished in one of the deeper coat pockets and produced a wallet. He opened it and ran a finger over the tiny picture that did not do her justice.
“Pretty little detective...” he whispered. “Time to spill your secrets.”
~Part: 45~
Standing outside the Expresso Pump, Buffy contemplated going inside. Riley had called and asked her to meet him here. Normally, she would be overly pleased to see the tall farm boy, but lately his questions about Willow had been too intrusive and she was certain that he was attempting to extract the information for reasons other than concerned curiosity. So she now found herself reluctant to return his calls or seek his company.
The decision to go in was swept away from her in a small wave as Parker, lowlife extraordinaire, bumped into her as he was leaving, drawing attention to them both, and Riley’s keen eyes settled on her form. For a fraction of a second, she thought she saw something in his expression that made her pause, but it was gone before she was able to identify it. She put on a smile to match his slightly painted on one and settled into the seat opposite his.
“Hey, what’s up?” she asked, chipper and bright. If he had an issue about the lack of smoochies, he remained quiet about it. “You okay? You look tired,” she added, commenting on the shadows under his eyes.
“Yeah...I had a long day. You know how Maggie gets.” He shrugged and shifted in his seat. “How about you? Are you holding up okay?”
She shrugged back, picking at the corner of a napkin.
“Willow still gone?”
“Yep.” She nodded, not looking at him but over his shoulder and perhaps into space.
“Are you ever going to tell me what’s really going on?”
Riley had decided that dancing around the issue was not working and that he needed to consider that using the direct approach with this bold little specimen of the species might be the better alternative.
“Are you calling me a liar?” She tried for indignation, but was not ready for the honesty with which he was prepared to assault her.
“Yes,” he frowned, unsure, then very sure. “I am. You have been since she disappeared and I want you to tell me why. Right now.”
“I...This is not...I’m not having this conversation with you, Riley.”
She moved to flee; it was something she was good at when emotions were high and things got intense, but his hand, clamping down forcefully on her wrist, stopped her. There was no doubt in her mind, or his, that she was capable of breaking the grip he had on her, of breaking him, but there would be a scene and she mostly sought to avoid those.
“Sit down, Buffy...Please,” he added, tense and ready to cause that scene. She dropped back down in the chair, glaring at him.
“Take your hand off me.”
He did immediately and tried smiling, failing miserably.
“So talk.”
“Look,” he sighed tiredly. “Willow’s been missing since the day after Hostile 17 escaped the compound. There’ve been murders...” He paused for affect, but her face remained stoic. “And the suspects match hers and the hostile’s description.” He was stretching the truth a bit, but it had the desired effect.
“Willow didn’t do whatever it is you think she did. She’d not capable...”
“He turned her into a demon, Buffy. She is capable of killing all of us!” He lowered his voice as an elderly couple glanced at them nosily. “The question is, how long are you gonna protect them, help them kill innocent people?”
~~~*~~~
Willow was having second thoughts. Just that fact alone, that she felt the need to regret a decision she had made, left her feeling inadequate and slightly off. Yet not telling Spike about what she found gave her an uncomfortable sensation in her chest that she could only relate to heartburn.
Eric’s hand slid along her back as he walked by, sipping from a beer, and she let her eyes follow him as he went to the small balcony. In the background, she heard and ignored Angel as he tried without success to get his seer to practice restraint when using his credit cards. Knowing that he would be occupied for a while, she joined the minion in the cool night air.
“You shouldn’t touch me like that. If Spike ever saw...”
“I know,” he agreed and the sad little sigh made her want him, if only to see him become lost in need for her as she cast him aside for her beloved sire. “But he’s not here.”
“Yeah, but Gramps is and he’s the biggest fink this side of the border.” She relieved him of the beer and took a swallow, running her tongue over the lip of the bottle before returning it to him. He replied in kind, licking her flavor from the glass and then downing the remaining liquid in one swallow.
He gazed at her levelly, swinging the empty bottle in from of him. “You’re up to something.”
It wasn’t what she expected and she had no reply. “Give me that.” Taking the bottle, she look down, grinning when she found what she wanted, and launched the bottle with demonic force into the crowd walking below. Seconds later the screaming started as she and Eric smiled and blended back into the shadows.
“What did you find on the disc?” he asked, his mind already moving on from the injured human six floors below.
“Nothing...yet.”
“Is it something we can have fun with?” He was persistent and totally ignoring her pathetic attempts at lying. “I’ve been stuck here all day and let me tell you, Angelus is not good company.”
“So what?”
“So let’s get out of here. Just go down to the pool or something...Turn the fucker red with blood.”
She grinned at him and pulled him into a hug. “You say the sweetest things.”
~~~*~~~
Having finally fallen asleep, when her doorbell rang she was certain that she was having a dream...or nightmare. But as she tried to change it, make it into something more pleasant and less demanding, nothing stopped the periodic ringing of that bell.
She came up from sleep quickly enough to be utterly annoyed and by the time she opened the front door her senses were down even if her anger was running wild. And to say she was surprised by the identity of her late night visitor was too serious of an understatement to address.
“William?”
Spike, for his part, put on his best helpful puppy look. “Hello, Kate. I’m sorry for the late night and all.” He lifted her wallet and flashed it in front of her with a shy smile. “Lost my lighter and went back to the bar for it. Found this in the booth instead, but you were already gone.”
Unlocking the security gate, she opened the door and reached for the proffered wallet. “Oh my God. I didn’t even realize I’d lost it. Thanks...Oh come in. I’m sorry,” she blurted, stepping back to allow him entrance.
The demon in him leaped at the words, but he held it in check, not ready to tear her to shreds just yet. He only slid past her casually, taking in all manner of detail about the room. From the scent, she lived alone, but that didn’t mean he could relax. She was a rabbit, but a feral one, ready and willing to use her little bunny teeth on anything that tried to eat her.
“Why didn’t Angel come?”
He will, soon. “Had an errand. You know how he is, always, helping the bloody helpless.”
“Yeah, I think I read that somewhere.” She pulled her robe tight around her frame, which was, to Spike, noticeably curvy.
“Well, I won’t keep you, Kate. I’ve already been rude enough for one evening.”
She slipped her hand into the pocket of her robe, where her gun was, but kept talking. “I think we sorta got off on the wrong foot.”
He smiled, and it was warming and beautiful, creating tiny lines around his eyes, and she was certain that meant he smiled a lot. In the picture Maggie Walsh had sent her, he was not smiling. She tightened her grip on the gun.
“Right. I’d like to get the chance to make that up to you. Angel doesn’t like it when I’m impetuous with his friends.” He stepped toward the front door, readying to leave.
“No, I’m sure he doesn’t.” She was bothered. By Angel considering her a friend, somewhat, but by William being under his influence enough to come here and make nice even more. “Maybe over coffee, then? Tomorrow?” She had no intention of going anywhere with him.
He was outside already and strutting down the paved walkway when he turned and walked backwards with an ease that was uncanny. “I’ll get your number from my...brother.” Hardly missing a beat, he gave her a cheeky grin and spun around again, dropping the façade the instant his back was to her.
She would never get that coffee.
~~~*~~~
Two sets of eyes watched as a platinum blonde male matching the description of the hostile sauntered out of the subject's home. She was still alive, so they were not sure what that said about her.
“Call it in?” Davis asked.
“Yeah, just waiting to see if he gets in a car,” Agent Matthews replied, getting the cell phone out of his pack.
The hostile did not get into a car, and once he rounded the corner the two agents slipped from the bushes across the street, relaxing a bit.
“Fuck. You think we should follow it?” Davis could not believe their luck. The whole Initiative was been looking for this thing and they stumbled across the hostile on a routine surveillance assignment. This would definitely result in a promotion to team leader.
“You can follow it if you want. I was there when it got out. No way we can take it down alone.” Matthews got the phone out and began dialing. “The fucker fooled them in the holding pen. He never drank the drugged blood and faked it. Who could tell the difference, I mean it is a corpse, right?”
When he got no reply he turned to his left, but Davis was gone. He groaned in frustration.
“Please tell me he didn’t go after it,” he whispered to himself, heading toward the corner. The hand on his shoulder had him jumping two feet in the air. “What the...”
The words died in his throat as he found himself face to fangs with one amused, blonde vampire.
“Your friend,” Spike pointed to the body in the bushes. “He was a bit gamey for my tastes.”
The agent tried to lift his taser, but one preternaturally strong hand held him in check as the other wrenched his head to the side.
“But you smell much sweeter.” And then fangs were in him. He screamed, dropping the phone and useless weapon. Both items clattered on the sidewalk causing Spike to growl as the man struggled against him, their bodies undulating in a beautifully tragic rhythm.
~Part: 46~
Cordelia’s eyes moved from left to right to left to right, staring almost hypnotized by the brunette vampire’s pacing. To his credit, Angel was explaining the benefits of frugal shopping and the wise use of credit and how a personal masseuse did not fit into either category. She had her own opinions on the matter, but kept them to herself while he droned on.
“And it took me a while to get it, but eventually I made the connection between late payments and higher interest rates.”
He faced her, shoving his hands in his pants pockets, a hopeful look on his angelic features.
“Angel, it’s Christmas in three days and I have no tree, no presents, no dinner plans and I’m stuck here with your dentally challenged family. If I want a massage, I’ll have a massage. And you’re paying for it!” She thumped him in the chest for emphasis, unaware of just how close the demon in him was to surfacing.
Angelus just adored this creature when she got like this and filled Angel’s overactive imagination with visions of whips and blood and begging each time she reared up on him. Now that he had claimed her, bedded her, the subject matter was more iniquitous than ever.
Suppressing the growl with considerable effort, he snatched her hand in mid-poke and pulled her to him.
“Please, Cordy, for your sake, stop challenging me. I can’t keep it together much longer.” Dropping her hand, he stormed out before she did anything to further inflame the situation.
“Hey!” Angel yelled. Willow and Eric froze at the door, caught like deer in headlights. “Where do you two think you’re going?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I...uh...” She didn’t have an excuse prepared because frankly she expected her grandsire and his newly claimed toy were about to have sex or something after the boring lecture he forced the seer to listen to. “A walk?” Her eyebrow went up as she bit her bottom lip.
“Get back inside,” Angel ordered. Glancing around, he asked, “Where the hell is Wes?”
The two young vampires glanced at each other and by silent agreement Eric went to the balcony, returning with a trussed up ex-watcher.
“You tied him up why?” He was outwardly calm, but the little redhead knew better than to let that lull her into a sense of security. Spike was nowhere around and she was so very busted.
“He was going on about how I had to stay in and I just knew he would go bother you. So I thought, hey, maybe if I tie him up, then Grandsire can get some and not be a sexually frustrated, moody vamp.”
He sighed, wondering if being an annoying little fledge was genetic. “Willow, I don’t need you to make sure I ‘get some.’”
“Right, cuz you’re fucking my Sire now and he spends all his time sucking-“
“Willow!” She jumped, as did Eric who was busy removing the gag from Wesley’s mouth. The ropes were tossed carelessly to the floor, giving Angel an idea. “Stop this now. One more outburst, touch Wes again, try to leave and I’ll tie you up and beat you myself. And trust me...you won’t recover for a week if I get ahold of your pretty little ass.”
~~~*~~~
Death.
Spike took more pleasure in dealing it than most. Today was no exception, and while he tossed the two corpses into the bushes, he hummed a little Ramones tune, vowing to stop at a record store before returning to the hotel. Angel had poncy crap for music, and if he was going to be stuck all day in that place he needed something to help pass the time.
Shagging Willow and Wesley was always good for about three or four of those long daytime hours, but she was young and he was human and they had only so much endurance. Somehow he predicted that his own sire would be wrapped up in a leggy seer and doubted he would be invited to that party...yet.
Satisfied with his cover-up efforts, he slipped into the shadows and made his way back to Kate’s little home. Everything was dark again inside and as he leaped the fence to the backyard he smiled. It had been a while since he had broken into a home and slaughtered its resident. A bold thrill shook his body, the demon rearing its evil, insatiable head. He let the power that he contained come out and peeked into a window, listening hard.
Kate was asleep. Her breathing told him that. With a silence that belonged to his kind alone he broke the lock on the back door and entered, undeterred by a barrier that was no longer there for him, and found himself in her kitchen. Taking in the details of the room, he quickly removed the knives and anything sharp or that poked deep from sight in case she got to running. Under the sink seemed as good a place as any. He did keep one, small, but wickedly sharp paring knife, dropping it into one of his pockets as he strolled toward her bedroom.
It always amazed his that humans slept so soundly when they were so terribly vulnerable. Without fail he entered home after home, much as he did tonight, and the occupants remained blissfully unconscious until he woke them. Sometimes he actually had to nudge the silly victim and wait for the fog to lift before getting the hefty dose of fear he was after. Those were the days when he wondered at the worthiness of it all.
And now, this lovely creature, dangerous in her own way, was sleeping like a baby, even as he lit a cigarette and settled into the chair to watch her for a while.
Her likeness to Darla, not so much feature-wise, but in haughty self-importance and crisp, precise judgment, was the appeal. It drew his sire in like the proverbial moth to the flame. Fortunately, good ole Spike was here to ensure Angelus did not get burned. He planned to snuff out that flame before anymore damage could be done.
His mind drifted to that folder and he stood quickly leaving her in favor of a hunt. He roamed from her room quietly and found what he was looking for quickly. She hadn’t bothered to hide it, so secure she was in her own domain. He chuckled and shook his head while opening he file. The picture of Willow was on top, now attached to another smaller piece of paper by a clip. It was hand-written notes and he recognized them as some of the pseudo-suggestions Angel had provided to her earlier that night. Underneath that was a larger paper, this one filled with more hand-written details of a conversation or meeting. He skimmed over the page, frowning when he saw the name Walsh. There was a copy of two police reports, composed by her as well, dictating the details of his childe’s antics. He breezed through those, seeing nothing that caught his eye, and turned to the last item in the folder.
Almost shocked, but not really, he let his features settle into a grin. He did not get to see himself often and was glad to confirm what he had always believed: He was a handsome bloke.
“Well, well,” he whispered. “Looks like our dear detective knows much more than she's been saying.” File in hand, he stalked his way to her room and sat on her bed without ceremony.
“Kate. Wake up, ducks,” he demanded in a low gravelly voice, shaking the pillow under her head.
She did, sitting up and drawing away from the danger instantly. “William. What are you doing her? Get out.” Her hand slipped under the covers, almost imperceptible. Almost.
His hand got there first, removing her gun.
He smile and held it out toward her. “Looking for this?” His face melted into a perfected pout. “You wouldn’t want to hurt me now, would you, Kate. We’re all friends here, right?”
Her eyes shifted between him and the gun as she nodded. “Yeah, friends. Where’s Angel?”
“Right now, probably shagging that cheerleader of his. She is a luscious thing. Not that you’re not a delicious creature yourself. But I’m not here to talk about that. Not now, at least. Later though, you can demonstrate the more charming aspects of your personality, yeah?”
“What the fuck do you want?” The hard edge of her voice was betrayed by the trembling that filtered through. She was angry and scared, and angry because she was scared. Her carefully constructed control was in danger of being shattered, and the things she dared not fathom were pounding on her door, demanding that they be let in and perceived, understood, believed.
He held up the picture of him. “Tell me a story, Kate. And it better be good.”
~~~*~~~
Xander sat on Willow’s bed, one hand running over the soft comforter as he held her pillow to his nose with the other. He fancied he could still smell her in these things and in some primordial way he probably could. Buffy watched him compassionately as this was something she did every night.
“So Riley know what’s happened to her and now you wanna tell them where she is?” he asked.
“No, I don’t want to, but what choice do we have? They’re killing people. She’s killing people. A lot of people.”
He closed his eyes, burying himself deeper into the not so imagined scents, and shook his head.
“No.”
“No?”
“Yeah, no....Willow is...was my friend forever. I don’t care if she’s a demon. I can’t let her go. I did that once and I can’t. Not again.”
Stretching out on the bed, he waited for the inevitable speech. In his mind he had already been over anything Buffy could say, and he knew what the right, logical choice was, but this was Willow and his heart ruled things concerning her. He was prepared to leave her alone and protect her from this Initiative as long as she stayed away from Sunnydale. Even then, he could not predict his reaction, but doubted that he could stake her. He loved her.
“I know,” Buffy replied, obviously not willing to make the arguments needed to get him to agree to the destruction of the redhead. “I can’t either.” She also knew that giving Willow and Spike up meant endangering Angel. That was another reason for her inability to do her job. She would talk to Angel tomorrow and try to convince him to make his evil little family leave the country, or at least the state.
~Part: 47~
Spike listened to his internal clock. There was not exactly a warning, but rather an ever-present eeriness that he felt down in the core of his being telling him that dawn was only a few hours away. He welcomed this as he did all his senses, although sometimes the awareness interfered with the spur-of-the-moment fun that he enjoyed. He shrugged it off easily and brought the blade to his mouth, running his tongue along its business end, and moaned. He had yet to finish playing with this delightfully stubborn creature.
Kate had long since determined to tell him nothing about the picture, her meeting with Maggie Walsh, or her suspicions about him and Willow. Those suspicions of course were confirmed at this point, but she reasoned that as long as he needed information from her then he would not kill her. Her logic, in theory, was sound and normally would give her a higher chance for survival. Police training had prepared her for this type of scenario.
Nothing had prepared her for him.
“Kate...” He walked around her, fingering the ties, nylon stocking, lovingly. “I must tell you how much I admire your...tenacity.” He let the word roll around his mouth, sampling it and deciding he did indeed find it adequate. “But...” The small knife sliced along her skin, taking a thin layer as she screamed into the sock stuff into her mouth. “I’m not a patient man, pet.”
Spike removed the sock and cocked his head to one side as she gasped and stifled her own sobs.
“Tell me and it can end.”
She shook her head just enough to convey her meaning, but even the small movement took considerable effort. The salt he had ground into some of the cuts made every motion bring her renewed agony.
“No.”
He thought as much. With a sigh he left her alone in the room. She tried to track his location but he was quickly out of her range. He was looking for something and whatever it was would not be good for her. There was a certainty in her life right now...it would end, fairly soon and grossly sooner than she had ever expected. The thought of dying created an odd pressure in her chest.
Her father. She squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears back lest William think them for him and what he was doing, and yet she had to ponder what her father would do, how he would survive this. A piece of her told her not to care. He was a selfish bastard who never got over the death of his precious wife and made his daughter pay for looking like the woman he lost, but she mostly felt pity.
The catlike footsteps broke into her morbid, yet strangely appropriate musings. He appeared, standing over her and grinning madly.
“I’ve found a new toy," he said melodically as he loaded something into a pillow case. “Oh, no fair peeking, Kate.” The pout on his lips would have been cute if he wasn’t a homicidal maniac. She lay there, helpless as he tore another pillow case into a strip and used it to blindfold her.
“Much better.” He sounded extremely satisfied, which was more frightening than in the beginning when he was angry glares and violent punches.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her breathing and heart rate increasing right along with her fear. Everything was connected.
“I’m deciding.”
Her mouth moved of its own accord, inquiring about things that her mind did not really want the answers to. “Deciding what?” Talking, if he was talking, then she knew where he was.
“How to hurt you most.”
She tried to scream as something hit her in the abdomen, but all her air was forced out by the blow, making any sound impossible for quite a few seconds. And then there was a great influx as her lungs got past the pain and remembered their job. But she never got the chance to cry out. The next blow made her convulse as the muscles rebelled at this abuse.
Spike watched it all with detached fascination at the human’s need for air and her body’s reaction to the depravation. His instrument of torture was a few bars of soap in a pillow case, tied off at the end so they were all packed together for the greatest concentrated impact. As he continued his assault, timing it perfectly so that she was not able to take that breath, never able to scream her pain, he wondered what it would take to get her to talk.
They had been at this for hours and he frankly wanted to get back to his childe and play games of a different sort. Well...maybe not so very different, but the line between pleasure and pain would be finely straddled when with his girl, unlike this horrifically beautiful extreme.
He stopped for a minute and waited while she thrashed and choked on her own body’s betrayal until finally the contractions stopped and she could breathe. The sounds she made were blood curdling and he trembled as his eyes closed, the ecstasy of her anguish flooding his senses.
“Bloody hell, woman,” he panted, favoring her with a grin that she could not see. “That was amazing. Let’s do it again, yeah?”
~~~*~~~
Angel came back from the balcony, the sun’s harmful rays chasing him inside to the safety of relative darkness.
Cordelia never understood the moments when she found him surrounded by shadows and often complained that he was brooding. He allowed her that illusion, but truthfully, he enjoyed sitting in a dim room, letting his thoughts roam until he was no longer the vampire with a soul, a supposed champion for the powers that be, and he was just Angel.
Right now he was feeling more like Angelus. He had a clan, a family, aside from the human one he had adopted. In this room was his blood, rich and powerful. It called him in a way nothing else had or ever would. The minion was a small blip on his radar, but there nonetheless, a get of his get. Willow was a strong pulse, pulling at him like the moon.
And there was Spike, who affected him so profoundly that it was hard being around him without giving in to the demonic pleasures the blonde conjured in his mind.
He growled, low and unheard by everything human. The other vampires heard it fine and both glanced up to see Angel staring at the door.
“Where the hell is he?”
Willow was certain nothing was wrong. The bond she shared with her sire was as strong as ever and she felt nothing but a deadly cheerfulness flowing through it.
“I’m sure he’s okay,” the redhead offered as consolation. She wanted him to return as well, but Spike was Spike, and was not going to be reporting in to please either of them.
“I am too. That’s the problem. He’s too okay and up to something.”
Willow and Eric exchanged a look, but neither had a clue as to what Angel was talking about.
Her grandsire jumped as if shot in the behind and angrily pulled the vibrating cell phone from his pants pocket.
“Angel,” he snapped, glaring at the two snickering vampires.
“It’s me. Who put a stick up your butt?”
“Buffy...Hey.” His voice went soft and Willow rolled her eyes. “It’s kinda early for you. Is something up?”
“Not apocalyptically. I just figured this was bedtime for you. So what’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing really. Just Spike....” he trailed off like just the name itself explained everything.
“Right. That’s kinda what I called you about.”
~~~*~~~
“I’m getting voicemail again.”
Agent Finn had been calling the field agents dispatched to tail Detective Lockley. A call from their assigned cell phone came in about five hours ago, but it was dead when he picked up the line. For the first hour Riley was not concerned, but when they did not call in at the scheduled time, he raised the flag.
During the last check-in Matthews confirmed that the subject had retired for the evening. They were due to check in again at 2am and again at 5am. Having missed both, the soldier knew something was amiss. He considered sending more agents out to the area, but did not want to risk the lives. Hostile-17 and Willow had already killed enough of his men.
“Do you want to try the subject?” asked Panache, a small bookish man sitting in front of a computer.
“No...no, it’ll just alert her that we’re watching.”
“Then what? The men are dead.”
Riley made a strained face, but remained silent.
“They’re well trained and would not be AWOL like this without good reason, sir. Death is pretty hard to beat.”
Nodding, he scanned the room, as if an idea would pop out at him from the walls.
“Your girlfriend...” Panache faltered when Riley glared at him, but pressed on. “She’s that legendary slayer, right?” At the tall man’s nod he grew bolder. “Why not send her after them?”
“Because...she’s not Initiative... and she won’t do it anyway,” he added.
“Why not?”
He got a far away look in his eyes, whispering, “She has her reasons.”
“I’m not letting them kill anyone, Riley.”
“Really? Because the way I see it, that’s exactly what you’re doing. What’s going on with you, Buffy? Willow I kinda get, not really, but I’m trying...but the hostile, you can’t think he’ll be controlled.”
“He is being controlled.”
“What? They’ve killed dozens of Initiative personnel over the last month.”
“He could have killed more. Everyone, if he wanted to but, he left town and the Initiative followed him. Even I know better than to go after him.”
Riley considered what she said. They did hunt him down, but he took that disc. Riley had no clue what it contained, but it made Walsh more nervous than she like to appear. He only needed to know that it was important to her. He let his gaze fall on his girlfriend, eyes narrowing. Something that she just said struck him as odd.
“Wait a minute. Do you know him?”
Buffy’s stare never wavered. “In a way. I mean, not know him, know him. But we’ve bumped heads.”
“And?”
She shrugged. “He’s not dust.”
“Why would that be?”
She sighed. This was not something that she enjoyed admitting and the memories were suppressed for most of the time. Until he showed up in Sunnydale to wreak a little havoc before moving on again. Then she thought about their confrontations often.
“He came to town when I was a junior in high school. His plan was to kill me. He’d done it before.”
“Killed you?” Riley squawked.
She rolled her eyes at his obtuseness. “He’s killed two slayers. I was supposed to be his third.”
“So what, you’re afraid of this guy?”
“Oh hell no!” She glanced around at the other patrons, but most were too involved in their own worlds to care about her small outburst. “If I see him, I’ll totally kick his ass...I just seem to have a hard time actually killing him. He’s good.” She pouted, and if Riley hadn't been so angry with her be would have found it adorable.
“So you know him.” Before she could correct him he held up a finger to quiet her and did it himself. “In a way...and he’s killed two slayers and he’s avoided the pointy end of your stake as much as you’ve avoided his fangs. Do I have this right?”
“Pretty much?”
“I still don’t get why you are protecting him. If anything, you should want the asshole dead.”
“Spike’s mine to kill. And technically, he is dead already,” she advised him helpfully. She got a glare for her trouble and she shrunk back from his stare.
“Spike? Spike? You know his name now. What else aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing...”
~~~*~~~
Delightfully stubborn was quickly becoming annoyingly obstinate.
The girl was a treat, feeding his demon’s need for pleasant suffering in a way no one had in a good while. Yet as enjoyable as she was, he was now certain that he was stuck in her house for the day, and unless he planned to destroy her mind in the process, the bitch was not talking.
There was a way. It lurked in the back of his mind always and it was foolproof, but had its drawbacks. The main one being an astronomically brassed off sire. A chuckled erupted from his lips and she flinched from the sound, bringing her back to his mind. It struck him as odd how he could think about her and not be thinking of her in the sense that she was right in front of him, quivering and terrified.
He stood up and walked over to the window from which he had spied on her earlier. Pink was beginning to stain the horizon, hinting at the coming dawn.
Watching him through sweat and blood dampened strands of hair, she hoped that he would kill her soon. Telling him now seemed like a waste. After all the pain and humiliation she had endured at his hand, to just give in now for the promise of some kind of peace seemed like a betrayal to her own suffering. It was this thought that kept her mouth shut, even as she screamed in mind-blowing agony.
Vampires.
Both he and Angel. And Angel, her friend, had kept quiet about it, had introduced this crazed thing, William, into her life and left her alone to cope with the blonde. She knew that she hated Angel just a little for that, but prayed every minute that he would appear. Somehow she was certain that he knew nothing of this and would put a stop to it if he did.
None of her prayers were being answered, however. The vampire and chief focus of her seething anger was still there, finding new ways to torment her. She took deep breaths while he seemed to be taking a break. Hopefully, he was tired of this and would leave soon...or kill her. Either was fine.
He came back from the window, favoring his new butterfly with a curious gaze. She had no idea what was behind those cold blue eyes, but would have tried to find a way to kill herself if she had known.
“I’m stuck here for the day, pet. Vampire and all. So what say you make this worth my while?"
She groaned, expecting another round of Beat, Burn or Batter the Cop. “Whatever, asshole. I’ll see you in Hell before I tell you anything.”
He chuckled and sucked on one of those inhumanly long canines. “Funny you should say that...”
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