Chapter 5 - The Morning After the Night Before
It took Spike several minutes of fumbling around in the clothes he had shed the night before, before he found his phone. It had been ringing constantly during that time, and he was surprised whoever was calling hadn't given up. When he finally found it, he heard Buffy's voice, tense with anger.
"Spike, is that you?"
When he grunted an affirmative, she replied. "How long does it take you to pick up your phone? I was worried. Thought something'd happened to you."
"Sorry, Love, s'just, I had to find the bloody thing first. We were kinda late last night, and I left it in my pocket, then couldn't find my jacket. So, how's Jenny?"
"Bearing up. She's waiting to hear from her solicitor. She wants to come to London. That's where the solicitor's based, and she thinks it'd be easier to deal with him in person. Lizzie's on half term from the end of the week, anyway. How's that sound?"
"Great." Spike's voice showed his relief. "I think it'd be better for us to be together if possible. I don't like the way we're split up. That's what the Council wants."
"Good. So, how's Alasdair?"
"Still sleeping, I hope. Stupid git launched a one man raid on the Council offices last night."
"He what?"
"You heard. I'll tell you the story when you get here."
"So, he went out and came back by himself?"
"Not exactly, Pet. I had to go and get him."
The silence on the other end was thick enough to cut with a knife. Spike held the phone further away from his ear in advance of what he knew was coming.
"And that's your definition of being careful? Going to the Council of Watchers? How stupid could you get? I'm just amazed you got out at all. There must be something in that building to keep it safe from vampires. I've got to go now, 'cos Jenny wants to talk to me, but you'd better believe we're going to have a serious talk about this when I get back."
She hung up after that, and Spike was surprised that the sound made him jump a little. He and Buffy had had arguments over the years, but they hadn't been over anything major. He hadn't ever heard her so upset as she was now. He cringed when he thought about the continuation of their chat. If she decided to get physical with him, he knew he didn't really stand a chance. Her combined vampire and Slayer strength were more than a match for his own despite his greater experience. Even more worrying was the prospect of a lack of other physical activities. On balance, he decided he would prefer it if she just hit him a few times.
Putting Buffy out of his mind for the moment, Spike pulled on his jeans then went to look for Alasdair. He was lying as he had left him, still sound asleep. Spike headed for the kitchen and put on some coffee. He normally preferred tea in the morning, but judged that Alasdair might still need the caffeine. He put on some toast too, judging that Alasdair might not fancy anything more after polishing off a significant proportion of a bottle of whisky in the early hours.
Emily's first thought when she opened her eyes was that it was dark. Not so dark that she couldn't see, but darker than she was used to. She was lying on a hard, narrow bed. When she tried to get up, it became obvious that she was chained to it. With a good deal of shuffling, she managed to pull herself to a sitting position, and looked around. She was in a cell of some kind, surrounded by bars. There was nothing to see beyond the bars, just an empty corridor. She thought back to the night before, trying to work out what had happened. She remembered taking some blood from the microwave, and then, nothing.
He stomach growled at that moment, reminding her that she had been hungry then, and still hadn't eaten. She heard a click from somewhere overhead and looked up to see a camera pointed in her direction. "Well, at least they know I'm awake," she thought.
She sat for some time before anyone came. She didn't recognise the woman. She was in her thirties, and was dressed in a skirt and blouse under a white coat. As she approached the cell, lights came on, and the woman started to talk into a miniature recorder.
"The subject came round at ten forty-two this morning. She sat up on her bed and looked around. She is in human face, and appears non-threatening. Of course, that is how vampires lure their prey, so I am not fooled. I intend to carry out the tests in section one of the research plan, and am waiting for security back up before I enter the cell."
As if they heard her words, two burly men appeared at that moment. Both were armed with crosses, and they opened the cell door. They stood one each side of the door, and the woman walked between them. Emily saw her chance to ask what was going on, and did so.
"It is not your place to question me."
"Why am I here? What have I done to deserve being kidnapped and kept prisoner?"
"You are a thing of evil. You have no rights, and the only reason you were not staked on sight is the fact that we wish to study you. There has been a lot of speculation about you, and my job is to refute it. I believe you are a vampire like all others, and I intend to prove it."
Emily's stomach growled rather obviously at that point. The woman noticed, and smiled unpleasantly, lifting her recorder back towards her mouth.
"It appears the subject is hungry. As is normal practice, she will not be fed unless it becomes necessary to continue the tests."
She nodded to the security guards, and they moved to flank her as she approached. She held out a cross, and advanced towards Emily. Instinctively, Emily flinched away from the cross, but the researcher ignored that. She thrust the cross into Emily's face. Emily expected pain. She expected the smell of burning flesh, but there was neither.
The woman pulled back, looking puzzled. "I touched the subject in the face with a standard type 3 wooden cross. There was no injury."
She pulled a bottle from the pocket of her lab coat. It contained a clear liquid which Emily assumed was holy water. Carefully, the stopper was removed, and the bottle was upturned over Emily's bare arm. The water ran down her arm, but caused no pain.
"Holy water applied to the bare skin of the subject's arm also had no effect."
She withdrew, considering Emily.
"Mrs. Borkett, how did she do that?" One of the guards was asking.
"I don't know," the researcher replied. She turned towards Emily. "What are you doing? Have you used some charm or spell to protect yourself from holy objects? The traitor-witch, did she do something to you?"
"I'm as surprised as you are," Emily replied, trying not to let the fear she was feeling show. "I've avoided crosses and holy water since I was changed. It never occurred to me that I'd be immune. Now, will you let me go? My friends won't stand for me being kept like this."
"Your friends have other things to worry about. The traitors have been taken out of the game, all except one of them. He will soon be disposed of. We expect him to try to rescue you, and when he does, his treachery will be proved. Did you know that the Council of Watchers has the right of summary execution under English Law? Few people do. But for humans who betray their kind to creatures from Hell such as you, it is the prescribed punishment. So, when he comes, he will be signing his own death warrant."
Emily gasped at the words. She knew Alasdair would try to save her. But what about Buffy and Spike?
"I see the ideas going through your mind. You are thinking that you count other vampires among your friends. No matter. They cannot enter this building. Any such creature who breaches the perimeter of the building is instantly burned to death. It's an ancient magic which has protected the Council since the start of recorded history. Your fate is sealed. You will give us your secrets, we will know everything there is to know about you, and then the protection which keeps the security spell from affecting you will be removed, and you will join your 'friends' in a fiery end."
Mrs. Borkett then ordered the guards to prepare the subject and left the cell. Emily found herself with a stake pressed into her flesh over her heart as she was unchained from the wall and pulled out of the cell.
"Remember the security spell," one of the guards reminded her. "If you manage to get away, we'll remove your protection immediately, and you'll get nicely barbecued."
They moved her to a room a short distance from the cell. It looked more like an operating theatre than anything else, with bright lights, polished stainless steel surfaces and a table in the middle. Emily was unceremoniously strapped to the table, and the two guards retreated a short distance away. Mrs. Borkett returned a few moments later, followed by someone Emily recognised. It was Michael.
Despite what everyone had told her about him, and her own experience of being abandoned by him, Emily initially felt hope.
"Michael, get them to let me loose. I won't hurt anyone. I just want to go home."
Michael's face became a mask of hatred.
"How dare you speak to me? You are an evil thing. You deserve no consideration. Just because you walk around in the body of a Slayer doesn't mean you have any rights at all. You are a vampire, a creature of hell. You deserve only the death that was denied you the first time."
Emily felt tears form in her eyes at his words. This was the man she had once trusted. When her family let her down, he was her anchor. That he could discount her so completely was still a shock despite his earlier actions. She struggled to keep the tears from falling.
"So, the cross and the holy water had no effect?" Michael's attention was centred on Mrs. Borkett.
"That's right, Sir," she replied. "Neither had any effect."
"Hmm, I'd like to see that, Jeanette. Could you repeat those tests for me, please? There's a control subject in the next room, why don't we wheel him in and we can do the test again?"
A nod to the security guards had them scurrying to wheel in another table like the one Emily was strapped to. On it was a vampire. He was male and looked to be in his twenties. Emily didn't recognise him, but she instinctively felt sorry for him. He looked as if he hadn't fed for some time. He wasn't feeling the pain of starvation yet, but she suspected he wasn't far away. His demon face was to the fore, and he seemed to be naked. Every part of his body she could see was covered in cuts or burns caused by crosses or holy water.
The tests were repeated, but this time Emily had to hear the screams of the other vampire as his skin burned under the cross and where the holy water was dripped onto his body. Again, the holy objects had no effect on her.
"Interesting," Barrat murmured. "How do you think she's done that? Magic? Could the witch have done such a thing?"
"I don't know, Sir. She's the most talented and knowledgeable witch we have. I doubt any of the others would be able to answer that question."
"Very well, let's try the next test, shall we? What is it? Oh, yes, sunlight."
Emily knew this was one test she couldn't get through without pain. She had caught an arm in stray sunlight a time or two, and she knew the sickening stench of burning flesh and remembered the pain too well.
There were windows at high level around the room. All had rigid covers, and first the other vampire's trolley was wheeled over to lie under one of them. There was a switch on the wall, and when it was depressed, one of these shutters opened, allowing a stream of natural light to enter. The scream from the vampire was horrible to hear. The light hit him on the chest, on a part that was already horribly burned from similar treatment. After a designated time, the shutter closed automatically, and the trolley was pushed away. The resulting wound was prodded and measured, although how they could tell what had been caused by the most recent exposure, Emily had no idea.
Her trolley was placed on the same spot. Mrs. Borkett moved over to her and unceremoniously opened the front of Emily's blouse. When she saw the bra underneath, she went to a drawer and removed a pair of scissors. She used these to remove the offending article of clothing.
Emily knew the exposure to sunlight was going to be painful, but the only thing she was aware of was that she was now half naked in the company of three strange men. Had she been able to blush, her cheeks would have been flaming, especially when she heard some whispered comments between the two guards. Mrs. Borkett looked disapprovingly at them and they went quiet. Michael's reaction was different. He was looking at Emily very carefully, making sure she was aware of his perusal. She felt soiled by his interest, and worse when he spoke to his colleague.
"Jeanette, can you tell me why she has remained dressed? How can you perform the full range of tests on her like that?"
"You're right, sir, but I intend to remove clothing as necessary. I find it easier to maintain a scientific atmosphere that way." As she spoke, she clearly indicated the reaction of the two guards.
"I see," he answered. "I'm not sure I approve. You're treating her as if she deserved some sort of respect. She's a thing, a test subject, nothing more. If others present are perverse enough to take pleasure in her being naked, that is really their problem. Personally, I cannot imagine anything less sexually alluring than an animated corpse."
As he spoke, Michael picked up the scissors from where Jeanette had left them. He proceeded to cut away Emily's remaining clothing, but his earlier words were made to sound dubious by the way he allowed his hands to touch her body as he did so.
When he had finished, Michael flipped the switch on the wall, and the sunlight streamed in. Emily knew immediately that her skin was smoking. She could smell it, and the pain was severe. She was determined to remain still, and not give Michael the satisfaction of knowing how painful it was.
"You know," he said as he carried out a range of measurements on the scorched flesh of her chest. "I think maybe I'd better complete the tests myself. I'm concerned at your attitude. You have other work, I take it?"
"Yes Sir, but I had been led to understand that the next project of significant importance would be mine."
"And I've decided you are not up to the rigours of this particular project. Go, and take your goons with you."
The other three left, and Michael approached Emily with a leer. "Now it's just us, slut. I've got a whole raft of tests to do, and I can guarantee you aren't going to like any of them. What's the next one, oh yes, healing rate from cuts of various depths. That's always a fun one. To think, I once considered changing our relationship. I mean, I thought it would be good to have a Slayer in my bed, once you were old enough, of course. You know, it used to be considered a perk of being a Watcher. Society wouldn't approve of Slayer and Watcher living in close proximity without a marriage, and that was considered the obvious course of action. Not that I would have considered marrying you, but times have changed. Now I see how you turned out, I'm almost glad you didn't last that long. Of course, that caused me all sorts of problems, so I'm happy to have this opportunity to repay you for having the temerity to get yourself killed on my watch."
Emily listened to Michael, trying to reconcile her memories of her Watcher with the man in front of her. Although it was the same face, and the same voice, she could see nothing familiar. Hatred and bitterness had twisted both, and she felt a combination of fear and pity. Fear primarily for Alasdair, Buffy and Spike, and pity because he was a shell of the man he had once been. He had never been brave, or daring, but he had at least been honest. She found she couldn't trust herself to answer him.
"Good," he said softly, "you've got nothing to say. I really didn't want to hear your voice. I had enough of that when you were alive. Now, where did she leave the standard knife set?"
It was late before Alasdair woke to a blinding headache and the smell of coffee. Spike didn't seem to be talking to him, and on balance, that seemed to be a good thing. He poured some coffee, and tried to nibble a slice of dry toast, but gave it up as a bad job. He was sore from spending the night on the sofa, and considered going to bed, wondering why Spike hadn't put him there when he passed out. As if he knew what was on his mind, Spike answered the unspoken question.
"Didn't put you to bed. Thought the smell of her there might waken you."
He looked at his vampire friend. Spike knew exactly how he was feeling. He understood, and it was a relief to know that he didn't have to explain.
"Suggest you go and get cleaned up, though. Oh, and maybe take some paracetamol. Buffy's coming back with Jenny and the kids. It's going to get a lot noisier here before long. Once we're all together, we can talk about what we can do."