Amazing banner by xaphania


Chapter 15


Sneaking into the old vampire’s house proved to be trickier than Spike anticipated. One obviously didn’t become the vampire Master of England without taking the necessary precautions to stay that way. A pack of minions guarded every entrance.


Spike clung to the shadows as he stalked down the corridor with a grin on his face. He’d already taken down all the guards he could find and had taken great pleasure in their brutal demise. He wasn’t above ripping their heads clean off. They had actually managed to look confused and surprised when they’d realized he was a vampire too. As if he was bound by rules not to kill his kind. What did he care?


'Bugger the rules.'


His footsteps didn’t make a sound in the silence as he finally located the Master’s lodgings. The heavy, tackily ornate door couldn’t have belonged to anyone else. Nor could the power radiating from behind them. Spike had done his research on the older vampire and found out he’d done in a couple of Slayers in his time before relocating to England and making a name for himself by killing all those who opposed him. Spike could respect him for that and the fact the other vampire was a much more experienced fighter gave him the thrill to engage him in a battle to death. Spike had nothing to lose.


He slammed the wooden door open with the palms of his hands, sending it crashing against the walls. A moment of astonished silence followed his big entrance, and he waltzed in as if he owned the place.


The vampire rose from his bed and roared. “Where’s my security?”


Spike hooked his thumbs into the loops on his tight jeans and smirked. “A bit unreliable, aren’t they? You should think of finding some replacements.”


“Who are you? What the hell are you doing in my bedroom?” Spittle flew from the vampire’s mouth, the vein in his neck bulging out, causing Spike’s grin to widen.


“Name’s Spike, mate. Seems like we have some business to settle.”


The vampire approached Spike with a warning scowl on his face, dressed only in pajama pants. Spike arched a brow and tilted his head up to meet his angry black eyes.


“Did Darla send you? Because I told her there would be no negotiating, and I stand by it. You’ve been drawing too much attention, and I’ll have no one challenging my authority. This is the last warning. Leave and take those Aurelian whores with you before I get really angry.”


Spike bit his lip in pretend thought, tapping his chin with his forefinger. “I’ve thought about it and my answer is… no, you stupid git. We’re bloody well staying here for as long as we please. One little threat won’t drive us away.”


“Who do you think you are, fledge? I’m Earl Abbington! I’ll teach you how to respect your elders!”


The vampire shifted into game face and roared before he made a move to throttle Spike. Expecting the violent response, Spike ducked under his arm and punched Abbington on the side of his head, making him stagger. Adrenaline surged through Spike’s veins as he danced on the balls of his feet, laughing manically.


He was untouchable.


“Come on, show me what you’ve got.” Spike’s bones shifted as his demon took over right before Abbington swirled on his feet and landed a powerful kick to Spike’s midsection.


The pain didn’t matter; it paled in comparison with the need to inflict violence electrifying his skin. He threw himself into the most exhilarating fight he’d ever experienced, the powerful hits almost breaking his bones whenever Abbington managed to get through his defenses. It only spurred him further.


Spike jumped up just in time to avoid getting his feet swept out from underneath him and wasted no time in aiming a roundhouse kick at Abbington’s head. Unfortunately Abbington caught his leg and sent him flying into a nearby wall. Before Spike could get up, Abbington was on him, so Spike grabbed a heavy iron clock sitting on the table next to him and swung it with all his strength at Abbington’s head. The hit connected and Abbington fell backwards, spitting blood on the carpet.


“You’re gonna pay for that,” he growled.


Spike sprung to his feet, as eager as ever though a bit worse for wear.


“Am I, now? Lay it on me then.”
He tucked his tongue behind the front teeth and grinned. Abbington might have been older and a lot stronger, but Spike was faster and knew how to improvise. Being underestimated would work in his advantage.


They traded punches, Spike managing to deflect most of the blows, but the harder he was hit, the more he laughed. Did Abbington think he had the power to hurt him? Physical pain paled in comparison with the torment twisting in his heart and nonexistent soul.


Spike felt Abbington’s nose break under a particularly vicious left hook and didn’t hesitate for a second to grab his opponent’s head and smash it against his knee. The vampire was disoriented for a second too long and Spike sensed the weakness, lunging at the opportunity without any mercy. He kicked Abbington in the chest, grinning with blood covered teeth as Earl lay sprawled on the floor. Before he could stand up, Spike snatched an iron poker resting against the fireplace and speared it through Abbington’s knee. He let out a scream that would have chilled Spike if he hadn’t been the one dealing out the punishment.


“Not feeling so superior now, are we? It’s sad, really. A killer of Slayers outdone by a fledge. How does that make you feel?”


“Fuck… you.”


“Such language. You should think of improving your manners.” Spike lifted the poker in his hand and thrust it into the old vampire’s skull. The skull shattered under the pressure and Abbington let out a gurgling noise, the fingers on his hands twitching. Spike tossed the weapon aside and broke off the leg of a wooden chair before ramming it into the defeated vampire’s heart.


He watched the dust on the carpet for a moment and dropped the makeshift stake. It was this moment that he hated the most. When the adrenaline ran its course and all the other feelings rushed back again. They were always there, tormenting him with William’s failure. His failure. He wasn’t supposed to carry the burden of his human self, so why did it feel like he’d been ripped inside and nothing would ever put the pieces back together? He didn’t want to exist like this.


But what other choice did he have but to live with the memories that haunted his dreams? He just had to keep going, keep fighting, and keep killing anything that crossed his path. Find someone stronger to give him a real challenge. In those moments, only when he was staring death in face, could he feel something other than excruciating pain. The memory of Buffy smiling up at him flickered behind his closed eyelids. Her hair tie burned a hole in the pocket of his jeans and he clenched his teeth in an effort to keep from crying.


He didn’t deserve to grieve.


********


Buffy quietly closed the front door of the flat behind her and fumbled in the darkness of the living room to avoid waking anybody up. Finally, she made it to her room without knocking anything over. It was her home now and the position of furniture was something she knew even with her eyes closed, which suited her just fine in a situation like this.


Only when she was in the safety of her room did she let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t that she was hiding anything. Not really. She just didn’t want to get the third degree from Giles about patrolling twice in the same night. It would be morning soon, but she hadn’t been able to sleep. She never seemed to rest well ever since...


Buffy winced at the uncomfortable feeling of her blood trickling from the cut on her arm. Good thing she had the first aid kit under her bed. She’d just dress the wound and it’d probably heal by morning. Giles would be none the wiser.


Her cut taken care of and her teeth brushed, Buffy slipped under the soft covers and closed her eyes. A memory of the event that happened a couple of days prior to the horrible night lapped at her consciousness before sleep embraced her.


She was walking down the school’s corridors, her steps echoing off the wooden floor. The stairs were cold beneath her butt but she sat down nonetheless, waiting. Then a warm hand touched her shoulder and she almost jumped in surprise. Instead, she laughed at how easily she got startled and turned her head upwards to gaze into William’s smiling face.


“Hello, luv.”


“Hi, yourself,” she said with a breathy voice and blushed as he took her hand and helped her stand up.


He clasped his hand more firmly around hers and took her backpack. “How was your class?”


“Boring. But my day is suddenly getting much better.”


“Interesting.”


“How so?”


“Mine seems to be doing that too.”


Buffy grinned and inconspicuously led him behind a bulky statue near the staircase. If his reddened cheeks and a barely repressed smile were anything to go by, he seemed to be onto her not so pure intentions.


“Umm... Buffy, are you sure this is a good idea? Someone could see us.” Not that he seemed to care all that much from the eagerness Buffy could see in his eyes.


She traced her fingertips down his chest and pouted. “Maybe I was just admiring the school architecture.” She pretended to peruse the statue in question with great interest. “Very... stony.”


William chuckled and stepped closer, dropping her bag on the floor so he could hold her properly. “I missed you. I couldn’t think of anything else but you during the class.”


She almost melted in his embrace and nuzzled his cheek with a wistful sigh. “I hope I’m more interesting than calculus.”


William nodded and tightened his arms around her waist until she was flush against his body from chest to toe. She wasn’t complaining.


“You’ve tied your hair,” he said regretfully and immediately moved to rectify it.


He took out the hair tie with his left hand before running his fingers through the loose strands. She purred against him and bit his earlobe. The way he shivered against her made her smile and try to wriggle impossibly closer. Unable to help herself, Buffy’s arms circled his neck and kissed him. His lips were soft and sweet against hers, though so undeniably masculine that it made her knees weak. It was always when they kissed that William let his passion rule him, his touch sure and arousing, his tongue sliding against hers so sensually she wished she didn’t have to breathe. She could feel the thunder of his heart against her chest and gasped when he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, gently nibbling on it before soothing the ache with his talented tongue.


At last, she drew away, panting for breath as William did the same. They stood there partially hidden by the shadows, embracing and wanting. William tilted his head back a little, just enough to look her in the eye, and she could see there was something important he wanted to tell her. The feeling was so clear in his eyes her heart started to once again gallop beneath her breast. He opened his mouth to speak when a male voice shattered the moment.


“Hey, Summers, didn’t know you gave it up so easily,” the boy said and leered while two of his friends snickered behind him. William’s jaw clenched and his fingers tightened around her waist.


“Watch your mouth,” William growled, and the animalistic side of him unexpectedly made her love him even more.


“Or you’ll do what, Willy? Everyone at this school knows how pathetic you are. I figured if Summers here gave it to you of all people, she must be real easy.”


Before Buffy could give the boy a piece of her mind, William stepped towards the three of them with a furious expression on his face. When she realized how much trouble he’d get into, she came to her senses and snatched his wrist. “William, don’t. They’re not worth it.”


The boys laughed and mocked them and she could feel William tremble with anger. If it were him, he’d just stand there and take it but them insulting her was something he couldn’t abide.


“But they insulted you. They said--”


“William... please.” She stared at him and massaged his wrist with her thumb, hoping to distract him. “Let’s just go.”


“Please, William,” mimicked the boy in an annoying falsetto and his friends laughed.


Buffy glared at them and grasped William’s hand before passing the three boys. One of them slapped her ass and before thinking about it twice, Buffy twisted around and slapped the boy hard across his cheek. He stood there, shocked as he pressed his hand against the stinging skin while William struggled to take in what happened.


“Don’t you dare touch me or talk to me and William like that ever again,” she hissed and heard them mutter insults before she slightly pulled at William’s hand as she walked away.


From the corner of her eye, she could see William gritting his teeth in anger and humiliation as he processed the incident. It practically poured out of him.


“Are you upset with me?” she asked.


He stopped walking and even though he still held her hand, Buffy felt as if he was enclosed in a place she couldn’t reach. “No. It’s me that I’m…” He lifted his gaze to hers and Buffy’s heart clenched at the anguish in his eyes. “Don’t you see, Buffy? How can you even be with me when I can’t… I should have done something. I’m the reason they treat you that way. I should have stepped in, should hav-”


Buffy pressed her forefinger against his lips and shook her head. “William, I can fight my own battles. I don’t want you to do it for me. I don’t expect you to start pummeling anyone that throws an insult my way.”


“But I want to… God, I can’t stand them treating you that way.” He caressed the side of her face, pressing his lips against her temple. “I’ll kill the bastards if they lay a hand on you again.”


The determined, hard voice made Buffy shiver. “You don’t mean that. You could never do anything like that.”


The atmosphere of the dream shifted, and Buffy’s heart picked up in speed as William slipped behind her and encircled her waist with strong arms. The back of her neck tingled in warning as he rasped against her ear.


“Couldn’t I?”


TBC