Her Childer
For the first time since she had lost her Slayer abilities and become a
normal young woman, Faith regretted her choice, regretted her long gone
strength, the tingles down her spine, the faster than fast reflexes.
She regretted all of it, because, for the first time, she needed not to
be normal. Tingles down her spine would have warned her immediately,
fast reflexes would have allowed her to jump back even if she had made
the mistake of coming out of the house, and strength… strength would have
allowed to break free of his arms when he realized she knew.
“Don’t hurt her. You really don’t want to annoy our lady, believe me on that.”
Tom – no, that wasn’t Tom anymore, she couldn’t let herself think of him like that – the vampire
shifted his hold on her, twisting her arms in her back and standing
behind her even as she tried to struggle free. All he did was laugh at
her pitiful attempts, and tears sprung to her eyes at the familiar,
loved laugh now sounding so hollow and cold. She fought them back,
refusing to give in. She wasn’t a Slayer now, but she had been one, she
knew of vampires, knew how to kill them, knew the moves even if she
didn’t have the needed strength to make them effective right now. Her
time would come, though. It would. It had to.
As she tried to talk herself into calming down not to ruin whatever
chances she may have, she didn’t notice that the man who had advised
To… her captor not to hurt her was approaching, until he stood right in
front of her. She raised her head defiantly, unwilling to let him think
she was bowing to him, and he chuckled softly.
“Yes, I can see the attraction. She must have been really something, when she was still a Slayer.”
“Will you let me keep her?” came the almost growled request from behind her. “Please, Sire?”
The vamp in front of her clucked his tongue in disapproval even as he shot a warning glance above her shoulder.
“It is not for you to ask such a thing,” he said icily, the pleasant
tone now forgotten. “She belongs to the High Mistress, and if you even
suggest otherwise again you will be dust the next second.”
“I… I am sorry, master, it will not happen again, I swear it won’t.”
She had wanted to cry at his laugh. She now wanted to howl at hearing
this creature, once her so proud and strong husband, reduced to… to
what? A cowering minion, probably only sired because he could be useful
to get to her. He had been killed because of her.
This time, she couldn’t fight back the tears, and dropped her head as
sobs rocked her body. The vampire behind her, who, when alive, had held
her so often when she had nightmares, offered no comfort. The one in
front of her put a finger under her chin and tilted her head up again.
He was smiling, an utterly charming smile, and she wanted to fight once
more, break away from this single finger still lingering on her chin,
but she couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, couldn’t think. All she could do
was fall into his gaze.
“Will you play nice if he lets go of your arms?” he asked in a sensual whisper.
She tried to nod, but found that she couldn’t, so she managed to
articulate a raspy “yes”. His eyes didn’t leave hers, but he clapped
his fingers, and suddenly she was free. But she could not move anymore
now than she could before.
“Is your daughter inside, Faith?”
Something in her struggled, tried to push past the cotton that seemed
to have dulled her senses so that she was aware of nothing but him. But
even as she tried to lie, tried to understand why she even felt like
lying to him, her lips already were letting the truth escape.
“Yes. Inside. Sleeping.”
His smile widened a little, and the finger on her chin moved to stroke
her cheek. All thoughts of resistance disappeared, and her world again
was nothing but his finger, his lips, his eyes, his words.
“I want you to go get your daughter… what is her name again?”
“Sandra.”
“Of course. Sandra. You will walk into this house and go get Sandra for
me, will you? We are all going on a little trip. Take everything you
need for her. My lady does not tolerate children very much, I am
afraid, and we will have to keep Sandra happy and quiet until she is
needed. You understand?”
“Yes. I understand.”
He withdrew his hand from her face, and she took this as her cue to do
as he had said. Eager to please, she turned and promptly walked to the
house, completely oblivious to Tom’s presence as she walked past him.
Walking their prisoner toward the mansion was not an easy feat. They
had bound her wrists, gagged her, Felicia and Buffy were each holding
one of her arms as the others walked around them and kept ready for a
possible attack, but she still struggled and tried to escape every few
steps. After a while, Buffy lost her patience completely. With her hand
to the woman’s throat, she held her up, so that her neck was strained,
and growled:
“I’m tired of your games. Either you stop playing now, or we will see
how hard you struggle once there isn’t a drop of blood left in you.”
With Felicia’s startled gasp, she realized she was in game face,
although she had not shifted consciously. At that instant, though, with
pure annoyance coursing through her, she didn’t really care. And she
meant every word of her threat.
It was a surprise to see the woman’s eyes widen even as they shifted
toward Spike. The look confused Buffy, she had thought they knew she
was a vampire… So why was she surprised, now? The answer came as Spike
stepped next to Buffy, and said very low to their prisoner:
“Yes, she does mean that. She doesn’t know the first thing about the
lore, and she would do it without a second thought. So now you know
exactly where you stand.”
His lips brushed against her temple, and he returned to his place in
the circle around the two Slayers and their captive. Captive who was
presently nodding, and there was now a definite glint of fear in her
eyes. Even as she released her hold on her throat and motioned for the
group to start walking again, Buffy’s annoyance didn’t disappear. On
the contrary, it grew. What was it that had passed between Spike and
that vamp? What was it in the lore that she didn’t know but that was
obviously so important? It was at least a small consolation that the
woman was now walking without struggling.
The next obstacle came as the group reached the invisible barrier that
protected the mansion. They needed to invite her by name so that she
could pass through, but even as Willow reminded Giles of the fact, a
hint of laughter in their captive’s eyes informed Buffy that she was
not going to give them her name easily. Even as the Watchers and
Witches started discussing whether to lift the spell and reinstate it
or what other option they had, Buffy decided to take the matter in her
own hands. She was about to do a repeat performance and threaten her
again when Spike’s hand closed around her wrist.
“It won’t work twice, luv,” he said softly, as if for her ears only,
before turning to the others and saying with a slight twinge of
impatience: “Her name’s Ada. Now invite her in and let’s get this
bloody show on the road. I want to be home before sunrise.”
A few words from Giles, and Ada could now be walked to the
mansion. Curious eyes turned to Spike, except for Buffy’s, which,
golden, reflected more jealousy than curiosity.
“I’ve met a lot of people, in a hundred years,” he said, sounding both amused and annoyed, and did not elaborate.
As the group walked inside and went straight toward the cellar’s
staircase as previously decided, Buffy stopped Spike with a hand on his
arm just before he passed the threshold, and closed the door to give
them a little privacy for an instant.
“Did you fuck her?” she asked shortly.
His surprise was as obvious as his displeasure.
“What the hell…”
“It’s a simple question, Spike. Did you or did you not fuck Ada? I want to know. Now.”
For a few long seconds, he simply watched her, his expression
unreadable. When he finally spoke, it was with a question of his own.
“Did you shift on purpose?”
In the brief period of time she took to decide what to reply to that, he seemed to find his answer on her features.
“It’s the third time, then. And apparently you’re getting more aggressive each time. Can you shift out?”
His too controlled tone renewed her irritation.
“Don’t try to change the topic. I asked you if you fucked her, I still want an answer.”
“And why do you want to know, Buffy? What does it matter what I did or did not do almost a hundred years before I met you?”
“You’re mine!” she hissed, taking a step closer to him.
He nodded. “Yours. Very true. Your Mate, and as such, you should know that no one exists for me apart from you. But also your Sire...”
His voice took a harsh tone, and Buffy flinched.
“… and I will not be questioned by you. Now shift out of game face and try to get a grip.”
As unconsciously as she had assumed the mask, she let it go, and was
almost surprised to realize that this time it hadn’t been difficult at
all. At the same time as the demon receded, she felt her anger fading
as well. Spike’s features softened slightly, and he cupped her face in
his hands.
“Buffy, luv,” he murmured, “remember what your Watcher said. You have
to find a balance between the Slayer and the demon. Leaving too much
control to the demon is just as bad as not giving it enough. It’s not you.”
Her throat tightened as she realized how she had acted since they had
captured Ada, and she could only nod to indicate that she understood.
He sighed, then, and pulled her into his arms. She accepted the
embrace, and closed her eyes, trying, for just an instant, not to think
of anything but him.
“For the record,” he said just next to her ear, “I did not sleep with her. We met, that was all.”
“But you still remember her name,” Buffy protested weakly. “How many years ago was it that you still remember her?”
Once more, he sighed, but his voice remained cool even as repeated his earlier words:
“I will not be questioned by you, Buffy. Maybe some day I will tell you
how and when we met, and why I remember her name, as well as the names
of all that were present that night. But not now.”
She replied nothing to that, simply because she had no answer that
wouldn’t displease him, and it seemed like a bad idea to irritate him
now. After a second, he suggested:
“How about we go and see if she told them anything yet?”
Still pressing a handkerchief to Andrea’s slightly bleeding forehead,
Giles glanced toward the staircase, where the two vampires were now
appearing.
“Where were you?” he asked, more harshly than he meant to. “It’s really not the time to disappear without warning.”
They both looked in surprise at the mess around them. A shelf that had
been against the wall now lay on the floor, broken. Felicia was
applying pressure to her arm, some blood staining her fingers and
shirt. Willow and Tara, hands linked, were chanting together, their
eyes focused on Ada, that Manon, covered in dust, was currently tying
up to a chair.
“What happened?” Buffy asked, alarmed.
“Our guest took advantage of the fact that we took off her gag to show
us she knows some magic too. We could have used a couple more hands.”
His tone was cool, almost cold, and Buffy seemed a little flustered. Spike however merely looked surprised.
“So, she learned magic, huh? That’s interesting. And that makes her
even more precious. That’s one less weapon for her Sire to use.”
The blonde vamp shifted his gaze to their captive, who was looking back
at him without flinching, and a very disturbing smile settled on his
lips as he continued:
“Because you’re still following her orders, aren’t you, Ada? I’ve not
really kept up to date with what’s going on in the families, but I’m
sure I would have heard about it if she had been dusted.”
Gagged again, Ada did not move or indicate in any way what she thought.
Giles caught Spike’s eyes and gave him a questioning look, but the
vampire merely shook his head.
“I’ll fill you in later, but it’s not much. Especially when she’s right here and we just need to get the information we want.”
“And since we obviously can’t trust her to let her speak,” Andrea said
dryly, glancing at the now completely bound vampire, “we’ll just resort
to plan B. You’re ready, ladies?”
Willow and Tara exchange a quick look before nodding their readiness.
They had made it clear that they would only do this if there was no
other way, as neither of them was comfortable with the idea of invading
someone’s mind to get information, even an enemy’s mind.
Hands still linked, Tara closed her eyes while at the same time Willow
reached out with her free hand to touch Ada’s temple. The vampire tried
to move away, but, restrained as she was, couldn’t escape. A flash of
shock ran through her features, and the next second she had shifted to
game face and closed her eyes. Willow pulled back her hand as if she
had been burnt.
“She closed herself off,” she announced warily. “I just had time to see a couple of images, but nothing very clear.”
“Try again!” Felicia intervened abruptly.
Tara shook her head. “Not now. We’re too tired, and she’s too strong.”
“What did you see, Will?” Buffy asked anxiously.
The redhead glanced at Ada before looking back toward the others.
“Chloe, for one thing. I think… I think she killed Chloe.”
Instinctively, Giles turned his eyes to Buffy. Her face radiated pure
anger, and without Spike’s arm at her waist, she would probably have
dusted Ada already. Surprisingly enough, there was the same outrage in
Manon’s eyes, and Giles grabbed her arm and pulled her a little further
from their captive.
“Who is Chloe?” Felicia asked, sounding confused, but no one answered her.
“Anything else?” Andrea asked Willow.
“A few imprecise images. I think it’s the place where she lives. Not
enough to tell me where it is, though. And one last thing. Some kind
of… I don’t know. A piece of jewelry, I think. She was holding it,
looking at it, and it felt… powerful.”
Ada’s eyes opened abruptly, and she looked at Willow with renewed
intensity. That had to be important, if it brought such a response from
her.
“Can you describe it?” he urged her. “Or maybe draw it for us?”
“I can try.”
Giles and Andrea produced at the same time from their pockets slim
notepads and pencils, earning for that amused looks from the Wiccas.
Willow accepted the items and started drawing. She was no artist, but
as he looked at the result of her efforts, Giles had no trouble
recognizing the pendant. He didn’t know what surprised him most. That
this particular bauble would turn up in the hands of vampires only
three years after the Council had used it as payment for information
about Buffy’s soul, or that Andrea, who had obviously recognized it
too, would react with a curse he had never heard in her mouth – he had
actually never heard her curse as far as he could remember.
“Bloody hell…”
He could only agree with her assessment of the situation.
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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.
