Predatory Acts
by Jane Davitt

Chapter 5

Xander stood as still as if the hand lazily tickling him was a tarantula. Huskily, his voice emerging in a tense whisper, he said, “Back off.”

The hand continued to roam, the arm around his neck tightened. Xander closed his eyes and prepared to die. He’d have to fight first of course, but he didn’t have much doubt about the outcome. Before a strategy could even form in his mind, Spike delicately nipped at his neck and he moaned softly, goose bumps springing up on that side of his body. Spike chuckled, satisfied, and released him. “Still fancy me then. Good. It’ll make it easier on you.”

Xander turned around and glared at Spike. “I’m not even going to ask what you mean by that because it’s disturbing enough without the details.”

Spike considered him for a moment, standing relaxed with his hands in his coat pockets, just a friendly neighborhood vampire out for a stroll. “Does this mean it’s all over between us now you’re human again? I’m deeply hurt.”

Xander felt his hands curl into fists, nails digging deeply into his palms. “You seem to know I’m not possessed anymore. You can’t think I’m still interested in doing anything but stake you.” Spike’s eyebrows rose in an eloquent commentary on just how that could be interpreted and Xander flushed. “With a wooden stake. Through the heart. So you turn to dust,” he clarified.

Spike pouted, the full lower lip pushing out. He looked wistful but his eyes were full of deviltry, brimming over with mockery. “That how you treat all your dates? No wonder you were so...pure.”

Xander’s fist lashed out and swept through air. Spike had simply faded backwards, avoiding the blow easily. Xander stumbled and caught his foot, falling forward. Spike let him fall, looking down at the sprawled figure with detached amusement. He didn’t offer Xander a hand this time and Xander struggled to his feet, rubbing a bruised knee with a grazed hand.

Spike’s nostrils flared and Xander found himself wondering if the vampire could tell that his palms were bleeding slightly. That was creepy.

“I’m leaving town tomorrow night,” Spike said abruptly. “Got what I came for and I’m going back to get Dru ready for the journey.”

Despite himself, Xander was curious. He remembered Spike rambling on about his girlfriend being sick but to his possessed mind it had seemed unimportant and he’d tuned out a lot of it. “You’ve got some medicine or something?”

Spike shrugged. “Not exactly. Got a few leads on what she’ll need but nothing definite yet. No, what I really wanted was to know I could bring her here safely. Seems she’ll heal better here. Might be all she needs. A holiday on the Hellmouth.” His voice broke slightly as he mentioned Drusilla but he recovered his poise at once. “The Master can be a funny bugger sometimes. Took a bit of slaughter to get him smiling but I can be very charming when I want.” He smiled at Xander, inviting agreement. “Can’t I?”

Xander swallowed. Spike’s voice was affecting him as much as it had done before. Images flashed through his mind: pale limbs splayed out against the dark blue sheets, blue eyes misted over with tears, a damp towel rubbing fleeting warmth into a cool body... “Yes,” he said honestly. “But I’m guessing ninety percent of the time you can’t be bothered.”

Spike grinned. “Maybe. Aren’t you curious who I slaughtered?”

Sickness spread through Xander and any arousal he’d felt fled in the face of the reminder that he had shared more than sex with Spike. They’d done lunch.

Spike cocked his head to the side, watching the emotions flicker over Xander’s face like cloud shadows over grass. “Might have been your hyena pals. They left enough scent behind in my room for me to know them, track them down.” Xander’s eyes flickered with a shamed relief. His four pack mates hadn’t been in school but he’d assumed the police had them. That was one of the first lessons you learned in Sunnydale. You didn’t talk about the ones who went missing. Did he want them to be dead so that no one would find out that he could remember what happened? Was he really that selfish? “Or it could have been one of your other friends.”

Xander stepped forward and shoved Spike roughly. “Tell me. Stop playing games.”

Spike laughed at him. “Don’t worry, they were minions. Thinned the herd a bit. Did him a favour. He gets bored of the same old faces. Unless they’re as good looking as mine, of course.”

“You really do think you’re something, don’t you?”

“Yes.” The word ‘duh’ hung unspoken in the air.

Silence fell and Xander wondered what to do. Back away slowly and run home, where he’d be safe? He frantically tried to remember if he’d ever said anything to Spike that qualified as an invitation home. “So - you’re happy, I’m human again, let’s just forget you played with your food and I promise never to mention it either.”

Spike studied him. “You can’t forget it, can you?” he said quietly.

“Well, it’s only been a day. I think parts are fading though. In fact there’s one school of thought that says you lose all memories of times when you’re possessed. I think it’s worth considering, taking on board-”

“No. You don’t forget your first taste of blood. Ever.”

Xander looked at him. A car went by, the engine noise fading away and leaving them locked in silence again on the empty street. “It’s not the blood I’m having trouble forgetting,” he said, the words pulled from him.

Spike’s eyes widened. “Go on,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring. It had the opposite effect. Xander felt bewildered at the sudden change from flippancy to sympathy and was about to take refuge in a joke when he saw the tension along the line of Spike’ jaw. The vampire was nervous?

“What we did was, I mean it wasn’t what I expected. I like girls. I’m not –”

“Oh, spare me!” Spike said. “Do I look like a therapist or a friendly bloody ear?”

“No.”

“What do I look like?” Spike demanded, grabbing Xander and pulling him towards him in one violent, possessive movement.

Xander was so close he couldn’t see anything but Spike’s eyes. With a doomed feeling, he told the truth again. It was getting to be a really bad habit. It brought him nothing but trouble. “My worst nightmare.”

Spike chuckled. “That’ll do.”

He didn’t even have to move to kiss Xander. Somehow the gap between their lips was so small that when Xander opened his lips to reply, he brushed against Spike’s mouth. Instant lust. Knee buckling, intense, crippling lust. Xander felt it pour over him as though someone had a bucket of the stuff poised above his head. His brain was drenched in it, losing all ability to think coherently. His hands were soaked in it, grabbing at clothing, pulling and tugging, trying to reach that cool, hard body. His cock got what was left, absorbing it, springing to life, quivering and eager.

Spike pulled back his head, hissing with frustration. “Why is it always outside when you come on to me?”

Xander felt the exhilaration recede and sanity creep in. Spike saw his expression change and shook his head. “No. Not again. You come with me and we finish this tonight.”

“I can’t. Not with you. Not with a vampire.”

Spike’s hand reached down between them and caressed Xander’s erection. “Want to have regrets for something you did instead of something you missed?”

“Prefer to have no regrets at all, really,” Xander gasped.

“I can do that too,” Spike said casually.

“Huh?” Spike moved away a little and hauled something small and glittery out of his pocket. It looked like a silver marble. “What’s that?”

“Memory charm. Set for me. Got it today from someone who owes me from the last time I was in town.”

Xander frowned, intrigued. “What does it do?” he asked.

Spike smiled slowly, watching Xander’s face for a hint of his feelings. “Once it’s activated it’ll wipe out any memory of me. You’ll lose from the time we met in the alley to when you left the room and from just now to whenever we’re finished.”

Xander shook his head. “That’s impossible,” he said, certainty in his voice.

“No, just magic. Pretty fancy magic though. A memory spell - that’s simple. Specific memories though - that’s harder. Cost me.”

“You said you called in a favour.” Xander objected.

Spike pushed up the sleeve on his coat, exposing a curved symbol carved deeply into the flesh. “The spell needed to know who I was to work,” he explained. “Needed my blood.”

Xander shuddered. Even for a vampire that had to have hurt. His thoughts raced. He was tempted by Spike – no point in denying that - and his hyena experiences were too close for him not to feel drawn to gratifying his desires rather than ignoring them. The thought of losing the memory of feeding on human flesh was a definite plus. He stood thinking as Spike sighed impatiently and then nodded, not meeting the vampire’s eyes. “I’ll do it.”

The words slipped out easily, catching him by surprise. He seemed to have lost his caution and his fear of consequences. He wondered if the spell to reverse the possession had really worked. This wasn’t like him. He was Xander, vampire hater. It was burned into him the first time he’d seen one of the creatures and seen what they could do. They were cockroaches and he was friends with the exterminator.

Then he looked at the vampire in front of him and the scared hatred fell away, leaving only the fascination and the hungry desire.

Spike tossed him the charm. “Here. You keep it. Just need to activate it when you’ve had enough and I’m out of sight.”

Xander looked at him in surprise. He’d expected Spike to hold on to it as a way of keeping him under his control. Then he remembered how Spike had stopped himself in the bathroom. The memory steadied him. He didn’t trust the vampire, not really, but he didn’t fear him either. Maybe that wasn’t a good thing.

“Activate it how?”

“Swallow it.”

“I’m not swallowing it! It could be poison or something,” Xander protested.

Spike grinned. “Don’t worry. I had them make it cherry flavour just for you.”

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