A Childe’s Punishment
They had fallen in an ambush, that much was clear to Spike. That many
demons, no more than two of the same species, coming across them all at
once, most of them bearing weapons? Ambush. No doubt there. Had he had
a little more time to think, he would have started to reflect on how
this piece fit – or did not fit – in the puzzle of everything that had
been going on lately. As it was, all his attention was needed, both not
to get staked and keep an eye on the two Slayers fighting alongside
him.
They had killed four demons, already, but there were twice as many
left. He was OK, except for a long but shallow cut across his thigh.
Manon seemed to be using her right arm less effectively than she should
have – and Spike remembered the deep slash on the inside of her arm. It
probably wasn’t completely healed yet. Buffy was fine, as far as he
could tell, although a bit below her usual standards too, which he
attributed to the battle that was going on inside her. She had shifted
to game face at some point during the fight, as he had, but he wasn’t
worried about that. Her vampire status wasn’t a secret anymore, and her
reflexes were always just a tad better when she used the demon’s
resources – an advantage they most certainly could use right now. With
both women not fighting their best, and no weapon except for a long
knife Buffy had scavenged from a slain demon, this was going to be a
hard fight. He was about to suggest a strategic retreat, when things
only got a little worse. A dozen vamps rushed into the battle.
He started swearing, and searching frantically for the stake he had
dropped earlier because it wasn’t effective on his opponent’s too tough
skin. And then…
Then he realized, amazed, that the vamps weren’t attacking him or the
two Slayers. Instead, they were after the demons they had been
fighting. Both Buffy and Manon seemed to realize at the same time he
did what was going on, and he drew them to the side, out of harm’s way.
The vampires were armed, and after only a couple of minutes, three more
demons were already on the ground, while the others looked ready to
give up the fight and run away.
“Why are they helping us?” Manon asked, slightly out of breath.
Spike noticed then, amongst their rescuers, a couple of faces he had
seen before. It took him a second to remember where exactly he had come
across them. And less than a second more to decide that it was probably
a good idea to leave. Because these two vamps he recognized had been
among the few that had attacked him and Clem in that bar, what seemed
like an eternity ago, and promised to bring hell on him and his Childe.
“I don’t think we want to find out why they are helping,” he answered
Manon’s question even as he kept a careful watch on the fight. “Let’s
get out of here.”
Both he and Manon took a step back, but Buffy grabbed his arm and pointed to something on the other side of the battlefield.
“Look. Is that their chief?”
Even as Spike looked at the man she was pointing at, who, like them,
was watching the fight between demons and vampires without
participating himself, he saw from the corner of his eye Manon jerking
back.
“Let’s go,” she said, almost pleading. “Now!”
Without waiting for them, she started running, and after a few seconds
they had caught up with her by the cemetery’s gates. She seemed
extremely pale. And scared.
“What’s wrong?” Buffy asked her, having apparently also noticed her sudden fright.
It took a long instant for Manon to be able to answer.
“That… that was the same vamp that attacked me in France. The one who was giving orders to the others.”
“Are you sure?” Spike couldn’t help asking. “It was dark, maybe…”
“I am sure.”
Her voice left no place for doubt, and she didn’t add anything more.
All three of them fell silent, each wondering why a vampire who had
tried to kill Manon a few night before would now come to her rescue.
As they came out of the cemetery, Spike shifted back to his human
visage, touching Buffy’s arm to catch her attention and incite her to
do the same. She frowned for a second, and brought a hand to her face,
as if to check what features she was presenting to the world at that
instant. Spike could only stare as she seemingly struggled to push the
game mask back.
“You didn’t shift on purpose?” he asked in a whisper.
The way she avoided looking at him was answer enough, and did nothing to appease his concern.
Revello was closer than the mansion, so they directed their steps
toward the house, with the unspoken thought that they needed weapons as
soon as possible. No one was following them, Spike was sure of that,
but he would feel a lot better with an axe in hand. He would feel
better, also, if he managed to calm his nerves by killing a few demons
before the end of the night.
All the way home, one thought obsessed Buffy. Not worry about why they
had been ambushed by these random demons. Not questions about why
vampires, including one who had tried to kill Manon before and had
followed her here, had taken their side in the fight. No, what occupied
her mind was of a more personal nature. For the second time in a few
days, she had shifted to game face without being aware of it until
someone pointed it out to her. She tried to focus on the positive
point, which was that she hadn’t needed to drink blood to shift back
this time, but she couldn’t help feeling distressed by her lack of
control.
Another surprise was waiting for them as they reached Revello drive.
Faith informed them that Angel had called, apparently quite upset, to
warn them that a contract had been placed on Buffy’s head and that they
ought to be even more careful than usual. Cursing loudly, and getting
for his trouble a stern warning from Faith that her daughter was asleep
and he had much rather not wake her, Spike called back the Hyperion.
Buffy tried to pay attention to what he was saying, but she was still
too bothered by what had happened earlier, and it was hard for her to
concentrate on anything.
“Buffy? Are you alright?”
She blinked and looked at Manon, who had picked up a short sword and a couple of stakes in the weapons chest.
“You look a little… upset,” the young woman insisted as Buffy still wasn’t answering.
The concern she heard in the kid’s voice – no, she wasn’t really a kid
anymore – sobered Buffy quite effectively. The young Slayer was the one
who should have been rattled, after coming face to face with her
would-be murderer, and yet she was worrying about her elder, while she
didn’t know that anything was indeed wrong with her.
“I’m fine,” she lied. “Just thinking.”
Manon threw a glance toward Spike, who was now dialing a new number, before turning a troubled gaze to Buffy.
“I had something to tell you,” she whispered with another glance in
Spike’s direction. “I had a Slayer dream last night. I thought I should
tell you rather than the others, because it’s about you.”
Buffy nodded even as she felt her throat constrict. “What did you see?”
“You. But three of you. All the same, all of them Buffy, but… I don’t know how to explain it, they felt different…"
“Different how?” Buffy asked, and already she didn’t like the sound of this dream.
“It was just an impression… they looked exactly the same, but I could
pick them apart easily because they were just… different. I have no
other word for it. They were all fighting against each other. I think
they were trying to kill each other. And then Spike was there, and… I’m
not sure what happened, it looked like he was becoming you, but then
the three you’s disappeared and it was just him left.”
There was more than worry in the woman’s voice, now. There was fear.
“Do you understand what it means?”
Buffy frowned thoughtfully, and looked toward the kitchen where Spike
was putting down the phone. If she understood what the dream was
supposed to mean, Spike was the key to reconciling all the pieces of
the puzzle that made her who she was. It comforted her in some way, and
strengthened her resolve to keep trying to follow the path he had laid
out for them. Even if it was far from easy.
“I think I do. And you were right, no one needs to know about this but me.”
Spike was always suspicious of Slayer dreams, as he somehow associated
them to the Powers That Be, so it was probably better not to alarm him
further. Manon nodded her understanding. Spike joined them, then, and
explained that they needed to wait for Willow and Tara to come by, as
he had just asked them to place a spell on the house that would repel
all demons, like they had done at the mansion. While they waited, he
explained to them exactly what Angel had said, and Buffy almost wanted
to laugh at the thought that, only a few minutes before, the suddenly
insignificant thing that was her inability to control her demon visage
had upset her so much.
“Alright,” Giles said with a sigh as he pinched the bridge on his nose
between his thumb and forefinger. “Let me make sure I got that right.
An evil law firm in L.A. placed a killing order on Buffy, supposedly
because her being dusted would in some way prevent the extinction of
the Slayer line. Slayer line that, or so we can hope, doesn’t exactly
fight on the same side as that firm does, but said firm is apparently
convinced that to have a Slayer in this world is necessary for its
plans. So tonight you three were attacked by a bunch of demons we
suppose were bounty hunters, and, that’s my favorite part, you received
the help of some unnamed vampires that both Spike and Manon identified
as being enemies. Is that all of it?”
The two vamps and the Slayer all nodded, and Giles couldn’t stifle
another sigh. It was almost humorous that, after a few years away from
Sunnydale, he had forgotten how bizarre things could get on the
Hellmouth.
The High Mistress was staring at him, and Orion didn’t like at all that
look in her golden eyes. He had seen it directed at others before, many
times, and a few times at himself, and it never, ever, meant anything
good. Quite the contrary. She had been more than a little upset by his
failure in France, but surprisingly had offered him a second chance as
he had reached Sunnydale. And now, this second chance had been wasted
because the damn Slayers had been…
“Attacked? By a dozen demons?”
“Yes, my lady,” he murmured, bowing his head. “I interrogated the last
one before we killed him, and apparently someone is offering half a
million dollars for Buffy Summers’ ashes.”
For long minutes, he remained on one knee as she paced around the room.
Orion couldn’t help but throw annoyed glances at his Sire’s other two
Childer, who had both been allowed to sit while he, the oldest of them,
was expected to kneel. And not just kneel, but kneel in front of the
assembled minions. He had been away for too long, he thought bitterly.
What had been supposed to be a reward, a token of his Sire’s trust in
him, had turned out like a very bad deal in the end, as it allowed both
Sylvyan and Ada to gain some influence in his absence. But he fully
intended to regain what was his in the best delays – including access
to the High Mistress’ bed. Although the admission that he considered
anything related to her as his would have been dangerous to say the
least, and he wouldn’t have voiced it for all the blood in the world.
“You did well,” his Sire finally enunciated, as if pronouncing a
judgment. “If these demons had harmed or killed either of them, our
plans would have been reduced to nothing. So you made the right
decision by helping them tonight.”
Orion glanced up, smiling, but the relieved grin disappeared when he met his Sire’s cold gaze.
“However,” she continued icily, “you should have taken the opportunity
to capture both Summers and the French girl. And instead, you allowed
them to leave without even going after them.”
Orion gritted his teeth as his eyes dropped to the floor. He had
explained to her, already, that it had been impossible to fight the
demons and do something about their prey at the same time. But he knew
from experience that it was useless to try to change her mind now, in
front of everyone.
“Ada, you shall hunt tomorrow night, and I dare hope, for your own
good, that you will have better results. Sylvyan, you will use your new
pet, and I also expect you to bring me back what I want.”
Both of them nodded gravely, but neither moved as the High Mistress opened the door to her bedroom.
“Orion, my dear, I think it is time to discuss your punishment.”
She didn’t even look back at him, didn’t wait to see if he would follow
her. She didn’t have to. She knew perfectly well he would obey her
without a pause. Even if he knew with just as much certainty that the
next few hours would be very long and very painful for him.
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The characters and names used in these stories do not belong to me. All copyrights remain with Fox and Mutant Enemy. No profit is made from this fanfiction.