"Sir, sir. Calm down! Please, calm down."
Marlowe was wringing his hands, desperately trying to decipher his sire’s mood, which had swung from humorous to blackly violent the moment Cullum’s minions had returned to the lair with their hostages.
The young vampire immediately realised the error of his ways when he found himself pinned to the wall by a steel-like grip around his neck.
"Calm down?" Spike’s voice hissed in his ear, and Marlowe was fairly certain that if he were still human he would have pissed himself at the overt malice it contained. "What makes you think I sodding well want to calm down."
Choke. "Yurk." Marlowe flailed at the arm that held him, hauling breath in past the blockage in his throat and hoping he could get a word out before the pressure literally ripped his head off his shoulders.
As abruptly as he was lifted, he was dropped and the floor rushed up to meet his knees and head simultaneously. Consciously knowing he didn’t need to but unable to prevent it, Marlowe gasped and filled his lungs, rubbing at his neck where he could feel deep bruising already starting to form. When he came to, he raised his head and realised that the older vampire had turned away and was now leaning heavily on his desk, head bowed.
"Sir?"
"Can I trust you?"
"What?"
"I asked," Spike twisted round and glared balefully down at Marlowe, "you pathetic little twerp, if I can trust you."
Marlowe struggled to his feet, fear forgotten and his heart swelling with pride. His sire was going to entrust him with a secret. Him. Not Cullum, not one of the others, who were so much better at being demons than him. Here was the responsibility he’d always wanted, the respect he’d craved. "Yes, sir. Of course you can."
"Tonight. There’ll be a vamp there. Big, bastard. Dark hair. Not bad looking in a broody Neanderthal sort of way. He’s my Sire, Angelus. Your grandsire. I want you to find him and give him a message, okay? Tell him… tell him, it wasn’t my idea, right? I didn’t do it. Then I want you to do whatever he tells you. Whatever. Got that?"
"Yes." Marlowe was befuddled. He had no idea what Spike was talking about but pride in being asked cut through all his doubts and he thrust out his jaw in determined fashion ready to shoulder the responsibility. "Yes, sir. You can trust me," he stated.
***
"I so knew we couldn’t trust him."
The screaming matches and subsequent slamming exits that had followed Dawn and Fred’s abduction had finally ended leaving Xander and Wesley the only two of the gang still in the hostel.
Wesley was shell-shocked. Despite everything he’d read about William the Bloody, he was finding it virtually impossible to reconcile that with the man he’d come to know in LA and harder still to believe that the legendary merciless killer had returned.
"I-I thought he cared about Dawn? Why would he hurt her?"
"Because he’s an evil soulless monster, that’s why. Jeez, talk about dumb. And we fell for it." Xander ceased his pacing and slumped down on one of the beds. He was finding it easier to cope with the whole Spike going bad scenario than Wes; after all how many times had Captain Peroxide tried to kill them? But in his heart of hearts, it was still a disappointment to discover that everything he’d said to Buffy two years ago was true.
Surprisingly it was Wesley who pulled himself out of his funk first. He started pottering around the room, checking bags and pulling weapons out and laying them on the bed.
Xander watched him curiously until Wesley finally turned to him and snapped. "That being the case, don’t you think it would be a good idea to prepare, or have you forgotten we have a battle to wage tonight?"
***
PASSWORD:
The cursor blinked invitingly and Beryl glanced at her companion smiling encouragement.
"Level one password?"
Eric Markham squirmed in his seat next to the computer console. He hated himself for co-operating with the vampires but what other choice did he have? It was that or being tortured to death, and whatever the Watcher’s code may demand, Markham wasn’t ready to die.
"Umm…Andraste. A.N.D…"
"I know how to spell her name thank you. The warrior goddess of the ancient Celts - a fascinating choice as a password and deeply appropriate." She paused as the lists of files pertaining to the Uriel Project flashed up on the screen. "My goodness, this is going to take some time."
Beryl sighed before slipping a CD into the burner. "It’s a good job we have a few hours before the battle starts. I’d like to be finished and ready to leave if things don’t go our way."
***
Angel finally found her just as dusk was falling. After so many years in California he’d gotten used to being confined to the sewers during daylight hours and it had taken all his courage to venture out across the open fields so far from any sources of shade, despite Cordelia pinpointing Buffy’s exact location for him.
Buffy was sheltering from the steady drizzle under a large oak tree; knees tucked up under her chin, staring off into the middle distance. In her hands was the letter from Spike, which she’d snatched before storming out. Its crumpled condition suggested she’d reread it more than a few times.
Reminded of the time they had met over her mother’s grave, Angel remained silent and contented himself with sitting down next to her.
After several minutes Buffy said quietly, "Saturday."
Whatever was going through the slayer’s mind was beyond Angel’s comprehension so he waited for her to expand.
Which eventually she did, addressing the wind as if she were entirely alone. "The first time we met, he said he would kill me on Saturday and it’s Saturday today."
That sort of talk would only get her killed. Angel took her hand gently in his and tried to break her out of this defeatist mood. "Who says it’s got to be you, huh? You can win this. Stake him and win this, then we can all go home." The words cost Angel deeply but even he had to acknowledge that his earlier faith in Spike was probably misplaced. What other explanation could there be for kidnapping Dawn and Fred?
Buffy turned slowly as if noticing he was there for the first time and blinked back the tears sheening her eyes. When she spoke, those same tears thickened her voice and made them catch. "I can’t."
When Angel made no attempt to answer, the tears escape and trickled down her cheeks. "Not again. When I killed you it was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I-I loved you more than anything and," she swallowed painfully. "And I can’t do it again."
The implications took a couple of moments to sink in, then Angel found his voice. "You love him?"
"Did…Do." Buffy turned away again and stared up at the emerging stars. "You weren’t there. When I came back after… after I died. He was so gentle. I saw a different side of him. He’d let me talk and just… be, with him. But I hated myself so much and I turned all that hate on him. Called him things that weren’t true any more. Hadn’t been true for a while, not really. Then, when he came back to Sunnydale, I realised what he did for me. How much I’d missed him."
She subsided into silence, but Angel decided that this time he wasn’t going to allow her to keep everything to herself.
"And you tried to get back together."
Buffy smiled sadly. "Yeah, but he wouldn’t have me. All he wanted was you."
"He - Spike said that?" Angel spluttered, finding it hard to believe that Spike would have said anything about their relationship to Buffy, let alone that.
The sadness changed to wicked and Buffy’s eyes lit up a little. "Oh yeah. He gave me the down and dirty. Details and everything." At Angel’s horrified expression she laughed. "Relax. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t have to." The wistful note was back. "But he made it clear he didn’t want me. I just couldn’t see it."
"Don’t you think that means something?"
Buffy shrugged. "Like what? That I have terrible taste in men? Present company excepted… maybe."
"No. Though you’re probably right. I met Riley you know." She flashed him a faux disgusted look and he grinned before continuing. "We’re the ones who love him. So we owe it to him to end it."
***
"He’s way growly. Was he always like that?"
"Hmm?" Ruth dragged her eyes away from the calculator she was busy tapping and followed Dawn’s gaze to the door where Tahir could be seen through the glass, stalking backwards and forwards. "No. He used to be quite shy. Wouldn’t say boo to a goose."
Then, as if realising who she was talking to, Ruth swept back her curly hair and narrowed her eyes at the young human chained to the wall. "And you’d best remember he’s growly, missy. Don’t go getting him angry or he’ll bite you."
Dawn chewed on her lip to stop herself laughing. When the vampires had first burst into the hostel room and grabbed them, she’d been terrified out of her mind but these two, particularly Ruth, were so not scary. They reminded her of Clem or maybe Spike when he was trying to make her do homework.
That was what she kept telling herself anyway when she’d decided to try talking to Ruth. Somewhere in one of Buffy’s psychology books Dawn remembered reading that opening up lines of communication with one’s captors was a good idea. So, ignoring Fred’s frantic expressions to shut up and play the good prisoner, she tried again.
"What ya doing?" She asked in her best irritating voice, the one that had even set Tara’s teeth on edge.
The vampire pushed her glasses back up her nose and said blandly, "Calculating how many humans we’ll need for food when we attack the Council."
Dawn swallowed heavily. Now she remembered the rest of that theory. Talking to your captors was supposed to remind them of your humanity; possibly not the right plan of action when you were being held by vampires.
The door to their makeshift prison flew open and a familiar voice snarled, "Take a hike. All of you," from the corridor.
"Spike?!" If that was as yelpy as it sounded, she was going to be so embarrassed.
He glared at her across the room, then turned and roared out of the door. "I said, piss off. If I find one of you pricks listening in, I’ll rip your bloody heads off." More quietly, he added, "You an’ all, pet," to Ruth, who dropped her calculator and ran.
They were finally alone. Spike closed the door and stood by it, looking shifty and sort of worried.
When no one had spoken for a minute or so Dawn decided that it was going to be her call yet again. "Would you really do it?"
Spike’s head tipped to one side like an attentive puppy’s and he frowned, thrown by the question. "Come again?"
"Rip their heads off for eavesdropping, ‘cos it seems, like, way harsh."
He snorted, the patented ‘what the hell do you know little girl sound’, and snipped back, "Too right I would. Don’t want any of them listening in to this."
Fred was watching their conversation, her head going back and forth as if she were at a tennis match. Although she knew these two had been friends before Spike had his soul it was still strange to watch Dawn interact so casually with a soulless demon.
"To what?" Dawn retaliated. "The deathly silence of you wondering how to apologise for kidnapping us. Buffy is so going to kick your ass for this."
"Now just hang on a minute. I never told them to do it. And then they went and did it, and it’s a bloody mess is what it is." Spike was now obviously agitated, pacing and running his hands through his hair.
Dawn giggled. She hadn’t gotten a rise like this out of him forever.
He stopped and stared at her and it was then she realised something was off about him. Not the soul thing - she was used to a soulless Spike. It was something else. The way he was standing and walking and… not quite focussing on her.
"You yanking my chain, Bit?"
That proved it. If Spike could see her face, he wouldn’t have to ask.
"Spike, are you blind?"
"What?" He was immediately on the defensive and being such a lousy liar she could see straight through it. "What d’ya mean, blind. Don’t be daft, girl."
"Come here."
The calculator Ruth had dropped lay on the floor between Spike and where Dawn was chained. If she were right he would probably trip over it.
He did.
And measured his length in a most un-vampire-like manner, although his language more than compensated.
It was a good job no one was listening in. Trying to explain why the two prisoners were almost wetting themselves laughing would have been difficult.
***
Giles sauntered back towards the hostel, hands deep in his pockets. Outwardly he was the very picture of calm but inside he was seething. Despite the kidnapping, there was still a significant part of him that laid the blame for all of this at the Council’s feet. How could they have been so stupid as to remove Spike’s soul? And now they had absolutely no choice. He would have to be slain, although it was more akin to putting down an old pet that had gone mad - for him anyway. God only knew how Buffy would cope. Maybe he could persuade her to let Faith do it.
"Giles?" Willow stepped from the portico that covered the hostel entrance. "I need to speak to you."
He stopped and stared at her, still somewhat absorbed in his thoughts. "Yes?"
"Inside." She turned and led the way into the common room where Sammy was sitting by the fire in one of the more comfortable chairs. Willow perched next to her and Giles grabbed another for himself.
"After everyone left, we - we started discussing Spike’s soul. And Sammy thinks there’s a good chance of putting it back. But there’s a problem."
At the risk of being predictable, Giles took off his glasses and cleaned them. "Of what nature?" He asked tiredly. When wasn’t there a problem?
"We’d both need to be touching him to do it. It’s something to do with the jewel that Sammy used. It’s not like the Orb of Thessulah. They’re… kinda fragile actually. This thing will need a real kick of power to work."
"So you’re suggesting we capture Spike rather than stake him."
Willow glanced at Sammy and then nodded.
"I fail to see the problem then. You captured Angelus rather efficiently didn’t you?"
"Well, you see. That’s the problem. Actually two problems or maybe just one depending on how you look at it."
"Willow," Giles thought he might give a tiny scream of frustration. "Please. Tell me what the problem is."
"I can’t do both. It would take too much power. Plus I’d need his true name if I was gonna bind him… So I thought if maybe Buffy could catch him and then we could chain him up, like that time in your bathtub and then we could…"
"Willow! Please!" Okay not a scream, more like a bark.
The witch shrivelled like a punctured balloon and Giles sighed. She must be nervous to be babbling like this and snapping at her really wouldn’t help.
"If we could capture him, are you sure you can return his soul? And, please, be certain before you answer. I will not have you putting Buffy’s life in danger on a whim."
Once again Willow glanced at Sammy and this time it was the old woman that spoke.
"It will be strong magic." She reached out and took Willow’s hand. "But my daughter is also strong. It can be done."
Her dark eyes burned with power and Giles had the disconcerting feeling she was seeing straight through to his soul. He shivered, then nodded decisively.
"We’ll do it. Or try at least." He got to his feet and glanced over at the door where he could hear voices. "You two do whatever you need to prepare. I’ll see if I can find Buffy and Faith and we’ll try and thrash out a battle plan."
With that, he left.
***
"No way in hell am I trying anything with that."
The three vampires stared into the pen containing, barely, an adolescent Suvolte demon.
"They’re frellin’ eating machines is what they are. And they’re none too fussy about what they chomp down on either."
Cullum went to punch the glass door and thought better of it, snapping at Nick instead. "Are any of the non-sentients useful, ‘cos I’m starting to think you’re nothing but a waste of bloody space." The last was snarled into the smaller vampire’s face.
"Give it a rest, Cullum." Lara pushed between them and shoved them forcibly apart. "If you want a pissing contest I suggest you find someone your own size."
The leggy blonde turned to Nick, who was glaring at his boots, his lips moving soundlessly. "Well?"
"There’s a pack of hellhounds in bay six." He muttered. "I can do something with them if I start now."
"Right," she nodded, "You get started on that. Cullum and I’ll go and brief the rest." She turned scorching black eyes on her superior and added, cuttingly. "If you can manage that without resorting to hitting any of them."
He snarled at her, but backed away and stalked off without further argument.
***
Spike sat miserably, head in hands, on the floor between Fred and Dawn.
"So, the idea was to get Buffy to come here and fight you and then change sides."
"Yeah. And it was a good plan an’ all, until those stupid gits decided to kidnap you two." With a sigh he dropped his head back against the wall and stared up at nothing.
Fred eased around trying to find a more comfortable position for her shoulder and commented, "Didn’t you have a backup? I’ve always found that the best idea when you’re in a difficult situation is to have at least one backup plan. That way if anything goes wrong you don’t hafta necessarily die."
Spike shot her an exasperated glare, out of focus and slightly off to one side. "No, I didn’t have a backup plan because nothing was going to go sodding wrong. It was a good plan. Simple but ingenious."
"Maybe it could still work? When Buffy arrives tell her what happened and then change sides."
"Would that be before or after she sticks a bit of wood in my chest?" He shook his head, back to being miserable. "It may have escaped your notice, pet, but the Slayer and me aren’t exactly on speaking terms at the moment."
"Never mind, Spike. I’m sure it will work out all right in the end." Dawn did her best to sound optimistic, despite the circumstances. And why was she consoling him anyway? It was his stupid offspring that had gotten them here in the first place.
"So," She asked with false levity, "What exactly were you thinking when you made these other vampires? ‘Cos inquiring minds would love to know," her voice dropped to a growl, "exactly what freakin’ planet you thought you were on?"
***
"Okay, Mr. Travers. Time to earn your keep." Xander untied the Head Watcher and escorted him down to the common room.
In the main hallway they passed Giles having an urgent conversation with a man Xander didn’t recognise. The man stared at them oddly as they walked past and then started talking and gesticulating again, keeping his voice low enough that only one or two words escaped.
"…God’s sake, Rupert. Three days! I’ve had to cancel bookings. People keep asking…"
Guess that was the owner then.
The rest of the gang were waiting for them and, once Travers was safely ensconced in another chair, Buffy came to stand in front of him, her arms folded across her chest.
"Tell me what other demons are there."
His eyes flickered around the room, from one person to the next. In each he found the same expression - cold disinterest in his fate. Were these really the good guys?
"Um. There could be many types there. The Council often finds it necessary to capture such creatures for further research, however the full inventory of the holding pens is contained on computer in the centre itself."
"Is it hackable?" The witch asked him.
He shook his head. "I’m afraid not. Security measures demand that such information is protected from the world at large."
"In other words, you don’t know diddly-shit." Travers cringed at the crudity spilling from Faith’s mouth and again rued the day she had ever been called. Not only was the girl a rogue, she was uncivilised and was, by all accounts, somewhat free with her affections.
"Any information is perforce out of date, however I shall endeavour to be of assistance. When I was last at the centre there were several young vampires, aside from those we re-ensouled. Unfortunately, it is difficult to be more accurate as to their number; we do have something of a high attrition rate in that species. There were also a pack of seven hell hounds, a six month old Suvolte, four Fyarl of the sub-genus Enderii, a mated pair of Lur-ites, a…"
"Enough." Buffy snapped. She turned to Giles, who had just returned from the entrance hall. "Did you hear any of that? It’s not just Spike and his cronies, there’s going to be a freakin’ army out there."
He sighed and sat down, rubbing his face tiredly. "Buffy, I realise this is difficult, but please try not to panic. You’ve dealt with hellhounds before, and Fyarl Enderii are smaller and less aggressive than their cousins."
Angel came to stand behind her and rubbed her arms, offering what comfort he could. She accepted his touch for a few moments then shrugged him off, slipping back into General mode.
"Fine. Then this is what we’re doing. First, Spike’s mine. I don’t want anyone getting in our way.
"Faith? Xander? Rescuing Dawn and Fred is our number one priority. Take Travers with you. He can get you through security. Cordelia, I want to know exactly where they are in there. The quicker you find them, the quicker Faith and Xander can get them out.
"Wesley? Gunn? You’ll fight together. At least you two will be used to it. Giles? Can you back Angel up, ‘cos Willow’s going to be off doing the mojo with Sammy?"
"Buffy?" Giles interrupted. "I hesitate to suggest this but you should consider allowing Faith to fight Spike…"
"No!" She didn’t even let him finish. "He’s my responsibility, Giles. Mine or Angel’s. No offence, Faith."
Faith, shrugged and stretched. "No beef, B. You and him have got way too much history for me to get in the mix. Just, try and take him down, yeah? Not out. Give Red here a chance to fix him."
Buffy smiled at her, possibly the first genuine smile she’d ever given her sister slayer, and held out her hand. Faith took it tentatively and returned the tight squeeze round her fingers as Buffy said. "Between us he won’t stand a chance. His soul will be back in so fast it’ll make his fangs rattle."
***
Simone checked over the emergency first aid kits she’d helped pack and then asked Jamie, who was busy unwrapping dressings for a makeshift field hospital, "Will ten be sufficient?"
He glanced over at her and frowned. "Should be. They’re fer emergencies only and I can’t imagine we’d be pulling out with more than ten."
As he got back to work, Simone moved on to her next task; checking the assortment of guns and crossbows Lara had left with them for self-defence. She hoped they wouldn’t need them. Granted she was a vampire and when she got irritable, her mood made PMTs feel like a walk in the park, but as a human Simone had been an active anti-hunt campaigner and now she was dead some of those deep-seated beliefs had stayed with her. Hunting purely for sport was morally unjustifiable. She refused to be that sort of animal and would not sink to the level of slaughtering people she had no intention of eating.
With any luck the others would dispose of the intruders and she wouldn’t have to sully her hands with any dirty work.
***
"How come I’m stuck down here with you, then?" Raimes whinged as he followed the witch down into the zoo.
Silver bit back the snide riposte that immediately sprung to mind, shifted her pack of supplies further onto her shoulder and replied reasonably, "Because I need an extra pair of hands to break the wards if we need to retreat this way. And you have training in meditation and the channelling of power."
"There’s others. Marlowe’s bit of stuff, Caroline for one. She’s better than me at channelling."
"Yes, you’re right…"
Raimes interrupted, hardly taking a breath. "Nick’s pretty good too, and Tahir’s no slouch."
Finally her temper deserted her. Silver slammed her bag to the ground and spun round to face him. Raimes took one look at her expression and started to back off.
With a single word and gesture she stopped him, the relief at still being able to do so no longer startling. It had been explained when she’d presented herself as a candidate that her connections to magic may be gone when she rose. A high level of training and competency made it a worthwhile risk and it was one Silver had willingly taken.
She cocked her head, studying the little man in front of her. It would be so easy to rip out his heart. A satisfying taste of the darkness she’d faithfully contained since coming over. But then who would be her second?
With a snort she dismissed and released him, watching impassively as his knees buckled and he sank to the floor. Better to control him with a sharp word than violence.
"None of the others wanted you, Raimes. You’re an annoying little squirt who’s no more prepossessing as a vampire than you were as a human."
***
The huge sheet of paper covered the table top from edge to edge and on it, drawn in characters of multicoloured ink, was the troop deployment Marlowe and Spike had settled on for the upcoming battle.
Cullum gave it a final once over noting with quiet satisfaction that all the souled vampires except himself, Nicky and Chris had been sidelined. To all intents and purposes Spike had handed the running of the battle over into the most capable subordinates. It showed an awareness of his own condition that Cullum could find nothing but gratifying.
Of the others, Tahir and Ruth were assigned to guarding the prisoners and Beryl to downloading any useful files in case retreat became a necessity. Their route out in such an emergency was through the tunnels and Silver and Frank Raimes had the job of ensuring they were safe and undefended.
Jamie was already busy setting up a temporary field hospital and Simone, who had some medical training, was helping. Every weapon in the armoury had been stripped down and oiled up courtesy of Lara, and she was to hang back during the battle and act as quartermaster. Plus it left her free to send a termination message to Tahir if Spike went down. Cullum had made it clear to anyone who would listen that the prisoners would not survive Spike’s death.
Marlowe himself had a fluid role, somewhere between runner and standard bearer, which suited Cullum down to the ground. It would keep the snivelling little wretch out from under his feet and leave the fighting to the real demons.
Twenty unsouled vampires, six demons and a pack of hellhounds constituted the foot troops, and they had but a single purpose. To keep the Slayer’s allies busy while Spike went for his hat trick. His sire had incredible insight into exactly who would be fighting them, shown to him in a vision. Two Watchers, two humans - not to be underestimated, they were both experienced vampire hunters - a witch, a vampire and two Slayers. With Nicky guiding the hell hounds to annihilate the witch, Tom leading the demons against the Watchers and himself heading up the vampires it would be a short if bloody affair.
***
Swirling gusts of drizzle cast a miserable damp chill in the air and rainbow shades glistened from the water droplets where they were caught in the glare of the floodlights. The concrete was slick, felt oily underfoot and several complaints about the less than ideal fighting conditions were grumbled out.
The demons went on immediate alert as, from the darkness surrounding the entrance, five figures materialised, spacing out in head and horns formation. Pryce and Gunn, the vampire hunter, held the right flank, with the left boasting Rupert Giles and Angelus already suited up. The blonde slayer stood proud, front and centre.
She was answering the challenge.
Five? Who was missing? The other Slayer, the witch and the human sidekick. No matter, he could send the hellhounds out to hunt them down. Cullum flicked his eyes over the assembled troops. Time for a quick rethink. He’d assumed the Watchers would fight together and had envisaged them as the weak link. Disposing of them would have left the demons as free agents, ready to chip in wherever they were needed.
Decision made, he quickly directed the demons to focus on Angelus and Rupert Giles, unwilling to pit his young vampires against a Master this early in the game. As his shock troops, he would lead them against the right flank, remove that inconsequential threat in short order and then rejoin the others.
Nick corralled the hellhounds waiting for the opportunity to slip by and set off tracking the missing attackers. Thompson, heading up the small gang of sentient demons they had persuaded to join them, split from the party, pushing out to the right, ready for the order to attack.
First there were the formalities to address.
"Slayer!"
Buffy’s head shot round at the greeting and she spotted a familiar blond figure step confidently forward to face her.
"Spike." She nodded contemptuously at the assorted demons and vampires that filled the yard. "Sunk back to your natural level. Could you be any more pathetic?"
The vampire shrugged. "Limited resources, pet. You know how it is." He returned her contempt indicating the backup she’d brought along.
Buffy took a couple of moments to consider her old enemy. She could do this. The demon in front of her wasn’t the same one she’d seduced a few months ago. That undiluted air of bravado and hyper-aggression was back, full-force. A master vampire in his prime, the Slayer of Slayers, her old nemesis; facing him again sent a frisson of excitement through her.
For his part, Spike was fighting a losing battle already. Having eschewed feeding before the confrontation in the hopes of keeping his demon quiet, her scent and the sound of her voice was causing it to stir. This is what he was created for, to take down these arrogant girls in a violent flurry of fists and fangs, and the promise of his long desired hat-trick was going to be difficult to resist.
Sharp pain from a sucker punch to his nose, blossoming across his face had the demon roaring and her words simply added fuel to the fire as she slipped back out of reach.
"Ready to dance, Spikey? ‘Cos really, you’re beneath me."
With that William was in the passenger seat and the demon was firmly in control. The words he’d promised himself not to use, still burning hotly from their last encounter, wrenched from his mind and spilling from his tongue as he moved in to attack.
"Yeah. Beneath you, on top of you. Making you beg. Making you scream. Like a bit of the old cold comfort, don’t you, Slayer?"
On the upside, it looked like the demon didn’t having any problems working out where the hell everything was. Running on instinct alone and without all those pesky human worries about eyesight, Spike suddenly realised he really was at the top of his game. No longer curtailed by the chip or his soul, well fed on human blood, he hadn’t felt this good in years.
A storm of punches exchanged and both backed off for the proverbial breather, circling each other and probing for the next opportunity to attack.
"Spike…" Buffy started.
"Yeah, yeah. I’m a pig. Guess that makes you the muck I rolled in."
Her eyes narrowed at that and battle was finally joined in earnest. The need for insults and quips dismissed in favour of total focus on the fight, each realising that this was the moment they had been hurtling towards for years.
Buffy’s head snapped back as a fist connected with her chin, leaving her ears ringing. She went with it into a back flip, then a duck and roll bringing her up inside Spike’s defences. Using her right arm as a prop, she planted a solid double-footed kick to his abdomen that sent him flying ten feet back into the fence.
He rose with a roar, now proudly in game face and instinctively her grip on the stake tightened as she waited for him to attack again.
She wasn’t disappointed and he was on her in moments with another series of punches aimed at her head and torso that she blocked easily.
**
Giles swung low with the silver blade he was carrying and heard an answering scream as it neatly eviscerated one of the Fyarls. Stepping backwards to avoid the sledgehammer fist aimed at his head, he almost went down over the corpse of one of the Lu-rites Angel had beheaded. The stumble became a duck and he came up hard, plunging the blade deep into the flesh under the chin of the demon. It didn’t even squeal just sagged onto the knife, impaling itself deeper until Giles’ fingers were tangled in foetid flesh.
As he paused to take stock, Giles spotted a pack of hellhounds trying to cut round behind them towards the entrance where Willow and Sammy were preparing the spell.
"Angel!"
The vampire glanced up from the other Lur-ite he had in a secure headlock, and acknowledged the potential threat. With a quick twist the demon was dead and Angel took off after the hounds.
On the other flank, Cullum was discovering that Pryce and Gunn were far from the easy ride he was expecting. The humans worked as a pair instinctively and the air around them was thick with dust. His troops were being systematically destroyed.
"Regroup!" God, he hoped no one else heard the note of panic in his voice. This was going really wrong, really quickly. What should have been a bloodbath was rapidly becoming a walkover for the other side.
**
From the sidelines, Marlowe noticed Angelus leave the fray in pursuit of the hounds and slipped off after him intent on delivering Spike’s message. Just the other side of the gate he melted back into the shadows as three figures crept silently past. The other Slayer, and two human men - one quite young, the other grey haired and sweating profusely.
He paused to watch them, unsure of whether to interfere or to continue his task. Loyalty won out over curiosity and he scented the air, picking out Angelus and the hellhounds with ease.
Twenty feet later, Marlowe was lifted off his feet and, while he dangled like a kitten, a voice hissed in his ear. "Give me one good reason why I haven’t dusted you yet?"
So that was where Spike got it from; the short temper, bad attitude and tendency to manhandle first and ask questions later.
"Angelus?"
There was no answer, just another shake that set Marlowe’s teeth rattling in his skull.
"M-message f-from S-Spike." The words were expelled from his mouth in time with the violent jolting and they earned him a twelve-inch drop to the ground.
Surprisingly, the vampire he confronted was about his height but he exuded power and when he spoke the words had an edge of command Marlowe had only heard once before. This was a master vampire who expected to be obeyed.
"Tell me."
"Umm… Spike said I was to find you and say, it wasn’t his idea, he didn’t do it and then I was to do whatever you told me to…sir."
Angel spun away from the young vampire, then glared back at him as a reminder to stay put. What the hell did Spike mean, ‘it wasn’t his idea’? Dawn? This battle? The challenge to the slayer? Having his soul removed?
A shrill cry splitting the night reminded him what he was supposed to be doing and he turned to his grandchilde, eyeing him quizzically and with a hint of amusement. Time to give someone the benefit of the doubt.
"How do feel about hellhounds, boy?"
"Can’t stand the smell personally, sir." Marlowe grinned.
**
"They’re down here."
Xander jumped and spun round, thumping his elbow soundly into the solid wall, which reverberated up and down the deserted corridor. "Jesus, Cordy! Don’t do that."
"Shush." Faith shot him a filthy look. "You wanna bring them down on us? Get a grip, Xander." She turned her attentions to the ghost. "Where?"
"Through the next set of security doors and left. I couldn’t go in, they’d have seen me but I think there’s two vamps guarding them."
Faith grabbed Travers by his lapel and dragged him forwards, shoving him towards the security lock. "Cool. Time for yer next outing, Mr. Watcher."
It was soon released and the three of them passed through the door, Xander jamming in a wooden block to prevent it closing, as he had done with all the others they had opened.
Done, he turned back to the others with a nod. "Let’s go kick us some vamp ass."
**
Blinking away the sting of blood from her eyes Buffy flicked her head irritably and stalked after Spike. This was getting beyond a joke. He wouldn’t stop. She’d beaten him down ten times as badly as ever before and he kept getting back up for more. If she didn’t know him better, she’d say he was waiting for her to stake him. At least three times she’d left an opening that the old Spike would have taken like a shot and nothing, nada.
So if he wasn’t trying to kill her and she wasn’t trying to kill him, just what in hell were they playing at?
**
"Give them here, you little jerk."
"No fucking way." Tahir backed off, keeping a healthy distance between him and the furious slayer. "Spike told me to hold the keys and protect them with my life. I’d rather die than let you have them." He finished with false bravado, then yelped and ran when she attacked.
Faith cursed liberally, and flew after him, the door swinging wildly in her wake.
"Don’t stake her! Don’t stake her!"
Halting his stake mid-plunge into the cowering vampire’s heart, Xander gaped incredulously at Dawn and Fred, sure he was mishearing them. Both victims of an evil kidnapping plot? Check. Both still chained to the wall of a vampire’s lair? Check. Both pleading for the vampire’s life? Not so much.
"What-a-what now?"
"She has been kinda nice. Making sure we had drinks and weren’t too uncomfortable and, you know, not scaring us, at all really. Well, except maybe for the whole logistics thing but I guess that’s only natural and all, what with her being a vampire."
Xander straightened up, his gaze darting between his friends and the evil, soulless, fiend… Ah. And thereby hangs the rub - as it were.
"You have a soul?" He asked the young woman… Err, vampire huddled on the ground.
She blinked up at him, swallowed visibly and nodded.
"Got ‘em." Faith wandered back in, swinging a set of keys and brushing her clothes clean of the uncooperative Tahir’s dust. And immediately set about releasing the prisoners.
While Fred and Dawn were busy restoring some circulation to their limbs, she joined Xander as he continued to stare uncomprehendingly at the vampire he had… what? Captured?
"What ya doin’?"
He pointed down at her. "She has a soul."
Faith shrugged, "And?"
"I can’t dust her if she’s got a soul. Plus she didn’t attack me she just screamed and tried to hide."
Not trying to conceal her smirk, Faith commented, "Wicked. Reckon we can get Red to re-soul all of them. It’d make patrol a damn sight easier." She turned her attention to the vampire. "Bet Spike’s real proud o’ you, girl. Taking it like a trooper."
She held out her hand, "Name’s Faith, Slayer. One of two. You?"
The vampire, glasses askew and permed hair wildly disarrayed, looked scared, then confused, then smiled very hesitantly and took the proffered hand. "Ruth Thomas. Stenographer."
"Steno-what?"
"Just call me a glorified secretary."
**
The last of the hellhounds fell dead from Nick’s hands and he squatted down to catch his breath, condemning himself for such a stupidly human reaction.
All three vampires were nursing nasty bites and scratches from the brief and bloody battle; a task made easier once Nick had thrown his lot in with his sib and grandsire. One glance at the way they fought side by side convinced him that theirs was the winning team and all thoughts of loyalty flew from his mind.
Marlowe, hawking and spitting on his hands and knees nearby, was worst off, blood leaking from both ears and nose after being smacked into a tree.
Willow dropped the protective shield she’d thrown up and smiled wanly at Angel, faint lines of fatigue already marring her face.
"Are you gonna be alright? To do the spell?" he asked.
Her smile became more game and less tired as she answered. "Sure. I might prefer a good night’s sleep but hey, where’s the fun if you don’t give those limits a good pushing, right?"
From a distance the sounds of combat continued to rise and Angel cast longing eyes in that direction.
Willow slapped him on the shoulder and chuckled. "Go on, we’ll be fine. Just don’t let them kill each other, huh?"
With a grin, Angel turned to the other two vampires and without further fanfare all three disappeared back towards the centre.
**
After playing catcher’s mitt for both vampire and Slayer umpteen times, the chain-link fence finally collapsed and Spike flew out of the yard, demolishing a metal road sign as he landed.
It took him longer than the typical couple of seconds to get to his feet after that one - a cracked rib or two will do that to a bloke - and the Slayer’s fists were starting to do some serious damage. But Buffy was tiring, quickly. If he could just survive the punishment until all of Cullum’s troops were dead and Lara was out of the picture, maybe he could wrestle control back from his demon and surrender. Hopefully avoiding a good staking while he did so.
**
It unfolded like a slow painful nightmare.
Faith, emerging from the lit doorway of the centre, thrust her stake into Cullum’s chest and through the dispersing dust Dawn appeared, Buffy’s name falling from her lips.
Her sister turned, startled, slipped on the slick concrete and exposed her neck.
In half a heartbeat her arms were pinned to her sides and Spike’s fangs were striking into her jugular.
Alerted by her cry, Wesley spun, and instinctively punched out at the vampire’s back. His sudden movement jarring loose the concealed spring-loaded stake, which plunged forwards - directly into Spike’s heart.