CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
The Kidnapping
The next morning Buffy woke up just before the sun rose, feeling very rested. She didn't remember Spike coming to bed the night before. But even though she'd kind of enjoyed turning in alone, there were very definite benefits to waking up and finding a good-looking naked vampire in your bed. With a little touching and nibbling she was able to coax him into wakefulness and a little lovemaking.
Afterwards, they curled up together. "So, what time did you get in?" she asked
"Late," he said. "Didn't notice what time."
"Was there trouble?"
"Not at first. It was bloody boring really. Then some time in the wee hours I saw this gang of vamps waiting for one of their mates to rise. I got the fledgling pretty quick and one of the others. But the rest of the group was hard to track down." He pulled her closer and whispered provocatively in her ear. "Judging from this morning's activities, your hip seems better."
"Much. But you'll have to change my bandage for me later. And put some more of that salve on it."
"Didn't you change it last night?"
"Yeah, but it's more fun when you do it."
Spike gave a little laugh. He ran his thumb up and down her arm, enjoying the contrast between her skin's softness and the muscles underneath.
"Xander and Anya got attacked last night by the Fire demons, while they were sitting in their car."
"Are they all right?" Spike asked lifting up his head to look at her.
"Yeah. Just shaken up." She told him the whole story and then filled him in on her meeting with Speaker, the little Nazari.
"So you and me are supposed to speak to the head Shadow tonight?" he asked.
"Yeah. But I have to go in and meet with one of Dawn's teachers after school, so meet me at the Magic Box just after dark. It might be a long night, so we'll try and rest up today as much as possible."
"A day in bed." Spike smirked. "I think I can suffer through that."
"Resting."
"Right."
A door opened and closed outside in the hallway and sleepy feet padded toward the bathroom. Buffy glanced at the clock on her side of the bed. "Gotta get up," she said. "Gotta fix Dawn's breakfast and see her off to school. I can't let Tara do it again today. You can stay here and get some more sleep. You had a longer night than I did."
"Right, Luv," Spike said. But he didn't close his eyes till after Buffy left the room. It was too much fun watching her get dressed, her hair swinging and her skin glowing in the soft morning light.
Of course they didn't do much sleeping during the rest of the day as Buffy had thought they should. But she was quite relaxed by the time she started getting dressed to meet Dawn's teacher.
"I want to look serious and conservative," she said, as she looked through her clothes closet. I hope they're not calling me in to complain about Dawn. She's been studying more. I know she has. And Zachary's really has been helping her. They don't just sit around making goo-goo eyes at each other."
"No, that boy's got a right old egghead on his shoulders," Spike agreed. "He actually enjoys school work. Which is more than I could ever say of me."
"Well, I think he's good for Dawn in lots of ways. So . . . what do you think?" Buffy did a twirl to show off her conservative skirt and blouse and sensible shoes.
"Very posh," Spike said appreciatively. "You gonna meet the Shadows in those duds?"
"No. I'm got some extra slay clothes down at the Magic Box in the training room," she said patting, her hair into place. "OK. Gotta run. I'm late. See you later."
"Bye, Luv," Spike called after her.
Once she was gone, Spike got up and went downstairs for some blood and some telly watching. Then, just as the sky was darkening, he headed off to the Magic Box. He was only a block away when he heard someone go, "Psst," behind him. When he turned around, he saw what he thought was Buffy. It certainly looked like Buffy. Her hair was drawn back in a different hairstyle than the one she'd worn when she'd gone out earlier and she had on a more casual outfit. But he'd been expecting her to change anyway from her teacher-meeting duds.
"What is it, Luv?" he asked, approaching her.
But the Buffy figure didn't speak. She waved her hand silently, motioning for him to follow her. Which he did, zapping to her side in quick vampire fashion.
"What's up?" he asked again.
The Buffy figure put a finger to her mouth, telling him to be quiet. Then she continued on down the street toward an alleyway two blocks from the Magic Box.
"Why so secretive?" Spike asked. "Are we playing a game?" He stretched his right hand out behind her and ran it familiarly up the Buffy figure's rear end. The Buffy figure jumped in surprise, but kept moving forward, only quicker now. "You still feeling a might frisky, Luv?" Spike asked. "Wasn't this morning and this afternoon enough for you?"
The Buffy figure closed its eyes for a split second and gulped. It wasn't really Buffy. It was Jonathan, using an illusion to make himself look like Buffy, in order to lure Spike to the nearby alleyway. They knew Spike hung out with Buffy sometimes and that they worked together. But they hadn't thought there was anything else between them. Warren had told Jonathan and Andrew about the Buffy-bot that Warren had made for Spike . . . with all those special talents. But they had taken that to mean that there was nothing romantic or sexual going on between them. Evidently that had changed. Spike's hand on what he thought was Buffy's ass, and his words about this morning and this afternoon told a completely different story. Jonathan prayed hard that Warren's new device would render Spike harmless, otherwise he could end up in a very embarrassing situation.
Even though Warren had been raving all the way over about getting the diamond back and taking revenge on Spike, Jonathan had been hoping to get him to reconsider what they'd originally talked about in reference to Spike, back when he'd first come to them about the chip in his head. Jonathan had been hoping they could convince Spike to switch over to their side against Buffy. Maybe be their double agent, using Warren's device as a sort of encourager. Jonathan had thought Spike might hold a grudge against Buffy because of the chip (because he figured it likely that she had been the one to muzzle him). Only now . . . he wasn't so sure. He had a feeling things were going to be get very ugly.
Jonathan picked up his pace yet again.
"Buffy, what is up with you?" Spike asked.
Jonathan ran the last few yards into the alley, past a waiting Warren. As soon as Spike came around the bend, Warren switched on his device.
Immediately, searing pain shot through Spike's head. It felt as if his brain were being burned from the inside out. He was vaguely aware that it was the chip, but it was worse than anything he'd ever experienced. And the pain wouldn't allow for much thinking. His eyes closed but he still saw a white light flashing behind his eyes. "Aaah!" Spike called out as he sank to his knees.
"It works!" Warren said, jumping up and down. "It works!" He raised the power up still higher.
Spike cried out in agony again and then fell forward onto the asphalt, unconsciousness.
"See how powerful it is?" Warren said, his bloodshot eyes glinting triumphantly.
"Yes," Jonathan said, turning back into himself. "But he's out now. Don't you think you should turn that thing off?"
"Oh, yeah. Guess I can." Warren turned off the remote and stuck it into his pocket. Then he fell on Spike's still form and started rifling through his clothes.
"What are you doing?" Jonathan asked. "Shouldn't we be getting him into the van before someone sees us?"
"I'm looking for the diamond. It's got to be here." Warren ripped through Spike's pockets but came up with very little. There some cigarettes, his lighter, and a set of keys. Warren held up the keys. "Wonder what these are to. What does a vampire need keys for?"
Jonathan had a pretty good idea that they were to Buffy's house, but he didn't want to discuss it just then. He had visions of Buffy coming down the block and seeing them bent over her boyfriend's prone body. He had a feeling she wouldn't be very nice about it. "We've got to get him out of here. You can check his pockets again once we get him in the van. We're not very far from the place where Buffy and her friends hang out. One of them might come by. Help me get him inside."
Warren complied. But as soon as the van took off, he started checking through Spike's pockets again. "Where is it?" he wailed.
In the enclosed space Jonathan was very aware that Warren hadn't seen the inside of a bath or a shower in several days. And that wasn't all, his beard had grown out, his hair was matted down and he had mad hungry look in his bloodshot eyes. From what Jonathan had been able to discern, Warren hadn't slept in several days, nor had he eaten much of anything. He also mumbled a lot, sounding a bit like one of his bots, shorted out.
"Where could it be," Warren asked himself. "Maybe he got rid of it. Or maybe he gave it away. No! How could he do that! He couldn't. It MUST be here! But it's not, it's not. Maybe it's gone for good. No. It's can't be." He started whimpering. "It's got to come back to me. But if it's gone, what do I do? I don't know. I don't know what to do." Warren began rocking himself back and forth. "Gotta get it back or gotta have revenge. Gotta get it back or gotta have revenge. Gotta get it back or gotta have revenge . . ." And so went the refrain, on and on.
Jonathan didn't say anything. There was no getting through to Warren while he was like this. He figured after they got back to Warren's, maybe then he would try and get him to see some reason.
- - - - - - - - - -
"Where is he?" Buffy asked looking out the front door of the Magic Box with irritation. It was fully dark by then and Spike should have been there long ago.
"Probably just lost track of time," Xander said.
Zachary had gone home on his own after school that day because Dawn and Buffy were supposed to meet with Dawn's teacher. After the conference, Dawn had gone with Buffy to the Magic Box and was now using Xander as her tester in history. He was reading off questions from her text book and she was answering them. The two of them were seated comfortably at the circular table in the center of the shop. Dawn was in a good mood because her teacher had basically called Buffy in to tell her that Dawn was starting to improve. Dawn was hoping that that would soon lead to renewed privileges and later evenings with Zachary.
"I swear, I will dust Spike when he gets here," Buffy said with feeling.
"Maybe he just fell asleep," Dawn said. "Try calling him at home to see if he's left yet."
Buffy went to the back of the shop and called the house. But there was no answer. She slammed the phone down and growled, "Where is he?"
"Easy on the phone back there," Anya said. "It's a sturdy old thing, but it costs money."
"I can't wait much longer," Buffy said.
"You want me to go with you instead?" Xander offered. "That is, if Anya doesn't need me."
"No. I'm fine," Anya said. "Only, I don't know if I want you to go on stake-out again. We don't have any weapons that can fight those fire jets. The crossbows you and Spike used the other night couldn't have been much use at all."
"Don't worry, Anya," Buffy said. "If Xander comes with me, I won't bring him on stake-out. Either I'll go by myself or I'll wait till tomorrow and go with Spike . . . IF I let him live."
"Well, OK. In that case . . ."
In the end Buffy went off to meet the Shadows with Xander instead of Spike. It was an easy enough meeting. Ohanzee said that he had heard that she had tried to help his people fight the Fire demons earlier in the week. He said he appreciated it. And that he had spread word among them that she was trying to help.
"My people will leave when we must," Ohanzee told Buffy in his slow way. "But not before."
"There are only two buildings left standing on that avenue," Buffy said. "Except for the warehouse at 666, that is. Do you know anything special about that building?"
"No. But I think it is their center."
"And where are they getting the magic power to do this?"
"I don't know. But, I think it is not from one being, but a group."
"A group of demons?"
"Not sure. But if it was one group, one kind of demon, we would probably know."
"Yes," Speaker said. He was there also at the meeting. "Things get out, you know around town. Especially at Willy's. If one specific group of demons was involved, we would have heard. I've been keeping an ear out."
"So. What are you saying? It's a group made up of different types of demons and they've hired on the Fire demons to do their dirty work."
"The Fire demons," Ohanzee said, "before they always had too much pride to be hirelings. This new power must have looked good to them."
And what was the point to all of this anyway, Buffy wondered. To take over Sunnydale? Or open up the Hellmouth again? "I'm going over there and look around some more."
"My people will help you," Ohanzee said. "But the Fire demons will not be around tonight. Police will be there tonight because of last night's fire. The guns of the police frighten the Fire demons."
Guns, Buffy thought. Spike had wanted to use guns. But if these fire jets were created by magic, perhaps they could fight them with magic. "I'll go down tomorrow then maybe," Buffy said. "I don't particularly want to meet the police either. I also want to talk to my people about possible weapons. I'll let you get back to whatever it was you were doing. And I'll let Speaker know if I need to talk to you again."
"You can come here any time. I or one of my people will talk to you," Ohanzee said.
"Yeah," Speaker agreed. "Most of my people are down here now too. So you can talk to them also. But anything else you need, just ask me."
"Well, actually," Buffy said. "There is something, Speaker."
"Anything, Slayer," the little Nazari said. "My people want to help get our homes back."
"If you see Mr., uh, Spike, would you tell him I need him to get in touch with me as soon as possible."
"He is missing then?"
"Only since this evening," Buffy said, with a glance toward Xander. "He was supposed to be at this meeting and he isn't here."
"I will ask around Willy's. Many know him there."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Buffy whispered under her breath as she turned to go.
Once outside Buffy thanked Xander for accompanying her.
"No problem," he said. "Those Shadows are real formal, aren't they?"
"Yeah, a bit."
"And the Nazari, when I look at him I kinda feel like I'm in Star Wars."
Buffy laughed. "Yeah, I can see that. You should see him sitting at a poker table. He can barely see over it."
"So, you think Spike is hanging at Willy's?"
"If he is, I'll kill him. He promised me he was giving up kitten poker. On the way back, could you drop me at the cemetery? I'll check his crypt and see if he's been there. I also know where he hides his motor cycle. I'll check and see if it's there. He better have a good excuse about where he's been."
- - - - - - - - - -
When Spike came to, he found himself strapped by various chains and straps to a table in Warren's basement. Of course he didn't know where he was right away. But Warren's head looming over him told him pretty quick. For a moment Spike didn't know who it was. The young man's face was twisted from advancing madness and lack of sleep. "Warren?" Spike said. "What in the bloody hell do you think you're playing at here? When I get my hands on you, I'll break your bloody head off."
"Don't think so," Warren cackled. "You can't hurt me. I'm human!"
Spike squinted at him, not comprehending.
"That's right. I know your secret. About what the chip in your head does. And, I've made this little box here so that I can control the pain impulses. See." Warren held up the little remote control. "I can turn it on." He did so, but on a low setting.
Spike reacted immediately as the pain hit him. He closed his eyes and slammed his head back onto the table. But he kept himself from crying out.
"And I can turn it off," Warren said, doing so. "Convinced."
"All right, Mate," Spike said, his tone less cocky. "That's a right smart box you've got there. Now, what do you want?"
"Not much. Just my diamond . . . And of course some revenge."
"What Warren means," Jonathan said nervously, "is that we want the diamond back and if you cooperate you won't get hurt."
"I didn't mean that at all," Warren said. "I fully intend to hurt him. But before I do, I want the diamond back."
"Uh, Dude," Jonathan whispered, "don't you think we'd get a little further if you at least pretended that we were going to work with him? I mean, why should he work with us if he knows we're gonna hurt him anyway?"
"Don't tell me, let me guess," Spike said, looking from one to the other of the humans. "Warren here is the one who stole the diamond from the museum. Or at the very least, he's the one that kept it in his hot little hands."
"Well, uh . . ." said Jonathan.
"That's right," Warren interrupted, "It's mine and I want it back. Hand it over!"
Spike laughed. "You know I don't have it. You must have searched me already. Truth is, I haven't got it anymore."
"Where is it?" Warren screamed, wrapping his hands around Spike's neck. Of course, he wasn't strong enough to actually hurt the vampire. But it was a good demonstration of his madness. "Give it back. Give it back."
"Not likely I'd tell you, is it? It's gone, that's all. And you should be glad. That diamond's got a curse on it."
"A curse?" Jonathan asked.
"Yeah. Only works on humans. Drives the one who owns it mad, burns their brains out till there's nothing left."
"I'm not mad," Warren insisted. "But you will be if I turn this little remote control on and just let it keep running."
"Jonathan, you'd better do something about your little friend here," Spike said. "Maybe we can find something to make him well. But if he doesn't get help, his brain will just go all to pieces. Seems like there's not much left as it is."
A curse. That made sense to Jonathan. Ever since the diamond had come to them, Warren hadn't acted normally, not even for him. Maybe now that they knew what it was they could find a cure, something to counteract the curse. "I think we should end this," Jonathan said to his mad friend. "You're not well. You need help."
"No I don't!" Warren yelled. "I'm fine. Ask Andrew."
Spike looked around the room, but didn't see any sign of the third member of the Triad. He looked at Jonathan questioningly.
"Don't ask," Jonathan said to Spike.
"Andrew says I'm perfectly fine and that I'm making lots of sense," Warren said.
Spike's dark eyebrows wandered up his face in confusion.
"Look, maybe I can find something at my house," Jonathan offered backing up toward the door. "I have lots of books on magic and curses and . . ."
"You're not going anywhere," Warren said. From under his desk he pulled a high tech looking gun and pointed it directly at Jonathan's chest. "Andrew and I made this while the computer was running diagnostics on the chip. You can do an awful lot when you cut out eating and sleeping. You can live a whole `nother life. We're thinking of calling this a Molecular Disturber."
"A what?" Jonathan asked.
"A Molecular Disturber. I know it's not a great name, but Andrew and I will come up with a snappier once we get a few extra moments. Basically what it does is separate all of your molecules from each other. And you just sort of go poof. Course I haven't tried it out yet. Shall I test it on you?"
"No. That's all right," Jonathan said, his hands up. Warren may have been mad, but he was still an electronic genius. Jonathan had no doubt that this new little gadget could do just what he said it did.
"Good. Now you sit down over there, nice and quiet. While I talk to our friend here."
Jonathan slowly did as he was told. He'd have to wait for his chance to escape a little while longer.
"Now," Warren said, walking back to Spike. "Where is my diamond?"
"Not telling," Spike said.
"Oh, that's too bad. But I have a feeling you will, in a while." He turned on the remote control and Spike's muscles convulsed in pain. "Think about it. But don't take too long, or I'll up the power. And feel free to cry out. I had the place sound proofed so the sound of all my machinery wouldn't bother my mom."
Spike writhed in agony, but he refused to cry out. He didn't want to give Warren the satisfaction. And he wasn't going to tell Warren where the diamond was, no matter what. The guy was clearly off his bird, ready for Bedlam. Even though Buffy and Willow might be able to take care of themselves, he couldn't let this nut job anywhere near Dawn or Tara. He couldn't say anything.
"Still, not talking?" Warren said. "Well, I'll just up the power a little." And he did.
The white lights started to appear behind Spike's eyes again. He tried to think of a way to escape it.
"Go ahead, don't tell me," Warren said. "It's more fun this way. Also, after your brain burns out and your personality is gone, I might be able to get one of my little toys to control you. Make you into my own private little vampire zombie. I'll make you kill and destroy anyone and anything I want. Won't that be fun!" He tittered to himself. "No, Andrew," he continued out loud to the other entity that was supposed sharing his deteriorating brain, "we cannot have a sandwich to celebrate. Don't be a wimp."
Spike heard Warren's words and tried to fight the pain. If only he could escape it. If only he could leave and become someone else, someone that Warren could never use, no matter how hard he tried. Someone like that bloody wanker he had been before Dru had found him. William. William the bloody awful poet, who couldn't think about anything but words and rhymes and his love for a pretty girl who would never love him back. William could never be used to do anyone's dirty work. He was too much of a milquetoast. Maybe if he pretended that he were back in his mother's parlor again in London as William, writing out pretty words in long hand . . .
The Kidnapping
The next morning Buffy woke up just before the sun rose, feeling very rested. She didn't remember Spike coming to bed the night before. But even though she'd kind of enjoyed turning in alone, there were very definite benefits to waking up and finding a good-looking naked vampire in your bed. With a little touching and nibbling she was able to coax him into wakefulness and a little lovemaking.
Afterwards, they curled up together. "So, what time did you get in?" she asked
"Late," he said. "Didn't notice what time."
"Was there trouble?"
"Not at first. It was bloody boring really. Then some time in the wee hours I saw this gang of vamps waiting for one of their mates to rise. I got the fledgling pretty quick and one of the others. But the rest of the group was hard to track down." He pulled her closer and whispered provocatively in her ear. "Judging from this morning's activities, your hip seems better."
"Much. But you'll have to change my bandage for me later. And put some more of that salve on it."
"Didn't you change it last night?"
"Yeah, but it's more fun when you do it."
Spike gave a little laugh. He ran his thumb up and down her arm, enjoying the contrast between her skin's softness and the muscles underneath.
"Xander and Anya got attacked last night by the Fire demons, while they were sitting in their car."
"Are they all right?" Spike asked lifting up his head to look at her.
"Yeah. Just shaken up." She told him the whole story and then filled him in on her meeting with Speaker, the little Nazari.
"So you and me are supposed to speak to the head Shadow tonight?" he asked.
"Yeah. But I have to go in and meet with one of Dawn's teachers after school, so meet me at the Magic Box just after dark. It might be a long night, so we'll try and rest up today as much as possible."
"A day in bed." Spike smirked. "I think I can suffer through that."
"Resting."
"Right."
A door opened and closed outside in the hallway and sleepy feet padded toward the bathroom. Buffy glanced at the clock on her side of the bed. "Gotta get up," she said. "Gotta fix Dawn's breakfast and see her off to school. I can't let Tara do it again today. You can stay here and get some more sleep. You had a longer night than I did."
"Right, Luv," Spike said. But he didn't close his eyes till after Buffy left the room. It was too much fun watching her get dressed, her hair swinging and her skin glowing in the soft morning light.
Of course they didn't do much sleeping during the rest of the day as Buffy had thought they should. But she was quite relaxed by the time she started getting dressed to meet Dawn's teacher.
"I want to look serious and conservative," she said, as she looked through her clothes closet. I hope they're not calling me in to complain about Dawn. She's been studying more. I know she has. And Zachary's really has been helping her. They don't just sit around making goo-goo eyes at each other."
"No, that boy's got a right old egghead on his shoulders," Spike agreed. "He actually enjoys school work. Which is more than I could ever say of me."
"Well, I think he's good for Dawn in lots of ways. So . . . what do you think?" Buffy did a twirl to show off her conservative skirt and blouse and sensible shoes.
"Very posh," Spike said appreciatively. "You gonna meet the Shadows in those duds?"
"No. I'm got some extra slay clothes down at the Magic Box in the training room," she said patting, her hair into place. "OK. Gotta run. I'm late. See you later."
"Bye, Luv," Spike called after her.
Once she was gone, Spike got up and went downstairs for some blood and some telly watching. Then, just as the sky was darkening, he headed off to the Magic Box. He was only a block away when he heard someone go, "Psst," behind him. When he turned around, he saw what he thought was Buffy. It certainly looked like Buffy. Her hair was drawn back in a different hairstyle than the one she'd worn when she'd gone out earlier and she had on a more casual outfit. But he'd been expecting her to change anyway from her teacher-meeting duds.
"What is it, Luv?" he asked, approaching her.
But the Buffy figure didn't speak. She waved her hand silently, motioning for him to follow her. Which he did, zapping to her side in quick vampire fashion.
"What's up?" he asked again.
The Buffy figure put a finger to her mouth, telling him to be quiet. Then she continued on down the street toward an alleyway two blocks from the Magic Box.
"Why so secretive?" Spike asked. "Are we playing a game?" He stretched his right hand out behind her and ran it familiarly up the Buffy figure's rear end. The Buffy figure jumped in surprise, but kept moving forward, only quicker now. "You still feeling a might frisky, Luv?" Spike asked. "Wasn't this morning and this afternoon enough for you?"
The Buffy figure closed its eyes for a split second and gulped. It wasn't really Buffy. It was Jonathan, using an illusion to make himself look like Buffy, in order to lure Spike to the nearby alleyway. They knew Spike hung out with Buffy sometimes and that they worked together. But they hadn't thought there was anything else between them. Warren had told Jonathan and Andrew about the Buffy-bot that Warren had made for Spike . . . with all those special talents. But they had taken that to mean that there was nothing romantic or sexual going on between them. Evidently that had changed. Spike's hand on what he thought was Buffy's ass, and his words about this morning and this afternoon told a completely different story. Jonathan prayed hard that Warren's new device would render Spike harmless, otherwise he could end up in a very embarrassing situation.
Even though Warren had been raving all the way over about getting the diamond back and taking revenge on Spike, Jonathan had been hoping to get him to reconsider what they'd originally talked about in reference to Spike, back when he'd first come to them about the chip in his head. Jonathan had been hoping they could convince Spike to switch over to their side against Buffy. Maybe be their double agent, using Warren's device as a sort of encourager. Jonathan had thought Spike might hold a grudge against Buffy because of the chip (because he figured it likely that she had been the one to muzzle him). Only now . . . he wasn't so sure. He had a feeling things were going to be get very ugly.
Jonathan picked up his pace yet again.
"Buffy, what is up with you?" Spike asked.
Jonathan ran the last few yards into the alley, past a waiting Warren. As soon as Spike came around the bend, Warren switched on his device.
Immediately, searing pain shot through Spike's head. It felt as if his brain were being burned from the inside out. He was vaguely aware that it was the chip, but it was worse than anything he'd ever experienced. And the pain wouldn't allow for much thinking. His eyes closed but he still saw a white light flashing behind his eyes. "Aaah!" Spike called out as he sank to his knees.
"It works!" Warren said, jumping up and down. "It works!" He raised the power up still higher.
Spike cried out in agony again and then fell forward onto the asphalt, unconsciousness.
"See how powerful it is?" Warren said, his bloodshot eyes glinting triumphantly.
"Yes," Jonathan said, turning back into himself. "But he's out now. Don't you think you should turn that thing off?"
"Oh, yeah. Guess I can." Warren turned off the remote and stuck it into his pocket. Then he fell on Spike's still form and started rifling through his clothes.
"What are you doing?" Jonathan asked. "Shouldn't we be getting him into the van before someone sees us?"
"I'm looking for the diamond. It's got to be here." Warren ripped through Spike's pockets but came up with very little. There some cigarettes, his lighter, and a set of keys. Warren held up the keys. "Wonder what these are to. What does a vampire need keys for?"
Jonathan had a pretty good idea that they were to Buffy's house, but he didn't want to discuss it just then. He had visions of Buffy coming down the block and seeing them bent over her boyfriend's prone body. He had a feeling she wouldn't be very nice about it. "We've got to get him out of here. You can check his pockets again once we get him in the van. We're not very far from the place where Buffy and her friends hang out. One of them might come by. Help me get him inside."
Warren complied. But as soon as the van took off, he started checking through Spike's pockets again. "Where is it?" he wailed.
In the enclosed space Jonathan was very aware that Warren hadn't seen the inside of a bath or a shower in several days. And that wasn't all, his beard had grown out, his hair was matted down and he had mad hungry look in his bloodshot eyes. From what Jonathan had been able to discern, Warren hadn't slept in several days, nor had he eaten much of anything. He also mumbled a lot, sounding a bit like one of his bots, shorted out.
"Where could it be," Warren asked himself. "Maybe he got rid of it. Or maybe he gave it away. No! How could he do that! He couldn't. It MUST be here! But it's not, it's not. Maybe it's gone for good. No. It's can't be." He started whimpering. "It's got to come back to me. But if it's gone, what do I do? I don't know. I don't know what to do." Warren began rocking himself back and forth. "Gotta get it back or gotta have revenge. Gotta get it back or gotta have revenge. Gotta get it back or gotta have revenge . . ." And so went the refrain, on and on.
Jonathan didn't say anything. There was no getting through to Warren while he was like this. He figured after they got back to Warren's, maybe then he would try and get him to see some reason.
- - - - - - - - - -
"Where is he?" Buffy asked looking out the front door of the Magic Box with irritation. It was fully dark by then and Spike should have been there long ago.
"Probably just lost track of time," Xander said.
Zachary had gone home on his own after school that day because Dawn and Buffy were supposed to meet with Dawn's teacher. After the conference, Dawn had gone with Buffy to the Magic Box and was now using Xander as her tester in history. He was reading off questions from her text book and she was answering them. The two of them were seated comfortably at the circular table in the center of the shop. Dawn was in a good mood because her teacher had basically called Buffy in to tell her that Dawn was starting to improve. Dawn was hoping that that would soon lead to renewed privileges and later evenings with Zachary.
"I swear, I will dust Spike when he gets here," Buffy said with feeling.
"Maybe he just fell asleep," Dawn said. "Try calling him at home to see if he's left yet."
Buffy went to the back of the shop and called the house. But there was no answer. She slammed the phone down and growled, "Where is he?"
"Easy on the phone back there," Anya said. "It's a sturdy old thing, but it costs money."
"I can't wait much longer," Buffy said.
"You want me to go with you instead?" Xander offered. "That is, if Anya doesn't need me."
"No. I'm fine," Anya said. "Only, I don't know if I want you to go on stake-out again. We don't have any weapons that can fight those fire jets. The crossbows you and Spike used the other night couldn't have been much use at all."
"Don't worry, Anya," Buffy said. "If Xander comes with me, I won't bring him on stake-out. Either I'll go by myself or I'll wait till tomorrow and go with Spike . . . IF I let him live."
"Well, OK. In that case . . ."
In the end Buffy went off to meet the Shadows with Xander instead of Spike. It was an easy enough meeting. Ohanzee said that he had heard that she had tried to help his people fight the Fire demons earlier in the week. He said he appreciated it. And that he had spread word among them that she was trying to help.
"My people will leave when we must," Ohanzee told Buffy in his slow way. "But not before."
"There are only two buildings left standing on that avenue," Buffy said. "Except for the warehouse at 666, that is. Do you know anything special about that building?"
"No. But I think it is their center."
"And where are they getting the magic power to do this?"
"I don't know. But, I think it is not from one being, but a group."
"A group of demons?"
"Not sure. But if it was one group, one kind of demon, we would probably know."
"Yes," Speaker said. He was there also at the meeting. "Things get out, you know around town. Especially at Willy's. If one specific group of demons was involved, we would have heard. I've been keeping an ear out."
"So. What are you saying? It's a group made up of different types of demons and they've hired on the Fire demons to do their dirty work."
"The Fire demons," Ohanzee said, "before they always had too much pride to be hirelings. This new power must have looked good to them."
And what was the point to all of this anyway, Buffy wondered. To take over Sunnydale? Or open up the Hellmouth again? "I'm going over there and look around some more."
"My people will help you," Ohanzee said. "But the Fire demons will not be around tonight. Police will be there tonight because of last night's fire. The guns of the police frighten the Fire demons."
Guns, Buffy thought. Spike had wanted to use guns. But if these fire jets were created by magic, perhaps they could fight them with magic. "I'll go down tomorrow then maybe," Buffy said. "I don't particularly want to meet the police either. I also want to talk to my people about possible weapons. I'll let you get back to whatever it was you were doing. And I'll let Speaker know if I need to talk to you again."
"You can come here any time. I or one of my people will talk to you," Ohanzee said.
"Yeah," Speaker agreed. "Most of my people are down here now too. So you can talk to them also. But anything else you need, just ask me."
"Well, actually," Buffy said. "There is something, Speaker."
"Anything, Slayer," the little Nazari said. "My people want to help get our homes back."
"If you see Mr., uh, Spike, would you tell him I need him to get in touch with me as soon as possible."
"He is missing then?"
"Only since this evening," Buffy said, with a glance toward Xander. "He was supposed to be at this meeting and he isn't here."
"I will ask around Willy's. Many know him there."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Buffy whispered under her breath as she turned to go.
Once outside Buffy thanked Xander for accompanying her.
"No problem," he said. "Those Shadows are real formal, aren't they?"
"Yeah, a bit."
"And the Nazari, when I look at him I kinda feel like I'm in Star Wars."
Buffy laughed. "Yeah, I can see that. You should see him sitting at a poker table. He can barely see over it."
"So, you think Spike is hanging at Willy's?"
"If he is, I'll kill him. He promised me he was giving up kitten poker. On the way back, could you drop me at the cemetery? I'll check his crypt and see if he's been there. I also know where he hides his motor cycle. I'll check and see if it's there. He better have a good excuse about where he's been."
- - - - - - - - - -
When Spike came to, he found himself strapped by various chains and straps to a table in Warren's basement. Of course he didn't know where he was right away. But Warren's head looming over him told him pretty quick. For a moment Spike didn't know who it was. The young man's face was twisted from advancing madness and lack of sleep. "Warren?" Spike said. "What in the bloody hell do you think you're playing at here? When I get my hands on you, I'll break your bloody head off."
"Don't think so," Warren cackled. "You can't hurt me. I'm human!"
Spike squinted at him, not comprehending.
"That's right. I know your secret. About what the chip in your head does. And, I've made this little box here so that I can control the pain impulses. See." Warren held up the little remote control. "I can turn it on." He did so, but on a low setting.
Spike reacted immediately as the pain hit him. He closed his eyes and slammed his head back onto the table. But he kept himself from crying out.
"And I can turn it off," Warren said, doing so. "Convinced."
"All right, Mate," Spike said, his tone less cocky. "That's a right smart box you've got there. Now, what do you want?"
"Not much. Just my diamond . . . And of course some revenge."
"What Warren means," Jonathan said nervously, "is that we want the diamond back and if you cooperate you won't get hurt."
"I didn't mean that at all," Warren said. "I fully intend to hurt him. But before I do, I want the diamond back."
"Uh, Dude," Jonathan whispered, "don't you think we'd get a little further if you at least pretended that we were going to work with him? I mean, why should he work with us if he knows we're gonna hurt him anyway?"
"Don't tell me, let me guess," Spike said, looking from one to the other of the humans. "Warren here is the one who stole the diamond from the museum. Or at the very least, he's the one that kept it in his hot little hands."
"Well, uh . . ." said Jonathan.
"That's right," Warren interrupted, "It's mine and I want it back. Hand it over!"
Spike laughed. "You know I don't have it. You must have searched me already. Truth is, I haven't got it anymore."
"Where is it?" Warren screamed, wrapping his hands around Spike's neck. Of course, he wasn't strong enough to actually hurt the vampire. But it was a good demonstration of his madness. "Give it back. Give it back."
"Not likely I'd tell you, is it? It's gone, that's all. And you should be glad. That diamond's got a curse on it."
"A curse?" Jonathan asked.
"Yeah. Only works on humans. Drives the one who owns it mad, burns their brains out till there's nothing left."
"I'm not mad," Warren insisted. "But you will be if I turn this little remote control on and just let it keep running."
"Jonathan, you'd better do something about your little friend here," Spike said. "Maybe we can find something to make him well. But if he doesn't get help, his brain will just go all to pieces. Seems like there's not much left as it is."
A curse. That made sense to Jonathan. Ever since the diamond had come to them, Warren hadn't acted normally, not even for him. Maybe now that they knew what it was they could find a cure, something to counteract the curse. "I think we should end this," Jonathan said to his mad friend. "You're not well. You need help."
"No I don't!" Warren yelled. "I'm fine. Ask Andrew."
Spike looked around the room, but didn't see any sign of the third member of the Triad. He looked at Jonathan questioningly.
"Don't ask," Jonathan said to Spike.
"Andrew says I'm perfectly fine and that I'm making lots of sense," Warren said.
Spike's dark eyebrows wandered up his face in confusion.
"Look, maybe I can find something at my house," Jonathan offered backing up toward the door. "I have lots of books on magic and curses and . . ."
"You're not going anywhere," Warren said. From under his desk he pulled a high tech looking gun and pointed it directly at Jonathan's chest. "Andrew and I made this while the computer was running diagnostics on the chip. You can do an awful lot when you cut out eating and sleeping. You can live a whole `nother life. We're thinking of calling this a Molecular Disturber."
"A what?" Jonathan asked.
"A Molecular Disturber. I know it's not a great name, but Andrew and I will come up with a snappier once we get a few extra moments. Basically what it does is separate all of your molecules from each other. And you just sort of go poof. Course I haven't tried it out yet. Shall I test it on you?"
"No. That's all right," Jonathan said, his hands up. Warren may have been mad, but he was still an electronic genius. Jonathan had no doubt that this new little gadget could do just what he said it did.
"Good. Now you sit down over there, nice and quiet. While I talk to our friend here."
Jonathan slowly did as he was told. He'd have to wait for his chance to escape a little while longer.
"Now," Warren said, walking back to Spike. "Where is my diamond?"
"Not telling," Spike said.
"Oh, that's too bad. But I have a feeling you will, in a while." He turned on the remote control and Spike's muscles convulsed in pain. "Think about it. But don't take too long, or I'll up the power. And feel free to cry out. I had the place sound proofed so the sound of all my machinery wouldn't bother my mom."
Spike writhed in agony, but he refused to cry out. He didn't want to give Warren the satisfaction. And he wasn't going to tell Warren where the diamond was, no matter what. The guy was clearly off his bird, ready for Bedlam. Even though Buffy and Willow might be able to take care of themselves, he couldn't let this nut job anywhere near Dawn or Tara. He couldn't say anything.
"Still, not talking?" Warren said. "Well, I'll just up the power a little." And he did.
The white lights started to appear behind Spike's eyes again. He tried to think of a way to escape it.
"Go ahead, don't tell me," Warren said. "It's more fun this way. Also, after your brain burns out and your personality is gone, I might be able to get one of my little toys to control you. Make you into my own private little vampire zombie. I'll make you kill and destroy anyone and anything I want. Won't that be fun!" He tittered to himself. "No, Andrew," he continued out loud to the other entity that was supposed sharing his deteriorating brain, "we cannot have a sandwich to celebrate. Don't be a wimp."
Spike heard Warren's words and tried to fight the pain. If only he could escape it. If only he could leave and become someone else, someone that Warren could never use, no matter how hard he tried. Someone like that bloody wanker he had been before Dru had found him. William. William the bloody awful poet, who couldn't think about anything but words and rhymes and his love for a pretty girl who would never love him back. William could never be used to do anyone's dirty work. He was too much of a milquetoast. Maybe if he pretended that he were back in his mother's parlor again in London as William, writing out pretty words in long hand . . .