Author's note: There is Spike/Dru in this chapter, and it's graphic, but it's not at all romantic, in point of fact it rather proves the point that Drusilla can never really be what Spike wants or needs. I swear this is the only scene with them having sex you'll see!

Thank you Dawn and Lis for your excellent beta work, I love you guys!

Thank you wonderful readers, you give me the drive to write this story!!!

Chapter 2

He could feel the rejuvenating power of blood as it coursed through his body, making him feel alive at least for a minute. There was nothing better than blood, sex and violence...not necessarily in that order.


He tossed aside the cooling corpse of the young woman, her body hitting the pavement, her lifeless eyes staring at him blankly from the ground. Spike stepped over her and grabbed Drusilla around the waist, hauled her to him and met her lips in a violent outburst of passion and tongues. They could taste the blood of their respective victims and groaned with desire.


Spike quickly turned Drusilla around and pinned her to the wall of the building, nipping at her lips with blunt teeth. Her hands kept roaming all over his backside as she broke the kiss. Her face morphed and she bit into his jugular, drawing his blood into her mouth. Spike moaned from the pleasure of being bit by his sire and slowly brought his hand between her pale thighs, stroking her, teasing her with his long fingers before thrusting two fingers inside. Drusilla drew her fangs out of his throat and moaned.


“Spike, give mummy her milk. She's been a good girl,” she cooed in a childish voice, drew the zipper of Spike's jeans down, reached inside and drew out his fully erect length. Her cold hands enveloped it and started stroking it with long twists.


“Just like that, luv! Oh God!” Spike inhaled sharply and leaned one of his hands on the wall behind her to steady himself, as his other kept thrusting inside her.


“Harder Spike! Just like daddy does...make me bleed and scream!”


This brought a painful lurch inside his heart and nearly made him lose his arousal, but he was too bloody horny to stop now. He'd just have to mope later, and instead he decided on channeling his rage the best way possible. Into anger. He spun her around and ripped her dress off as he situated himself between her legs.


“You want harder, Dru? I'll give you harder!”


Drusilla cooed in delight as he drew out his fingers and worked his thick shaft inside her in one thrust and kept ramming it inside her with bruising strokes. Her hands clawed at the wall as she moaned in pleasure. Spike buried his hand in Drusilla's hair, tugging it backwards until her neck was fully exposed to him. He bit down hard and drew blood into his mouth. His other hand snuck its way to the front of her body, sliding down, pinching her nipples on the way until Spike reached Drusilla's clit, twisting it expertly between his fingers. He could feel Dru starting to reach her climax and as she fell over the edge, he growled in her ear possessively,


“Mine!” His thrusts slowed down as he waited for her response.


Drusilla, still coming off her high, responded by laughing like an insane woman, giggling madly and saying, “I only belong to my daddy, my William.”


Spike roared in anger and slipped out of her, his still erect penis jutting out of his unzipped jeans. Drusilla kept giggling and started twirling with her arms outstretched and half of her velvet dress ripped off, like she didn't have a care in the world, like she just didn't break his heart. She left him there, standing with his heart shattered to pieces and still hard as a nail.


“Sod this!” Spike angrily tucked himself inside his jeans and winced as the zipper dug painfully into his flesh. He sighed and muttered angrily at himself, “Bloody pillock!”
He shook his head at his own stupidity of even assuming she would want to be his, just as he was already hers and then did what he always had. He followed Drusilla into the darkness of night.


Tomorrow. Tomorrow he'd find what he came for. He'd find the Slayer, kill her, pick his teeth with her bones and make Drusilla love him.
He had no idea that he was walking right in to the path of his own destruction.

*****

5 months ago


Buffy hummed a random pop melody as she schemed a way to escape Merrick's tyrant tendencies while twirling a stake in her hand. All work and no play made Buffy a cranky slayer. Besides, there was this guy that she was so crushing on, and he’d asked her out! But there was also stupid nest of undead menaces she’d had to clear out first, and how was that fair exactly? Why did she have to be the one to keep the forces of darkness at bay? She was only seventeen --okay sixteen and half-- but she should be on a date with a sweet guy, twirling hair around her finger and flirting with her eyes, then go home, call her best friend --if she had one that is-- and tell her all about it in a colorful detail! Not tracking down and slaying icky dead things and getting various fluids on her expensive shoes!


She shouldn't have to beg some old tweedy British guy --and what kind of sick weirdo would wear tweed in California-- to give her time off. She shouldn't have to climb through her window to hide her bloodied clothes from her mother, and she most definitely shouldn't have to be out at the morning sneaking her way through the seediest parts of LA looking for vampires!


It was a miracle as it was that Tony had asked her out, what with her being recently labeled the biggest freak in the school, therefore being avoided like a plague. Maybe that was why he had asked her out, since he seemed to be on a darker side himself. Or at least he obviously thought he did, but frankly, he most certainly knew nothing about the things that went bump in the night, and if he did he'd run screaming like a little girl.


“Slayer!” hissed a vampire that sneaked out of the shadows and took a defensive stance.


“Slayee!” Buffy smirked and mirrored his position as they circled each other, her hold on the stake tightening as she took in her opponent.


“Oh my God, where the hell did you dig up that atrocious sweater? That is so 80's!” She looked at him with disbelieving eyes. The vampire looked down at his sweater and then back at her with a confused frown on his face. Buffy used his surprise to her advantage, ran at him full speed, knocked him down and rammed the stake into his heart before he had a chance to recuperate. The dust fell on her shoes and she wrinkled her nose in disgust.


“Damn, you can't even have a proper conversation with them anymore, and why the hell would anyone wear something like that? Gross!” She shivered in disgust and took a step forward, but was halted by two vampires stepping out from an abandoned warehouse.


“What is it with you bad guys running in packs?” Buffy twirled her stake as she faced off her opponents. Sure, they were two, but if she kept her eyes open and her senses alert, she could take them.


Three vampires stepped out behind her and two more at her sides and their leader said in an amused and cocky voice, “We sure do, Slayer.”
Buffy looked around her and muttered under her breath, “Oh crap!”


Then all the hell broke loose and she fought for her life, every cell in her body vibrated with unrestrained strength and adrenaline. She was getting weaker by every punch she'd thrown and was thrown back at her with equal force. Buffy swiveled around, ducked a fist directed at her face and managed to stake one of them, but the one behind her managed to kick her legs out and she landed heavily on her back. Black dots swam around her vision and before she could get up, a needle was injected in the artery of her neck. The last thing she saw was a leering face of a demon.


Buffy woke up few hours after and with it came several realizations.


First, her head pounded as though a death metal band set up a concert in her skull. Second, her wrists and ankles were chained to a wall behind her so she was unable to take more than one step, and third, she'd been stripped naked.


That was when the fear came, wrapping around her with its poisonous vines and squeezing her innards with a terrifying intensity. She shook from the sheer force of it and even though she tried to calm down and plan an escape, she couldn't think clearly. There was no way she'd be able to break free of those chains. They were sturdy and heavy and possibly enchanted as well.


A man, no, a vampire entered the cell and it was the same one whose face she had seen before the darkness fell over her. He...was nothing she would have expected. There was nothing outstanding or special about him at all. He could be around thirty years old when he was turned, regular height, white sallow skin, short brown hair and a face that could be anyone's. A neighbor whose name you couldn't remember, a face of a man you used to meet while shopping for groceries, even a man sitting in a bus next to you. Someone whose face didn't resonate, forgettable.


The only thing that separated him from the others were his eyes. Eyes of a killer, merciless and full of painful anger and hatred. Frozen icicles amidst the green of his eyes that shot straight through Buffy and embedded themselves in her soul. Mocking smirk stretched his thin lips as he said with a false smile, “Finally awake, are we, sunshine?”


“What the hell did you do to me you sick freak?” She wasn't one to be intimidated no matter what. The warrior inside would never relent and submit to a creature so far beneath her.


His smirk changed into an ugly grimace of anger and he struck her hard with the back of his hand.


“Have I permitted you to speak? You're nothing here, and there's no way out so don't even try. From this point on, you only speak when you're allowed to and you're to obey everything you're told, are we clear?”


“Like hell I am! When I'm free you're going to wish you were never born! Get these chains off me right now!” Buffy mouthed off and was punched in the face repeatedly until she lost consciousness as a result.


She'd soon learn it was hardly the worst thing that could be done to her for her disobedience.


Present time


Buffy was jarred out of her walk down the memory lane as she was hauled to her feet and led out of her cell by the chains that shackled her wrists. She followed her own personal tormentor, Lukas, with an overwhelming numbness growing inside, the only thing preserving her sanity.


TBC