13
Angelus watched from the garden. He watched as the blonde vampire made his
way from one end of the great room to the other, tidying as he went. He watched as the undead squatter stoked the
embers glowing in the fireplace to a proper blaze, made himself comfortable and
opened a book.
"Reading, Spike? I guess you'll need a new line of work now that you can't hunt anymore,"
the elder vampire drawled.
Spike jumped. He hadn't heard the dark-haired vampire come in. Stealthy bugger, Spike thought, feeling
irritated that his old Master was still able to make him feel like an incompetent
schoolboy.
"And housebroken too," Angelus muttered when he
ran his long fingers over a table top, finding it immaculate.
Spike ground his teeth. He'd been practicing keeping his lightning
quick temper in check, but the critical asshole was really working that one
nerve reserved strictly for him.
"Do you mind? You're smudging the finish," Spike growled.
Angelus grinned, showing his palms in
mock-defeat, and immediately returned to nosing through Spike's personal
belongings.
The blonde vampire sighed frustratedly, yanking
a bronze goblet from his unwelcome guest's hand, and asked, "What do you want,
Angel? Don't you have enough nasty
stuff to keep you busy back in LA?"
Angelus smiled at the name his Childe
used. The goody-goodies didn't tell, he
realised with amusement. What an
interesting turn of events.
"I had some time on my hands," Angelus said
vaguely, slowly rolling a training staff in his hands, keeping his eyes
lowered. No sense in alerting the boy
to his true identity beforehand. "Thought I'd pop in, see how everybody's doing."
Spike tracked the swinging staff's path,
cringing when it just missed a Ming vase he'd found between Angel's old stuff
in storage. "Watch it, you big ox!" he
snapped, snatching the weapon from Angelus' hand and putting it down just out of
reach. He missed the burst of rage
erupting in the elder vampire's black, soulless eyes. "Next time, call before barging into my house. Give a guy a chance to hide all his
breakables."
To keep himself from throttling the impertinent
Childe, he picked up Spike's discarded book. What was the boy reading these days? Something escaped the yellow pages.
With preternatural deftness, Angelus caught the
piece of paper fluttering to the floor. It was a photo… of Buffy.
"What are you doing with a picture of the
Slayer, Spike?" he asked, deadly calm.
Spike flushed red for an instant. "None of your damn business," he grumbled
and retrieved yet another item from the dark vampire's long fingers.
"Everything she does is my business."
"You don't own her, Angel. You left her. I was there when she felt….lonely." Spike grinned when the dark-haired pretty boy dropped his eyes
and decided to push it a little further. The nancyboy's so easy, he thought when he said, "I could give her that
happy she needed without going all massacre-happy on her like you. Sorry, big guy, but she's mine now."
Angelus reached critical mass. He had the staff back in his hand with
lightning speed. No Childe of his
making would dare address him so disrespectfully. Spike had to learn. Spike
had to learn the hard way.
The staff connected with Spike's cheekbone,
splitting the skin and hurling the surprised vampire into the mantle over the
fireplace.
Fury flared through Spike. He leapt to his feet, but his leap was cut
painfully short by a heavy black boot crushing down on his windpipe, pinning
him to the floor.
"I'm sorry. We seem to be having a slight misunderstanding," Angelus snarled and
pushed down hard on the struggling vampire under his foot. Spike gagged at the added pressure on his
neck, tears squeezing out of his eyes. "Let me clear things up for you. This is my house. The Slayer is my woman. Everything you think you own, is mine." He let his eyes slowly, purposefully trace the length of the sprawled
vampire's body. "Everything." He lifted his foot just enough for the
blonde brat to answer his understanding.
Spike answered. "Fuck you!" he growled.
Angelus shook his head, "Wrong answer, my boy."
Spike's world exploded in brilliant colors of
agony as Angelus landed three expert blows on his body with the staff. The first blow shattered the immobile
vampire's nose, gushing blood into his gasping mouth and down his blocked
throat.
The second drove two broken ribs through his
unused lung, forcing the pooling blood at the back of his throat out of his
mouth, letting it flow freely down his cheeks and into his ears and onto the
floor.
The third blow hit the groaning man in his
knee, dislocating it in the most painful way. The instant his knee popped out, Spike was transported back into his
early lessons, a terrified fledgling foolish enough to try and run from his
Master. Angelus knew how to teach you
not to run from your punishment.
But Angel wouldn't…, Spike thought
frantically. He watched the vampire on
top of him reach back to the awkward bulge where his knee was supposed to be,
panic flooding him. Angelus had taught
him where to squeeze the exposed nerves to cause added agony to the unwilling
student. Pain leaves a lasting
impression, Angelus always said. You
don't forget the lessons taught you in pain.
'But Angel wouldn't!', the blonde, bleeding
vampire's mind screamed. Not even to
me, not with his soul…
Angelus watched the emotions rushing over his
Childe's face, waiting for that glimmer of recognition to grow to
certainty. He wanted the insolent boy
to know who was punishing him.
Spike opened his mouth, trying to speak the
name that was turning sideways in his heart, but he could only squawk. He swallowed and tried again. "A-A-Angelus?" he croaked, terror turning
his mouth dry and bitter.
An evil grin split the Master vampire's
face. He brought his hovering hand down
on Spike's knee and squeezed violently. Spike's scream rattled the windows, drowning out Angelus' bellowing
laugh.
"Angelus! Master! Please! Stop!" the tortured vampire screamed. The agony was beyond what he could bear.
"Are you sorry, boy?" Angelus snarled at his
crying, begging Childe. "Are you sorry
for your betrayal?"
"YES! YES! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!! Please!" Spike begged, willing to say or do anything to make the pain
bombarding him stop.
Angelus let go of Spike's knee, releasing the
nerves he was gripping. Spike gasped as
the pain ebbed away. He blinked past
the tears cascading from his eyes to look at the soulless vampire.
"I don't believe you, Spike," Angelus said,
rising to his full height. "But lucky
for you I don't have the luxury of time on my side right now."
Hope flared in Spike's eyes. Maybe this was over. Maybe he would…. The thought was cut short by a steel-toed boot connecting to his
side, sending him sliding headlong into the wall.
"I guess we'll just have to settle for the
Cliff notes version of the lesson."
Spike didn't fight back as the fierce blows and
kicks pummeled him. He curled himself
into a ball, trying to make as small a target of himself as he could. He felt his bones break, his blood splatter
the wall and floor. He wanted to loose
consciousness, but each wave of pain brought him back to this nightmare.
Then it stopped. It just stopped. Spike
dared to peek through his swollen lids to see if Angelus had finally deemed the
lesson over.
"You have much to make up for, my boy. But you took your licks like a man. Well, actually like a crying woman, but you
didn't resist me. And that pleases me,"
Angelus spoke.
He bent down. Spike cowered away from Angelus' reaching hand. That brought a new smile of pleasure to the
dark vampire's face. He grabbed Spike
by his short blonde hair, pulling him to his knees, but not letting go. Angelus grabbed with his other hand,
bringing a new scream forth from Spike's battered body as the long, powerful
fingers closed around his balls in a vise grip. Angelus lifted Spike high over his head, liking the weight of the
other man on his flexing shoulder muscles, and pitched Spike away.
Spike had to fight the darkness from claiming
him when he hit the door that led to the garden. He tried to swallow the cry pushing out of him, but couldn't.
"The lesson is over," Angelus said,
satisfied. "For now."
The broken vampire offered up a prayer of
thanks when he noticed the crouching figure in the shadows of the fountain that
made the centerpiece of the garden. He
tried to make out who it was, but his eyes were swollen nearly completely shut.
Angelus had sensed the presence of another as
well and marched to the garden. Xander
stumbled out from his hiding place, dread and confusion playing over his young
features.
No, Spike's being screamed. He gulped air into his lungs and bellowed, "RUN!!!!"
Xander didn't need to be told twice. He was on his feet and away with speed equal
to any vampire's.
Angelus didn't give chase. "No matter," he shrugged. "That saves me the time of letting my Slayer know who's come to visit." He turned and, shrugging his graceful form into his coat, strode out of the mansion, leaving his devastated Childe broken, bleeding and slipping into oblivion.
