Part 10
If Phyre and her stupid cronies had finally decided to give Sunnydale a try Spike was pretty sure it spelled DISASTER with capital letters. The bloody bitch still had the nerve to say he was *beneath* *her*.
Angrily he gunned the engine to the motorcycle he had stolen. The sun had set and he was tired of being cooped up in his crypt during the day. He didn't give a damn about speeding or who he knocked over.
^Never should have sired that bitch^ he thought. One screw up that couldn't be undone.
If Phyre was here then she would have brought Gabriel and Elias with her. It didn't take much to find them. They had a taste for old houses, the type of deserted, ugly building that looked like it belonged on in a black and white horror movie.
An as a town with it's own Hellmouth below it, of course Sunnydale had a haunted house. Large leafless trees lined the dirt track leading to the house, bare branches reaching up to the sky like crooked skeletons reaching out from the grave.
There were no cars out front, and Spike knew for a fact none of them were powerful enough to have mastered teleporting to get around.
He front door was hanging off its hinges even before Spike could kick it down. A feeling in the air was sending shivers even down *his* spine. He stood in the dark hallway, listening.
No witty comments, no dry sarcasm seemed to want to come. There were a million things, insults mostly, that he wanted to scream at Phyre and the others, how ironic that when faced with them he was too pissed off to even think of one.
In the silence a sound came, the desperate sobs of someone struggling for breath. Following the sound, Spike didn't see Dawn until he almost tripped over her. She was lying on the floor of the hall, not moving.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
Dawn didn't answer, didn't move. Spike nudged her with the heel of his booted foot. Strands of the girl's long brown hair fell away from her neck, revealing the large bloody vampire bite.
"Shit," he muttered, dropping to his knees beside her, taking her in his arms. "Dawn!" He shook her. "Come on, don't die on me you bitch." He shook her again.
Dawn's eyelids fluttered. "How'd I get here?" she muttered.
Her heart beat was faint, she wouldn't stay alive long enough for him to get her to the hospital, not on a motorcycle. "Listen up, kid - "
"Not a kid," she muttered, anger flaring in her eyes, "eighteen today."
"I you don't shut up you'll be dead today," Spike snapped, and began unbuttoning the cuff of his black shirt. Finding a piece of broken glass on the floor, he made a small cut. Before the wound could heal he pressed the bleeding wrist to Dawn's mouth.
He didn't know if this would work, or what would happen afterwards. All he knew was he wasn't going to let Dawn die. He had lost one Summers sister, he wasn't going to loose them both.
* * *
If Phyre and her stupid cronies had finally decided to give Sunnydale a try Spike was pretty sure it spelled DISASTER with capital letters. The bloody bitch still had the nerve to say he was *beneath* *her*.
Angrily he gunned the engine to the motorcycle he had stolen. The sun had set and he was tired of being cooped up in his crypt during the day. He didn't give a damn about speeding or who he knocked over.
^Never should have sired that bitch^ he thought. One screw up that couldn't be undone.
If Phyre was here then she would have brought Gabriel and Elias with her. It didn't take much to find them. They had a taste for old houses, the type of deserted, ugly building that looked like it belonged on in a black and white horror movie.
An as a town with it's own Hellmouth below it, of course Sunnydale had a haunted house. Large leafless trees lined the dirt track leading to the house, bare branches reaching up to the sky like crooked skeletons reaching out from the grave.
There were no cars out front, and Spike knew for a fact none of them were powerful enough to have mastered teleporting to get around.
He front door was hanging off its hinges even before Spike could kick it down. A feeling in the air was sending shivers even down *his* spine. He stood in the dark hallway, listening.
No witty comments, no dry sarcasm seemed to want to come. There were a million things, insults mostly, that he wanted to scream at Phyre and the others, how ironic that when faced with them he was too pissed off to even think of one.
In the silence a sound came, the desperate sobs of someone struggling for breath. Following the sound, Spike didn't see Dawn until he almost tripped over her. She was lying on the floor of the hall, not moving.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
Dawn didn't answer, didn't move. Spike nudged her with the heel of his booted foot. Strands of the girl's long brown hair fell away from her neck, revealing the large bloody vampire bite.
"Shit," he muttered, dropping to his knees beside her, taking her in his arms. "Dawn!" He shook her. "Come on, don't die on me you bitch." He shook her again.
Dawn's eyelids fluttered. "How'd I get here?" she muttered.
Her heart beat was faint, she wouldn't stay alive long enough for him to get her to the hospital, not on a motorcycle. "Listen up, kid - "
"Not a kid," she muttered, anger flaring in her eyes, "eighteen today."
"I you don't shut up you'll be dead today," Spike snapped, and began unbuttoning the cuff of his black shirt. Finding a piece of broken glass on the floor, he made a small cut. Before the wound could heal he pressed the bleeding wrist to Dawn's mouth.
He didn't know if this would work, or what would happen afterwards. All he knew was he wasn't going to let Dawn die. He had lost one Summers sister, he wasn't going to loose them both.
* * *