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Author's Chapter Notes:
Previously: Buffy caught Hank and Ellen going at it like two horny weasels. She also paid visit to Anya and they proceeded to deepen the connection between them. But then *dun dun dun* Hallie knocked on Anya's door.

Much love to all of you still sticking with the story. Sorry for the lack of update last week; it's been hectic. And Since New Year is in a few days, I'm wishing you all a very successful year!!! :)

Huge thanks to my beta All4Spike who is always so quick and helpful!
Chapter 31

“I see you’ve made yourself at home in this… town.” Hallie sniffed and scanned the living room with a predatory gaze.

Anya said nothing, unwilling to let the other demon see how shaken up she was inside. Not until she managed to get her emotions under wraps.

“Well, you have certainly been here long enough, haven’t you?” Hallie laughed in a way that would seem friendly to anyone who didn’t know better. But Anya did, and the brittle sound made her hackles rise.

“Doing my job, as I’m sure you know.” She strutted past Hallie and sank down on the couch with no intention of offering the other woman a seat.

Hallie’s gaze narrowed as she obviously received the message and sat down with challenge in her eyes. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m here?”

“Please. I’m not stupid.” Anya met her gaze, not letting any weakness seep through. “D’Hoffryn must have sent you.”

Hallie sighed and caressed the fabric of the sofa. Everything about her was coiffed. Every hair in its place, spine straight as a preacher’s ruler, her clothes perfectly matched and ironed. Not a crack in her armor and perhaps for the first time, Anya had the urge to destroy that image of cold perfection.

“I used to idolise you. You used to be number one. D’Hoffryn’s favourite girl.” Her nostrils twitched, her cold brown eyes flashing with jealousy. Perhaps the only real emotion Anya had ever seen her show. “But it is a cutthroat world, isn’t it, Anyanka? You told me once that only the best survive. That we do is the only thing that makes this existence worthwhile. What changed?”

Tension filled the room, huddling in the corners, weaving through the space separating them.

“Nothing changed,” Anya replied calmly.

“Really? Then why haven’t you killed the Potential yet? This town is a rat’s hole. The Anyanka I know would have found her and finished the job weeks ago.”

“Something has been blocking my senses. I tried everything but I can’t find her.” She wasn’t lying about the blocking. But the moment she’d touched Buffy’s locket, everything had changed. The magic had been like electrical current that had sent a shockwave through her fingertips. The moment she’d touched it, she realized Buffy had been wearing something that repelled any other magic that would come into contact with it, including Anya’s capacity to ‘sense’ the presence of a Potential. By the time Buffy stopped wearing it, it had been too late. Anya had already started to care. “You think I like being stuck here? They don’t even have Starbucks, not to mention a decent manicure salon.” She raised her fingers and wiggled them. “Look at my cuticles.”

“D’Hoffryn is not pleased,” Hallie said, reminding Anya of a dog eager to please its master, wagging its tail while waiting for a treat.

Anya’s relaxed poise stiffened as the anger began to boil. “Well, he can get his ass down here and do it himself then.”

“Anya!”

“I have never, ever, disappointed him. I have never failed. I’m not going to fail this time either. I just need more time.”

Hallie’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Time is something we don’t have. We need to kill them all before Angelus does. You know we can’t let him use their power. He’s tipping the balance and once he succeeds, you know what’s going to happen.”

She knew. God, did she. And the secret she held hidden was killing her. “Your presence in Sunnydale is not going to make me work faster. You’re just going to get in my way. So, you can go back now and tell D’Hoffryn I’m working on it.”

The corner of Hallie’s lips quirked in a sneer before she rose to her feet. “Very well. I guess this is my cue to leave.”

The pressure in Anya’s chest loosened and she felt as though she could finally breathe easier. “You can use my portal. It’s in the basement.”

“How convenient.”

Anya hummed in agreement and led Hallie down the hall then climbed down the stairs into the basement.

“Any leads on who the Potential may be?” Hallie asked.

Anya never faltered in her stride as she cleared the last step, her heels clicking on the concrete. “No.”

“I’m really sorry, Anya.”

Sorry for wh—

She turned around and gasped as the sharp blade sank into her gut. Clutching at the hand gripping the handle and twisting it further into her body did nothing but sap her strength. Her knees gave out.

“Y-you can’t—”

Hallie traced the line of her throat with a mockery of gentleness. Then she ripped off the necklace hidden underneath Anya’s blouse. The one thing that held her power.

“I can’t believe you thought you could lie to me. That you’d betray us.” Hallie’s face melted into that of her demon. “The stink of the Potential is all over your living room. Faded, but still.” Hallie looked down on her, her dark eyes unforgiving; a hitman preparing to take the last strike. There would be no mercy. The image was starting to blur at the edges. “Since you wanted to protect a human, you’re going to die as one.”

Her lips were so dry, the words trembling in her throat, unable to slide off her tongue. So hard. Why was it so hard to speak? The pain raced through her veins, pulsing in the open wound pouring her life out on the cement floor. The blood felt almost scorching hot as it slithered past her numb fingers fumbling to staunch the flow.

She’d failed. She’d failed and now everyone would suffer. She had to warn… No time.

She was so scared to die.

Pain exploded in her chest as Hallie plunged the dagger into her heart and the world screeched to a halt then dissolved into nothing.

*******

Like the coward he’d sworn he’d never be again, Spike was hiding. Yeah, he could beat up vampires with only a few bruises on his part, but when it came to dealing with women, he ran like a twelve-year-old girl would run from a rabid cat.

It was Joyce and her meddling that kept him from going back to the house after finishing a job an hour before. Her words from earlier in the morning were stuck in his noggin like that horrible pop song blaring from the radio right now. Fucking autotune. People gave sod about real talent these days.

He grimaced and swallowed a mouthful of Guinness then slammed the half empty bottle back on the beaten cherry wood bar top.

Are you in love with her? Buffy? Because it’s okay if you are, William. Everyone needs someone in their life.

What did Joyce know? With her affinity to read Harlequin novels and seeing the best in everyone and yeah, all right, he may have watched those soaps with her last night but that didn’t mean he enjoyed them. Or rooted for the main characters. He was just… keeping her company. Making sure she was safe while Rupert was out meeting with a colleague to help work out a difficult part of the translation.

The words ‘I love you’ had been permanently wiped from his vocabulary. So what if he still thought about Buffy? Or stopped dead in his tracks when a petite girl with long, dirty blonde hair passed him by. And if he woke up to the taste of her lips imprinted on his, that didn’t mean anything at all.

“I’m bloody well not in love with her!” he muttered moodily, earning him a raised eyebrow from the bartender. “Oh, sod off. Can’t a man talk to himself without being stared at?”

The bartender shrugged and wisely turned his attention to a new customer, leaving Spike to scowl in peace.

A clutch purse slid into view to his right as a feminine voice called out to order a rum and coke.

“Why so glum?”

It took him a few seconds to realise she was talking to him, but her voice was teasing rather than reproaching. He considered giving the pretty brunette a cold shoulder right before the resentment bubbled up. He didn’t owe anyone a bloody thing. In fact, he was single. And he hadn’t had a good shag in far too long.

“Well, I’m feeling decidedly less glum now, pet.” He turned on his bar stool and trained his gaze on the bird in a way that made her flutter her eyelashes in a practiced move. “I’m Spike.”

“Kelsey.”

She extended her hand and he took it, caressed her palm with his thumb and grazed her knuckles with his lips.

“Very nice to meet you,” he purred, putting emphasis on ‘very’.

In the next few minutes, he pulled out all his tricks and laid on the charm real thick. Subtle touches and provocative glances were exchanged. Fifteen minutes later, they stumbled out of the bar, frantically stealing kisses in between strides to his car. All the while he tried to drown out the thoughts telling him this felt wrong. That her lips weren’t as sweet as Buffy’s. That her eyes weren’t the right colour or shape and her dyed hair wasn’t nearly as smooth.

“My apartment is a few blocks from here.” The bird gave him directions and it wasn’t long before he had her propped against the elevator wall, moaning as he squeezed her arse. Oh, she was pretty enough. Eager. Was looking for the same thing he was. Just a one night stand. She was everything he should have wanted to make up for seven months of celibacy.

Ping. The elevator opened.

Yet…

He wished she smelled like wild flowers in the spring instead of artificial roses. That her face was free of make-up that would leave stains on his T-shirt. That her eyes held the unguarded awe instead of meaningless lust she’d probably shared with several other blokes.

He just wished she was…

The keys jingled.

Now or never, Spike.

He slammed the brunette against the door to her flat, undid the top button on her faded jeans, pulled down the zipper and slid his hand inside.

“Ungh… yeah!”

Her fake fingernails dug into his upper arms as he pushed two fingers inside and propelled her towards paradise. Still he felt nothing but frustration, Buffy’s accusing eyes making his arousal wither and die.

“Harder,” she said, obviously unconcerned about her neighbours. That was fine with him. Surely if he kept it up long enough, the image of Buffy’s face would wash away.

Jeans around the brunette’s thighs now, he forced her knees apart and manipulated her towards climax. She let out a loud wail and spasmed around his fingers, looking up at him with a half-drunk smile. “Mmm… you’re good.” The door opened. “Want to come in now?”

Yes. Say yes! “Uh… I’ll take a rain check. See you around.”

What the bloody hell…

She gaped at him with her jeans and knickers around her knees as he wiped his hand on his T-shirt and dashed down the emergency stairs.

“Bugger, bugger, bugger…”

What the fuck was wrong with him? He’d had the bird right there on a silver platter, willing and wet and he’d said he’d take a bleeding rain check?

He should have his male membership revoked right about now.

Are you in love with her?

With a growl, he slid into DeSoto, revved up the engine and floored the gas pedal.

Bloody women would be the death of him.

TBC


Chapter End Notes:
*bites nails* Thoughts?



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