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Ancient shades by Kur
 
15
 
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CHAPTER 15


Spike had been dreaming of a blue dress and a glass of champagne. Bubbles tickled his nose. A white heather scent wrapped him in warm arms. Till a clattering noise woke him up. A noise and Angelus’s voice delivering him as a dustbin to be filled with useless, rotten rubbish. He stayed still, though. Let that bastard think he’d do whatever he wanted. Let him leave. Let this sodding minion feel confident enough to break his neck. Or show him the way out.

Two hands glided gently along his thighs, over his chest. A pair of legs straddled his hips and a tongue, cold and sickening, flicked on one of his nipples. His eyes flew open, a blue steel cleave that cut the minion’s ministrations. His fist punched the wanker’s nose, sending him to the floor.

“I should kill you, buggering prick.” Spike jumped out from the bed. “I should rip that shaft out from you and shove it up your sorry ass. Make you walk with it stuck in your hole for all the years to come.” He kicked the minion’s stunned face. “But I’m not going to. At least for now. ‘Cause you’re going to show me the way out of here. And if you succeed, maybe, just maybe, I won’t wipe your sodding dust off my hands.”

He picked up the minion’s clothes and checked the size. Too damned small. Tearing the sheet in two, he tied it around his waist like a white sarong before walking towards the door. He pressed an ear against it. Not a sound. As if that room was the only thing in the world. With a strong flick of his wrists he broke the lock and opened a crack. A blue eye peeked down a long, dimly lit corridor.

“Now, - his fingers seized the minion’s throat, - take me to the Slayer.”

“Faith? She is not… not…” The grip didn’t allow too much talk.

“Not that bitch. Buffy. Where do they keep her?” Spike released his hold only a little.

“There’s no other slayer here.” A thumb dug one of his eyes and a few drops of blood trickled from one corner. “I swear it! The other Slayer is out there! Crazy, they say!”

Spike couldn’t believe his luck. This sod wasn’t only a bum-boy but a dork as well! “You know where the witch is?”

“Yes! Yes!” The younger vamp shouted when the thumb went for his other eye. “I’ll take you there!”

“Ladies first then.” Spike quickly skimmed the room looking for some wood he could use as a weapon but everything was either plastic or iron. Snapping necks was all he had left then. His hand held the minion’s nape.

The place was like a maze of yellow, flaky walls. Water fell from the ceilings in constant drops forming dark, smelling puddles on the broken brown tiles of the floor. Bare bulbs hung from wires and did nothing to light the damp hallways. Spike nearly welcomed it. After spending days in Radiance Palace, this was some sort of bliss. Like the past days in Oblivious Land. The problem was that he was going back to the Palace. And nothing he could do, could possibly prepare his eyes for the blinding blast.

“Behind that door.” The vampire pointed at a grey metal surface. “There’s the cage.”

Spike sneered at him and pointed at the door with a quick movement of his head. The minion complied with the silent command. Spike squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

There was something wrong in that room. As he slowly approached the metal humming bars, he checked the cots and the blankets. They were the same. But the lights were bluish. No searing beams ready to destroy his eyes. He touched the bars and a slight shot of energy ran along his arm. Bloody hell! And Willow wasn’t even there.

“Where is she?” He kicked the running vamp in his back. “Where the fuck is…?” He lifted up his head. Steps. Near. Spike snapped the minion’s neck before he could call for help and ran to the door hiding behind it.

Willow entered first followed by a girl. She was even younger than the witch. Spike frowned, a little confused. That girl… she couldn’t be more than fourteen. And that was a guardian? Taking no chances he jumped at her nearly strangling her neck with an iron arm.

“Now be a nice girl and turn round.” His confusion climbed two levels. She was human. But at the same time, she wasn’t. As if she were nothing but an empty shell. He hadn’t time to suss it out, though. His other hand sought Willow’s wrist and forced her to walk behind him. “You’re going to show us the bloody exit. Got it?” The girl nodded with a blank movement. A robot could have been more enthusiastic.

After crossing three corridors, she finally stopped. Spike sighed with some relief. He remembered the big wood boxes. Had come in through a door at the end of that room. Didn’t need the girl that stood in front of him like a figurehead. He vamped out. Couldn’t let her run away and deliver the big news, could he? He retreated his fangs as soon as they pierced the soft flesh. She tasted as a bag full of foul air. Fuck! Spitting a little he pushed her aside and resumed his race. Willow ran behind him as if he were dragging a kite to raise it in the air. Spike stopped and howled like an abandoned wolf.

There was no door but some sort of temple front. Two tall, black columns held a black frieze, from where twisted, suffering, stony faces shouted in silent screams. Two strange birds were perched on each column. They looked like eagles but their bodies were covered in fur instead of feathers. Their long tails waved furiously in the air. Growls resounded at his back. Spike whirled round. Three dark dogs drooling a thick thread of white saliva. Each of them had four mad eyes and curved, sharp claws. Okay, escaping wasn’t going to be that easy. He was about to make a move when Willow threw out her hands. A murmuring chant flowed from her lips as pinkish sparks circled faster and faster above her stretched palms. The sparks turned into red flames and then into something black that grew larger and began to wriggle on the floor like… like black serpents. Spike leapt back a few steps but he couldn’t take his eyes off of the approaching snakes as though he had fallen into some trance. Why didn’t they go for those damned dogs? He couldn’t move. With a great effort, he finally looked at Willow. Her eyes had lost their sweetness and the green fields of their depths were wrapped in black clouds. They were as empty, evil wells. A red flake was stuck to her forehead and it looked like a third flaring eye. Snakes began to creep up his legs, his arms, his neck. “RED!!!” He shouted before falling to the floor, locked up by five cold, black chains.



The Bronze was really bursting that night. After being closed for almost two months by a new decree against immorality and some League of Caring for our Teens’ Health, somebody finally thought the only way of caring about teens was knowing where they were. Nobody could have missed the grand re-opening. Oz had said that if they didn’t show up “they” would know. And he had been right. For a werewolf he was right most of the time. That was a thing Xander could deal with. He had known Oz for… well, not that long. But he was human… almost. He had known him as human and now as… a… demon? Werewolves were demons? Didn’t know and didn’t matter. They just got on well. Maybe ‘cause… And it had nothing to do with Buffy’s personal story with a bleached vampire. ‘Cause it wasn’t the same, was it? Oz didn’t go around killing people. Not that he knew. And about the human part… Now he was entangling things. Better got out of that crowded restroom.

Two steps out and Xander stopped on his track. A well-known dark haired woman caught his sight. Faith… Faith jumping behind some noisy girls with skirts so short that he’d nearly see their… Focus. All Buffy had told them chimed in his head while he took little steps, his back pressed to the back wall. She was spying on them? Xander elbowed the mass of sweaty people and finally reached the couch in which Cordelia was babbling about her next holidays in the French Riviera.

“Faith is here.” Three pair of eyes stared at him as if he had announced he’d a bomb hidden in his underwear. Sort of speak. “I’ve seen her.”

“So… it’s show time then. Can you see her now?” Oz tried to take a glimpse by the corner of one eye but it only hurt. His back was so tense that he thought his transforming ritual would begin in any minute.

“She is six mega-mini skirts from us.” Xander shook his head once more. Man, she really got a nerve! What if Mr. Wyndham… Was he nuts? That priggish guy wouldn’t have recognized a dancing floor even if it had been swept with his own body. Suit and everything. “Maybe you could go for some Cokes? And take Cordelia with you? The deaf could hear when she opens her mouth.” Xander smiled a little just to soothe the angry brunette.

“I’m doing this just to get my life back, you know. I mean, the one that your friend told me about. The one with none of you around, I hope” Cordelia stood up. The glass in her hand spilled its last drops of sticky Pepsi on Xander’s pants. “Oops, sorry Xander. It’s not that you’ll ever notice another stain, though.”

Her grin nearly blinded him. Something patted his jeans. Anya and a paper napkin. Anya’s hand cleaning his thighs like if he had been soaked in a Pepsi barrel. And in a place the drops hadn’t even touched him. Xander gaped at her while his body, always with a mind of its own, decided it liked the rubbing. Anya’s smile was so near… Since when did he like…? He leant forward and kissed her.

“It’s not that I’m surprised.” Cordelia asked for another Pepsi. “I mean, she has always been an odd creature. All those strange things mixed with an incredible lack of style could drive anybody mad.”

Oz just nodded, his attention focused on the excellent view he had from the mirror which was behind the bar counter. A girl with pink hair was standing behind him. A big bubble gum nearly hid her face, turning her into a pink balloon. Behind her, to the left, a tall guy with a flowered shirt was trying to convince Faith about the benefits of dancing with him. The Slayer had kneed something precious, apparently ‘cause the boy’s face was twisted in pain. Faith stepped closer.

“And that Watcher of hers! How could anybody stand his boring chat without losing their mind? It’s his fault, I think.” Cordelia couldn’t stop talking. She was really enjoying pestering freely about her annoying so-called friends. “Two Slayers and they both went nuts. Thanks God they are both out of the way now.”

“Yes! And Buffy…” Oz agreed turning round a little. He didn’t want Faith to know he’d seen her. “She deserves it. Hope they keep her in that English cell forever. She killed Willow…”

“Oh, that little witch!” Cordelia winced when Oz’s boot stomped on her shoe. “Maybe she’s still alive. Or doing some hocus-pocus in some basement. And that’s Buffy’s fault as well. Had driven everybody around completely loony. You know about the Napoleon tale, don’t you? Well, if you put a madman and a psychologist…” She began to swim against the queue of people, heading for the couch. “Oh, my! Xander!” She yelled with disgust.

Xander quickly jumped backwards, wiping his mouth with the back of his palm. His hair was dishevelled as he had faced a tornado. “So… what happened?”


Faith went to the back of the club feeling waves of pure pleasure tingling her blood. As she dialled the phone number, images of a hot and nearly healed vampire waiting for her in a room assaulted her mind. “She’s out of our way.” Six words that tasted like nectar in her mouth. Whistling a tune, she left the Bronze with a huge smile dancing on her lips.

tbc...
 
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