Chapter 8

Yellow police tape hung over the cellar door, the plastic illuminated by the dim overhead light covered in dust and spider webs. Spike ignored the warning and ripped open both doors, splintering the wood at the lock. A low hum coming from the upstairs refrigerator vibrated against the rafters in the otherwise silent house.

Spike shifted into gameface. His yellow eyes glowed against the wooden staircase as his heavy booted steps echoed off the walls. By the smell of the place, he expected the site he found on the concrete floor, even though the bodies were taken away the night before. Three chalk outlines sat next to an empty table with discarded electrical cords strung across it draping onto the floor.

Leaning down, he took a deep breath through his nose and inhaled the sweet smell of death. A bitter, rancid smell mixed in the air stinging his nostrils.

"Magic," he scoffed. "Smells like Warren's band of nerds got what they bloody well deserved this time." But there was something more to the aroma than just magic and death. A faint trace of demonic essence lingered.

Spike breathed in deeper.

Peppered with spice and an underlying hint of musk, the smell reminded me him of a voynok demon, but their scent held a flare of smoke. This odor was something else. Something familiar and recent.

His mind formed a list of the demons he'd fought in the past few weeks, checking each one off until he stopped with the demon from last night.

The ender.

Its scent flooded his mind, bringing back the memory of the tentacle demon holding Buffy by each limb consuming her soul like a fine wine.

Luckily, he'd been there to save her. But the whole bloody episode should have never happened in the first place. If he hadn't left her and ran off like a love struck fool, he would have been with her when the demon attacked. He would have protected her and fought the demon on his own. An easy fight for him anyway, since he didn't have a soul to consume.

All too well, he knew how deadly the demon was to her. A true destroyer of something light and pure.

His face twisted with anguish, that night burning deep, penetrating his nerve endings until a roar erupted from his chest, reverberating the windows. He wished he had a neck to snap or a jugular to latch onto, the demon inside screaming for retribution. Instead of the mayhem he desired, he grabbed ahold of a nearby table and threw it against the concrete walls. The wood shattered, breaking into shards putting the vampire in a precarious situation if a piece hit his heart. But he didn't care.

Nothing mattered except for the rage pouring out of him. His body shook as he picked anything within his fingertips. Chairs, shelves, books, even a couch, slammed against the wall until the room looked like a tornado had just blown through. If only he could rip the rafters down along with the rest, the place deserving a special place in hell.

Which gave him an idea. Not the brightest one, but it called to the ear-splitting thunder erupting from his demon. The compulsion was too much, and he couldn't deny it any longer.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes along with a lighter from his jeans pocket and lit one. He took a deep, shaky draw off the light. The smoke barely relaxed his frazzled nerves before he flicked the cigarette into a pile of old clothes he found in a stray box. The polyester blend ignited quickly spreading to a mangled old navy couch, the fire burning hot against his face.

Tight-lipped, he smiled at the yellow and orange waves, mollified the place would be nothing but rubble come morning. He lit another cigarette, and watched the fire spread along wall sparking the insulation stuffed in the timbers. His duster billowed behind as he turned away from the fire pit, leaving the basement before anyone could notice the smoke and call the fire department.

The moon gleamed in the night sky, teasing him with a peaceful and calm existence battling torrential hail thrashing his unbeating heart. Discovering the source of the demon added to the betrayal and heartbreak after a particular girl decided to ditch him.

At sundown, he'd left his crypt with his eyes set on Revello drive, all too eager to bury his need to see how she was. Hopefully, his move to inform Dawn had kept her calm and forced her to get much-needed sleep. A new day might lead her to realize the consequences of a slayer's death wish, and make sure she never thought of it again.

The thought of one good day sickened him to his core. Nausea burned his useless stomach, his mind jumping to a place he refused to visit, putting Buffy's face on a limp, lifeless body.

Which brought him back to the night before when he left her in Dawn's hands. He'd went to visit his old acquaintance finding the entire street filled with flashing blue and red lights, blocking off all vehicles to the neighborhood. Staying far enough back to remain unseen, he listened. Three bodies were found in the basement with no signs of struggle or trauma. Police believed the men inflicted on themselves a lethal combination of fungi and elixirs found close to their bodies.

Once he was sure Warren was no longer a threat, he retreated to his crypt and believed him and Buffy would check out the place tonight. But he'd been a stupid git and actually believed her. Big surprise she'd changed her mind and stood him up.

Replaying this shit wasn't helping him rein in his anger. Instead, it gnawed at his insecurities, second guessing everything he'd done.

Sirens sounded in the distance as he walked toward the center of town with one thought on his mind.

He was going to find her and figure out what the hell was going on.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

An indie band from LA played on the stage, the dance floor full with a mix of high school and college students dressed up in their Halloween garb gyrating to the music. Up above, a witch and a warlock leaned against the railing, ready to test a few things out.

Willow kept pulling at the sleeves of her jean jacket, almost afraid to speak. She hadn't been this nervous since her first day of college.

Jordyn elbowed her, and she turned with a hesitant smile.

"Why the sad face, Red? This isn't a walk to the guillotine, just a simple test." He smirked.

Willow straightened her shoulders and held her head high. "I'm not nervous, just anxious about what this test is. You've been pretty secretive since we met up."

He shrugged. "I needed to see your resolve before we went any further. Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Willow nodded.

"Alright then, let's get this party started." He rubbed his hands together and swung his right hand out. Sparks shot out erupting in a quiet explosion of white, pink and green. "Let the games begin."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Buffy and Dawn exited the theater, throwing away an empty bag of popcorn and two soda cups in the trash. The black and white movie feature about a giant gorilla captured and brought to New York City left them feeling saddened, a bit disturbed, and majorly entertained. The perfect combination for scary movie night. Even if they didn't believe the film fit the monster feature title.

"Is it weird that I was pulling for King Kong the entire movie?" Buffy asked.

"No, I was too." Dawn dismissed the comment with the flick of her hand. "He tried to save Ann in the end. I'd say that made him a hero."

"It reminded me of the beauty and the beast plot in a way. Ann was supposed to be invested in men like Jack Driscoll or Carl Denham, but it was the animal she sought out."

Dawn smirked at her.

"What?"

She burst out into a fit of giggles. "I can't believe you don't realize what you just said."

"What? I don't understand," Buffy begged.

"It reminds me of you and Spike."

Rolling her eyes, she swatted her sister's shoulder. "You have got to be kidding. This again."

"Oh no, you brought this on yourself."

"Says you."

A shriek erupted nearby. Both girls turned their attention to the noise, Buffy ready to step into action. She hadn't needed to worry.

"Dawn, is that you?" A girl in bellbottom pants, crop top, and a Farrah Fawcett hairstyle rushed in their direction, her platform shoes clacking against the concrete sidewalk.

"Janice?" Dawn said.

"The one and only!" Janice replied with a smile. Following close behind, a boy with buzzed brown hair spoke in a hushed tone to another boy wearing a baggy jacket and overly gelled hair. Once the brunette locked eyes with Dawn, he smiled at her but remained silent.

Dawn stared at Janice, incredulously. "I can't believe you did it! You totally dressed up as one of Charlie's Angels."

"Oh no, my dear. The Angel. Jill Munroe herself." She giggled.

Buffy watched the teenage exchange take place, at one point rolling her eyes when Janice seemed to want approval of her trendy taste in retro female heroines. If only this girl had an interest in Dorothy Hamill then maybe she might see what Dawn saw in her.

She laughed at herself at the little piece of mom coming out of her, judging her friends while putting on what she hoped was the air of cool.

"We're heading to the Bronze. Do you want to come?" Janice asked excitedly.

"I don't know. Me and Buffy were..."

"Don't worry about it," Buffy waved her off. This was the perfect opportunity to get a move on with patrol, and keep Dawn occupied without an argument. "I have that thing I was going to a bit later anyway. You go ahead with your friends for a while. I'll get it taken care of. Then I'll meet you at the Bronze to walk you home."

Dawn moved away from her friend, shielding them both away from prying eyes. Whispering, she said, "Are you sure? I mean I don't mind to-"

"I'll be okay. Just a quick run around town, and I'll meet up with you. Promise." Plus I can check out Warren's house and see if anything is happening there. No way would I take Dawn with me to that creep's house.

The last bit seemed to please, Dawn's shoulders relaxing and a grin formed on her lips. She turned back to her friends. "Looks like I'm good to go."

"Yay!" Janice said.

With the teenage excitement, Buffy needed to make a few things crystal clear if she was going to trust her sister with a group. Especially since the outing included boys. "Just the Bronze, though. I'll meet you at eleven."

Dawn pouted, then smiled. "Deal. See you at midnight."

"Eleven," she said, sternly.

"Fine."

A wave of apprehension hit Buffy while she watched the group walked away. The two girls spoke animatedly as the boys followed, high-fiving. Did she just allow her little sister to go out on a group date without realizing it? Shit. I was so busy trying to find a way to patrol without pissing off Dawn, that I just gave her permission to party with a boy I've never met. Let alone heard her talk about. God, I suck at this parenting thing.

With it too late to take back her decision, Buffy took off in the opposite direction, deciding to speed through patrol and catch Warren's house on the way back. Maybe if she finished early enough, she could head to the Bronze and watch from a table on the second level. Dawn wouldn't have any idea.

Satisfied with her decision, she cut through a dark alleyway with a row of dumpsters that smelled of soured chicken mixed with sweaty gym socks. The aroma nauseated the buttered popcorn swaying in her stomach, and she quickly exited to an adjacent walkway. Once the smell was far behind, Spike stepped out of the shadows.

"Slayer." His eyes hardened, voice reverberating off the red brick and mortar walls.

She skidded to a halt, rolling her eyes. "And so my night is complete."

"You weren't home."

"Sorry. Kinda busy doing stuff."

"Oh, now I see how it is."

"Good. Then I guess we're done here." Her smile stretched, sickly sweet with an underlying current of spite. She took a step around him, but he moved in front of her blocking her escape.

"What the hell are you doing?" She grumbled.

"What does it look like?"

"Being a pain in my ass."

"Could be much more than that, luv." A sly curl formed on his lips, heat rising in his eyes as they roamed down her body.

Scarlet colored her cheeks, butterflies tickling her stomach as she imagined what those lips and nimble fingers could do to her warm body. A half-lidded smile formed on her face, but she quickly shook it away. Damn it, she was pissed at him. No way was she going to let a lingering gaze and innuendo drop her guard even if he did look yummy. "Again, I ask. What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? Chasing you down." He bit out the last few words with repressed anger, then seemed to control it. "What happened tonight? Went to your house and you were gone. Thought I was supposed to stop by and check in."

She shrugged. "Oh, yeah. Forgot about it."

"Oh, please. You can't expect me to buy that."

With anger as her buffer, she hid that pesky vulnerability that kept nudging out. "That's what I'm selling. Take it or leave it. Matter of fact. How about you just leave."

A deep penetrating laugh escaped his lips. The sound eerily familiar to times before when he once taunted her with threats of bloodshed and death, except now his eyes danced with heated passion. His trademark smirk slid into place, and he flashed in front of her.

"Don't think so." He leaned down, his cool lips brushed against her ear, and he breathed with a harsh whisper. "Not until you answer the sodding question."

A shiver rippled through her shoulders, moving up into her neck frustrating her even more. She had to get away from him. Like now. "You don't deserve one."

She spun her entire body around in a twirl, catching him by surprise with the sweep of her leg and knocked him to the pavement. She leaped over him and ran down the narrow alley refusing to look back, instead focusing on the lit path to freedom.

Right as she was about to turn around the corner a hand grabbed her wrist and shoved her against the brick wall. The concrete dug into her sweater scraping the cotton-blend while his legs wrapped around hers, locking her in place.  She bucked against his grip, struggling for leverage. The movement made him tightened his hold.

Buffy growled in frustration and looked up through the strands of her pink streaked hair. He stood close enough that if he breathed, she could smell his alcohol-laden breath. The only weapon upon her person was tucked away, leaving only her head in a position of power. A quick head-butt would stun him long enough to push him away, but would also give her one hell of a headache. God knew both of them were as hard headed as it came.

Refusing to give up, she summoned her outrage. "Get your damn hands off me."

"Don't think so. Not until you tell me why you're running," he bit out.

She wrestled with his hands, purposely ignoring his question.

"Damn it. Talk to me." His voice broke, pain slipping out between them.

All of the fight in her ceased, and she stopped struggling against him. The sting of his words pulled her gaze up to bright blue orbs shining with pain and confusion. His jaw ticked as he visibly tried to rein in his emotion.

The sight puzzled her.

Only once could she remember Spike looking so sad, so defeated. Then it was Drusilla leaving him. Now it was about her?

Did she really have that much power over him? For the life of her, she never thought what he felt was anything but obsession or a sense of conquest. After all, he'd been known for slayers. How was she any different? Sure, he may not be able to kill her, but that didn't mean he couldn't get to her in another way. Mind games were just as deadly.

Still that wasn't his M.O. Too impatient.

"How could you?" Her voice came out a squeak.

Perplexed, he pulled back. "I don't understand."

"How could you make me trust you, then turn around and tell Dawn? How could you betray me?"

He took an unneeded breath, looking up at the night sky and released it. He leveled his sight with hers, peering into her eyes like he was searching for something. Like he could make her understand with the simple gaze of his eyes.

"I did what I had to," he said, his voice sharp. "Knew I couldn't leave you behind after what I saw in that bloody crypt. So in my place I sent Dawn." Sweeping a strand of hair out of her face, he tucked it behind her ear. The gesture softened his tone. "Didn't mean to tell her. Lil' Bit's too smart not to pick up on the serious. So when she pushed, I told her. Explained to her why it was so important to be with you. The girl's strong enough to handle it."

"That doesn't excuse what you did," she shouted. "You had no right to charge into my home and wake up my little sister and drop my shit on her lap. She is strong. Yeah, I know that. But that doesn't mean that she should have to deal with any of this. She should be carefree like any other teenager."

He snorted. "Too bad, luv. She's the Slayer's sister and the soddin' key. Do you think that comes with a normal upbringing? Don't lie to yourself and give me some bit of it not mattering. You know it does."

"Maybe so but that doesn't mean that I should shove it in her face, and force this on her."

"You're not forcing anything. That girl loves you, looks up to you. She would do anything for you. But while you're making excuses and trying to protect her, she's watching. Noticing everything around her. You aren't foolin' anyone."

The statement embarrassed the self-righteous protector in her before fading into a look of indifference. The look didn't go unnoticed.

"Oh, you didn't realize? Big surprise there. You think you're saving her by hiding the world from her, but all you're doing is making her vulnerable and pushing her away. Is that what you want? To push her away."

"No, but-"

"No excuses. You either do or you don't."

She stiffened, unsure of what to say. If he hadn't confided in Dawn about the fight with the ender, Buffy wouldn't have spilled and told her about the loss of heaven. The guilt of what she was feeling, the thoughts that coursed through her heavy head was not something she wished to share with anyone. It was a burden that she should carry, and her alone.

Spike studied her internal struggle, and a short laugh escaped his lips. He shook his head. "You can't help yourself, can you?"

Worried green eyes stared back at him.

"You're addicted to the misery. It's why you won't talk to your pals or your watcher about where you were. Might actually have to move on with your life, if you did. They'd either step up and make amends and help you through or continue down the River Nile like happy little Scoobies. Either way, you'd be better off. But you're too twisted for that."

He released his hold and took a step back.

"Me? I'm twisted!" Buffy's heart thumped in her chest, her hands shaking.

"If the shoe fits, Cinderella."

"Take a look in the mirror, you idiot." She gasped, and held her hand to her mouth and mocked him with fake shock. "No wait, you can't."

"Don't need one to know who I am, Slayer. Even after the soddin' government shoved a piece of tin in my head, and took away from me everything I was as a vampire. I figured out how to keep my place in the darkness. I learned to adapt.

He flew at her in one swift motion and her breath caught in her throat as he pushed her against the wall.

A fire burned in her belly, spurring her to act in a violent burst of fists and kicks. Her mind thought differently, coherent thought almost impossible once she gazed into the fury and lust radiating from his eyes. A desire to touch his face compelled her forward, a few inches between them.

"Where do you fit in? Are you afraid to give life a chance? Or are you-"

Buffy grabbed his face and crushed her lips into his. A moan escaped her as his hands gripped her hips, roaming dangerously low. It had been so long since she'd felt anything like this, a spark igniting with each caress, each rub. She poured everything she was into the kiss. All the buried bent up frustration flowed out of her, finally making its escape.

His tongue briefly caressed her warm lips, coaxing her until she answered and twined hers around his. Their desire burned with each stroke, her heart pounding in her chest. She pulled away for a moment to pull air into her stinging lungs before plunging back into him with animalist hunger. Everything inside her flickered with lust. Seeking him like a beacon to make everything disappear with his knowing touch.

She took everything he offered, all while knowing she wanted it all along.