Chapter Two
Buffy stalked through the quiet streets, her head hung low. She’d had to get away from Giles’, just for a moment. Had to escape the pained and disbelieving expression of her mother’s face. The face that told her the she had disappointed her mom once again. So, when Giles had gone upstairs to find a book, and her friends had been distracted with each other, she snuck out the kitchen door.
She knew she couldn’t stay gone long, just needed to get a breath of air. *And something to eat* she thought as she felt the demon inside of her start to insist. She paused under a street lamp to get her bearings, them turned in the direction of the nearest butcher’s shop. The thought of drinking blood didn’t sit well with her at all, but, she guessed it was part of who she was now. She really wished she was brave enough to stake herself, or to walk into the rising sun. But, she wasn’t in a hurry to cash in her ticket to Hell. At least that’s where she thought she would go. She was a vampire with a demon and her own soul. Where did that register on the ‘go straight to hell’ chart?
The funny thing was, that except for the obvious demonic presence, and the whole no breathing or heart beat thing. She couldn’t really say she felt different. She still had all her feelings. She didn’t have any overwhelming urge to destroy everything in a fifty mile radius. And the thought of feeding off a human was just. . . ew. Angel had once told her that it was a constant struggle to keep the demon under control. Only the conscience and guilt that the soul had provided kept him truly in check. That and his desire for atonement for his sins.
She didn’t seem to have that problem, however. From what she could tell, the only thing the demon was doing to her was reminding her it was time to eat. She truly hoped that’s all it continued to do. She didn’t want to think that she had the potential to become like Angelus. Or Druscilla.
Tear welled in her eyes as she thought of the two vampires. The things they had done to her when she had awoken to the nightmare that was now her life. She knew they were trying to dominate her, make her acquiescent. She guessed the combination of her soul and her being the Slayer prevented it. She had played along, though, until they grew tired and withdrew to their room. Then she had killed the two guards at her door. She slipped out of the house and immediately into the sewer conduit. Luckily she’d had the presence of mind to grab the blanket off the bed first. She didn’t want to have gone through all the trouble to stay alive only to become a crispy critter during her escape.
With a sigh, Buffy walked into the butcher shop. A few minutes later she walked out, still immersed in her thoughts. She didn’t notice the figure that had started following her a few blocks back. As she moved into the less populated part of town, the figure sped up, covering the distance between them in seconds.
“Slayer.” Buffy whirled, barely keeping a grip on the bag in her hand. Her empty hand went to grab for a stake, only coming up empty. *Shit* she thought. In her haste to leave the oppressive atmosphere of Giles’ apartment, she had forgotten to grab the one thing she was never without.
*Well, just have to improvise* keeping one eye on the man in front of her, she placed the bag on the ground. After the ridiculous price the butcher had charged her, she was loath to have anything happen to it.
“Who are you?” she asked, straining to see him in the shadows. It didn’t even occur to her to use her newly acquired night vision. She gasped when he stepped fully into the light of the street lamp. *What a HOTTIE* she thought, immediately shaking it off. *Not good to lust after the enemy. Haven’t you learned your lesson?* Buffy scolded herself, even as her eyes roamed down the lean, hard body in front of her. Dressed entirely in black, his jeans and t-shirt formed to the muscles of his arms, legs and abs, leaving nothing to the imagination. A long, leather duster and black Doc Martins completed the bad boy look. His white hair and pale skin stood out in sharp contrast to his attire. This man, vampire, commanded attention. She could almost see the energy crackling around him, as if it was a physical thing. Danger and power rolled off of him in waves. For the first time, in a long time, Buffy felt fear.
“WHO. ARE. YOU?” She asked again, enunciating each word. A feral smile curled his full mouth, drawing her gaze to the action. *I bet he kisses good* she immediately berated herself for the traitorous thought. He was here to kill her, not get into her pants. She felt a strange twinge of disappointment. *God, is this what being turned does? Makes you into a hornball.* she scoffed at herself.
“Spike.” he answered simply, waiting for a glimmer of recognition. Not seeing any, he cursed inwardly. *Don’t Watcher’s teach their Slayers anything, anymore?*
“Did Angel send you?” she asked, scanning the street around them. Spike rolled his eyes, allowing his demonic visage to surge forward. *Wow, even vamped he’s a hottie.* Buffy shook her head, trying to figure out where these thoughts were coming from. You’d think after the introduction to vampire life she’d had, sex would be the furthest thing from her mind.
“Angelus is the least of your worries.” Then, he launched. She almost didn’t get her arm up in time to block the punch to her face. *Shitshitshitshit* the words played over in her mind as Spike drove her backwards. A kick to the stomach had her doubling over, but she recovered quickly, and slammed her tiny fist into the underside of his jaw. He staggered back a step, a wide smile plastered across his face.
“They were right.” he said, sweeping her feet out from under her. She rolled out of the way as his fist swung towards her face. The concrete where her head had been only seconds before, cracked under the force of his blow. He cursed as he felt two of his knuckles break.
“Who was right about what?” she asked, grunting when he backhanded her. Fireworks went off in front of her eyes from the impact. *Great, another bruise to add to my collection.* She slammed the heel of her hand into his nose, satisfied with the crunch she heard. They danced around each other for a moment, looking for an opening.
“You are the best.” He replied, wiping a hand under his nose.
“I’m flattered.” Buffy said, sending a flying kick to his head. He caught her ankle before it connected, twisting it to spin her in the air. She landed on the ground with a whoosh, unable to move for a moment. Spike gripped her shoulder and rolled her to her back. She saw the stake as he raised his left hand, preparing for the kill. By sheer force of will, she caught his wrist. She pulled, turning his hand as he fell forward. His eyes widened a fraction before he felt the wood pierce his skin. She rolled away before he could pin her under his weight. She sprang to her feet, grabbed her bag and took off into the night, never looking back.
Spike considered chasing her as he pulled the stake out of his stomach. The pain searing through his abdomen convinced him not to. There was time. This encounter was just so he could gage her skills. And she was skilled. *Pretty little thing, too.* He thought, hauling himself to his feet. Too bad he had to kill her. He wouldn’t mind going a round of a different sort with her. Pulling his cigarettes out of his pocket, he lit one and started to walk down the street.
He’d have to find a place to hole up for the night. Couldn’t go back to the mansion in this shape. It just reeked of ‘fight with the Slayer.’ Not to mention her scent that still lingered on his skin. He was in no mood to deal with Angel while he was still being all territorial.
Smoking thoughtfully, he began to mentally check off everything he had just learned about her. She was quick, strong, and resourceful. But so were the other two Slayer’s he’d killed. However, she had a power shining in her eyes that they didn’t. She also never vamped out once. If it wasn’t for her lack of heartbeat, he would have thought she was an average Slayer. Although, if that were the case, he wouldn’t be in Sunnydale.
Whistling softly to himself, he walked slowly through the town, silently saluting the girl. It would be an honor to kill this one.
Buffy burst into Giles’ apartment, slamming the door closed behind her. Her mother was off the couch in an instant, crossing to her daughter and pulling her into a fierce hug.
“You scared us to death, Buffy.” she admonished, pulling back to look at her. Giles came up beside them, worry and anger warring for dominance on his face.
“That was very reckless of you, Buffy. What if Angel had been looking for you, or. . .”
“I think the ‘or’ is what we need to worry about right now.” The Slayer cut him off, moving past them into the living room. The other four were still there, with the addition of Kendra. They were all staring at her with mixed expressions of worry and apprehension.
“What do you mean?” The Watcher’s voice was tight as he studied the young girl in front of him. Buffy didn’t answer until she had crossed to Kendra, staring into the other Slayer’s eyes. Crossing her arms over her chest, she started to speak.
“I think I just met the ‘him’ Kendra warned us about.” She heard Giles’ sharp intake of air, and turned to him. “Who is he?”
“Good lord. Are you alright?” he asked, noticing the fresh bruise along the underside of her chin.
“I’m fine. I’m not dusty, so, I’m fine. Not to say that he didn’t try. But you didn’t answer my question. Who IS he?” Giles took off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. Buffy waited impatiently, her gaze shifting between him and Kendra. The rest of the group sat in tense silence, as anxious for the explanation as the Slayer.
Giles put his glasses back on and moved to the coffee table, picking up a thick book. He thumbed through the pages, finding what he needed quickly and walked back to Buffy.
“Read this.” he instructed her, holding it out to her. She just glared at the old text, her arms still crossed.
“I don’t really think this is research time, Giles. You know who he is, tell me.”
“He goes by the name Spike. However, he is also know as William the Bloody.” He started, still holding out the book.
“That tells me his name, not WHO he is. Besides, he already introduced himself.” He sighed heavily, wondering what he had done to deserve such an obstinate Slayer.
“He goes by another name as well. The Slayer of Slayers.” The color that was left in Buffy’s cheeks drained, as her eyes widened. He wasn’t just some vamp out to do a Slayer. He had done them before. “Now, would you please read the bloody book. There is more, but you must know his history first.”
With numb fingers, Buffy finally took it from him, moving to the couch to sit next to her mother. With one last glance around the room, she then bent her head and started to read.
When Buffy closed the book, she felt decidedly ill. It seemed that William the Bloody, a.k.a. Spike, took his name to heart. One hundred and thirty years of blood, death and destruction, surpassed only by Angelus, who liked to add torture into the mix. *And guess who sired the sicko* she asked herself. *None other than your sire. Didn’t that make him my brother, or something?* A shudder racked through her at that. It was a stupid thought, but a disturbing one, no less.
He had also killed two Slayers. Angel hadn’t even killed one. *Until me. But, I guess he didn’t technically kill me, so does that count?* Buffy shook off the inane thoughts that kept bombarding her and looked up at her Watcher.
“Okay, he’s a sick, sadistic bastard with a thing for Slayers. He’s also one of Angels’. That bout cover it?” She asked, handing him the book back.
“Part of it.” he answered, cleaning his glasses for the hundredth time since she started reading.
“What do you mean?” Joyce asked, concern for her daughter overwhelming her initial shock at the situation.
“And why is he after Buffy if he knows she’s a vamp? Shouldn’t he be throwing her a Welcome to the Club, party or something?” Willow asked, her brow wrinkled in confusion.
“Maybe he didn’t know where to send the invitation.” Oz said, his stoic expression never changing. Buffy sent him an appreciative smile. *At least someone can find the funnies in this mess.*
Willow giggled at her boyfriends joke, and even Xander’s lips quirked into a smile. Cordelia just rolled her eyes at the lameness that was them, and went back to reading her magazine.
Giles sat forward in his chair and pinned Buffy with his eyes.
“What you read is not entirely the truth.” he started.
“Then WHY did I read it? We don’t really have a lot of time to waste.” she told him pointedly.
“You needed to know this, before I could tell you the rest. I never told you about him, because I honestly never believed he would be needed here.”
“What do you mean, ‘needed’?”
“Why doncha just get on wit it already.” Kendra spoke up for the first time. Giles looked over his shoulder at the girl, who was idly fingering the stake in her hand.
“Very well. This is the official version of William the Bloody’s history. The unofficial version is much more complicated.” Sighing again, he looked down at the hand drawn picture of the vampire in question. “What I am about to tell you, no Slayer has ever heard before. What is in this book is what they are told.”
“Why?” Buffy was starting to feel nervous. Giles was reluctant to tell this tale, and she almost told him not to. But she knew that hiding from it wouldn’t make Spike go away. Maybe something in his story would tell her how to defeat him. She could tell that luck was the only thing that had kept her from being brought home in a ashtray tonight.
“To keep them ignorant as to his true place in the world. You see, Spike is not your average master vampire.”
“I got that impression. What exactly is he?” He couldn’t put it off any longer. With another deep sigh, Giles looked her straight in the eye and answered.
“He is a vampire/human hybrid, created by the Watchers’ Council to hunt down and kill turned Slayers.”