Bloody Crosses

Spike cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Deparis, right?"

The figure seemed to smile, hands clasped behind his back as he stepped forward towards the Vampire. The eyes narrowed, the shape of the twin lights changing to show the movement as a hand flickered briefly from behind his back. Spike growled in frustration as he felt a familiar force envelope him, immobilizing every muscle and leaving his senses hyper-aware. That was probably intentional; the more sensitive a creature was, the easier it was to cause it infinite levels of pain.

Deparis walked towards him, no hint of a stalk in his step as he moved, which Spike found remarkably unsettling. He had no idea of exactly what he was dealing with here. Rather than attack him, the demon surprised him by crouching at his feet, placing a cold hand against the cool spot where he had previously drunk from.

Spike flinched involuntarily at the movement though the creature paid no notice, seemingly interested in that spot on his abdomen. He felt his shirt being lifted, the skin-tight material bunching beneath his rib as it was pushed away. The fingers probed at his flesh inquisitively before the hand pulled back and played across his side, the longest of the thin fingers pushing down firmly beside his navel.

"Good precious."

He barely heard the words uttered seemingly at his stomach, but he noticed the burning sensation building beneath the hand all too well. After a minute it was unbearable and he screamed his fury and pain into the night for any creature to hear. A pinprick in the side of his throat was his reward, all interest in his stomach lost as Deparis stroked the soft flesh around the needle. Spike watched the white eyes steadily; this petting was severely off-putting and concerning, as was the fact that he couldn't see what the contents of that syringe was.

He found out quickly enough though, the plunger going down and his skin sizzling as the contents were expelled into his body. Spike burned on the inside, the sensation travelling through him rapidly. Smoke was rising from the point of entry, open now as the needle was pulled away and pocketed. Deparis stood toe-to-toe with him, watching his face intently, memorizing every twitch that he was causing.

Holy water. Spike identified it as holy water, and he seemed to feel worse at the realization. It was reacting quickly though, and it would soon be gone, leaving him significantly damaged internally and severely weakened against this enemy.

As the remains of the liquid fizzled and burned away, Deparis smiled warmly and patted the exposed flesh of his stomach lightly, never taking his eyes from Spike's, now dark with pain and near-exhaustion.

"Like that, don't you precious?"

Another cold whisper into the night air, a muttering that Spike sincerely wished he couldn't hear, trembling despite himself in pain, confusion and downright fear. Chen had been right; he should've just run rather than piss around with this one.

Feeling the force securing him tighten its hold, he found himself lifted and tipped backwards, now staring at the clouds between the buildings creating the ally. The sky was brightening, some intact part of his mind noted absently. His eyes widened minutely at that thought.

The clouds started moving then, and the buildings, at a steady pace as Deparis lead them forward. They walked for several minutes, Spike urging his body to heal the injuries the holy water had dealt him, Deparis humming softly to himself as he walked. They had stopped once at the end of the ally when he had collected his bag from the shadows, and now they stopped again, this time in a familiar street. Still staring up, Spike saw the tall building to his right and realized that someone he knew lived there, but he couldn't remember through the pain-filled haze that had descended upon his mind. Finally, as Deparis was contemplating the many stories in the brightening light, he remembered and was more confused than before.

The whelp?

*****

Deparis' smile grew larger as he returned to the Vampire. He was starting to smoke a little now, singed at the edges as the first light of dawn nibbled at his frozen form. He couldn't have that though; it would take away all the fun if he just allowed the Vampire to ignite and burn to nothing. Granted, it would be an enjoyable scene, but there were more pressing matters at hand.

He had hoped to do this outside, but the Vampire's unexpected delay meant that he could not perform this act outside the Magic Box as he planned. It was necessary to keep it alive, which meant that it needed to be discovered and 'assisted'. Deparis had researched the entire group that this animal was friendly with, naturally, and this building was the closest that housed one of those friends. Granted, they weren't good friends, but he had observed a small level of potential compassion between them and the ex-demon would likely aid the Vampire when he was through with it.

Standing next to it now, he stared up at the desired window and raised them both, hands palm-up as he motioned them higher. Waving open the glass-panes, Deparis brought them both inside the spacious bed-room and abruptly released his hold on the creature. It dropped to the carpet heavily, still for only a second before straining to stand against him. An admirable effort, utterly foolish, but admirable still.

His style changed abruptly now, gripping the throat of he beast and hefting it to its feet before shoving it back against the wall, holding it there as it groaned at the pain. Its face was deformed now, some strength left in it as the eyes turned golden and the brow furrowed. He would have loved to run his hand over those bumps of hard flesh, perhaps see if the colour of the fluid inside those golden orbs changed colour too, but he had to put his task before his curiosity.

Calling his bag to his side, Deparis held the creature still with a quick hand motion before clicking it open. So many choices in those black depths, now illuminated slightly by the dawn that pressed through the curtains. Another absent motion and they closed completely, granting the Vampire some small measure of mercy. That would be taken back in direct order.

Finally making a decision, Deparis pulled out two thick stakes, each heavy even to his own hands. As long as a standard wooden one, these were made of silver of a specific concentration and honed to a point so sharp it could only be achieved and maintained by magic. It had taken him some time to produce these particular weapons, having to analysis the specimen in great depth to find the optimum concentration of silver; enough to cause damage and agony, but not too much so as to allow it to see another night.

Smoothing the material of its black shirt, he placed the first stakes' point above and to the right of its unbeating heart, adjusting the positioning minutely before he was completely satisfied. Staring intently at that spot, Deparis brought the stake back and slammed it forward again, driving through cloth, skin flesh, bone and wall. The shoulder-blade didn't break entirely, which he was pleased about. Rather it was 'drilled', penetrated by the sharp point and now trapped about the silver.

The animal voiced its disapproval at the action loudly, bellowing loud enough to waken anything in a two block radius. He'd have to put a stop to that noise, he thought, frowning at the pale face. Touching the throat briefly, he waited until the channels inside were completely stilled before smoothing the other side of the shirt.

The second stake went through without incident, a spasm running through the creature but no noise was made. Twitching a hand slightly, Deparis relinquished his hold on the body and let the stakes keep it standing. No weight was being put onto the shaking legs, now damp with blood, and he was secretly glad that he had chosen the thickest stakes, the ones strong enough to hold its weight.

Its arms were useless now, but his precious was still hungry. Procuring a third, thinner stake from the bag, Deparis lifted a heavily muscled arm up and out, holding it by the hand as he turned the palm outwards. Puncturing the wrist was easier than going through the shoulders, the stake holding the arm up as he released the hand, satisfied with the amount of blood trickling down the once beige wall.

He marveled at the body before him; it had once been a killing machine, every muscle, thought and action one honed to that of a predator, the compact body moving like liquid in battle and the mind calculating its prey hungrily, accurately before it feasted. Now it looked weak, drawn, pathetic. How large a change could come in a short hour amazed him, pleased him and at some level excited him. He had incited this change, the creature was bowing to his power over it, its body being molded, albeit slowly, to his purposes, and it was almost completely unaware of the changes.

Lifting the other arm, Deparis dealt the stake through it quickly and returned to regarding the animal silently. He had done a good job tonight, worked well. He could sense it in the other body, could see it in the flickering aura. The silver was bleeding through its veins as expected now, and he removed his hold on its throat, letting it gasp and croak at the pain, watching it struggle to stand and ease the weight off the stakes, remove the pressure from his burning flesh.

A callused hand ran almost lovingly over the pale face of the struggling vampire, the harsh breathing escaping its lips merely an outlet, a control mechanism for the pain he was feeling. Deparis's sleek fingers, nimble and well versed in the bodies of all manner of creatures, continued down the chiseled cheekbone, the sculptured jaw, the soft throat.

He paused beneath its jaw, a definite flash of fear briefly visible in the eyes of the demon when their eyes met. Lifting the head was easy; the vampire had no strength left to offer resistance. With his free hand, he produced the one remaining stake from the bag; sleek and deadly thin like the pair through his wrists, the dim light casting stripes of black and white across its silver surface.

A pause when the stake was over his shoulder, before the weapon was thrust forward at an impossible speed, puncturing skin and crushing jugular with ease. A wet, strangled sound was coughed from the pale lips, the eyes wide and stunned before the silver started to seep slowly through its body, the pupils shrinking then and rolling to stare into the skull they were held in.

Deparis dipped a thumb in the animal's blood, the dark fluid standing out starkly against the white skin, brushing the damp extremity across the smooth forehead. A simple cross above the nose, a mocking symbol left to dry as he departed.

Stepping back, he tipped his head to the side as if admiring his handiwork, before he touched the brim of his hat with a curled finger and a thin smile before stepping out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

*****

Xander was first to step into the room, Anya knocking into him when he stopped dead in the doorway. He gaped openly at the dark fluid staining the plush carpet, dribbling in thick, viscous torrents down the wall the man was suspended from.

Hung like a demonic Christ, the stake penetrating his throat forced Spike's skull up to make blank eyes stare at the ceiling. His entire body was lax, exhaustion having long ago taken its toll, and their first move was to lift him and ease the pressure of his weight from the stakes.

"Anya, call Giles, now," Xander said, lifting Spike's legs up with one hand and pulling the stakes from his wrists with a sickening wrench with the other. Anya nodded feverantly before dashing back out, her smooth face pale with shock at the scene she had just witnessed.

Once Spike was free from the remaining stake in his right shoulder, he slumped forward lifelessly into Xander's arms, his jumper now coated in the demon's blood. Amazingly, the creature was still conscious; eyes staring as if drugged upwards clicked to his face, acknowledging him. He coughed around his destroyed throat, sending more blood spurting from his already soaked lips.

"Alright Spike, buddy, just stay with me until Giles gets here, okay?" Xander muttered barely taking his eyes off the dazed face, hefting the body backward onto the large bed. Anya returned then, bringing with her a knife and a pile of towels. Whilst she mopped at the blood trickling lazily from his wounds, Xander cut through the material of his shirt to get better access, grinning slightly when he heard a noise from the man on the bed, almost a growl of irritation.

The door crashed open on the trio, Giles running in with a first aid kit which he opened on the bed, tearing various items from and handing to Anya who had succeeded in forcing the wounds in Spike's shoulders to cease releasing fluid. It took a few minutes to bandage everything that was bleeding, but it took a lot longer to figure out how to replenish the reservoir of blood the Vampire had previously held in his body. It was vital to get the fluid into his body, and after some debate, Giles ended up forcing a piece of tubing down Spike's wrecked throat and into his stomach, literally pouring the blood into him.

Xander, feeling the profound urge to retch, had left the room and gone outside. He felt his heart contract painfully in surprise and fear when he looked up though, seeing the man attached to the ceiling of the corridor. Hair a colour that even Oz wouldn't touch, the demon was scuttling unsettlingly fast on his hands and ankles, stomach brushing the plaster lightly as he moved.

Stopping outside the door, he released his hold and dropped neatly to his feet infront of Xander. He seemed to recognize the human, flashing him a quick smile before sliding past him and into the room. Xander found himself blinking in shock at the creatures' audacity, and travelling skills, before hastily following. He could hear the voices before he got back to the bed.

"Who the hell are you?" Giles asked loudly, moving to stand between the injured Vampire and the visiting demon.

Chem sighed in exasperation, but forced a friendly smile. "My name is Chem and I am a good friend of the Vampire whom you are so thoroughly protecting. I have come to ensure his well-being."

Anya snorted at that. "Well, I'd say that it was pretty obvious what his state of 'well-being' is."

His eyes narrowed minutely. "I am aware of that; I was there during the attack, unseen of course."

"And you didn't help him? He was left there to die! If Anya and Xander hadn't returned then he-"

Chen held up a silencing hand, interrupting the furious man without hesitation. "If I had indeed intervened, I would have undoubtedly been killed, and I would not be of much help to Spike if that were the case. It is obvious that Deparis wanted Spike alive, otherwise he would have cast him into the sun or done something equally lethal. In anycase, when his attacker left, I followed in hopes of discerning exactly what he was doing, or at least where he was staying. I could not pursue him for long before he sensed my presence, and I was forced to return here or have my head removed like the lid off an aspirin bottle, which is an experience I have no intention of going through quite yet."

"Fine, but why Spike? Why do, this? Why not just kill him if he's being such a pain in the ass to this Deparis?" Xander asked, gesturing with his hands to the now unconscious man on the bed.

Chem regarded him with grim determination. "That is what I intend to find out."

*****

I am evil for these '...' endings, aren't I? Thank you all for the great reviews, very encouraging as you can tell! (Two chapters in two days, a record). Keep 'em coming and let me know how I'm doing. Some opinions on Chem would be good too, for future use...