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Chapter 1:

Spike had no idea where he was going or how long they had been traveling. He believed it had only been a few days since his capture, but he couldn’t be sure. They had incarcerated him in a small metal box, with no holes or openings anywhere on it, except for a little slit at the top his captors used to drop blood packets in.

After drinking the first one and finding it laced with sedatives that knocked him out for an indeterminate amount of time he vowed not to drink anymore.

Unfortunately, trapped as he was with now way to tell how many hours were passing, hunger had begun to eat away at him. He finally drank the blood just so he could sleep and alleviate the overwhelming boredom. He knew there was no way out of this for him at this time. All he could do was wait and hope that someone slipped up whenever they decided to remove him from his tiny cage.

During the time he was awake, he racked his brain trying to figure out who would have done this to him. His first thought was Drusilla, wanting to punish him for returning to Sunnydale and proving her right about his fascination with the Slayer. The fact that he went there for a love potion to get her back wouldn’t convince her any different. Then he thought about the Slayer herself, but she wouldn’t use vampires to hunt him down.

Then there was Angelus. He couldn’t help but wonder if the Slayer had made him a happy vamp again. This would be right up his alley to send some lackeys after him and transport him back to Sunnyhell in this box.

The only problem with that was they had been traveling way too long just to head back to Sunnydale.

There was a loud noise and he felt his little box move slightly. He heard noises of vamps approaching. He braced himself, hoping this was going to be his chance to escape.

“Should we wait for the other team to get here so we can move them both together?” One voice asked.

“Nah, I hear they are having trouble with her, we don’t want to get caught up in that. Let’s just get him inside.”

The box was tilted and then Spike could tell he was being carried somewhere. They were obviously climbing up a staircase by the angle they were holding him at and the constant jostling as they climbed upwards. The farther up they went the more Spike could sense power coming from above.

They finally reached the top of the stairs and he could hear the squeaking noise of a large door being swung open on its hinges.

By the time they sat him down, Spike didn’t need anyone to tell him where he was. The feeling of power and family surrounding him, gave him that answer.

He heard them undoing the locks on his prison before they lifted off the lid.

He didn’t stand immediately. First he let his eyes adjust to the light that his eyes had become accustomed to not having.

When he did stand, he did so slowly and made a great show of stretching his cramped muscles and cracking his neck before acknowledging his surroundings. He stared directly at the vampire in front of him. This was the one all the legends and stories were about. Mastema.

Spike had heard he had been around since the time of Job. It had been him that had killed the man’s family and slaughtered his livestock. He was also rumored to have been chosen as the head of the vampires by asking God, himself, to give him control over these demons to exercise his authority because they were intended to lead corrupt and lead astray the evil sons of men before God’s judgment. On his death bead Isaac promises that neither Mastema, nor his spawn will have the power to turn Jacob or his descendants.

Of course who knew how much of that was myth or truth. It was impressive that he was mentioned in the Old Testament, though.

“I got your invitation.” Spike said with a smirk as he gracefully stepped out from the box. “The travel accommodations left a little to be desired though.”

There were gasps around him, as the others were outraged at his lack of respect.

“You should be on your knees, miscreant.” A voice shouted. Several more joined in shouting their agreement.

Spike turned in a circle slowly, meeting the eyes of each and every vampire in the room levelly. The older vampires looked at him with hatred and easily recognizable blood lust, the younger ones didn’t hold the hatred in their eyes the older on had. Instead they looked at him with something close to curiosity or interest. One vampiress in particular gave him a small smile that almost looked like respect.

Spike wondered what that was all about.

When he had turned around three hundred and sixty degrees and was facing forward again Mastema held up his hand and everyone was silenced.

“Why don’t we bring in our other guest?” He said with a cold smile.

The heavy doors swung open again and Spike turned to see who the other ‘guest’ was and finally lost his cool façade, gasping at what he saw. Had he not been familiar with her unique signature that always alerted him to her presence he might not have recognized her.

“Slayer?” He all but whispered, bewilderingly.

Her hair was greasy and matted to her head, her clothing was dirty, torn and by the smell of her she hadn’t showered or bathed in quite a while. Her eyes were surrounded by black from her makeup that had smudged and not wiped away.

Around her neck was a heavy, metal collar about two inches wide, with four metal around it. Attached to each metal ring was a three-foot long metal poles with chains running out from the ends. Four vampires held the end of these chains. From her appearance and the blank look in her eyes, Spike assumed they must have broken her on the trip here.

Then they began to escort her in. As soon as they moved she began kicking out. The poles made sure she couldn’t reach any of them, but that didn’t stop her from trying. She clawed at the collar with her hands desperately.

She had to sense as well as Spike could the strength and age of the vampires present. Even if she managed to get free, she had to know there would be no way out for her.

Yet that didn’t stop her from fighting them, she seemed determined not to give.

Spike respected her resilience.

At one point when she kicked out with her right leg, the handlers on her left hand side pulled sharply causing her to lose her balance and fall to the ground. The vampires around the room laughed as they began dragging her quickly towards the middle of the room. She scrambled to stand so they wouldn’t keep dragging her causing her to choke and cough.

When they finally came to a stop, next to him, Spike could see now that some of what he thought was dirt was actually dark bruises on her skin and she smelled even worse close up.

Spike had the urge to lean down and help her stand up, but he refrained. He wasn’t sure what he had done to incur the wrath of the most powerful vampires in existence. Actually he had actually committed any number of crimes that would earn him the right to be here like this, he just wasn’t sure what they knew about. Either way he doubted that showing kindness to a Slayer would help him in any way.

He might be reckless, but he wasn’t an idiot.


Buffy lay there panting from exertion. Days, possibly a week or more trapped in darkness. A large metal crate, no bathroom, no bed. They would throw rotting food at her. She even tried to eat it in an attempt to keep her strength up. Some of it she could stomach, some of it made her ill. She spent most of her time engaging in meditation techniques that Giles had been trying to teach her designed to improve her skills. If it weren’t for them she probably would have gone mad.

When they had finally arrived here her Slayer senses went crazy. She felt like someone had attached live wires to her. When they opened the box she made no movements or noise and they had mistakenly assumed they had broken her.

“She gave you trouble?” Mastema growled out.

His voice caused the currents running through Buffy to strengthen noticeably.

“She killed six of my men before we could get the collar on. It took another twelve to get it done.” The large vampire who had first captured her in Sunnydale answered.

“And she injured four of them.” Another vamp muttered.

“Would you shut up!” The first vampire snarled.

“Silence.” The voice booming like that caused all of Buffy’s muscles to tense. Every instinct in her body was calling out for her to destroy the owner of that voice. She concentrated on controlling herself, knowing now wasn’t the time. She wasn’t going to get very far. She finally caught her breath and looked up.

As soon as she saw the shrunken figure in the center, who kinda reminded her of one of those hairless cats, she knew he was the one. He was the leader of them all.

She observed him for a few moments while he continued addressing her captors.

“Your arrogance cost you your men, and could have cost you your life had she managed to get free.” He looked directly at Buffy and she felt her lips curl into a snarl. “Be thankful you don’t join her in her fate.” A shiver ran through her, revulsion not fear.

“Welcome Slayer.” He sounded so smug and happy now. “This is the first time one of your kind has ever come here.”

Buffy turned her head and took in her surroundings.

No wonder her Slayer senses were going nuts, every one of these vampires was old and powerful. She looked towards the other side of the room and swallowed. In her present state she didn’t think she could handle one of them, much less this many.

She was going to die here.

Fear finally broke through the wall she had been keeping it behind and steadily began to grow into panic. She tried to rein it in, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of smelling it on her.

Then she noticed someone standing next to her, someone who felt familiar. She noticed the dark Doc Martens first.

Fear was replaced by white-hot rage.

“Spike!” She hissed. She jerked so suddenly her handlers almost lost their grip on her chains, but they managed to pull her back before she reached her quarry.

She hit the floor choking and gasping. “What have you done?” She wheezed in between coughs. She didn’t take the time to wonder about the pain of betrayal she felt.

“That’s what I’d like to know, Slayer.” Spike commented.

She glanced at him in confusion. If he wasn’t the one behind this, then why was he here?

He jerked his head towards Mastema. They both turned their eyes back towards the powerful vampire.

“William the Bloody, you are here for the murder of the Anointed One.” Mastema began.

Spike exploded. “WHAT?” He roared. “Of all the things I’ve done over the years you want to come after me for offing that little…”

”SILENCE!” Mastema bellowed. Spike quieted immediately, but only because he had no choice under the influence of the Sire’s voice. He almost growled in anger, but stopped himself. That would be considered a direct challenge.

“He was the vessel which would allow the Master of you line to return. Mastema finished.

If anything that only made Spike happier her got rid of him when he had the chance.

“Buffy Anne Summers, you are charged with the death of my favorite Childe and the Master of the Aurelius line.”

He paused dramatically, perhaps waiting for them to realize the severity of their crimes.

“And now for your punishment…”

“You mean having to look at you wasn’t punishment enough?” Buffy asked.

Spike tried to hide his smirk. He did.

“Sire, we should just kill her right now.” The vampire next to Mastema said. He was almost as pretty as Mastema, himself.

“No, this is going to be much more entertaining.” He laughed and addressed Buffy. “Your smart comments are not going to save you. You are both sentenced to life imprisonment in my Garden. Not that you will live long. I have a zoo of sorts there. I have collected many different species of demons that have long since left this realm.” He sat back in his chair. “Know that we will enjoy watching you get ripped apart.” He smiled in delight and gestured with his hand.

“Take them away.”

As soon as the guards closed in around Spike he dropped into a defensive position. His plan was to go out fighting, no incarceration for him.

“Stop.” Again Mastema used the Sire voice on him and he had no choice but to obey. This time he did growl at the older vampire, but he didn’t even respond to the challenge.

Spike noticed that Buffy had resumed her desperate struggle, but there was no hope for her either. A vampire got close enough behind her to kick her soundly in the head and she slumped to the ground.

Spike’s guards restrained his arms and put a collar on his neck similar to Buffy’s before they began taking him out of the room. Buffy’s guards just drug her unconscious form.





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