She sighed, flipping through channel after channel of the nothing that tended to be on at this hour. She'd hoped that when they'd been able to move into a room with a working television that maybe at least that would keep her occupied while she waited for him to come back, but it rarely helped her boredom. Apparently, the general point of view for the people that decided on programming was that if you were awake at this hour, then you were in search of a cure for insomnia as opposed to actual entertainment.
She supposed she could go to sleep. Despite the fact that she usually stayed asleep well into the afternoon, Buffy also tended to spend most of her waking hours having sex with an insatiable vampire, which was cause for exhaustion. But with Spike out, she couldn't manage to rest. Instead, she waited and worried, keeping the connection the claim formed open between them so she could get a sense of whether or not he was in any sort of trouble.
Needing some sort of distraction from how slowly the clock seemed to be moving, Buffy went over to the mini-fridge and pulled out the pint of ice cream she had in there. She'd noticed recently that she had put on some weight since she'd gotten with Spike, though she thought she probably still classified as underweight. But her bones weren't sticking out the way they once had, and that was a start. Despite what fashion magazines tried to tell her, she hadn't liked being that skeletal.
She brought the ice cream back to the bed and ate it from the container as she went back to waiting for Spike.
"Hey, are you the guy that's been lookin' for the vamp that did in that Slayer back in '85?"
Spike grew rigid for a moment, the question taking him by surprise. He'd been just about to give up on this particular bar for the night. He turned and faced the man who had asked it. The man looked human enough on the outside, albeit an unkempt human, but his scent told Spike this was definitely a demon. "I might be. Who's asking and why?"
"Name's Louie," the demon said. "And I'm askin' 'cause I might have some information—if you've got payment, that is."
Spike lifted Louie off the ground by his neck as he slipped into gameface. "I don't rip out your liver and feed it to you. That payment enough?"
"Yeah, yeah, that's good," Louie choked, gasping for breath as his legs kicked in the air.
Spike set him back down. "Right then. Spill."
"There's this vamp, calls himself Mack. Word on the street is, he's the one."
"Do you have any sort of proof other than that?" Spike asked.
Louie shook his head. "No. I just heard, is all. Mack's been in L.A. for years now, got himself a real sweet set-up, lots of minions. People say he got that from killin' a Slayer. Gave him a rep."
"Right then. Can you tell me where I can find this Mack?"
"Sure, sure. I know where he nests. I can give you the address."
Spike knew it was a long shot—and possibly even a trap—but it was the only thing he'd gotten that even resembled a lead, and he was going to take it. "All right then, Louie—give me what you got."
Spike sat in the driver's seat of his car, the engine idling, as he stared down at the cocktail napkin Louie had given him with Mack's supposed address. It was nearby, at it would be quicker if he drove straight there now instead of going back to the motel. Besides, going back would mean having to take Buffy with him since there was no way she'd let him go alone.
The part of him that was her mate didn't like that at all. Louie had told him Mack had lots of minions, and bringing Buffy along could get her hurt. None of them would be able to bite her with his marks on her, but there were plenty of things a vampire could do to hurt someone that didn't involve fangs. He knew that very well.
But he also knew that Buffy would feel that it was important for her to accompany him. If Mack did turn out to be her mother's killer, she'd want to be there. Hell, she'd want to be the one who did the dusting.
Bringing her with him would put her in danger. Not bringing her with him would upset her and possibly drive a wedge between them again.
Cursing under his breath, Spike drove out of the parking lot.
Buffy could tell something was going on. Since Spike had started going out searching for leads on her mother's death, his emotions had tended to stay in the neighborhood of either frustrated or disappointed. Now there was something else, though his mind was so jumbled up it was hard for her to pinpoint exactly what.
By the time she felt him returning to the motel room, Buffy was up and dressed, pacing back and forth as she waited. The closer he got, the more anxious she grew, and by the time he was actually at the door, she felt as if she were about to jump out of her skin.
Spike was a little surprised to find her pacing the hotel room, but then he realized he hadn't even attempted to shield his emotions through the claim, and that Buffy looked about how he felt. "C'mon, kitten," he said, deciding to cut to the chase. "We've got a lead."
Buffy's only response was a nod as she followed Spike out of the motel. They were silent as well in the car, the tension seeming so thick that Buffy decided to hold her questions. Spike would tell her what she needed to know when it was time.
She frowned a little when she realized how much trust she'd put in Spike by thinking that, but then quickly pushed that thought away. She had more important things to deal with right then.
Spike brought the DeSoto into the parking lot of an old warehouse, then cut off the engine and turned to Buffy. "I need you to stay in the car now. There's a vamp in there, might be the one that killed your mum, but I'm not positive. The source wasn't the greatest I've ever known. But he also said this bloke's got himself some minions, and if I walk in there with you, it's going to be a fight."
"So what's the plan then?" Buffy asked. "Spike, if this is the guy that killed my mom, I want to…"
"I know," Spike said, cutting her off. "I'm going to try to get him out here. I don't fancy fighting my way through minions when there could be an easier way."
"You want me to sit out here and wait for you to bring the vampire out?"
Spike nodded. "Can you do that, Buffy?" If he'd been breathing, he would've held his breath. Everything was too up in the air for her to pick now to be willful.
"I can do that," Buffy told him. "Just…try to be quick."
He smiled with relief. "I will, pet." Spike reached under his seat and dug around until he found what he was looking for, then handed it to Buffy. "For if you get harassed by a vampire that's not me."
Buffy tightened her hand around the stake. It surprised her a little at first to know that Spike traveled with a stake, but then she realized it was probably a smart thing for a vampire to do. It's not like they could trust their own kind at all times. Hell, Spike was planning to betray another vampire as they spoke. "I know what to do, Spike."
"I know you do. Just wanted to make sure you were armed, is all. You're claimed as mine, so another vampire can't drink you, but that doesn't mean they can't hurt you."
"Just go, get him out here, okay? I'll sit in the car and wait. And if any vampires that aren't you harass me, I'll make them all dusty. Present company excluded, I really am good at that."
Spike chuckled low in his throat. "All right, kitten. I'll be back as soon as I can." He leaned in and kissed her, taking a moment to savor the feel of his mate before he faced the uncertainty he'd find in the warehouse.
For a moment after they broke apart, they were silent, their eyes locked. Spike held Buffy's face in his hand, his thumb caressing her cheek. She was the first to pull away, her gaze turning down to the floorboards, and Spike thought for a moment that he might have been able to make out a blush on her cheeks in the darkness. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he told her again before he slipped out of the car.
Buffy gripped the stake tightly in her hand as she watched him go.
Spike would've bet good money that the minion he encountered at the door to the warehouse had been a bouncer before he was turned. He was big and imposing, his shiny bald head glistening in the harsh gleam of the security light. He glared at Spike with amber eyes, beefy arms crossed over an equally beefy chest. "The master ain't lookin' for no company."
Despite the superior size of the other vampire, Spike wasn't at all intimidated. His senses were telling him that this vampire might have height and muscle on him, but he didn't have age, and Spike refused to be intimidated by a fledgling. "Well, you can tell your master that William the Bloody wishes to speak to him. I'll wait."
The bouncer vamp's face was impassive as he shut the door and disappeared back into the warehouse. Spike waited impatiently, tapping his booted foot and hoping that he wouldn't have to end up just busting in. Normally, he wouldn't care one way or another, but this was for Buffy, which meant he needed to do it right.
The vampire came back a few minutes later, announcing as he opened the door, "The master will see you."
Spike gave a nod and stepped into the warehouse, his leather duster sweeping behind him. He followed the large vampire through the dark, the sounds of music coming from just up ahead. When they reached the main part of the warehouse, Spike found that he'd apparently crashed a party. Vampires filled the large space, reminding Spike of an evil nightclub—which furthered his bouncer theory.
A few humans had apparently been brought in as well, as Spike turned away in disgust as he saw them being savagely fed on. Then he realized that that shouldn't disgust him, and his stomach turned more. Since when did he feel ill at the sight of vampires feeding?
He decided to chalk it up to the way the vampires were feeding. There was no need to be quite that messy about it. Wasted too much blood, for one thing.
"The famous William the Bloody! What a surprise to find you at my door!"
Spike turned towards the sound of the voice, fighting to roll his eyes at his first glimpse of Mack. The vampire couldn't even be half a century, though the way he was sprawled out in a throne of all things, he must've thought he was practically an ancient. He had a scantily clad female vampire on either side of him, one holding a golden chalice full of blood that she periodically raised to Mack's lips.
Spike began to doubt the validity of his information even more. This did not look like the sort of vampire that could take out the longest-lived Slayer in history. Spike had fought Joyce several times, and this vamp would've have even posed a challenge for her. He was pathetic, a minion trying to play master. A bit insulting, too, for someone who had reached the status Spike had in the vampire world by actually earning it.
"Yeah, well, I was in town, and I heard something interesting about you. Thought I'd check up on it," Spike said, his stance full-out cocky swagger. He may have not been as tall as the bald vampire that had led him in, but when it came down to it, that didn't mean much of anything. He was a master vampire from the most powerful Order, and the Slayer of Slayers on top of that. Not a vampire in there could compete with him, not even master-wannabe Mack.
"Did you now?" Mack asked, shooing away the chalice as it came up again. "And what was that?"
"I heard you took out a Slayer a few years ago, right here in Los Angeles."
Mack grinned, his fangs glinting. "You heard right then. Longest-lived Slayer in history. Apparently she'd been giving lots of other vampires some trouble, you included."
Spike fought hard to keep his anger in check at the smug look on Mack's face now. Reacting like that wouldn't get him what he needed. He had to appear humble if his plan was to work.
Humbling himself in front of this loser… Spike really hoped Buffy appreciated all he did for her.
Spike moved closer to the throne. "Right. She did. Seems that you succeeded where I failed time and time again. That's what I wanted to talk to you about."
Mack sat up straighter. "Oh?"
"Yeah, see…" Spike dropped his voice, trying his best to sound ashamed. "I'm the Slayer of Slayers, you know, but I just couldn't seem to get the best of this one. I've been real down on my game since then, not able to find the confidence I need to keep taking on Slayers. Fought one in Sunnydale not too long ago, and she gave me nothing but trouble, too. I thought maybe…" Spike swallowed, the next words out of his mouth some of the hardest he'd ever had to say. "I thought maybe you could give me some pointers."
Glee was evident on Mack's face. "You want me to tell you how to kill Slayers? Seriously?"
Spike nodded. "Clearly, you know something that I don't."
"Okay then, I'll tell you all about how I bested the Slayer. See…"
"No," Spike said quickly. "Not here. You think maybe we could have this conversation in private? I've got a reputation to protect, you know."
"Oh, sure," Mack said, rising awkwardly from his throne. "Come on. There's a place back here where we can talk."
Spike nodded, but said nothing as he followed Mack out of the main room. That had gone unbelievably smoothly, and he hoped that as he went off alone with the other vampire that he wasn't the one being played for a fool.
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