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Four
 
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Chapter Four


Spike was rolling through the mansion’s main room, searching for any left-over bodies that he might be able to reach and drain of any remaining blood when his sire came dashing in, laughing and smiling with delight.

“My darling William,” she said, kissing him lightly before dancing out of his reach once again. “You will never guess what Daddy has done. He has brought us a present to play with.”

Spike glanced toward the entrance in time to see a tall, elegant-looking man enter the mansion fearlessly, Angelus following closely behind him. He gave an unconscious gasp as the smell of Slayer blood assaulted his nostrils and his starving body reacted to it. The smell of magic was also strong in the air and Spike eyed the smiling man with suspicion. Angelus strode into the room and unceremoniously dumped the still-immobile Buffy to the floor in front of Spike’s wheelchair.

He laughed cruelly at the naked hunger in the younger vampire’s eyes as they focused on the inert Slayer and the blood tricking from the cut on her neck. Spike was leaning so far forward that he was in danger of falling out of his chair as his demon strained toward the hot elixir only feet away from his watering mouth. Angelus laughed again, shoving Spike’s chair just out of reach of the Slayer and her bleeding neck.

“I get to play first,” he growled. “Then Dru. I’ll let you know when it’s your turn. You will just have to wait; but then, that’s all you CAN do, isn’t it, Spike?” he added with a laugh. “Wait – wait for Dru to feed you, wait for someone to dress you, wait for…wait, wait, wait.”

Spike snarled, lunging uselessly at the older vamp who stayed just out of reach. Spike was so angry, it was several seconds before he thought to wonder who the human man was and why he seemed so unafraid of the two Three! There are three! deadly vampires in the room.

To Spike’s amazement, Ethan chided the older vamp, saying, “You need to save your creativity until we have the camera ready, Angleus. I don’t want Ripper to miss one scream or one drop of blood that leaves her body.”

Spike stared back and forth between the human man and his family; he could still smell the magic in the room and realized that the seemingly uninjured Slayer must be under a spell to keep her so still. His gaze accidentally met hers when he looked down and he flinched at the venom he saw there. He watched curiously as her expressive green eyes reflected hate, horror, fear, anger, defiance and a trace of sadness all at the same time.

Much to his chagrin, he found himself staring at the girl who had thwarted him at almost every turn and wishing he could do something to change the fate he knew only too well awaited her. He found the idea that Angelus was going to torture and kill the vibrant, smart-mouthed girl who’d stood against him since his arrival in Sunnydale surprisingly repellent.

Spike wanted her dead, but it wasn’t personal; she was a Slayer, he was a vampire, and this opposition was the fate they shared. She would kill him, or he would kill her-- but after a fair fight between warriors. He bore her surprisingly little animosity, considering the fact that she was responsible for his current helpless situation. If anything, he admired her creativity in the face of his and Drusilla’s possible escape. He resented the hell out of the outcome of her actions, but he knew that he would have done the same thing himself if their positions had been reversed.

He knew by an hundred years of history and the smell of black magics that there was nothing fair about the way Anglelus had captured the Slayer, any more than the older vampire’s interest in her was impersonal. If he’d seen nothing else over the past month, he’d seen how enraged the demon was to think he’d been forced to love and protect the small blond currently immobilized on the floor. Angelus was determined to make her pay for causing his souled alter-ego to fall in love with her.

“Had to bring in a sorcerer to help you, Angelus? “ He couldn’t resist the dig at the older vampire.

“You couldn’t handle this slayer,” his grandsire sneered. “It took a real demon to take her down.”

He watched from his chair as the other vamp strutted around the room, describing how he had used Drusilla and a small child to distract the Slayer so that the sorcerer could catch her by surprise when she had her hands full.

“So, you had to sneak up behind her and cheat to beat her. Is that what you’re sayin’, Angelus?” Spike put as much contempt into his voice as he could. “Not enough balls to take her on?”

He could see anger beginning to darken the other vampire’s face, but he couldn’t control his mouth. He sneered in contempt when he spoke again. “At least I wasn’t afraid to face her – vamp to Slayer. Didn’t have to hide behind the skirts of a woman and a baby—“

Angelus approached rapidly and backhanded the smaller vamp out of his wheelchair, leaving Spike on the floor only inches away from Buffy’s bleeding throat.

“You couldn’t beat her even with the Order of Taraka’s help, so just keep your pueling mouth shut, boyo.” After planting a heavy foot in Spike’s side and smiling at the sound of cracking ribs, Angelus left the room muttering, “Just let me get my stuff and I’ll show you how to handle a Slayer. Maybe I’ll just leave you down there on the floor where you’ll get a good view.”

Angelus went off with Ethan to find the video camera that Spike had used to study Buffy’s fighting technique, leaving his grandchilde on the floor, one hand on his broken ribs and his face still inches from the Slayer blood oozing from Buffy’s neck. The crippled vampire watched her lashes fluttering as she struggled to regain the ability to move and his eyes bored into hers, silently willing her to remain still.

Spike waited for Drusilla to come and help him back up, but instead she trailed Angelus out of the room, wheedling with him to leave the nasty slayer and play with her. He ground his teeth, knowing only too well what she meant by “play with her”. He closed his eyes tightly for a second, then opened them to find the dazed green gaze of the Slayer upon him. She was apparently regaining some control over her body; he watched as she swallowed hard and licked her dry lips as she tried to speak.

“Hello, cutie,” he hissed through his clenched teeth. “Welcome to my world.”

“Sp…Spike?” the weakened tone in which she spoke her whispered question told him she was still not recovered enough to get away; nevertheless, he whispered back, "Now might be a good time to run, Slayer.”

When her eyes rolled up and she tried without success to make a face, he growled softly in frustration. The scent of her blood, still oozing from the deep wound on her neck, was making his fangs itch and without thinking about what he was doing, he leaned forward and licked it clean, closing the wound as he did so. The elixir that was Slayer blood went through his starving system instantly, giving him a burst of energy that caught him completely by surprise.

With a gasp, he realized that draining the Slayer might very well be all it would take to restore his legs and allow him to stand up to his overbearing and sadistic grandsire. He used his arms to pull the still immobile girl closer to him, and slid into his vampire face; the scent of her blood was making his mouth water and he growled softly as he went to sink his fangs into her neck.

Her resigned sigh spoke straight to the guilt he found himself feeling at the thought of feeding off his most respected opponent while she was unable to defend herself and he stopped before he pierced her skin.

“I’m sorry, pet,” he surprised himself by saying. “But I need this more than you do right now. And if I save you from what Angelus and Dru have planned, you’ll be thanking me from up there in Heaven.”

“Right,” she gasped sarcastically, “So you’re just doing this to help me.”

He grinned appreciatively at her ability to quip in the face of imminent death and for a second he seriously considered not draining her until he could defeat her properly in battle. A renewed reminder of their situations-- her inability to do more than try to roll away from him, and his own sudden fear that he wouldn’t be able to reach her if she did--sent that thought away instantly.

His body was screaming for more of the blood he had just tasted; with an apologetic shrug, he buried his teeth in her throat and began pulling the hot, powerful blood into his mouth. He had only taken a few swallows when he felt himself yanked backwards, his fangs leaving gaping wounds in the Slayer’s neck where they tore the flesh.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, boy?” Angelus’ enraged roar was worth the pain of being flung away from the Slayer’s body, Spike thought; as useless as he’d felt, it was nice to know his actions could still have some sort of impact. “I don’t want her dead yet. If you’ve…” He stopped ranting when the sound of her heartbeat told him that the Slayer was still alive. With a snarl and another well-placed kick to Spike’s side, he stepped past his grandchilde and pulled the Slayer far enough away that Spike would be unable to drag himself to her without grinding his broken ribs together.

“Hello, lover,” he crooned to her. “You didn’t think I’d forgotten about you, did you?”

Fear and defiance fought each other to a standstill in Buffy’s eyes as she glared at Angelus helplessly. From the corner of his eye, Spike could see her fist clench behind her back and silently cheered her for not letting Angelus know she was gradually regaining her ability to move.

Angelus ran his hand down her body, pausing to cup her mound and chuckle at the horrified widening of her eyes. Blood rushed to her face, and she blushed with embarrassment as the vampire continued to fondle her virginal body in way he had never allowed himself to do while he had his soul.

Buffy fought the shudders that threatened to go through her body, forcing herself to lie still and pretend she was incapable of reacting to the rude invasion of her personal space. To her relief, Drusilla came back into the room, scolding Angelus for starting to play without her and telling him that Ethan needed him in the library.

With a final squeeze, Angelus reluctantly stood up and left the room, convinced that Buffy was still immobilized by the sorcerer’s magic. As soon as he was out of sight, the Slayer began to tremble all over, her face crumpling in the face of the humiliating treatment and the fact that it had taken place in front of her old enemy. When she dared to look at Spike, she found that he had rolled to his side and was clutching his ribs as he looked at her with an expression of genuine sympathy.

Fully expecting him to verbally assault her the way her former boyfriend had just done physically, she was astonished to hear him say, “Don’t let him see you cry, luv. It will only make him worse.”

She frowned at him with confusion, then began testing her arms and legs, trying desperately to get enough feeling back to be able to leave before Angelus came back into the room. After painful minutes, she gave up, dropping her head in exhaustion. Although the spell was obviously wearing off, it was nowhere near enough for her to be able to run or fight. At best, she could move her head slightly and clench her fists.

“Shake it off, Slayer!” Spike’s anxious voice broke into her tired mind and she turned her head to meet his eyes across the floor.

“I can’t,” she said dully. “I tried. It hasn’t worn off yet.”

“Try harder! They’re comin’ back. You need to try again – you need to—“

He broke off as Ethan strode into the room holding a video camera, closely followed by Angelus and Drusilla. The big vampire grabbed the Slayer by her hair and dragged her into the center of the room, smiling to himself at the tears that involuntarily spurted from her eyes when her hair was used as a handle.

When they had positioned her in the middle of the room just the way they wanted her, and the sorcerer had given them the nod, the two vampires began to systematically remove the girl’s clothing – using their claws and teeth to rip it from her body as she bit her lip and tried not to acknowledge them or the damage they were doing to the flesh under the clothing.

When Angelus fastened his mouth around one breast and sank his fangs through the soft skin there, Buffy couldn’t prevent the smothered scream that escaped her throat nor the involuntary flinch away from him. Her eyes squeezed shut at the physical and emotional pain that was wracking her young body and she began to wish that Spike had drained her when he had the chance.

At least his bite didn’t hurt very much, she thought resentfully. Not until Angel yanked him off, anyway.

Ethan stood with the camera, encouraging their activities and laughing when they had the embarrassed girl naked. He walked around with the camera, being sure to get close-ups of the bloodiest wounds and keeping up a running commentary the whole time.

“It appears your Slayer might be in a bit of difficulty, Ripper. Since you don’t know where she is and cannot help her, I thought I would be kind enough to film it for you so that you do not miss a thing. How long do you think it is going to take her to die, eh, Rupert? Angelus assures me he can drag this out for weeks, if necessary. I suppose that means we will have to purchase more video tape if we are going to keep you apprised of her condition.”

He moved the camera slightly and caught Spike trying to painfully pull himself into his wheelchair without tipping it over.

“Oh, here. Perhaps you will enjoy this too. William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers, reduced to begging for blood from his sire and confined to a wheelchair with a broken back. A confinement for which your Slayer is responsible. How well do you think she will fare if Angelus and Drusilla decide to turn her over to William when they have tired of her? Hmmm?”

Only Buffy suspected that Spike’s answering snarl was aimed at Ethan and his words moreso than at the thought of being given Buffy’s broken body when Angelus was through with her. Through her pain, she laughed silently at the thought that in her current situation, William the Bloody was the closest thing she had to a sympathetic onlooker.

When Ethan felt that he had enough of her torment on tape to send Giles into a guilty frenzy, he insisted that Angelus and Drusilla quit anything that could potentially cause the Slayer’s death from either blood loss or shock, and allow him to get the tape delivered immediately. He promised the pouting Drusilla that she could “play” some more after he knew that Buffy’s watcher had seen the first tape.

With a snarl of reluctance, Angelus yanked Buffy over toward a set of manacles that were bolted to the wall and carelessly fastened one around her wrist.

“That should hold you if the spell wears off,” he laughed, slapping her on her bare ass as he stood up.

The two vampires left the room, retiring to their bedroom for a round of noisy sex while Ethan left to go find someone to deliver the tape for him. Buffy eyed Spike carefully, wondering whether he would to try to drain her again now that they could clearly hear how busy Angelus and Drusilla were at the other end of the big house. The devastated look on his face as he sat, trapped in his chair, and listened to the love of his life as she screamed her “daddy’s” name in ecstasy told the Slayer that she was the last thing on his mind at that time.

The pang of sympathy she felt for the vampire who had tried to kill her so often and so recently surprised her.

It’s not like I don’t know how it feels to have somebody you love boinking somebody else practically in front of you. she admitted to herself. She knew that had Angelus not spent so much of the evening trying to humiliate and torture her, the sounds coming from the back of the building would be tearing her heart out. As it was, she was simply grateful that Drusilla was keeping the demon that wore the face of her first love too busy to remember the naked slayer in the main room.

She cautiously tried moving her body, finding that, while it hurt terribly to bend her limbs – covered as they were with bleeding wounds – she COULD bend them. She was weak from the loss of blood and the remaining effects of the spell, but at least she was no longer completely immobile and unable to defend herself.

If that demon or his whore put their hands on me again, I swear I will break them off at the wrists, even if it’s the last thing I do.

Buffy had been so wrapped up in her thoughts about what she would do if Angelus came back and attempted to touch her again, that she had failed to notice Spike’s departure from the room. Only the sound of his wheelchair on the stones brought her attention back to the vampire and she gave a start when she realized he was rolling straight towards her. In his lap were a pitcher of water and a bag of cookies.

“Can you move yet?” he asked abruptly, holding the cookies out to her.

She nodded silently, taking the bag and staring at him with suspicion.

“Quit lookin’ at me like I’ve got three heads,” he grumbled, passing her the water. “How the hell are you going to dust that wanker if you don’t keep your strength up?”

Buffy upended the pitcher of water and drank almost half of it before setting it down to get into the bag of cookies.

“What kind of vampires keep Chips Ahoys in their kitchen?” she mumbled around a mouthful of stale cookies.

“They’re mine,” he said sheepishly. “Dru got them for me before she became so besotted with the great poof that she forgot to feed me at all.”

“You eat chocolate chip cookies,” she said with a trace disbelief in her voice.

“I like chocolate,” he answered defensively. “Jus’ can’t live on it, is all.”

Something about the way he said it reminded Buffy of his remark about Dru not feeding him at all, and she took her first good look at him since she’d been carried into the mansion. Spike had always been lean, but she’d always suspected that there was a solid covering of flesh and muscle over his bones; her fights with him had given her a pretty good idea of what that body looked and felt like.

Now, the formerly handsome vampire was thin and wasted-looking.; his eyes were sunken and dark-rimmed, his prominent cheekbones jutted out more than ever before, and his upper body – clearly visible in the black tee shirt he wore – was all bones and pale skin. She gasped and looked up at his face in shock, only to find him staring at her own body, his eyes flashing amber.

She suddenly remembered the way he’d bitten her throat when she first came in--and his whispered, “I need it more than you do.”

Shrinking away from him in sudden fear, she almost knocked over the water pitcher, only to see the vampire save it at the last second. His hiss of pain, and the way he grabbed his side indicated that the damage inflicted earlier by Angelus’ foot had not begun to heal.

Trembling with the danger she knew she was inviting, she tentatively extended one badly-gashed and still-bleeding leg, offering, “I seem to be wasting a lot of blood on stones that don’t need or want it. Maybe…maybe you’d like to --?”

Before she had finished, he had her foot in one hand and was running his tongue all over her lower leg, carefully lapping up every drop of blood and then gently laving the wound until it stopped bleeding and began to close. Buffy closed her eyes so as not to see the vampire as he fed on her. When he moved up her leg to the cuts on her thigh, her eyes flew open again and she flinched, remembering her nudity. The angle at which Spike was holding her leg left her open to his gaze and she blushed, struggling to keep her thighs together; he sent her a quick, amused glance, then went back to what he was doing. When he’d finished cleaning the wounds on that thigh, he pulled the other leg into his lap and began, matter-of-factly, to cleanse the deep gouges and cuts there.

When he reached a particularly nasty cut just over her femoral artery, she gasped at the sensation in her lower abdomen as the vampire’s tongue slid over the skin at the top of her thigh. Spike could see and feel the blood pulsing through the vein so near his mouth, and he stopped for a few seconds and visibly fought down the demon’s desire to bury his fangs. Buffy froze, instinctively aware of what was happening, and struggled feebly to pull her legs away, succeeding only in exposing more of her private parts as he held her fast.

Oh my god. He’s getting stronger. Just that little amount of blood is making him stronger already.

She began to worry that she had made a very big mistake and unconsciously tensed, preparatory to pushing him away. Before she could move, his eyes went back to their normal bright blue and he shrugged apologetically, saying quietly, “Sorry, luv. Just had a moment there. It’s alright now.”

“You scared me,” she admitted softly.

“Scared me, too, pet,” he snarked. “I’m countin’ on you to get us out of here and send that bog-trotting bastard to hell where he belongs. Wouldn’t do for me to kill you before that happens, would it?”

“So, we have what? A truce until we get out of here? What about your crazy ho-bag of a girlfriend?”

His eyes flashed amber again and she flinched when he snarled, “Watch your mouth, missy.”

Leaving the incongruity of this feared vampire’s ability to control his demon in the face of starvation -- as well as his obvious love for his unfaithful consort -- for another time, the Slayer silently held out her unshackled arm. Instead of taking it, Spike pulled her further up into his lap and began licking all the bleeding cuts on her chest and belly. Buffy was beyond embarrassed by the places his tongue was going, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to pretend she couldn’t feel its moist roughness as it cleaned and closed dozens of small wounds,

When he got to her right breast, where Angelus had sunk his fangs around the nipple and nearly severed it, she flinched and gave an involuntary moan. To her amazement, Spike stopped immediately and apologized.

“I’m sorry, luv. I know that probably stings a bit, but if you let me close it, it won’t hurt as much and it will heal faster. Your ex went pretty deep here and you don’t want to be letting those puncture wounds scab over until they’re clean inside.”

Still not opening her eyes, Buffy gritted her teeth and nodded permission, fighting down the urge to scream when his tongue entered the largest puncture. Noticing her pain, Spike fastened his mouth over the entire bite--covering not just all four fang marks, but her nipple as well --and began to suck gently.

As he gradually pulled the blood from the wound, the sensation changed from pain to something Buffy couldn’t identify. She lay still, trembling slightly while the vampire suckled on her breast and ran his tongue over the nipple. Eventually, she realized that he was not pulling any more blood from it, and she opened her eyes to glare at him as best she could; embarrassed that, if she was honest with herself, she would have to admit whatever he was doing, it felt pretty good.

“Wha—what are you doing?” she managed to croak out.

The sound of her voice snapped the vampire out of the lust-filled daze the combination of her blood and the pert breast from which he was pulling it had inspired; he startled, releasing her nipple with a soft popping sound. For long seconds they stared into each other’s eyes, each wondering if they had done something that would cause the other to end the truce.

“Nothing,” he said, finally. “Just got a little carried away. Didn’t mean anything by it, Slayer.”

“May—maybe you’d better put me down now,” she whispered, disgusted with herself when she realized she really didn’t want to be back on the cold, hard floor.

“Good idea,” he agreed, reluctantly sliding her body off his legs until she could lower herself to the floor on shaking arms. He examined her closed wounds for a second, then gestured to the arm he hadn’t touched. “Might be a good idea, pet, to spread some of that blood around on the other bites. Just in case anybody looks close enough to see that you aren’t bleedin’ anymore.”

Buffy nodded, quickly using her hands to spread the rapidly coagulating blood from her arm onto her legs and torso to hide the already healing wounds there.

Spike picked up the water pitcher and held it out, waiting until she had drained it to take it back and begin to leave the room.

“Get some kip, Slayer,” he said, not unkindly. “You could have another long night ahead of you tomorrow.

Buffy shuddered at his advice, wondering what else the two vampires could do to her—and just how badly the sorcerer wanted to keep her alive. She curled up on the cold floor and, trying to hide her naked body as best she could, fell into a restless sleep.



 
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