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Her eyes flickered with soft silver light as she warily passed through the crumbling husk of what used to be the Sunnydale morgue. The demon stirred, and she could feel it almost quivering with tension, a taste of what was to come shivering in the air around her. Like a ghost, she drifted towards the dangerously unstable stairway, pausing at the top to take a deep breath.

Falling into herself, she freed the restraints that held the demon in check. A rush of swaggering confidence made her lips curl into a sneering snarl. With hands trembling with eagerness, she hurriedly stripped. The cold night air went unnoticed against her cool skin as she gracefully descended the creaking stairs.

Arriving at the bottom, she again took a moment to study her surroundings. A large, empty space formed a rough circle at the centre of the room; she could see the careless way objects had been thrown against the walls to clear the arena. A groan from her right caused her head to snap around.

Spike was manacled to the wall, one wrist chained to the other. He was standing, but he was leaning against the stone for support. Having heard someone coming down the stairs, he’d hauled his bruised and drained body upright, though he was far too weak to fight. Then he pried his eyes open, finding glittering silver staring back at him.

“Buffy?”

He watched the shadow-cloaked figure twitch in recognition, but otherwise she only gave a soft, intrigued purr. His scent was so familiar; she didn’t know who he was, but she knew what he was. Her mate. Mine. Smelling another’s mark on him made her purr change to an angry growl.

And answering snarl directed her attention to the corner of the room. Her eyes picked out Dru’s naked form as it rose from the darkness. Fangs still bared, she stalked to the centre of the circle, her gaze never wavering from that of her foe as they tested the will of the other.

They met and stood silently studying one another before the Buffy-demon growled a challenge. Dru snarled again. Almost simultaneously, they raised a wrist to their lips. Cutting a neat slice in the tender flesh, Buffy took a moment to let the blood well up before extending her arm. Their wrists touched as her sibling mirrored her actions, their combined blood hanging in the air for a moment before it dropped to the floor.

A wall of fire roared up around them, crackling hungrily. Instantly their limbs dropped to their sides as they skipped back, feeling the heat from the flames against their skin. Spike, made fully alert by the furious exchange of growls, stared at the spectacle before him in a mixture of fear and awe.

The fire glowed against their skin, warming it and making it seem flawless in the eerie half-light. They were both naked, their muscles rippling under their skin as they suddenly darted forwards with a combined snarl, fangs flashing as they snapped at one another, their delicate hands locked together as they fought to overpower the foe.

Buffy’s golden hair seemed turned to dark honey as she jumped back, taking her raven-haired opponent by surprise. The taller vampiress stumbled, helped by a savage wrench as the former Slayer tore her hands abruptly away. Drusilla, or that was who he assumed the unknown vampire was, lurched forwards.

In a display of inhuman agility, she twisted her lithe body and landed, cat-like, on all fours. Immediately she was up again, amber eyes glowing furiously as she launched herself back at Buffy. The blonde landed hard, one hand scrabbling for purchase to stop her slide as the other held Dru’s fangs away from her eyes.

Baring her own sharp teeth, she suddenly relaxed her body and slithered further down underneath the dark-haired vampiress. Her fangs were buried swiftly into her sister’s ribcage, slicing back and forth as the former Slayer shook her head like a terrier with a rat, tearing the delicate skin.

Dru gave a hoarse shriek of pained rage, leaping upright. Buffy followed, and the two circled each other, trading taunts and mocking snarls that Spike couldn’t quite hear. Then, in a move he couldn’t quite understand, his gorgeous girl stilled, looked her foe straight in the eye, and spat out a mouthful of the vampiress’ blood. Just before the smoke came down and blocked his view, he saw the raven-haired demoness’ eyes widen in comical fury.

Inside the circle, Buffy circled slowly, wary eyes on Drusilla. She’d seen Spike watching them, his face a terrible mask of fear for her. His confused, pain-fogged eyes had given her new strength. As her sister again jumped forwards, she flattened herself against the floor, raising a slender leg and jamming it into her attacker’s stomach.

For a moment Dru stilled, pain evidently coursing through her body. Then she began struggling, Buffy’s leg muscles trembling with the effort of supporting the other’s body. She turned her head to avoid a swipe at her eyes, and in that split second her sister took action.

Using her greater weight as leverage, she rolled off the blonde’s foot, landing heavily on the floor, the rush of pain from the gashes on her ribs going ignored. Buffy, taken by surprise, was rolled over once again until Dru straddled her, a slender hand gripping her wrist as she bucked and writhed desperately.

Her sister merely laughed, the same cold, cruel laughter of her dream. It sent a chill of awareness washing over her, and her demon faltered uncertainly. A stab of pain brought her back to the present as the insane vampiress dug a sharp nail into her cheek. Gasping at the agony, Buffy snarled and shook her head, dislodging the finger but tearing the skin of her face in one instant.

As though out of nowhere, an idea floated into her mind. She went limp and still, her eyes lowering submissively as she bared her throat. Dru’s amber gaze glistened with adrenaline and triumph as she bent, fangs extended, ready to slice open her sister’s neck and drain her, leaving only dust on the floor like so much trash.

The vampiress above her bent, and for a moment she was off-balance. With a desperate lunge, Buffy sank her own fangs into Dru’s stretched-out neck. Shocked, the raven-haired demoness paused. Buffy, still gripping the flesh in her mouth painfully tight, raised a foot. Jerking it upwards, she planted it firmly in Drusilla’s abdomen.

Summoning the waning strength in her exhausted muscles, she gave a great heave. The flesh of her sister’s throat gaped open as she flew up and outwards, the smaller vampiress’ fangs tearing the pale skin. Dru gave an agonised wail before she landed, as Buffy had intended, half lying in the ring of flames.

Before her sister could rise, the former Slayer was across the arena. Reaching into the fire, growling at the blistering heat the scorched her arms, she gripped Dru by the hair and gave a deafening roar of victory as she twisted. A last whimper from the insane vampiress and she crumbled into dust.

****

Angelus froze for a moment that seemed as long as an eternity as blinding pain raced through his awareness. A hollow ache suddenly throbbed into life in his head, and he clutched at it in vain. Seeking the source of his agony, he straightened, eerily still, when he realised that his connection to his darling childe had been brutally severed.

Opening the link to Buffy, he was shocked to feel the glittering, feral triumph roaring through her veins. Pumped up and obviously high on power, her demon unceremoniously threw him from her mind, shutting off the connection hard. As fresh agony burst through him, he bellowed his fury and balled his hands into fists. His former lover would pay for this. Pay dearly.

****

At first she’d been afraid that the demon, made strong by its victory, wouldn’t relinquish its hold on her body. Then Angelus had probed her mind, and it had gone snarling to kick him out. Taking advantage of the distraction, the Slayer part of her seized control and held it firmly. Surprisingly, the demon merely rumbled in irritation before submissively settling down to heal.

Her eyes faded from silver to green as her body slumped wearily. Her muscles suddenly ached, the numerous bruises and cuts that littered her naked skin stinging. When she looked up, however, the wall of flames still burned as fiercely as ever. Cocking her head, she studied it with weary eyes before realising what she had to do.

****

Spike was frantic with worry. The smoke had obscured his view of the fight totally, only the occasional snatches of sound reaching him, though he couldn’t make sense of the primal growls. However, all sounds had suddenly cut off, and he was terrified that Buffy was hurt or, the darkest part of his mind whispered, dusted, all because of his insecurity.

His head slumped forward in defeat for a moment, a wave of pain threatening to swamp him before something made him look up. His eyes widened in awe as the smoke cleared, giving him an unobstructed view of the arena.

****

Buffy took a deep, though unneeded, breath before stepping shakily forward. Even when she closed her eyes, she could still see the flames towering over her. Their heat was making her skin feel tight and itchy. The final test she’d been set suddenly seemed impossible.

Then a rush of despair from behind the curtain of flames made her head snap up. Her eyes opened and narrowed, her chin rising in defiance. With a growl of dominance, she stepped forwards and through the fire.

Pure, unadulterated agony ripped through her body and seared across her every nerve as she howled in pain. Her skin felt like it was going to melt from her body, her every movement making the torture started afresh. And, as suddenly as they had appeared, the flames flared once around her and vanished.

Buffy slumped to her knees, whimpering as her temperature rapidly fell. Then a hoarse word from above her made her raise stinging, exhausted eyes. “Buffy?”

She gave a weak smile and a little wave. Gathering the reserves of energy she rarely had to touch, she rose on trembling legs. A brutal tug snapped his chains, and then she was in his arms, and he was holding her with fierce tenderness, murmuring soothing words into her hair as she wavered on the edge of consciousness.

He supported her as she staggered to the stair, effortlessly lifting her tiny body as they ascended. He helped her dress, his firm grip stopping her from falling as fabric rasped against her bleeding wounds. Then, leaning heavily on the Slayer at her side, the vampiress stumbled into the night.





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