Chapter 18: Demons
The door closed softly behind Buffy, and Spike sighed loudly. Just being close to her was intoxicating, let alone having her lips on his skin. It had been a struggle not to claim her in return. Hell, he had wanted it so much. If she had proposed, he would have taken. But she hadn’t. And he had been too conscious of one thing. She would have to leave him to go back to Angel. And the poof would not have understood his girl wearing another’s mark.
He poured himself a glass of scotch, not bothering with blood this time. Feeding with the chip was a chore. Bloody bags.
His pupils widened as he heard the faint creak of the door, his nose catching a familiar scent. Cursing silently, he drained his glass and filled it again. He kept his back to the other man, aware of his complete vulnerability.
“If you’re going to dust me, do it now and skip the bloody talk. If not, just sod off.”
He was just a couple of steps behind Spike now. The blonde could feel the muscles of his back get tense in anticipation of the blow that was certainly coming.
“You were wrong, boy. Angelus wouldn’t have staked you. He would have taken great pleasure in torturing you. You would have been begging for death before he was even half done with you.”
Spike kept silent and waited. Too much tension in that voice. More was coming, and it wouldn’t be pretty.
“Give me a drink.”
Spike thoughtlessly filled a glass with the same alcohol he had been drinking and was already turning to his Sire before he realized what had just happened. He clenched his teeth and thrust the glass to Angel. The brunette grabbed it and took a slow sip.
“How do you like it, boy ? It’s better to be on the other side, isn’t it? More fun to give commands than to have to obey them.”
He didn’t see it coming. Angel’s palm landed right on his cheek. He was a bit stunned, not because of the force of the blow, but because it had only been a slap. The kind a parent gives in anger. Not even very hard. Humiliation filled him.
“I never knew until today that you were stupid, boy. Crazy, yes, as much as Dru in your own way. But stupid, I wouldn’t have suspected.”
Blue eyes met brown ones squarely. They had played that little game before, but this time Spike wouldn’t give in. He wasn’t the same person he had been the last time such a confrontation happened. Neither of them was.
“Turning her, making her your Childe, giving her a soul, letting her get away from you, ordering her to drink from you,” Angel counted on his fingers. “No doubt, you’re completely stupid. You just want me to hurt you, don’t you?”
Another slap. Harder, this time, but Spike was ready and he didn’t flinch.
“You were right about one point. The soul does soften the bond. Which means you’re the only one hurting here, boy. She’s just fine without you. And so am I. How does it feel to be so unneeded?”
Angel’s eyes narrowed in mixed surprise and anger as Spike laughed, throwing his head back.
“Skip the act, Peaches. I heard you tell the Slayer about your Childer. Touching, really. So leaving us was hard? Guess what. Dru and me were very happy without you. A bloody glorious time, we had. So who feels unneeded now?”
Angel threw his glass against the wall behind Spike, alcohol and shards of glass scattering all around. Gold seeped through the brown of his eyes until it had almost completely taken over. Then abruptly, it was gone and it was his turn to laugh mockingly.
“I heard you too, boy. Can’t say I really remember the last time Angelus was around, but from what I heard it didn’t take long for Dru to decide who she wanted most. Maybe you can enlighten me and fill in the blanks about what you did?”
Weirdly enough, the words hurt more than the hits had. Being rejected by Dru had been bad enough. But realizing he was jealous of her just as much as he was jealous of him had been simply sickening.
“I got rid of you, that’s what I did,” the blonde spat. “The Slayer was the one to send you to hell, but I helped her. And I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again if you hurt her.”
Angel took a step closer, and was now looming over the younger vampire. The look on his face was pure hatred, yet the voice was ice and quiet. From experience, Spike knew it was more dangerous than a shout would have been.
“If I hurt her, boy? Who’s the one yanking on her chain? Forcing her to feed from you?”
Spike wanted to tell him that she had fed willingly, not because she had been ordered to. It would have felt so good to let that little piece of knowledge bring pain to Angel, payback for all the pain he had endured in a century. But doing so would also eventually harm Buffy. So he did what had always been the hardest thing for him. He kept his mouth shut.
“She doesn’t need to be reminded of what she is,” Angel continued coldly. “Feeding from someone is not necessary for her to live, so don’t you try and put ideas in her mind.”
Spike stared incredulously at his Sire.
“Is that a joke? Have you been bagging it for so long that you have forgotten what it’s like? Bloody hell, she’s been turned four days ago! Even with the sodding soul, the demon is there. And she has had no time to learn to control it. Feed from people is what vampires do. She’s a vampire. That’s what she needs! The fact that she won’t harm humans doesn’t mean she doesn’t crave biting! “
“Won’t you ever shut up!”
Closed fist, this time. Spike managed not to take a step back, still holding his ground. His tongue darted out, catching the blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. He would have returned the blow happily, but had recognized both in the voice and eyes of Angel something he had seen only a couple of times in Angelus. An anger that could lead to very, very painful consequences.
“Don’t move.”
Again, a command Spike couldn’t disobey. His fists clenched as Angel circled around him, and he forced himself to look straight ahead and ignore his Sire’s actions. The brunette stopped behind him and whispered in his ear, threatening.
“You will stop spying on her. You will leave her alone. You will not order her around ever again. Because if you continue your game, boy, I swear I will make you wish it was Angelus you had to deal with.”
Spike howled in pain as Angel’s fangs sank into his flesh, millimeters from the marks Buffy had left earlier. She had been gentle and soft, almost loving. This was about pure domination. The violent bite seemed to last forever, and Spike couldn’t help but remember the night Dru had chosen him. This was exactly what it felt like. Angel was draining him.
Eventually, his Sire let go of him, and Spike fell to his knees, struggling not to simply pass out.
“Remember my words, William. Stay the hell away from us.”
In a few quick strides, Angel was out of the crypt, leaving his Childe on the floor. It took Spike several hours before he could summon the force to stand and feed.
Angel was so angry he couldn’t shake off his demon face. If he had stayed one minute more in that crypt, he would have staked his pathetic excuse for a Childe. Hell, he might be going back and finish the job before the night was over. In the meantime, he was going to find as many vamps and demons as he could and do some serious carnage.
No, angry was nowhere near close enough to describe what he was feeling. Burning fury. Blinding rage.
He shouldn’t have let Buffy go to Spike. She had explained she had to have a serious discussion with him, to stop him from stalking her. She had pleaded to go alone, knowing very well that Angel couldn’t refuse her. At least, not that. It had been his first mistake, letting her go without him. He had realized it quickly, and gone after her into the night. Not to spy on her, he told himself. Just to make sure she would be alright.
He had stayed by the open door, listening and watching every second of what he thought would be an argument or a fight. He had been first puzzled by her behavior, then stunned to discover Spike had made her his Childe. So stunned he hadn’t been able to do anything when her Sire had forced her to feed from him. She had been so upset about it, she had walked right by Angel as she left, and not noticed him.
His biggest mistake had been not to dust Spike. He had been so close. And yet, he hadn’t been able to make himself do it. He told himself it was because Buffy had made him promise. He understood why, now. Even with a weakened bond, the thought of losing her Sire was probably too painful for the demon to accept. He would show her she was much more than a demon. And when she saw that, she would be able to take revenge herself. He couldn’t believe what she had said about not being angry. Again that was the demon talking, not her, not his Buffy.
As he haunted Sunnydale’s cemeteries and dark alleys, his rage slowly decreased with each creature he killed. When the sky began to lighten with the promise of sunrise, he made his way back to Revello Drive. Exhausted, he spooned against an already sleeping Buffy, holding her possessively against him.