BUFFY, THE VAMPIRE SLAYER
William The Bloody, Chapter 7
"The Lure Of Three"
Gunn hadn't suspected a thing, too confident in the past success of himself and the others, and, at the onset of dusk, had rushed to the abandoned warehouse in response to Wesley's frantic phone call. The prim and proper Englishman had quickly told Gunn how he had gone over to Cordelia's to check up on her, only to find a couple of vamps hanging about to deliver a message from Spike.
Of course Wesley had thrown in the bit about how he had already contacted Angel, and that their vampire with a soul would be joining them at the warehouse as soon as the sun had retreated enough from the horizon. How could Gunn doubt him? Had they not constantly defeated evil at every turn? Had they not stood against every horror that the dark forces had thrown at them? Had they not learned to trust one another implacably?
Had they all not been fools?
Gunn had arrived to find Wesley's car parked out front of the old, wooden and steel warehouse, and he had gingerly entered, secure in the knowledge that it was just a little too light out yet for vamps to be up and about. Pain and blackness had engulfed him as something flat, and hard, smashed against his head, knocking him out.
Awakening, he knew not how long later, Gunn had found himself chained to a solid, concrete wall with thick, black links of something that felt as if it were much more than just metal. His cries had quickly drawn the attention of a female vamp that had sneered at him and sauntered off, returning a few moments later with Wesley and Cordelia in tow.
Gunn's trepidation became horror when his two friends smiled at him, revealing their new existence. His screams of anguish were lost to the night as the vamps stood their ground, laughing at his reaction, and when he finally drained himself, he began to wonder why he was still alive.
Angel arrived at the small office that the others had rented, and paused at the door as he sensed the familiar presence already within the building. His anger building at the thought that Spike would have the balls to come there, Angel threw the door open with such force that it shattered in a burst of wood and glass, its destruction echoing through the still night.
"I see even your good side has a temper," quipped Spike, setting back with his feet propped up on top of the desk.
"Where are they?" demanded Angel, his eyes darting about the office.
"I take it you're referring to the trollop, the whiner, and your muscle," replied Spike.
Angel became a blur as he shot around the desk, knocking Spike's feet off of the piece of furniture as he passed, and grabbed the intruding vamp by the collar of his duster, lifting him into the air. His snarl of rage caught in his throat as felt the slightest bit of pressure, and he looked down to see Spike pressing the tip of a stake against his chest.
"Let's not get all huffy and puffy," said Spike, smiling wickedly. "I'd hate to end this so soon."
"What the hell are you doing here, Spike?" demanded Angel. "Where are my friends?"
"Oh, yeah, I forgot. The vampire with a soul does like having humans for friends, now doesn't he?"
Angel went to throw Spike over the desk, intent on slamming him against the far wall, but Spike had other ideas, and had been prepared for just such a reaction. Twisting about in mid-air, using the desk for support, Spike did an improvised cart wheel, and landed on his feet, on the other side of the desk.
"Nice move," said Angel, glaring at his former comrade.
"I've been watching The Matrix," replied Spike. "Bloody good movie."
"What do you want? What's the point of this game?" demanded Angel.
"What do I want?" repeated Spike. "What do I want? Hmmm…let me see. You became Angelus, once a very good friend of mine, and what did you do then? You mocked me and humiliated me every chance you had. You turned Dru against me, and, when you come right down bloody to it, you smegged up my life!"
"Not my fault," replied Angel, shrugging. "You always were a loser, Spike."
"Not anymore, chum," said Spike, still smiling that I've got you by the balls smile of his. "The gloves are off now."
"Buffy should've staked…"
"Oh! Yeah, your little Slayer," interrupted Spike. "I guess you haven't heard yet."
"Heard what?" asked Angel, dread creeping upon him.
"She, and her little group of friends, it seems they had a little accident."
Angel placed one hand on the side of the desk and pushed it out of his way, the heavy piece of furniture sliding across the floor with a screech to slam into the wall and shatter apart, and then took a threatening step towards Spike.
"Not my doing, mind you," continued Spike, holding his ground. "Though it was to my benefit in the end."
Angel lunged at Spike, but once again Spike had been ready for the assault and he slipped out of the reaching grasp of Angel, spinning around and delivering a kick across Angel's back that sent the vampire smashing to the floor.
Spike leapt backwards, bouncing around on his feet like a boxer, jabbing at the air with a glee to his eyes that conveyed how much he was enjoying their encounter. Ducking and weaving, making swooshing sounds as he punched at the air, Spike gloated over the fallen Angel.
"I'm not real certain," said Spike as Angel rose, "but I think it was about five pounds of C4."
Angel stood still, looking at Spike with disbelief playing across his face.
"I've heard of getting around," joked Spike, morbidly, "but I think she spread herself a little thin with that last one."
Spike nearly burst into unbridled laughter as seeing the lost look on Angel's face. Angel could sense that he had been speaking the truth, and the devastation that it was reeking upon the 'good guy' vamp was more than Spike could have hoped for.
"Oh, don't fret White Knight, I'm sure that another Slayer has already been brought forth, and no doubt you'll be able to ply your way into her virginal panties, too."
With a roar of rage, Angel launched himself at Spike, grappling with him and taking them both to the floor with a crash. They tumbled about, Angel landing several solid blows to Spike smirking face, but the blonde vamp continued laughing, countering a number of Angel's attacks with ease.
Growing tired of the battle, his mind more focused than it had been in ages, Spike slipped his own stake back into his hand and brought it up against Angel's chest at the very same second that Angel had brought his own into play. The two vamps froze in that instant, on their sides but facing each other, both holding a stake to the other's heart, and glared at each other. Angel's expression was one of revenge driven anger, while Spike's was that of complete and utter hatred.
"Kill me, and your friends will be dead by morning," hissed Spike. "All three of them."
Angel continued to glare at him, seething with rage.
"Help me, and I'll turn them back over to you, no harm done."
"Help you?" Angel finally managed to get out. "Help you what?"
"Find Dru," answered Spike. "She said she was coming back here, and I want to have some closure with her."
"You're a monster, Spike, and the first chance I get, I will kill you."
"Would that be before or after your friends die?"
"Damn you."
"Damn us both, brother," smiled Spike.
"I want to see them first," demanded Angel.
"I knew you would," said Spike, releasing his hold on Angel. And counting on it, he thought, rising from the floor.
Angel shrugged off the helping hand Spike offered, and stood up, barely containing the rage he felt. He wanted nothing more than to put a stop to Spike right then and there, but he had to control that rage if he was to hope to save his friends. He knew that he couldn't trust Spike, but for the moment the blonde vamp held all the cards.
"I want to see them now," growled Angel.
"Shall we take your car, chum?" asked Spike. "I feel like riding with the top down."
Angel whirled around on his heel and stalked out of the trashed office.
Spike followed, smiling, and thinking oh, this is going to be so much fun!
TO BE CONTINUED…