Faith stumbled along the road; trying to find her way to
the mansion where she had last heard Buffy was staying.
That was all she heard before passing out again, the pain
in her side – bruised and broken ribs – combined with the pain in her leg
– her left one was badly damaged from the last fight she was in – all
combined with her gnawing hunger to make her dizzy and occasionally delusional.
All she knew was Buffy, mansion, outskirts of LA. She
couldn’t even remember where she had heard this information, but that was
where she was currently headed. She had no idea what had happened these last
weeks, no idea why Buffy was even in this house and not in Sunnydale protecting
the Hellmouth. Had she had to retreat? Or had they won and she was advancing?
No idea that she was about to walk into her worst
nightmare.
The lights from the manor ahead blazed brightly in the
black sky, eclipsing even the stars as they shone down on her. She breathed a
strained sigh of relief as she spotted the long winding driveway but collapsed
in front of the closed and locked wrought iron gate. With the last of her waning
strength – and she was annoyed with herself for beginning so much like a
measly human – she passed through the magickal barrier and pressed the
intercom button.
Faith didn’t realize that she was also on candid camera
and that as soon as the intercom sounded several curious members of the
household wandered into the former dining room to see who had arrived.
Giles started to laugh as he saw the bedraggled woman, and
the sound was not a pleasant one. “I thought she was dead. When was the last
time anyone heard from her?” It was a somewhat rhetorical question – no one
really cared.
Curious, Spike wandered closer and joined in. Willow looked
to see what was going on and couldn’t stop the growl that escaped her lips.
Faith was not her favorite person.
Angelus and Buffy arrived last, and when they saw who it
was laying in the middle of their entrance, a wicked gleam shone in their eyes.
Licking her lips, Buffy smiled at her lover, her thoughts showing clearly on her
lovely face. Angelus smiled back, agreeing to her unspoken words.
At Giles’ question, the group shrugged, clearly not
caring when it was, only that there was another person from their past. Another
person to torture and maim and eventually kill. As if suddenly remembering that
there were others in the room that held a grudge against Faith, Buffy turned to
her best friend.
“I want her, Will.” The feral gleam in her eye told the
group all they needed to know. Buffy had never forgiven the other slayer for the
things she had done, starting from betraying them all, to poisoning Angel, to
switching bodies with her.
Willow pouted, “Buffy…” At her friend’s look, she
acquiesced. “Okay, but can I watch? And maybe help a bit? Oh, and I want a
taste; I’ve never had slayer blood.” Well, not live slayer blood at least.
Buffy nodded, “Of course.” Glancing at Angelus she
added, “I hear there’s nothing quite like it.” Turning to Giles, she
asked, “Giles?”
The newly turned vampire shrugged. “I don’t care what
you do with her, but I’m with Willow…I want to help. She’s a bitch, and we
all have something against her, but I think you’re right…she’s done some
of the worst things imaginable to you, Buffy, she’s all yours.”
Spike didn’t care; he’d met the bint once or twice, and
that was after her ‘I’m all evil’ stage. Still, he didn’t care for her.
Although the idea of torture did turn him on and he knew for a fact that Willow
got off on it…could have possibilities.
~~~~~~~
Blissfully unaware that her torture and eventual death were
being bartered within the stonewalls, Faith pressed the button again and hoped
that someone inside was either familiar and would help or was a good samaritan
and would help. Either way she needed help, and prayed to whatever god listened
to redeeming slayers that she would get some, soon.
She had lost consciousness by the time the group sauntered
slowly down the driveway. It was just as well, for her at least, as they all had
a wild animalistic look in their eyes that would have given them away in a
moment.
That and since they were all vampires now, her slayer sense
would have been going wild.
Angelus looked down at the girl his alter ego had once
promised to help and laughed. Scooping her in his arms, throwing her over his
shoulder like a sack of wheat; he ignored the faint moan of discomfort coming
from the slayer and carried her up the drive, his hand entwining itself with his
mate’s.
Faith came around slowly to the softness of a hand gently
cleaning her myriad wounds. It felt nice, this ministration of love and care.
Softness greeted her back, the thick down of a plush duvet and Faith sighed,
snuggling deeper into the warmth and comfort. Someone held a glass of liquid to
her mouth and she drank greedily, letting the cool water slid down.
Wherever she was, whoever was caring for her, she had no
desire to ever leave. She figured she wasn’t in heaven for a number of
reasons. One, everything still hurt; in heaven the pain would be gone, right?
Two, she wasn’t entirely sure that she had earned enough redemption to ever
make it to the peace and rest that was the promise of heaven in just about every
culture.
Three, she heard familiar voices in the background and
since she was fairly certain that the voices belonged to friends, she must have
reached her destination…wherever that had been. She had been searching for
them, after her run in with minions of Wolfram & Hart, trying to warn them
about…something.
Vaguely she wished that she could remember what that was, but she was so tired;
down to her bones, her soul was weary, everything hurt and so she relaxed,
listening to the soft voices above her that told her to sleep, that she needed
to rest. She believed them, and let her mind shut down, slipping back into
blissful unconsciousness.
And never realized that she was chained to the bed she had
been so comforted by, that her rescuers were her oldest and only friends and
that they were only keeping her alive, only making her well again so that they
were the ones to have the pleasure of destroying her.
When she awoke, three days later, she wished that she had
still been unaware.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Angelus let his mouth trail across Buffy’s stomach,
tongue lapping at her naval, swirling around it before continuing his journey
down her body. Soft purring escaped her lips as his tongue found her throbbing
clit and teased the hardened nub.
Her hands were loosely tied to the bedposts with silk
scarves – they were trying something new that didn’t involve chains and an
exercise in self restraint…when it came to this at least. And she whimpered as
he continued down her luscious body, not giving her the release her body craved,
though she didn’t break the bindings.
Legs that had been left unbound wrapped around him, urging
him back to her wet core with a cry of need. Refusing to be dissuaded from his
journey, Angelus growled low in his throat and clasped her thighs, pushing them
firmly away from him.
Taking one slender foot in his large hands, he leaned back
and played his mouth over the arch, running blunt teeth over the sole eliciting
a gasp partway between laughter and need. Moving back up, he held her right
thigh tight against the bed as he sucked the pulse point there. The fingers of
his other hand found her arching core and plunged inside, growling when her
inner walls clamped around them.
Gasping in need, Buffy pressed her thigh closer to
Angelus’ mouth, begging him without words to bite her, to draw her blood into
him, to share what they were. Smiling against her skin, he vamped out and
slowly, almost softly, sank his teeth into her sweet flesh. Her legs clamped
around his head, holding him close though he had no intension of ever moving.
With an inarticulate shout she came, bowing up from the
bed, grinding herself against Angelus’ hand as she pressed her thigh even
closer to his wonderful mouth. Long minutes later she returned to earth, still
tied to the bed, Angelus now lapping at the rapidly closing wounds on her thigh.
Purring in pleasure and desire, Buffy urged him higher, and
he complied, knowing what she wanted…it was the same thing he wanted.
Positioning himself at her entrance, Angelus leaned foreword to kiss her, her
blood still in his mouth. With one sure thrust, he entered her, pausing a moment
in pure enjoyment as she clamped around him.
Moving one hand to untie her, allowing her soft hands to
touch him, Angelus continued to thrust inside of her welcoming wetness. Her
nails dug into his back, her legs wrapped around his slender hips, and she
picked up the pace of their mating.
“Buffy!” Her name echoed around the room as Angelus
felt his release thunder through him. This was why, in the weeks since her
turning, he had never so much as thought about looking at another woman. Buffy
satisfied him completely, every fantasy he’d ever had, every passion, every
desire he could name and most he couldn’t.
Their passion was never ending and was going to destroy the
world. Yes, he thought as he collapsed into her waiting arms, the world would
burn from their passion.
***********
Confused at the shouted name, Angelus struggled awake, looking around, trying to ascertain if she had somehow escaped her bonds and was now attacking them. He hadn’t sensed an attack, highly doubted that the slayer could escape her bonds let alone expect to win against them, but that didn’t mean…seeing nothing but the darkness of their room, he finally asked, “What about her?”
They were lying in bed, heavy curtains drawn against the midday sun, a thick
duvet covering them. Angelus didn’t remember falling asleep; the last thing he
did remember was rolling Buffy into his arms, still intimately entwined. Since
they were still in that position, he assumed that they had fallen asleep shortly
afterwards.
It took Angelus a moment to realize that Buffy hadn’t
spoken the other slayer’s name, or, more importantly, hadn’t consciously
spoken it. Buffy was still asleep, in the midst of a nightmare, one that
obviously involved Faith.
Once he came fully awake, he also noticed that her grip on
him was a crushing one. Angelus knew that Buffy held no love for the slayer,
even after she accepted her back into their group; though that could have been
more because they needed all the warriors they could get rather than out of any
sense of forgiveness.
“Buffy, darling, wake up.”
No response. She continued to thrash on Angelus’ chest, dislodging him from
inside her as she rolled onto the bed. Now she was mumbling something about
Angel and Faith. Seeing no help for it, knowing that he was about to get
injured, Angelus clasped his hands around her wrists, holding her body down with
his and tried again.
It took several moments to wake her, and when he finally
succeeded, she did so with a violent start. Confused, she looked at him for a
minute, trying to figure out where she was in relation to her dream.
“Angelus!” She wrapped her arms tightly around him,
holding him close, not noticing the rivulet of blood that tracked down his face
from her nails. They were sitting up in bed, Angelus leaning against the
headboard and Buffy straddling his hips, her face buried in the crock of his
neck.
If anyone had seen them together they would not have
believed that two of the most vicious creatures alive (or undead, whatever) were
cuddled into each other. Or that one of them was crying. Angelus’ hands roamed
over her soft flesh in soothing circles and he whispered softly as he tried to
calm her.
Buffy cried quietly into his chest, wrapping herself
tighter around him, unwilling to let him go for fear of losing him again. It was
her only fear, the one thing left in her non-existent soul and in this new life
that she couldn’t possibly handle: Angelus leaving her. Not out of some
misguided sense of honor, no, she knew better than that, but of him being
forcibly – for that was the only way either of them were leaving again –
taken away from her. Finally her sobs quieted and she loosened her grip, but
only slightly.
“Want to tell me about it?” He asked in the same soft
tone that he had only with her. They never talked about the gentleness that
sometimes overtook them, simply went with it, knowing that it was one more way
for them to be together. And that was what was important.
“She tried to kill you again. Tried to poison you, stake
you, kill you and I couldn’t save you.” Though the sobs had quieted, the
memory was still vivid and she refused to let him go.
“Buffy, look at me,” Angelus waited until she lifted her eyes, eyes that showed fear for the first time since he found her in Belinda’s shack of a lair. “Baby, she can’t hurt us any more. You saw her, she’s hurt and disoriented and certainly isn’t in any position to do either of us any harm.”
His hands still stroked her flesh softly, lovingly, and he pressed gentle kisses
to her forehead, eyelids, cheekbones and finally her lips. “We’ll take care
of her, I promise. We’ll make her pay for everything she’s ever done to
anyone. To you, to me, to Willow and Giles. I promise.”
“I know,” She said on a sigh, but she was still cold.
Not in the undead cool flesh way, but bone deep cold where only Angelus could
warm her. “But it seemed so real, I just…I can’t lose you again.”
“You never will, love, I promise. We’re joined, bound,
remember? Nothing can separate us, not even death.” He pressed his lips to
hers again, watching her eyes as the emotions in them went from fear to
acceptance of his promise, to cloudy with desire. “Let me warm you, love, let
me make you forget everything, Faith, the past, everything but me.”
How had he known that she was so cold? Just one more thing
Buffy loved about him, how he always knew what she needed without words. “I
love you, Angelus,” She said the words that had never really been spoken
between them as his mouth worshipped her body, every curve and valley, every
angle, every inch of skin.
“And I love you, my heart.”
It was the first time he had ever said the words aloud, though Buffy had always
known. Still, hearing them shot a wave of heat through her that went a long way
towards warming her. Angelus’ mouth and hands, and teeth and tongue did the
rest.
~~~~~~~~
Long, long hours later, they finally made their way to
kitchen. While it was true that vampires didn’t eat in the normal human sense,
that didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy food. And Spike had decided that the
kitchen needed restocking. Of course it also needed a good cleaning, but he
wasn’t going to do that; though he’d make minions to do it.
By the time Buffy and Angelus joined them, they had a wide
variety of foods piled on the long kitchen island. Willow and Giles were
sampling the various delicates, comparing remembered tastes with new textures.
Joining the group, but forgoing food in favor of the opened bottle of red wine,
Buffy looked at them.
“If you want Faith, I’ll share her.” She said it to no one in particular, but all three stared at her in shock.
”What made you change your mind, Buffy?” Giles asked, though he had a pretty
good idea.
Shrugging, she looked at her mentor. Better than anyone he
knew what she had gone through with Faith and what her death would mean to her.
But in the long hours Angelus had shown her his love and devotion, worshiping
her body with hands and mouth and teeth and words, she had realized something
else.
That Faith’s death, while eminently pleasurable,
couldn’t change the basic facts of her life: Buffy had what she always wanted,
and very soon she’d have Cordelia to play with. It was terribly unfair of her
to hog all their family just for her own sadistic fun. Not that it wouldn’t be
fun, but she was willing to share.
“Just sharing, that’s all. I figured that you had
issues with Faith as well that you may like to work through with her. I’m not
saying,” She hastened to add, “That I won’t participate in
her…reeducation, I just believe in sharing the fun. Well, in this particular
case.”
“Would you like to kill her or change her? I’m sure
she’d make for a vicious vampire. We could keep her as a minion, certainly not
a favored childe.” Giles said, pouring more wine for himself as well.
It was interesting, this change in his taste buds.
Naturally he assumed that dead taste buds couldn’t actually taste anything. He
was wrong, the flavor was there, just changed, enhanced in ways he had never
before imagined. He could identify the texture and so many more of the
ingredients that went into certain foods. It was fascinating.
Buffy shrugged, but the glint in her eye said that she
hadn’t thought of that one before. The slow cruel smile that spread over her
features made Angelus want to gather her back into his arms and take her away
from prying eyes. “That’s entirely up to you, but we do need someone to clean the place.”
Giles looked at Willow, silently asking her opinion. It was
so nice to have been a family before they were a family; made things like this
so much more interesting. Willow had a pretty good idea what he preferred.
Turning her, making her into a kind of slave...
Nodding, Willow agreed with Giles’ silent assessment.
“Perfect,” She said, smiling, then, turning back to Giles, “When do you
want to start?”
~~~~~~~~~
Rupert Giles wasn’t dead and Ripper hadn’t replaced
him. The two halves of his personality had always been there, battling for
domination with the ever changing rules of his world.
Ripper wasn’t the total man he had been back in his black
magick days, Rupert was still alive and well, just not overly concerned with the
way things were going. It wasn’t until his wake-up call that he tried to
repress everything that made him Ripper. When Buffy had turned him, that slice
that was all Watcher that was all Rupert, disappeared completely.
He was still as smart as ever, still as insightful and
inquisitive; those things certainly weren’t Rupert or Ripper, but the man that
housed both. No, the only true change was that there was no conscious, no right
or wrong vibe telling him that this was wrong, absolutely and utterly. He had
often ignored that little voice and now that it was gone, didn’t miss it at
all.
So as he sat in his room, waiting for Faith to awaken or
the sun to set or something equally useful, Giles paged through one of his vast
collection of books. There were two fledglings in the basements waiting to rise,
and Giles knew that more would be made tonight. The foot soldiers were the first
step in their plan.
He had two jobs since awakening; find the means to advance
their more long range plans, and discover any and all side effects,
complications, and or problems with a slayer being turned into a vampire.
So far as anyone knew this was the first recorded event of
such a turning and since it was the Slayer, one would think that if it happened
before then the Sire would have bragged about it until even the Watchers
Council, in all their pompous blindness, had heard of it. But there was nothing
in the journals, nothing in the texts and scrolls and tombs that lined the newly
revised library in the mansion in which they all lived.
The library door opened and Angelus walked in. “I have a
little task I’d like for you to perform, Giles,” he said.
Giles closed the book he was reading and looked at the
older vampire. He may have a deep-seated dislike of Angelus, but that didn’t
mean Giles disagreed with the plans he and Buffy had. In fact, he was looking
forward to it.
“Paul Stewart owns a club on Sunset. I’d like you and
Willow to check it out.”
************
Faith hadn’t reported anything in weeks and was also
presumed dead, though Cordelia had tried to contact her, too. There was
something still there, a pulse resonating through Cordelia whenever she sought
the second slayer’s soul. She was alive, but in what condition?
Dawn had always been nothing but static to her, that whole
Key thing wasn’t conducive to soul reading. Too much latent energy flowing
through the young woman, drowning everything else out.
When she had first realized her new powers, after her
return trip as a ‘higher being,’ (and what a joke that was) included
tracking and contacting a person via their soul Cordy had thought it useful,
handy, and extremely convenient. Now she was beginning to think that it only
added to her pain.
Most of her friends were dead. Or worse…turned. There was
no other explanation for it. And Cordelia, once May Queen, Homecoming hopeful,
‘Queen C’ of Sunnydale, promising actress, Vision Girl, friend to the
sweetest half demon and vampire with a soul, was out of options.
And scared out of her mind.
They were about to lose their war. There was no way they
could hope to win against the combined forces of Angelus and Buffy. Buffy was
the only one to ever defeat Angelus, well, except those gypsies, but Cordy
doubted their willingness to help this time. They just didn’t seem the type to
do something out of the kindness of their hearts. But she’d not rule it out
just yet.
If Buffy was indeed a vampire now and of course with
Angel…Angelus, then Giles was certainly with them as well. Xander, Willow, and
Spike were wild cards, though Cordelia suspected Angelus’ need for revenge on
his childe.
“Wesley, Gunn, Fred!” Cordelia shouted her remaining friends’ names as she strode across the field. It was freezing in Russia, whoever had said Russia in winter was beautiful had never had to fight in the damn country. Hitler, though the analogy was a poor one, would have understood her feelings.
Great, now she was losing her mind, comparing their (epic) good verses evil
battle with a crazy fanatic’s quest for world domination. Focus, Chase, focus!
They were waiting for her, knowing what she was going to
tell them, hoping they were wrong. The look on her face was not helpful.
“I can’t contact anyone. I think…” She couldn’t
finish the thought. It proved unnecessary; everyone gathered knew what had
happened.
Fred, who had never seen Angelus and had only seen Angel
with Buffy briefly that once before they split their army, asked, “Where do
you think Angel’s gone?” She couldn’t separate the friend she knew from
the demon.
Cordelia looked at the younger woman. She was still an
innocent in many things, despite all she had seen and done in the years since
her rescue from Pylea. Cordelia’s heart broke for that lost innocence and
remembered when her own naivety had been destroyed.
“To Sunnydale, of course. He’s gone to find Buffy.
Despite what happened…before, I think, now, that all he ever really wanted was
her. It was just the feelings she brought out in him that he tried to destroy.
He never could harm her.”
Fred still looked confused. She had only ever heard
stories, and those vague and second hand and full of the viciousness that was
Angelus. “Will he hurt her?”
Destroyed innocence… “I think she was already hurt by
the time he arrived, Fred.” Cordelia struggled to say more, but nothing else
was there.
Wesley took pity on his friend and tried to explain what he
could. Did confidences count when the person who confided them was gone with no
hope of returning?
“Fred, um, Angel’s…that is, Buffy…it’s suspected
that she was already killed. Angelus set out for revenge on whoever had killed
his mate. If that wasn’t the case, and Buffy had been turned instead, other
than it being the first known case of a slayer being turned, I’m sure that
they are still together and um…”
He looked helplessly at Cordelia. Angel had always been in
control of the demon since Fred’s arrival in their group. The only time he had
come close to losing that control was when Connor had been…taken and even that
was tamed compared to Angeles. But if someone had harmed Buffy in any way, if
someone else had had the audacity to turn his mate…things did not bode well
for that someone.
“The world as we know it is about to fall apart.” This
was from Gunn, though the words were Cordelia’s from so long ago.
Fred was still confused. Sure she had seen Angel angry,
depressed, livid, even. But she couldn’t imagine him as anything other than
her friend, the one who had rescued her from Pylea.
The three members of their group took pity on her, but
there was nothing they could say, it wasn’t something that could be understood
in the academic sense and the concrete proof would get them all killed.
“Right,” Cordelia said, taking charge. “We have two
choices, possibly three. We can stay here and continue our fight, though if
Angel and Buffy have indeed turned all dark side on us then we’re pretty much
going to lose. We can abandon it all and head to California to stop the soulless
duo and hope we don’t get ourselves killed, something in which I don’t have
a lot of faith…”
And the third option?” Gunn asked, but he suspected
the answer.
“We send someone there, scope out the situation and
hopefully live long enough to report back.”
Wesley sighed. “I don’t like any of those options,
frankly. But I think we should go with the last one.”
There was silent agreement all around. “Any
volunteers?”
“Before we decide,” Fred interrupted, “Shouldn’t we
tell Connor?” At everyone’s look, the one that said she was crazy and none
of them would be the ones to say the words, Fred continued. “He is Angel’s
son; doesn’t he have the right to know?”
Connor and Angel had formed a strong bond over the years of
fighting side by side, but if he was faced with the soulless creature he had
always believed his father to be…there was just no telling what the child
would do to the father.
Reluctantly Cordelia nodded. “Yes, he should know that
his father is dead and not coming back anytime soon.” Then, sighing at the
thought, “Should we draw straws or something?”
Wesley spoke up first, “I think you should do it,
Gunn.”
Shocked, the other man had thought Wes was going to
volunteer Cordelia, the man in question violently shook his head. “No way,
man, I’m not going to be the one to tell the kid something like THAT!”
“He’s closest to you, Gunn, all that bonding over
weapons and battle techniques. He trusts you far more than any of us.”
“And he really doesn’t like me.” Cordelia piped in,
her wistful expression quickly covered. She knew that Connor blamed her for the
distance between Angel and him, and Cordelia had tried to bridge the gap between
them, but there was always something blocking her way. She didn’t know if it
was the fact that she and Angel had been lovers for however brief a time, or
something else, but Connor had never really accepted her.
“I’ll do it.” Fred said her voice small and nervous.
She had been the first to make a connection with the displaced boy, having been
trapped in a different dimension for years herself. Still, that didn’t mean
that he was going to just accept what she told him.
“As soon as he returns form patrol, I’ll speak with
him.” She swallowed painfully. “Just hover in the background, please? Just
in case.”
**********
Lilah was in a fix, there was no doubt of that.
But that wasn't what fascinated her so. This wasn’t the
first ‘fix’ she found herself in and with any luck it wouldn’t be the
last. Her situation could be manipulated to her way; she was sure, given enough
time. It was the enough time part of the equation that was currently in
question.
But since there wasn’t anything she could do about that
just yet, she studied her surroundings, the people (vampires? Could she call
them people when they technically weren’t? Was there a proper term for this?)
she knew and the ones she had only read about. It was the couple in front of her
that gave her pause that intrigued her most. That made her wonder.
They were totally wrapped in each other. Not necessarily to
the exclusion of all else, but close. No, they were aware of their surroundings,
of Dawn’s every whimper, of Spike’s every snarky comment to both the tied
trio and the copulating couple, of Faith’s wide-eyed disbelief at the nasty
little turn her quite unlucky life had taken. It wasn’t that so much as the
air surrounding them, enveloping them.
It was wild and untamed, feral and fierce, a quality that
bespoke their duel natures. Vicious demons capable of the most unspeakable
horrors and gentle lovers, tender and caring.
Heathcliff and Cathy of Brontë’s classic love story.
Angelus was Heathcliff in a way; not as the starving child
from Liverpool who wanted the one thing he was told he could never have, no,
well, not really. Still there was some comparison there; Angel was the more
likely candidate for that part of the character, always wanting Buffy but never
allowed to keep her. Angelus seemed intent on making up for his souled half’s
misfortune. It was in his complete and absolute loyalty to Buffy that the
comparison was brought so stringently to the fore.
The wildness about him, the untamed quality that always
followed him even when he was Angel. And the utter devotion to Buffy, his Cathy,
the driving force that led him to first Sunnydale and then LA to seek his
redemption so that someday he might be worthy of her. (In his own mind at least,
out of the two whose opinions actually mattered, he seemed to have been the only
one to think he wasn’t ‘worthy’ of her.)
His malicious and cruel hatred against anything and
everyone who ever stood between he and his beloved.
And Buffy. As slayer she held in her passions, restrained herself because she feared that once she let go, that control would never return. Her temper was whip-quick and lethal, and she was never as civilized about things as she pretended; as she had the world believing. Her only true passions were Angel/Angelus and slaying. Only around Angelus did she show a softer side; well, that may have been relative in both cases, but there was a devotion there that couldn’t be denied.
Beautiful and heart wrenching and erotic and lethal. Their relationship
possessed all these qualities and more. An epic romance that defied the laws of
nature yet that stood before her in all its wonderful passion.
Despite her dire circumstances and the possibility that
she’d not make it out of here alive, Lilah found herself…jealous. What was
it like, she wondered as they sat in the huge chair adorning the center of the
room, to feel a passion, a love, a need that eclipsed all else?
~~~~~~~~
“Now tell me again; minions are vampires that drank too
little from their sire and as a consequence rise earlier than others?” Buffy
leaned back into his arms, her hands reaching behind her to caress his ever
present erection.
“What did you think they were?” The question was a
whisper, as he blew his unneeded breath softly against her ear, smiling at the
shiver that raced through her as her hand tightened on his aching cock.
“People too stupid in life to really make it as a
vampire. Sire’s that turned these too stupid people because they needed gofers
or followers to make them look strong.” She wondered if they could assuage
this unceasing need for each other (for the moment anyway) before they began on
their new guests.
“How many years were you the slayer and you never knew
the difference?” His voice was incredulous, yet his hands feather light as
they skimmed over her bare thighs, exposed by her short skirt. (He was truly
torn by her attire; he loved the sight of all that flesh that craved his touch
as surely as he craved to touch her. However he was insanely jealous of anyone
looking at that same flesh. A definite dilemma.) Closer, closer he traveled
until those clever hands touched just the outside of her swollen lips, teasing
her unbearably.
Sucking in her breath out of reflex, moving her hips closer
to those talented fingers of his, Buffy tried to concentrate on the
conversation. “It never came up and I never cared. I killed them all; it
really made no difference to me. Of course I knew the difference, but I didn’t
know the difference in turning them…Ah, yes, please, right there.”
She stifled a moan as his fingers plunged into her,
uncaring of the audience surrounding them. Growling low in the back of his
throat, Angelus moved his other hand to the snaps of his pants. Freeing his
cock, he lifted Buffy just high enough to thrust into her, biting the back of
her neck as he did so.
Moving her legs so that her shins lay against the cushion
of the chair, straddling his lap and leaning forward just enough to slam back
onto him, Buffy let her lover set the pace. It wasn’t slow by any means; they
had indulged their desire for the slowness of lovemaking most of the night
before. Tasting, teasing every inch of skin over and over until it was all
almost too much only to start everything all over again.
No, this was a quick fuck before they got down to work.
Minutes only had passed before Buffy felt her orgasm rip
through her, roaring loudly over the pounding in her blood even as Angelus’
extended fangs slid into her neck, sending another spasm of pleasure tearing
through her as he came hard inside her welcoming body.
For long minutes they sat there, oblivious of their
surroundings or the people that were still in the room as they shared a kiss.
Finally Spike asked in a voice that suggested he was aroused and impatient at
the same time. “You two ready now?”
Smiling in the direction of his childe, Angelus chuckled,
“Of course, my boy.”
The double entendre wasn’t lost on any of them. Spike
laughed, and again wondered at this new and not
insane Angelus. He had always thought that living buried beneath the soul had
caused his Sire no end of problems and once freed he had just taken everything
out on everyone around him.
It was kind of nice to have him back, would have been even
nicer if their relationship could go back to the way it used to be, but
that…discussion was for another time. Right now he needed to update them on
what had happened while they were indulging in each other…and leaving him out
of the fun.
“Giles and Willow are checking out that club like you
wanted, they should be back soon, it’s almost sunrise. Faith here regained
consciousness a bit ago, but hasn’t said a word. Just keeps shaking her head
and closing her eyes as if this were all a dream or something and she was going
to wake up like some princess.”
He crushed his cigarette onto the floor, where about half a dozen others littered the area, and walked over to his master and mistress. Spike was under no delusions as to the pecking order of this particular hierarchy. He was second, along with Willow and Giles, there was no way he’d ever be master in his own right again.
And he was fine with that most of the time, fine with doing as he pleased,
having less responsibilities than Angelus. He knew eventually his name would be
feared the world over as it once was, and for now Spike was content to wait that
moment. Long range plans were never really his thing, but they certainly were
his now not insane Sire’s.
Still, there was something to be said for second in command to Angelus and Buffy. Especially with the grand plans they had designed. Sure, it was going to take a while, years probably, but they had that time. And more besides. And in the mean time those plans were going to be…just plain fun.
Grinning as Angelus smoothed Buffy’s too short skirt over her ample curves,
Spike decided to embrace his sire in deed as well as word. Certainly he had said
he was going to follow Angelus, but at the time that was part to stay with
Willow and partly to keep himself alive and not
in pain.
“And Damon? Have you found anything on him?”
Narrowing his eyes, Spike’s grin turned feral and vindictive; he didn’t like the fact that the weakling had escaped his notice all these years. “Oh, yes, Sire.” He answered, the promise of retribution clear in his voice, and noted Angelus’ raised eyebrow at the proper form of address. He had spent most of his night hunting up information about the older vampire while the two before him had been hunting for food and fun. “You’ll be happy to know that even here his name bears the stigma of rejection. His forces are small and weak. But he does have one advantage.”
Angelus stood, breathed deeply in pleasure at the mixed
scent of their combined essence still floating in the air and the stench of fear
and blood. His hand rested lightly on Buffy’s back as they walked over to the
table holding an assortment of wine. Pouring a flute full for her, then for
himself, he silently inquired Spike’s preference. A little shocked that
Angelus had even bothered, but doing his best not to show it, Spike nodded.
“Advantage? What would that be?” Ah, an excellent
vintage; the previous owner had indeed known his wines.
“He’s business partners with Stewart; it’s a
semi-informal alliance, but one that’s kept him alive for over a decade.”
That was news. “Really? Looks like poor Paul will soon be
in need of a new partner, then.”
This was it, his chance to re-earn his place by his
sire’s side and not just because Spike was one of the few childer left Angelus
could even tolerate. “I’d like him, Sire.” Plus it never hurt to be
respectful.
Angelus growled softly, but asked, “Damon? Why,
William?”
“He got away. No one’s ever escaped me alive.” He
turned to Buffy who was listening to the conversation attentively but mutely,
and grinned, “With the exception of the slayer, unless either you or I wanted
them to. I was unaware that he still lived until you told me so.”
Angelus thought about this for a bit, weighing his need to
inflict serious damage on the vampire who had ogled his mate and caused him so
much aggravation over the years verses Spike’s need for revenge and redemption
in his Sire’s eyes. He felt Buffy’s presence both by his side and through
their Joining link. Looking at her she smiled, hard and fast, but said nothing.
This wasn’t her battle, it was his. Let Spike earn his place by their sides,
or not?
If the look on her face and the feelings coming through
their Joining bond were any indication, she wanted Spike to have this chance.
Sure, she understood Angelus’ need, probably better than anyone, but Spike had
something to prove, not only to his Sire – that he could be trusted – but to
himself as well. That he could do this wasn’t in question, but that he wanted
to, voluntarily, to prove his fealty was something else entirely.
“Alright, Spike, he’s yours.”
Nothing showed on Spike’s face, instead he nodded and
drained his glass. “Thank you, Sire. What do you want to do about Stewart?”
Shrugging, turning his attention back to a fitfully
sleeping Lilah, Angelus said, “Let’s wait and see what Willow and Giles come
up with. Then we’ll decide.”
~~~~~~~~~
Willow and Giles were making their way back from Club
Infinity looking slightly disheveled but laughing like fools. By the time they
made it into the house, the sun was just peaking over the horizon.
“Where have you two been?” Buffy asked, eying the
lightening sky, “And have you been in a fight?” She sounded more annoyed at
being left out than the fact that they had been in one.
“Yes, Willow was, at least. I felt it my duty to protect
her.”
Willow laughed at that, a cold yet oddly mirthful sound
that bounced off the walls and disagreed. “I didn’t start it, but man was it
fun.” Turning to the trio, for Spike and Angelus had joined them by this time,
Willow explained.
“Some lowly little vamp and his four lowly little buddies
recognized me from Sunnydale, thought he could make a move. Didn’t realize I
was already a vampire – stupid minions –until I changed as I threw him up
against the wall.”
Giles laughed, “On the other side of the room.”
Eyes flashing with blue sparks of power, Willow added,
“It was fun. Well, needless to say this precipitated our introduction to Paul.
He was most surprised that The Order of Aurelius had a resurgence of life and is
eager to meet with you, Angelus.”
Giles picked up the story as both he and Willow left out
the remainder of their night of fun, sex, and feeding. It wasn’t like the
three standing before them wouldn’t know, it just wasn’t relevant to any of
them. “We didn’t tell him of Buffy, as you wanted.” He nodded in her
direction. “But he was most curious as to the…circumstances surrounding your
return. And, though he said nothing, more than interested as to the identity of
your mate.”
Buffy grinned and walked closer to Angelus. “I think
it’s time to pay a little visit to Mr. Stewart.”
Her lover agreed, only too readily.
**********
At the moment he was anything but pleased.
Damon I have no last name of the Order of Aurelius was
currently the brunt of his displeasure. The older vampire was annoying at the
best of times, but Paul had owed him and so allowed the alliance, both the
business aspect and the protection one, that was about to give him so much
trouble.
Things had changed in the vampire community over the last
fifty years or so, the world was becoming closer. Maybe not in a positive
relationship kind of way and certainly not in a humans are becoming smarter kind
of way; but it was easier to read the news in Bangladesh and Bulgaria and things
like mysterious deaths and strange sightings were spread farther and faster than
ever before. Demons of all kinds had to hide more often, be more careful; the
good life they had enjoyed for millennia had come crashing down around them.
And never more so than the news that Angelus, once the
infamous Scourge of Europe had turned traitor and worked for the Powers. Now, as
Paul sat in his black leather chair, looking out the tinted windows of his
office several floors above his favored club, he thought back to what he knew
about the other vampire.
Not his reputation, that was there for anyone to know, no
the more interesting aspects of his personality. He had disappeared at the turn
of the twentieth century and hadn’t reappeared until close to the end of it.
And that was when the rumors had really started flying.
His business in LA, his close ties with The Powers, his
legendary clash with Wolfram & Hart…and something about the slayer
(slayers?), too, though those rumors were a bit harder to nail down. It was easy
enough to confirm his good deeds, they both lived in the same city and Angelus
usually wasn’t one to keep a low profile. But he had never bothered Paul so
Paul hadn’t bothered with him
Then the end battles had begun and Paul had his own
concerns. Concerns that were quickly dissipating the more he contemplated
Angelus’ return. Damon was a thorn in his side, his constant blustering and
boasting of being directly descendant from Aurelius had never really held
appeal, but he had strong connections, even if the vampires to whom he had these
connections hated him as much as Paul did.
That and he had inadvertently saved Paul’s life; though
how that happened Paul was still trying to discern. Still, it was a debt Damon
was all too eager to reap, so Paul had acquiesced, extending his protection and
his business to the little man. It had worked for several years, but for a
creature that based his life in centuries, a decade was too long to be
associated with the other vampire.
If Paul knew anything about Angelus it was that the other
demon had lofty goals. Oh, sure, at first it was kill and maim and torture as
many humans as he could possibly get his hands on, but after just a few years,
things changed. Subtly at first, and Paul would never have thought of it again
if the other vampire hadn’t returned, but hindsight is a wonderful thing at
times.
It was true that Angelus had never been interested in the
more political aspects of the vampire community, but he always knew what was
happening no matter his place or mindset. But this time Paul was sure that those
things were exactly what interested him.
Now the two that had disrupted his club the night
before…they were interesting. One whiff and he could smell the blood line of
Aurelius and fainter, but Angelus on them as well. He wasn’t entirely sure
that they had been turned by Angelus himself that was harder to detect, maybe a
childe of his, but there was power there and a lot of it.
They had made the offer, a simple meeting with Angelus and
his new mate, at a time and place convenient to Paul. It was a deceptively
simple offer, but Paul had been more than intrigued and had agreed. There were
several private rooms on the second level of the Infinity and he had offered them. They had accepted, and had resumed
their night of… entertainment – minus the violence that had heralded their
arrival.
The questions now were: One, what Angelus’ current plans
were; Paul very much doubted that they included a relapse into his old ways he
wasn’t exactly known to repeat his previous exploits, and two, who this
mysterious mate was. That was the question more than anything else that kept
plaguing Paul. Everything he knew and had heard about the younger vampire
suggested diversity, variety, and a short attention span when it came to
women….and men alike. Sex for vampires wasn’t really gender based.
The only beings ever to keep his attention for longer than
say a month or two were his own progeny and his sire. And even that was fleeting
when there were others in the picture. But Darla was dead…how had that
happened again? Paul didn’t know but was willing to bet that Angelus hadn’t
cared all that much; he had never been overly concerned about anything other
than his own survival.
Now, as he watched the day progress with little interest,
he wondered what Angelus would bring to their meeting; he was looking forward to
doing business with his old friend (while that may indeed have been too strong a
word for their relationship they had gotten on well enough in the past) and
eagerly anticipated having a stimulating conversation for the first time in
entirely too long.
Standing and stretching, he moved from the opaque window to
the bed in the side room. He hadn’t slept since closing the club thirty
minutes before sunrise, trying to better understand the new situation in which
he found himself. But he was going to need his wits about him for the upcoming
meeting, which was no doubt going to be very interesting.
Not to mention the meeting of this mate. Angelus was hardly
one for monogamy, but the way the man, Giles he had called himself – was there
a reason he should know that name? – had said it, it sounded…permanent.
Wouldn’t that be interesting?
~~~~~~~~~
The meeting wasn’t scheduled until midnight, giving them
plenty of time to indulge their vindictive urges against the three humans who
currently hung along the basement wall.
Willow, more than pleased to get both Faith well, parts of her, and eventually
Dawn unless they needed her for something, was currently awaiting Giles so they
could begin. Spike was doing something for Angelus and would join them later, as
would Buffy and Angelus.
Turn her; don’t turn her, that is the question of the
day. Or at least the moment. While it might be amusing to see the bad girl Faith
as a lowly minion, there was something to be said for her wild tendencies. Who
knew what kind of vampire she would make? And it wasn't like they could just
undo the change once it was done; make her stronger into a true childe. No the
change, once done, would be permanent.
Still, Faith as their willing slave…the thought made her smile, her predatory
teeth flashing in the dimness of the basement.
On the other hand, there was the torture and sadism part of the program. Killing
her, while fun, would only leave her dead. But could they trust her? No not even
when she had a soul was she trustworthy, though her attempt to amend those
infractions had seemed genuine enough at the time – and were highly amusing
now. Still there was something to be said for holding grudges through
existences. Losing her soul hadn’t changed Willow’s hatred of the slayer no
it had only increased it exponentially.
Well, there was fun to be had first and Willow planned to have some.
With or without Giles who was late. What on earth was he doing up there anyway?
Just then the man in question walked through the door. “Ah, good, you’re
here. I was going to start without you on the psychopathic super bitch.”
“Wouldn’t want to miss all the fun. But I think we should keep her alive for a bit; a new slayer isn’t exactly what we need at the moment.”
“Hmm, true. How about we see how much she can stand
first? Then we’ll decide.”
“Works for me,” Giles agreed his eyes hard and his
mouth twisted into a cruel smirk.
~~~~~~
Faith had seen and done a lot of things in her life.
From her drunken mother to her Watcher being gutted right
in front of her. Her spiral into the darkness that had always haunted her and
her alliance with the mayor against the only people who had ever tried to be her
friends. Her coma and her shared dreams with Buffy and her eventual reawakening
only to plan her revenge against her sister slayer and Angel. Her time in
prison; her release – not for good behavior but because Angel, Buffy, Giles
and who knew who all else had planned her escape because she was needed for the
end battles – and her time in Russia.
It all paled in comparison with the myriad emotions that battled for dominance
when she had awoken several hours ago. Her hopes for her friends had been
dashed. Indeed, her friends were all dead and the only thing left in their place
was the body, filled with every dark, sadistic, cruel, and malicious emotion
ever to have a place in the human psyche.
She was chained to a wall in a wine cellar next to Dawn and Lilah and it
didn’t look like any of them were leaving any time soon. She was in more
trouble now than in all her previous attempts at attention combined. And her
friends were the ones wielding the knife.
Or more specifically, the knives, the whip, the other countless pointy objects
she couldn't identify through her blackened eye…were those hedge sheers? Oh,
yes, the fists and the kicks, the ever popular salt in open wounds. And if that
wasn’t enough, Giles had started the mental portion of the program soon after
the first lash of the whip touched her exposed skin.
Physical abuse was one thing, and in moderation she could probably have handled
it. But Faith was weak, always had been and always would be. Her self esteem was
nil even after all this time and Giles knew exactly which buttons to push and
when. He was a master, almost as good as Willow was at letting that whip fly.
God, couldn’t she alternate between the infernal whip and something else?
“You’re nothing but a whore, Faith,” He said in that
English accent of his making the word ‘whore’ into something more something
worse, if that was possible, than if it had been said in a flat American accent.
“A whore who couldn’t decide which side she wanted to
be on so tried both, who had others telling her what to do. Couldn’t even make
up your own mind, and I wonder why that is. Could it be because you’re weak?
Because it’s easier to go with the flow than it is to make your own path?
Easier to pretend amends when we all know that no matter what you do there is
no forgiveness?”
Giles was good, Spike gave him that. Playing on the girl’s need for love and
attention, her shame of her past, her hope for a future. He gave her no
reprieve, no relief, minute after minute, insult after insult. But the best
thing about his words was that he made nothing up.
No lies were spoken, no truths hidden. Everything Giles
said to Faith, about her and her past, her actions, everything…was perfectly
true. And after a while…she believed it as well.
“Let’s face it, Faith. No matter what you do, it’ll
never be enough to make up for what you’ve already committed. I doubt you’ve
ever read the book, but in Dante’s ‘Inferno’,
the worst level of Hell, the ninth circle, Cocytus,
is reserved for traitors, for betrayers. Those who betrayed those closest to
them, Judas, Brutus…and now you.”
Spike watched his lover as she let the whip land over various parts of Faith’s
skin with varying degrees of brutality…and wished it were him she was whipping
instead of the bitch slayer. He was turned on like he couldn’t believe and she
wasn’t, more the pity, even doing anything to him. But he could smell her
arousal, the scent permeating the air, and knew he was close to grabbing her,
dragging her to the back of the wine racks, and, uncaring who saw or heard them,
pounding into her until they both screamed for more.
By the time Angelus and Buffy joined them, for the final part of Giles’ mental
torture, Faith was only semi aware, her mouth bleeding and jaw broken – Giles
was tired f her screaming. If she had wanted to ask for mercy, she wouldn’t
have been able to do so.
They walked in just as Spike’s control snapped and he grabbed Willow, dragging
her out of the room, but only making it as far as the stairs. Their growls of
passion could be heard by all three vampires, making them grin despite
themselves.
“And I though we were bad,” Buffy said as her hand
drifted down Angelus’ chest, caressing his marble skin through the silk of his
shirt.
Giles looked at them, sighing. He really needed to find someone who could keep
up with his appetites longer than a few hours. This was getting ridiculous.
“You two are.” He said as he watched Angelus pull Buffy closer, crushing
hers lips beneath his.
And it was still hours before sunset.
Angelus pulled back, complimenting Giles. “Nice touch
there, Giles. I like the ‘Inferno’
reference. Makes me think of another betrayer but Wesley’s still far down on
the list yet.” Giles was good there was no doubt of that. And Angelus found
himself almost…proud of the man. Interesting.
~~~~~~~~~~
Dawn was mad.
Not mad as in extremely angry or irritated or aggravated or
annoyed. Mad as in…‘MAD’
She was insane, crazy as a loon, mad as a hatter, cuckoo,
batty, loopy, nutty. You name the adjective she was all that and more. Still a
child in so many ways, she wasn’t able to handle the physical and emotional
torture inflicted upon her by the various members of the small clan.
So she hung there, not completely comprehending what was
happening, yet totally aware of it on some dim level that hid and cowered,
trembling with trepidation levels below her conscious mind.
She hung there, wrists bleeding from the weight of her body being supported solely by the chains; numerous wounds, cuts, scrapes, gashes, some healed some not some in the process of healing, all covering her once flawless skin.
She hung there…broken.
Her magickal bonds had long since been released, allowing
her the chance to escape, should she remember she had them and remember how to
access them and remember who she was and remember where she was and remember
everything or anything at all would have been nice…
But she simply hung there, staring at the scene before her
and to the far left of her, wondering who these poor schmucks were and wasn’t
it a shame, yes, such a pity that they were in such pain and where had that yell
come from, surely not her, yes, it was a shame…
~~~~~~~
“I think we broke her.” Buffy commented to the group in
general as Angelus continued to caress her bare stomach from behind long, long
hours after the start of Faith’s shove into madness.
They were starring at Dawn who stared back, a blank look in her eyes that
bespoke of nothing, absolutely nothing. Giles leaned on the far wall, smoking a
cigarette he had swiped from Spike. The fact that her lover and her father
figure were sharing smokes was only a little disturbing to the new and improved
Willow as she watched Buffy goad Dawn into a reaction. Any reaction would have
done, but the girl was obviously beyond everything.
Giles crushed the butt out and walked towards them,
admonishing, “Will you please stop that?”
The comment was directed not only at Buffy and Angelus, but Willow and Spike who were practically fucking each other against the stone wall that lined the room instead of making Dawn suffer. Though that was relative; could you make someone suffer if they weren’t aware of the pain?
He really needed to find himself a woman who could keep up with his appetites.
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