Title: Hurricane, Chapter 8: Riding Out the Chaos
Author: Sandy S.
E-mail: ssoennin@juno.com
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN.
Spoilers: Set a few years after season 6
Dedication: For Thia...who is a new and dear friend and whose creativity
inspires me! :o)
This chapter is also for my friend and sweet neighbor, Sarah, whom I've
made a character in most of my stories. In this one, she wanted to be a
witch, and she helped me brainstorm how the events were to unfold. So,
this is for you, Sarah, dear!
Summary: Dawn, a lot of blood, a disappearance, a search. Buffy's worst
nightmare comes true. Spike's POV. What's happening to Spike in Alaska?
Riding Out the Chaos
"Bring it on/Let the lightning flash, let the thunder roll, let the storm winds blow/Bring it on/Let the trouble come, let the hard rain fall, let it make me strong/Bring it on." -From the song, "Bring It On," by Steven Curtis Chapman
"Good morning, sleepyhead."
My senses were suddenly filled with sharp pain and the sound of skin contacting my own skin, igniting all the nerves in my cheek and jaw. My eyes flew open.
"Callie?"
Her pale face surrounded by a cascade of red curls, Callie smiled down at me. Her grey eyes glittered with malice, and I realized she had her long legs around my waist, pinning me to the platform I laid atop. My hands and feet were bound tightly with heavy chains. I was in a large cavern that had been modernized with dim electric lights. I couldn't see any other furniture in the open space, but heard the faint hum of central heat and the soft clicking of what sounded like electronic equipment...computers, video equipment, or something.
An unfamiliar masculine voice sounded behind me, "Her name's not actually Callie." To no avail, I strained to catch a glimpse of who was speaking. "It's Calypso. She's my pride and joy. I named her after the sea nymph who captured Odysseus in Greek mythology."
"'Concealer,'" I said with irony. My memory for the past few conscious events seeped slowly through my mind.
The deep-throated chuckle was not what I expected. "Ah, a well-read vampire. I am surprised that any vampire that ran in Angel and Darla's circles would be educated. After all, Angelus was a drunken bar brawler, and Darla was a prostitute...no matter what kind of fancy clothes and airs they wore."
I growled under my breath and said, "I should have known that the unbearably annoying Jonah was behind this scheme."
"My name is no longer Jonah. I'm no longer 'the dove.'"
Straining my body against the cold metal, I laced my tone with sarcasm, "So, what name did you choose this time? Hopefully, something that means idiot ponce and psycho rolled into one."
"Walter, I chose Walter," he said proudly.
"'Powerful warrior'? That's a good one." I tried to arch my neck back. "Why don't you come around front, so I can see you? You bloody well have me tied down at the moment, and I like to see the one I'm talking to." I shifted my hips, trying to throw Callie...Calypso to the side. She clung to my body tightly. "And tell your bird to get off of me."
"Calypso, come."
With an eagerness that made me roll my eyes, Calypso sprang from me and hurried toward the person that strode into my field of vision. Grabbing my captor's arm, she snuggled against him and gazed up at him with puppy-dog eyes. I frowned at the sight because my brain was still having trouble contemplating that the Callie from Oklahoma was the Calypso who betrayed me. I followed the line of her body to take in Walter, or whatever his name was now.
I knew Garrek's son had to be around two hundred years old and should be long dead and rotting in the ground, but the man before me appeared to be only around forty. His hair was thick, dark, and greying slightly around the temples. He had a slender frame and wore a pair of casual dark slacks and a dark blue shirt. Unlike Garrek, he was clean shaven, and he wore a pair of thin glasses without frames perched on his nose. I reasoned that Garrek's magicks couldn't give him twenty-twenty vision. He could have been easily mistaken for a young professional in corporate America.
"What're you staring at so hard, my boy. Never seen a vampire and human in love before?" He took a moment to brush his lips across Calypso's hand, which he clasped in his. "Oh, wait, you are in love with a human girl...the *Vampire Slayer*...killer of your kind, no less. Her name's Buffy, right?" He laughed when he witnessed the flinch I tried and failed to hold back. "It's going to be great fun when she and her friends arrive." I was proud that I was able to hold back my reaction at his second provocative statement.
Calypso grinned adoringly at Walter. He stroked her hair in much the same way I used to touch Drusilla...only this time, the female wasn't the insane one. While they were distracted with each other, I tested the chains once again, hoping desperately for a weak point.
Walter clamped an icy hand on my forearm. "Nope, young fellow. You'll be free of your chains soon enough, but not quite yet." He smiled condescendingly when I ceased squirming to glare at him. "Now, tell me, do you have any questions? I'd be happy to answer them at this time. I'm quite delighted with the results of my scenario so far."
"This is just a game to you, isn't it, you sodding bastard?" I blurted, not bothering to hide my disdain.
When his smile widened, I wanted to claw his eyes out like Drusilla used to do with her victims or when she didn't particularly like someone. In a frightening sort of way, he reminded me of myself when Drusilla and I used to cook up schemes to take over different cities. The difference was that now, I had a soul, felt remorse for the past, and was absolutely certain that I had *never* been as twisted as Walter. Dru and I had always limited ourselves to the conquering of the demon world in a particular area...not the human populace.
"Excellent opening question! Why, yes, I only engage in this sort of activity for personal amusement. I mean, my father wanted the money and the power. Me? I just enjoy the manipulation. I like to pick at a person's weak points and watch them crumble before me. I derive great pleasure out of planning each step of the sequence of events so that I may attain maximum pain in another person...human or demon. It's quite fun to see them going about doing things that they think they chose to do but that *I* actually orchestrated myself. The way they react to certain events or to each other...I like knowing that I created that reaction. And I am especially pleased that they know nothing about my part of their predicament."
"Except this time, we have you at a disadvantage because you've revealed yourself."
"This time," he countered, "I wanted my actions to be known and confronted. Let's just say, I'm getting quite a rush out of knowing that you are aware of the situation and yet, are powerless to stop it. For you see, that, too, was part of my plan. Buffy's on her way with all her little friends, and there'll be surprises waiting for her."
As Walter revealed his true nature, Calypso was rubbing herself leisurely against him and pressing small kisses and nips on his neck. I tried to block her out, hardly able to stand looking at her. "So, you planned everything? You set up the situation with Dawn and I to make it look like I hurt Dawn. You set up the card game with Paul and Callie. You purposefully left a trail for us to find Garrek. You had the demon ritual planted, so we could free the humans."
He clapped joyfully. "Yes, my dear boy, yes! Now you're getting it! I planned everything."
"But, why the hell would you lead our group to Garrek...the source of your ability to stay alive? Doesn't seem too smart if you ask me."
"Yes, sadly, my father was killed. But, then again, that was planned, too." Walter leaned in close so that his nose almost touched my own. I slipped instantly into game face and snapped at him. He calmly took a step back. "No. I don't think so. I want to finish telling you my story. Where was I?...Oh, yes. My father. I was ready for him to die. I mean, if you lived under your father's shadow for about two hundred years or so, wouldn't you want him gone from your life? I need to stand on my own feet...so I can truly lay claim to my work."
"Got a little inferiority complex going there, Walt?" I taunted. "Kind of like what you had going with the Master, isn't it?"
He stuck his bottom lip out in a half-pout. "No. I just wanted to get both of those idiots out of my life. I always knew my father and the Master were less than me, but for some reason, I never got full credit."
"How are you surviving? I mean, technically, you should be quite dead without Garrek's magicks sustaining you."
"Funny you should ask. I have others to assist me in the matter of survival but mainly the one you're about to meet." Walter raised his arm, pushing Calypso away and motioning toward the shadows. "Sayre! Come out, my sweet princess. Time to play."
A statuesque, youthful vampiress with clear ivory skin, hazel eyes, and auburn hair pulled up in a chignon with a few stray curls framing her face glided noiselessly across the floor to Walter's side. She was cloaked in a long flowing indigo blue dress that floated about her like a stream of water. In her arms, she carried a long-haired, orangish-red cat who lazily stared with wide golden eyes at his surroundings as if he was a miniature lion surveying his territory.
Her voice was like a thousand silvery bells that confused my thoughts, "Yes?"
Walter kissed her cheek. "Sayre, meet Spike. He's the one I told you that you were going to be allowed to play with."
At his words, Sayre turned to me, hungrily raking her sparkling eyes over my body. "Really?" Her tone was not childish or overly eager, just contemplative, like she was examining a piece of meat for purchase.
"Yes, my sweet. He's all yours."
"Good." She swayed hypnotically toward me.
Walter motioned to Calypso, who regained her hold on him. He turned and as he was walking away, he said saucily, "I'm going now, my dear boy. Don't kill him, Sayre. We need him alive. I'll be watching you both."
* * *
With Walter gone, Sayre approached me with feline grace and set her cat down at my feet. "Occam, little puss, time to help your mommy."
Occam meowed at his mistress and began padding his way silently up my body until he reached my abdomen and chest. When he arrived at my bare skin, he started kneading his paws and purring in a low tone. His claws were like needles digging deep into my skin, and I felt blood begin flowing down the sides of my rib cage. As the intensity of his kneading increased, the volume of his purrs amplified. When the cat's sound of contentment reached a maximum, I thought my eardrums might burst.
Without warning, the sound ended, and the warm, solid animal on my stomach suddenly melted into an orange liquid mass that was swallowed into my flesh. My nostrils were filled with the sharp essence of cinnamon that tickled and stung the back of my throat.
Something in my flesh began moving, and I lifted my head to view my bare skin. I stared in shock. Little worms were wiggling and pushing into and out of the tissues covering my skeleton. A horrible smell of rotting skin punctuated the movements, and I had a strong urge to scratch myself and relieve the itching.
I turned my head and tried to ignore the sights, smell, and crawling feeling that permeated my senses. Rebelling against my efforts, my stomach knotted and turned, and before I knew what was happening, bile rose up the back of my throat. Although I fought valiantly, I was unable to prevent the bile from exploding out of my mouth and nose. I heaved until my body could heave no more. Then, I sank back covered in sweat, feeling drained of energy. My wrists ached and bled from the pressure against the chains.
Several minutes passed.
Gradually, my senses returned to normal, and I discovered that I still had a voice, albeit a hoarse one, "You think that's enough to break me, witch?"
Sayre appeared quietly at my side. "Ahhh, no, I was just testing you out...to see what you can take."
Waving her hand over my face, she chanted a barely audible incantation. My mouth was instantly refreshed and tasted like peppermints. Sayre bent over me, filling my mind with pictures of sunshine and wildflowers. Her mouth was soft as her lips pressed over mine, and she tasted of cherries and wine. I refused to kiss her back and concentrated on my memories of Buffy...the last time I had seen her...fighting...worried...beautiful. Sayre flicked her tongue over my teeth and then, moved away.
"I just needed a tiny taste to get things just right for you," she murmured gently. The shadows swallowed her....
* * *
At that moment, I found myself free of the chains and in a squatting position in the middle of a huge field covered in short stones that stuck up from the grass...a cemetery. I felt and smelled the presence of five other vampires behind me. Leaping lightly to my feet, I turned to face my adversaries in an attack position.
"Spike! What are you doing?" one of the vampires hissed.
"What's it sodding look like I'm doing, mate? I'm fighting you!" I swung my leg up and kicked the vampire in the stomach. He fell to the dirt with a satisfyingly loud groan. Scooping up a sturdy branch nearby, I jammed the wood into my adversary's heart, causing him to explode into a cloud of dust.
The four other vampires seemed briefly stunned. At once, they ran toward me, throwing punches and kicks and dodging my blows. They were poor fighters. I overcame them within seconds. About to stalk away and find my way out of wherever I was, I whirled and was pinned down by a large hulking bearded figure.
"Garrek! I thought you were dead."
Garrek chuckled, pulling me to my feet. "Not in this lifetime, boy!"
"What's with the 'boy' comments?" Walter and now Garrek kept calling me "boy," which was grating my nerves.
A sharp crack resounded as Garrek slapped me to the ground. He was a rather large vampire and possessed more strength than I remembered. "I don't take insolence from *any* of my minions, and certainly not from you!" He dragged me up by the nape of my neck. "And what the hell did you do to your superiors?" He gestured at the four vampires who were slowly regaining consciousness.
"Superiors? That bunch? They couldn't hurt a fruit fly!" I stood, rubbing my jaw.
Garrek flicked his wrist at me, and I was suspended in the air. "I will not tolerate your behavior." He glanced at my attackers and grunted, "Take him home and do something with him while I hunt!"
The other vampires, whose appearance remained shrouded in shadows despite my vampire visual acuity, forced me to a mausoleum with multiple rooms on the north end of the cemetery. The vampires chained me to the top of a tomb and proceeded to inflict various forms of torture on me. They stripped me naked. One vampire began pouring holy water down my chest, abdomen, thighs, and shins. The hiss of burned skin filled the air, and I focused on the noise and bit my lip hard to prevent crying out in pain. Another vampire took a knife and carved elaborate cross designs on my arms. Once the cross was complete, the pattern itself began to burn, drawing blood and singeing my flesh at the same time. I heard and smelled my blood dripping onto the tile below.
The third vampire, a female, started with my toes and broke each one individually, laughing at each crunching sound emitted by the ripping of my tendons and muscles and the breaking of my bones. When she finished my toes, she moved to my fingers. Then, I did scream with each one she broke, and the darkness threatened to overcome me. The fourth vampire was working around my head. I couldn't see him, but I caught a glimpse of fire light in my peripheral vision. I smelled smoke and burning hair. The bloody ponce set my hair on fire!
At first, I struggled but found myself utterly immobilized. Through the ocean of agony, I finally squeezed my eyes closed and forced my thoughts elsewhere. I thought of Buffy and Dawn, my angels, reminding myself of all I had to live for and that Buffy was walking into a trap. Loving them was a big part of what made me who I was. I had to make myself get through this in order to warn them...to keep them safe. Under no circumstances could I afford to lose consciousness.
Abruptly, three of the vampire presences around me dissipated. I opened my eyes and recognized the hazel eyes hovering above my blue ones. The female vampire who had broken my bones transformed into the lithe form of Sayre.
My voice was soft but clear as I spat through the throbbing ache that pulsed through my every fiber, "So, witch, that didn't work either. Give up, yet?"
She smiled down at me. Although her lips didn't move, her voice echoed in my mind, "You're strong....that makes it fun."
"Not convincing enough. That last little scenario worked less than the worms...." My voice dwindled, and I paused to cough harshly. "Gotta remember, I know how this mojo stuff works. Dru used it for over a century when I was with her. Learned a few things."
"We'll see." Her fingers flickered over my face, and tiny sparks drifted into my eyes....
* * *
Feeling something warm pressed up against me, I opened my eyes slowly, realizing that nothing in my body hurt. I wiggled my toes and fingers. Nope, not broken. My fingertips swept over the skin on my arms and bare chest. No burns or scrapes.
A quiet moan met my ears. I smiled.
I dreamed the entire thing...all the nightmare of Oklahoma, Callie, the demons, Dawn. Buffy was fast asleep beside me in our bed. Pulling her close to spoon her next to me, I nuzzled her silky hair and searched for her hand to hold. Even in her sleep, she sighed happily and clasped my hand in hers. Wanting another dream to replace the horrible one I just had, I let my thoughts drift into the darkness.
On the edge of dreams, I was startled by the telephone ringing. Buffy jerked in my embrace and frantically searched for the cordless phone she kept on the night stand.
"H-hello?" Buffy spoke hoarsely.
I heard a distinct male voice on the line but couldn't quite make out what he was saying.
"Yea, okay. I'll be there. Bye." She hung up the phone with a click and untangled herself from my arms as she stood. The spot where she had been radiated her forsaken body heat.
"Love, what are you doing?" I watched as she dressed in black leather pants and a light-colored blouse. She twirled her long hair into a ponytail that swung lightly when she released the hair band.
"To the dance studio. Carver is fixing the hardwood floor boards in the corner of the room, and he misplaced his key. He didn't want to bother the boss, so he called me." I noticed she didn't look me in the eye.
"Why now? It's..." I rose up to balance on my elbow and glanced at the alarm clock, "five-thirty in the bloody morning. Aren't most humans asleep about now?"
She bent to kiss my forehead gently. "Yeah, well, he was supposed to have this done yesterday. I'm just helping him stay out of trouble. I might or might not be back later."
"Okay," I muttered in disappointment as she hurried out of the room.
Falling back against the pillows after the door shut downstairs, a sudden thought struck me. Completely shifting directions, I leapt out from under the blankets, mimicking Buffy's earlier harried movements to dress. Fairly flying down the stairs, I grabbed my duster and the keys to my DeSota. I noted that I couldn't hear Dawn's even breathing, so I assumed she was at a friend's house. Even before the garage door was completely open, I was backing onto the driveway. Not paying attention, I shattered the side mirror of my car on the edge of the garage. I ignored the mess and drove into the street and toward the dance studio a few blocks over.
Quivering in anticipation and fear, I parked my vehicle next to Carver's truck and Buffy's car. Rushing through the front office of the tiny dance studio, I found myself staring at a scene I wished had never seen. My dear Buffy was in the arms of the stupid, bloody carpenter, kissing him passionately. Willing myself not to sink to the ground in grief, I turned away with my back rigid and cleared my throat.
Her tone was hard, "Spike."
I didn't say anything back because I was afraid of what would come out of my mouth. Listening to her footsteps approaching me, I bowed my head. Thankfully, she couldn't see the tears rolling down my face.
"Do you want to know why I did this?" She was near me now.
"No." My voice cracked, betraying my sorrow.
"Because, how could I possibly be with the man...vampire...creature who couldn't even protect my sister?"
"W-what? What happened to Dawn?"
Her emerald eyes were full of a hate that she had not borne for me in three years. "You damned well know that she's dead. And it's all your fault. You didn't protect her when I asked you to. My god, Spike, where is your brain? How could you forget that the vampires got Dawn and that you let them?"
"B-but, I don't remember." I was desperate to understand. Dawn was dead? I couldn't even begin to fathom her death.
"How convenient....you lost your memory. Well, I don't buy it. I haven't trusted you since Dawn died, and I'm kind of glad you found Carver and I together. Maybe now you'll finally understand that we're really through this time."
Then, I melted to the floor with the certain feeling that this wasn't real. Burying my head in my hands and pretending to sob, I hardly heard Buffy and Carver leave the dance studio.
When I was certain they were gone several minutes later, I was on my feet. "Okay, Sayre, I got the drill down now. That one almost got to me. You're getting a little better at this. So, come on out and bring me the next wave of mind games."
Sayre's words sang only in my head. "Oh, no, we're done with these games. I didn't expect or want you to believe that this was real. It still affected you and that's what counts. Now, we await round two."
Round two? That sounded depressingly familiar.
the end of chapter 8
**Note: Sayre means "princess." Carver means "woodcarver."**
Riding Out the Chaos
"Bring it on/Let the lightning flash, let the thunder roll, let the storm winds blow/Bring it on/Let the trouble come, let the hard rain fall, let it make me strong/Bring it on." -From the song, "Bring It On," by Steven Curtis Chapman
"Good morning, sleepyhead."
My senses were suddenly filled with sharp pain and the sound of skin contacting my own skin, igniting all the nerves in my cheek and jaw. My eyes flew open.
"Callie?"
Her pale face surrounded by a cascade of red curls, Callie smiled down at me. Her grey eyes glittered with malice, and I realized she had her long legs around my waist, pinning me to the platform I laid atop. My hands and feet were bound tightly with heavy chains. I was in a large cavern that had been modernized with dim electric lights. I couldn't see any other furniture in the open space, but heard the faint hum of central heat and the soft clicking of what sounded like electronic equipment...computers, video equipment, or something.
An unfamiliar masculine voice sounded behind me, "Her name's not actually Callie." To no avail, I strained to catch a glimpse of who was speaking. "It's Calypso. She's my pride and joy. I named her after the sea nymph who captured Odysseus in Greek mythology."
"'Concealer,'" I said with irony. My memory for the past few conscious events seeped slowly through my mind.
The deep-throated chuckle was not what I expected. "Ah, a well-read vampire. I am surprised that any vampire that ran in Angel and Darla's circles would be educated. After all, Angelus was a drunken bar brawler, and Darla was a prostitute...no matter what kind of fancy clothes and airs they wore."
I growled under my breath and said, "I should have known that the unbearably annoying Jonah was behind this scheme."
"My name is no longer Jonah. I'm no longer 'the dove.'"
Straining my body against the cold metal, I laced my tone with sarcasm, "So, what name did you choose this time? Hopefully, something that means idiot ponce and psycho rolled into one."
"Walter, I chose Walter," he said proudly.
"'Powerful warrior'? That's a good one." I tried to arch my neck back. "Why don't you come around front, so I can see you? You bloody well have me tied down at the moment, and I like to see the one I'm talking to." I shifted my hips, trying to throw Callie...Calypso to the side. She clung to my body tightly. "And tell your bird to get off of me."
"Calypso, come."
With an eagerness that made me roll my eyes, Calypso sprang from me and hurried toward the person that strode into my field of vision. Grabbing my captor's arm, she snuggled against him and gazed up at him with puppy-dog eyes. I frowned at the sight because my brain was still having trouble contemplating that the Callie from Oklahoma was the Calypso who betrayed me. I followed the line of her body to take in Walter, or whatever his name was now.
I knew Garrek's son had to be around two hundred years old and should be long dead and rotting in the ground, but the man before me appeared to be only around forty. His hair was thick, dark, and greying slightly around the temples. He had a slender frame and wore a pair of casual dark slacks and a dark blue shirt. Unlike Garrek, he was clean shaven, and he wore a pair of thin glasses without frames perched on his nose. I reasoned that Garrek's magicks couldn't give him twenty-twenty vision. He could have been easily mistaken for a young professional in corporate America.
"What're you staring at so hard, my boy. Never seen a vampire and human in love before?" He took a moment to brush his lips across Calypso's hand, which he clasped in his. "Oh, wait, you are in love with a human girl...the *Vampire Slayer*...killer of your kind, no less. Her name's Buffy, right?" He laughed when he witnessed the flinch I tried and failed to hold back. "It's going to be great fun when she and her friends arrive." I was proud that I was able to hold back my reaction at his second provocative statement.
Calypso grinned adoringly at Walter. He stroked her hair in much the same way I used to touch Drusilla...only this time, the female wasn't the insane one. While they were distracted with each other, I tested the chains once again, hoping desperately for a weak point.
Walter clamped an icy hand on my forearm. "Nope, young fellow. You'll be free of your chains soon enough, but not quite yet." He smiled condescendingly when I ceased squirming to glare at him. "Now, tell me, do you have any questions? I'd be happy to answer them at this time. I'm quite delighted with the results of my scenario so far."
"This is just a game to you, isn't it, you sodding bastard?" I blurted, not bothering to hide my disdain.
When his smile widened, I wanted to claw his eyes out like Drusilla used to do with her victims or when she didn't particularly like someone. In a frightening sort of way, he reminded me of myself when Drusilla and I used to cook up schemes to take over different cities. The difference was that now, I had a soul, felt remorse for the past, and was absolutely certain that I had *never* been as twisted as Walter. Dru and I had always limited ourselves to the conquering of the demon world in a particular area...not the human populace.
"Excellent opening question! Why, yes, I only engage in this sort of activity for personal amusement. I mean, my father wanted the money and the power. Me? I just enjoy the manipulation. I like to pick at a person's weak points and watch them crumble before me. I derive great pleasure out of planning each step of the sequence of events so that I may attain maximum pain in another person...human or demon. It's quite fun to see them going about doing things that they think they chose to do but that *I* actually orchestrated myself. The way they react to certain events or to each other...I like knowing that I created that reaction. And I am especially pleased that they know nothing about my part of their predicament."
"Except this time, we have you at a disadvantage because you've revealed yourself."
"This time," he countered, "I wanted my actions to be known and confronted. Let's just say, I'm getting quite a rush out of knowing that you are aware of the situation and yet, are powerless to stop it. For you see, that, too, was part of my plan. Buffy's on her way with all her little friends, and there'll be surprises waiting for her."
As Walter revealed his true nature, Calypso was rubbing herself leisurely against him and pressing small kisses and nips on his neck. I tried to block her out, hardly able to stand looking at her. "So, you planned everything? You set up the situation with Dawn and I to make it look like I hurt Dawn. You set up the card game with Paul and Callie. You purposefully left a trail for us to find Garrek. You had the demon ritual planted, so we could free the humans."
He clapped joyfully. "Yes, my dear boy, yes! Now you're getting it! I planned everything."
"But, why the hell would you lead our group to Garrek...the source of your ability to stay alive? Doesn't seem too smart if you ask me."
"Yes, sadly, my father was killed. But, then again, that was planned, too." Walter leaned in close so that his nose almost touched my own. I slipped instantly into game face and snapped at him. He calmly took a step back. "No. I don't think so. I want to finish telling you my story. Where was I?...Oh, yes. My father. I was ready for him to die. I mean, if you lived under your father's shadow for about two hundred years or so, wouldn't you want him gone from your life? I need to stand on my own feet...so I can truly lay claim to my work."
"Got a little inferiority complex going there, Walt?" I taunted. "Kind of like what you had going with the Master, isn't it?"
He stuck his bottom lip out in a half-pout. "No. I just wanted to get both of those idiots out of my life. I always knew my father and the Master were less than me, but for some reason, I never got full credit."
"How are you surviving? I mean, technically, you should be quite dead without Garrek's magicks sustaining you."
"Funny you should ask. I have others to assist me in the matter of survival but mainly the one you're about to meet." Walter raised his arm, pushing Calypso away and motioning toward the shadows. "Sayre! Come out, my sweet princess. Time to play."
A statuesque, youthful vampiress with clear ivory skin, hazel eyes, and auburn hair pulled up in a chignon with a few stray curls framing her face glided noiselessly across the floor to Walter's side. She was cloaked in a long flowing indigo blue dress that floated about her like a stream of water. In her arms, she carried a long-haired, orangish-red cat who lazily stared with wide golden eyes at his surroundings as if he was a miniature lion surveying his territory.
Her voice was like a thousand silvery bells that confused my thoughts, "Yes?"
Walter kissed her cheek. "Sayre, meet Spike. He's the one I told you that you were going to be allowed to play with."
At his words, Sayre turned to me, hungrily raking her sparkling eyes over my body. "Really?" Her tone was not childish or overly eager, just contemplative, like she was examining a piece of meat for purchase.
"Yes, my sweet. He's all yours."
"Good." She swayed hypnotically toward me.
Walter motioned to Calypso, who regained her hold on him. He turned and as he was walking away, he said saucily, "I'm going now, my dear boy. Don't kill him, Sayre. We need him alive. I'll be watching you both."
* * *
With Walter gone, Sayre approached me with feline grace and set her cat down at my feet. "Occam, little puss, time to help your mommy."
Occam meowed at his mistress and began padding his way silently up my body until he reached my abdomen and chest. When he arrived at my bare skin, he started kneading his paws and purring in a low tone. His claws were like needles digging deep into my skin, and I felt blood begin flowing down the sides of my rib cage. As the intensity of his kneading increased, the volume of his purrs amplified. When the cat's sound of contentment reached a maximum, I thought my eardrums might burst.
Without warning, the sound ended, and the warm, solid animal on my stomach suddenly melted into an orange liquid mass that was swallowed into my flesh. My nostrils were filled with the sharp essence of cinnamon that tickled and stung the back of my throat.
Something in my flesh began moving, and I lifted my head to view my bare skin. I stared in shock. Little worms were wiggling and pushing into and out of the tissues covering my skeleton. A horrible smell of rotting skin punctuated the movements, and I had a strong urge to scratch myself and relieve the itching.
I turned my head and tried to ignore the sights, smell, and crawling feeling that permeated my senses. Rebelling against my efforts, my stomach knotted and turned, and before I knew what was happening, bile rose up the back of my throat. Although I fought valiantly, I was unable to prevent the bile from exploding out of my mouth and nose. I heaved until my body could heave no more. Then, I sank back covered in sweat, feeling drained of energy. My wrists ached and bled from the pressure against the chains.
Several minutes passed.
Gradually, my senses returned to normal, and I discovered that I still had a voice, albeit a hoarse one, "You think that's enough to break me, witch?"
Sayre appeared quietly at my side. "Ahhh, no, I was just testing you out...to see what you can take."
Waving her hand over my face, she chanted a barely audible incantation. My mouth was instantly refreshed and tasted like peppermints. Sayre bent over me, filling my mind with pictures of sunshine and wildflowers. Her mouth was soft as her lips pressed over mine, and she tasted of cherries and wine. I refused to kiss her back and concentrated on my memories of Buffy...the last time I had seen her...fighting...worried...beautiful. Sayre flicked her tongue over my teeth and then, moved away.
"I just needed a tiny taste to get things just right for you," she murmured gently. The shadows swallowed her....
* * *
At that moment, I found myself free of the chains and in a squatting position in the middle of a huge field covered in short stones that stuck up from the grass...a cemetery. I felt and smelled the presence of five other vampires behind me. Leaping lightly to my feet, I turned to face my adversaries in an attack position.
"Spike! What are you doing?" one of the vampires hissed.
"What's it sodding look like I'm doing, mate? I'm fighting you!" I swung my leg up and kicked the vampire in the stomach. He fell to the dirt with a satisfyingly loud groan. Scooping up a sturdy branch nearby, I jammed the wood into my adversary's heart, causing him to explode into a cloud of dust.
The four other vampires seemed briefly stunned. At once, they ran toward me, throwing punches and kicks and dodging my blows. They were poor fighters. I overcame them within seconds. About to stalk away and find my way out of wherever I was, I whirled and was pinned down by a large hulking bearded figure.
"Garrek! I thought you were dead."
Garrek chuckled, pulling me to my feet. "Not in this lifetime, boy!"
"What's with the 'boy' comments?" Walter and now Garrek kept calling me "boy," which was grating my nerves.
A sharp crack resounded as Garrek slapped me to the ground. He was a rather large vampire and possessed more strength than I remembered. "I don't take insolence from *any* of my minions, and certainly not from you!" He dragged me up by the nape of my neck. "And what the hell did you do to your superiors?" He gestured at the four vampires who were slowly regaining consciousness.
"Superiors? That bunch? They couldn't hurt a fruit fly!" I stood, rubbing my jaw.
Garrek flicked his wrist at me, and I was suspended in the air. "I will not tolerate your behavior." He glanced at my attackers and grunted, "Take him home and do something with him while I hunt!"
The other vampires, whose appearance remained shrouded in shadows despite my vampire visual acuity, forced me to a mausoleum with multiple rooms on the north end of the cemetery. The vampires chained me to the top of a tomb and proceeded to inflict various forms of torture on me. They stripped me naked. One vampire began pouring holy water down my chest, abdomen, thighs, and shins. The hiss of burned skin filled the air, and I focused on the noise and bit my lip hard to prevent crying out in pain. Another vampire took a knife and carved elaborate cross designs on my arms. Once the cross was complete, the pattern itself began to burn, drawing blood and singeing my flesh at the same time. I heard and smelled my blood dripping onto the tile below.
The third vampire, a female, started with my toes and broke each one individually, laughing at each crunching sound emitted by the ripping of my tendons and muscles and the breaking of my bones. When she finished my toes, she moved to my fingers. Then, I did scream with each one she broke, and the darkness threatened to overcome me. The fourth vampire was working around my head. I couldn't see him, but I caught a glimpse of fire light in my peripheral vision. I smelled smoke and burning hair. The bloody ponce set my hair on fire!
At first, I struggled but found myself utterly immobilized. Through the ocean of agony, I finally squeezed my eyes closed and forced my thoughts elsewhere. I thought of Buffy and Dawn, my angels, reminding myself of all I had to live for and that Buffy was walking into a trap. Loving them was a big part of what made me who I was. I had to make myself get through this in order to warn them...to keep them safe. Under no circumstances could I afford to lose consciousness.
Abruptly, three of the vampire presences around me dissipated. I opened my eyes and recognized the hazel eyes hovering above my blue ones. The female vampire who had broken my bones transformed into the lithe form of Sayre.
My voice was soft but clear as I spat through the throbbing ache that pulsed through my every fiber, "So, witch, that didn't work either. Give up, yet?"
She smiled down at me. Although her lips didn't move, her voice echoed in my mind, "You're strong....that makes it fun."
"Not convincing enough. That last little scenario worked less than the worms...." My voice dwindled, and I paused to cough harshly. "Gotta remember, I know how this mojo stuff works. Dru used it for over a century when I was with her. Learned a few things."
"We'll see." Her fingers flickered over my face, and tiny sparks drifted into my eyes....
* * *
Feeling something warm pressed up against me, I opened my eyes slowly, realizing that nothing in my body hurt. I wiggled my toes and fingers. Nope, not broken. My fingertips swept over the skin on my arms and bare chest. No burns or scrapes.
A quiet moan met my ears. I smiled.
I dreamed the entire thing...all the nightmare of Oklahoma, Callie, the demons, Dawn. Buffy was fast asleep beside me in our bed. Pulling her close to spoon her next to me, I nuzzled her silky hair and searched for her hand to hold. Even in her sleep, she sighed happily and clasped my hand in hers. Wanting another dream to replace the horrible one I just had, I let my thoughts drift into the darkness.
On the edge of dreams, I was startled by the telephone ringing. Buffy jerked in my embrace and frantically searched for the cordless phone she kept on the night stand.
"H-hello?" Buffy spoke hoarsely.
I heard a distinct male voice on the line but couldn't quite make out what he was saying.
"Yea, okay. I'll be there. Bye." She hung up the phone with a click and untangled herself from my arms as she stood. The spot where she had been radiated her forsaken body heat.
"Love, what are you doing?" I watched as she dressed in black leather pants and a light-colored blouse. She twirled her long hair into a ponytail that swung lightly when she released the hair band.
"To the dance studio. Carver is fixing the hardwood floor boards in the corner of the room, and he misplaced his key. He didn't want to bother the boss, so he called me." I noticed she didn't look me in the eye.
"Why now? It's..." I rose up to balance on my elbow and glanced at the alarm clock, "five-thirty in the bloody morning. Aren't most humans asleep about now?"
She bent to kiss my forehead gently. "Yeah, well, he was supposed to have this done yesterday. I'm just helping him stay out of trouble. I might or might not be back later."
"Okay," I muttered in disappointment as she hurried out of the room.
Falling back against the pillows after the door shut downstairs, a sudden thought struck me. Completely shifting directions, I leapt out from under the blankets, mimicking Buffy's earlier harried movements to dress. Fairly flying down the stairs, I grabbed my duster and the keys to my DeSota. I noted that I couldn't hear Dawn's even breathing, so I assumed she was at a friend's house. Even before the garage door was completely open, I was backing onto the driveway. Not paying attention, I shattered the side mirror of my car on the edge of the garage. I ignored the mess and drove into the street and toward the dance studio a few blocks over.
Quivering in anticipation and fear, I parked my vehicle next to Carver's truck and Buffy's car. Rushing through the front office of the tiny dance studio, I found myself staring at a scene I wished had never seen. My dear Buffy was in the arms of the stupid, bloody carpenter, kissing him passionately. Willing myself not to sink to the ground in grief, I turned away with my back rigid and cleared my throat.
Her tone was hard, "Spike."
I didn't say anything back because I was afraid of what would come out of my mouth. Listening to her footsteps approaching me, I bowed my head. Thankfully, she couldn't see the tears rolling down my face.
"Do you want to know why I did this?" She was near me now.
"No." My voice cracked, betraying my sorrow.
"Because, how could I possibly be with the man...vampire...creature who couldn't even protect my sister?"
"W-what? What happened to Dawn?"
Her emerald eyes were full of a hate that she had not borne for me in three years. "You damned well know that she's dead. And it's all your fault. You didn't protect her when I asked you to. My god, Spike, where is your brain? How could you forget that the vampires got Dawn and that you let them?"
"B-but, I don't remember." I was desperate to understand. Dawn was dead? I couldn't even begin to fathom her death.
"How convenient....you lost your memory. Well, I don't buy it. I haven't trusted you since Dawn died, and I'm kind of glad you found Carver and I together. Maybe now you'll finally understand that we're really through this time."
Then, I melted to the floor with the certain feeling that this wasn't real. Burying my head in my hands and pretending to sob, I hardly heard Buffy and Carver leave the dance studio.
When I was certain they were gone several minutes later, I was on my feet. "Okay, Sayre, I got the drill down now. That one almost got to me. You're getting a little better at this. So, come on out and bring me the next wave of mind games."
Sayre's words sang only in my head. "Oh, no, we're done with these games. I didn't expect or want you to believe that this was real. It still affected you and that's what counts. Now, we await round two."
Round two? That sounded depressingly familiar.
the end of chapter 8
**Note: Sayre means "princess." Carver means "woodcarver."**