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Chapter 2


Spike made sure to stay nice and quiet, his senses reaching out for every bit of information he could grasp. He could hear the minions shuffle around with their tasks. From the sound of it, a few of them were chiseling into stone.

He could hear his poof of a grandsire talking with someone whose voice he didn’t recognize in the slightest.

“Not to mention…” The unknown voice continued to ramble. “You’re still in danger of being cursed. If the Slayer’s friends do have the curse the gypsies used on you, than it’s only a matter of time before they try again. I can make sure their attempts are not successful.”

Spike had managed to catch most of what they had been saying since he was carried into the room. He knew it would have done him no good to have everyone know that he was awake and aware. They certainly wouldn’t be so casual and open in their conversation if they did. But then again, this was Angelus he was thinking about. He had always been a smug bastard.

The worst part had been having to listen to Drusilla’s screams. He couldn’t stand for his Dark Princess to be in pain. He at least wanted to comfort her. It was a relief to know that he wouldn’t have shackles holding him down, otherwise he might have been forced to act too soon.

Of course, once the ceremonial dagger began carving into his flesh all his careful precautions went flying out the window.

“Ahhh! Bugger! Watch the knives!”

Luckily, he was able to bring his flailing limbs under control before anyone realized that one of his legs had moved. Angelus was holding his arms down against the stone slab while the demon above him carved a careful design deeply into his chest.

“Willy, my boy, glad you could join us.” Angelus gave him a slight smirk as he tightened his grip on Spike’s wrists. “Don’t mind Zeffy, here.” He nodded towards the demon, who in turn gave him a slight glare at the unappreciated nickname. “He’s got a thing with chains and bloodshed that even Darla would admire.”

Spike decided it was wise to pretend ignorance. “Where’s Dru?”

“Oh, our Dru, I do believe her visions overwhelmed her…” He turned to look at Drusilla. Spike followed his gaze to the opposite slab. His heart ached to see his Princess in such a way…her dress torn open, blood flowing from her chest, her bare breasts being oggled by every minion that passed. She also did seem to be out of it, her lulling to the side, her eyes closed while she mumbled incoherently.

“Touch her again…” Spike couldn’t help the loud rumbling growl that came with his words of warning.

“Spike, my boy, I plan to touch her quite a bit before this is over, before she’s dust…wouldn’t want to fondle dust, now would I?” He slapped Spike almost affectionately on the cheek, bringing another enraged growl from the younger vampire. “Don’t fret”, he told Spike. “You’ll be joining her soon enough. Well, in dust, not really in my bed.” He grinned.

Zefferus ignored the two as he continued his task. Once the mark was finished he placed the dagger down on the slab before reaching into the bowl of poison, then spreading a handful across Spike’s chest.

The scent of burning flesh filled the air and Spike cried out in pain, almost ignoring his need for secrecy. He struggled hard to keep his body under control, not wanting anyone to know how much he could use his limbs and his back just yet.

“Gee”, Angel said, looking down at his bloody and burnt wound. “That’s gonna scar.”

“And so it must before we begin the next stage of the ritual.” Zefferus informed him.

“You mean I have to wait to see him turn to dust?” Angelus tsked, a look of mock disappointment on his face. “Oh well…” He glared down at Spike, who had kept his venomous look of hatred directed at Angelus the entire time. “I suppose you can stay here, keep Dru company until I feel like having one last go with her. Calm her down a bit, and I’m sure she’ll coo you a bed time story.” He laughed and ruffled Spike’s gelled hair, sending it into disarray before motioning for Zefferus and the minions to follow him. He headed down a corridor Spike did not recognize…

Come to think of it, Spike didn’t recognize their surroundings at all. But he waited until he could no longer hear footsteps, and until he knew that he and Drusilla were truly alone.

“Ponce.”

Spike rolled off of the stone slab, biting down on his bottom lip until he drew blood, so as not utter the sound of pain that fought so willfully to escape. He looked around him and found his duster lying on the floor nearby. He scooped it up and went quickly to Drusilla’s side.

“Dru, luv?” He leaned down over her and brushed her long dark hair gently out of her face. “Can you hear me?”

She opened her eyes, obviously still in a daze. She smiled widely as she peered up at Spike. “My little Spike has found his strength again…”

Spike smiled, glad to see the pleasure on her face at the revelation. He began to undo the bonds that held her.

Drusilla raised her hand once it was free, bringing a finger to her lips. “Shhh. It’s a secret, mustn’t tell. Daddy will be cross.”

“That’s right, Darling.” Spike undid the bonds that held Drusilla’s ankles, then used his duster to wrap around her so her breasts were no longer exposed to the world. “Mustn’t tell, but they’ll know soon enough. But we’ll be gone by then. We have to keep quiet, though.”

He lifted Drusilla into his arms, cradling her carefully before moving swiftly towards the tunnels. He made sure to avoid the one that the others went down. He stretched out his senses and soon caught the distinctly unpleasant scent of the sewers.

He ran quickly down the tunnels, making sure to avoid the occasional unpleasant liquids and slimes. He made good time, Drusilla cradled in his arms and wrapped in his duster. Surprisingly, she had remained mostly silent. Spike switched to game face so he was able to see better in the dark, and peered down at his love. He found her once more in a fitful state of sleep, and at the moment, was glad of it. He approached a ladder leading up to a sewer grate. He still wasn’t far enough from their prison to be satisfied, but he at least had to get his bearings.

Climbing halfway up the ladder, he raised the grate. Some of the sunlight almost burnt his wrist, but he held it up just long enough to take a peek around before lowering it again.

They definitely weren’t in the mansion.

In fact, they had been brought back to the area of town that the warehouse had been located in before an enraged librarian burned it down. Spike could tell from his brief look in the direction that they had run from, that they were being kept right under one of the warehouses.

Deciding that he had wasted enough time, Spike turned a corner and set off in a new direction. He had to get to the mansion. He had to hope that the Slayer’s Watcher was still there, and still in tact. Much to his dismay, he realized that he was going to need the Slayer’s help more than ever. The little blonde chit might be the only thing that could stand between him and his Grandsire.

…………………………………………………………………………………………

The mansion was eerily quiet. There were only a few minions left to putter around. They were all bored, and one had fallen asleep at his post. It was easy for Spike to slip in unnoticed. He saw Acathla standing right where he had before. He briefly thought of smashing the damned troublesome rock to bits if he could find something heavy enough to do so.

But he had to worry about Drusilla first.

The only thing that was going to keep Drusilla safe from the Slayer’s stake was the Watcher. And just as he had suspected, the Watcher had been left bound, to stew in his own juices. Said juices were the blood that was keeping the fledgling minion guarding him in game face. The younger vampire was glancing at the watcher, debating whether or not to take a small sample. Would Angelus notice?

Before he could consider it further, Spike had gently laid Drusilla down in the hallway, shushing her mumbled protests. He crept around the corner and watched the minion that was glancing back and forth before stepping into the room that the watcher was kept in.

By the time Spike stepped into the room, the minion was bent over the dazed and weary Watcher.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, mate.”

The minion spun around, a guilty look on his ridged face. “Master Spi-!”

Spike had picked up one of the longer knives Angelus had used to torture Giles and decapitated the younger vampire before he could finish. The dust fell mostly across the librarian.

“Sorry about that.” Spike said. “Now you look even worse.”

Giles didn’t have enough strength to do more than glare at him. Even that was becoming a chore, and his head was lulling to the side as if he might drift into sleep at any moment.

“You’ve got to be kidding”, Spike grumbled. “I have to carry both?”

He shook his head, then stepped closer to Giles. He raised the knife; somewhat enjoying the way the other man flinched away from him. He cut the bonds that tied him to the chair, but kept his wrists in legs bound. He didn’t want to run the risk of the watcher trying anything while he had Drusilla in his arms, especially when he was going to have to risk the sun to get them all to safety.

……………………………………………………………………………………………..

Buffy was approaching the mansion, sword in hand, and Xander in tow.

“Willow”, Xander said. “Uh, she told me to tell you…”

Buffy stopped and turned back to him again. “Tell me what?”

He hesitated for a moment, unsure. Finally, he made a firm decision. “Kick his ass.”

Before either of them could turn to continue towards the mansion, they both heard rustling in the trees. Buffy turned immediately, raising her sword. “Geez, did all of you decide to play cavalry?”

Keeping in the shadows, Spike burst through the trees and bushes, breathing deep, unnecessary breaths. Buffy’s eyes widened as she took in the site before her. Xander stepped forward to take Spike on himself, but she put an arm out and quickly stopped him.

Spike’s face was covered in bruises from Angel’s beating. His bare chest was covered in blood and a bit of ash from his burnt skin. But it was obvious that a ritual mark was carved into him. There was a bound man draped over his shoulder and Drusilla was in his arms, wrapped in his duster.

“Slight change of plans, ducks.” He managed to mumble.

He leaned down and let Giles fall onto his own feet. The Watcher swayed unsteadily, and for a moment had to lean on the Vampire to keep from falling.

Buffy took in the site of her bleeding and battered father figure before running towards him. “Oh, god, Giles!”





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