Chapter 32

Xander was on his knees in the middle of Spike’s bedroom. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, searching for the soothing rhythm that would allow him to sink into meditation and quiet his screaming mind. After Jase’s arrival, Xander, Buffy and Angel had torn out of the Summers’ house, searching for Spike. They’d wandered Sunnydale, relying on Angel’s inherent sense of his childer to lead them to Dru’s lair. Unfortunately, the rising sun had chased them away before they had any clear idea of her location. Dawn had insisted that they get some rest while she sent teams of potentials out to search in the daylight. Cordelia, Brooks and Oz had arrived shortly after daybreak, and Oz and Willow had driven an exhausted Xander back to Spike’s Victorian. Xander had stumbled into the bedroom and dropped to the floor, seeking peace the only way he knew how. Finally, he gave up and rose to his feet long enough to propel his body onto the bed. Once there, he gathered Spike’s pillow in his arms and allowed the tears to fall.

Across town, Spike hung limply from the chains that had been used to bind him to the wall of the warehouse. *Buggering fuck*, he thought, how do I get myself into this shit? Go to the store; protect Jase – it all sounded so simple. What a cosmic joke. The blazing headache from the tazer jolts was much too reminiscent of the pain from the unlamented fucking chip, and he was not in the mood for Drusilla and her newest childe. Her childe – *buggering fuck again* – only Drusilla would be insane enough to do what she apparently had done. Spike muttered a curse as his “little brother” entered the room. Riley fucking Finn – a vampire; FarmVamp. Jesus Christ. In his human face, Riley looked exactly like the bland, angsty prig who had stabbed Spike in the chest with a simulated wood-grain plastic stake so may years ago.

Awakening in chains with a splitting headache, just to have this wanker beat the shit out of him was not exactly Spike’s fondest memory to date. It seemed like little brother had some pent-up anger that he’d needed to work out, and Spike’s battered face and body bore testament to it. The son of a bitch was strong, and his military training gave him very precise, very painful insight in just how to cause the most damage. Spike had listened grimly as several of his ribs had broken under Riley’s fists, along with his nose and a couple of his fingers.

Riley stood at the back of the room and looked at Spike eagerly. Spike lifted his head. “What’s the matter, Soldier Boy? Can’t have any fun without orders from Mummy?” he taunted. Riley growled, but did not advance. Spike spit some blood out onto the floor and laughed harshly. “Are *you* the best she could do?” he asked. Riley vamped out and launched himself toward Spike. He stopped in his tracks when Dru stepped out of the shadows and barked, “No!” at him. She crossed her arms under her breasts and slowly walked toward Spike. Once she reached him, she lifted one hand to run her fingers over his bruised and swollen face. Dropping her hand from his lips, she stepped closer and tilted her head, bringing her neck to Spike’s mouth. She whispered into his ear, “Drink, childe. I don’t wish to look at you like this. Drink and be pretty for me, darling Spike.”

He turned his face away, and found her hand in his hair, wrenching his head around with unexpected strength. She shook his head sharply and pulled him back to her neck. “Do as I say, Spike. I haven’t time for your little games. You will find that I have learned how to deal with insolence since last we met.” Spike lifted his head and looked at Riley, who looked at the ground. He looked so much like a chastened puppy that Spike had to laugh. “Swat you on the nose with a rolled up newspaper, did she, Farm Boy?” he taunted, and found his head shaken roughly again for his trouble. “Ow! Dru,” he said mildly, “I’ve a bit of a headache if you don’t mind.” She tugged his hair again. Well, buggering fuck again, Spike thought, might as well. The sire’s blood would heal him, and he wasn’t exactly in fighting form as he was. He slid into game face and ripped into Drusilla’s throat with neither finesse nor care.

Her blood was hot and strong, and the taste exploded on his tongue with raw power. Spike moaned unconsciously into the torn flesh of her neck, drawing as hard as he could. Drusilla moaned in answer and pressed herself against his body, maneuvering her legs to straddle one of his, thrusting against his knee. He angled his hips, trying to get some friction on his instantly hard cock, but she was lost in her own pleasure. Spike heard her scream and felt her shudder against him. She leaned heavily on his body for a moment, and then pulled away, laughing.

Spike stared at her for a moment, stunned, then licked the blood off of his lips and smiled at her. He could feel his cuts closing and his ribs and nose knitting. He could also hear Riley growling and whining behind Drusilla. “Thanks, baby – I needed that,” he smirked, “was it good for you?” Another growl emanated from Riley. Spike threw him a sardonic look. “Do fuck off, puppy – the grownups need some alone time.” He brought his eyes back to Dru’s. “Come on, luv, let’s save the chains for another time. Let me loose and we can finish this little game.” He cocked his leg lewdly to emphasize his erection and leered at her. She closed the distance between them and pressed her hand against his hardness, rubbing him roughly through his jeans.

“You’d like me to believe it, wouldn’t you, Spike?” she hissed. “You’d like for me to fall for your lies and right back into your open arms, yes?” She squeezed his erection painfully, smiling when a gasp was wrenched from his lips. She did it again, and he groaned in pain. “Not likely, Spike. His scent is all over you. I’ll not forgive your indiscretion easily.” She released him and stepped back, smiling as he sagged against the chains. Riley stepped up behind Drusilla and wrapped his arms around her waist. He smiled at Spike over her shoulder and moaned as her hand slid behind her back and between his legs. Spike continued to look at the floor as Riley swept Dru into his arms and carried her to some other part of the warehouse. Shag her good, mate, he thought, I’m going to need some time to get out of these chains.

Xander, Willow, Oz, Cordelia, Brooks, Angel and Buffy sat in the living room at the Summers’ house and waited for the sun to set. The potentials had spent the day searching, and had determined the locations of a couple of warehouses that could be Drusilla’s lair. Once the sun was down Xander, Willow, Buffy and Angel would head for the most likely site; the potentials were already staking out the other. Cordelia, Brooks and Oz would stay at the house to guard Jase and Sara, with a group of potentials to give extra muscle.

Xander and Angel sat side by side on the couch with matching scowls. Periodically, they would exchange a few quiet words, but they did not speak to anyone else. Willow confided to Buffy that Xander hadn’t spoken more than five words to Oz and herself as they’d gotten ready and on the trip over. Buffy told her that Angel had been much the same. Each man was lost in his own thoughts of Spike.

Finally, darkness fell. Xander and Angel rose from their seats and strode to the door, weapons at the ready. Buffy and Willow followed.