Chapter Ten:

The house was dark. Buffy's Camaro still sat in the parking lot of the restaurant which had been closed for business since he'd sent his little gift. He drove the streets, checking the grocery store and anywhere else that she could have been.

They had her stashed away from him. They didn't believe he would kill Tara to get her. He would, if he had to. But for some reason, killing her wasn't something he wanted to do anymore.

It was only ten PM but the streets were strangely empty. The mayor had put out a curfew until the Red Ribbon Rapist was killed.

The press had named him after Maggie Walsh's death, seeing the red ribbon on her hair and gaining the knowledge of the others, through secret sources, of course. He had laughed when he sent that letter in, knowing that the police were trying to keep some things out of the press. Why shouldn't he talk to the press? The Zodiac Killer had, so had BTK and Son of Sam.

He slowed at an intersection, stopping as the light turned red. Crossing in front of him, like a temptation to his soul, was a young woman, alone, her blonde hair bouncing around her shoulders. Her eyes turned and looked into his car, staring at him as she walked between the white lines of the cross walk and she smiled, a saucy mix of youthful exuberance and flirtation. And he could see her now, tied to his chair, that smile gone, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her hair would feel like satin, smooth under his brush, the red ribbon such a pretty decoration in it. Her skin would be taut, tawny, with brown nipples capping those perky tits that barely bounced with every step she took. Her lips would be soft, hot around his cock even as she gagged and moaned, crying and screaming around his hard shaft.

His cock grew hard, his pants too tight and he squirmed for a moment, reaching between his legs to shift things to make more room. She would make an interesting addition to his collection.

She continued across, reaching the curb with her long legged gait. He couldn't help but stroke himself as he watched her walk away, her ass moving under her short, bouncy skirt, her long legs eating up the ground easily. He'd never had two before. The idea was intriguing. One watching while the other performed tricks to please him, maybe even letting Tara have some fun with this little one since he knew she liked other girls so much.

Flipping on his turn signal, he followed her, watching as she crossed another block to a less populated part of the city, where the street lights didn't reach too far into the shadows. It was a perfect area for predators, a perfect area for him. He pulled his car to the side, parking in a small alley. Grabbing a stone, he knocked out the streetlight near the alley, leaving the area blanketed in darkness. And then he followed her, his legs quickly catching up the distance between them, the soft soles on his shoes camouflaging the sound of his footsteps. She didn't hear him, she didn't see him. She was easy prey.

Five steps away from her, he took another look around, his grin breaking across his face, the smile like that of a jackal that scents a carcass left from some other predator. No cars, no people, a sweet little blonde woman walking late at night, not a care in the world.

Four steps and he pulled out his gloves, slipping his hands into the warmth of black leather, smooth, fine grained. They left no marks upon either people or items. It was as if he'd never touched them when he wore these gloves. He was a ghost, a predator without peers, slipping in and never leaving a clue.

Three steps and he pulled his jacket collar up around his ears, hunching his shoulders so that his neck disappeared. With his head tipped down, his face remained in the shadows. All she would see would be a vague outline of a shape. She would have nothing concrete to tell anyone if she escaped from his clutches. Of course, she wouldn't escape. He hadn't lost one yet, even with dear Buffy it was only a matter of time.

Two steps and he took a deep calming breath, his heart pounding, his adrenaline spiking, leaving him feeling buzzed, as if he were invincible. He felt all powerful, unstoppable. He would add this one to his collection. He should have followed her to where she was going, done his homework and then waited to find her schedule. He shouldn't go after any of them like this, on a whim as he was. It was dangerous and stupid. But his successes recently had left him feeling a little cocky, and this little girl was prime pickings.

She hadn't heard him, still walking with that easy gaited stride, her legs bare in the cool air, tennis shoes on her feet. Her hair danced around her, the dim light of the widely spaced street lights catching and drawing out touches of gold that caught his eyes. Her ass was a sweet offering, rounded, taut, her buttocks moving seductively under that short skirt.

One step behind her, his hand reached out, slapping over her mouth, his other arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her back until that sweet firm ass that he'd been drooling over was pressed up against his cock. She struggled, they always struggled, until he held his hand over her mouth and nose, cutting off her oxygen. Her hands beat at his arms, her fingers pulled frantically at his hands, digging into the leather covering them but unable to gain enough purchase to yank him away and catch the desperately needed air. It was over in seconds, a tricky maneuver to know when to let up, but he'd done it before, he knew what he was doing. Confidence gave him an added sense of rightness this night, thoughts of the fun awaiting him with his two pretty captives making him just a trifle sloppy.

He didn't see her purse as it tumbled into the bushes next to the sidewalk, or feel the button that she yanked off the cuff of his jacket that fell beside it. When she slumped against him, he hefted her in his arms, hurrying now, for it was imperative that they reach his car unseen. He missed the boy sitting in his window, watching outside for his father to come home. He missed seeing him, the curiosity on his face as he gazed from his dark room, his hands up to the window to give him an easier view.

Opening his trunk, he dumped her inside, reaching for his kit and pulling out his roll of duct tape. He tore off enough to hold her prisoner, wrapping her slender ankles and wrists, slipping a piece over her mouth before checking her breathing. His hand slipped over her face, taking a moment to savor his victory, pulling open her jacket and cupping her breasts. Next he flipped her over, letting her skirt slide up, stroking his hands over the flesh left bare by the tiny red thong she wore. He squeezed hard, watching as his fingers dug into her flesh, wishing he could feel it through the leather that he wore. When he released it, the marks turned red and grew welted, making him smile.

She was tender and young, ripe for him to take and play with. Oh yes, Tara would enjoy this one.

Buffy sighed and opened her eyes, seeing the dim light of dawn filter through the small gap in the window blinds. Her hand reached out, sliding along the soft cotton of the sheet until she felt him, still next to her, his breathing still slow and deep. She rolled on the bed, scooting over, careful not to wake him. In the dimness, his eyes were shadowed still. She knew he had problems sleeping and that he was totally immersed in this case, the only case that the captain had given him now that Tara had been taken.

He looked so tired, his face stubbled with dark whiskers, his lips barely parted in his sleep. His face was turned towards her, though he slept on his back, the covers kicked off so that most of one hip and leg was visible. His body was hard, not the donut eating, loose bellied cop of some of the television shows she'd seen. He took care of himself, she'd see the heavy bag in the guest room and the bicycle that he'd hung up in his living room. It was a sexy body, leanly muscled, long legs.

Quietly, she reached her hand out, brushing against his stomach and that seductive little trail, reaching out for the sheet that was barely covering the rest of him and lifting it with two fingers.

"Are you planning on just looking or were you thinking of buying also?" His voice was husky with sleep, his eyes, when he finally opened them, were sleepy sexy, half open.

"Hmm, I haven't decided yet. I thought I might sample the merchandise before I decided." She smiled as she leaned over, taking his semi hard cock in her mouth and suckling upon it.

"Oh, baby, if you want to sample the merchandise every morning, I'm more than okay with that," he groaned, his hands going into her hair. Her mouth was hot, wet suction, her tongue a talented tease around his erect shaft. His hips jerked, wanting to thrust inside of her, to hold her still and fuck her mouth for about the next week. "If you want to get something out of this, baby, you'd better stop now. Otherwise I'm not going to be held responsible for my actions," he hissed, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck and dragging her up his body. Her breasts pressed into his chest, her hands slid down his sides, finding the mattress and lifting her body up to straddle him even as his mouth found hers.

Angel ravaged her mouth, his breathing harsh. Even though he'd thought he'd had his fill of her the night before, taking her twice before curling up with her to sleep, he felt as if he'd explode as soon as his cock felt her hot wet walls around it. His hand slipped between her legs, his fingers exploring anxiously, finding the hard knot of her clit and torturing it with circling caresses that had her hunching down on him. He pushed his fingers inside of her, feeling her walls, coated with the moisture of her desire clamp down on them, her hips jerking, beyond thought of rhythm or grace.

She groaned, filling his mouth with the sound of her desire, her tongue battling his. She yanked her mouth away, crying out as he pressed deeper, his fingers curving inside of her, finding every nuance of erotic sensation he could and plying it. He felt her come, her juices coating his hand, her body tight. He pulled his hand away, hearing her groan in frustration, only to groan himself as he pushed his cock inside of her.

When he was fully seated inside of her, he pressed his hand to her lower back, rolling with one swift move until he was lying on top between her slim thighs. He didn't give her a chance to breathe jack hammering into her, feeling her clamp around him, her body arched anxiously. Sensation assaulted him, battered him as he grabbed her hips, driving into her and hearing her cry out again, her body convulsing under his. Still he gave her no rest, the tension of his desire reaching a torrid peak, his balls aching to come.

The sound of his cell phone barely penetrated the haze of desire around them. Angel cursed, his hand coming down on the bed next to them as he reached for it. Flipping it open, he growled as he saw the caller id. "McKenna and this had better be good."

Buffy barely stifled the groan that struggled to surface as he suddenly lifted himself off of her, going to sit on the side of the bed, his conversation growing softer as if he tried not to let her hear him. She scooted closer, just in time to hear part of the conversation before he hung up the phone.

"How much did he see?" at first.

"Yeah, and you're sure it's our guy?" came next.

"Okay, yeah, I'll be in. Give me thirty." Angel flipped closed the phone, dropping it on the bed beside him and running his hands through his hair with a sigh.

"What is it? Did they find Tara? She's not..." Buffy couldn't finish the question.

"No, no honey, they didn't find her. He took another girl last night, right off the street." He turned, his eyes softening as he stared at her passion flushed face.

"But he doesn't just take girls off the street," she said, her eyes clouding. "He's too methodical to take risks like that. Are you sure it's him?"

"I asked the same thing. The girl is our clue. She's blonde, twenty four years old and was out walking alone last night." He scrubbed his hands over his face before turning to lean over her, kissing her gently. "I've got to go in. I can have someone come out here and stay with you until later if you want to go back to sleep?"

"Hell no," she said, laughing as she got out of the bed on her side. "I'll race you for the shower. Loser has to scrub the winner's back." She made it two steps before he picked her up from behind, carrying her into the shower. She laughed up at him. "I won," she grinned.

"Huh? How do you figure that? I was carrying you."

"Yeah, in front of you," she smirked, laughing when he dumped her in the shower. Her laughter turned to a squeal when he reached in and turned on the shower all the way over to cold. "Dammit Angel, that's cold!"

"Oh, God, Buffy, I'm just so sorry," he blinked at her innocently, his hand rubbing across her chest. "I must have been blinded by your beauty and grabbed the wrong handle."

"Ass," she said, glaring at him as she set the temperature of the water for steamy, turning to face him as he got into the shower.

He sighed dramatically. "You know darling, if you keep using such sweet pet names for me, people are going to start thinking we're in love." He pushed her backwards gently, until she was under the water, her hair dripping into her face.

Water splashed on Tara's face, waking her from much needed sleep. She'd hurt so badly last night, her mouth, her breasts where he'd dug his hands into her. But the worst of the pain had been between her thighs. She'd used the sink in the plastic cube that had become her home to try to clean herself up some, worried about infections. If she became sick, she'd have no chance of surviving this.

Sputtering, she opened her eyes, using her fingers to wipe water from them.

"Wakey, wakey. Rise and shine, Tara. I've brought you a gift."

"What time is it?" she asked quietly, never knowing what she might say that might cause him to lose control.

"It's about four AM. I have to leave for work in an hour but I wanted to give you a chance to examine our new toy." He backed up to the opening in the cube and motioned her up. "Come on, you'll enjoy this surprise."

Tara rose, barely stifling the moan of pain as muscles resisted. Walking was painful, the ache throbbing in her groin turning to a scream of pain. She managed though, walking slowly towards him, seeing the knife once more in his hands.

He used it to motion her on, stepping behind her and pulling her back into his body. His free hand roamed over her breasts, his fingers grabbing onto one nipple and rolling it back and forth. She tried to hide the pain he caused her, she didn't want to give her the satisfaction of hearing her cry out, but he was relentless, his fingers moving from her nipple, down the ladder of her ribs and over her smooth stomach, pushing in between her thighs. He rubbed her soft pink flesh mercilessly, until the pain became too much and she sobbed, tears streaming down her face. "What's the matter, Tara? I thought you liked my touch."

"I-I do. I'm just re-really sore d-down there."

"D-down where?" he asked her mockingly.

"W-where your fin-fingers are," she whimpered. "I hurt really badly."

"Oh, Tara, you disappoint me. Just when I bring you a toy that you'll really like, you wimp out on me." He brought the knife around, holding it to her throat. "Perhaps I was wrong about you, perhaps you aren't the right one for me to keep."

"No!" she cried out quickly. "I'll be fine, I'm just still dry, that's all." Tara took a deep breath, relaxing against him with visible effort. Her body shivered, missing the warmth of the blanket he let her use the night before.

"Are you sure? If you don't want to be here, I can let you go." He smiled, enjoying his play. He knew she knew the only way he'd let her go would be for her to be dead.

"No, I don't want to leave," she said quickly, bowing her head, her hair hanging limply into her eyes.

"Good girl," he said, giving her pussy one more quick rub before he shoved her forward. "Go to your chair."

She went, hurrying in front of him, afraid of what he would do if he grabbed her again. Walking around the high back of the chair, she stopped in shock at the sight that met her eyes, her hand going to her lips to stifle the cry of dismay. There was another girl. Blonde, different from hers. He had complained about her shade. Tara had seen the photos, this girl seemed to fit in better. She was also more of his body type too, thin, her green eyes open, begging. She was clean shaven, her pink slit easily seen as she had been tied up with her ankles spread wide, There was a piece of tape across her lips. Her hair was brushed and was held back by the same red ribbon he'd put in her hair. The same red ribbon that had been found in Maggie's hair.

"Pretty, isn't she?" he asked her, pushing Tara to her knees in front of the young girl. "I saw her walking the streets last night. I though maybe you'd like a toy of your own since, well, since that whore you were in bed with is dead."

Tara's head shot up, her eyes sending a blistering stare of hatred that she couldn't control as she heard what he said about Willow. Her gaze dropped as fast as it rose, her eyes closing as she tried to control her emotions, hearing him laugh.

"Touch her," he said quietly.

"W-whhat?" Tara asked, her head jerking back up at him as if she wasn't sure she'd heard him right.

"Touch her," he repeated. "I want to watch you get her off. I don't care how, you can do her with your mouth or your hand, or both. I don't give a fuck. Just make sure you put on a good show for me, else I might find myself bored and decide to fuck your ass today."

Tara stared up in the girl's green eyes, seeing her fear and her revulsion. "It's okay, you'll be all right."

"I didn't say to baby the bitch, I said to fuck her. Now do as you're told, Tara or she'll get to watch you get the ass fucking of your life."

Tara closed her eyes again to hide the loathing she felt for him, then leaned forward, her mouth lightly touched the girl's cheek. "Close your eyes," she whispered. "Think of me as your boyfriend and that we're playing some kinky kind of game." Her mouth slid down her throat, her teeth nibbling delicately against the girl's clammy skin. Tara tickled her throat with her tongue, sliding it over her collarbone and then down to one of those small curves of flesh, licking around her big hard nipple before sucking it into her mouth.

"Nice," her captor said. Tara heard the ripping sound of his zipper and knew the man had pulled out his cock. She kept up what she was doing, wondering when she would feel that horrid piece of flesh push into her again, knowing she wouldn't be able to hide the scream this time.

She moved to the other breast, her hands coming down to rest against the bound girl's thighs, her thumbs sliding up to trace the small creases where her legs met her body, feeling the girl wriggle under her hands, hearing the small moan she gave.

"You're doing really well, Tara. Make her come and I'll let you decide which one of you I fuck."

Tara tried to ignore him, instead concentrating on the taste of the girl's flesh. It was salty, with an underlying sweetness to it that made it a treat to savor.

"Lower, gorgeous. Lick her belly and reach up and play with one of these hard nipples."

Tara felt her head pushed down, her hand lifting to obey him, encountering his hand on the nipple she had chosen. She changed hands, reaching for the other nipple and twisting it gently, pinching and rolling the pebbled bud.

"Lower, Tara. I shaved her cunt just for you. I wanted her to be nice and pretty for you to lick."

Tara's tongue found the top of the clean shaven slit, sliding down into the wet heat she found there. The girl was aroused, her clit peeping from beneath its protective hood, begging to be nibbled and licked. She heeded its plea, drawing the tender morsel between her lips, finding that she was actually enjoying bringing this poor girl some pleasure during the middle of this terror.

Her hips shook as she explored the sweet wet folds of her cunt, her eyes closed tightly, the stimulation she was receiving almost too much to bear after waking up in this hell. She felt Tara touch her, felt her fingers in places that very few had ever touched her, and while she was scared, she was totally turned on also.

It didn't take much, a few licks, a teasing bite or two and the girl was crying out into her gag, her body shaking as she flooded Tara's face with her juices, her face turning bright red with embarrassed pain as she came. She felt Tara's tongue licking at her convulsing opening before circling back up to her clit to lap some more, the stimulation almost painful to her sensitive flesh now.

"Oh, so well done, Tara. Did you realize that she's a virgin? I found out when I shaved her, but I left her intact. Would you like to pop this cute little girl's cherry?" He laughed when Tara looked back up at him, dragging her face from between the girl's thighs. "You can do it," he said, then stepped around the chair, dragging his hand over the immense erection he held, stroking it so that it pointed right into the girl's face. "Or I can do it with this. Which do you think she'd prefer?"

"I'll do it," Tara said quickly, hearing the girl's quick cry of fright.

"Stand up," he ordered her.

"I said I'd do it."

"Oh, I know, but if you do her, Tara, I'm going to do your ass. It's up to you to decide." He laughed cruelly, seeing Tara blanch. "So, which is it?" he asked, laughing again as that look of hatred came back to Tara's face.

The shower had been quick, dressing done on the run so that she was putting her shoes on in Angel's car. Breakfast had been nonexistent though he did run through a drive through fast food place to grab them each a cup of non sludge coffee and a breakfast sandwich. His was gone in three big bites, his coffee half drained by the time they reached the precinct.

She walked with him into the building, unable to do anything but hurry since he held her arm in his big hand, holding her coffee carefully so that she didn't spill the hot brew all over her hands. She'd never seen him this way. He was hyped, his juices flowing as he hurried so that he could question the witness to the kidnapping.

That was about all she'd gotten out of him. They had a witness, someone who had seen him besides her. Now maybe they could get a sketch. Get that out and someone would have to know him. You couldn't live in a town this size without someone knowing you.

"Okay, baby," he all but whispered to her when they were almost in the bull pen. "I've got to leave you here again. If you want to use my couch, make yourself at home."

Buffy nodded, pulling the paperback out of her purse and headed towards the desk watching as he went to his office, dropping off his briefcase before giving her a wink and heading out the door.