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Influence of Demons by gabrielleabelle
 
Power
 
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She was gone when he woke up.

Spike hadn't meant to fall asleep. He couldn't afford to waste time on sleeping. Not with Ugvan's men after him about the payment for his operation. Being around the Slayer exhausted him, though. He had to try to keep up with her, figure out what the hell she was blathering on about. Plus, dealing with her persistent hostility and defiance. Who was it who said "Hell is other people"? Some smart bloke, that's for sure. Spike was stuck in his own version of hell with a Slayer who was not a Slayer anymore. That wouldn't do. He was certain that he'd need to get that fixed before they could cross back over.

So he'd fallen asleep.

And now she was gone. As was his bag full of the money he'd been planning to offer Dehevret in exchange for the book he needed.

Bitch.

He sensed it as he was standing up, though. A heartbeat thumping calmly a few dozen yards ahead of him in the tunnel. Spike walked through the darkness to approach the small figure curled up against the wall. Buffy was asleep, duffel bag by her side. He could tell at a glance that the bag was still full. Looked like she had a change of heart. Good. He may have threatened to kill her earlier, but he couldn't actually do that. Not if he wanted to get back to the other world.

"Hey," he said in an attempt to wake her up. It didn't work. He kicked her foot lightly with his boot. "Slayer."

She stirred this time, squinting in the dim light as she tried to get her bearings. Her face scrunched up in a yawn as she stretched, arms raised overhead. Spike watched her shifting body, irrationally fixated on the tiny movements she made as she woke up. It was hard to see most of the time. But sometimes, he actually recognized her as the girl he'd known in Sunnydale. A lithe beauty. There'd be a tiny movement or sound she'd make that would just be Buffy. He wanted to see more of that.

"The ground softer there, pet, or were you planning on running off on me?" he asked.

She blinked the last remnants of sleep from her eyes. Her eyes flew to the duffel and then back to him as if she were surprised to find herself there. She stood up, feet scraping against the ground as she hefted the duffel onto her shoulder more securely.

"I didn't run," she said. "I thought about it. But I didn't. Okay?"

He tilted his head. "Why not?"

"Huh?"

"Why didn't you run?"

She stood still as a statue for a few moments. Spike was about ready to just shrug it off and forget about it when she answered. "Because you may scare me…but I scare myself even more."

As far as cryptic answers go, that ranked high up on his list. Must be the withdrawal.

"You're scared of me?" he asked, going for the obvious.

She frowned. "That's not what I meant. It's…the things you're doing…"

He allowed his gaze to run over her body. The glow protested, but he growled at the bloody thing. "Thought you liked the things I do…"

He barely noticed as she backed against the wall. Instead, he raised a hand and ran it down her side, her hip, her thigh. Stepping closer, he pressed his body against hers, searching for that desire that she'd shown for him before. Her breathing was tight, and he could hear her heart beating quickly. She inhaled sharply as he groped her breast through her shirt.

He was shaken by the glow screaming sirens at him. He blinked, realizing that he couldn't smell Buffy's arousal. Her heart wasn't beating out of desire; it was beating out of fear. She was staring down at the floor beside him, arms at her side. A far cry from the sex kitten he'd had at his place before.

Spike backed away a couple paces quickly, breathing heavily. It wasn't just the glow inside him that was horrified at the scene. She'd been used enough. Now he was trapping her against a wall and assaulting her? Dammit, she wasn't supposed to act like that. She'd started the whole fucking thing between them anyway.

Wasn't right, though. She'd changed her mind somehow. Didn't want him now. Fine, then. He'd gone without for five years. He could do it again. The glow approved. His cock didn't. Fucking glow.

"Let's go. Got a bit of a trek ahead of us," he said before turning. He didn't say a word about what had just happened.

Neither did she. "Where are we going?" Buffy caught up to him.

Yesterday, he wouldn't have told her. Today, though…

Fucking glow.

"Big boss type," he explained. "Name's Dehevret. He has operations round the world. Word has it he's got a book I need to get a portal open back to our world."

He sensed her heart speed up when he mentioned going home. The thought still frightened her. She didn't say anything about it, though.

"And the money is to pay for the book?" she asked.

"The money is an offering." Spike glanced at her. "Listen, this guy's dangerous. You gotta brownnose or you aren't getting nothing. He's well-protected, too. Just getting in to see him's gonna take some work on my part. So don't go fucking things up by acting like a mad hatter. You just keep quiet and follow my lead."

"Yeah, cause you're so personable." He could hear the frown in her voice.

"I'm personable," he protested.

She looked at him skeptically.

"I am!"

She shrugged. "Okay, Mr. Grouchy. You're just overflowing with likeability."

The exchange should have left him irritated with her. Instead, he found a comfortable familiarity with it.

***

He'd never been to Dehevret's before. But any demon worth his weight in blood knew where he was. And most of them knew well and good to stay away from him. Spike needed a favor, however, and he had few other options.

There was an underground entrance to accommodate the subterranean demons. The tunnels opened into a huge circular room. The walls were covered with scrawled runes, dripping various potions for enchantments. A symbolic hawk adorned the floor, to protect and watch for enemies.

Standing guard before the overly large double doors were a pair of Gregnal demons. They were smarter than your average muscle. Dehevret had to make sure to get guards who would be able to grant admission when needed, after all.

Without hesitation, Spike walked up to the guards. He found his stride quickly, reverting back to his old poise as best he knew how. Buffy didn't know what the hell she was talking about. He was very personable.

"I'm here to see Dehevret," he announced.

The guard to the right replied, "He's not expecting any vampires." The guard sneered as he spat out the last word. Great. Spike just had to run into a demon who didn't like vamps. Damn racism. "What's your business?"

Spike signaled to Buffy to come forward. "I have an offering for him." Buffy held out the duffel while Spike unzipped it, displaying the piles of money to the two guards.

They didn't look impressed. Fuck.

"Your business is to give him an offering?" the guard asked.

Spike closed the bag. "He has a book I need. I'd like to negotiate a trade for it."

The guard laughed, displaying jagged, yet well-maintained, teeth. "You want to see Dehevret to get a book?"

"The Book of Langlar, yeah."

Both the guards' composures changed in an instant. Spike tried not to frown, but it was difficult. He hadn't expected a response like that.

"Why do you want that book?"

He heard Buffy huff behind him. Before he could stop her, she'd stepped in front of him.

"Does it matter?" she asked. "We got money. Just let us see the guy to ask him about the fucking book!" She walked away, waving her hand. "Demons are always so dramatic. All with the formal shit."

Spike nervously watched to make sure Buffy wouldn't be punished for her outburst. The guards seemed more curious than anything, though. With a silent look at one another, they stepped aside. The guard on the right opened the door.

"Wait in the foyer. You'll be called back when Dehevret is ready to see you," the guard explained.

Buffy bound in ahead of him, obviously happy that her method had worked. Spike rolled his eyes as he followed her in.

They were in an octagonal room. A single door stood at the opposite end and around the walls were benches. The benches were full of demons. Demons sitting, laying down, reading paperbacks. Some were on the floor, passing a crossword back and forth.

Damn. There was a queue to see the guy.

Buffy was looking around. The rest of the demons barely glanced up at their entrance.

"How long have they been waiting?" Buffy whispered to Spike.

"Four days," a Minoa demon by the door interjected. "Should have packed some food."

Spike saw an open spot across the room in one of the corners. He grabbed Buffy's elbow and led her over.

"We're not gonna wait in here!" she said.

"Don't got a choice."

"For days? What if I have to pee?"

"Then you wet yourself. We're not gonna be making any trouble here." He leaned in closer so only she could hear him. "Especially without your powers."

Buffy glared at him, but she sat down on the bench, crossing her arms and defiantly not looking at him.

As soon as Spike bent his knees to sit down next to her, a tiny demon emerged from the door. Spike didn't recognize the type of demon. It wore glasses, though, and was wearing formal wear.

"Dehevret will see the vampire now!" he announced to the room.

Snarls emanated from the other demons as they noticed that the vampire and human couple that had just entered were being sent to the front of the queue. Spike looked around, throwing a smirk at them.

Buffy was standing beside him. "It's been four days already?" she whispered.

He ignored her, stepping forward to address the small demon.

"That'd be me and the lady here," Spike said.

The demon looked both of them up and down, then swiftly turned and began walking through the door. "Follow me."

It was a long walk. Spike should have expected that. After all, they were underground and Dehevret's chambers were above the surface. He hadn't expected it to be so cold, though. While the cold didn't bother him, he could still feel it. Buffy was beside him, arms folded around herself while she shivered. Course she was cold. Scrawny, craving her drugs, thin shirt.

She could have run from him. He'd thought she had for a moment. She'd stayed, though. Something, somehow, had made her stay. Spike couldn't pretend that this didn't please him in some way. Considering how desperate she'd been to leave earlier, he thought of this as a great deal of progress. He was just slightly suspicious of her change of heart. She came around too quickly. Much too quickly.

The glow scolded him for his suspicions, but Spike growled at it. No matter. The glow was always too trusting. Spike had to follow his instinct. Things still weren't right with the girl. She might just be biding her time. He couldn't have that.

They arrived.

Spike could tell they were above ground. The room was large with a round window set in the ceiling. Sunlight shone down to the middle of the room, effectively blocking Spike's path. Across the field of light was a throne. As if the man were a bloody king.

Dehevret, an Iyagi demon, stood at seven feet tall. He looked mainly human, however, only his height and his red eyes betraying his demonhood. Surrounding his throne were various lackeys that Spike paid little attention to. There were also a large number of women. Human women. Naked human women. Spike inhaled slightly, almost overwhelmed by the pheromones in the air.

Off to the side of the throne, one woman was on her stomach, hogtied and gagged. Spike could tell from the bloody wrists and ankles that she'd been left in that position for a long time, most likely as a punishment for something. He couldn't help the pang of sympathy that the glow forced upon him.

"The vampire," Dehevret's voice boomed as he leaned back in his seat. One of the lackeys, a scrawny, shorter demon, placed a hand on the arm of the throne and peered forward at Spike and Buffy. "I hear you're interested in the Book of Langlar."

Spike nodded. Wordlessly, he took the duffel from Buffy and tossed it into the circle of light.

"I'm willing to make an offering for it," he explained.

The smaller demon scurried forward, opening and inspecting the contents of the bag.

"I'm sure you've had a long journey here, vampire," Dehevret said. "Do you want something to eat? Or maybe you'd rather partake in some blood from your slavegirl there…I don't mind."

Buffy stepped forward. "I'm not his slavegirl," she crossed her arms. "He took me away from my - "

"Troubles," Spike interrupted quickly, grabbing Buffy around the waist and pulling her close beside him. "She's a spitfire, this one. That's the way I like it." He grinned, glancing down at Buffy, who looked decidedly not happy with his story.

"Hmmm," Dehevret stroked the sole of the foot of the hogtied girl. She screamed through the gag. "You're far more lenient than I am, vampire. Please, don't be shy. Eat if you need to."

The vein in Buffy's neck was enticing at that moment as Spike remembered how long it had been since he'd eaten. Pretty long. He was hungry. And eating from a human? Something he hadn't done in a long time.

The pulse pumped faster as he watched her neck, hypnotized by the throbbing.

No, the glow protested. Wouldn't be right. Drinking from her.

Spike cleared his throat, trying to calm the demon inside. "Not hungry," he said while looking back at Dehevret. "I can eat later. We got ourselves a deal on the book?"

The duffel had been brought to Dehevret, who was casually glancing at the money within.

"Why do you want the Book of Langlar?" Dehevret asked.

"I like reading."

Dehevret chuckled, focusing his attention on Buffy. "I want her," he said.

Spike sensed Buffy tense beside him. "She's not on the table," Spike replied.

"No girl, no book." Dehevret shrugged, scratching at the bound girl's feet with his nails. Spike could smell the fresh blood.

Buffy had backed up a couple steps when Spike didn't immediately reply. He grabbed her elbow, keeping her at his side. Wouldn't do to have her running away now. Dehevret had a lot of girls already. This had to be a test of some type. Spike would just have to make sure he passed.

Spike growled, going into vamp-face as he pulled Buffy in towards him. He held her from behind, pressing his body against her back. The vein caught his attention again, and he grabbed her by the hair, pulling her head to the side to expose her neck.

"I said she's not on the table," he said to Dehevret. "Leave a vamp his girl, yeh?"

Buffy's fingers tightened on his arms. She must've been afraid of him losing control.

Dehevret sat back, looking pensive. The seconds seemed to last years as Spike gazed at Buffy's neck, stretched out like a platter. Blood just below the surface. Pounding. Warming. Enticing. It smelled like home. Just a taste, maybe. The glow couldn't deny him just a small taste.

"Very well," Dehevret said finally, breaking Spike's concentration. Reluctantly, Spike relaxed his hold on Buffy. She quickly moved away from him, leaving his body hard and unsatisfied. "Jigal," Dehevret ordered. "Go fetch the book from the vault."

The small demon ran to get it. Spike nodded in acknowledgement. "Thank you," he said.

The scent of Buffy's blood still held him captive, though. She was standing as far away from him as she could, arms folded around herself. She was terrified of him. He liked it.

Meanwhile, Dehevret sat idly, inspecting the pair. Spike was certain that the demon boss wasn't going to give up the book so easily. He'd barely put up a fight to get Buffy. Instead, it seemed as if Dehevret were feeling him out to see what Spike's game was. Great. Not only would Spike have to deal with Ugvar's men, now he had the attention of Dehevret. He just wanted to get home.

The servant returned with the large tome, loose pages sticking out at odd angles. At Dehevret's nod, the servant tossed the book into the middle of the circle of sunlight. It landed in a plume of dust, filtering sunbeams.

"Pet," Spike said. "Go get the book."

Buffy hesitated slightly before walking into the middle of the room. Spike kept an eye on Dehevret and his servants. The other demons remained still, no threatening moves made towards Buffy.

Once she was safely back at his side, Spike nodded at Dehevret. "You are as generous as your reputation says you are," he said.

Dehevret smiled. "See them out," he ordered.

The exit they took was different than the entrance. It was, however, equally long, and they were still taken to the tunnels. Spike could scarcely believe that he had been successful. Somehow, he had doubted that he'd actually be able to get the book from Dehevret. It made him suspicious. Things were working out too easily. He'd spent five years getting this far. Why was everything just now falling into place? He didn't trust luck.

Buffy was sitting on a ledge in the tunnels, browsing through the book. "It's not in English," she murmured.

"Yeah. I know of a bloke who can translate it for us."

He was so hungry.

"You alright with another long trip?" he asked.

She nodded, still looking down at the book.

He stepped closer to her. "That's a rather sudden change of heart now."

Buffy looked up, confused. "What?

"Not too long ago, you were trying to escape and go back to your pimp. Now, you're happily following me." He sat beside her, brushing her hair back from her neck. "Makes it hard to trust you when you do something like that."

"Maybe you shouldn't trust me," she said.

He wasn't looking at her. Only her neck. Her perfectly smooth neck. The perfect vessel. He'd backed off his advances before. However, holding her in Dehevret's chambers had brought with it the full force of his desire for her. Sparked by the small portion of home he could see in her. He wanted so much to taste her.

"Spike," she whispered on an exhale. "I want you…but we shouldn't - "

"Fuck what we 'should' do," Spike growled. His fangs came out, and he buried them in her throat, holding her tight. They fell back on the ledge as Spike drank her blood, ignoring the cries of the glow in its protest.

Buffy held his head tight to her as he thrust his jean-clad groin against her center. Distantly, he could hear her moaning in pleasure, but he was barely aware of anything besides the rich taste of her life's blood. His entire body was hot with her inside him.

Something else caused him to stop, though. The glow, pounding in his head as Buffy's pulse slowed. Spike drew his head back, looking down at Buffy's pale face. Two ragged holes in her neck made her his. He was hard just looking at her. So hard. He needed more of her.

Roughly, he yanked down her jeans. She made a small noise but otherwise lay still. She was wet, though, from the bite. She wanted him.

His glow wouldn't let him take her until he knew for sure, though. Not after what had happened earlier, when she'd resisted his advances.

"Buffy," he said, exercising as much self-control as he had. "Tell me it's alright. I just need you so bad now. Just say 'yes'."

Her eyes opened slightly, focusing on him in the dim light of the tunnels. She nodded. "Yes," she said in a whisper.

All he needed. The glow wasn't entirely happy, but it would do. Spike unzipped his jeans, not wasting any time in entering her. Furiously, he pounded into her pussy with an animal-like intensity. She was still, only releasing small gasping noises on occasion. He didn't care. Her blood was coursing through his veins, fueling his passion.

She had to know. If she were planning to run away from him or betray him, this would show her that he had control. She couldn't escape him. He would unleash his demon upon her without a second thought.

Well, he'd humor the glow first. But then there wouldn't be a second thought.

Her eyes opened. She stared up at him, breath hitching as he fucked her. She was home. He had to hold onto her and make her stay with him. It was in her eyes that he saw the promise of Sunnydale and the life he'd left behind. He needed her.

He came with a growl, hips meeting Buffy's with one last thrust. He shook off his vamp-face. He'd proven his point.

Buffy reached a hand out, lightly pushing against his abdomen for him to get off her. "The book fell off the ledge," she said softly.

Spike nodded, sitting and zipping his pants back up. Buffy pulled hers back on before slowly sitting up, hand to the bite on her neck.

"You feeling woozy?" he asked. "Should probably get you something to eat."

He stood, grabbing the Book of Langlar and trying to get his bearings. He'd have to go up to the surface to get food and find out where they were. Then figuring out the way to Wyver's place to get the book translated. First task was finding a way up top.

Buffy was leaning against the ledge, eyes down at her feet. She was chewing on her lip, but she stopped in order to speak:

"I hate you."

***

"Jigal," Dehevret mused while watching his bound slavegirl. She had stopped wiggling, but dropping spiders on her made her start struggling again. He liked to watch her wriggle in her bonds. Humans looked so delicate. And yet this girl had lasted a day already in this state. Humans were the essence of resilience. Always going forward, always surviving. Even when the world dirtied and stained them, they persevered. Like roaches.

Tonight, he would fuck and kill this particular slave. Put her out of her misery. Dehevret considered himself a merciful demon in that way.

Jigal was waiting by the foot of his throne. The small, wiry demon had been his loyal servant for many years. The outside world wasn't a safe place for Jigal. Other demons weren't tolerant towards beings with souls. Jigal was a rare breed of demon who was born with one. It made him an outcast. Dehevret, though, saw it as a benefit. Another perspective on the world. Jigal served him in return for his protection.

"I need you to find out why the vampire wanted that book," Dehevret said. "Find out who that girl is. And see if this has any relation to the incident from five years ago." Dehevret met Jigal's beady eyes, knowing that the other demon would know what he was speaking of.

Jigal nodded. "Of course. I'll follow them, my lord." He hesitated. "The vampire…he was different. He has his soul."

Just the perceptiveness Dehevret had come to expect from Jigal. Dehevret shook his head, though. "Not quite, Jigal. The vampire is fractured and at odds with himself. He doesn't have his soul. The vampire has a soul."

tbc...
 
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