Title: Hurricane, Chapter 7: Eye of the Hurricane

Author: Sandy S.

E-mail: ssoennin@juno.com

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN.

Spoilers: Set a few years after season 6

Dedication: For Thia...who is a new and dear friend and whose creativity inspires me! :o)

Summary: Dawn, a lot of blood, a disappearance, a search. Buffy’s worst nightmare comes true. Buffy’s POV. Buffy, Angel, Dawn, Xander, Anya, and Willow are flying to Alaska to rescue Spike. Okay, this is an explanatory chapter....

Eye of the Hurricane

The jet was large with a few separate rooms furnished with sleeping accommodations. No traces of magick or technological espionage were found. Willow was the first to race to a room for sleep, and despite my slayer strength and my curiosity about what Angel knew about Garrek, I wasn’t complaining. We all needed to rest before we could even discuss the events that had been occurring, much less rescue Spike.

Dawn and I were paired together in one room, Xander and Anya in another, and Willow was already fast asleep in a third. Angel remained awake in the main seating area, and Dawn had yet to join me because she was completing her before bedtime ritual. Lying back against the soft mattress and thick pillow, I relished the cool dryness of the air conditioner and the sweet clean scent of the bed linens after the damp humidity of the southern states. Of course, I’d probably be sick of the cold by the time we departed Alaska. Determined to not think about anything important, I shut my eyes, curling into the fetal position on my side. My back remained tender from the two fairly adjacent fights.

An untold number of minutes later, Dawn entered the room and sank heavily beneath the sheets next to me. I sensed her positioning her body facing me. I didn’t say a word but wasn’t shocked when Dawn whispered to me.

“Buffy?”

“Ummm.”

“Are you awake?”

I slitted my eyes at her. “Yea.”

Watching me in the dim light of the nightlight, Dawn stated, “I need to talk with you about something.”

“Sure. By the way, how’s your ankle?”

“Much better but still a little sore. I guess I didn’t sprain it after all. It just sorta felt like it. Anya made me an ice pack to use later after we get some sleep.”

“Umm. Makes sense.” I opened my eyes wider and tucked my left hand under my cheek. “What’d you want to talk with me about?”

“Daniel.”

Ah, I was wondering if she’d come to me about Daniel being a vampire, planning her kidnap, and being dusted. I’d let her tell me, though, and wouldn’t put words in her mouth. “What about him?”

“It finally hit me that he’s gone. While I was brushing my teeth. I guess, I didn’t fully realize what happened until I had a moment to myself.”

Funny how revelations like that come at the oddest moments. “Yea?”

Her voice took on a somber tone. “Well, I know he was a vampire and all...meaning he was evil...and he did things for his own selfish gain. But, he was my friend, too. I mean, even though he hurt me really badly in our friendship, I still cared about him.”

“Just because he changed and started doing horrible things doesn’t mean you can turn off your feelings or ignore the relationship you had in the past with him,” I reminded her and myself. A memory of the feelings I retained for Angel after he lost his soul and began stalking me and hurting my friends flashed through my mind. “And it doesn’t make it any easier to see him die in front of you.”

“I guess.” She paused. “It was pretty horrible, huh? Kidnapping me to gain respect from Garrek. Making it look like Spike did something terrible to me.”

“But, you know, Daniel will never do that to anyone again.”

Dawn didn’t respond for a few minutes. Then, she asked, “Buffy, why are people always coming up with sick ways to kidnap me or hurt me? I mean, first Wright and now Daniel. Is there something wrong with me?”

My reaction was swift. “No, no, Dawnie. Nothing’s wrong with you. Something really traumatic happened to each of them and influenced their behavior. I mean, Wright’s parents were turned by vampires, and he had to kill them himself. He sorta went looney. And Daniel’s sister was always sick, which put a lot of pressure on him. Then, he got turned, which wasn’t his fault. Actually, neither of them were at fault for their situation. But, the bottom line is that each of them chose to react the way they did in the circumstances, and you just happened to be standing in their path.” Our conversation echoed traces of the recent conversation I’d had with Willow during our trip to New Orleans.

We smiled at each other in the darkness.

Forcing her voice to sound brighter, Dawn noted, “I’m never talking to another boy again.”

I snorted lightly. “Uh, huh. We’ll see how long that one lasts after we get back home, and the phone starts ringing.”

She giggled and then, sobered, “I’m really worried about Spike.”

Tears filled my eyes as my stomach dropped in renewed anxiety. “Me, too.”

“What do you think whoever it is wants from him? With us?”

“I don’t know, Dawnie. I sure hope Angel has a clue.”

Protectively, my sister patted my shoulder. “Angel will know. And we’ll rescue Spike, and it’ll all be okay.”

“Yea.” I tried not to be too defeated.

“Don’t worry, I’ll bet he’s okay...no matter what they’re doing to him. He knows we love him and are coming for him. It’ll get him through whatever they toss at him.”

“I hope so,” I murmured, tucking a strand of Dawn’s long straight hair behind her ear.

“I know so.”

Silence fell, and my eyelids filled with lead until I couldn’t keep them open any longer. On the edge of my dreams, I heard Dawn’s voice again as if from the end of a tunnel.

“You know what Daniel told me before Garrek staked him?”

My answer was a tad slow. “Mmm. What?”

Almost inaudibly, she said, “He told me that the human inside of him loved me and cherished our friendship in the past. He said he was sorry for hurting me.”

Taken aback, I didn’t know quite what to say.

Dawn didn’t wait. “Do you think that could be possible? That he could have a human piece inside that felt remorse?”

Scanning over my jumbled thoughts and personal theories about Spike, Angel, and other vampires, I came to a moderately firm conclusion. “I don’t honestly know. And, I don’t know if I’ll ever know the answer to that one.”

“I never got to talk with him about the whole Amalia thing. We never fixed things between us.” She hesitated. “I-I lost a friend.” Tears spread thin salty tracks over her skin, probably burning the wound on her eye and cheek.

Letting her pour out her grief, I ran my hand over her soft hair. “Yea, Dawnie, that you did.”

* * *

Dawn and I were the last to arrive at the meeting in the main seating area. The chairs were arranged in a circle, and Willow sat with her legs and feet underneath her, her short hair pulled into a ponytail, and a mug of steaming coffee cupped in her hands. His hair slightly mussed as if he’d been running his fingers through the brown locks nervously, Angel leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped in front of him. He peered up at me as I followed Dawn into the room, silently telegraphing me the remnant of the connection that would always remain between us. Xander lounged back in his chair, studying his breakfast burrito intently before taking each bite. Despite his collected demeanor, I could see the tightness in his jaw. Anya leaned against his shoulder, picking at her own burrito.

Dawn grabbed a large burrito and two cups of orange juice off the serving cart and plopped down next to Anya, graciously leaving me the seat next to Willow. She tore the burrito in half and handed me a portion along with a cup of juice, which I took gratefully. After a few seconds, I found everyone watching me expectantly.

“So,” I began, “I thought we’d start with what Angel knows and then branch off to tell what we’ve each learned about the situation. Hopefully, it’ll all be less confusing that way.”

Angel cleared his throat.

Xander sighed and sat up. “Time for Angel’s melodramatic storytelling time,” he muttered, half out of the habit of picking on Angel and half trying to be silly and falling flat.

Angel glared at him, but Anya was curious. “Is that bad?”

Seeing that everyone was staring at him, Xander grumbled, “No.” After a moment, he added, “I wish Spike was here. He’d understand.”

Dawn and I exchanged knowing looks. Spike would understand all right. He and Xander would be egging each other on, especially with Angel present, and nothing would ever get done.

Wisely, everyone ignored Xander’s last comment, and Angel began, “Years before Spike or Dru ever came on the scene, Darla and I were part of the Master’s court.”

I shuddered slightly at the mention of the Master, the ancient vampire who had briefly killed me during the first year I lived in Sunnydale. Willow must have noticed because she patted my arm.

“During that time, I sired my first vampire...Garrek. He was an American senator visiting England, and his name was different then. He was independently wealthy, and he was attractive as a first childe because he was hungry for power and money. I observed him for a time before approaching him on the last day of his trip. He had an entourage with him but lacked the finesse to control them well. I didn’t want to sire a childe who would take over my position in the Master and Darla’s eyes and figured I could control him.”

Angel took a deep, unnecessary breath, and no one interrupted him. “I’ll never forget the night I sired him. He had gone to dinner with a couple of members of Parliament and was returning to his hotel with his bodyguards. I waited for him in the elevator. As soon as the doors opened, and the guards ducked in to check out the elevator, I knocked one man out and snapped the other’s neck. I didn’t give Garrek a choice. I just drank from his trembling body. His blood was infiltrated with alcohol, which gave me an extra giddy feeling.”

I had a hard time picturing Angel giddy.

“I sired him by the time we reached his floor. After drinking of one of his guards, I dragged the senator unconscious to his hotel room. Darla waited for me in the tiny living room. His entourage huddled terrified in the corner of the bedroom suite. When he woke up hours later, he was starving. We fed him the members of his office, including his mistress. When he had his fill, Darla and I ate. There was one child, a ten-year-old boy, among his group, whom we saved for last. Darla wanted the boy, but when she pulled him close, Garrek reached up a hand to stop her.”

“Really?” Anya commented in surprise.

Angel nodded. “Yes. At first, Darla was angry, but she saw the desperation in Garrek’s eyes and decided to humor him. Imagine her amusement when Garrek said that the boy was his son. He explained to Darla and me that he wanted to raise his son and then turn him when he got old enough. Darla was intrigued, so she forgo eating the child, and we took Garrek and his son to the Master.”

Xander was chewing with his mouth partly agape. “What happened then?”

“The Master was a little annoyed at having a human child in his court, but when Darla explained Garrek’s plan, the Master asked to see the boy. When he saw the child, he was immediately drawn to the possibilities. The Master decided that he wanted to raise the child himself...as kind of a protégé. He told Garrek that he could visit his son as often as he wanted but that he would not be allowed to raise his son. Garrek agreed to be trained in the dark magicks and to let the Master train his son with the understanding that one day, his son would be a vampire of great power and influence.”

“Sounds sorta similar to the Master turning the Anointed One,” Willow interrupted, referring to the child vampire that led me to the Master in Sunnydale.

“Yea,” Angel acknowledged. “The Master likely turned the Anointed One so quickly because he wanted a sire’s influence over him. He never had that with Garrek’s son, and Garrek’s son eventually rebelled.”

“Did Garrek’s son have a name?” I asked.

“That’s the thing. The Master never gave him a name and never allowed the name his human parents gave him to be spoken. He told the boy that he would be given a great and powerful name when he became a vampire. The Master didn’t coddle the boy. He made him work for everything...food, clothing, shelter, affection. Frequently, he tortured the boy so that he would know real pain and would know what he was inflicting on others in the future. At the same time, the Master taught the boy everything that he knew about manipulating others...humans, vampires, and other types of demon. He even taught the boy to manipulate his own father. Funny thing is that the child grew to hate the Master for the pain he put him through. And he used the Master’s own tricks against him. He formed a rebellion within the court. Garrek became his second in command, and together, they defeated the Master and left the court. Darla and I were gone by that time, traveling on our own. We heard about it through the demon world while we were in Egypt.”

“What happened to Garrek’s relationship with you?” Dawn’s expression said that she was drinking in every detail of the story.

“Although Garrek remained connected to me as my childe, he was mostly trained by the Wicca vampires in our group. We never had much of a sire-childe relationship, but I maintained some power over him. Really, no matter how well he gained a grasp of the dark magicks, he never was a powerful vampire. I suppose his power-hungry nature made him weak. He and his son disappeared for several years after the coup. Darla was angry, and at the time, I was furious that my childe would do something like to the Master. Out of the blue, Garrek approached Darla and I after I’d sired Drusilla and Dru had sired Spike. It was before the Boxer Rebellion...before I was cursed with a soul.”

“So, that’s what Spike meant when he said he had some theories about what’s going on,” I said in an effort to make sense of my short conversation with Spike. “He must have met Garrek before.”

“That’s probably what he meant.” Angel continued, “He came to us quite unexpectedly, asking questions about the Master and such. He said he wanted back in the Master’s good graces. Darla strung him to the wall and spent several hours with Dru, torturing him. After Darla felt he’d endured enough, she let him join us. Spike never trusted him. Dru said it was because he was jealous, but it turned out Spike was right. Garrek was with us for four months before we woke in the middle of the day with the house where we were staying burning to the ground around us. We barely escaped with our lives. Garrek was nowhere to be found. We confirmed through the demon world that he had pumped us for information on the Master because his son was looking for him.”

“Did the son ever take a name?” Dawn wondered aloud.

“He’s taken many names. He changes it often...for safety’s sake.”

“*Changes* his name?” Xander pointed out. “A vampire who changes his name. Hmm.”

“Actually, he’s not a vampire.”

“Does that mean this *human* guy is still alive?”

“Yes.”

“But, how? How can he possibly be alive?” Xander was incredulous. So was I.

“Plenty of ways,” Anya responded. “It’s fairly easy, actually.”

Angel confirmed Anya’s answer, “The way the son does it is through magicks. In essence, Garrek keeps his son alive. He channels the magicks he gains through various rituals through himself and passes the strength and power onto his son.”

“That explains the K-whatever-they’re-called demon ritual with the men that Willow, Spike, and I freed,” I realized. “And the ritual he was performing on Dawn.”

Willow seemed to be concentrating because she had the fingers of one hand to her temple. “So, does that mean his son can do magicks as well?”

“No. Garrek’s son is only kept alive and less vulnerable to attack with the magicks. He has no ability to use the magicks to cast spells.”

“Why wasn’t the son ever turned like Garrek wanted him to be?” I asked.

Angel glanced at me. “Because his son didn’t wish to be a vampire.”

“Oh.” I thought for a moment. “Since Garrek’s technically no longer undead but really dead, does that mean that his son is vulnerable?”

Angel was certain. “Yes. Garrek was likely his main and most powerful source.”

“Why ‘most powerful’?” Xander queried.

“Because of the bond between father and son,” Angel said with conviction.

I felt confused. “What evidence do you have that Spike’s with Garrek’s son in Alaska?”

“Simple. That’s where Garrek’s son has been.”

“What?!” I slid to the edge of my seat, not believing what Angel was saying. “You mean to tell me that he’s been somewhere in Alaska all this time and no one ever did anything about it?”

“Yes. In Anchorage, to be exact.”

Dawn piped up, “How come you didn’t say anything sooner?”

Angel was resigned. “Because I made a deal with Garrek and his son after I gained my soul and moved to the United States. We actually met a few times after I started helping you in Sunnydale, Buffy. I would leave them alone as long as they kept to themselves and didn’t make any grandiose plans to conquer the world or do anything else equally venomous. And I wasn’t sure at first whether Garrek and his son were involved in this latest vampire scheme.”

“How did you figure it out?” I demanded.

“Well, after I spoke with Willow on the phone about what happened with Dawn and Spike...”

I spun to fix a steely glare on Willow. “You called Angel? I thought we agreed it would stay among the Sunnydale gang until we had more information.”

Without hesitation, Willow met my gaze head on. “You were so distraught that I didn’t figure you were thinking straight. I wanted Angel to maybe investigate the house...to see if there was anything we missed. So, he came to Sunnydale while we went to Louisiana. That’s how he knew where to find us in Texas....”

Angel took over, “And I simply walked into the house and knew.” He caught my questioning expression. “I smelled Garrek as soon as I walked into the house...and some other unfamiliar humans.”

Dawn frowned and then, realized something, “They had other teenagers working for them. I didn’t remember before, but it’s clearer now. I invited the two guys in from school, and they had Garrek with them, so I technically invited him, too....” She trailed off, turning to me.

“And Daniel,” I finished for her.

“I didn’t sense magicks,” Willow inserted.

Angel nodded again. “You wouldn’t. Garrek’s an extremely talented and powerful warlock. He can hide his magicks trail easily. But, he can’t hide his trace from his sire.”

“Okay, I understand about the blood, but how did they get Spike and his car to Oklahoma so fast?” Xander inquired, raising his hand to his lips.

“Well, it wasn’t magicks,” Willow contemplated. “So, probably, a plane.”

“And they went to all that trouble to what? Get Buffy out of Sunnydale?”

“Yep,” Dawn upheld, throwing away her empty orange juice cup. “So they could take over Sunnydale. And to get the energy from me for Garrek’s son.”

“Still doesn’t explain the dusted vamps in the mansion,” Anya pointed out.

“Or the female vampire who was with Spike and injected him with that needle...except that she’s obviously working for the bad guys,” I added.

“What’s the point of all this? I mean, what’s the end result they’re looking for?” Dawn crossed her arms.

Anya spoke automatically, “Why money and power, of course!”

Angel’s voice was quiet, “That’s true of Garrek but not his son.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What does his son want?”

“He just enjoys the ride...the outcome of the manipulation. It’s what the Master taught him. And, he’s probably expecting us.”

end chapter seven

Title: Hurricane, Chapter 8: Riding Out the Chaos

Author: Sandy S.

E-mail: ssoennin@juno.com

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN.

Spoilers: Set a few years after season 6

Dedication: For Thia...who is a new and dear friend and whose creativity inspires me! :o)

This chapter is also for my friend and sweet neighbor, Sarah, whom I’ve made a character in most of my stories. In this one, she wanted to be a witch, and she helped me brainstorm how the events were to unfold. So, this is for you, Sarah, dear!

Summary: Dawn, a lot of blood, a disappearance, a search. Buffy’s worst nightmare comes true. Spike’s POV. What’s happening to Spike in Alaska?

Riding Out the Chaos

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

My senses were suddenly filled with sharp pain and the sound of skin contacting my own skin, igniting all the nerves in my cheek and jaw. My eyes flew open.

“Callie?”

Her pale face surrounded by a cascade of red curls, Callie smiled down at me. Her grey eyes glittered with malice, and I realized she had her long legs around my waist, pinning me to the platform I laid atop. My hands and feet were bound tightly with heavy chains. I was in a large cavern that had been modernized with dim electric lights. I couldn’t see any other furniture in the open space, but heard the faint hum of central heat and the soft clicking of what sounded like electronic equipment...computers, video equipment, or something.

An unfamiliar masculine voice sounded behind me, “Her name’s not actually Callie.” To no avail, I strained to catch a glimpse of who was speaking. “It’s Calypso. She’s my pride and joy. I named her after the sea nymph who captured Odysseus in Greek mythology.”

“‘Concealer,’” I said with irony. My memory for the past few conscious events seeped slowly through my mind.

The deep-throated chuckle was not what I expected. “Ah, a well-read vampire. I am surprised that any vampire that ran in Angel and Darla’s circles would be educated. After all, Angelus was a drunken bar brawler, and Darla was a prostitute...no matter what kind of fancy clothes and airs they wore.”

I growled under my breath and said, “I should have known that the unbearably annoying Jonah was behind this scheme.”

“My name is no longer Jonah. I’m no longer ‘the dove.’”

Straining my body against the cold metal, I laced my tone with sarcasm, “So, what name did you choose this time? Hopefully, something that means idiot ponce and psycho rolled into one.”

“Walter, I chose Walter,” he said proudly.

“‘Powerful warrior’? That’s a good one.” I tried to arch my neck back. “Why don’t you come around front, so I can see you? You bloody well have me tied down at the moment, and I like to see the one I’m talking to.” I shifted my hips, trying to throw Callie...Calypso to the side. She clung to my body tightly. “And tell your bird to get off of me.”

“Calypso, come.”

With an eagerness that made me roll my eyes, Calypso sprang from me and hurried toward the person that strode into my field of vision. Grabbing my captor’s arm, she snuggled against him and gazed up at him with puppy-dog eyes. I frowned at the sight because my brain was still having trouble contemplating that the Callie from Oklahoma was the Calypso who betrayed me. I followed the line of her body to take in Walter, or whatever his name was now.

I knew Garrek’s son had to be around two hundred years old and should be long dead and rotting in the ground, but the man before me appeared to be only around forty. His hair was thick, dark, and greying slightly around the temples. He had a slender frame and wore a pair of casual dark slacks and a dark blue shirt. Unlike Garrek, he was clean shaven, and he wore a pair of thin glasses without frames perched on his nose. I reasoned that Garrek’s magicks couldn’t give him twenty-twenty vision. He could have been easily mistaken for a young professional in corporate America.

“What’re you staring at so hard, my boy. Never seen a vampire and human in love before?” He took a moment to brush his lips across Calypso’s hand, which he clasped in his. “Oh, wait, you are in love with a human girl...the *Vampire Slayer*...killer of your kind, no less. Her name’s Buffy, right?” He laughed when he witnessed the flinch I tried and failed to hold back. “It’s going to be great fun when she and her friends arrive.” I was proud that I was able to hold back my reaction at his second provocative statement.

Calypso grinned adoringly at Walter. He stroked her hair in much the same way I used to touch Drusilla...only this time, the female wasn’t the insane one. While they were distracted with each other, I tested the chains once again, hoping desperately for a weak point.

Walter clamped an icy hand on my forearm. “Nope, young fellow. You’ll be free of your chains soon enough, but not quite yet.” He smiled condescendingly when I ceased squirming to glare at him. “Now, tell me, do you have any questions? I’d be happy to answer them at this time. I’m quite delighted with the results of my scenario so far.”

“This is just a game to you, isn’t it, you sodding bastard?” I blurted, not bothering to hide my disdain.

When his smile widened, I wanted to claw his eyes out like Drusilla used to do with her victims or when she didn’t particularly like someone. In a frightening sort of way, he reminded me of myself when Drusilla and I used to cook up schemes to take over different cities. The difference was that now, I had a soul, felt remorse for the past, and was absolutely certain that I had *never* been as twisted as Walter. Dru and I had always limited ourselves to the conquering of the demon world in a particular area...not the human populace.

“Excellent opening question! Why, yes, I only engage in this sort of activity for personal amusement. I mean, my father wanted the money and the power. Me? I just enjoy the manipulation. I like to pick at a person’s weak points and watch them crumble before me. I derive great pleasure out of planning each step of the sequence of events so that I may attain maximum pain in another person...human or demon. It’s quite fun to see them going about doing things that they think they chose to do but that *I* actually orchestrated myself. The way they react to certain events or to each other...I like knowing that I created that reaction. And I am especially pleased that they know nothing about my part of their predicament.”

“Except this time, we have you at a disadvantage because you’ve revealed yourself.”

“This time,” he countered, “I wanted my actions to be known and confronted. Let’s just say, I’m getting quite a rush out of knowing that you are aware of the situation and yet, are powerless to stop it. For you see, that, too, was part of my plan. Buffy’s on her way with all her little friends, and there’ll be surprises waiting for her.”

As Walter revealed his true nature, Calypso was rubbing herself leisurely against him and pressing small kisses and nips on his neck. I tried to block her out, hardly able to stand looking at her. “So, you planned everything? You set up the situation with Dawn and I to make it look like I hurt Dawn. You set up the card game with Paul and Callie. You purposefully left a trail for us to find Garrek. You had the demon ritual planted, so we could free the humans.”

He clapped joyfully. “Yes, my dear boy, yes! Now you’re getting it! I planned everything.”

“But, why the hell would you lead our group to Garrek...the source of your ability to stay alive? Doesn’t seem too smart if you ask me.”

“Yes, sadly, my father was killed. But, then again, that was planned, too.” Walter leaned in close so that his nose almost touched my own. I slipped instantly into game face and snapped at him. He calmly took a step back. “No. I don’t think so. I want to finish telling you my story. Where was I?...Oh, yes. My father. I was ready for him to die. I mean, if you lived under your father’s shadow for about two hundred years or so, wouldn’t you want him gone from your life? I need to stand on my own feet...so I can truly lay claim to my work.”

“Got a little inferiority complex going there, Walt?” I taunted. “Kind of like what you had going with the Master, isn’t it?”

He stuck his bottom lip out in a half-pout. “No. I just wanted to get both of those idiots out of my life. I always knew my father and the Master were less than me, but for some reason, I never got full credit.”

“How are you surviving? I mean, technically, you should be quite dead without Garrek’s magicks sustaining you.”

“Funny you should ask. I have others to assist me in the matter of survival but mainly the one you’re about to meet.” Walter raised his arm, pushing Calypso away and motioning toward the shadows. “Sayre! Come out, my sweet princess. Time to play.”

A statuesque, youthful vampiress with clear ivory skin, hazel eyes, and auburn hair pulled up in a chignon with a few stray curls framing her face glided noiselessly across the floor to Walter’s side. She was cloaked in a long flowing indigo blue dress that floated about her like a stream of water. In her arms, she carried a long-haired, orangish-red cat who lazily stared with wide golden eyes at his surroundings as if he was a miniature lion surveying his territory.

Her voice was like a thousand silvery bells that confused my thoughts, “Yes?”

Walter kissed her cheek. “Sayre, meet Spike. He’s the one I told you that you were going to be allowed to play with.”

At his words, Sayre turned to me, hungrily raking her sparkling eyes over my body. “Really?” Her tone was not childish or overly eager, just contemplative, like she was examining a piece of meat for purchase.

“Yes, my sweet. He’s all yours.”

“Good.” She swayed hypnotically toward me.

Walter motioned to Calypso, who regained her hold on him. He turned and as he was walking away, he said saucily, “I’m going now, my dear boy. Don’t kill him, Sayre. We need him alive. I’ll be watching you both.”

* * *

With Walter gone, Sayre approached me with feline grace and set her cat down at my feet. “Occam, little puss, time to help your mommy.”

Occam meowed at his mistress and began padding his way silently up my body until he reached my abdomen and chest. When he arrived at my bare skin, he started kneading his paws and purring in a low tone. His claws were like needles digging deep into my skin, and I felt blood begin flowing down the sides of my rib cage. As the intensity of his kneading increased, the volume of his purrs amplified. When the cat’s sound of contentment reached a maximum, I thought my eardrums might burst.

Without warning, the sound ended, and the warm, solid animal on my stomach suddenly melted into an orange liquid mass that was swallowed into my flesh. My nostrils were filled with the sharp essence of cinnamon that tickled and stung the back of my throat.

Something in my flesh began moving, and I lifted my head to view my bare skin. I stared in shock. Little worms were wiggling and pushing into and out of the tissues covering my skeleton. A horrible smell of rotting skin punctuated the movements, and I had a strong urge to scratch myself and relieve the itching.

I turned my head and tried to ignore the sights, smell, and crawling feeling that permeated my senses. Rebelling against my efforts, my stomach knotted and turned, and before I knew what was happening, bile rose up the back of my throat. Although I fought valiantly, I was unable to prevent the bile from exploding out of my mouth and nose. I heaved until my body could heave no more. Then, I sank back covered in sweat, feeling drained of energy. My wrists ached and bled from the pressure against the chains.

Several minutes passed.

Gradually, my senses returned to normal, and I discovered that I still had a voice, albeit a hoarse one, “You think that’s enough to break me, witch?”

Sayre appeared quietly at my side. “Ahhh, no, I was just testing you out...to see what you can take.”

Waving her hand over my face, she chanted a barely audible incantation. My mouth was instantly refreshed and tasted like peppermints. Sayre bent over me, filling my mind with pictures of sunshine and wildflowers. Her mouth was soft as her lips pressed over mine, and she tasted of cherries and wine. I refused to kiss her back and concentrated on my memories of Buffy...the last time I had seen her...fighting...worried...beautiful. Sayre flicked her tongue over my teeth and then, moved away.

“I just needed a tiny taste to get things just right for you,” she murmured gently. The shadows swallowed her....

* * *

At that moment, I found myself free of the chains and in a squatting position in the middle of a huge field covered in short stones that stuck up from the grass...a cemetery. I felt and smelled the presence of five other vampires behind me. Leaping lightly to my feet, I turned to face my adversaries in an attack position.

“Spike! What are you doing?” one of the vampires hissed.

“What’s it sodding look like I’m doing, mate? I’m fighting you!” I swung my leg up and kicked the vampire in the stomach. He fell to the dirt with a satisfyingly loud groan. Scooping up a sturdy branch nearby, I jammed the wood into my adversary’s heart, causing him to explode into a cloud of dust.

The four other vampires seemed briefly stunned. At once, they ran toward me, throwing punches and kicks and dodging my blows. They were poor fighters. I overcame them within seconds. About to stalk away and find my way out of wherever I was, I whirled and was pinned down by a large hulking bearded figure.

“Garrek! I thought you were dead.”

Garrek chuckled, pulling me to my feet. “Not in this lifetime, boy!”

“What’s with the ‘boy’ comments?” Walter and now Garrek kept calling me “boy,” which was grating my nerves.

A sharp crack resounded as Garrek slapped me to the ground. He was a rather large vampire and possessed more strength than I remembered. “I don’t take insolence from *any* of my minions, and certainly not from you!” He dragged me up by the nape of my neck. “And what the hell did you do to your superiors?” He gestured at the four vampires who were slowly regaining consciousness.

“Superiors? That bunch? They couldn’t hurt a fruit fly!” I stood, rubbing my jaw.

Garrek flicked his wrist at me, and I was suspended in the air. “I will not tolerate your behavior.” He glanced at my attackers and grunted, “Take him home and do something with him while I hunt!”

The other vampires, whose appearance remained shrouded in shadows despite my vampire visual acuity, forced me to a mausoleum with multiple rooms on the north end of the cemetery. The vampires chained me to the top of a tomb and proceeded to inflict various forms of torture on me. They stripped me naked. One vampire began pouring holy water down my chest, abdomen, thighs, and shins. The hiss of burned skin filled the air, and I focused on the noise and bit my lip hard to prevent crying out in pain. Another vampire took a knife and carved elaborate cross designs on my arms. Once the cross was complete, the pattern itself began to burn, drawing blood and singeing my flesh at the same time. I heard and smelled my blood dripping onto the tile below.

The third vampire, a female, started with my toes and broke each one individually, laughing at each crunching sound emitted by the ripping of my tendons and muscles and the breaking of my bones. When she finished my toes, she moved to my fingers. Then, I did scream with each one she broke, and the darkness threatened to overcome me. The fourth vampire was working around my head. I couldn’t see him, but I caught a glimpse of fire light in my peripheral vision. I smelled smoke and burning hair. The bloody ponce set my hair on fire!

At first, I struggled but found myself utterly immobilized. Through the ocean of agony, I finally squeezed my eyes closed and forced my thoughts elsewhere. I thought of Buffy and Dawn, my angels, reminding myself of all I had to live for and that Buffy was walking into a trap. Loving them was a big part of what made me who I was. I had to make myself get through this in order to warn them...to keep them safe. Under no circumstances could I afford to lose consciousness.

Abruptly, three of the vampire presences around me dissipated. I opened my eyes and recognized the hazel eyes hovering above my blue ones. The female vampire who had broken my bones transformed into the lithe form of Sayre.

My voice was soft but clear as I spat through the throbbing ache that pulsed through my every fiber, “So, witch, that didn’t work either. Give up, yet?”

She smiled down at me. Although her lips didn’t move, her voice echoed in my mind, “You’re strong....that makes it fun.”

“Not convincing enough. That last little scenario worked less than the worms....” My voice dwindled, and I paused to cough harshly. “Gotta remember, I know how this mojo stuff works. Dru used it for over a century when I was with her. Learned a few things.”

“We’ll see.” Her fingers flickered over my face, and tiny sparks drifted into my eyes....

* * *

Feeling something warm pressed up against me, I opened my eyes slowly, realizing that nothing in my body hurt. I wiggled my toes and fingers. Nope, not broken. My fingertips swept over the skin on my arms and bare chest. No burns or scrapes.

A quiet moan met my ears. I smiled.

I dreamed the entire thing...all the nightmare of Oklahoma, Callie, the demons, Dawn. Buffy was fast asleep beside me in our bed. Pulling her close to spoon her next to me, I nuzzled her silky hair and searched for her hand to hold. Even in her sleep, she sighed happily and clasped my hand in hers. Wanting another dream to replace the horrible one I just had, I let my thoughts drift into the darkness.

On the edge of dreams, I was startled by the telephone ringing. Buffy jerked in my embrace and frantically searched for the cordless phone she kept on the night stand.

“H-hello?” Buffy spoke hoarsely.

I heard a distinct male voice on the line but couldn’t quite make out what he was saying.

“Yea, okay. I’ll be there. Bye.” She hung up the phone with a click and untangled herself from my arms as she stood. The spot where she had been radiated her forsaken body heat.

“Love, what are you doing?” I watched as she dressed in black leather pants and a light-colored blouse. She twirled her long hair into a ponytail that swung lightly when she released the hair band.

“To the dance studio. Carver is fixing the hardwood floor boards in the corner of the room, and he misplaced his key. He didn’t want to bother the boss, so he called me.” I noticed she didn’t look me in the eye.

“Why now? It’s...” I rose up to balance on my elbow and glanced at the alarm clock, “five-thirty in the bloody morning. Aren’t most humans asleep about now?”

She bent to kiss my forehead gently. “Yeah, well, he was supposed to have this done yesterday. I’m just helping him stay out of trouble. I might or might not be back later.”

“Okay,” I muttered in disappointment as she hurried out of the room.

Falling back against the pillows after the door shut downstairs, a sudden thought struck me. Completely shifting directions, I leapt out from under the blankets, mimicking Buffy’s earlier harried movements to dress. Fairly flying down the stairs, I grabbed my duster and the keys to my DeSota. I noted that I couldn’t hear Dawn’s even breathing, so I assumed she was at a friend’s house. Even before the garage door was completely open, I was backing onto the driveway. Not paying attention, I shattered the side mirror of my car on the edge of the garage. I ignored the mess and drove into the street and toward the dance studio a few blocks over.

Quivering in anticipation and fear, I parked my vehicle next to Carver’s truck and Buffy’s car. Rushing through the front office of the tiny dance studio, I found myself staring at a scene I wished had never seen. My dear Buffy was in the arms of the stupid, bloody carpenter, kissing him passionately. Willing myself not to sink to the ground in grief, I turned away with my back rigid and cleared my throat.

Her tone was hard, “Spike.”

I didn’t say anything back because I was afraid of what would come out of my mouth. Listening to her footsteps approaching me, I bowed my head. Thankfully, she couldn’t see the tears rolling down my face.

“Do you want to know why I did this?” She was near me now.

“No.” My voice cracked, betraying my sorrow.

“Because, how could I possibly be with the man...vampire...creature who couldn’t even protect my sister?”

“W-what? What happened to Dawn?”

Her emerald eyes were full of a hate that she had not borne for me in three years. “You damned well know that she’s dead. And it’s all your fault. You didn’t protect her when I asked you to. My god, Spike, where is your brain? How could you forget that the vampires got Dawn and that you let them?”

“B-but, I don’t remember.” I was desperate to understand. Dawn was dead? I couldn’t even begin to fathom her death.

“How convenient....you lost your memory. Well, I don’t buy it. I haven’t trusted you since Dawn died, and I’m kind of glad you found Carver and I together. Maybe now you’ll finally understand that we’re really through this time.”

Then, I melted to the floor with the certain feeling that this wasn’t real. Burying my head in my hands and pretending to sob, I hardly heard Buffy and Carver leave the dance studio.

When I was certain they were gone several minutes later, I was on my feet. “Okay, Sayre, I got the drill down now. That one almost got to me. You’re getting a little better at this. So, come on out and bring me the next wave of mind games.”

Sayre’s words sang only in my head. “Oh, no, we’re done with these games. I didn’t expect or want you to believe that this was real. It still affected you and that’s what counts. Now, we await round two.”

Round two? That sounded depressingly familiar.

the end of chapter 8

**Note: Sayre means “princess.” Carver means “woodcarver.”**

Title: Hurricane, Chapter 9: Blizzard Author: Sandy S. E-mail: ssoennin@juno.com Rating: R Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN. Spoilers: Set a few years after season 6 Dedication: For Thia...who is a new and dear friend and whose creativity inspires me! :o) Summary: Dawn, a lot of blood, a disappearance, a search. Buffy's worst nightmare comes true. Dawn's POV. The gang finally reaches Walter's lair in the caves of Alaska!



Blizzard

"Faithful friends! It lies I know/Pale and white and cold as snow;/And ye say, 'Abdallah's dead!'/Weeping at the feet and head./I can see your falling tears,/I can hear your sighs and prayers;/Yet I smile and whisper this:/I am not the thing you kiss./Cease your tears and let it lie;/It was mine-it is not I." -Sir Edwin Arnold

"Hey, could somebody help me with this pack?" I called out to the others in front of me, shifting the heavy hiking bag awkwardly on my shoulders with my thickly gloved hands. My legs ached from climbing and were numb from the cold that infiltrated the layers I was wearing. My voice was muffled by the stupid scarf that was wrapped like a blanket around the lower half of my face. No one heard me as a result.

Luckily, the evening was clear; no harsh winds or snow swept through the chilly air that stung my bare cheeks as we hiked toward the mountains. Buffy, Angel, and Willow were trudged ahead of me, three heavily bundled forms, and Xander and Anya brought up the rear.

Our little group had landed in Anchorage in the afternoon. We had hung around the city's international airport until dusk, making preparations. Buffy was right about the pilot being in charge of leading us to Spike's captors. After we landed, he had silently handed Buffy a map to the correct location. Another anonymous human driver had awaited us outside the airport, driving us in a large sports utility vehicle towards an area of the nearby mountains that was well-hidden from the small bustling city. We were now on a narrow, steep path that led to our destination and that had been cleared of snow.

My still slightly tender foot suddenly slipped on a patch of ice that had formed on the ground, and I stumbled back, my eyes widening and my body tensing in preparation for the shock of hitting the hard earth. I forgot to shriek; I guess I realized that my voice wouldn't be heard.

Arms made strong through construction work caught me before I hit the dirt, and I heard Xander's dampened voice in my ear, "It's okay, Dawnster; I got you."

Relief washed over me. I thought Xander and Anya had been further behind me. "Thanks."

"Any time."

I heard Anya singing behind Xander, her voice rising thinly over the still night atmosphere, "It's a trap; we're walking into a trap; it's a trap; we're walking into a trap." She almost sounded as panicked as the time the entire gang had gotten trapped in the house on Buffy's birthday a little over three years ago.

With his arm still around my waist, holding me as I regained my footing, Xander pulled Anya close, whispering that everything would be okay. I really wanted to believe him, but my thoughts were preoccupied with concern for Spike.

As if reading my mind, Buffy appeared before me, her small frame engulfed by her thick clothing and her form swathed in the glow of the flashlight she carried. "Guys, we're almost there. Is everyone okay?" She bent over, scooping up my flashlight from where it had fallen when I dropped it. "Dawn...are you okay?"

"Yeah...just almost fell." My gloved fingers fumbled clumsily to grasp the flashlight that she handed me. "I'm okay."

Buffy nodded tersely at me, her tension evident even through the darkness. "Angel's found the entrance to the cave where we think Spike is. Willow's up there with him now, checking it out."

Anya clutched Xander's arm. "A trap."

"Yeah, I know," Buffy sighed. "And I truly appreciate that you would help me, knowing that. I know your history with Spike probably doesn't make it easy."

Xander sounded sincere, "You would do the same for us, Buff...you *have* done the same for us."

"Yeah," I agreed. My sister was one of the only ever-present people in my life, and I was pleased that she was including me in the mission to save Spike. Maybe she just didn't want to let me out of her sight after what happened only a few days ago.

"Do we have a plan?" Anya questioned, her voice shaking as she shivered in the cold temperature.

"Do we ever have a plan?" Xander joked, trying to encourage Anya.

"Get in, get Spike out," Buffy stated. "Don't get killed in the process."

"Good plan."

Willow appeared behind Buffy. "Angel found a 'quiet' way in. Are you ready?"

Before Buffy could speak, I tried to show confidence in our group. "We're ready."

* * *

After a few minutes of hesitatingly entering the caves, I noted that they were completely remodeled and didn't even look like what I expected. The walls were covered in plaster and stark white, the floor was tiled, and the lights were fluorescent. No creatures or objects of any kind lined the halls. The facility reminded me a little of how Buffy had described the Initiative. The distinct smell of cleaning fluid permeated the air.

"Guess the neatness factor kinda goes with this group," Xander observed to Anya.

Everyone but Buffy stared at him in confusion.

"Huh?" I was genuinely curious.

Xander caught Buffy's glare of annoyance.

"Nothing," he replied to me.

Descending through the underground caves was like walking through a sauna wearing our heavy coats and flannel underwear. After what seemed like hours had passed with no action and a steadily increasing temperature, Buffy decided that we could shed our outerwear. Everyone but Anya, who had gotten rid of her coat much earlier, shed his or her excess clothing and piled it neatly next to one of the walls.

I sighed. My feet were starting to hurt and my body ached from walking so much. When we finally reached a fork in the road, I inwardly groaned. My brain was too fried to think enough to choose a route.

As if she read my mind, Anya intoned beside me, "So, does anyone else feel like we're not getting anywhere? And that we're being watched?"

Xander and I half-raised our hands at the same time. "Me," I agreed, thinking that Anya had hit the nail on the head by defining the strange sensation I had been feeling since we'd entered the facility.

"And me," Xander added.

"We *are* being watched," Buffy confirmed. "Angel can hear the cameras."

"Well, I'm fine," Willow said, wrinkling her brow and quietly trying to support Buffy. She earned a strange look from everyone but Buffy. "I mean, about being here and walking. . . not about being watched."

Buffy appeared exhausted as she placed her hands on her hips. "So, do we go left or right?"

Angel, who had been quiet for most of the journey since telling his story on the plane, calmly suggested, "Let's split up."

Relief washing over her face, Buffy became firm, "Right. Xander, Anya, Willow, you guys go right. Angel, Dawn, and I will take the left. Meet back here in an hour if you don't find anything?"

Xander nodded and headed right with Anya and Willow in tow. Buffy led Angel and I down the empty left hall.

* * *

Angel and Buffy were silent as we traveled down the never-ending corridor. Observing them together slightly ahead of me, I recognized the discomfort that now existed between them. They hadn't spent this much time together for over three years since Spike returned from Africa with a soul. I wondered vaguely if Spike would be jealous that Buffy and Angel were rescuing him together.

I gripped the stake that Buffy had given me earlier today and tried to concentrate on the present situation. Too easily, my mind had fallen to not paying attention to. . .

An icy hand slipped around my mouth, muffling my startled cry. The stake in my hand clattered to the floor.

My eyes wide, I witnessed Angel and Buffy spin around to face my captor. They both dropped into fighting stance. . . the stance of hunters and warriors. Deciding to help them out a little, I bit down hard on the vampire's hand and twisted away at the same moment.

Buffy lunged out in attempt to get me away from the vampire.

However, although he was startled, the vampire clutched at me with his uninjured hand, drawing me instantly close to his musty clothing and making me gag. I guessed not everything was clean in this place.

Something sharp pressed into my neck, and I felt wetness trail down my flesh. Forcing me to move backwards, the vampire jerked me down the hall with Buffy and Angel staying one pace behind. Angel was eyeing the vampire, and Buffy kept her eyes focused on mine, sending me silent reassurances.

We were definitely entering the lion's den.

* * *

The cavern we entered from the hallway was one of the largest I'd ever seen. . . larger than the ones my parents took Buffy and I to see when we were younger. Unlike the rest of the facility, this room was dimly lit, complete with bright circles of light and unexplored shadowy depths. I was afraid here.

I couldn't view much, and I drew no comfort from Buffy's horrified visage. Angel wore his usual unreadable vampire mask.

"So, we're finally all here," an unfamiliar voice echoed in the acoustically unsound cavern.

The vampire holding me captive spun me around to face the source of the speech. My heart dropped to my shoes as I bore witness to what Buffy and Angel saw.

Spike was chained to a concrete slab in the center with spotlights positioned on his unmoving form. Anya, Willow, and Xander were piled in an unceremonious unconscious heap nearby. Fifteen or so vampire minions stood in small clusters in each shadow, wearing black clothing and silver charms that glinted in the minimal light.

The one who had uttered the bold statement appeared to be a middle aged man. However, his true age was not reflected in his looks but in his eyes. . . his were eyes that had seen many decades. Dressed in a dark navy blue, his wardrobe varied slightly from the vampires'. Instantly, I *knew* that he was the man whom Angel was talking about. . . the man with no name but one he created. . . Garrek's son.

"Donald, could you please bring me my specimen?" Garrek's son uttered, motioning at the vampire who had pinned my arm in a painful twist behind my back.

Donald roughly pushed me toward Garrek's son. Resisting as hard as I could, I managed to stall our movement and cause Donald to stumble over my feet, almost falling over in the process.

That was when Spike lifted his head slightly. Through half-slit eyes, he sent me the message to not resist, so I reluctantly relented and allowed myself to practically be shoved into Garrek's son's face. He ran a thick finger over my cheek, and I found myself being grateful that he didn't use his tongue the way his father had.

"So, you do have power within you. I can feel it. Child, why do you not use this power of yours?" His breath is surprisingly sweet. . . like an odd mixture of flowers and cinnamon, and I felt slightly dizzy as a result.

I said nothing but continued to stare defiantly into his eyes the way Buffy and Spike would have.

In an unexpected motion, he covered my face with one hand and slung his arm around my waist with his opposite arm. Again, I changed directions to view Buffy and Angel peering out of the shadows at the others and me. I tried my best to appear calm.

Garrek's son's voice is loud in my left ear, and he sounds like he's accepting an academy award or something, "So, you're probably wondering why you're here. I have to first of all, thank you. If it wasn't for you, Buffy Summers, and you, Angelus, none of this would have been possible."

"What do you want, Jonah?" Angel interrupted with irritation in his tone.

I could almost feel Garrek's son frown. "My name is no longer 'Jonah' but is now Walter. . . , meaning 'powerful warrior.' Appropriate, don't you think, for this time period in our relationship?"

"Answer his question," Buffy commanded, glaring angrily.

"I don't believe you're in any position to be handing out orders, missy." His arm tightened around my hips, and I had to suck in my stomach to breathe.

"What do you mean by 'none of this would have been possible'?" Angel questioned firmly.

"I set you up to fail. Don't you know that about me by now, Angelus?" When he caught Angel's fearful expression, Walter bragged, "I set you up. . . both of you! I had Garrek plant Dawn's blood, Miss Summers, and I laid the trail for those murders you were investigating, Angelus. You merely followed through with my plan."

"And now your plan is to what? Hold us here in this cavern talking to us until you're blue in the face?" Buffy was at her most sarcastic, which was occasionally beneficial in intimidating the usual vampires and minions.

Walter's laugh was loud, bright, and eerily cheerful before he found his vocal cords again, "Oh, that is good. No, I'm not here to talk with you, Miss Summers. You're here to put on a show for me." He gestured widely, pointing at me. "You see, you have a choice in the matter. You can either kill your sister, whom I believe isn't really your sister. She's what? A mystical cluster of energy. . . so powerful that she could keep me alive for one hundred centuries." He nuzzled my neck with his nose, and I shivered at the smell of decay rolling off his flesh; he was definitely vulnerable since Garrek's death.

Buffy took a few threatening steps toward him, and the minions in the shadows seemed to take offense to her actions, so they clustered around her, preventing her from nearing Walter.

Walter rested his head on my shoulder and smiled; I felt his cheeks lift with the corners of his mouth. "Or, you can kill your lover. . . a member of the species you're supposed to kill anyway." He nodded at Spike's prone body.

Buffy's expression flashed back and forth from vulnerability to fear to rage as if she was trying to decide which to feel in the current situation.

She picked rage.

Hurling herself at the closest minion, she dusted him before he knew what hit him. Angel followed Buffy's lead and quickly began fighting the vampires most adjacent to him. Grunts and the sound of flesh meeting flesh bounced through the air of the underground chamber.

I turned my head to glance at Walter, not certain what he would do in response. He was grinning broadly, and his eyes were filled with a hunger that I had never previously seen even in a vampire's eyes. Like a child who cut the tails off cats, he was enjoying viewing his own servants being killed!

When Buffy and Angel were wrestling with and overcoming the last two minions, Walter snapped his fingers sharply. From an unseen entrance behind us, fresh vampires filtered into the room.

As the new minions surrounded Angel and Buffy, Walter boomed, "Now that you're tired, perhaps you'll heed the demands of the task I've laid before you, Miss Summers."

Buffy winced as one of the minions pushed in front of Walter. At Walter's signal, another vampire pressed a sword into Buffy's hand.

Buffy stared in defiance at the manipulator before her. "So, what? Do you honestly believe your plan is going to work, Wally or Wilson or whatever your name is?"

Walter laughed. "Oh, yes! Of course, I do."

"Well, you'd be wrong. You'll be dead before you ever think about leaving this place."

Walter winked at Buffy. "I don't intend to leave my home, so you're right on one count there. So. . . choose, or they both die."

Spike's voice resonated weakly as he spoke for the first time, "Do what he says, love."

Like a little boy who had to use the restroom but refused to tell his mother, Walter was practically dancing in place as he waited for Buffy to respond. "Go on," he urged, "Talk to Spike. Tell him how you feel."

The vampire holding Buffy's arm dragged her up to Spike's side. She placed a bare hand on his chest, and I swore I felt the electricity that danced between them. As she gazed at him and read the message in his eyes, I saw large tears spill over her lids and wash over her cheeks. I realized that she and Spike had made the decision about her next course of action with no words. . . only their shared love.

Then, she spoke the words that she'd so often left unsaid, "I love you, William, with all my heart and soul. You are truly beautiful. . . inside and out. I've never met someone I've felt such deep love for but also such deep anger." She laughed hesitatingly. "I suppose now I look back and can say I've loved you since you came into my life years ago. I would have never thought so then."

Buffy reverently brought the sword up to Spike's neck.

Then, she faltered, leaning against Spike's chest and pressing her face into his throat, "I-I can't."

I barely heard Spike's next words because he murmured them against her hair, "You have to, love. I won't allow Dawn to be harmed again. You both have a shot at surviving if you choose me. Come now, where's my slayer?"

Sounding like a spoiled child, Walter chose that moment to interrupt impatiently, "Okay, okay, him or Dawn. . . do something or they both die."

I closed my eyes.

All I heard was the sound of Buffy's sobs as Spike's form burst into dust.

The end of chapter 9