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DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters, but Joss does. Please don't sue me! |
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The Price
by
Katharina
Prologue
It's kind of weird. In the end, I suppose that it was inevitable. One girl against the forces of darkness, not the greatest of odds. She had to keep beating them thousands of times; they only had to take her down once. Buffy lost just one battle and it was all over. For all of us.
It's strange, the fragmented things that your memory fixates on: the last few drops of blood dribbling down her neck and soaking into her blonde hair, the sound of Dawnie calling out her sister's name over and over.
I just remember feeling numb. Oddly though, the time between the bastard killing Buff and the ritual, I really don't remember very well. It's all kind of fuzzy. Bits and pieces come back to me, here and there, but there are major things that I just don't recall. I don't even remember where they had us locked up like animals. I have vague memories, flashes really, of what it was like but nothing concrete. I can remember the floor being cold. I remember that it was dark and that there was a bare light bulb hanging on the wall across from the only door to the room. It would blind me every time one of the blood suckers would come for one of us.
I also remember wondering how much force it would take to smash my skull in against the stone wall. It seemed like a better way to go at the time. I don't remember how many days went by, or even the names and faces of those that were locked up with me.
Some things are achingly clear though. I remember being dragged before that blood sucking, murderous, back stabbing… backstabber. He was sitting there, holding court. It was a good thing a couple of minions had a hold of me or I would have done something really stupid.
I know, not a shocker. It's not like even then I didn't know I couldn't possibly take him. But hey, blind rage does funny things to people. He had this smirk on his face, he was just so damned pleased with himself. I think he kept me alive that long just so he'd have someone to gloat to.
There were vamps everywhere. I don't know how he managed to get so many minions in such a short time. Of course I suppose lots of lower level demons flocked to him after he killed Buffy Summers. And it's not like Angelus didn't have his own rep. Now that he'd gotten rid of that pesky soul of his, lots of evil flunkies were lining up to ride on his coattails.
The evil undead looked me up and down really slowly. It made me uncomfortable in a kind of scared to death, "come sit on Santa's lap, Jimmy" kind a way. He chuckled and shook his head at me, before turning to his left to a crowd of his lackeys.
"Doesn't really seem worth it. Are you sure you want to do this? There's still time to change your mind, my boy," Angelus chuckled.
The next voice I heard turned my blood to ice water. "Let's bloody well get on with this."
The sad thing is that a tiny part of me was comforted by the bleached one's presence, even though it was obvious he was with them. They parted the way for him like he was some sort of chosen one.
His face was totally blank as he came for me. His left hand wrapped around the back of my neck. It was like being held in a vice. I'd let myself forget just how strong he really is. The two flunkies that had been holding me let go and stepped back, merging into the crowd. Not that it made any difference. I was on the ground before I even knew what was happening.
"I knew we couldn't trust you. I knew you'd turn on us," I spat, fully expecting those to be my last words. I wasn't really surprised when he ripped off what was left of my shirt, but I froze when his free hand went after the buttons of my jeans. The shock only lasted a second, and then I started to struggle. I tried to fight him as hard as I could, but it was like trying to loosen a statues' grip.
Just like that I was naked in front of tall dark and evil's fan club. I could hear them cheering in the background clapping and urging Spike on. I just started shaking my head from side to side and whispering no over and over again, as if somehow that would stop him. I think I started adding please when I heard the zipper from his jeans being pulled down. Or maybe I imagined it; with all the noise the crowd was making I don't see how I could have picked up that sound. It doesn't really matter, I guess, whether I heard it or not. It doesn't change what happened next.
It hurt so much, I can't really think of words to describe it. I thought I was going to pass out from the pain. I wished I would have. I can still remember Angelus laughing in the background. I'm not sure exactly, when I started crying, but I know that I did. It seemed to go on forever and ever. After a while I just stopped fighting him. I just sort of laid there, and prayed it would be over soon.
He didn't say a word to me the entire time. He barely even looked at me. I was actually surprised that he didn't smack me when I started fighting him. In a way it was worse that he didn't. It made me feel even more insignificant and weak, like I wasn't the slightest bit of a threat to him. He just kept me pinned down without any effort at all.
When he switched to his real face I wasn't scared, I was grateful. He spoke to me for the first time then. He looked me right in the eyes.
I couldn't understand what was being said. I'm not an expert, but it sounded like something out of one of Giles' dusty old books. I did pick up my name somewhere in the middle of Blondies' speech. He switched his grip on me and all of a sudden my upper body was being lifted towards him. He was still inside me, mercilessly pumping in and out, ripping me up inside. I could feel something warm and wet running down my backside and between my thighs. I knew it was my own blood.
I didn't resist when he brought my neck the rest of the way up to his lips. I shuddered when I felt his tongue lapping at my throat, but I barely felt his fangs pierce my skin. I wish I could say that it was rapture, and that I suddenly understood why Riley Finn had done what he did. I think I was in too much pain at the time though. Not so much though, that I didn't feel the warm wave of magic washing over us, binding me to William the bloody for the rest of my life.
Part One
He looked unnaturally small and fragile laying beneath me. The smell of his blood and my semen mixing together just flooded my senses, which was probably a good thing since the boy hadn’t bathed in days. Not that the whelp had been given the option mind you.
I hadn’t quite expected him to bleed as much as he did though. Putting us both through this wouldn’t have done much good if he died right after the bloody claiming. The boy was sobbing. He’d completely given up on trying to push me away. I shook my head, I could sit and brood like some great magnificent tosser later or better yet I could just act like a bloke and deal with it. Point being I had other priorities.
I scented the boy, trying to concentrate despite the racket the Poof’s followers were making. Good, he was bleeding, but it didn’t smell like he was in serious danger. He wasn’t resisting me at all though which was unlike him enough to worry me. Well there was nothing I could do about it in the middle of Angelus’ Great Hall. And he wonders why I call him a ponce.
I straightened myself up, and then picked the boy up leaving his clothing behind. They were rags at this point anyway. Harris weighed surprisingly little. Don’t suppose the wanker had been feeding the captives all that much. I turned to look at Angelus; if the bastard wasn’t satisfied I didn’t know what I was going to do. I wanted so badly to wipe the damn smirk off his bloody face, but there was no way I could fight my way out of here with all these minions. Well maybe if I had been alone… At any rate for the moment I… we were at his mercy. After what seemed like an eternity he nodded, giving me leave.
If I hadn’t been carrying the whelp, I probably would have gone after the king of hair gel, when I heard the wanker start to applaud. In a way it’s a good thing the boy started trembling, it forced me to focus on the problem at hand.
I shoved my way out of the hall snarling at anyone who came near us. How my grandsire managed to find another of these mausoleums in Sunnyhell I’ll never know. The great psychotic one’s a bloodhound for the sodding things.
I made my way up a couple of floors and down the corridor towards the west wing to the quarters I’d been assigned. There were a couple of minions standing guard outside the door of course. For my protection Angelus had insisted. After all there were still plenty of demons out there angry that I’d been the Slayer’s lapdog. I didn’t bother mentioning that the same could be said of him. As long as they stayed the Hell away from me and the boy, I’d live with it.
I was a little surprised when one of the minions opened the door for us. I could have managed, but it would have been awkward with the boy cradled in my arms. I walked in and kicked the door shut behind us. I made my way to the bathroom and found that my instructions had actually been followed, there was a hot bath waiting for the boy. I hadn’t been all that sure the minions would honor my request or even listen in the first place.
I set the boy down next to the old claw foot tub and dipped my hand in to make sure the water wasn’t scalding. It was a little on the warm side, but still nothing unbearable. At least I wasn’t going to be bathing the boy in a tub full of acid, which frankly I wouldn’t put past that arse Angelus.
I picked the boy back up and lowered him carefully into the steaming water. He still hadn’t said a word this entire time, which would have worried me with any of the Scoobies, but with this one it was particularly out of character. I took one of the washcloths off the ridiculously ornate towel rack and soaked it, before gently trying to scrub away some of the week’s grime covering the slayerette.
He’d been silent for so long, that when he spoke, I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Don’t touch me.”
“I’m just trying to clean you up a bit.” I told him. I wasn’t sure what to say to him. Hallmark doesn’t exactly make greetings for this sort of occasion.
“Washing away the evidence you mean,” the youth sneered. I was actually relieved. His voice had a hysterical edge to it, but at least he was talking. At any rate he seemed to be a lot closer to his usual belligerent self.
“You watch too much CSI, pet,” I replied trying to keep my voice light. I was all too aware I’d what I’d just done. I also knew that things were going to get worse before they got better.
“I’m not your fucking pet.” There, right on schedule, the words that could get us all killed.
In retrospect there must have been a better way to handle the next few moments, but damned if I’ve come up with it. The soul for all its supposed glory hasn’t added mush to my existence, but a big heaping pile of guilt.
He shrieked as I reached over and grabbed his throat by one hand. My other arm shot under water and caressed the one place I knew he never wanted me to touch him again. His breath was coming in panicked gasps.
“Actually, Alexander that’s precisely what you now are. Marked by me in every way. You’re mine now.” How I kept by voice from cracking during that little speech I still don’t know. The boy’s heart was beating furiously. I could literally smell his fear. He’d unconsciously started shaking again.
I had his undivided attention now. I just hoped he would listen to me. I loosened my grip on his neck and started lightly caressing the flesh there, careful not to upset the fresh bite mark. I quickly removed my other hand from between his legs. My shirt sleeve was sopping, but I ignored it, I just started cleaning him again.
“I claimed you as mine. You’re marked now. Every Vampire or demon that you come across now will know that you are mine. You’re marked as my property,” I explained in what I hoped was a shooting tone of voice.
“Why?” he whispered. I wasn’t even sure what he was asking. Why I was saying this? Why would I want to make him mine? Why had I raped him?
“It wasn’t my idea, pet. I’m sorry,” It wasn’t adequate and it never would be. The only thing I could do now was look after him the best I could.
“Sorry? You’re fucking sorry?” He spat. He had every right to be angry and I knew it. That however didn’t make his resentful gaze any easier to bare.
“I had to Xander. Certain concessions had to be made to keep you and the Bit alive. You, what just happened to you, was the price we had to pay for your lives,” I told him shedding my wet shirt. I think I pulled it off just so I could avoid looking at him for a moment.
“What the hell are you talking about?” He demanded, grabbing my wrist and stopping the compulsive washing I’d resumed.
“Angelus,” I answered uneasily.
“You’re saying that Angelus made you…” the boy faltered turning his gaze away.
“Rape you. Yes in a way,” there I’d managed to say it. I’d raped the boy, violated him in the worst way possible.
“What the Hell does that mean? In a way?” He demanded angrily.
“Angelus agreed to allow Dawn and you to live, if and only if, I claimed you as a pet. Taking you sexually, as well as biting you was part of the claiming ritual.” I explained.
“Why didn’t you just tell me? I would have let you if… if it meant he would let Dawnie go,” He whispered in an unsteady voice. At least he seemed to listening to me. He was still afraid, but was at least cautiously considering that what I was telling him was the truth.
“Tilt your head back,” I ordered, pushing him back so I could wash some of the grime out of his hair. “You couldn’t know beforehand. It was part of the agreement that I made with my Grandsire. I asked to be allowed to speak to you, but he refused, said if I warned you ahead of time the deal was off.” I explained. The next part of the explanation I wasn’t looking forward to. The boy was going to explode. “Xander, I said he’d agreed to let her live. I never said anything about letting her go,” I told him as I rinsed the shampoo out of his hair.
“What, where is she?” He demanded, trying to bat me away as I attempted to towel his hair dry.
I hesitated a moment before answering. “In his bed,” I replied, letting the water out of the tub without meeting his eyes.
“What? You left Dawnie with that maniac!” He shouted, as I did my best to dry him off with a fluffy white towel. The boy so exhausted that he was barely able to stand, let alone fight me off.
“She’s alive. He needed some practical reason to keep her alive. Something that wouldn’t make him lose face in the demon community. Besides he’s always liked them young and innocent. What do you think Darla’s little school girl routine was all about,” I asked scooping him back into my arms.
“How do you know about that? You weren’t even in Sunnydale back then?” He asked, he seemed more curious then anything else.
“The slayer told me about it once,” I answered, laying him carefully in the center of the large four poster bed that dominated the bedroom. He eyed me warily as I reached into the nightstand for the supplies I’d left there. I took out a bottle of antiseptic and quickly cleaned the bite mark on his neck. It had pretty much already stopped bleeding, but I taped a piece of gauze there just for good measure. The boy thankfully didn’t fight me as I did this.
His other injuries I was afraid he wouldn't be so cooperative about. I pulled out the jar of ointment that I’d sent the minions out to the healer to get and set it down on the bed beside him.
“I’m going to turn you onto your stomach now,” I warned him as I reached to do just that. It was obvious he would have fought me if he’d still had the energy.
“Calm down pet,” I tried to soothe; careful not to touch him more than was necessary. ”This ointment is going to help you heal. It’s a bit of a potion really, got it from a demon healer. I need you to spread your legs for me,” I warned, moving his legs apart.
“S…Spike. Please don’t. I can’t,” he begged me, tears beginning to run down his cheeks.
“Pet this is going to help you. It will make you feel better, I promise. All you need to do is lay still and try to relax. It’ll be over soon.” I tired to reassure, carefully rubbing his back.
“Why did you have to be so rough in the first place,” Xander reproached.
“I’m sorry, but you needed to bleed. Our fluids needed to mix for the chant’s magic to work,” I really wasn’t the demon to explain it to him. I really didn’t know that much about the demon traditions. The watcher probably knows more about it to be honest.
“That’s just… gross.” He replied, scrunching up his face.
“Most demon rituals tend to be, whelp. Look I’d prefer to use this on you, but I won’t force the issue. I was told it would help numb the pain a little. You could try to apply it yourself, but it would be easier if it was done for you,” I offered.
“Okay,” he agreed. I shouldn’t be surprised. This one has never been short on bravery.
I nodded to him picking up the jar off the bed. “It’s going to be a little cool,” I warned. He whimpered as soon as my finger came into contact with his red and torn anus.
“Keep talking to me pet,” I suggested, hoping to distract the boy long enough to finish my ministration.
“Why? Why did Angelus make you do this?”
“It amuses him. He knows bloody well that we’ve never gotten on. The idea of us shackled to each other for the rest of your life, well it’s just the kind a joke he’d love.”
“Yeah, I guess he would get some twisted trill out of this. Oh God, please no. I don’t think I can do this,” my brunet companion moaned as I spread some of the medicinal cream inside of him.
“Shush, you’re doing so well, Pet. I’m almost done. Keep asking me questions. Occupy your mind with other things.” I suggested.
“Angelus is kind of psycho. How do you know he won’t just kill us all? He can’t be fond of you right now.” Xan asked, sounding more than a little concerned at the prospect, which surprised me. I was actually quite touched that the boy was still concerned for me despite what I’d just done to him.
“It’s always a risk, but I think he’s enjoying these head games too much,” I answered, hoping that I was right on this count. “Besides I’ve managed to speak to Dawn. She understands what she has to do. She knows that she has to keep him and his new childer happy. Hopefully he’ll grow attached to her, before he tires of playing with her. The fact that I’ve officially put claim to you actually helps her chances. It would give me too much status in our clan to be the only Master with a blood pet,” I explained, quickly covering the walls of his torn passage with a tick coating of the healing cream.
“Jesus Christ Spike, she’s 17. Your answer is to tell her to whore herself out to that creep,” he shouted at me from over his shoulder. He seemed to at the very least forgotten about what I’d been doing. Didn’t even notice when I finally pulled my fingers out of him.
“All done,” I announced needlessly reaching down and pulling the covers over his nude body.
“Spike, she’s just a kid,” he mumbled sleepily into his pillow. The boy was completely worn out.
“Buffy was even younger than that when she took up with Angel. Bugger, I never thought I’d miss the great big poofter. Try and sleep for a bit, I’ll see about getting you something to eat when you wake up,” I suggested, running a hand through his still damp hair. Xander just nodded sleepily. Curling up into an almost fetal position he drifted into a troubled sleep.
Part Two
It was almost sunset by the time I woke up the next night. I had slept almost 18 hours. I was still a little sore, but Spike had been right. I felt a lot better. I didn’t hurt nearly as much has I had the night before, at least not physically. I rolled onto my back and nearly jumped out of my skin, when I noticed him casually standing against the wall watching me.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about the souled vampire. A part of me burned in rage at the way Spike had violated me and I wanted to hit Blondie over and over again. Yet another part of me was terrified of him. He’d held me down and taken something that no one had the right to touch without permission. I felt like he’d stolen some deep part of me that I’d never get back. Unfortunately there was also a part of me that understood what he’d done, the terrible choice that Angelus had left Spike with. If I’d been put in a room with one of the girls and been given that choice, if he’d made me choose between having to hurt them or watching him kill them… I’m not honestly sure what I would have done. I’m not sure what he could have made me do in order to protect one of them.
“Afternoon, how do you feel?” he asked me, taking a seat next to me on the bed. I was not going to scream like a girl. No matter how much I wanted to.
“Better I guess,” I answered in what I hoped was a non-committal tone. I’d pretty much decided I believed Spike, but that didn't mean I was ready to be all buddy buddy.
“Good. I sent one of the minions off for some breakfast. They should be back soon.”
“Kay,” I answered.
“We have some things to go over. You want to talk or eat first?” he asked me.
“What kind of things?” I asked. I wished I didn’t sound so nervous.
“The way things are now, the way they’re going to be,” he answered. What the hell did that mean?
“I…” I started to say just as an unfamiliar vampire stumbled into the room holding a tray full of food. It was just oatmeal, with raisins, but it smelled like heaven to me. My stomach took the opportunity to make itself known.
“Breakfast first then, I guess,” Spike laughed.
The minion left dumping the tray unceremoniously on my lap, all the while under watchful Spike’s scowl. We just sat in silence while I ate my porridge and orange juice. I wasn’t even able to eat all of it.
“All done? Don’t worry, your stomachs' shrunk. You’ll get your appetite back,” Spike assured me, before removing the tray and sitting back down even more uncomfortably close to me. I just nodded.
I jumped when Spike ran his knuckles softly against the week’s worth of stubble on my cheek. “What are you doing?”
“Touching you,” he answered simply.
“Stop it,” I demanded trying to brush his hand away.
“No,” he said simply shaking his head. Why was he playing with me like this?
“Why are you doing this,” I whispered trying to blink back tears. I felt betrayed.
“Because you’re my pet and I can touch you if I like.”
“I get it. Angelus said you had to claim me or he’d kill Dawn, but what’s with the head games now Spike?”
“It wasn’t a one time thing Xander. Angelus has made it clear that not only was I to claim you as a pet. I am to use you as such. If I don’t the deal to protect Dawn is forfeit. He also promised to turn you over to the minions. Their playthings don’t have a very long lifespan, pet,” Spike told me.
“Can’t you just tell him that you’re using me?” I asked hopefully. Already knowing that would never work.
“He’d be able to smell the truth. You already know that. I’m sorry Xander, but you need to get you used to the idea of being buggered.”
“Can’t we just take Dawn and leave?”
“If we could, I would have already Pet. He’s just too strong right now. With his new childer there are just too many of them.”
“I don’t know if I can go through that again Spike,” I admitted, refusing to meet the vampires gaze.
I heard Spike sigh before he took my chin and gently forced me to meet his eyes. “It won’t be like last time. He’s agreed, provided I make use of you, that I can treat you however I like. I promise you Xander, it will never be like the last time again. I’ll always try to make it as painless and enjoyable for you as I can.”
Spike just smiled at me when I snorted. “Ten percent of the world is bent, there must be something there. All I want you to do is try to relax and not fight it. All right? That’s all you have to worry about. Let me take care of the rest. I promise I’ll do my best to take care of you for the rest of our time together.” I suppose that I should have been grateful he didn't say “for the rest of your life.”
“As your slave,” I replied bitterly.
“We can only play the cards we’ve been dealt Pet. Speaking of the more unpleasant aspects of our new relationship, I have something for you.”
“What’s that?” I asked skeptically.
“Your collar,” He answered evenly, standing up and moving away from the bed.
“My what?” I demanded angrily. If the bleached out freak thought…
“Sorry Pet. It was non-negotiable. He insisted,” the souled vampire sighed walking over to the large dresser on the other side of the room and collecting a beautifully polished Cherry wood box with Mahogany inlays. Holding it front of himself Spike crossed the room and came to sit next to me again. “There you are,” he said simply handing me the box. Spike quirked an eyebrow at me as I began to snicker, it was such a familiar look that it was actually comforting.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that the box and the way you gave it to me, it’s almost like you’re proposing.”
“In a way pet, that collar is as important as a wedding band. It symbolizes my commitment to you and of course your submission to me. Open it, Xander,” he requested. He almost looked nervous.
I felt clumsy as I worked open the case’s latch. “Wow,” I gasped fingering the finely worked leather collar inside. “It’s actually really nice, I guess.”
“Glad you like it. Do you need help putting it on?”
“Yeah probably,” I answered. My hands were shaking and I don’t think I actually could have managed.
He smiled at me, taking the rich leather from my hands and stretching it against my throat. “There my lovely,” Spike chuckled, as he buckled up the collar. I looked down, certain that my cheeks were burning. “It actually looks good on you, Pet”
“So now what?” I asked him uncertainly.
“Now we survive, Pet. At least until I can figure out how to get us and the bit the hell out of here.”
“Any idea how we’re going to do that?” I asked. I really would have liked to hear a brilliant master plan right then. Although Spike, he was never really great at the master planning.
“None whatsoever. There’s one more thing Xander,” he told me uneasily.
“What’s that?” I asked. Spike’s whole demeanor was making me nervous. It was plain he didn’t think I was going to react well to what he was about to say. He was right.
“According to vampiric law Angelus is the leader of my clan, as such he is afforded certain privileges. For one thing myself and his other childer belong to him. He can do practically anything he wants to us. As a result anything that we posses in turn also belongs to him. Do you understand what I’m saying, Pet?” Spike asked evenly.
It took a second for what he’d just said to register. It took a second to remember that according to demonic law I was his property. I just started shaking my head in denial. “No please, please don’t make me, Spike,” shit, I was crying again.
Spike didn’t even hesitate. He just pulled me into his arms and I let him. He should have been the last person I’d want touching me, but he was also unfortunately the only source of comfort I had at the time.
“If it ever does happen it won’t be my choice. Just remember no matter what he does, I will always take care of you. Besides he’s never shown that kind of interest in you. If that’s what he wanted he could have kept you for himself. You’re not really his type, Pet. There’s no need to worry about that today. I just wanted you to be aware and prepared for the possibility.”
“Jesus, any other nasty surprises?”
“Not that I can think of, no. But this is the Hellmouth after all.”
Part Three
For someone who had once been the most feared vampire in all of Europe Angelus showed a distinct lack of common sense, in my opinion. It was probably his artistic personality; everything had to be a drama for the new Master of the Hellmouth. He was far too obsessed with tormenting Spike, not that watching the souled vampire try to protect his little concubine didn't have its own intrinsic entertainment value. By all accounts the irksome faux blond and the irritating former construction worker had been like oil and water before Angelus killed the Slayer, though I never had the opportunity to witness it myself. I left Sunnydale behind long before Spike became a permanent member of the Slayer's inner circle.
Ordering his grandchilde to violently claim one of the Slayer's oldest comrade's in arms was amusing, watching the actual event in a room full of bloodthirsty demons, even more so. The scent of the Scooby's fear was intoxicating. Lord knows, even when I was human there were days I wanted the little pillock put in his place. It was also plain that it was devastating to Soulboy, which was something I was certainly always willing to endorse. Their suffering was as delicious as any blood I've tasted. Leaving them alive after the fact however, just wasn't a sound strategic decision.
Though I must admit I did enjoy watching Spike carry out Harris like some swooning maiden. It still was not worth the risk, which I made clear to my Sire, despite the thrashing I knew it would earn me. It seems that, even then, I wasn't so different from my human self after all.
While keeping the girl did provide some extra measure of control over Drusilla's childe, the fact was that William the Bloody was and always will be unpredictable. It's his nature. It unfortunately made anticipating his next move problematic, if not nearly impossible. For every given situation there are ten different ways in which Spike
might respond and generally at least seven of those make no earthly sense. His newly acquired soul did not appear to have changed that one bit. I must say in his defense though, it's no so much that Spike's actions didn't make any sense it's, that frankly, they most often only made sense to him.
There are of course some hard and fast rules when dealing with Spike. The first of which being that he would do anything for his loved ones. You only have to look at his century long relationship with Drusilla to corroborate that statement. In the case of Buffy Summers it meant protecting her younger sister with a single minded devotion rarely
seen in any creature, let alone a vampire. This dedication apparently did not end with the Chosen One's death, but became ever more potent. After both of the deaths William the Bloody had borne witness to, actually. This meant of course that Spike would never stop trying to find a way to free himself and the girl, which in my estimation made
him very dangerous.
Spike is above all ruled by his emotions, though the trait does seem to have calmed imperceptibly with the addition of his soul. Sire doesn't see it; the blond vampire is as always belligerent and disrespectful toward him. He still sees him has the wild fledge he tried to shape in his own image. He clearly believes that his grandchilde only obeys out of fear, for the Scoobies sakes. He's of course correct in part, but if one watches Spike unobserved you come
to see that a great deal of his behavior is an act, a persona that William the Bloody has been cloaking himself with for years.
He is for one, far better educated than I had previously expected. He's also a keen observer of human and demonic behavior. He uses those skills to manipulate situations to his advantage and the loud-mouthed undead punk rocker guise to keep others from realizing that he's doing so. He lulls his adversaries into thinking that he's not a threat. He's quite the little manipulator.
It was probably fortunate for all concerned that there is one part of the Spike façade that was not contrived; the vampire has the attention span of a gnat. If he could have held his focus on any given thing for more than five minutes he would have been a much more effective adversary for Angel and Buffy. If not for all of his uncontainable
energy, the irritating demon would probably have taken over the world or at the very least the Hellmouth by now.
As much has Spike's concentration can be described as fleeting, he is also obsessive in his own way. Despite multiple failures he will keep going until his goals are met. His short term plans might often fall through, but the shorter vampire is probably the most tenacious individual that I've ever encountered. This was why I so adamantly advocated dusting him. The last thing anyone needs is an erratic enemy that doesn't know how to give up.
Now The Council's actions I could easily anticipate five moves ahead. Steeped in their centuries of traditions, they where as they always had been highly predictable. It's why they'd never understood Buffy Summers effectiveness as a Slayer. Even though I was once trapped by the same rigid thinking, I could see how useful the Scoobies had been.
After all the proof was in the pudding as it were, Buffy had lived an absurdly long time for a slayer. Of course, in there lies part of the problem, the Watchers' Council has always found 16 year old girls so easy to control. Conveniently after a slayer passes, a brand new super powered little girl pops up to replace her.
That is until my dear Faith showed up. How unfortunate that the slayer line seemed to run through the dark slayer and not Buffy Summers. After Buffy sacrificed herself for her sister, no new chosen one was called. It must have sent the old boys into a right dither. The slayer controlling the line of succession safely locked away in a Californian
maximum security prison for the next 25 years or so, quite stubbornly refusing to bow to any of their pathetic attempts to eliminate her. She never said anything to Angel on his many visits, as far as I know, but as I said they are infinitely predictable.
At any rate, seeing as no new slayer was forthcoming, Travers and his sycophants had been forced to concede that they would have to rely on the Summers girl. How surprised they must have been to realize that the little girl they expected to so easily regain control of was now a head strong woman. I almost wish I had been there to see her demand Giles' back pay.
With no new slayer at their disposal I had no fear of those fools. I knew it would take them the better part of the next decade to argue changing their methods, much less mounting an attack against us. Seeing how effective the Slayer's bunch had been they could have worked on replicating the feat. Trained witches and half demons to form ready made `Scooby' units for future slayers. But this of course will never happen, there are years of tradition to uphold after all. Not an original thinker in the lot, except one. Sadly, he was the one that worried me.
If we'd dusted Spike and killed Xander and Dawn as I suggested, I'm fairly confident that the wretched would have happily stayed in England doing whatever it is he does there. Possibly drinking himself into oblivion, maybe returning to the Council's embrace in an effort to annoy Travers to death, either option would have suited me just fine. Keeping them alive gave him hope, some tiny part of his precious Slayer that he could get back. It would eventually bring his focus unto us.
Rupert Giles is enough of a self involved prick that I was sure we had some time before he removed his head from his own arse and stopped mourning his precious Slayer. Eventually though, he would remember his captured friends and make some sort of ridiculous attempt to rescue them.
What worried me was that Spike knew this as well. Rupert has none of Spike's problems holding his focus and is an excellent strategist. Even though the two of them loathed each other, in this endeavor I knew they would cooperate. They would do whatever needed to be done to save the girl. Giles was eminently suited to doing whatever needed to be done.
Such a fuss being made over one teenage girl, not even a slayer at that. Looking at her just after Angelus had taken her on; I couldn't see anything really spectacular. She was tall and thin, not the petite sort of woman that my Sire normally seems to be drawn to. Her features, in particular her mouth, seemed altogether too large for her face. She wasn't unattractive though. She had really quite lovely big blue eyes. Tall and reed like she reminded me a bit of my darling Fred, though even at that age it was plain to see that Dawn had been blessed with larger tits.
Of course there was also her youth and innocence. Angelus did so enjoy corrupting purity, making a mockery of it in fact. He kept the girl dressed up like an indecent school girl for months. In addition to all of that, of course, was the fact that she was Buffy's sister. Probably would have deflowered the girl on her sister's still cooling corpse if he'd thought of it at the time. Just so the hated soul would have the memory should the bothersome thing ever show itself again.
That of course was no longer likely. We'd taken measures to make sure that would never happen again. It was after all why he'd turned me. So that he would have someone to worry about those details for him, so that he could concentrate on what he does best, tormenting his victims. Angelus had always considered torturing his subjects the
highest art form. Sire had lost perspective last time he'd been out. He'd been out of control, his rage at being confined behind Angel for over a century overwhelming him. It had occurred to Angelus just before he was to begin slaughtering me that I might be of some further use to him. That he could heed my counsel, much like his souled counterpart had done.
For me not much had changed, aside from being liberated from my pesky mortal conscience. The only thing that upset me really is that he'd turned Winifred. He'd let me play first though. I'd shown her the error of choosing Charles over me.
Of course while Fred had suffered for hours at the hands of myself and Sire, she had eventually been turned. I know that my desire to see the jezebel killed was emotional. I realized that even then. I think I wanted her still even in the infancy of our dark family. I could see her usefulness has well. There had been cases where her knowledge had been nearly as useful as mine during our time with Angel Investigations. But while Winifred had her scientific skills and I had my occult knowledge, Charles was merely muscle and minions were in no short supply.
I know that it probably sounds hypocritical, but I was very pleased that Angelus had let Winifred and I keep him. Unlike the others though, I knew no one was coming for Gunn. Charles had turned his back on his old followers when he'd come to work for Angel and they had pretty much washed their hands of him. He fought me so hard in those early days, though he did seem to prefer my company to Winifred's. He'd always come back from her rooms in worse shape then when he left mine.
I distinctly remember sitting on one of the recliners in the den as she handed his leash to me one day about a week after Spike had claimed the boy. I was still so young then. Hadn't been out of the grave more than a couple of months at that point, far too young to have a pet, but Sire liked to indulge us. I think he also enjoyed making us share him, watching us fight over him like children over a favored toy. That is after all what he was. Only unlike Alexander,
Charles had no official claim on him. Only my presence or Winifred's protected him from the minions. Though Doc, as some of the minions had taking to calling her behind her back due to her penchant for performing gruesome experiments on her meals before finishing them off, had a tendency to loan him out to various male minions. She liked to watch them use him. Another reason he preferred my company.
I made use of him and I wasn't always gentle. I occasionally hurt him, but tended to simply prefer something warm in my bed and around my cock. Once I'd gotten tired of taking out my anger on him over Fred's choice, I was relatively kind, as long as he didn't fuss.
That day I could tell that Winifred had been indulging. His back had been covered in welts and bruises and he'd reeked of at least a half dozen minions. She'd brought him to me half naked, only wearing skimpy shorts. My eyes flashed gold for a moment as I'd growled accepting the chain from her dainty hand. I'd stopped just short of slipping
unwillingly into my true face something both she and I knew my Sire would have punished me severely for.
"There you are Pryce, I got him all primed for you. I'll see you in a couple of days Baby, be a good boy for Master," the dark haired vampiress had cooed, bending low to kiss his kneeling form. She'd cuffed him when he couldn't quite suppress a shudder.
"Winifred," I'd warned. She'd smirked at me, looking over a leather clad shoulder, before walking away. I'd reached down and petted him as he'd subconsciously leaned into my leg.
"Poor Charley. Who would have thought that she'd end up being the most vicious of the pair? Maybe she hasn't forgiven you for sitting by and doing nothing while your protector here and I raped her," Angelus had taunted laughing, idly fondling one of Dawn's breasts. The mortal had stiffened against me. "Better hope that Pryce doesn't do something to piss me off. I might have to give you to her exclusively."
Brilliant. I wasn't like Angelus and Winifred, or the rest of the childer in the court for that matter. I am a vampire. When I got hungry I ate someone, but I had absolutely no interest in the mind games the others seemed to delight in. Even I had had to admire what my sire had just done, twisting the knife in the vampire hunter's heart reminding him that he was seeking comfort from one of the very creatures that had tortured and killed the woman he had once loved, playing on his guilt all the while threatening to take away his only source of safety and security.
We'd tied him to a chair and left him to watch as we defiled and tormented Fred. Charles had virtually shredded the flesh of his wrists and ankles trying to break free that night. He still bears the scars. He'd initially only been kept alive as a first meal for Winifred. I'd hurt him in those long hours before she awoke, forced myself into him repeatedly without care or preparation. Yet she still frightened him more than me. She hadn't wanted to kill him straight away; she'd wanted to play, virtually unheard of for a newly risen fledge. The hunger is all consuming. I hadn't even thought as I made my first kill. I'd had one focus only: Blood. Not her though, she'd wanted to make him scream first. That's when Angelus had decided that we could keep him.
I was brought out of my reverie by Charles. He'd started trembling slightly against me. He'd looked exhausted and I doubted that she'd let him sleep. He probably hadn't eaten either.
"Did she feed you, Charles?" I had asked rubbing the back of his neck.
"No, Master." Oh how he'd hated saying that. Gunn had never been submissive by nature, but he'd been both tired and hungry that day. It had taken some time, but he'd eventually learned that some battles just weren't worth fighting. When faced with a choice between starvation and his pride, keeping up his energy level was more important.
I had called over to one of the minions and ordered him to get Charles something to eat. Pushing his head into my lap I'd told him to rest until the food came. He'd barely resisted. He'd fallen into a light doze in seconds.
Spike had chosen that moment to stroll into the room. His gaze immediately went to the teenager perched on Angel's lap. She'd been as always scantily attired. Upon seeing his disgraced grandchild Angelus had slid a powerful hand under the tiny pink plaid skirt his pet was wearing. She'd squeaked in surprise, but otherwise didn't move.
"Spike, It's not polite to stare. Didn't I give you your own Scooby to play with?" The larger vampire had smirked, before violently claiming Dawn's mouth. The blond vampire had looked has though he was barely suppressing a growl.
"Doesn't smell like it," a cheery voice had remarked. "It doesn't seem fair that Pryce and Winifred get a pet and even Spike gets a pet, but that I don't. Especially when he's not even using him," the youngest member of our dark family observed.
"Red does make a valid point," Angelus had mused. "You're not following through with our agreement William. Maybe I will turn him over to my girl."
"He's been too torn. I've let him heal that's all," the souled vampire had replied.
"Such a generous master, I've fucked my dirty girl plenty of times in the past week. You like having Master's cock inside you don't you sweetheart," our clan leader had leered, taking care to make the movement of his hand between her legs more obvious.
"Yes, Master," she'd whispered back, eyes downcast. She had begun to respond to his touch, I had been able to smell it from where I was sitting and I knew that Spike must have been able to as well.
"If I don't smell him all over you tomorrow I turn him over to the minions. Are we clear Will?" the older vampire had warned.
"Crystal," Spike had snapped back, turning and leaving the room in a huff. Just then a simpering little minion, that I hadn't recognized, had returned with a tray for Charles. I'd shaken his shoulder needlessly, knowing full well that he'd woken the moment Spike had arrived and voices had begun to rise. Unhappily he'd begun eating from my hand, too starved to risk losing the meal.
"But Daddy, why can't I have him? I'm so bored" Red had chimed in petulantly.
"Hush, Princess. You don't want Spike's sloppy seconds. You want a pet, we'll get you one. We'll go to the cells and get you one," Angelus had soothed. I'd been inwardly pleased by their departure. My pet had needed to rest badly and after they left I'd had no reason to linger. I'd casually fed Gunn the rest of his meal, not wanting to seem too eager to leave in front of the minions before giving his lead a quick tug and leading him out of the room.
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