Chapter One
Spike and Drusilla casually walked through Prague's tiled streets, hands intertwined as the moonlight cast a gentle glow over the loving couple. Spike stopped and turned towards Dru, lovingly wiping a smear of blood off the side of her slightly opened mouth. He smiled, remembering how they indulged in a terrified woman moments ago, which always made dinner so much more delicious. The louder she screamed, the deeper Dru's teeth sunk into her skin, causing the girl immense pain, enhancing the kill.
Dru grabbed his hand and nestled it within her own. Spike gazed at his sire adoringly. Dru had saved him from the misery of his human life, where he'd been a mockery of London's upper-class society and brought him into the shadows with her. Now, he was known throughout the world as one of the most vicious vampires on record. He'd made something of himself, something to be proud of. No longer was he William Pratt, bloody awful poet. He was Spike, William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers. And all because of his dark princess. She was where he belonged. His salvation. His black goddess. His love.
Spike brought her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles softly.
"We're only staying here a bit longer, luv," he said. "And in a few weeks, this town will burn."
Dru giggled. "A pretty fire!"
"Where to after?" he asked. "Italy? France? Brazil?"
Dru took her hands out of his grasp and began clapping happily. "Oh, yes! France would make me happy!"
"France it is," he replied.
Grabbing her hand, they continued down the abandoned street. There were no signs of life anywhere, which was unusual for Prague. No noisy cars or loud people conversing. Spike looked around, feeling that something was off. Prague shouldn't be this quiet on a warm Saturday night.
"Wonder where everybody–AHH!" Spike screamed as he fell to the ground; an arrow penetrated him through his back, close to his heart. He turned around and looked at an angry mob of people holding torches, crossbows, even guns. Reaching behind his back, he pulled the arrow out with a pained hiss and moved towards the crowd, ready to unleash his fury. Before he could take another step, bullets began shooting at him, hitting him in the legs and chest.
"Bloody hell!" he shouted.
"Zaplatíš za to, co jsi udělal, upíre!" the leader yelled.
Spike watched as eyes turned towards Dru, as if just now noticing she was there. Pushing through the pain, he stood up taller and pushed her behind him, protecting her from any oncoming bullets or arrows. With a roar, he charged at the mob. Half of them ran away once they saw his face turn into its true form. The loyal men that stayed put up a good fight but were no match for his strength. He snapped necks and killed them with their weapons in a matter of minutes. Just as he was about to kill the last one, he halted, hearing Dru call out his name, frightened.
"Spike!"
He turned around and watched as five men dragged his dark princess down the street. Blood covered her white dress, no doubt having caught multiple wounds during the fight. Just as he was about to run after her, another gun went off behind him, shooting him in both legs numerous times. He collapsed to the ground in immense pain, trying to crawl towards Dru with no success as the wounds he'd received began to weaken him severely. The last thing he saw was Dru crying out to him before the world went dark.
For the next two weeks, Spike tore Prague apart in his efforts to find Dru with little success. It was a bloodbath the city would never forget. He could feel that she was still alive through his sire bond, but any trace of her that should've been in that street was gone. He trailed the path her scent had gone down initially–where the mob dragged her–only to stop when coming to an abandoned alley, any signs of her beyond that point vanishing. As if she'd disappeared into thin air. Her captors being able to hide her scent from his sensitive nose somehow. Once he realized he wasn't getting anywhere by following her scent, he tried another way of finding his sire.
Spike walked up the path to the old witch's tent; he usually didn't trust witches–having had too many bad experiences in the past–but he was desperate enough to try anything. Anything to get his black goddess back at his side.
The old witch was in the middle of mixing ingredients when he entered.
"Vampire," she acknowledged. "You have come to seek answers regarding your lover's whereabouts."
Spike rolled his eyes. Bloody know-it-all witches. He threw a roll of money on the table and sat opposite her. "Heard you were the best in town. For your sake, you better hope they're right," he said, leaving the threat open.
The older woman smiled, not intimidated. "I cannot give you the answers you want to hear, only the ones you need to hear."
Spike frowned. "What the bloody hell does that mean?"
She began throwing herbs into her concoction. "In time, you will understand. Do you have something of hers?"
He handed over one of Dru's shirts. He'd gotten it for her last year for their anniversary, even took it off a young virgin girl. It was Dru's favorite meal. She'd appreciated him going out of his way to get her something special. Christ, he missed those days.
The witch ripped a small piece of the sleeve off and threw it in the bowl. Grabbing his hands, she placed his palms towards the ceiling and began chanting. As the witch worked her mojo, Spike clenched his teeth as his pants rubbed against the still healing bullet wounds inflicted upon him from the mob. He'd come across plenty of half-witted humans in his time, but the ones from the mob knew what they were doing. The bullets were wooden. And with little to no rest, they were healing slowly. But he'd rather be in physical pain than emotional, not wanting to live on without Dru.
"Interesting," the witch said after a few minutes of chanting. "There is no trace of her. Whoever has her is extraordinarily strong, too strong for me."
Spike grew annoyed with the lack of answers, ready to snap the older woman's head off.
She stood up and wiped her hands off on her dress. "I can't help you find her," she said. "But I know where you have to start."
"What does that mean?" he asked.
"You must search out a man that goes by the name Bane Windu. You can find him in Sunnydale, California. Only he can help you find your sire."
"You want me to travel across the bleeding world when Dru is trapped here in Prague?" he snarled.
"I never said she was in Prague; her presence here is weak. She could be anywhere in the world by now," she replied, her temper starting to flare. "The quickest way to find your love is first to find Mr. Windu. That's all I know."
He rubbed his hand over his face; the past few weeks had worn him out. "What is he? A warlock?"
"No, he's something different."
Knowing he wasn't going to get any clear answers from her, he stood up and grabbed back his money, waving it in her face. "Since you were useless, I'm taking this back."
The witch smiled. "Find him, and he'll lead you to your love, but you must remember to let go of the past and embrace your new destiny. It wasn't supposed to happen this way, but it's done, and you must now create a divergent future from what was to what will be."
Spike began to walk out, sick of listening to the older woman talk in riddles, then stopped. Turning back around, he walked over and snapped the useless witch's neck before she could even react; her body fell to the floor with a thump. He left the tent in a rage. He could try to find another witch in the city that could help him, but he was running out of time and couldn't afford to waste it by going to them all. Growling, he slammed his fist into the nearest tree. And what the bloody hell did the witch mean by 'it wasn't supposed to happen this way? Couldn't they stop talking in bloody circles for once and speak clearly? Frustrated with the lack of answers, he knew he had only one choice left.
Tomorrow he'd leave Prague and head for Sunnydale, California.
Three days later, Spike was driving down the road in his beloved DeSoto. After getting off the plane, his first stop was to receive his car from the storage unit it'd been in. It'd been years since he'd been back in the States, not being much of a fan of America. He preferred staying on the other side of the world. The people were friendlier and made for easier prey. For years he'd wanted to revisit Sunnydale–the world's largest Hellmouth–but never found time to do it. Without his sire, his demon felt weakened and could use the boost of evil energy that came from underneath.
Spike smirked as he saw the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign ahead. Pressing his foot harder on the gas pedal, his car quickly slammed into the sign, knocking it down as it came to a screeching stop. He opened his door and stepped out, closing it behind him as he took two steps forward, cigarette dangling from his mouth, taking in his surroundings. His demon was already starting to calm with the Hellmouth's evil aura gently enveloping him. He could adjust to it. Maybe when he had Dru back, they could settle here for a bit. Smirking, he took a drag of his fag. "Home sweet home."
The last time Spike had been in Sunnydale–over forty years ago–there had been a demon bar called Willy's in what people considered the bad part of town. If you paid the man enough money, he'd be willing to fish over any information you needed. They called him Willy the Snitch, a double-crossing greedy human. The bar was a neutral place, where demons, vampires, and humans were all welcomed. Although, most humans that were smart knew to stay away unless they were witches or warlocks. Or a Slayer. Spike stared at the small man before him. The old man must've passed the bar down to his grandson, he thought. The Willy he remembered would've been in his eighties by now.
Willy put a napkin down on the bar. "What can I get for ya?"
Spike held up a roll of money in his hand. "Information."
Willy nodded and leaned on the bar. "What kind?"
"Looking for a guy that goes by the name Bane Windu," Spike replied. "I need to know who he is, what he is, and where I can find him."
Willy looked around the bar to make sure nobody was listening, then whispered, "Yeah, I might've heard of him. He's only been in Sunnydale for about a month. Supposed to be into some dark magic."
"A warlock?" Spike asked.
"Yes, but I think he might be something else, too. Look, all I know is that he's not in the record books anywhere. Nobody knows anything about him. The only reason I know what I do is because he came in here a few weeks ago for a drink, got himself into some trouble with a few demons, and next thing I know, they're flying in the air, and then they explode! It took me a week to clean that mess up." Willy shook his head in disgust. "I don't know, man. I've seen powerful creatures in here before, but that was a whole other level powerful. He had the entire bar shaken up; you know how hard it is to scare these guys?"
Spike looked around the room at the demons that littered the bar. A variety of species. Strong ones. The Hellmouth seemed to attract the worst of the worst.
Spike turned back to Willy. "Do you know where I can find him?"
"I wouldn't if–" Spike's warning growl cut him off. Willy sighed and took a pen from his pocket, writing something down on the napkin. "Here's an address. But I'd be cautious if I were you."
Spike threw the money on the table and grabbed the napkin as he walked towards the entrance.
"Hey, I don't think I caught your name?" Willy asked.
He turned around and replied, "Spike."
All the demons in the bar turned their heads towards him as he announced his name. Knowing who he was and his reputation. Even Willy's eyes bulged a little. Satisfied that he was able to scare the demon community with his presence in Sunnydale, he turned around and strolled out of the bar, heading towards the place of the guy who could hopefully return Dru to his side.
Spike stood outside the mansion before him, unsure how to continue. If what Willy said was right, and this Bane Windu fellow was powerful, then it wouldn't be in his best interest to walk in there half-cocked without a plan. He was known for his recklessness and had been his entire existence–aside from his human years–why would he stop now? It's not like he had time to waste. Coming to a decision, he turned the doorknob and was surprised to find it unlocked.
Walking inside, he followed the path into an ample open space and a room full of vampires that turned his way when he entered.
"Well, this is just... neat," he said, looking around at the vampires that wore identical matching all-black uniforms.
His eyes turned towards the black-haired, middle-aged, tanned man on the far end of the room, seated in a big leathered chair. The vampires were separated between the room, hands behind their backs, as they looked straight ahead, leaving a trail to walk up to who he'd assume was Bane Windu.
"William the Bloody. I've been expecting you."
Spike's eyebrows rose in shock. "Have you?"
Bane nodded and stood. "You need my help finding your sire. Well, you're in luck because I'm feeling generous today."
Spike watched wearily as Bane walked towards him. "You can help me?"
"Yes, but I don't do anything for free."
"How much are you charging?" Spike asked, grabbing money out of his pocket.
Bane laughed; it echoed off the room. "I don't mean cash."
Spike put the money back in his pocket and leaned forward. "You need me to kill a beastie for you, then?"
Bane stopped before him, his hand gracing his chin as if deep in thought. "I do need your help in eliminating a potential threat. But it's not as easy as you'd expect. It can't be done by just killing her."
"Her?" Spike asked, confused.
"You'd be able to help me more than anyone else. You are the Slayer of Slayers, after all," Bane noted.
The pieces began to come together slowly, and Spike couldn't help but smirk. Maybe coming to this Bane fellow wasn't a bad idea. He could get Dru back and kill a Slayer at the same time. It could be a win-win situation.
"You've got Slayer problems. That is a bad piece of luck. It's a good thing I've killed a couple in my time," Spike said confidently.
"So it is, William the Bloody," Bane replied. "But as I've said before, it's not that simple."
Spike became frustrated with the ridiculous riddles. Everybody seemed eager to be talking about in the last two weeks.
"I can see the future. Bits and pieces. And one vision that keeps coming to me is my immediate death at the hands of the Slayer. Now, I cannot let that happen." Bane began walking around the room. "The current Slayer is in Brazil. She won't last long; a vampire kills her before she even makes it to two months. And I'm going to make sure that doesn't happen."
"You want to keep her alive?" Spike asked, confused. If the Slayer were a threat to Bane's existence, then why would he want to keep her alive? And why the hell would Bane think he'd help prevent a Slayer's death? He was the Slayer of Slayers, not the bloody Slayer protector.
"Yes, because that Slayer is not the one that worries me. The one that I have to watch out for is a young girl named Buffy Summers."
Spike almost laughed in his face. This powerful creature everyone was afraid of feared a little girl named Buffy. And what idiot would name their kid that ridiculous name?
Bane continued walking around the room, stopping to look at his vampire soldiers along the way, casually dusting off specs of debris on one's uniform. "There are some... events I'd like to happen before Buffy Summers is called. They must play out a certain way if I want my plans to succeed. I need somebody that I can trust to look after her, to make sure she doesn't die because when she does become the Slayer, I will reprimand her and take her captive before the Watchers Council can let her know of her destiny. Without knowing of her powers, she will be my prisoner for the rest of her life, and the world would be Slayerless–until she dies of old age, of course–giving demons free run of the new world."
Spike couldn't stop the sudden laughter that erupted from within. Bane scowled. Wiping away the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes, he said, "That has to be the dumbest plan I've ever heard. Can't you just kill the bitch? You said so yourself; she's the only Slayer you're worried about. Who cares if another is called?"
"I think you forget that I can see the future, Spike," Bane spat. "I need her alive. I need certain events to happen in case the Council gets to her before I do. A Slayer is always around fucking things up and keeping the balance between good and evil in the world. If I locked Buffy Summers away for the rest of her life, there would be no Slayer to stop our domination of the world. The balance would finally tip in our favor. And we could keep the cycle going for every girl that is Called after."
"And when the time comes for the current Slayer to die," Bane added. "I'll let you be the one to do it."
That sobered Spike up quickly. "Oh, all right then. Sounds good to me," he replied calmly. "Can you bring back Dru so we can get started on that?"
He honestly didn't give a fuck about Bane's plans for world domination. It was a horrible idea, and he happened to like this world; there was dog-racing, Manchester United, and people. Billions of people walking around like happy meals on legs. This world wasn't so bad. Besides, who would want to keep a Slayer locked up for the rest of her life? Bane was barmy.
It was Bane's turn to do the laughing, although not from actual amusement. "Oh, your sire won't be returned to you until my plans are complete."
"And how long will that be?" Spike asked, his jaw clenched with irritation.
Bane looked thoughtful. "Could be a few months, maybe longer."
"You're off your bloody bird," Spike scoffed. No way in hell was he waiting months to get Dru back.
"Well, if you don't like it, then why don't you go find somebody else that can help you?" Bane challenged.
Spike weighed his options. He could tell Bane he'd do whatever took part in his plan, meanwhile looking for other options that could help him in his search for Dru, having Bane as a backup just in case. Yes, that would be the logical choice.
"You've got yourself a deal, mate."
Bane smiled, and little did Spike know he'd just made himself a deal with the devil.
The next week Spike found himself driving to Los Angeles in search of Buffy Summers. Bane had wanted him to follow the girl around and made sure she didn't get herself killed. Spike had better things to do with his time than follow a little girl around, like finding the love of his unlife, which is why he'd made the decision to find minions that he could trust and weren't complete idiots to do it instead. He didn't like siring and usually let Dru do it when needed. It only added to his frustration of not having her around, even for trivial things such as that.
The first minion he'd found went by the name of Dalton. Dalton reminded Spike of his human self. He was smart and could aid Spike in his search for Dru. The second minion was a pretty bird he'd found at a club one night that went by the name Vanessa. Both minions had a brain, which was pleasant because he couldn't afford to have fuck ups around that might risk his chance of finding Dru.
Spike wanted to get a first look at Buffy Summers, the girl whom Bane was determined to be his ultimate ending, before leaving it to his minions to watch over her. He parked his car across the street from her home and waited for her to walk out. After several minutes, he became impatient and fumbled with the ring on his finger. The Gem of Amara. He was surprised when Bane had given him the ring, not knowing exactly how he got it. Spike had heard of the ring years ago; it was vampire folklore. Never had he thought the thing was real? The little green ring was something every vamp dreamed of getting firsthand. He remembered what Bane had told him when he had first given it to him.
"Here," Bane said and threw something at him.
Spike caught it and looked the ring over. "Not really my style, mate."
"Make it your style. It's the Gem of Amara."
He frowned. "I thought that was folklore for vampires."
"Don't believe me? Put it on and try putting your hand in the sun. It's real, and now you won't have a certain Slayer around to take it away. Consider this a favor since you have to wait a while to get your precious sire back." Bane replied mockingly.
Spike growled at the topic of his missing sire; putting the ring on, he stormed out of the room.
Spike shook his head, clearing it of the memory as he heard talking coming from the other side of the street. He watched as a man–presumably, Buffy's father–and a young girl walked to a car. So, this is the little girl Bane was so frightened of, he thought. Spike was not overly impressed. She was tiny. The Slayers he'd come into contact with in the past were taller and more compact. This chit looked like a spoiled Bel Air brat. She had long blonde hair that reached her butt, which was not her natural hair color. He couldn't make out any details of her face since she was turned slightly away from him. He watched as she got into the passenger side of the car, and they drove off. Considering the time of day and the backpack the girl was wearing, he assumed it was to school.
Spike started the Desoto over and drove back to his hotel, knowing the girl would be safe in school for the rest of the day. When the dark came, they needed to watch her, and he'd leave that up to Dalton and Vanessa. Spike needed to put all his time and energy into getting Dru back by his side and would stop at nothing to achieve that.