Chapter Fourteen
Buffy slowly pulled herself towards consciousness, the ache in her over stretched arms near unbearable. Her head lolled to the side as she started to remember what had been happening to her. The second she had entered the mansion, she had been besieged by minions. She fought, but for every one she killed, three took his place. She wondered idly when Angel had the time to make so many. Finally, she succumbed to the masses surrounding her. Her limp body had been dragged into the great room, where Angel and Dru were fondling Kendra. The girl looked so scared and helpless. Buffy had tried to fight once more, desperately wanting to help her sister Slayer. But, as she watched in horror, the two master vampires sank their fangs into the girls soft throat, one on each side. Kendra’s scream would echo eternally in Buffy’s memory. When the girls body had slumped lifeless to the floor, they had turned their attention on her. She had been stripped, then shackled to the ceiling, her arms pulled high above her head, so she could barely balance on her toes.
She didn’t remember when she had passed out. It must have been sometime after Angel raping her, and Druscilla splashing holy water across her skin. She had been in so much pain, that it had all started to meld together into one white hot throb. She knew they were trying to break her, but, every time she felt herself start to cave, Spike’s face would swim through her mind. That alone had kept her from crumbling when Angel had plowed into her. She found that she could distance herself from it, almost like she was leaving her body. What was happening to her flesh, wasn’t doing anything to her mind. She was strong, stronger than they thought she was. So, she endured what they did to her, the only outward sign being the lone tear that had slipped down her cheek when Angel’s fangs had sunk into her throat over Spikes’ mark. His growled ‘mine’ had made her stomach roll, as opposed to the sheer joy she had felt when Spike had done the same.
Her Slayer side was screaming at her, telling her to fight. Why was she just taking their abuse when she could at least die trying to stop it? But for once, practicality won out over her usual impulsiveness. She was out numbered, and out matched. She hadn’t realized her full potential as a Slayer/vampire, as her earlier session with Spike could attest to. She had needed Angels’ blood to gain strength. His stinginess with it and her escape had made sure that she would never get it.
Buffy tensed when razor like pain lanced through her. She opened her eyes to see Dru, slowly circling her, a knife dripping with blood in her tiny hand.
“She’s awake, my Angel.” She sang, dipping the blade into the jar of clear liquid in her other hand. With a smile filled with pure delight, she drew the edge along the Slayer’s cheek. At the same instant, Buffy felt Angel behind her.
“Good.” he growled, forcing his erection into her. Buffy bit the inside of her cheek to keep the scream inside. She blinked rapidly to clear the tears from her eyes as he took her violently from the rear. Druscilla kept up her crazy art work, the Slayers body her canvas, the holy water dipped knife her brush. Odd patterns that burned like fire appeared across her skin.
“I will break you.” Angel growled in her ear, his punishing thrusts never stopping their assault on her tender behind.
“Never.” she hissed back, her eyes drifting closed. Blood poured from her wrists from where the manacles were digging into them. She could feel the minions around them, hear their grunts and growls as they watched and fucked. Shame tried to get a hold on her, but she refused to allow it. She would not let them win.
“Sorry to interrupt, but, Peaches, didn’t we have a date? So uncaring of you to forget.” Buffy’s eyes snapped open and she turned her head. Spike stood at the entrance of the great room, his body tense, his face unreadable. A cigarette dangled from between his lips, and his hands hung loosely at his sides. His blue eyes met hers, and she felt their heat. Relief and joy flooded through her when she saw him, only to be tampered when Angel’s roar of climax filled the room, and the sting of his fangs pierced her throat. Buffy’s lip trembled at the look of rage that crossed Spike’s face.
“Mine.” Angel snarled, glaring yellow eyes at the blonde.
“Bad form, mate.” Spike bit out the words. Then he was on Angel, his clawed hands gripping the brunette around the shoulders and throwing him away from her. Druscilla backed away from the Slayer, her eyes riveted to the two alpha males. Spike kept an eye on them both, while speaking to Buffy. “Alright, pet?” he asked her, shrugging out of his duster. Angel rose to his feet, growling in warning to Spike.
“Yeah. Kick his ass.” she said, pleased when his lip quirked in a ghost of a smile. He left the leather at her feet, and started to advance on the naked Master vampire.
“Why are we doing this again?” Xander asked nervously from his spot by the door. He was the look out in case Principal Snyder decided to stop in.
“Because, something is telling me to. I can’t explain it, it’s like there’s this force pushing me. Almost like it’s saying Angel’s work on this plane isn’t done. I have to try.” Willow answered, begging her best friend to understand. Brown eyes met green in a moment without words. Then, like so many times before, Xander nodded, showing his support. With a slight smile, she turned back to Cordelia and Oz, who were seated at the table, the Orb of Thessulah between them. “Are we ready?” She asked, moving to sit in the chair at the head.
“Stinky herbs a go.” Cordy answered, waving the smoking bundle of herbs over the orb. Oz looked up at his girlfriend, the slightest touch of apprehension in his eyes.
“Did I mention I didn’t take Latin?” he asked. Willow gave his a tight smile.
“Y-you don’t have to understand it. You just have to say it.” she reassured. “I hope.”
“Right.”
Angel watched Spike move towards him, uncaring of his nudity. It would make things easier when the fight was over and the brunette could force his dominance over the blonde one last time, before he cut his head off.
“What do you say, we make this more interesting?” Angel began, conversationally. Spike’s eyebrow shot up, but he didn’t quit his slow advance on the older vampire.
“Oh, I think it’ll be right interesting enough when I filet the skin off your body one strip at a time.” Spike countered, yellow eyes flashing. Angel smirked at that, obviously not threatened.
“Well, then this ought to make it easier.” He snapped his fingers and a minion scurried to him, carrying two ornate, gold swords. Spike bit back his groan at the sight of the familiar objects. He hated to fight with swords, thought they were for pansies who didn’t want to get their hands dirty. *Probably why the ponce likes em so much.* he thought with disgust. Give him an ax or his fists and Spike was a happy vampire.
Angel looked at him, knowing how he felt about swords. But, that would make this so much simpler. Spike had been capable with a sword, not outstanding. Unlike Angel, who had excelled in it. With a grin, he threw one towards Spike, and watched him pluck it effortlessly out of the air.
“Let’s just get on with it, alright.” Spike drawled, gripping the handle and the case. With a sing of metal, the blade was pulled from it’s sheath, the light from the candle reflecting from it and back across his face. Buffy turned so she could keep tabs on what was going on, oblivious to Dru coming up beside her.
“Let’s go.” Angel reply, lunging first. The clash of steel meeting steel reverberated through the room. Angel took the early advantage, expertly blocking each of Spike’s thrusts. He drew first blood, when he dance in close and flicked the tip of the blade across the blondes cheek. Spike stumbled back, wiping a hand across the gash. Gathering his bearings, he blocked Angels’ next few strikes, managing a blow to the face when Angel moved close again. A satisfied grin split his face at Angel’s outraged growl. With a war whoop, Spike swung again.
Across town, in the darkened library, three teenagers looked on as their friend struggled with the spell.
“Gods, bind him,” Willow began, a strange feeling settling over her. “Cast him from the evil realm.” she gasped, feeling suddenly dizzy. “Return, I call on. . .” She was swaying a bit now, her green eyes glassy. Xander started towards the table, concern etched across his face. Oz leaned closer to his girlfriend, fear gripping his heart, if not his features.
“Willow?”
“Are you okay?” Cordelia asked, her eyes skimming nervously over Willow’s pale face.
They all jumped when Willows’ head whipped towards the ceiling, her sightless eyes snapping open. Her eyes dropped to the Orb, and her lips begin to move. The words spilling from her mouth were not in a language any of them knew. Her voice had taken on the quality of a echo, as if something was speaking through her, helping her with the spell.
“Te implore, Doamne, nu ignora aceasta rugaminte.” (I implore you, Lord. Do not ignore this request.)
“Is this a good thing?” Oz asked, concern marring his brow. Xander could only shrug a shoulder as he watched his best friend.
“Nici mort, nici al fiintei. . .” (Neither dead, or of the living)
“Hey!” Cordy burst out, majorly wigged. “Speak English!”
“Lassa orbita sa fie vasul care i va transporta sufletul la el!” (Let this orb be the vessel that will carry his soul to him)
Buffy watched in wide eyed fascination as the two vampires dueled. Spike wasn’t as adept with a sword, and it was painfully obvious. This lines of blood littered his arms and chest. His shirt was shredded and hanging in strips around his torso. But, that wasn’t to say that he wasn’t doing all right. Every chance he got, he landed a well placed blow to any open place on Angel he could reach. Bruises now marred the older vampires face, back and chest. Blood poured form his nose where Spike had nailed it with his elbow.
Buffy yelled with triumph when Angel staggered back due to a kick to the jaw. His sword clattered to the ground when Spike brought his own blade around and sliced the tendons in Angel’ arm. Druscilla began wailing as the tide of the fight turned, and she clamored across the room to retrieve the fallen sword.
“This, is for touching what’s mine.” Spike growled, power coursing through his veins as his fists plowed mercilessly into flesh. Angels’ grunts fueled him on, and he attacked with a savagery never seen before. He never released the sword, using the hilt as a form of brass knuckles. The intricate design on the handle carved out niches on Angel’s face, turning his handsome features into a macabre sculpture. “This, is for hurting Buffy.” Spike snarled, sending his steel toed boot directly in to the unprotected groin of the Master. Angel howled in pain, sinking to his knees. Spike rose over him, sword held high over his head.
“Asa sa fie! Asa sa fie! Acum!” (So shall it be. So shall it be. Now!)
With a smile of satisfaction, Spike prepared to swing the sword down on Angels upturned head. Pain filled brown eyes shone with hate as he looked at the blonde.
“Goodbye, Peaches.”
“ACUM!” (Now!) As the last word of the spell fell from her lips, Willow slumped forward over the table, unconscious.
Just as Spike was preparing to end the life of the Scourge of Europe, his hand stilled when Angel screamed in agony, a blue light blocking the brown irises of his eyes. He watched as the brunette blinked in confusion, his eyes coming to focus on the man in front of him.
“Spike?” Angel gasped, feeling as if he just woken up from a long sleep. Spike slowly lowered his sword, brows drawn together. “What’s going on. Where’s Buffy?”
“Angel?” Spike questioned, kneeling in front of him. He reached out to grip the older vampires shoulder, forcing him to meet his eyes. “What do you remember?” he asked him curtly. *Red did the spell* he thought, not sure how to feel about it. Neither male noticed Dru, sword in hand, moving stealthily behind them. Buffy did though, and She began tugging ruthlessly on her bonds. Panic gripped her as sh realized the vampiress’ intent. She slowly began raising the sword over her head, as Buffy managed to pull the shackles from the ceiling.
“No!!” she screamed, charging at the trio in the center of the room. The men’s head snapped at her scream, and they turned to see the fully vamped Slayer running across the room, her naked, bloody body giving her the air of an ancient warrior. She used the chains attached to her arms as whips, using one to knock the sword out of Dru’s hand as she held it poised to take Spike’s head. Dru howled in outrage as Buffy used the second chain to wrap around her waist, dragging the brunette towards her. Spike and Angel watched with shock as the first chain came up again to twine tightly around Druscilla’s throat. A triumphant howl filled the air as Buffy twisted her wrist, effectively beheading the surprised vampiress.
Buffy’s strength seeped out of her as the Druscilla exploded into a cloud of dust.
Willow woke up to find herself encased in the strong arms of her boyfriend.
“Willow?” Oz’s voice had the unusual trace of worry laced through it, and she raised her eyes to look at him. Relief flooded his features when he saw she was alright.
“Are you okay?” Xander asked, fear making his voice tremble. Cordy sat next to him, her fingers tightly laced with his, her eyes filled with apprehension.
“Yeah. Just a little tired.” She said, pushing herself up in Oz’s embrace. He seemed loath to let her go completely, so, she snuggled back into his chest.
“Did it work?” Cordy asked.
“I think so. It felt like it.” Willow replied, looking at the uncertain faces of her friends. “I guess, we just have to wait and see.” They all looked at each other then, fear of a different kind seizing them.