A/N: A big THANKS to everyone who reviewed!

Fire and Blood

By: human28

Chapter Three

The club was echoing with the sounds of raucous laughter and yells of criticisms. The smell of alcohol, smoke, sweat, and blood was fresh in the air. It was enough to drown a normal human being's system with its toxicity. The vampire barely noticed the unsanitary atmosphere, as he cut through the crowd. A number of obscenities followed his crossing.

Relief passed over his features as he finally made it towards the back room. A small, make-shift office was located there. It consisted of nothing more than a metal desk, several stools and a rusty refrigerator. Behind the desk sat a middle-aged woman with bleached blonde hair and ice-blue eyes. She regarded him with unabashed scrutiny.

But it wasn't the kind of look that he usually received from the female population. It was as if she was gauging his ability to fight. Spike hid his smirk.

"Name's Annie. What can I do for you, boy?" she asked in a raspy voice.

"I need cash." He replied, cracking his knuckles. "Cold hard cash."

"Then you fight." Annie stood up and gestured for him to follow her. He found himself, once again, submerged in the dirty ambiance that flooded all throughout the fight club.

"What'll be your name?" the woman asked arching a sharply-manicured eyebrow.

He smirked. "William the Bloody."

A bell clanged, signaling the end of the last fight. He quickly shed his leather duster and shirt, tossing it at a nearby table before psyching himself up. He cracked his neck, and rubbed his hands together. 5,000 bucks, here I come.

"Let's see what you've got boy." Annie pulled open the cage door and motioned for him to enter. He obliged without question, as she grabbed a microphone from her co-worker. "Our champion, undefeated with twenty-one wins, and no losses. Please welcome, Freddy Fists!"

The crowd that surrounded the steel cage burst into thunderous applause as a man with graying hair entered the ring. Cuts and bruises blanketed his body, but the man showed no indication of pain.

"And now! Our challenger. Standing at six foot tall, and a lean weight of a hundred and seventy-five pounds. Put your hands together for William the Bloody!"

Boos and shouts of condemnation erupted from their audience. Spike merely smirked. The referee blew his whistle and the fight began.

…

The fight ended in less than four minutes, granting Spike the title of champion, and five thousand dollars. He collected the money from Annie and made his way to the men's locker room where he cleaned himself up. He stared at himself on the grimy mirror, watching the droplets of cold water trickle down his face. There was a haunted expression on his face.

And he knew what had caused it.

He, one of the undead, had died. And that was to save the world. But apparently, the Powers that Be figured he'd be of more use here in the human world than in heaven…or hell, for that matter. He couldn't really remember his life up there, or down there. All he remembered was the passivity that had surrounded him. It was a haven that isolated him from all the chaos. A haven where he had been at peace.

So this is how it feels like. He thought with a bitter grin. To be pulled out of sanctuary. This was how Buffy had felt like. When Willow brought her back. Robbed of peace.

The thought of the Slayer, the woman whom he loved, the woman who had broken his heart for countless times…It burned him. It burned him to think that she could never love him in the way he loved her. And that was probably the main reason on why he spent two years wandering the globe…trying to stay away from her.

But he couldn't.

He loved her too damned much. And she deserved to know that he was alive, or rather, among the living once again. And that was why he was here, in Seattle. In fact, he had been here for several weeks now. He had watched her from afar, watched her fight from behind the shadows.

"Why you leaving so soon, boy?" a hoarse voice shook him out of his reverie. He spun around, hastily wiping his face on the sleeve of his shirt. It was Annie. "The crowd loves you out there. I'm predicting that my business will go up with you hanging around here."

Spike flashed her one of his most charming smiles. "Sorry Annie. But as much as I love kicking arse, I have bigger plans for my life. And this," he held up the wad of cash and grinned. "Is going to help me get started."

"Alright, boy." Annie nodded and gripped his shoulder for a few seconds. "If you ever change your mind. You know where to reach me." She went out the door, not bothering to wait for a reply. As he gazed at his haunted reflection, he made a silent promise to finally show himself to her, no matter how much it hurt. He turned around and prepared to leave.

He was more than a bit surprised to see two men dressed in crisp black business suits standing there, watching him warily.

"What do you blokes want?"

And his whole world went black.

…

When he woke up, he found himself locked inside a steel cage that hung suspended at about two stories high in the air. He appeared to be in some kind of abandoned warehouse. Spike flexed his muscles and pain shot throughout his body. Bloody hell, they electrocuted me. He thought with a grimace as he stood up. The men who had captured him were standing right below him, discussing in low tones.

"Hey! What the bloody hell is going on here?" Spike shouted out to them. He didn't even have time to blink, the next thing he knew, a door at the bottom of the cage opened, and he landed gracefully on his feet. The men circled around him, guns cocked and pointed at their prisoner. This made him smile inside, it was so pleasing to see the caution etched on each of their faces…to know how much they feared him.

A man stepped out from the shadows. He was in his mid-thirties, or perhaps, older. The look in his eyes told him that this man had seen numerous tragedies in his life. And judging by the designer suit he was wearing, along with the ugly expression on his face. This man was the leader.

"Who're you?" Spike asked, eyes narrowed.

"The name's White, and that's all you need to know." His steel gray eyes hardened imperceptibly. "And you are obviously not one of the transgenic freaks." He spat out the last part with disgust, as if he had eaten something rotten.

What the hell is a transgenic? Spike thought. He had never heard of the term before, but it was evident that they thought he was one. Thus, the whole incarceration thing. And it made him wonder what a transgenic was…to be mistaken for a creature like him.

"Which leads me to this question…are you another product of Manticore? Another one of the monsters that they created before the alleged transgenics?"

"I'm a vampire." Spike said, spitting out the truth with a slight frown. White imitated his expression, and his steel-gray eyes flashed sadistically. It was apparent that he didn't believe him. "You don't believe me?" Spike asked. "Check for a heartbeat, I don't have one, and I don't breathe. Plus, I feed on humans like you."

White didn't even flinch, instead, his already stoic face hardened further. "Oh I believe you, just don't expect me to run to mommy, screaming my head off. I've seen enough repulsive things in my life. And I suppose that you are another one I have to add in my list." Spike growled. "Kill him. He is of no use to me." White drawled with a dismissive wave.

That was when Spike realized that he was in a very ominous situation. "Wait!" This made White pause. "It's obvious that you're looking for these so-called transgenics. I can help you."

"Is that a fact?" White cocked an eyebrow.

Spike smirked. "Let's just say that I'm an expert when it comes to hunting down people."

"Hmm, good enough for me." He pulled out two photographs from his pocket. White tossed them to Spike along with a shock wand. The vampire caught them easily. He glanced at the photos. It was a picture of a guy and a girl. They were still young, around nineteen or twenty maybe.

"What's this?" Spike asked, gesturing at the photos.

"Those are X5-452, and X5-494." White informed him with a sardonic grin. "You are to bring them here, alive."

Capture two teenagers? Piece of cake. Spike thought, lazily twirling the shock wand in between his fingers.

White motioned at the man on his right. Spike was then roughly grabbed by the shoulders and a stab of pain shot through his neck. "What the bloody hell was that?" he yelped.

"Just a little something to make sure that you don't run off on me, as you were undoubtedly planning to do." White held up a tiny marble-like object. "Micro explosive." He dropped it onto the ground and planted a foot on it. It popped loudly. "Not much punch to it, really, but enough, considering it's lodged against your brain stem. If it goes off, you will never know what hit you."

Spike's eyes widened.

"Locate and incarcerate 452 and 494, and I'll disarm it."

"How long do I have?" The vampire asked.

"The explosive is timed to detonate in exactly twenty-four hours." White replied with a cynical smile.

Spike laughed in disbelief. "A day?"

"You come through, and I'll deactivate it. If you don't…" White made a popping noise. "You're head explodes." He grinned mockingly, and flung Spike a digital watch. "Tick, tick, vampire. Time's a wasting."

Spike shot him a nasty look before exiting the warehouse in a billow of black.

…

To be continued…

…

A/N: I know, I know, vampires don't have reflections, but I just got carried away with the story, so forgive me for that the teeny-weeny mistake. Review!

Sneak Peak:

"Oh no, Joshua!" She snatched the New World Weekly magazine from Alec's hand and gave the cover a good look. Yup, it was definitely their doggy-friend.