Prologue
Erzsébet

There are those who still speak of Erzsébet Báthory in hushed voices.

Villagers who lived through the nightmare and survived, forever branded by horror, destined to carry the tale far into the future to ensure that it endured with a life of its own, beyond its telling as a mere tale. In truth, there was nothing simple about the stories uttered about the Countess, even when they were told by the older children seeking to frighten their younger siblings or by the old crones whose task it is was to pass on the history of the village. There are tales that are too dark to speak off despite their basis in fact, even though the old people still wake up in the night screaming in fear, whose eyes show the haunted memory of things no one should ever have to see. To them, she still lives even if she no longer walks among them as she once had.

The men who remember speak of her with less hostility than the women of the villages that once came under the provincial domain of Castle Csejthe and its masters. The men remember her differently of course. For it is the way of men to cloud their minds with fanciful exaggerations that hide their weaknesses where else with women, it is far simpler to speak the truth for it is always possible that the same evil could return. The men see her in their mind's eye as the loveliest creature that ever walked the earth. Some of the old still dream of her as she was on the day when she had been brought to the castle for the first time.

She had been but sixteen years old when she became the bride of Ferencz Nadasdy, the reigning Count of Castle Csejthe. As a daughter of the Hun Gutkeled clan whose power base stretched over much of Eastern Europe, the marriage had been extremely favourable for the Count whose interest in fighting Turks was now financed by Bathory money. With his grand and well-paid army, the Count left his youthful bride to her own devices and went forth to fight the Moslem scourge that was threatening much of Europe in those days. Erzsébet who had no taste in the crude lifestyle of her provincial existence was often seen riding about the winding paths around the castle, making every man who saw her sigh in dreamy desire.

Her beauty was not to be underestimated for it was renowned indeed. With alabaster skin possessing the texture of fine cream, it was said that hers was the face of an angel belonging to the body of a goddess. Yet there was nothing angelic about her for she was alone in her bed during her husband’s absences and her voracious appetite for sex was only equalled by her thirst for blood. She liked to watch people suffer and those who owed debts to her husband’s coffers would find just how agonizing it was to settle their accounts. While the men could only remember the beauty of the lady, the women remembered the screams.

And there was so many.

They stretched long into the night until children wept themselves to sleep in order to keep from hearing the pain that tore through the air and made the wolves howl at the moon in sympathy. At first, the bodies did not appear for she had been wise enough to hide them well. However, when there became so many that it was not possible to conceal them within the castle walls, then they were discarded in the river and too many people began to find loved ones whose flesh were stripped from their bones in death. There was nothing to be done about it of course for she was the Countess and those who had been killed were supplicants with good reason to be punished though preferably in a far more merciful end then what they had received.

For twenty years, she killed as many souls as her husband did during his war with the Turks. They died in more agony some believed then the quick thrust and parry of a wound received on the battlefield. Erzsébet liked to torture and after a time when it seemed that her beauty never seemed to wane. She looked as radiant as she had when she first arrived in their midst and though they could not understand how this could be, they could not deny it was true. She did not age. There were whispers that she was a witch and it was perfectly legitimate for she surrounded herself with those who practised the dark arts, though none of the lesser aristocracies dared make comment about her activities. Such remarks were often fatal.

The Countess was not a forgiving woman.

However it was when she fell into the company of a local woman named would be attached to hers forever in villainy, did she finally become more than just another bloodthirsty Magyar. Her legend began with her association with the woman called Majorova. The two seemed to feed off each other’s sadism and their hunger combined together was voracious as they embarked upon a course that would shake the foundations of Hungarian society to its core and demand the intervention of the Emperor himself. Yet no one, even in their wildest imagining could have predicted the scale of what the Countess and her evil companions would do.

There was always talk about witchery where the Countess was concerned but when the skies started opening up, when strange creatures began emerging from within the Castle, they knew that there were more than just spells afoot. The skies would bleed and the land faltered under the abuse of magic that had no business being invoked by those as powerful and evil as the Countess and her coven of witches. Majorova was the first but there would be others who would join the black circle of power that she had created. Along with Majorova, there was Katarina and later Dorotta Szentes and together, they had begun a quest that was nothing less than bridging the gulf between hell and earth in order to rule both. This much was admitted when the witches were burnt at the stake years later although Erzsebet herself escaped that fiery demise.

However, the sorcery and the desire to bring forth hell on Earth paled in comparison to six hundred dead young women. For years, the best and the brightest flowers of the province disappeared. It was believed at first that some terrible beast had come out of the woods and fed its hunger by taking their daughters but then no evidence of such a creature was ever found and though hunters searched the woods endlessly, they could not stop the killing. One by one, young women disappeared. They were taken from within locked rooms, stolen out of their homes and their bodies found later on drained of blood and almost always tortured. Some, it was learnt when the bodies were found, did not die immediately and took months to find their way to their families for burial.

People started to leave out of fear for their children. Young women who came of age fled the villages and still the body count did not stop. It began to fill the rivers, until each day a new corpse was found in the same brutal manner. The villagers thought themselves cursed and cast their gazes anxiously at the castle, not daring to speak what they all suspected and meanwhile, the Countess continued to take her midnight rides through town, looking ever the same, her beauty unmarked by time or age.

Inevitably, there were no more young women and for a time the deaths stopped and the villagers began to rest easier, thinking that perhaps the carnage had ended. Then the news arrived that Countess was opening her home to young noblewomen from across Hungary and Transylvania. It was a perfectly acceptable arrangement that she, a widow having lost her husband to the Turks in his pointless war, would accept visitors from court which whom she could nurture and train in the ways of high society, to make them more acceptable wives for the aristocracy. Despite the Countess’ reputation for bizarre predilections, there was no doubting her intelligence or her standing in Hungarian society.

It was a worthy arrangement, one that gave hope to those around her that perhaps she was settling into a move conventional lifestyle. They could not have been more wrong and perhaps it was the influx of so much new blood that made the Countess careless for no longer were the bodies of the victims deposited at the river. Instead, they were cast down from the walls of her fortress, leaving a clear trail of incriminating evidence to their murderer. This time there was no hiding who was responsible and as the families of the victims rallied to the Emperor demanding justice, all eyes turned to the Countess in accusation.

Hungarian Emperor, Matthias II, who had long heard the disturbing rumours about the Countess and was held back by the ancient belief that no member of the aristocracy should stand trial, moved quickly to get to the truth. It would be a truth was beyond what anyone had ever expected or could believe. A hundred soldiers appeared at the castle one terrible night, not long after the bodies were found at the foot of the walls. They seized the fortress and found a veritable chamber of horrors. The young women who had died were not merely drained of their blood, some were slit open and left to hang upside down with manacles, while their blood raining a shower over the Countess who supposedly used the crimson flow to maintain her beauty. She bathed in their death and sometimes had an ornate golden flask filled and brought to her like one would serve fine wine. Their arrival did not bother her in the least and she seemed confident that she would not be harmed.

However, Matthias was no fool. Amidst the rumours he had heard about the Countess, he had was told of her ability to beguile men and hold them under her sway. A ruthlessly logical man, he chanced nothing and sought the aid of an ancient order to make the arrest without hindrance by sorcery. The soldiers arrived at the castle with a young woman who was no more than sixteen years old, no older than the Countess had been when she had first taken her place as the mistress. The girl whose name was Brigitte of Lyons faced the Countess and prevented any spell from infecting the men that had come for her. There are villagers who claim the soldiers had called this young girl as a Slayer but a slayer of what, they did not know. However, it was clear that the Countess could not mesmerize her with her seductive charm and while the soldiers put to death by the stake the coven of witches that had aided Erzsébet in her butchery, Brigitte death with the Countess herself.

Brigitte had wanted Erzsébet put to death but Matthias was still too much a creature of his aristocratic breeding to allow a Countess even one was villainous as Erzsébet to be put to the death. Despite the young woman’s strident arguments for the sentence, Mathias decreed that the Countess who live out the rest of her life in prison. As much as the Order to which Brigitte belonged would have preferred otherwise, the Emperor of Hungary was not a man to be defied and so she begrudgingly complied to his wishes and Erzsébet did not meet her end like the rest of her companions. However, Brigitte was determined that the Countess would suffer an eternity of torment and undertook the task of carrying out Erzsébet sentence herself.

While Matthias would not agree to death for the Countess, he did acquiesce to Brigitte’s demand to have Erzsébet barricaded in her own room within the castle. Within the confines of her chambers, she would be walled in forever, with only a sliver of space left exposed in order for her to receive her food. Matthias found it most odd that the Countess was near hysterical at the pronouncement of this sentence. Certainly, it was harsh but far less brutal than being burnt alive like the rest of her accomplices. It required the restraint of several men not to mention leg and wrist irons to finally calm the woman down. Until she was placed into her new prison, the crude shackles were forced to remain because the Countess was almost animal-like in her frenzied resistant to her new situation.

And all the while Brigitte remained close by, watching.

They say the Countess died four years after being imprisoned in her castle but the villagers who lived close by often swore they could still hear her screaming.

Chapter One
Unleashed

Romania - 2001

The castle had been empty for almost four hundred years even though it had once been the centrepiece of a thriving province during the days when Transylvania had been a part of the greater Hungarian Empire. In its present-day existence, it was the relic left behind of a people that had abandoned their lands and their homes in order to put as much distance between them and their sinister past. Settlement in what was once a rich and populous province was almost non-existent with only a handful of villagers remaining behind. Whether or not it was superstition from years long ago or the fact that the modern-day Carpathian Mountains were still a most unforgiving place to subsist, the truth was the castle had frightened them away.

The men and women who approached the Castle Csejthe for the first time in four centuries were aware of its bloody history. From the initial settlement by the Clan Hun Gutkeled to the scandalous end of its last occupant, the famous Erzsébet Báthory, they were privy to every lurid detail of its Magyar masters and thought nothing of it. To them, its unsavoury past was merely window dressing to the mystic of the place, the rest was superstition that originated from simple folk who were unable to believe that human beings could be so intentionally sadistic unless there was some supernatural evil involved.

They brushed aside the stories about the castle, about its last occupant with little more than a shrug, accepting the belief that stories alone were powerful enough to drive a people away from their ancestral lands because of their fears of a cursed castle. They did not for one instant consider that there was more to the fear than just the tales, that the villagers who had departed since the infamous Countess had been walled up in her castle almost four centuries before might have good reason to do so. Their reaction was completely understandable because of what they were and because of what they were, they could not believe.

For they were scientists.

They dealt in things that could be seen and proven, unaware that there was a world that existed in the shadows only, that had little do with the one in which they lived. It was a world where science was meaningless - that what existed simply did for no other reason than that. It was a place where words had power and the soul was not a subject of philosophical discussion but rather a thing with substance and form that could be traded and sold, stolen or lost. They entered the castle, armed with their theories and beliefs in the physical world, secure in the knowledge that data and investigation would be enough to unlock the secrets buried in time, unaware that they had crossed a threshold few ever know they had passed until it was too late.

They arrived at the castle ignoring the warnings by those who had settled an adequate distance from the castle, who had once been apart of the people that had occupied Csejthe lands. The scientists were eager to examine the medieval fortress because Romania under the rule of the communists had barred exploration of such treasures until its eventual collapse in the late 1980s. The government scrambling for any way possible revenue from the ruins of the shattered economy was unable to deny the lure of American dollars by the university attempting to study the castle. Warily, the descendants of Csejthe watched as the American’s rumbled through the empty halls of the fortress, ignoring the warnings, deathly afraid that something would be awakened in all that noise.

You see they could still hear her.

They prayed that perhaps it was imagination, there was indeed nothing there. They hoped the scientists were right, that the Countess was not what they believed her to be but something altogether human that had been twisted by an obsession to beauty and other sadistic desires. They hoped for this a great deal because the likelihood of disaster was increasing with each passing day that the scientist conducted their search. Meticulous in their work, they invaded the castle like the Moslems the Magyars had tried so hard to repel from this land centuries years before. Nothing was left undisturbed as they studied and catalogued whatever was found in the numerous rooms. From the high guest chambers where the Countess had entertained her guests to the dungeons where she had tortured and murdered so many, they shifted through her life like a project, with no concept of the person of what she was to the former Csejthe people.

The prize they sought was, of course, the chamber in which she had been walled for the term of her natural life. They sought high and low for a room without doors or windows, only a sliver of an opening through which food and water could pass. Yet there was no trace of the legendary cell where Erzsébet Báthory had been incarcerated no matter how much they looked. Disappointed, they continued to search, while in the meantime they continued their cataloguing, determined to have something to show for their troubles, if not the body of the Countess herself.

The old people watched from the distance, dreading the time when the night descended upon the earth, aware that in the dark her power was at its strongest, even if it had not manifested itself yet. She was in her day a great sorceress and one of the dark ones who fed on the blood of the innocent in order to live. She was Nosferatu and the louder the hearts of living beings continued to beat within the castle walls, the closer she was to waking up again. Four centuries had placed her in a deep sleep from which she was slowly emerging, coaxed out of limbo by the rushing of warm blood and the beating of hearts full of life. It was her siren song, the call to which she could not resist. It was only a matter of time before she answered it.

Then one night, a young man, a freshman who had been astonished that he was apart of this amazing expedition, woke up from his sleep after hearing a strange yet mesmerizing voice calling his name. At first he thought he was dreaming because he did not consciously hear a sound as much as he felt it whisper inside his head. He sat there in his sleeping bag, looking across the person sharing the room with him, wondering why he was the only one who had heard that enchanting voice and was almost prepared to return to his slumber when he heard it again. This time, its sweetness tugged at his heart and forced him on his feet before he even knew that he was walking.

He drifted on the sound of her melodic voice, so full of innocence and promise, craving him like no woman had craved him before. She wanted only him and when he reached her, she would show him the absolute heights of pleasure. All his senses were awakened by the soft, caressing texture of her voice and for a brief moment, the world dissolved around him and he was caught in the singularity of his desire for her. Wherever she was, he had to find her and he knew she was in this castle somewhere waiting for him. He followed through the darkened hallways, up the corkscrew staircases that led into the spire-like towers, all the while seeing nothing else and hearing only her.

His destination when he arrived was a wall in a forgotten part of the castle that they had deemed unimportant weeks ago. He placed his hand on the brick, noting the orifice that had been sealed and could feel her voice reverberating through the stone. His heart danced at the physical contact and his mind was almost euphoric from the pleasure of knowing that she was so very close. Bursting with anticipation, he found the tools needed to free her and shattered the aging mortar and brick with a strength he did not know he possessed. He awakened the others in the process of his excavation but the castle was large and empty, so he was not easy to find because the sounds of his demolition sent echoes throughout the catacombs of its innards.

Dank musty air escaped the chamber when he finally created an opening large enough for him to enter. He stepped into the darkness, unafraid, desperate with need by this point for something that had absolute control of his mind and was driving him insane with desire. Stumbling into the room with little more than a dimly lit torch to illuminate his way, he found himself in the room of a great lady. Four-poster beds and ornate dressing tables, all covered with dust and cobwebs, a forgotten piece of time sealed within its confines. He was so enraptured by the fact that he had found her that he took little stock of the leather strap across her lips, the manacles on her hands and legs or that her body was nothing more than a withered husk, derelict as everything else in the room.

Using the same tools he had to make his violent intrusion into the room, he freed her from her bonds and pulled away from the strap that he learnt upon removing from her lips, was a gag. At that moment, the stupor that had taken his mind disappeared almost as suddenly as it began and he found himself staring into a corpse that had open her eyes and was looking directly at him. He opened his mouth to scream just as she opened her jaws and sank her teeth into his neck; feeding for the first time in four hundred years. She could not stop his scream because she was too weak and the effort of bringing him to her had been a Herculean effort on her part that had nearly drained her of what little strength she had left. However, that would soon change with the feeding.

Once again, the people who were once of the Csejthe heard screaming and this time, they knew it was not the Countess.

***********

He knew that when she was with him, she really wasn’t.

Even though at this moment, he had her body pressed up against him, feeling her heart pounding next to him as they moved in rhythm to the ancient dance far older than either slayer or vampire, he knew that she was not there with him. He could hear her breathless sighs and her craving for more but she was somewhere else. Her body reacted as was expected but he was nothing more to her than a source of ecstasy.

It was like seeing heaven but never being allowed inside it.

. She did not speak or say things to him as she had during their first coupling. On this occasion she was silent. He was not supposed to sweat or produce any kind of body odour but she was certain that his scent was in her mind. His smell reminded her of the books that used to inhabit Giles’ library at Sunnydale High, old and musty yet coupled with the knowledge that they should be handled with care for they were valuable, not to mention useful. Spike reminded her of that in one breath.

Sometimes, she did not understand him even though she feared she might be starting to love him. Reaching those disturbing thoughts made her pull away from his lips and for an instant, she felt him pause, almost as if in question at what he had done wrong now. She responded by burying her mouth in the crook of his shoulder, biting down with her teeth, aware that for a vampire it was an intense sensation to feel the bite instead of tedium of being the one to always inflict it.

"Oh God Buffy," she heard him groan and smiled a little, pleased that she brought him to this.

Her senses had started to hum, her body tensing because she was reaching the same crescendo as he. It was becoming difficult to concentrate on the texture on his skin, how its contrasting coolness felt against the heat of her skin. Buffy sometimes likened their trysts to a meeting of fire and ice, night and day and wondered if making love to him was what made her so poetic. The thought was disconcerting enough to detach her momentarily from the pleasure he was making her feel.

However, the time came to a standstill when the sensations she had been feeling suddenly rushed at her with all its fury. The breath was driven from her body. Her fingers forgot their exploration and dug into his back, her hips rising to meet his furious thrusts and Buffy’s eyes clamped shut as she crushed herself against him, desperate to feel the undulating tides of his flesh when he finally lost control. Her lips captured his and the rising waves of pleasure coursing through her body reached the point of no return when she felt him moan into her mouth when he could no longer contain himself. The overload of sensation was beyond belief and she felt gloriously alive when she succumbed at last to pleasure. The effect upon all of her was devastating. For a moment it felt as if she had died again and touched heaven. It was pure unadulterated feeling and at that instant, the warmth and love she might feel for him took shape as something wonderful, not something she was ashamed of.

Spike tensed and she knew it was upon him. His face became soft, almost childlike when he stared at her and at that instant, Buffy knew that chip or not, he loved her and it was not a love that was sick or obsessive as Xander so often claimed it was, but something pure. Perhaps the purest thing a vampire could ever manage in its brutal experience. Buffy saw it fill his eyes and a part of her was desperate to feel it too but there was something in her that would not allow it. She knew deep inside that it was fear of what that would entail.

For the present, she enjoyed the climax of their dance. She enjoyed watching his face melt into pure contentment, the smile that crossed his lips that was simple joy at being with her, devoid of the sardonic cynicism he used to guard himself against her. His body collapsed on top of her, pressing her into the softness of the mattress on his bed. Minutes ticked by where they merely lay there within the confines of his crypt, former enemies finding a strange kind of solace within each other's arms. There were no words, none were needed for there was an unspoken agreement between them that conversation would spoil what they had just shared. Although lately, Buffy was starting to think that the words might make it more than just a physical coupling, that it could create something neither could walk away from, or more specifically, something she could not walk away from.

As always it had been wonderful but once again, he was left with that sadness that to her it was nothing more than pleasure and for him, it was everything he had ever wanted. He knew she enjoyed being with him because there was nothing fake or manufactured about her responses to their lovemaking even though to her, it was sex, but she was not really his no matter how much he deluded himself into wishing it could be otherwise. She was the only person he knew who could invite him inside her and still keep him at arm’s length and inwardly it was killing him more effectively than any stake.

"I have to go," she spoke sometime later, pushing her off him gently.

Spike had expected that and rolled off her onto his back, obediently like the dog he was. Inwardly, he loathed himself for giving into her and then resigned himself to the fact that he was her creature and she would always get what she wanted from him. His love for her had made him a prisoner far more efficiently than even the chip residing inside his head. His eyes did not meet hers but were instead fixed on the wall above him. Whether or not she noticed his listlessness was hardly beside the point, she had amused herself at his expense once again and it was time to return to her life. After all, what was he to her but her dirty little secret?

Buffy got dressed quietly, noticing when she was almost dressed that he had made no attempt to speak to her which was somewhat unusual because there was the usual cajoling for her to stay. It was then she noted the expression on his face, the ingrained sadness that she had been trying to inure herself to because he was a vampire and it did not really matter what he felt. It was the first time she had seen it after they had made love and it disturbed her more than she would like to admit.

"Gee you’re Mr Quiet guy," she looked at him.

Spike did not look at her when he answered, "I didn’t think conversation was what you needed from me."

Okay, she thought inwardly, he was in one of those moods.

"Spike," she started to say.

"You best be getting on," he replied before she could finish.

She wanted to speak, to say something that would make it better but it would not come and she knew anything else said in place would be perfunctory and he would know. Somehow, she knew that would only deepen his pain and so she remained silent.

"See you around," she said softly and turned away from him.

"Whatever," he retorted and continued to stare at the ceiling.

It hurt seeing him like that and it felt even worse leaving him but once again, she retreated to the safety of the notion that he was Spike and he would survive. He always seemed to before and she was only wasting her time caring about his state of mind when he had got as much from her encounter as she. Buffy turned away without saying another word, walking out of his crypt as if it were another world and stepping through the looking glass into the reality where she was the slayer, with responsibilities to the world, her friends and her sister. Where she was not simply a girl who might have once again, fallen for the wrong man.

It was difficult to tell which world was simpler.

***********

Spike did not have to look to know that she was gone. He loved her and the curse of that meant that he would always know when she was near or far. He sensed her confusion at his behaviour when she had spoken her mind to depart but her obliviousness was part of the reason he could not care less that she had gone. Spike remained lying in bed for a time after she had left, basking in the scent of their lovemaking heavy in the air but still filled with that sadness that was seeping into his bones and becoming a part of him. He wondered had there ever been a time in his existence where the constant ache for someone who would never truly be his did not suffuse his entire being. First it had been Cecily, then Drusilla and now Buffy.

Cecily had rejected him and Drusilla had accepted him into his arms. Buffy was able to do both and unsurprisingly she hurt him worst of all. He had thought that she was starting to love him and foolishly he had deluded himself into believing that if he gave in to her demands, somewhere amidst of the pleasure he made her feel, something real would come from it. However, the only emotion he seemed to engender in her was indifference and it was not getting any better. If anything she was becoming more accustomed to keeping him at arm's length, even when they were engaged in the most intimate of activities. Sometimes he sensed a glimmer of feeling for him but Buffy had become expert at crushing out that flicker of hope and Spike was becoming exhausted searching for it.

Why was he still here?

Spike’s heart was breaking each time she took him into her body with eyes deader than his own. He knew that she saw him as little more than an instrument by which she reminded herself that she was still among the living but it was beyond Buffy’s comprehension that he was the same. Perhaps he was not alive in the sense that she was but he still hoped, dreamed and he still loved, no matter how much she convinced himself that what he felt was some twisted aberration. A few weeks ago, they had been transported back through time because of some vengeful demon’s spell and in order to save her, he had been willing to die. He had almost waited for the sunlight because it seemed simpler than the existence he now endured. For one instant, he had been ready to end it all because the pain of his situation was more than he could endure.

It was Buffy who stopped him. Buffy had spoken of possibly discovering her feelings for him and of needing him in her life. He had been clutching for any reason to live and at that instant of vulnerability, he had succumbed to the hope inside that maybe his love for her was not as one-sided as it seemed, that perhaps she was starting to feel for him. Yet since their return, it was obvious nothing had changed. He was her lover in the physical sense but emotionally he was nothing to her. Some men craved this kind of relationship but Spike was not a man and he was not entirely a vampire either. He had no idea what he was any more but he knew when he made love to Buffy it was not because she was a warm body willing to accept his advances, she was someone he loved and wanted to please.

Unfortunately, Buffy did not feel the same way.

He kept telling himself that she did love him even though she had shown very little evidence of that being remotely true. All she knew how to do was use him and Spike was becoming weary of playing the part of her toy. He was a Master Vampire! He had killed two slayers in his lifetime and he was of the Clan Aurelius! He deserved better than this life as a neutered vampire, one step up from having no fangs at all and worse yet, playing the part of the willing slave to a slayer’s lust! If Spike had not the courage to die then perhaps he could salvage some dignity by doing what he should have done the night he woke up from that dream and realized he was in love with the Slayer.

He should have left.

His eyes widened with the thought of leaving and the more it lolled around in his head, gaining momentum with every painful memory of her rejection, Spike wondered why it was so preposterous. What was to stop him from climbing into his De Soto and driving out of Sunnydale forever? Hell, if he wanted to, he could find Drusilla. He could go back to being the Big Bad, it was easy enough to do despite what Buffy might believe. So he could not kill humans, so what? He could kill vampires and he had more than enough savagery left inside of him to ensure that he could find rudderless fledglings in need of guidance to do the killing of humans for him.

Even if he chose not to return to the old ways, there were other places he could be. Roads travelled that he longed to revisit once again. He get in his car and go as far as he could and if enough time went by perhaps he might forget his Slayer and if not, time would catch up with her and she would no longer be in this world to beguile him. He would be free. Perhaps it was the sadness at being able to have something and never truly possess it that had made his resolve stronger than it had ever been but whatever the reason, it was enough; Spike had come to the decision – he was leaving.

He stood up from his bed, casting a gaze around the room that bore more resemblance to the aftermath of burglary than it did someone’s home and realized that he would be sorry to see the last of this place. He had worked hard making it into a home and now that it was starting to take shape, despite the occasional violent trysts with his Slayer, he supposed it was ironic that he would now be leaving it behind forever. However, Spike was not one to dwell on things. Spike sought out the duffel bag he had acquired shortly after his chipping when it was necessary to move from place to place when the hospitality of both Giles and Xander had run its course and he had found himself out on the street with no place to go.

Surveying the wreckage of the room, he grabbed some clothes, a few books and the more valuable appliances that would be difficult to replace particularly since he was not rolling in money, if he chose to settle someplace else. Prime among these was his television set because a vampire could not live by blood alone and missing Passions was not an option. It did not take him long to gather what belongings would make the journey with him and he tried not to focus too much on the fact that among them was a piece of lacy underwear the slayer had left behind in her haste to leave him. It was soaked with her scent and even though it was folly to keep it near him, Spike could not bring himself to leave it behind.

He pulled his leather duster over his shoulders and let his eyes sweep over the crypt that had been his home for the past two years. For a brief instant, he questioned what he was doing. How could he leave her? He loved her! Spike had promised to remain at her side forever and he would die before allowing her to be harmed. If he went now, he would be running out on her and she would be right that he could not be trusted, that he was not worthy of her love. With all those taunts hurtling themselves at him, Spike almost gave up the notion of leaving but then he had given that oath to the Slayer, not someone who would use him for pleasure and discard him whenever it suited. He once said that he loved her because she treated him like a man.

Nowadays, she treated him like her pet and as far as Spike was concerned, she no longer deserved his devotion. No matter how much it pained him to do this, he knew that if he stayed, things would only get much worse and who knew when he would have the courage to leave again? This could be the only chance he might have of walking away while he still could and he was not going to squander it. Taking a deep breath and reaching for the pack of cigarettes that had miraculously manage to remain on the small side table without being upended, he was in desperate need of a smoke. Lighting up, he inhaled the cigarette’s intoxicating elements into his system, allowing it to give him the focus he needed before he turned on his heels and left the crypt for good without looking back once.

***********

As Buffy stepped onto the familiar walk of Revello Drive, she found she could not dispel the thoughts of Spike no matter how hard she tried. The expression on his face when she had left the crypt had seared itself into her consciousness and had the rather curious side effect of inspiring her extreme guilt in her treatment of him. She knew what she was doing of course. She was not so heartless that she could see how much she was hurting him. However, each time Buffy gave serious thought to her feelings about him, she came up against this brick wall of denial and shame that nothing could penetrate.

However, tonight he had been particularly broody and Spike was not one to do that. In fact, it would surprise him just how much she knew about Spike if she bothered to tell him, which she did not. Like always, their lovemaking had been an experience to remember. She doubted that there was anyone who could make her feel the way he did. When she had made love to Angel, she had been a girl and it was, of course, the stuff of every girl’s romantic dreams and with Riley, it had been pleasurable but hardly earth-shattering. However with Spike; she felt like a woman grown into her own at last, not a slayer with the weight of the world on her shoulders, just a woman and it was surprising how good it felt to be just that.

It occurred to her that her behaviour was making Spike feel less than a man and it stung to know that she was treating him no better than how Parker had treated her in college. However, he was Spike and he always seemed to bounce back no matter what she did to him. Buffy was aware of the flaws in her reasoning but she could not bring herself to address them at this point. Her life was dismal at the best of times without her finding more reasons to doubt her self and her worth. Since her ‘resurrection’, there seemed to be no end to how useless she could be made to feel. If it were not for Spike, her life would be devoid of all colour.

Spike.

Once again, Buffy felt the irresistible pull towards the crypt, not to mention the need to say more than she had when she had left him. He was clearly in need of the same understanding and friendly ear he had provided her on so many occasions and she had just left him. Buffy suppressed the desire once more because she had to get home to Dawn. It was bad enough her younger sister saw her as neglectful even though Buffy was still required to put food on the table and keep the world safe from demons and other creatures that lurked in the darkness. As much as she wanted to be there for Dawn, a part of Buffy was furious that her little sister could not see that she was no more happier by the limitations on her time, then Dawn was.

She saw her house in the distance and took note of the fact that even though it was in the small hours of the morning, there were still lights on. She hoped Dawn was in bed because she was in no mood for another frosty scene between them. Their relationship of late had become more than strained and was quickly slipping into pure indifference. Buffy was actually starting to wonder that perhaps it was best if Dawn when to live with their father. As irresponsible as Hank Summers might be in his love life (a trait that seemed hereditary of late), her father would try to give Dawn the attention she needed. Buffy knew it was only a matter of time before another social services worker came to the house and found her lacking and this time there would be no invisibility spell to fix things as she had done the last time it happened.

Pausing at the foot of the path that led to her front door, Buffy sucked in her breath and needed to steel herself before she could begin walking again. Reaching the front door, she heard no sound from behind it and came to the conclusion that it was most likely that either Dawn or Willow had forgotten to turn off the lights when they had turned into bed. Glad that she did not have to face more questions of what she had been doing tonight, Buffy unlocked the door and stepped inside. She had taken no more than two steps into the front hall of the house when she heard Willow’s voice calling from the kitchen.

"Buffy, is that you?"

Buffy supposed that if she had to talk to someone, there were worse persons she could face other than Willow. She moved into the kitchen and saw Willow seated against the counter, nursing a hot cup of chocolate. It was obvious the Wiccan had come down here because she could not sleep. Her friend seemed so weary, Buffy realized and it was not merely because she was unable to sleep, the exhaustion in her face was ingrained and had been there ever since Willow had turned her back on the magic that had almost harmed Dawn. At that moment, Buffy was struck by the revelation that Willow’s determination to stay away from magic was a constant battle she was forced to fight, that was almost as vicious and physically taxing as any Buffy had engaged with a vampire.

"Hey Willow," Buffy greeted. "What are you doing up?" She asked, even though the answer was obvious.

"Couldn’t sleep," Willow sighed. "Thought a little chocolate goodness might do the trick. Want one?" Her eyes twinkled a little, reminding Buffy of the Willow of old, the one whose eyes glistened with joy the first time she levitated a pencil. Buffy missed that girl almost as much as she missed the one she had been.

"Yeah," Buffy nodded and was rewarded with a pleasured smile from her best friend, who was happy that they were sharing a moment together even in this late hour. "I could do with some chocolate goodness."

Willow set about making her a cup with more enthusiasm than anyone ought to be showing at this hour but Buffy was pleased of it nonetheless. Willow was enduring her own trials of late and as they sat there at the counter, soon to be nursing piping cups of hot chocolate, they felt like two veterans of wars comparing battle scars. Buffy watched Willow for a second, wondering if her best friend thought about the course their lives had taken, how unexpected some of the twists and turns had been. For some reason, Buffy found her mind returning to that morning when Willow had announced that she was going to Sunnydale College to Buffy’s great delight. She sometimes wondered if they had ever been so young because those days felt like a lifetime away.

"So did those vamps get what’s coming to them with major slayage?" Willow inquired as she slid the steaming cup of chocolate towards Buffy.

"Mostly," Buffy nodded, brushing aside thoughts of Spike once again and that niggling splinter of guilt that refused to diminish. "It was kind of slow really."

"Maybe if things are slow, you should let Spike patrol for a few days," Willow suggested, noticing the dark circles under Buffy’s eyes. Despite the fact that Buffy had superhuman strength, even Willow could see that the pressure of her responsibility was starting to wear Buffy down.

"Spike?" Buffy almost choked on her beverage at the mention of his name.

"Yeah, Buffy?" Willow crooked a brow, "Spike?"

"No," she shook her head after a moment, "it's okay. I can handle things."

"Are you sure Buffy?" Willow persisted. "You look kind of worn out."

"I am," Buffy confessed because it showed in her face and it was foolish to deny it, "but I can deal."

Willow nodded slightly, not wishing to press the issue even though the worry in her features was clear.

"What about you Will?" Buffy asked instead. "How are you doing? I wish I could be around more to help you through this." Buffy sighed, wishing that there were more than 24 hours in a day so that she could accomplish all the things that needed her attention.

"Oh no," Willow spoke quickly, "I understand that you got stuff to do what with the bills and slaying, I’m okay, I’m not peachy but I’m taking each day as it comes."

"I’m glad," Buffy smiled, reaching for her hand and giving it a small squeeze. It felt good to just sit and talk about things, even if she could not confide in Willow completely. "Have you heard from Tara?"

Willow’s gaze dropped and Buffy immediately felt guilty she asked the question, reopening a wound that was still quite fresh for her friend. Before Willow’s addiction to magic had come to a head, Tara had warned her about the dangers and had been ignored. Refusing to sit by and watch her self destruct, Tara had left but it was clear from both of them still had deep feelings for one another. Buffy had hoped seeing each other at the Bronze a week ago might open a dialogue between the two and mend the fences between them but it appeared nothing had come of it.

"No," Willow shook her head slowly. "I miss her."

"I know," Buffy replied softly, "I’m sure things will turn out okay eventually."

"The only way that is going to happen is if I can beat this thing," Willow said firmly. "I need to take back my life Buffy. I’ve let things slip because of the magic and I’ve pushed away the people that care. I’m trying to make things right but with Tara is going to take a lot more work."

Buffy could empathize with her friend completely since she had left her own life to rack and ruin of late and Willow’s regrets about Tara also corresponded with Buffy’s feelings towards Spike. Once again, she wished she had said something instead of simply walking out and leaving him. It was so obvious he needed some kind of reassurance from her.

"Tara loves you Willow," Buffy reminded her. "I’m sure that what’s happened lately hasn’t changed that. You two just need to talk things out. Sometimes all you need to do is talk about it."

Even as she said it, she felt like a hypocrite. It was good, sound advice and yet she could not confess to practising it herself. She used Spike for pleasure and when she was done with his body, discarded him without a second thought. The one time he had wanted to have a conversation, she had brushed it aside as if it were nothing, forcing his natural defences to rise up again and ruin the moment. She was as much to blame for it as he.

"Thanks a lot, Buffy," Willow smiled, feeling a little better not because of the advice but because Buffy was giving it. It felt like forever since they had talked deeply about anything. "I wish you’d meet someone. There hasn’t been anyone since Riley."

"Well," Buffy shrugged forcing thought of Spike away and his taunting words that he was her dirty little secret. "I wouldn’t have time for it anyway."

"You should make time," Willow gave Buffy her patented ‘resolved face’ which indicated she was serious about her statement. "Sometimes its good to have someone just to snuggle."

Buffy laughed, wondering if she had ever done that with Spike and felt a certain measure of disappointment when she realized that she had not. "It’s been a while but I seem to remember that snuggling was kind of fun."

"You’ll find someone Buffy," Willow smiled encouragingly, "and he’ll be great, you’ll see."

"I did find someone Will.," Buffy said sadly. "But we can’t ever be together so I think I’m just going to have to settle."

Willow let out a sigh, knowing that she was referring to Angel. Angel would always be Buffy’s great love, the one with whom she would inevitably hold others in comparison despite the fact that their love would always be impossible. Still, Willow had hopes that Buffy would find someone who could accept her for what she was without feeling inadequate because she was the Slayer. For all the weight that Buffy was required to carry on her shoulders, it was Willow’s considered opinion that she deserved to find a little love in her life.

"Don’t say that Buffy," Willow looked at her seriously. "You shouldn’t have to settle when it comes to finding someone."

Buffy thought about Spike and knew that she already had.

***********

 An hour later, Buffy found herself lying in her bed unable to sleep, her mind still fixed on her last encounter with Spike. She should not have left him, not when he so obviously needed to hear her say something more than she had. The expression on his face haunted her because it was so terribly sad and she could not accustom herself to seeing that way. On Angel, it was almost a natural state but on Spike, it felt wrong somehow. It gnawed at her that the proud vampire who had once been her greatest nemesis was reduced to a broken, defeated remnant of what he once was and that the reason for his deconstruction had more to do with her callousness then her abilities as a Slayer.

All he had wanted from her was to be loved and Buffy had taken advantage of that vulnerability and used it to her own end. She needed to feel and for reason that she had yet to fathom or admit, she could only accomplish this with him. She continued to toss and turn in her sheets, the memory of their lovemaking still fresh in her mind. Buffy closed her eyes and was greeted with the contentment and love in his eyes when he had spilled forth inside of her. There had been an expression of wonder and quiet awe on his face at being able to touch her so intimately. He had tried to make it wonderful for her and all she had done in return was tell him that they did not make love that it was only sex.

She sat up abruptly, knowing she would not rest until she had seen him, cursing herself for this weakness even though she knew it was the right thing to do. Buffy dressed quietly, praying that Willow was asleep and would not notice her departure. Just to be safe, she exited her room the way she had done before her mother knew that she was the Slayer, climbing out of the window like a sixteen-year-old with a secret to hide. A sense of nostalgia-filled her as she lowered herself to the sidewalk below the tree and remembered as she started for the Sunnydale cemetery that this was the tree from which Spike used to watch her.

She started running without even realizing it.

The last time she had run like this was when Riley had left. The Initiative had invited him back into the throng and after she had found out that he had been allowing vampires to feed off him out of some misguided desire to feel needed, she had been more than prepared to let him go. However, when Xander pointed out some home truths that she should have known if she had truly loved Riley, Buffy realized that leaving was the last thing she wanted him to do. She had run to the place where he would be spirited by helicopter to his new life, desperately trying to reach him before it was too late. Unfortunately, Buffy had arrived to see the chopper lift off and her cries could not penetrate the thumping of rotor blades to reach him.

She ran all the way to his crypt filled with a sense of urgency that would not let go of her mind. Her heart had started pounding on the way there, not from the exertion or her pace but from fear that she had crossed the line with him tonight and it was one from which there was no returning. She did not love him yet, he had been right about that much but she did still need him. Whether or not that need became love was something she could not predict but he was the one thing in her life that she looked forward to since she had returned to the land of the living. Of all the people in her life, even those she called her dearest friends, he was the one who understood and she had used him shamelessly.

Buffy arrived at the crypt and knew the moment she passed through the open doorway, he was gone.

Dazed, she crossed the floor of the crypt and found the entrance to his home beneath it. Descending into the comfortable annex that Spike had made his own these past two years, she let her gaze sweep across the shambles of the room that he had not bothered to tidy and noticed that there were things missing. Most notably was the TV set, his most prized possession next to the leather duster he was always wearing. She swallowed hard, feeling a wail of anguish gaining momentum deep within the core of her as she saw that his clothes were no longer in the drawers and that old, gray duffel bag which hung on the bedpost when she had been here last was nowhere in sight. She kicked an empty pizza carton away her feet and saw that his books were also gone. Who knew that a vampire could have such a collection of books on 18 – 19^th century poetry?

Such thoughts moved across her brain like molasses, perhaps protecting her from the onslaught of grief about to sweep her away when it could no longer be held back. She drifted towards the unmade bed, which still bore the evidence of their lovemaking by the rumpled lines of its sheets. Buffy lowered herself onto the soft mattress, so stunned by the fact that he had gone that she did not know how to feel. It should not have mattered that he was gone because she did not love him. She did not! She could not! Yet that did not change the fact that the agony that was tearing through her heart almost rivalled what she had felt when Angel had left and it was all because for the sake of a vampire she did not love.

He promised her that he would never leave her! Buffy thought defiantly as she was faced with a conclusion she did not want to reach. How could he do that to her after what Angel and Riley had done? She had been secure in the notion that he was the one person who would not desert her and yet even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew more assuredly than all the others, she had driven Spike away. He had told her as much that he would have stayed at her side forever if she had not started using him the way she had the last few weeks. Before that he had come to terms with the fact that he would never have her and it was enough if he just had his friendship, but Buffy had change the rules and had used him to soothe her own pains, unaware that he had some of his own.

Why should she have expected him to stay?

Of all the others who had gone, it was Spike who had most cause to leave. Angel had left without even asking her. Riley had given her no choice but with Spike there had been choices and she did not take any of them. All he had wanted was a little kindness and no matter what Buffy told herself, sexual favours did not qualify. When she left his crypt some time later, it had started to rain and she walked through the downpour hardly noticing the rain against her skin because her mind was too filled with astonishment that Spike had actually gone. The rain hid the tears that were running down her face and she supposed that if Spike knew that she was weeping for him, it might have served as the impetus he needed from her to stay.

But was too little too late. She had lost him.

She arrived at Tara’s doorstep, unable to go home because her mind was in such turmoil, standing in the rain waiting for Willow’s former lover to open the door.

"Buffy?" Tara’s concerned expression greeted her a short time later when the Wiccan staggered out of bed in something of a stupor to answer the door at such an ungodly hour.

Buffy could only stare back at her wearing that same lost mask before whispering. "Spike’s gone."

***********

Spike had not planned on stopping but as he drove out of town, he noted that he was out of cigarettes and now way was he going to continue on the path he chose without a smoke. There were some things even a neutered vampire would not settle for. Unfortunately, he had made this discovery when he was almost on the outskirts of town and Spike had no inclination to turn back. Besides, he had not felt resolve this strong in quite some time and he wanted to ride its momentum as far as it would take him. With any luck, it would not exhaust itself until he was quite some distance away from Sunnydale. Fortunately, the Sunnydale airport was still open at this time of the night and it was on his way.

He tried not to think of Buffy as he took the road leading to the airport, aware that his thoughts about the Slayer would only alter his desire to leave town. However, he could not help but wonder how she would take his leaving. He liked to think that she might be upset but Spike was too much of a realist to delude himself with that hope. If he knew his Slayer with any depth at all, she would most likely meet the discovery of his departure with a sense of relief. Leaving made it easier for her because she no longer had to hide her lustful predilections or her ‘dirty little secret’.

The only one who might take his absence badly would be the little Bit. Despite himself, that did bother Spike a great deal. Sometimes, he felt like the only one who remembered that she was more than Buffy’s little sister and former key. At first, she had been his sacred charge to Buffy but throughout the summer, he came to care for her in a way he had not done for any human since Buffy. He loved Dawn too because unlike her sister, Dawn considered him a friend. Spike made a mental note to drop Dawn a line when he got the chance and explain things to her. He felt badly that he had not said goodbye and knowing Dawn she would not appreciate his leaving without saying it.

It did not take him long to the see the dim light of the airport through the heavy blanket of rain and cloud that seemed to have come out of nowhere. Sheets of the stuff began rushing past the windscreen and the hood of his car as he pulled into the airport lot. Spike did not think many flights would be taking off in such extreme weather but did not give it any more thought than that as he left his car and ran towards the main terminal, his duster pulled over his head to shield himself from the rain. He managed to stay relatively dry when he stepped under the awning where late-night passengers were waiting for cabs and other transitory vehicles to pick them up. For a few seconds, he shook himself of the excess water before proceeding inside.

Stepping inside the small terminal, he found that the airport was mostly empty. It appeared the bulk of the passengers were outside under the awning waiting for their rides to come to collect them. A few stragglers remained to wait for planes that did not look as if they were going to take off for some time and Spike questioned whether those who called air travel glamorous had ever been seen any of the weary faces presently trapped in transit. Searching the terminal, he found a newspaper stand and immediately started towards it. Fortunately, the rain would not impede his travel plans much and Spike wanted to be underway again as soon as possible. Before the sun rose the next morning, he wanted to be a good distance away from here. Maybe he would drop in on Angel, see if what his Sire was up to lately and perhaps amuse himself by driving the soulful vampire insane for a few days.

He was just about to reach the newsstand when suddenly; he felt his keen senses stirring inside of him. Spike stopped in his tracks and searched the immediate vicinity for the cause. He could feel something about to arrive, something that gave him pause and crushed any thought of leaving Sunnydale because he had a feeling he might need to find Buffy after all. He could sense a presence nearing him and it was old and very powerful. Its strength sang to him like colours of the rainbow and the last time Spike had been in the sphere of that much power was when he had beheld the Master for the first time. This was not as strong as that but it could not be underestimated either.

It was then that he saw her.

She was in his considered opinion, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. His jaw dropped slightly at seeing her sweep into the arrival lounge and captured the attention of every man present. Dressed in a long fiery red coat with fur cuffs and collars, she peered at him with eyes of liquid chocolate from beneath the Russian styled fur cap she wore, ruby red lips curling into a smile upon meeting his eyes. Spike swallowed thickly as he found himself breathing shallow which was somewhat odd since he had no breath, to begin with. This was no girl he found himself beholding but a woman, worldly and confident in every sense of the word. Despite her sultry features, she was Old World elegance and when she stared at him, he knew immediately that they were of the same kind.

She was a vampire.

She had moved through the arrival lounges and emerged at the main body of the terminal not far from him, accompanied by an entourage of six that Spike knew immediately were also vampires. They were tall, brutish looking men whose primary function Spike deduced was to act as muscle. Clad in dark suits, they appeared as formidable as they looked and upon sensing his presence turned their eyes towards his direction. Spike wondered if he could take them all and knew that it would not be easy but yes, he could manage if he had to. However, there was no need because she crossed the space between herself and Spike in a matter of seconds with every indication in her eyes that she was not coming to attack him.

"Hello," she greeted. Her voice was thick with a Romany accent that did not sound all that different from the one used by Dracula. "I did not expect to see one of us so soon upon our arrival. I sensed you as soon as I stepped off that flying contraption."

"You mean the plane," Spike replied attempting to project a cool, indifferent demeanour. "Nothing to do with fate Luv, I’m just passing through."

"How unfortunate," she smiled at him and Spike almost melted there and then. For a moment he almost forgot who he was. "I was hoping you might show me around."

"This is the Hellmouth," Spike retorted. "Not much to see and the feeding is dangerous. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get back on that ‘flying contraption’ and head back out. I was getting out of here myself."

For some reason, he did not wish this beautiful creature to have a run-in with the Slayer. Apart from him feeling as if he was betraying Buffy but he could not help it, something about the woman was making it hard to think. He was not usually captivated like he was some kind of fledgling but he could not keep himself from becoming lost in her eyes or by the dulcet tones of her voice. Everything about her was intoxicating. He could not get enough of looking at her.

"I like a little danger, don’t you? " She asked as she took a step closer to him and Spike closed his eyes and tried not to be bombarded by the scent of rose water against her skin. He did not think anyone used that as a scent anymore. However, it did not matter because on her it smelt heavenly. His head was starting to swim a little and Spike was absorbing her presence into his skin like the water that had soaked part of his clothes. He looked briefly over her shoulder and saw her minions smiling faintly as if they understood all too well this spell that she seemed to cast and empathized with what he was enduring at this moment.

"I guess so," Spike responded noncommittally but the truth was he was getting lost by the gaze of her incredible eyes. In them, he saw promises of faraway places and was reminded of feeling the same enchantment when he looked in Drusilla’s eyes.

"My name is Elizabeth," she introduced herself, still standing so close to him that her intoxicating scent was making it hard to concentrate on anything but the sound of her enchanting voice.

"My name’s Spike," he replied.

"Spike?" A brow crooked above her eye. "That is an unusual name Spike but I have a feeling you weren’t always called that were you?"

"I used to go by William," he found himself answering, almost against his will. "William the Bloody," he added after a moment.

"How marvellous," she smiled, "I sense the power in you William the Bloody," her hand drifted to his brow before his fingers traced a tender line down his cheek. "You are indeed intriguing William, a god carved in marble trapped in this unsavoury place."

"A god?" Spike almost chuckled at the description.

"Yes," she nodded before her finger moved to his lips and traced his lower lip with the tip. "I can sense the passion in you William, the need to be loved. I know what that feels like. They think that just because we are creatures of the night, we have no soul but we do William, you know that don’t you? You feel its existence inside you, it's not the same as the one you were born with but it is a soul just the same and with it we can still feel pain and sorrow and all the things that they feel but think us too unholy to deserve."

Spike’s throat was dry. He wanted to say something glib to hide the fact that she was right and that her words had sliced him to the core but they would not come. He could not deny anything that she had said and the fact that she knew him so well made his insides bleed with yearning. "We’re dead to them," he spoke softly after a minute. "We’re not worthy of being real, of feeling things like they can."

"You see," she pulled back a little and smiled at him. "You understand all too well William. They convince themselves that we are soulless, evil creatures without any understanding of emotions or love because it makes it easier for them to destroy us. We are not different from any other predator who hunts for its food. The wolf feeds in much the same way as we and yet it is not as despised as we are. They hate us, William, because we are more alike them then they find tolerable."

She stepped further back and stretched out her gloved hand. "Come with me William and I will show you what it is to truly love and be loved."

And like the deer caught in the headlights of a car, Spike could do nothing but let her when he reached out and entwined her fingers in his.

Chapter Two
Acquisitions

Buffy at on Tara’s sofa, wearing a nightgown borrowed in place of the clothes she had soaked after being in the rain, not even the aromatic smell of hot chocolate was able to lift her spirits. Despite the fact that she was now relatively dry and the heat of the beverage was warming her hands as she held the mug, Buffy still felt numb with cold. She knew the frozen sensation had nothing to do with the hellish weather outside or the fact that she had been soaked to the bone. It was not a physical reaction but rather an emotional one. If anything it was the most emotion she had displayed since returning to the mortal plane. A part of her mind still remained in stunned disbelief because if she forced herself to accept the truth, her mind would simply shut down from the anguish. It was the only way she knew of coping with what had happened.

"Are you sure he’s gone?" Tara asked sympathetically from where she was sitting on the other end of the sofa.

"Yeah," Buffy nodded slowly. "He took his clothes, his books and his TV." Buffy looked up and saw the question in Tara’s eyes at the mention of the last article. "Spike with no Passions is not a happy Spike," she explained quickly.

"Oh," Tara said quietly, unable to imagine the rebellious vampire sitting in front of a television set slave to a third rate soap opera.

"Believe it or not, he used to watch it with my mom," Buffy replied, seeing her attempting to visualize the scene. "My mom liked him a lot. I could never understand why."

Buffy thought about her mother and Spike on a sofa not too dissimilar than this one, watching Passions with Spike giving Joyce a running commentary for the plot twists she had missed. Not to mention the number of times Buffy had walked through the front door and saw them both sharing tea in the kitchen. She wished more than anything that her mother was still alive because Joyce would make everything all right. Even after Joyce had learnt Buffy was the Slayer, she never saw Buffy as anything but her daughter and no matter how bad things got, Joyce was always there to give her the support she needed. Sometimes that love was all that kept her from staying in bed and never coming out again. She was beginning to understand that Spike’s affection had in some small way, taken the place of that love. No matter what she did to him and lately, that had included physical, verbal and emotional abuse; he stood by her no matter how much she hurt him.

"Spike can be nice," Tara volunteered from what experience she had with the vampire.

Spike was not overtly sentimental but he did respond to kindness, something that the Scoobies had not shown him in great quantities. Tara understood that part of this had to do with the fact that he had once been a Master Vampire with desires of killing them all. Still, even after he had been tortured by Glory and fought alongside them all summer, he was still not counted as one of them. Perhaps he never would be but Tara noted the dislike of the others and it seemed unfair since Buffy relied upon him so much to protect them in her absence which he did with unfailing ability when they had lost Buffy. It was obvious that he used the sarcasm to mask the fact that he was an outcast among vampires, trapped in a situation where death might possibly be the only way out.

"He can be," Buffy agreed. "He’s nice around Dawn."

"He protected her all summer Buffy," Tara reminded. "He made sure nothing hurt her."

Buffy had not forgotten that but she did not like to think of it too often. Lately, she had been taking up all his time so that he had not even had the chance to spend much time with Dawn and her sister was suffering from this lack of contact, not just from him but also from all of them. Buffy had not even known about Dawn’s loneliness until her recent birthday party. It felt like everyone important in her life was suffering from her neglect but at least she had fixed things with Dawn by spending more time with her sister. However, the damage done with Spike was not easily repaired.

"Buffy maybe this is for the best," Tara offered gingerly.

Buffy shot a hard stare in her direction. "How can this be the best for me?"

"I meant for Spike," the Wiccan replied.

Buffy fell silent again and could not speak because she had no idea how to answer that.

"Buffy," Tara sucked in her breath aware that this was probably not what Buffy wanted to hear but someone had to say it and since the Slayer had chosen her as a confidant, Tara felt she owed it to Buffy to be honest with her. "Spike falls in love hard but when he does its complete, isn’t it?"

Buffy considered a moment his relationship with Drusilla, which had lasted almost the entirety of his undead life. He had stayed by Drusilla’s side even when she was weak. He had nursed her through the bad times and the good times, however, vampires measure that. His loyalty and devotion were unquestioning. Indeed his way of proving how much he loved Buffy was to show that he was prepared to stake Drusilla, his black princess of almost a century. At the time the whole thing had repulsed Buffy but now she understood it was his way of expressing his undying devotion.

"I guess so," she muttered uncomfortably.

"Buffy you have to let him go if you don’t love him." Tara declared.

"I need him," she answered too quickly.

"That’s not enough for Spike," Tara retorted. "Buffy, I don’t understand how he can love the way he does but the fact is he can and he loves you. You didn’t see him when you died. He was crushed and despite all that, he looked after Dawn and protected her because he loved you. If you don’t love him, let him go. You know using him like this is wrong. You’re giving him hope and taking it away from him again."

Buffy sucked in her breath because Tara’s words had the effect of a physical blow. "I don’t want to need him!" Buffy cried out, unable to meet Tara’s gaze as she spoke, her lips quivering as the words escaped her. "He’s a dead thing! He doesn’t even have a soul! How can he be capable of feeling anything?"

"I don’t know," Tara said with a slightly authoritarian voice because she knew Buffy used that argument too much to justify the things she did to Spike and it was as wrong. "I know that he does. Buffy, you know this is hurting him, you said so."

"I know," she replied softly, meeting Tara’s eyes. "After we were together, he was so sad. I could see it in his eyes. I should have stayed or said something to him but I didn’t. I never want to stay because if I do, we could talk and then talking leads to…"

"Getting to know him?" Tara ventured a guess. "Getting to see him as something more than just someone you have sex with?"

Buffy nodded her head guiltily, "I guess so."

"Buffy do you love him?" Tara asked for the second time.

"I don’t know," Buffy answered giving her the same response. "Before we started sleeping together, I think I could have. I’d go to him when I was feeling down and he would listen to me and everything he said to me was not about me being the Slayer, it was me being just Buffy, the girl he loved. It felt like he was the only one who saw the real me and couldn’t less about the Slayer. I could talk to him about anything and he helped just by listening. When we were like that, I felt for him but I don’t know if that’s love. All I know is that I need to be with him to feel something these days. Now that he’s gone, I feel so empty inside."

It certainly sounded to Tara as if the slayer was in love with Spike despite all the feelings of denial Buffy harboured about their relationship. Of course, Tara was only surmising this by what Buffy was telling her and only Buffy knew for certain what was in her heart and at this moment, she appeared too confused to make that determination clearly.

"Maybe he just needed some time away," Tara offered, knowing inwardly that if Spike had gone this time, the chances were good that he was not coming back.

"No," Buffy discounted the possibility almost immediately. "I wish that was the truth but it isn’t, I finally drove him away too and you know what the kicker is?" She looked at Tara and uttered a bitter laugh. "This time I deserved him leaving me. I really did treat him like my dirty little secret. I mean he was good enough to sleep with but not enough to tell my friends about? I want to find him and tell him that it wasn’t just sex to me, that I did enjoy being with him but now he’s gone and I don’t think I’ll ever get the chance to do that."

"You don’t know that for sure," Tara replied trying to be comforting but she knew that Buffy was probably right. Wherever Spike had gone, Tara had no doubt that it was beyond Buffy’s reach. That meant if he were not already heading out of Sunnydale, he soon would be.

"Yes I do," Buffy whispered, her eyes glistening with tears and she remembered the emptiness of the crypt when she had hurried back to find him. It felt as if something precious had been lost, something that could have been very good if only she had allowed it the chance to be. Now it was too late. "Even if he did come back I don’t know if I could say anything to him that would make him stay."

Tara wished she had the words to absolve Buffy of her perceived sins but she did not. Besides, forgiveness was not what Buffy needed. She needed understanding more than any anything else, that and a friendly ear. She was too terrified of going to Willow and Xander, Willow because her former lover had troubles enough of her own with her addiction to magic and Xander would not understand, no matter how much Buffy tried to explain it. Xander’s natural aversion to vampires, particularly of the male variety with interests in Buffy was well known to all. He would almost certainly offer a vehement response to the knowledge of their relationship and Buffy did not need that right now.

"Buffy," Tara spoke after a moment. "Maybe you should take a step back and see if he comes back."

Buffy’s expression showed her scepticism before she answered, "I think we both know that’s not going to happen."

Unfortunately, Tara could not disagree with Buffy on that statement because she knew the Slayer was right. If Spike had mustered enough determination to finally leave Buffy after everything they had been through these past two years, then it was highly unlikely that he would return to suffer the same indignity again. As much as she cared for Buffy, Tara could not help thinking that in the long run this was the best course for the vampire. He could not indefinitely remain at Buffy’s side, always uncertain of what his place in her life really was. Even Buffy could not make that determination herself and it was unfair for Spike to be left in a limbo where there was no real hope he would ever win her heart.

"No, I guess not," Tara admitted after a long pause.

Buffy supposed that even Tara knew a lost cause when she saw it and had to concede that her relationship with Spike was always going to end this way, no matter how much she might think she was above using him as heartlessly as she had. In truth, she had used him and she had even admitted it to Tara but since then, she had done little to keep away from Spike and he had taken extreme abuse at her hands. He tried not to think about how badly she had beaten him up a few weeks ago. Even with a vampire’s metabolism, it had taken him a while to recover and yet he still accepted her into his arms whenever she needed him. She wondered which of them was without the soul because lately, she could not tell.

"Maybe it's better this way," Buffy replied softly. "Maybe, it's best that he finds someone else who can make him happy."

"Yeah," Tara nodded in sympathetic agreement.

However even as the words left her, Buffy could not help but feel this deep well of anguish inside of her who did not think it would be as simple as all that and that when it mattered the most, she had failed Spike.

Again.

***********

Buffy returned home in the small hours of the night once the rain had stopped its relentless bombardment of Sunnydale. She slipped into her bed and fell immediately into a restless sleep where she spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, dreaming dreams that reeked of loneliness and longing for things she knew would not come to pass even more so than usual. She dreamed of Angel and wondered why all her loves could not be as pure as that all-important first love. In those days, there had been no doubt about what she felt for Angel, no matter what he might have done in the past. She loved him unashamedly, content that it was good and pure. There were none of the complications that came with the later relationships. With Riley, it had all been about dating a ‘normal’ guy and not about him, not until it was too late.

With Spike it was all about her and once again, it was too late.

She woke up feeling as if the world had drained of its colour, her bones weary with an ache that was not merely the result of the uneven night of slumber she had experienced. It was this deep pit inside of her, widening as she stepped out of her room and went to face the world outside, drawing to it all her strength to go on. She paused by Dawn’s room to check on her sister and noted that her bed was empty. Glancing at the hallway clock, something she had failed to do when she had awoken from her restless sleep, Buffy noticed that it was way past breakfast. No doubt Dawn was already on her way to school. Hopefully, Willow had seen her off with a decent breakfast. She wondered why neither of them chose to wake her up but then with the hours she was doing lately with her job and being the Slayer, they probably decided that she needed the sleep.

She padded downstairs and realized that she was alone in the house since Willow had probably taken herself off to classes once seeing Dawn off to school. Sucking in her breath, she made herself a small breakfast of cereal and contemplated her day. She had to be at the Double Meat in about an hour after which the rest of her day would involve slaying and then coming home to spend some quality time with Dawn. After all, she would have more time for that now that Spike was gone and she did not have to see him. She tried to tell herself that this was a good thing and yet that traitorous vortex of pain that had not diminished since she awoke reminded her of its presence with a sharp sliver of sadness coursing through her.

She went to work with the same ache, serving customers and going through the motions all the while casting glimpses past the counter to the clear windows that needed cleaning every ten minutes to cope with the grubby fingers of children, waiting for the sun to go down so that he might appear. Inwardly, she knew he would not. The look in his eyes when they were last together told her that what she had done then was permanent. When she had crossed the threshold between his crypt and the outside world, she had thrown away her last chance with him. Buffy knew all this and yet she hoped with more desire than she ought that he might still appear. It was foolishness and she knew it but the part of her that enjoyed their lovemaking so much, that liked the expression of wonder in his eyes whenever she appeared at his crypt, could not help it.

By the time her shift for the day had ended, the sun had well and truly set and there had been no sign of Spike, confirming her worst fears that he was indeed gone. She left work in something of a stupor, watching for shadows not because she was the slayer and she was meant to protect Sunnydale from vampires but because she missed the one vampire who had come to mean more to her than she had possibly believed. Buffy headed towards the Magic Shop intending to pick up Dawn before heading home. Since her birthday party where it came to light just how neglectful Dawn had felt, not to mention her shoplifting habits, Anya had come up with the solution that by working off her punishment at the store, they could also spend some time with her. Buffy had not disagreed since Dawn should be held responsible for what she had done but also the others could be there for her sister when she was not.

Buffy walked into the Magic Shop and saw that most of her friends were already there. Anya was behind the counter apparently showing Dawn the highlight of the day; being the counting of the day’s taking. It was appalling how well she had adapted to the American way. Dawn was listening intently and Buffy was surprised to see that she was actually enjoying the lesson or closer to the point the attention she was receiving. Anya’s logic in this whole situation had been to shower Dawn with so much attention she would not even conceive of shoplifting. Buffy had to give credit for originality at least.

Xander and Willow were hitting the books; no doubt attempting to uncover the whereabouts of the trio of ‘supervillains’ that Buffy had aptly named the Nerds of Doom. Lately, the trio’s annoying antics had taken a decidedly deadly slant and now it was becoming necessary to find them and quickly before they escalated their attacks against her. While Buffy could not prove that they had killed Katrina, a young woman who used to date Warren, a member of the group, Buffy was certain that they did. Why else would they attempt to make her think that she had been responsible for the death? If it had not been for a conversation she had overheard at the police station, Buffy would have confessed to the crime by now. Now that they had a taste for killing, there was nothing to say they would stop with just that one death and the need to find them was now an imperative she could no longer afford to take anything but seriously.

"Hey Buffy," Willow noticed her first and greeted as she crossed the floor with the others soon joining in.

"You look beat Buff," Xander noted as she slumped into the chair rather resignedly. Genuine concerned filled his face at how exhausted she looked and once again, Xander wished he were in the position to help her. It was not right that Buffy should be saddled with financial responsibilities as well as saving the world on a regular basis and expected to raise a young sister as well. "Maybe you should forget the slaying for tonight. Willow mentioned you said it was quiet."

"I should patrol," Buffy sighed even though she would dearly love to get an early night once in awhile.

"Get Dead Boy to do it," Xander offered automatically, ‘dead boy’ being his term of endearment for Spike. It had also been the same for Angel.

The mention of Spike’s name made Buffy stiffen involuntary and it was a shift in her manner that Buffy was certain everyone caught.

"I can’t," she said quietly, deciding they had to know sometime. "Spike’s gone."

"Gone?" Dawn’s outburst was the loudest. Other than Buffy, she was closest to the peroxide haired vampire.

"He left." Buffy replied, unable to meet her gaze.

"You don’t mean dead do you?" Anya asked tactlessly as always.

"No," she quickly answered, not wishing for Dawn to think that even for a moment although she did not know how much better her sister was going to take the fact that Spike had suddenly just up and left Sunnydale. "He left town. I went by his crypt on my way home and I saw it was empty. He’s packed up his stuff and gone, even took the TV."

"Uh oh." Willow muttered. "That’s not good. He doesn’t miss his TV for anything."

"Well we knew it was bound to happen sooner or later," Xander sighed, wondering whether he would sad to see the back of Spike or not. In truth it felt good not being the only guy in the Scoobies, what with Giles gone. Spike had made Xander feel like he was not apart of some supernatural sewing circle. Now he too was gone and Xander felt a little sadness at his departure. "He couldn’t stay around forever hoping that Buffy would give him the time of the day."

"But he promised…." Dawn whispered softly, her eyes glistening with tears as she spoke. "He said he’d always protect me."

Buffy swallowed away the lump in her throat, feeling perfect empathy with Dawn over the departure of the vampire except unlike Dawn she was not allowed to show her sorrow. However, no sooner than the thought crossed her mind, Buffy reminded herself that if she was not allowed to show how she felt it was entirely her own fault. She was the one who kept her intimate relationship with Spike a secret. Perhaps it would have been easier to decide how she felt about him if she had not had to worry so much about what others would think. Unfortunately, these were perspectives that had come too late.

"Dawn," Buffy rose to her feet and started towards her sister. "Spike probably thought it was time to go. I mean he’s a vampire, they don’t get attached to people or places for too long."

"That’s not true!" Dawn shouted vehemently, her anguish manifesting itself into tears with the others in the room looking onwards helplessly because they did not have the relationship that she did with the vampire. "Spike cared about me and he cared about you! If you weren’t always so mean to him, he might have stayed!" She glared at Buffy in accusation.

"Dawnie that’s not true," Willow came quickly to her best friend’s defence. "Buffy could have staked Spike long ago. After trying to kill us, she had every right too."

"That’s not how he is anymore!" She cried out, wishing the so-called adults in the room who thought they knew everything could see the vampire like she did. "You didn’t see what he was like when you were gone Buffy," she stared at her sister. "He wasn’t just protecting me! He was my friend! He was my only real friend!"

"We’re your friends Dawn," Anya stuttered, not understanding how the young woman could think otherwise.

"No," she shook her head, wiping away her tears as she pulled away from the counter. "You’re all Buffy’s friends. Spike was mine." She said softly and then broke into a run past them.

"Dawn!" Buffy called out but her sister was not listening. In a little more than a second, Dawn had reached the front door to the magic shop and slammed it close behind her.

For a few seconds after she had left, no one could say a word. Buffy resisted the urge to pursue her sister, perfectly aware that at times like this is was best that she wait until Dawn had calmed down a little before attempting to approach her. Her sister could be extremely volatile when she was emotional like this and truth be known, Buffy was too drained at this moment to go after her. The others were just as speechless as she was, uncertain of how to react to despair at Spike’s leaving. For two years, the vampire had been something of an unknown in their existence. He was apart of their group and yet not quite one of them. There were moments when they saw him as the murderer who was known as William the Bloody and then there were others times when he put his life in jeopardy for them, becoming an outcast amongst his own kind for this misguided love he felt for Buffy.

"Should someone go after her?" Willow finally broke the silence after a moment.

"No," Buffy shook her head, having already considered that long before Willow asked the question. "Let her cool off first."

"Buffy, its kind of dark out there," Xander reminded her.

Buffy stared out the window of the magic shop and wondered what she had been thinking, letting Dawn venture out alone like that. No matter how badly Dawn may feel about Spike leaving, this was still Sunnydale and the night was nothing to be taken lightly. She started walking across the floor with every intention of finding her sister and bringing her back no matter how mad Dawn was at her when suddenly, Xander spoke up.

"Buffy, let me go. I think you’re right, she needs to cool off but she’d probably do it a lot better around me then you right this minute."

Buffy wanted to protest but she knew he was right. Xander had a way of disarming fiery situations. In fact in the last year or so, he had become very good at it. Perhaps he more than any of them had grown up in the past few years and if there was anyone she trusted with her sister it was Xander. No matter how much their lives had changed in the last six years, some things remained constant. Like the northern star, she thought with a little smile. When they had been battling Adam – the Initiative designed monster, they had learnt they were more than just childhood friends, they were a fellowship that made the Slayer stronger than she had ever possibly been in countless lifetimes. Lately however, it seemed like Xander was closer to unravelling the mysteries of growing up better than any of them and perhaps he could reach Dawn since everything Buffy did these days seemed to upset her.

"Thanks Xander," she offered him a little smile.

Xander crooked a corner of his lips into a rakish smile of his own, the kind that seemed a little embarrassed at being caught out as the responsible one of their group. He could tell that Buffy was hurting as much as Dawn because of her sister’s accusation and tried to say something that dispel that hurt.

"Don’t worry Buff, I’m sure she didn’t mean anything she said," Xander offered confidently before going out the front door.

Buffy wished she could believe him but she knew better because Dawn was right. She had made Spike go away, just not in the manner in which any of them knew. 

***********

In her heart, she knew that Xander was right. It was only a matter of time before the vampire decided to quit town. After all, what did he have here? The others didn’t really like him and no matter what he did for them, Buffy was still mean to him. It infuriated Dawn that they seemed to have forgotten that during the summer when Buffy had not been around, it was mostly he that had kept the demon population in Sunnydale from reaching epic proportions. He had patrolled with the Scoobies and still managed to find time to hang out with her so she would not feel so completely alone. She wiped fresh tears remembering the movies they watched and the popcorn he made while they talked on the couch. She had even fallen asleep on the sofa a couple of times only to find herself in her bed the next morning, with the covers drawn over her.

She had not lied when she called him her only friend.

Suddenly, she looked up and realized that there was no one else save her on the street. A low mist had started to run down the main road, swirling around parking meters and the few cars that lined the pavement. Dawn shuddered because the night felt cold and in California, that was not normal. She swallowed visibly and turned on her heels, deciding the time for her little snit was done and she ought to head back to the Magic Shop. Overhead, the moon was high in the night and its glow bounced off the mist swirling around her legs rather eerily. She swiped her hand in it and saw it curl through the slice of her fingers. It felt cool to the touch and reminded Dawn of those old gothic films where the mist would obscure everything on some lonely street, just before some helpless woman fell prey to whatever waited in its shadows.

Dawn started walking faster.

She looked behind her and saw no one but then it was not really easy to see anybody when the mist had obscured anything more than a few metres away. Her fear became palpable and she broke into a run. Dawn kept throwing her gaze behind her, trying to see if anyone was following and could not understand why she was not nearer to the Magic Shop. She knew she had been more than covered the distance back to the store when suddenly a body standing right in front of her halted her progress. Dawn let out a soft cry as she fell backwards onto her bottom, catching sight of not one pair of feet before her but at least four. She scrambled to her feet as she stared at the group of people before her and let out an exclamation of happiness when she recognised at least one of them.

"SPIKE!" Dawn cried out and jumped to her feet. Without thinking, she threw her arm around him and embraced the vampire hard.

"Hello there Lil’ Bit," Spike smiled coldly as he pulled her arms from around his neck.

"Buffy said you were gone!" She said happily, thrilled that he was still in town.

"Well like so many things, she got that wrong too." Spike retorted sarcastically.

"Why she’s lovely William," the woman standing next to him remarked as she cast an approving eye at Dawn.

Dawn studied her for a moment and wondered who Spike’s new companion was. She certainly left Buffy for dead, Dawn thought to herself because the woman looked like a movie star and dressed that way as well. Dawn remembered how Cordelia used to dress when she had been called Queen C and realised that in comparison, this woman was leagues ahead of the former Sunnydale cheerleader. Her eyes stared at Dawn with such sharp intensity that Dawn immediately began to feel uncomfortable and took a step back for some reason.

"Spike?" Dawn asked nervously. "Who’s she?"

"Now is that any way to behave in front of my lady friend, pet?" Spike asked and Dawn flinched at his gaze because there was something about it was all wrong though she could not put her finger on it. The two men standing behind them were the tallest men that Dawn had ever seen without them being demons and they were all dressed in black.

"Don’t blame the young lady William," the woman smiled at her pleasantly. "She’s just shy around new people am I right, little one?" She took a step forward and extended her gloved hand towards Dawn. "My name is Elizabeth and you are?"

Dawn swallowed nervously, certain that Elizabeth for all her glamour and great beauty was undoubtedly a vampire. "My name is Dawn. How do you know Spike?"

"We just ran into each other pet," Spike replied giving Elizabeth a look that was full of intimacy. "We’re together now."

"Together?" Dawn did not like the sound of that one bit.

"Yeah," he took Elizabeth’s hand in his and raised it to his lips. Pulling the glove down her wrist, he kissed the skin tenderly so that Dawn would not mistake the nature of their relationship. "Together."

"I thought you loved Buffy…" she started to stammer.

"Now I couldn’t wait for her forever could I, Dawn?" Spike gave her a reproachful stare. "I mean sooner or later she was going to toss me aside or stake me, whichever came first."

"She wouldn’t do that," Dawn defended her sister even though she could not say for certain that Buffy would not.

"Dawn!" A new voice broke through the night and Dawn was never more grateful to hear Xander’s approach.

"Ah," Elizabeth smiled, giving Spike a look of pure love. "More friends?"

"I wouldn’t say that." Spike retorted, about to enjoy the spectacle that would follow when the whelp finally reached them.

"Over here!" Spike called out into the darkness.

Xander appeared a short time later and stopped short at the sight of Spike. "Hey Spike," he greeted with some measure of surprise. "Buffy said you cleared your stuff out and left town."

"I found something to stay for," Spike glanced at Elizabeth.

Xander found himself staring at the vision of beauty next to him and found Spike’s reasons for remaining in Sunnydale rather compelling. He could not get enough of staring at her as she cast her eyes into his and took a one-way ticket straight to his heart and soul. He could smell the intoxicating aroma of roses and he was certain that the scent came from her skin. He wondered what it would be like to run one’s fingers against its creamy smoothness, to savour the perfection of her flesh against his own.

"I can see that," he muttered softly, feeling suddenly jealous that Spike should have a claim on such a magnificent creature.

"Xander," Dawn tugged at his arm, suddenly gripped with this feeling of foreboding as Xander stared at Elizabeth transfixed. "Xander, we have to be going."

"Sure," Xander replied not really listening, his eyes were still fixed on Elizabeth and not at all eager to turn away.

"Xander?" Elizabeth whispered. "I like that, it slides off the tongue. Is it short for Alexander?"

"Yeah," Xander found himself chuckling nervously, the way he used to around Faith and Buffy when he had first met her. "Go figure."

"And are you like him, aren’t you?" She took a step closer to him, her scent filling up his lungs until he could not breathe without taking her deeper into himself. "You’re not a warrior but you conquer women with just as much ease. I can feel what draws them to you."

"Really?" Xander swallowed. "Cause I kind of washed out in high school. I went to the prom with an ex-vengeance demon and only because she asked me." He was rambling.

"Real smooth Xander," Spike rolled his eyes. "Are you sure about taking him? He’s human."

"We need humans," Elizabeth replied smoothly, not at all concerned by Spike’s objections. "Wouldn’t you like me to need you Xander?"

"Yes," Xander nodded and snapped whatever restraint Dawn had been holding back until now.

"Xander!" Dawn called out, trying to snap him out of his stupor but whatever this spell was that he was under, he did not appear to be coming out of it anytime soon.

"Go home little one," Elizabeth turned to her with full vampire visage. "Go home or I’ll take you with me for a little snack."

"Spike!" Dawn screamed in fright before she stared at Spike, unable to believe that he was allowing this to happen. "Do something!"

"I am doing something," Spike smiled as he lit a cigarette and watched Xander fall deeper into Elizabeth’s eyes. "Just like he said - I’m getting myself a girlfriend."

***********

 Even though to those around her, it appeared as if Anya was busily counting the day’s takings and then adding the appropriate figures into her computerized bookkeeping system, the 1000-year-old vengeance demon’s attention was on anything but her profits for the day. Although she knew she was being foolish and Xander was probably having a deep and meaningful conversation with Dawn beyond the walls of the establishment, Anya could not help but wonder such a discussion could not take place indoors. After all, Xander as capable as he was, was no Slayer and there were things out there in the night that could harm him as well as Dawn.

She glanced at the doorway for what was the hundredth time, barely hearing the distant voices of Buffy and Willow as they discussed the pros and cons of Spike departure and what that would mean to her workload as the slayer. Personally, Anya was of the belief that Spike was not all that bad. In fact, she could understand him to a degree. She too had fallen in love with a human and was willing to sacrifice all for that person. Fortunately, Xander had been a good deal more forgiving than Xander and Anya could not see why she found him so objectionable, after all, he had proven himself time and time again. The Scoobies reaction to Spike made Anya sometimes wonder why she was treated so differently. In her first encounter with the Scoobies, she had altered the world where more than one of them was dead. What made her so different from Spike that she should be taken into the fold while he and outcast?

The question served only to distract her momentarily and as she glanced at the clock once more and then at the door which did not look as if it was going to open any time soon, Anya felt the same trepidation gnawing at her. Buffy and Willow seemed oblivious and she resisted the urge to substitute the word oblivious for self-absorbed even though lately, they had both been exhibiting classic symptoms of the malaise. Neither seemed to care that the world outside them was imploding, Buffy with Dawn and probably Spike as well and Willow with Tara and the dangers of magic.

Finally, she could stand it no more and at the risk of saying the wrong thing again, she spoke up, "is anyone going to check up on…."

She never had the chance to complete the sentence because Dawn came bursting through the door, breathing hard with clear panic on her face. Her fear sent everyone into motion with Buffy and Willow leaving their seats and hurrying towards her while Anya did the same, rounding the corner of the counter to ask her why Xander was not with her.

"Buffy! Xander’s in trouble!" The young girl cried out answering Anya’s unspoken question.

"What do you mean Xander’s in trouble?" Anya asked before anyone else could

"There was this woman, I’m sure she was a vampire, she made him go all swoony…" Dawn stuttered as she tried to explain to the others how she had tried to pull Xander away from Elizabeth only to have him stand there hardly aware that she was even present, let alone capable of hearing a word she had said. "And Spike just stood there, he didn’t do anything!"

"Spike!" Buffy found her voice and it escaped in a strangled gasp. "What do you mean Spike?"

"Spike was there!" Dawn insisted. "He said that she was his new girlfriend! He just stood there and let her put Xander under some kind of a spell."

Buffy felt her worse nightmare unfolding as she heard Dawn’s frantic words and knew that for Dawn to think that Spike could be capable of allowing Xander to get hurt, the evidence must be quite damning. Buffy tried not to show that she was shaken to the core, that the fear that she had lived with since Spike had come to be mean more to her than just a lover, suddenly became a reality she had no wish to face again. It had been bad enough with Angel and something told her that if she had to kill Spike the way she had sent Angel to hell, she too, would be going into her own private inferno. However, baser instincts prevailed - this was not the time to dwell on her feelings because Xander needed her help.

"Where are they?" She asked shortly already making her way towards the door.

"They were just up the street," Dawn started to follow her when Buffy halted in mid-step. "Dawn I need you to stay here."

"Buffy no…" Dawn started to protest but Buffy cut her off.

"Dawn I don’t have time to argue with you, stay here with Willow." Buffy ordered again in that voice that tolerated no argument, not even from her baby sister.

Dawn felt silent and Buffy cast a look at Willow to keep her sister safe before hurrying out the door.

***********

She had stepped into the night air when she realized that Anya was following her much to her shock.

"Anya!" Buffy exclaimed. "You need to get inside where it’s safe!"

"Not while Xander is out here!" Anya answered defiantly, falling into step with the purposeful slayer who was striding down the street to meet the enemy and save her friend.

"Anya," Buffy replied wearily. "I don’t know how many of them are there and if Spike’s with them, I may not be able to protect you!"

"I don’t care!" Anya snapped. "I’m not going back okay?"

Buffy swore under her breath but did not wish to waste valuable time trying to convince her otherwise, especially when Buffy did not think she could. Besides if it was her fiancé out there, Buffy did not think she would be able to wait it out either nor be ordered by someone else to do so. Continuing down the street, they both watched in anticipation of running into the vampire that Dawn had claimed she saw. There were traces of what appeared to be a light mist over everything but it seemed to be dissipating as they moved through it. As they hastened their pace, the expectation of finding Xander and those who might have taken him, began to give way for the confusion. Dawn could not have left that long ago. It took time for vampires to do their grisly work and the thrall they could sometimes place their victims could not be prolonged long enough for the victim to go willingly with them. The only vampire that Buffy knew was capable of doing that was Dracula and the woman Dawn had described was certainly not him.

"Where is he?" Anya demanded clearly afraid when they reached the end of the street and there was no sign of either the vampires or her fiancé.

"I don’t know," Buffy muttered, her eyes scanning the surrounding areas while her senses sought out the enemy and found nothing. It was bewildering. Were they attempting to use Xander to get to her? That was certainly a possibility but it had been quiet in Sunnydale the past few days other than the Nerds of Doom. Kidnapping Dawn was one thing but allying themselves with companions who were clearly vampires was beyond them.

"Why would they take him?" Anya asked growing more afraid by the minute at what might have befallen her husband to be.

Buffy wished she had some answers for the terrified woman but she did not. As she swept her gaze across the street and felt the chill of its emptiness, she could feel a shift in the wind. There had been little in the way of the Big Bad all year round. Normally, some malevolent force would find its way to Sunnydale, using it as a launch point to rule the world, tear down dimensional barriers or even ascend to some demon plane of existence but this year, there had been the notable absence of a such a threat. Not that Buffy minded but she had been poised waiting for it to arrive and something about this whole situation with Xander gave Buffy the impression that whatever the Big Bad she had been expecting to come, it was finally here.

She just hoped Xander would survive its arrival.

***********

There was a part of Spike that remained immune to the soft voice of Elizabeth, his new paramour. It was only a tiny fragment of self, neither human nor demon that lay buried inside of him where none could see, that rebelled against the warm comfort that she offered. If called upon to name what this mysterious entity that lived inside him was, Spike would find himself at a loss to explain its existence even though of late, he suspected that it was probably what made him so unique among vampires. After all, no other of his kind other than he was able to fall in love with a human and care for them more than any vampire should. Angel did not count because he was a vampire with a soul; an aberration even more unusual than Spike himself.

Spike watched Xander following Elizabeth like a puppy and felt a twinge of something the demon inside of him suppressed almost immediately. It was obvious that Elizabeth planned on turning him as she had so many since her emergence from her prison in Translyvania. The human had fallen completely under her spell and had hardly uttered a word of resistance when the lovely vampire suggested that he accompany them back to the lair. It was a wise decision because Dawn would surely have alerted Buffy to what was going on and it did not suit Elizabeth’s plans to face the Slayer just yet. Spike’s feelings about Buffy were surprising indifferent now. The connection between them felt very far away, non-existent almost and Spike could not say that he was sad to see its end. He had been her whipping boy long enough.

They had left the main street quickly, turning into an alley where Elizabeth’s car awaited them. The vehicle like the woman was elegant although Spike preferred his De Soto to the stolid perfection of the Rolls. However, whatever Elizabeth wanted was fine by him. As she neared the car, one of her minions immediately held the door open for her while the others slipped into the driver’s seat. Only, Spike and Xander were allowed to travel in the backseat with them, while the other two were relegated to the front. Xander did not offer any resistance as he sat across Elizabeth, watching her as if she were a vision of beauty that would disappear the instant he took his eyes away from her. What would Anya think? Spike thought snidely and then remembered that he liked Anya. She was a decent enough girl for a vengeance demon….

Stop it.

His demon growled inside his mind.

Wasn’t it enough that you were the Slayer’s bitch for the last two years, do you have to get soppy about the rest of them too?

Spike recoiled at the vehemence in that voice and he also remembered how miserable he had been since becoming neutered and almost all that despair rested solely at the feet of the so-called Scoobies, Xander most of all. Buffy was just plain confused but this hypocritical bastard who found a vengeance demon good enough to shag but a vampire too good to keep in their company even after he had been fighting alongside them all summer, he deserved whatever was coming to him. If it were not for the chip, he would almost be tempted to do Xander himself.

Don’t, William.

Once again that annoying little mystery voice whispered through the darkness from its secret hiding place.

Don’t let this happen.

Spike shrugged and ignored it, letting his demon suppress the voice into the abyss once more. However, he frowned that the desire to bite Xander was not as intense as it had been when the thought crossed his mind initially. He returned his gaze to Elizabeth who was watching her new acquisition closely, studying him like he was something under a microscope. Fortunately, her eyes were devoid of the affection she aimed in his direction and Spike felt instantly grateful for that. He would just die if she toyed with his affections the way Buffy had. He had quite enough of being used by member of the opposite sex for a dozen lifetimes.

"Are you planning on turning him?" Spike asked, needing to know what it was she had planned for Xander.

"Eventually," she offered him a warm smile and Spike wondered how a creature whose ability to generate heat had died the moment she turned into a vampire was capable of warming the room like a furnace and making him feel like he was burning up under the skin. "I sense that this one has been an agent for one of us before."

"Yeah," Spike nodded, remembering the whole debacle with Dracula. "Dracula was here a year ago, he used him."

"Ah…" Elizabeth nodded in understanding. "And how is Vlad these days? Still scaring the little girls with his Romany parlor tricks?"

"More or less," Spike retorted. "I take it you knew him?"

"He amused me for a time," she replied and noted the frown on his face, which drew a delighted chuckle from him as she leaned forward and kissed him gently, her lips melting over his own and sending a jolt of desire through Spike.

"Will you toss me aside once I’m done amusing you?" Spike found himself asking despite the tantalizing taste of her mouth.

"You need never be jealous of anyone parlaying for my affections William," she drew back and smiled at him with genuine affection. "I did not choose you to be one of my foot soldiers the way I chose this one. I let you take me because I wanted to be taken and because I sense something unique inside of you, something unexpected."

"And that is?" He cocked a brow and looked at her.

"I’m not certain," she narrowed her eyes as she eased back into her seat staring. "You are something of an anomaly, something that should not be but is. I like to find out what that is and if that means we should spend eternity together while I try to unravel your secrets, I cannot think of a more pleasant way to pass the time."

"And him?" Spike stared at Xander who still wore that insipid look of adoration on his face as he continued to stare at Elizabeth.

"We require a human agent while we are in this locality," she responded. "For the moment, he will do. I very well cannot send you or my minions out during the daylight can I? I will let him prepare the way for me in this town and when I no longer need his services, then I will turn him. Isn’t that right Alexander?"

"Whatever you say Elizabeth," Xander said dreamily.

"You see?" Elizabeth turned to Spike with a smile. "Completely malleable to my needs as well as having the added bonus of being friend to the Slayer."

"You plan on killing the Slayer?" Something about that made Spike uncomfortable even though he knew it should not. He had no loyalty to her, not any more.

Elizabeth’s expression hardened like granite and for the first time those liquid eyes suddenly had the consistency of molten lava. "Killing her is the last thing I have in mind for the Chosen One. By the time I’m done with her, she will beg me to kill her. I have waited four centuries for my vengeance William and I will have it. I don’t care what face she wears, the Slayer will pay for what she did to me."

Chapter Three
The Big Bad

There was little to be done following their discovery that Xander was gone. Buffy and Anya chose to search nonetheless, more out of hope than any real possibility of finding it. The vengeance demon needed to exhaust all avenues of search before she could admit that for the moment, Xander Harris was beyond them. Buffy’s thoughts were silent because she could only think of what a fool she had been. How could she for one moment, think that he was no longer a threat to her? She had allowed her lustful desires for Spike cloud her judgement and because of this lapse, Xander was now in the hands of an enemy she had no idea where to find. The only consolation to be had, if any in all this, was the fact that none of her friends except Tara that is, knew about the relationship. Considering what they knew now about Spike, Buffy could not bear their anger at finding out just how close she had become with the vampire.

Finally, there was little alternative but to return to the Magic Shop so that they could regroup and decide what to do next. Buffy was in favour of going back to Spike’s crypt and pummelling him senseless so that he would reveal Xander’s whereabouts, right before she staked him through his black heart. However, she suspected that he might not return there because even chipped, Spike was one of the most formidable vampires she had ever encountered. He would not be foolish enough to return there because she would almost certainly find him. No, wherever Spike was now, it was not at his crypt. No doubt he was probably in some new lair with the vampire Dawn had seen him with. Buffy supposed she ought to be grateful that he did not try to harm Dawn but then Xander might have prevented her from coming to any danger so she could not be certain of that even.

It did not matter Buffy decided as they entered the Magic Shop. Spike had crossed the line and that was all that was to it. He had placed her friends in danger and from that, there was no turning back. It was time she did what she never had stomach enough to do until now. It was time to end him. Besides, it was hardly the first time she had been called upon to perform such duty and as there had been no thinking twice on that other occasion, there would be no hesitation in this instance as well. Perhaps if she told herself this enough times, she might even believe it.

"Where’s Xander?" Dawn asked the minute her sister reappeared inside the small store.

"We didn’t find him," Buffy replied and saw Anya’s shoulders slumping at her words. The former demon crossed the floor and returned to the space behind the counter. She resumed working on her accounts silently, yet there was something mechanical in her movements which indicated to those present that she was trying to occupy herself with something to keep herself from descending into panic at the welfare of her fiancée.

"They took him?" Willow asked, her eyes reflecting her confusion.

"We think so," Buffy nodded. "There was no sign of anything." She did not want to use the word ‘body’ for Anya and Dawn’s sakes.

"It was her," Dawn said angrily. "I’ll bet she made him go with her and Spike too."

"Her?" Buffy turned to her sister. "What could you tell about her Dawn? Other than the fact that she was a vamp because I don’t seem to remember them being able to make people go all swoony, other than Dracula that is," she said uncomfortably, not wishing to think too much about how she had once been caught by the famous vampires’ thrall.

Dawn drifted to the table in the centre of the room, thinking deeply about the strange woman she had seen with Spike before lowering herself into the seat with contemplation. "She was super pretty," Dawn replied first because that was the impression that remained most with her. "I don’t mean just pretty like cheerleader pretty, I mean movie star pretty. She was like the actress in that Zorro movie, remember?"

Buffy did remember the movie but in truth when they had all gone to see it the only she had remembered was Antonio Banderas, she had not paid much attention to the leading lady. Her sexual preferences were not that directed that way.

"I remember," Willow said with an embarrassed smile and noted the look the others gave her before retorting defensively. "Hello, gay remember?"

"What else?" Buffy asked, shaking her head, not thinking the vampire’s physical appearance to be of that much importance although she could not deny a sliver of jealousy that Spike had left her for a dazzlingly beautiful woman.

"You should have seen him slobbering all over her," Dawn retorted with disgust and did not catch the wince that appeared briefly on Buffy’s face. "It was enough to make you sick and then Spike was like so into her. He even said that they were together now."

"Maybe she wasn’t a vampire," Anya suggested hopefully, not wanting to face the possibility that there was every chance that it was already too late for Xander, that this female vampire could have turned him. "Maybe she was some other demon."

"No," Dawn discounted the possibility almost immediately. "She was a vamp, I’m sure of it and not a new one either. I think she’s like been around for a long time. She wasn’t alone, she had like two of them with her and they looked like her bodyguards or something."

"What about Spike?" Buffy asked. "Did he tried to hurt you?"

"No," she shook her head, a troubled expression on his face. "I don’t think he would have hurt me but it didn’t seem like we were friends anymore and what was even stranger, she was nice."

"Nice?" Buffy’s brow arched, unable to think of any vampire barring one who had somehow regained his soul capable of that personality trait.

"Well she didn’t try to bite me or anything and even when she was talking to Xander, she wasn’t trying to hurt him. She kept saying these weird things to him, playing this whole seduction act, if you get what I mean."

"Seduction?" Anya’s voice tightened visibly. "What do you mean?"

"It goes back to that whole swoony thing," Dawn replied, wishing she could explain it better. "It's like she could make them do what they want by just listening to her."

"Glory had that kind of power," Willow reminded.

"No," Dawn shook her head immediately and discounted that characterisation. She had been in Glory’s company for long enough to know that her minions worshipped her out of fear, nothing else. They knew she was a Goddess and could not imagine behaving in any other way than with complete obedience. "Glory’s trolls were afraid of her. Xander and Spike weren’t. It was like they were so in love with her. I’m telling you she’s got them under some kind of spell."

"Maybe that’s why Spike just decided to up and leave," Willow suggested, glancing at Buffy.

"Yeah probably," the slayer said quietly not about to say otherwise if that’s what her friend believed. Besides, it served better than the truth. Buffy did not want to think about her personal issues right now, not when there were more important things to deal with. "We need to find out who she is and fast. I’m going down to Willy’s bar and see if knows anything about a new vamp in town. Willow, see what you can find about a vampire named Elizabeth?"

"Okay," Willow said purposefully, reaching for the laptop she stored at the magic shop for research. "You’re going out alone?" She asked concerned as she saw Buffy heading towards the door.

"Yeah," Buffy nodded, not requiring the company for what was clearly going to be an exercise in intimidation when she arrived at Willy’s. "You guys need to stay here in case there’s any word."

"And that’s it?" Anya demanded, speaking for the first time since their return to the store. "We’re just going to sit here and wait for his body to show up?"

"Anya!" Buffy snapped, seeing the corresponding expression of horror on Dawn’s face at that statement. "We have no idea where he is. We can’t help him if we don’t find out."

"This is all your fault!" Anya spat angrily, her fear for Xander forcing her to succumb to her worst instincts.

"My fault?" Buffy stared at her in astonishment at how this could be construed as her fault! She had not caused Elizabeth to kidnap Xander. She could not even begin to imagine how Anya could say that it was and tried to remind herself that Anya was frightened and lashing out. She had to be patient. That reasoning lasted for as long as it took for Anya to utter her next words.

"If you had just staked Spike in the beginning, none of this would have happened!" Anya continued, tears running down her face. "He’s the reason this vampire found Xander!"

Buffy did not know what to say. In all honesty, she was rather dumbstruck by the accusation, not to mention terribly hurt. The guilt that had been gnawing at her since she had learnt Spike had gone back to his old ways, swelled inside of her like a tidal and once again, she felt like a fool for allowing herself to care about him so that he could do this to her. Hadn’t she learnt her lesson from Angel? Buffy could not refute anything that Anya had said and so she merely stood there, shaking from the impact of former demon’s words, against her battered insides.

"Hey, back off!"

The forceful intervention snapped Buffy back to the present and she looked up to see Dawn putting herself before Anya and her. Dawn’s expression was nothing less than furious as she glared at Anya and for a brief second, Buffy could very well believe that Dawn was capable of bringing down the dimensional barriers by sheer force of will.

"Buffy had nothing to do with this!" Dawn defended her sister with the ferocity of a young lioness protecting one of her pack. "And she’s the one whose going to be risking her life to make it right! She wasn’t the one that made Xander follow that vamp and Spike has helped us more than enough times in the past to not deserve staking! Can’t you see he’s just as swoony over this Elizabeth as Xander is? We don’t just have to save Xander, we have to snap them both out of this spell or whatever she has them under, right?" She looked over her shoulder at Willow for support in her argument.

"Right," Willow said with a smile, unable to hide how proud she was of Dawn for coming to Buffy’s defence as she had.

Anya turned away in the face of that strong rebuke and started to weep, not because she had nothing to say in return but because her emotions had finally given way and she knew that she had spoken out of turn and unfairly. Her shoulders sagged even further and Buffy could hear the sob starting to escape her.

"Anya," Buffy hurried across the floor of the room, pausing long enough to give Dawn a look of pure love at what she had said before placing a gentle hand on her friend’s shoulder.

"I’m sorry Buffy," Anya turned around at the contact, her face streaming with tears. "I’m just so scared."

"I can deal," Buffy said understanding all too well. She had remembered going crazy on several occasions when she thought Angel was in trouble. "Anya, we’ll find him. I promise you."

And she would, Buffy thought resolutely to herself. If she had to tear Sunnydale apart, she was going to find Xander.

***********

Spike gazed across the floor of the luxurious mansion that Elizabeth had called her own at the vacant expression of Xander Harris. The whelp had been wearing the same steady mask since he had set eyes upon Elizabeth and did not appear to have any will to diminish his open adoration of the female vampire. Spike wondered if Elizabeth’s effect was more powerful on humans than on her own kind since Xander seemed capable of doing nothing without her bidding and Spike still had some semblance of self.

Of course, what he felt for Elizabeth was real while the others were merely enchanted by the allure of her incredible beauty.

He tore his eyes away from Xander who was seated on the embroidered divan and swept his gaze across the lodgings that Elizabeth had acquired herself upon arriving in Sunnydale. The house was very expensive and appeared to have been acquired by wholly legitimate means for there was not the scent of a dead or freshly killed body on sight. It was one of those old rambling mansions with extensive gardens, high walls and more rooms than anyone would have time to use in a lifetime. Expensive paintings hung on the designer furnished home and the windows in the room he was presently occupying which would have been called a parlour back in his day, offered a pleasant view of the manicured grounds.

Certainly a far cry from the musty old crypt he thought and then felt a pang of longing for the days when it was all posh finery for him. He and Dru had stayed at some of the best places in Europe, travelling like aristocrats from one corner of the Old World to the next, London, Paris, Prague, Moscow, times had been good back then. He tried not to think about the places he had seen since returning to Sunnydale or the disappointment his life had been since the chip. However, now there was a chance for all that to change because Elizabeth was making it possible once more. She was giving him his dignity back and he was going to be the creature that he was meant to be, not this useless parody of a vampire, clinging to the memory that he had once been somebody.

No more though, he thought with more satisfaction than he had felt in a long time. He could feel the shift in the wind that things for him were changing and soon everyone in Sunnydale who had the audacity to think that he was weak and helpless would soon learn otherwise. There was none of that human foolishness that had been such a burden upon his psyche lingering in his mind. Humans were food for the slaughter, nothing else. Certainly not objects of his affection. He wondered though what Elizabeth's intentions were in Sunnydale. Of this, he knew little. He knew that she hated the Slayer but then there were not many vampires who would not, excepting himself and the poof although he was becoming less attached to her the more he remained in Elizabeth’s presence he noticed.

However, her hatred of the Slayer was more than just the usual disdain between hunter and the hunted but something more personal. He had inquired into what was at the heart of this cold hatred but she would not speak of it and he wondered how a vampire as old as she, her estimation had been vague being somewhere in the 300 to 400-year mark. That made her older than Darla and slightly younger than Dracula. Spike could tell that there was some history between the two Transylvanians and Spike wondered if Dracula had been Elizabeth’s sire. She seemed to know all his ‘Romany’ tricks as she put it and had acquired a few herself.

"How are you and my new little pet getting along William?" She asked as she entered the room, her bodyguards absent because she had sent them out to hunt.

"He hasn’t said much," Spike muttered giving Xander a look. "But then he wasn’t that bloody interesting to begin with. Are you sure we need him?" Spike asked again, not at all comfortable with Xander for being here and hating himself because of it. "There are more useful humans out there."

"But none with ties as close to the Slayer," she pointed out. "You were the one who brought me to her William, I do not see the hesitation now."

"I thought you were going to kill her and be done with it," he remarked. "I didn’t know you were going to be collecting a menagerie."

"Oh William," Elizabeth smiled as she rested next Xander on the divan and immediately received a dreamy smile from the human. "I will rid you of that bane soon enough but I have plans for the Slayer that involved slightly more than vengeance. Revenge is sweet but I had other reasons for coming to Sunnydale as well."

"Like?" He asked.

"Well the Hellmouth for one," Elizabeth smiled. "There is a veritable fountain of exploitation."

"What you mean with opening it up and bringing on the end of the world? That sort of thing?" Spike asked, unable to deny wishing her plans were a little more original than that. What is it with this pointless desire to bring about the end of the world? Vampires ruled supreme here as creatures of the night, what point was there of increasing the competition by allowing the denizens of the Hellmouth to invade the food chain as well? It made little sense.

"Not at all," she looked at him with a slight pout to her lips that he could think her so unimaginative. "I like this world William, it’s a delightful place but it requires a woman’s touch. I don’t wish to destroy it, I want to rule it."

"Opening the Hellmouth will get you that?" Spike looked at her sceptically.

"The trick to controlling a thing is having some say to its opening and its closing," Elizabeth stared at him. "I want to open the Hellmouth but those on the other side will have to keep me well compensated to keep it open."

Spike merely stared at her in shock. Of all the schemes he had ever heard in regards to Hellmouth, this was a first. "You plan on being some kind of demon gatekeeper?"

"Crudely put but yes," she replied coolly. "The hosts of hell will pay handsomely for me to keep their access to the hell mouth open."

"Handsomely as in money?" Spike looked at her unable to imagine that such an undertaking was for the purpose of money.

"Money?" Elizabeth scoffed openly, her brows shot up in surprise at the suggestion. "I have no need for money, I acquire such things easily enough without the use of complicated spells. No, what I want is power and the hosts within the Hellmouth will provide me with enough to be master of everything. I almost succeeded the last time I made the attempt, if not for the interference of the Slayer."

"Yeah," Spike nodded. "Killing one slayer won’t stop another one from coming after you and any nasties you let through the Hellmouth. They get called almost immediately after the last one dies."

"True," Elizabeth agreed. "So perhaps what is required is the elimination of that role altogether."

"I don’t understand," he replied. The human in him was repulsed with horror at the possibility while the demon delighted in it. Spike knew that his heart was unconditionally Elizabeth’s, that Buffy was the thing of the past and yet something inside him felt anxious at the woman’s suggestion.

"Its very simple William," Elizabeth sat forward in her chair as if she were explaining things to a child. "In every generation is born a slayer, one girl in all the world to fight the vampires, am I right? Is that how that dull diatribe of theirs goes?"

"I think so," Spike muttered, recalling the speech that Giles often launched into whenever he was called upon to describe the nature of the slayer in any shape or form. Like every member of the Scoobies, Spike had the whole thing mesmerised by now.

"You ever wonder why that is?" Elizabeth asked.

"What?" Spike did not follow her. "Why there is a slayer?"

"No," she shook her head. "What makes them keep resurrecting the title in another girl after the last one has died. The slayers, they’re human, all of them. Yet when one dies, another follows. There is something at work here, something that is in all of them and leaves the Slayer once the body dies and moves on to the next acceptable host or if you would believe those dim-witted Watchers, another chosen one."

Spike had never thought about it that way before. He believed that the Slayers were created by some cosmic power that counted itself on the side of good. There was a time when the difference between good and bad was categorised by what was human and demon, however, this was no longer the case. Not all demons sought destruction and chaos, some worked for the Powers on the side of good, most notably the poof. Vampires and a slew of others relished the darkness in every way and constantly fought to tip the balance of the world in the favour of evil. It was only natural that there would be a force in existence that would oppose them, this being, of course, the Slayers. He had never questioned what it was that made them so unique, believing them only to be a creature of the dark like the demons they fought.

"And you know what that is?" Spike asked, realising that Elizabeth’s hatred was not merely confined to the slayer she had encountered that inspired her vengeance but to all slayers everywhere and possibly to those yet to be.

"I believe it has to do with the original slayer," Elizabeth remarked. "I have had time to study their histories and I believe the source of every slayer’s power is a residue of the original, the first slayer. I think that she has never truly passed on, that upon the death of the whatever body she inhabits, she moves on."

"But there are two now," Spike pointed out, finding the flaw in her theory. "There was some kind of accident when the Slayer here in Sunnydale died for a few seconds and another one was called. Doesn’t that kind of shoot holes in your idea?"

"No," Elizabeth said confidently, "the essence is still one but divided. I have no doubt that if one of the two were too die, the slayer would become stronger."

"So what do you intend to do?" Spike asked.

"When the times comes and I open the Hellmouth, I will ensure that whatever this infection that chooses to call itself the Slayer, will be destroyed once and for all," Elizabeth replied with such cold rage in her voice that it made Spike shudder a little from hearing it. However, the ugly mask lasted only briefly before she turned to Xander who had been silent throughout this exchange, clearly trapped in the stupor of desire that Elizabeth had ensnared him.

"Now my dear Xander," she smiled sweetly, no trace of the former unpleasantness showing on her lovely features. "Tell me what you know about the Slayer."

"Me?" Xander burst into a nervous titter. "I know everything about the Buffster, just ask me. I’ve been there since she arrived in Sunnydale, stayed through the whole Angel phase, picked up the pieces after Riley left but not doing too good in the resurrection stakes, she seems to like being around Spike more than her friends now."

Elizabeth raised her eyes and met Spike’s like sharp points. He had led her to the Slayer but he had not told her that their relationship was that close. "Really? How is that?"

"If you want to know, just ask me," Spike replied before it appeared as if he was holding anything back from her.

"I’m asking him," she said just as sweetly but there was ice in her voice. "Now Xander, you were saying?"

Spike frowned and inside him a battle raged between the human and demon. The human half was struggling to make its presence felt, to force him into stopping Xander from giving too much away while his demon was determined to let Elizabeth have her way. Underlying all this was a weakness to his psyche that he had never felt before. His ability to think beyond Elizabeth was difficult and each time he thought this might be wrong, that he was hurting Buffy, the lingering fragrance of her skin would assault his senses and any resistance he had would bleed. After a while, he wondered why he had ever troubled himself in the first place.

"I know all of the Buffster’s secrets," Xander continued to spill forth without pause. "Just ask me anything."

"Tell me about her family? Does she have any?" Elizabeth asked once more, her sweet voice had taken a hint of menace as she spoke.

"Sure, there as her mom but she died last year," Xander answered without any idea of the damage he was doing which each word that escaped him. "Her father ran off with his secretary and I don’t think Buffy knows where he is."

"How unfortunate," Elizabeth frowned and Spike knew that she was looking for something she could use.

"And there’s Dawn her sister."

Elizabeth’s eyes flew open. "You mean that delightful child we met earlier?" She asked, her voice very low as she made the demand.

"Yeah," Xander nodded. "You met her."

She turned her gaze slowly to Spike and stared at him for a time. Spike shifted uncomfortably under her penetrating eyes and felt guilty that he had held back from Elizabeth that Dawn’s was the Slayer’s sister.

"Leave us," she ordered Xander immediately.

"Sure thing," Xander stood up mechanically. "Where do I go?"

"Go home," she ordered sharply.

"You’re turning him loose?" Spike exclaimed.

"He is of no use to me at this time," she replied coldly before standing up and facing Xander once more. "You are to go home and pretend as if nothing has happened. Give no indication to the Slayer that your loyalty is mine and tell her nothing about this place. You will come to me in the morning and we’ll discuss more intimately what you are to do for me."

She punctuated the end of this sentence by pressing her mouth to his, her hand snaking around his head to draw him into a passionate kiss. Spike watched their mouth claiming one another with rising jealousy but he held back his anger for he had lied to her and deserved the punishment. When she pulled away from Xander after what seemed like an eternity of time, the human barely had trouble standing up. He swallowed thickly, his expression one of flustered arousal.

"I’ll be here," he whispered. "Even if I have to crawl here. I’ll come to you Elizabeth."

"Good," Elizabeth smiled. "Now go home Alexander, I will have need of your tomorrow."

With that Xander walked out of the room obediently, leaving Elizabeth and Spike alone. Her gaze which was once warm and fluid had suddenly become as hard as stone. He swore her eyes were like points of flint and he knew that she was furious with him but was unaccustomed to venting her rage. He wondered why he had not told her about Dawn and cursed his human side venomously for allowing compassion to seep into his being where it had no right to be.

"You held back," she looked at Spike with an angry glare.

"Yeah," Spike could not find it in himself to life. "I did."

"Why?" Elizabeth demanded. "She is just a human, a puny little girl who shares the same blood as the Slayer, why did you not give her to me. I would have shown you such pleasure for it."

"I don’t know," Spike confessed, deciding that any attempts to lie would only be found out. After all, she was capable of drilling right through his skin and finding his weaknesses. What point was there to hide the truth from her? "I cared about her?"

"About that child?" Elizabeth stared at him in surprise.

"Yeah," he nodded slowly. "She didn’t judge me. She didn’t care that I was a vampire, just that I was her friend."

For a moment, Elizabeth did not speak. Spike felt his stomach knot in anticipation of what she was going to say and he was certain that when she did speak that it would be to revile him because of his affection for a human being. He could not imagine that a vampire such as her would think any differently and he felt his inside cringing at the coming rebuke and the loss of her affection.

‘You are a veritable fountain of surprise are you not William?" She smiled placing a hand on her face. "And you loved the Slayer, didn’t you? You loved her with all your heart and she rejected you."

"Yes," Spike swallowed, wondering why he was admitting all this to her. He did not want to and there was a part of him that was screaming at him to stop revealing all his vulnerabilities as he was.

"You just want to be loved don’t you William?" She straddled him across the legs and slid her arms around his neck. She did not wait for him to answer and captured his mouth in a heated kiss but this was nothing like what she had bestowed upon Xander a moment ago. This was hot and passionate, alluring and irresistible. He felt his senses flooded with the sensation of her. He could feel her against his skin, taste her in his mouth and smell her in his lungs. She became his world for a few minutes as she drove everything away and all he could do was remain trapped in her power, without any will of his own to extricate himself from this delirium she had placed him.

"I will love you, William," she whispered in his ear and her sharp teeth grazed his neck and forced him to pull her closer to him until their bodies ground together scandalously and she could feel the intensity of his desire. "I will make you forget her and you will never feel unwanted again."

"God yeah," he groaned as he felt her teeth teasing his skin with a mix of pleasure and pain, a devastating combination no vampire could ever resist. "I’ll do anything you want," he muttered back. "Anything. Just don’t leave me. Don’t make me go away."

"I won’t William," Elizabeth replied seductively and had to admit that she meant it. She would keep him with her because she enjoyed him immensely and perhaps works some magic to remove that damned contraption in his head that kept him from being what he truly was; a creature of the night. "And I swear that for your aid in helping me deal with the Slayer, I will reward you with a little more than what you are going to receive tonight."

Spike was not listening, he was lost in the pleasure of her hands exploring his body, tearing his shirt and his jacket away from his skin until the cool air of the night breathed over his bare chest. He knew she had spoken but the words were far away and vague so he merely nodded slowly, so that she knew he was in some control of his senses.

"If you are very good William," she said huskily as she lowered him to the divan. "I will reward you with a very special gift. Since you like little Dawn so much, I will give her to you. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a little pet?"

Spike did not care to answer because he was completely lost but he had to say something and so the words tumbled past his lips without his even being aware of his answer.

"Yeah," he nodded. "A little pet Dawn would be nice."

***********

Although Buffy would never openly admit it, she had to confess that Willy’s bar was the place she had learnt more about demonkind then from any book that Giles might have had in his possession. In truth, the bar was little more than a seedy dive, with backrooms for private poker games and dimly lit corner booths for patrons who did not which to be seen in the light. It was located in a part of town, no sensible human without a monumental death wish would even consider traversing when the sun had set. Angel had introduced her to the bar during her second year of residence in Sunnydale, citing it as a good place to acquire information about the demon world.

Its value to her as a learning experience however, came from the fact that in this place, Buffy learnt that not all demons had aspirations for killing and mayhem. Some actually had productive lives, going about their existence as any normal person on the street might, suppressing their natural tendencies to remain anonymous among the human population. She learnt that Willy’s bar was only one stopover in an entire subculture of demonkind that she had never thought existed and was certain the Watcher’s Council would have a hard time explaining in their black and white perception of things.

By now, Willy was more than accustomed to having her come into the place, scaring off his regulars who even if they were not a danger to humans, were sensible enough to leave at the sight of a slayer and generally lowering the next hour’s profits. It was simpler, he had decided, to give her the information that she needed and have her on her way so that his customers would feel it safe enough to come back. On this occasion, as the Slayer strode forcefully into the bar, he could tell by her grim expression that she meant business. Her metamorphosis from bright Sunnydale kid to dedicated slayer was almost complete he thought and he realised with more nostalgia then he ought to feel, that had changed so much in the last five years that he was rather sat to see the deconstruction of that happy young girl.

The woman approaching his bar counter had all the signs of a human who had been beaten down by life and was not getting up as well as she should.

"Can we make this fast?" Willy asked gruffly. "You’re bad for business."

"I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to be," Buffy retorted, sweeping her gaze across the establishment and noted that a few of the patrons were reluctant to make eye contact with her and quickly turned back to their drinks upon catching her notice.

"So where’s the Spike man?" Willy asked. "You two seem pretty tight the last time you were here on that date."

"Date?" Buffy’s eyes widened at the suggestion. The last time she and Spike had been in Willy’s bar, it was to seek information about the Big Bad that had been making her attempts to find work a living hell in itself. Fortunately, the Big Bad had turned out to be the Nerds of Doom and the only thing she had learnt was that she was not good with alcohol and her inability to drink it without making amusing noises. "That was not a date," she sputtered. "That was a….a thing."

"A thing?" Willy stared at her in confusion.

"Yes," Buffy nodded uncertainly. "A very definite thing."

"Okay," Willy shook his head. "Denial much?"

"Look, I’m here for information, you got any?" she demanded, reaching out for him across the counter but Willy stepped out of her reach.

"Depends on what it is you want to know? Now if you want to know which Molrek demon is playing around on which Slime monster, I can help you there but if you want anything more than that, you got to be specific."

"There’s a new lady vamp in town," Buffy repeated herself, deciding that she had already been in here for too long and needed to get out before she took to pummelling Willy in frustration. "She’s got minions and she’s got some kind of seductive power over men."

"Oh her," Willy nodded. "I haven’t seen the lady myself but I hear the buzz is that she just got to town last night from someplace in Europe, Romania I think. A couple of the regulars saw her and they were hit pretty hard, says she’s something to look at."

"Yeah," Buffy nodded unhappily, "I hear that too."

Aware that Willy had probably told her all that he knew, mostly to be rid of her, Buffy saw no reason to remain and left the bar, headed for the Magic Shop. Hopefully, Willow might have found something in her research efforts. If not, what little Buffy had learnt from Willy might aid her research efforts. After all, how many Romanian vampires were there, other than Dracula that is? It might possibly be the reason why Xander was taken. After all, Dracula was able to possess him and make him a human agent for his purposes. If this Elizabeth was the same, perhaps she might have the same power over Xander.

At least one thing gave Buffy some comfort though not much because it did not lessen the danger of him, only the reason why he had had suddenly counted himself an enemy. Elizabeth had no doubt entranced Spike the way she had entranced Xander. Somehow, when Spike had been attempting to leave town and her, he had come across Elizabeth and been caught in her spell as Xander had been. She supposed that she ought to be grateful that his chip was still intact and unlike Angel when he had lost his soul, the only person he was capable of harming these days seemed to be her. At least, she knew her friends would be somewhat safe.

She returned to the Magic Shop, not relishing the disappointment or the angry words that were going to come from Anya when Buffy revealed how little she had learnt in her progress to find Xander. She supposed in Anya’s position she would feel just as badly but Buffy still thought it was a little unfair that she was the one to bear the brunt of Anya’s anger. After all, it was hardly her fault that a vampire who just happened to be a guy magnet managed to trap Xander and Spike in her clutches. Despite herself, Buffy felt inordinately irate that Spike could fall for someone that easily. How many times had he said he loved her? Not very much if he could fall for the first vampire that came along, she thought sourly.

She realised of course that it was not entirely his fault since Xander had shown the same weakness and he was practically married to Anya.

"Buffy!" Dawn exclaimed when Buffy walked through the door.

"Did you find anything?" Anya stood immediately from the table and hurried to the Slayer.

"No," Buffy shook her head sadly, preparing to get yelled at for her failure. "I’m sorry," she added a moment later.

However, Anya did no such thing. The woman merely turned away disappointed and Buffy found that even a worse reaction than being shouted at. Buffy wished she was able to offer Anya better news except for the scant morsel she was about to tell them. "Willy didn’t say much except that Elizabeth only got into town yesterday and that she might be from Romania. Seems it’s pretty much unanimous all around that she’s a babe."

"I got something," Willow said brightly, trying to inject some optimism into the situation.

"Yeah," Dawn replied. "She had to call Giles for some of it but Willow managed to get quite a bit from the computer." Dawn offered Willow an encouraging smile, aware that the former witch felt quite ineffectual that she was unable to resource her magic powers to aid them because of her addiction.

"The only thing I got on record to get on any kind of nasty with the name of Elizabeth is Erzsébet Bathory," Willow explained returning Dawn a grateful look for her support. "Apparently the movie Countess Dracula was sort of based on her. She was a Transylvanian countess in the 1600s, supposed to have been put on trial for her strange taste for drinking human blood. She went through six hundred maidens before the King put a stop to it and had her walled up in her own castle. She figured that drinking blood would make her stop growing old."

"Considering the fact that every guy seems to go crazy at the sight of her, I can see why," Buffy replied deciding that this ‘countess’ and the woman that Dawn encountered earlier today was one and the same. "This is our girl alright, except that the reason for the blood-drinking was because she was a vamp. So why did you have to call Giles?" Buffy looked at her old friend. "Seems to me you had a handle on her pretty good."

"Thanks," Willow replied but she was not finished with her explanation on Elizabeth. "I called Giles because they say she was walled up in her castle until her death two years later. If that’s the case, where has she been since then? I thought the Watcher’s Council might have some record of her since she is pretty old for a vamp."

"And did Giles know?" She asked, wishing that her Watcher were here now, helping her through this. She could really use talking to him about now. Of course, even before he went she had kept secrets from him and she had no idea how he would take hearing of any relationship between her and Spike.

"Yeah," Willow nodded grimly, shuddering inwardly at what she had been told by their old friend about where Elizabeth had been until now. "He had to get back to me but it seems that a Slayer named Brigid was sort of assigned to Elizabeth after she was captured by the King of Poland and put on trial for the murders. Apparently, he wasn’t too comfortable about executing an aristocrat no matter how hard the Watcher Council tried to convince him that it wasn’t the smart thing to do, not without coming out and telling everyone she was a vampire anyway. In the end, Brigid offered to keep watch on her while she was walled up in her castle."

"That’s some duty," Dawn remarked. "At least Buffy gets to meet people."

Buffy cast her sister an odd look before turning back to Willow again. "So she tried to escape two years later and Brigid staked her?"

Willow did not answer immediately and an expression of uncertainty crossed over Willow’s features that gave Buffy the distinct impression she was not going to like the answer to her question.

"Come on Will," Buffy prompted after the pause stretched longer than it should. "How bad could it be?"

"Buffy," Willow spoke in response to Buffy’s insistence. "She didn’t escape or die. Brigid just told him that so he wouldn’t worry about her anymore. The records say that Brigid walled her up completely and abandoned the castle."

"You mean….." Buffy started to say and then found the words would not escape her lips because it was simply too awful to contemplate.

"Yeah," Willow nodded confirming her worst fears. "Brigid left her in the castle, walled up alive."

"Real merciful," Buffy whispered, knowing that they were talking about a vampire and it should not really matter but she could not help feeling this gnawing sensation in the pit of her that the action was not merely cruel but in itself sadistic. She remembered what it had been like trapped inside that coffin when she had been resurrected. The blind, unbelievable taste of panic that filled her mouth when she opened her eyes in that confined space, realising with utter certainty that there was no way out and she was trapped. She closed her eyes, remembering the desperation of needing to get out and realised that it had only been a matter of minutes before she had broken free of her prison and escaped into the world above.

What must it have been like for Elizabeth, caught in the same nightmare? How long had she suffered?

"How long was she in there?" Buffy asked suddenly.

Once again, Willow paused and Buffy’s heart started to pound. She did not know in anticipation of horror at the answer she would receive or perhaps in pity. "How long Willow?"

"Four hundred years."

God.

Buffy closed her eyes in shock. Four centuries, trapped in darkness and filled with an insatiable hunger that could not be satiated except with blood. Vampires did not die, even when they starved. The hunger simply gnawed endlessly at their hollowed stomachs, driving them insane with need until no other thought occupied them. Suddenly, she knew perfectly well what Brigid had done without even needing to hear Willow explain the less. The slayer had kept Elizabeth confined and not fed her. She had watched the vampire starve, day by day, growing more frenzied and weak at the same time, until she was half insane with need. She waited patiently, for a slayer who committed such an act had to be even though Buffy could never be so cruel to inflict that kind of death on any creature. The demon that was a vampire did what it did because that was its nature. One could no more hold it responsible for his actions then expecting a wolf feeding itself in the wild.

Brigid had probably let Elizabeth become so weak until there was no more fight left in her before reporting that she was dead and abandoned the castle, leaving the vampire trapped there for the next four hundred years. In her own way, Brigid probably thought that was justice. Buffy did not feel the same way.

"How did she get out?" Buffy asked and noted that no one else was speaking. Dawn and Anya had heard the story already, she could see the same horror on their face although they had time to let the story seep in and accept it though just barely.

"The Council wasn’t certain," Willow explained. "They know that a team of historians were studying the castle and somehow she got free and killed them all. The Romanian authorities think it was some kind of animal attack because they were all torn up but the Council is pretty sure it was her."

"She was hungry," Buffy replied. "It must have seemed like an all you can eat buffet."

"That’s the last they heard of her until now," Willow commented. "Buffy, she wasn’t just a vamp. She was a witch and a pretty damn powerful one. From what Giles was able to tell from the records they kept about her, she was capable of making the earth tremble and bring forth all kinds of unclean things from hell."

"You mean like a Hellmouth?" Buffy’s eyes widened, realising what it was that Willow was trying to say. "You think she’s here to open the Hellmouth?"

"It’s a possibility," Willow confessed reluctantly.

Buffy had more than her fill of demons trying to open the Hellmouth. The last time had been almost two years ago when she and Riley had faced each other as Slayer and Commando, masks shed for the first time since knowing each other. After that, it had been relatively quiet except for the incident with Glory. Although Glory had not merely planned to open the Hellmouth, she had attempted to rip apart the dimensional barriers in an even almost certain to cause cosmic entropy. It had taken her death to stop Glory and while the Hellmouth was simpler in comparison, Buffy had no intention of allowing Elizabeth to accomplish what she had not managed to do four centuries before.

"I don’t thin the Hellmouth is all she’s going to be after," Buffy sighed.

"What do you mean?" Tara asked anxiously, not liking the manner in which her sister said that.

"A slayer kept her inside a cell for the last four hundred years," Buffy said slowly. "Can you imagine what that must have been like for her?"

"If I were her, I’d be pretty pissed," Willow replied, guessing what point Buffy was attempting to make.

"I know I’d want some payback," Buffy sighed, knowing that Elizabeth would not be merely interested in opening the Hellmouth. She would want vengeance for four hundred years of a living hell.

"But we didn’t do anything to her!" Dawn exclaimed.

"No, we didn’t," Buffy said gently, trying not to frighten Dawn but she had to understand how real the threat was. "But Brigid did and I’m a Slayer and the next best thing. She’ll be coming after me."

Unfortunately, no one could disagree.

***********

If she were to wait, she would rather do it in the home she and Xander shared where she could be alone with her grief and her fears for his safety. Apart of her was certain that if he was not already dead then he was surely turned into a vampire and he might as well be as good as dead for all she would mean to him after that. However, the other half of her was clinging to the ragged hope that he was still alive, that he would come back to her and they would be married just as they had been planning. She forced herself to remain in that frame of mind as she returned home but found that inevitably, her thoughts would return to more realistic expectations.

Anya returned home and lowered herself into the sofa. She did not know how long she had sat there in the darkness, waiting for some word of hope to reach her ears before her mind descended completely into a panic. Tears were shed for his safety and her grief if he did not return before she finally succumbed to the exhaustion in her bones and fell asleep.

She woke up when she heard the key to the front door turn shortly before sunrise. Her senses snapped to perfect clarity, leaving behind the slumber of a few seconds ago when she heard the turn of the steel mechanism in the distance. She sat up in the sofa, her heart pounding in fear, wondering what new threat was invading her home and then realising that vampires did not use keys or enter homes uninvited for that matter. Anya was pondering all these things when the door did open and she reached for a nearby vase as she hurried to it, preparing to defend herself from whatever came through.

What came through the door, however, was Xander.

"XANDER!" Anya exclaimed with complete and utter joy.

She ran into his arms and embraced him before he had a chance to say anything, planting his face with warm kisses in absolute elation that he was alive and well. She felt his arms around her in return, his lips meeting her in a gentle kiss before they stared into each other’s eyes.

"This is some welcome," Xander grinned.

"Xander! Where have you been?" Anya demanded. "Dawn said that you were taken by some vampire!"

"Taken?" Xander laughed, "I wasn’t taken anywhere. I met up with Spike. Hey, do you know he never left town?"

"What?" Anya stammered with confusion. "I thought she put you under some kind of spell…."

"Spell?" Xander stared at her incredulously. "Get real Anya. Look Spike and his new lady invited me over for a drink at the Bronze and I went. I mean I told him to go get a girlfriend, who knew he’d score that well?"

"But Dawn said," Anya started to say.

"Dawn’s a kid and not exactly the most trustworthy one either. I mean shoplifting one day, lying the next. Buffy’s got a lot to deal with." He said indifferently as he broke free from Anya’s embrace and started towards the bedroom.

"Xander…" Anya stared after him. "I was worried about you! I thought that you were hurt or dead!"

"You worry too much," he looked at her as if she were insane for such hysterics. "I’m fine."

With that he walked into the bedroom, leaving her staring after him without any doubt in her mind, that whatever he might at this moment, fine was not one of them.

Chapter Four
Enemies

The ringing of the telephone shattered the serenity of the only peaceful hours that Buffy would have for the whole day. However, the fact that it had rung at what was little after daybreak gave the Slayer the impression that some new crisis had emerged in the last few hours that required her immediate attention. Shaking the grogginess out of her senses as she reached for the phone next to her bed, she wondered what calamity had arisen to bedevil them. It never even occurred to her that the news might be good because so often it was not and Buffy had resigned herself to expecting the worst. A terrible sense of foreboding overcame her as she picked up the phone, wondering if bad news had reached them about Xander. She prayed not.

"Hello," she said cautiously and noted in the background that there were sounds of footsteps. No doubt the sound of the ringing telephone had awoken Dawn for Buffy recognized her soft steps.

"Buffy, its Anya," the former demon’s voice filtered through the receiver.

"What’s wrong?" Buffy asked instantly, knowing that any call at this hour of the night was cause for concern.

"Its Xander," she responded and her voice was hushed, almost as if she were whispering. "He’s back."

"He’s back?" Buffy sat up in her bed. "Is he alright?"

Relief should have flooded her being but Anya’s voice kept her from feeling glad that her friend had been returned. Why was Anya whispering such news? Considering how frantic Anya had been about Xander’s welfare earlier tonight, she should have been elated at his return. Unless of course, he had come back as something other than what he left. The fears that he might have been turned struck cold fear in her heart and she prayed that she was wrong.

"He looks fine but he’s acting strange," Anya responded furtively. "I don’t think he’s been bitten but he acts as if nothing happened. He said that he was just hanging out with Spike and his new girlfriend."

Buffy absorbed the information calmly, aware that Xander was extremely susceptible to some of the mind control practised by Master Vampires such as Dracula. While there was every possibility that he could be telling the truth, every instinct that Buffy possessed told her that he was not. Considering that Dracula’s influence over him had led Xander to deliver her and the rest of the scoobies to the vampire, the danger he posed in his current state was very real. It was probably the reason why Anya had called her since she had been Xander at the time and was aware of the influence his mind had been under.

"Don’t do anything," Buffy said tautly, already climbing out of bed to get dressed. "Don’t provoke him, don’t say anything to let him know that you’re on to him."

"Alright," Anya nodded, her anxiety was clear. "What if he tries to leave?"

"Don’t let him," Buffy retorted. "If he does, he’s going straight back to her and I don’t want to risk the chance that she might turn him."

"Okay," Anya said nervously because that was not easy as it sounds. She did not relate to Buffy just how oddly Xander had been behaving, nor the fact that there was something sinister in his eyes that she was not sure would not harm her if given the chance. "I’ll do what I can."

"Just keep him there until I reach you," Buffy replied, sensing the fear in her voice that was not for Xander but rather of him.

"I’ll try," she returned hesitantly. "He’s just behaving so differently."

Buffy paused a moment, realizing that Anya needed reassurance but Buffy had no idea what to say to that effect, not until she saw Xander herself. She knew that Xander had a darker side and it was wise not to provoke it. Under his usually pleasant demeanour, lay buried years of repression of always thinking himself inferior, of being second best to someone else and she knew that Xander loathed being so weak and human some times. When the spirit of the hyena had possessed him during her first year in Sunnydale, Buffy saw how lethal he could become once the inhibitions keeping his baser instincts restrained had been released in full torrent. He was cruel but could have killed easily. Under all the best of humanity that Xander seemed to embody at times, there was also the worst of it waiting for release.

"Anya," Buffy drew in a heavy breath and spoke the only words she knew to allay the woman’s fears. "It's not him. Whatever he does, it’s not him."

There was no response for a few seconds and Buffy hoped Anya was not going to launch into one of her infamously inappropriate statements but instead when she spoke, her voice was sober.

"I’ll keep him here Buffy," Anya said finally. "Whatever it takes, I won’t let him go."

"I’ll be there soon," Buffy replied and hung up, not about to waste any more time than necessary in reaching either of them.

However, if Xander got in his mind to leave, Buffy knew that there was very little Anya could do to stop him. However as that possibility loomed in her mind and as much as she loathed herself to consider it, perhaps Xander getting past his fiancée may not be such a bad thing at all.

Not if Buffy was there to follow him.

***********

Following Buffy’s instructions, Anya found herself frozen on the sofa of the apartment, watching the bedroom door for any signs of life. She knew that it was foolish to remain here because her refusal to join Xander in bed might arouse his suspicion but the truth was, she was a little afraid of him. There was a glint of something in his eyes when he had returned home that frightened her a little and she knew that if she spent too much time around him, he would know it. After hearing Buffy’s instructions on what to do, she had decided that the best course of action was to stay out of his way and not give him a reason to leave. Hopefully, he would remain asleep until Buffy arrived so she could deal with him if he made any attempt to leave.

Anya knew that if he walked out of here, it would be straight into her arms and that was a thought that twisted her insides into knots of disgust.

Forcing herself not to think about Xander’s relationship with the vampire they knew as Elizabeth, she reminded herself that he was not to blame. He had no control over his mind and she had been a demon for a thousand years to know the supernatural had compelling effects upon human beings, men in particular. When she had been a vengeance demon, she had seen the weakness of men to the power of lust and they were capable of committing all kinds of folly in its pursuit, some which had little to do with a spell. However, Xander was different. He loved her and whatever this was that had trapped him, she knew that somewhere inside all that magic, was the man she loved. Whatever else might happen tonight, she would remember that much.

Dawn was just starting to break when she hung up the phone from Buffy. She hoped the sun would continue its ascent a little more before he awoke. Sunlight poured into the apartment, illuminating the grey walls back to their normal colour. The sunshine made Anya remember that hope still lived even after a night like the one she had just endured. With the sunshine, the danger of Elizabeth receded and Anya felt the churning fear in her guts starting to slacken slightly. Perhaps Xander would be all right. Buffy would come here with Willow and they would fix things. They would fix him.

The door creaked open and Xander emerged into the sunlight.

He did not burst into flame or dust so in that at least Anya took comfort, however, his eyes were still cold. He stared across the floor, his eyes resting on her huddled form on the sofa and what compassion she loved so much did not reflect at his indifferent expression. He stood there already dressed and Anya wondered how he had managed to change without her hearing him in all the silence. Had she been so lost in her thoughts that she had not heard?

"Who were you talking to on the phone?" He asked coolly.

"Nobody," Anya said feebly and saw that he did not believe her for a second.

"I heard you talking," he replied, accusation in his voice.

"It must have been the TV," she responded, knowing as soon as she spoke that it was a bad excuse.

"The TV is off Anya," he glanced briefly at the dull screen before turning his intense gaze towards her again. He took a step closer and there was menace in every step. "Who were you talking to Anya?"

"Nobody Xander," she started to stand up from the sofa, determined to get past him before he reached her.

"You’re going to be my wife Anya," he grabbed her arm in one swift movement, fingers digging into her flesh. "You will respect me so when I ask a question, I WANT A FUCKING ANSWER!" He shouted, pulling her face close to his.

"Let me go!" Anya started to pull away and Xander reaction to that was just as determined.

A backhanded blow, knuckle and all caught her on the jaw and sent her flying. She landed onto the glass coffee table and felt it buckle underneath. Pain flared through her as glass shattered shards both big and small scattering beneath her as she landed. The carpet absorbed some of the impact but not much and the glass dug into her skin, drawing blood. She uttered a cry, not so much because of the pain and it was considerable, but because he had actually hit her. She heard his feet crush the glass shards underneath his heavy boots, the ones he wore to work. Dazed and lying still in the wreckage, he felt his hand grab her again and pull her up to a sitting position.

"Who was on the phone?" He hissed again and as she looked into his face through the blood on her cut face and the metallic taste in her mouth, she saw that he did not care that he had hurt her and probably would not mind doing it again if she did not answer.

"Nobody!" She cried out, feeling her own rage provoked by his brutality.

Another blow caught her by surprise and this time, it impacted against her cheek. Her face slapped hard against the glass and the floor, bruises forming under tiny cuts. She had little time to ponder the pain because the boot that slammed into her abdomen force the air out of her lung and she curled up into a ball, her mind spinning. Tears had started to come and she began to weep helplessly, knowing that somewhere inside him, beyond the spell of the enchantress, he was screaming to get out, to help her. She wept for him and she wept for herself because the one thing she had never imagined he might do in all this, no matter how much he was Elizabeth’s creature was the possibility that he might kill her.

"I know you called Buffy," he lowered himself to his knees and stared dispassionately at her. "I know you called that blond slut that will do anything but me." The words sounded alien coming out of his mouth and the voice unearthly. "I won’t let her harm Elizabeth, I won’t let her harm the only woman that means anything to me."

Anya’s eyes flared open, her lips begin to quiver because those words had hurt more than the beating. "You’re not yourself," she whimpered, almost pleading for him to remember. "I love you Xander and you love me?"

"Love you?" Xander started to laugh and it was devoid of humour. "I can barely stand you, let alone love you. Ever since you forced me into going along with this whole thing about marriage I haven’t been able to think straight from the disgust. Look at you? You’re pathetic. You’re a failure as a demon and useless as a human. The only thing you were ever good for was keeping the bed warm at night. It never occurred to you that I was marrying you because you were there? You didn’t think it was because I actually wanted you?"

"You don’t mean that," she whispered, crying harder now, reminding herself that it was not this fault. None of this was. It was a spell. God, it had to be a spell.

"Gotta be going now," Xander stood up and dusted himself of the bit of glass that had landed on his clothes when he dealt with her. "I’m sure you’ll give Buffy my regards."

Without looking back, he left her, bleeding.

***********

 "There is he," Buffy pointed out to Willow when she saw Xander striding down the front entrance of his apartment building.

"You were right," Willow frowned. "I guess he wasn’t going to stay away from her long."

Buffy had suspected that any effort Anya made to keep Xander there until she came would most likely result in his deciding the safest place to be was at the side of his mistress. Although she did not like using Anya that way, she knew that it was one way to find where Elizabeth was hiding. Considering how formidable a foe the woman was turning out to be Buffy knew that the only way to beat Elizabeth was to outthink her. Hopefully, Anya would understand when Buffy explained it to her, since the only way to free Xander from this spell he was presently under was to destroy its originator.

"I’m going to follow him," Buffy announced from within the cover of bushes that she and Willow had been hiding for some time now, waiting for Xander to emerge. "You go upstairs and tell Anya what’s happening, tell her not to worry."

"Yeah," Willow agreed with that course of action, knowing how agitated the vengeance demon could be about Xander’s welfare. "She was acting kind of crazy?"

"Acting?" Buffy gave her a look, stepping out of their hiding place now that they had given Xander enough lead time for him to be assured he was not followed. "I’ll meet you back here later," she said quickly and hurried forward.

Willow watched the Slayer hurry across the street, taking the same path her quarry had before disappearing around the block. She remained where she was for a few seconds, allowing the rising sunshine to give her some assurance that there were going to no surprise arrivals to make the already bad situation worse. Without her magic, Willow felt weaker and incapable of defending herself, as she had once been able. She knew that the perceived vulnerability was in her mind, that she had survived vampires and demons long before she began to use the magic and the reason she felt this way was part of her problem with mastering the supernatural. Although the desire to use magic was fading away with her determined resolve to free of it, Willow still could not help missing the advantages of being something of a powerful witch.

Shaking her head of such thoughts because they could only serve to make harder what was already a difficult addiction to break, she instead crossed the street to the apartment building, reminding herself that upstairs Anya was probably working herself into a state. As it was, Willow did not relish being Buffy when Anya learnt that Buffy had known that her insistence to keep Xander in their apartment would probably cause him to do the exact opposite, send him running to Elizabeth. Willow agreed with Buffy that putting down the vampire as quickly as possible was the best solution at present. Considering her history with the Slayers, it was only a matter of time before the Master Vampire turned her attention to Buffy and usually in that kind of battle, it was usually the people around her who was hurt. Willow was of the firm opinion that Buffy had enough of feeling guilty of late.

She made her way up the stairs and turned down the corridor of Xander’s apartment when she noted the door was open. Something in that half ajar door suddenly forced the air out of her lungs and made the Wiccan start running. As she covered the distance to Xander’s front door, Willow realised with a sinking feeling in the pit of her that both she and Buffy had miscalculated Elizabeth’s hold on Xander by more than any of them could have possibly imagined. She was barely aware when she pushed open the door, freezing under the skin when she was confronted by the violence that had taken place within.

"ANYA!" Willow bolted forward once her mind had taken in the wreckage and the body lying amongst the broken fragments of blood on the carpeted floor.

Anya did not respond. She was clearly alive because Willow could hear her weeping. Xander’s fiancée was curled up in a fetal position, her legs tucked under her chest as she wept. Her hair was matted with blood and there were cuts all over her, an injury received by the remains of the broken glass coffee table. Willow skidded to her side, not caring that there were dangerous shards on the floor and that she was not immune to its sharp edges.

"Anya!" Willow stammered. "Oh God, you’re hurt. Did Xander do this to you?"

The question only produced a more agonized sob and with utter shock, Willow realised that no one else but Xander could have done this for Anya to be weeping in anguish when she should have just been in pain.

"You should have heard the things he said," Anya looked up at her with blood and tear-streaked face. "He was someone else."

"Hold on to me," Willow instructed, brushing aside the cruel words he might have said because right now, getting Anya help was all that she cared about. Anya obeyed but Willow had a feeling she was not entirely listening. She gave her arm mutely and allowed herself to be lifted off the floor. Willow helped her to the sofa and lay her there; taking note of the cuts and determining that most of them were lacerations. As much as she wanted to call Anya a doctor, she could not. A doctor was going to want to know how this had happened and Willow did not think explaining Xander’s part in all this was exactly wise.

Leaving Anya on the sofa alone for a moment, she hurried into the bathroom, hoping to find something to which she could treat Anya’s wounds and finding that there was very little in there that could be of help. Most of what she needed could be picked up at any pharmacy but Willow was not entirely eager to leave Anya alone. Something had happened here tonight that was more than just Xander’s brutality; Anya’s weeping was evidence of that. If she left the woman alone, there was no telling what might happen and Willow was not about to do that any time soon. Taking a deep breath, she came to the conclusion that she was going to need help.

Glancing at the phone, Willow made her decision, hoping that it was not a mistake but coming quickly to the understanding that there was little chose in the matter. She picked up the phone and dialled the number she had feared to do so for months and now was forced to for the sake of the friend lying on the sofa bleeding badly. Willow hoped it would be understood that way when she was forced to explain herself.

"Hello," she said meekly after hearing the phone pick up at the end of the line. "It’s me, Willow. Tara, I need your help." 

***********

It did not take long for Buffy to catch up to Xander even though his choice of route to his master left much to be desired. She assumed he would make his approach through the town but no sooner than he had left the street his apartment was located, Xander headed straight for the nearest sewer. She supposed she should have guessed that he was to return to her in the daylight, she would require him to take some precaution to keep from being followed, particularly when he was a friend to the Slayer. Buff watched with some trepidation as Xander ducked into an alley, aware from her extensive knowledge of Sunnydale’s sewers that there was an access way within its shadows.

She waited for a few minutes and then followed him into the alley, finding that he was gone by the time she entered its flanking confines. The manhole cover he had removed to make his descent was still but Buffy knew that he had gone through it for the dust around it was disturbed. She waited another few seconds because the echoes in the tunnels might give her away although she had to be mindful of letting him get too far ahead in case she lost him. Taking a deep breath of fresh air because there would be a decided lacking of it when she entered the sewers, Buffy pulled the cover off the dark orifice and lowered herself into it.

Upon touching down onto the slimy concrete beneath, Buffy could see in which direction Xander had gone by the wet footprints on parts of the dry floor. It was difficult to make out because it was dimly lit if at all in places and an assortment of unmentionable materials covered the ground, some easily identifiable and some that Buffy preferred not looking at all. The thick noxious smell was gagging but Buffy had become used to it through years of sheer repetition in the odious environment. She took careful steps forward, following the tracks as well as she could, paying attention to the minute details of an otherwise disarrayed terrain. It did not take her long to discern some kind of pattern in the muck that allowed her to continue.

It was probably not wise to engage the enemy if Xander did lead her to Elizabeth. From what Dawn had said, Elizabeth had something of an entourage. Master Vamps never seemed to travel alone and this one certainly would not Buffy decided, especially when she was capable of making all men who came upon her mad with sycophantic devotion. At least she could draw comfort in Spike being her creature and not out of any real desire for the woman. Still, that did make him less dangerous and Buffy was not eager to meet him face to face. Spike always knew how to get under her skin, even when they were not lovers. The vampire’s perceptiveness was part of the reason they had become friends long before she had taken to his bed. In some ways, Buffy missed their friendship more than she enjoyed the sex and she wish that she had not crossed that boundary between them because it felt as if she had pre-empted something between them that might have been real, instead of this hollow relationship of theirs.

She could hear nothing of Xander’s progress but she knew she was on the right track because his footsteps in the wet pools and impression on the muddy ground told her that she was. Buffy sidestepped the stagnant pools of water, tried valiantly to avoid the muddy smears on the concrete and most of all, feel some disgust at the stench but she could not. She had become used to it after so much time and felt more at ease in the solitude of such places because in here, she was the Slayer. There was no need to be anything else, no responsibility other than that of keeping the world safe from the denizens of the dark. Up there, when she joined the human race, she was nothing and knew that until she overcame this feeling of being a lesser person in the real world, she would always remain that way.

She knew that she was reaching implosion. She could feel it. Its walls were pressing in on her and when that final confrontation took place, she would have to re-evaluate the way she was living or rather existing since her reemergence. Perhaps Spike had done the best thing for both of them by leaving first. She had no wish to hold him but the lure of how pliable his love for her had made him was powerful. It was good to have someone who could on cue be all the things she needed and then be discarded when the need was done. Spike had left her first and she could not help thinking that perhaps he was the stronger one for it. If she got him away from the clutches of Elizabeth without harm, Buffy resolved to tell him that it was alright if he wanted to go. He had more than kept his promise to protect Dawn and his friends and she would always be grateful for that but he needed to go for his own sake as well as hers.

She had turned a junction when a sensation akin to something breathing against her skin made Buffy halt and pause in her steps. The feeling was one she knew well, it had first came upon her the night she had picked up the mantle of Slayer. The danger was thick in the air, thicker than the disgusting smell of dead and rotting things in the sewer with her but the ones she could see were harmless, the ones that remained hidden was what worried her. She thought perhaps that Xander had come back, that he somehow guessed her ploy and had retraced his steps in order to catch her out but Xander could inspire the danger she felt. Even if he was Elizabeth’s creature, he was still a normal man and she was the Slayer.

It would hardly be a contest.

She paused, ignoring the pounding of her heart that felt loud enough to send echoes through this cavernous place. Her hands reached into her coat and she produced the stake that had been rather absurdly named Mr Pointy by the Slayer Kendra who had died some years ago and had lent her the weapon on the night of her death. There were times that Buffy actually wondered whether or not Kendra would have met her end if she had not been armed with what she considered to be her lucky stake. Now it was in Buffy’s hand, her fist clutched tightly around it as her eyes scanned the shadows waiting for it, whatever it was to make its emergence.

The steps she knew were approaching were silent and she knew only one of two vampires in her whole life that could make such a stealthy advance. One was Angel, who after the first time they had met and had been beaten silly for his trouble, decided sneaking up and being heard by a Slayer was not such a good thing. When her mind reached the conclusion of who the other was, she froze in place, not knowing what to do and reminding herself that this was the danger she had always faced when it came to him.

When it came to Spike.

"Hello Cutie," he said with a cold smile as he stepped out of the shadows, fully expecting her to be waiting for him to appear.

"Spike," she took a step back, her hold on the stake did not diminish.

Spike walked around her in a neat circle, his eyes fixed on the slayer that was watching him with eyes he had not seen since his first days in Sunnydale. It was filled with fear and he had to admit that he liked how that looked. He had almost forgotten the pleasure of seeing the terror in the eyes of the prey. Since the chip, he had been robbed of that delightful treat and enjoying it especially when the source was the Slayer was something to be savoured.

"Lost?" He asked simply, wanting to test the waters, seeing how far she was willing to go.

"Where is he?" She demanded her eyes defiant and proud.

"Who?" He feigned ignorance at first. He knew of course whom she meant. He had passed the whelp some time ago and had picked up the scent he knew all too well and told him to get out of the sewer before he led the Slayer to Elizabeth. Xander had been more than happy to do so. Elizabeth was no fool. She knew enough to keep her minions guarding the passages to her domain because, in her time, she had a Countess who inhabited a castle on the edge of the Christian world battling for its survival from the invading Turks.

"You know who," she tried to take a step towards him and faltered.

In that instant, Spike knew that she did not want to kill him. As many times as she had told herself that he meant utterly nothing to her, that she could never care for him, Spike saw something in her eyes akin to sorrow at being forced into this position. The human inside him almost wept from the joy of the realization while the demon found something to use to his advantage. He took a step forward, cautiously to see what she would do. Would she lunge at him? Would she try to bury her stake into his heart? He was unsurprised when she did not.

"Baby want some candy?" He smiled suggestively.

"Don’t flatter yourself," she said sharply, her lips curling in disgust. "I’m not going to ask you again. Where is he?"

"Who?" Spike replied, knowing his evasiveness would only infuriate her. She was starting to get angry and while she could be a powerhouse when her rage got to her but she was also unfocused and careless. She relied too much on physical strength and forgot the training she had honed her skills relentlessly to acquire.

"Xander," Buffy replied, her cheeks flushed with anger.

"Haven’t seen him today," Spike shrugged nonchalantly.

"Tell me where he is or I will stake you," Buffy warned and this time, her eyes hardened enough for her to convince him that she would make a good effort of trying.

"Quid pro quo as they say," he replied with a smile. "Something for something. I’ll give you Xander, you give me something in return. Something with a little passion." His voice was full of suggestion.

"You bastard," she came at him, launching for a strike but he grabbed the hand holding the stake around her wrist and slammed her hard into the wall, face first.

Buffy tasted blood in her mouth, unable to believe that she had allowed herself to get so angry with him that he had managed to sidestep her so easily. Since their passionate bouts as lovers, they had engaged each other physically but never had he drawn blood, not like this. She turned around stunned at the pain but not surprised that he dared to deliver it. Buffy no more than looked over her shoulder when he struck again, this time her head hit hard against the wall and the stake dropped from her hand in shock. She knew that she ought to be recouping but she saw stars and there was power in him, a power she had not noticed before. He once said that because he loved her, he had never been able to kill her. Did that mean during their fights, he held back?"

"Get up," he hissed.

She looked up and saw his face slipping into the full vampiric mask and knew that whatever he felt for her was properly subdued by Elizabeth’s entrancing powers. She paused a moment, considering what she would do. He was not close enough to attack so she lingered getting up. When his patience wearied, he strode towards her and before he could reach her, Buffy shot out her led and the ball of her foot slammed into his knees. His leg buckled immediately but he was not unprepared to retaliate, bringing his elbow down on her prone form, he smashed into her spine and forced a cry of pain from her as she landed on her belly. The pain forced the air from her lungs but she recovered quickly, kicking out again, this time connecting with his chin.

Spike staggered backwards and landed on his behind. Buffy flipped onto her feet, standing over him but she was hurting and he could see it. A menacing smile crossed his lips and he stood up quickly, facing her on equal footing before they danced again. Buffy’s eyes searched for the stake and felt a hint of dismay at not being able to see it in the shadows.

"Shall we dance?" He asked with a smile.

"Spike, this isn’t you," she spoke, deciding to try reason just once.

He looked at her with surprise and started to laugh. It was a throaty laugh that Buffy did not hear from him often. His eyes almost sparkled when he looked at her. "Bloody hell slayer," he said with a grin. "Didn’t you learn your lesson when peaches became Angelus? I was right, you are daft!"

"Stop it," she shouted, hating him from bringing up that particular hurt. "I don’t want to kill you but I will if I have to."

"Go ahead," he hissed with something in his eyes that was more than the vampire under Elizabeth’s spell. "You killed me a dozen times already, what’s once more?"

"Not like this," she shouted and threw her fist at him. "I’ll kill you, Spike. I don’t want to but I will do it."

"You can try," he sidestepped her blow and caught the arm throwing it.

Buffy retaliated quickly, using her other hand and slamming into his chin. It forced him to release his hold of her but not enough to disorientate him. He swung out wide, a roadhouse swing in technical terms, knuckles meeting her chin with enough force to make even a Slayer cry out in pain. He was not holding back, not any more. She threw a high kick, which impacted, on the base of his neck and he caught her foot, bringing down his elbow on the soft part of her thigh. She tumbled to the floor but recovered neatly, swinging her whole body around so that she could stand up again. When she did, she threw a spinning kick, landing her foot on his cheek and he dropped to his knee momentarily stunned. He saw her coming at him and rolled out of her way and sprang upright once he was done. She turned and came for him to attack again but he grabbed her shoulders, pulling her towards him.

Leaving himself vulnerable to attack confused her for a moment but not much more than that, he held her shoulders and slammed his skull against her, sending pain through her entire system and then swung around, putting all his strength into the punch. It impacted against her jaw and Buffy felt her teeth rattle from the shock wave when she landed on her side, her fingers sinking into the slime on the floor. Blood filled her mouth again and she saw him coming after her and with a start, she realized that she was hurt, more than her capacity to endure while attempting to fight him. She scrambled to her feet and stood up shakily, but not before he threw another one of those devastating punches.

"You listen to me," he growled, still in game face as she felt the blood running out of her nose. "You want her, you’re going to have to come through me pet. I’ll never let anyone hurt her, not even you. I’m done being your bitch and if it wasn’t for the fact that she had plans for you that I’m not spoiling for her, I’d have killed you already!"

Buffy looked up and saw that he was staring down at her with his human mask. "One-time deal slayer," he said coldly. "Run."

Buffy’s eyes widened at the offer, her vision blurred from the beating she had received at his hand. "This isn’t over," she whispered, sounding feeble because there was blood running out of her mouth.

"No," he replied turning around, his duster flapping dramatically behind him as he withdrew, "it isn’t."

***********

 When Tara arrived at Xander’s apartment, Willow had made some attempt to clean Anya’s wounds with what was available. Fortunately as severe as the bruising and cuts she had incurred during her confrontation with Xander, Anya’s wounds were capable of being treated without requiring a trip to the emergency room. Knowing the unpleasant questions that would arise from such an action, Willow was none too eager to pursue that course until truly necessary. Still, despite the injuries she had received at Xander’s hands, Willow suspected that more had happened than just what Anya had revealed. Anya’s wounds appeared more than physical and though she had lapsed into a stony silence, Willow knew that she had far from recovered from her ordeal.

The door was slightly open when Tara knocked. Willow’s frightened voice over the phone had made Tara forget all about getting to class and driving straight to the nearest pharmacy in order to get the items Willow asked to treat Anya. While things between them might be somewhat uneasy at the moment, Tara was still very much in love with Willow and could not deny her when she asked for help. She knew that Willow had made a concerted effort to stay away from the magic that had torn their relationship apart and hoped that her assistance did not hinder Willow’s progress in any way. However, it was hard to quibble about such things when someone was hurt.

"Willow?" Tara called out through the widening gap of the door after she had knocked gently against it.

"Tara," Willow hurried away from the sofa where she was tending to Anya to greet her former lover. Despite the urgency of the situation, Willow could not deny that it was good to know that Tara had come at her behest.

"I brought the stuff you needed," Tara said shakily, producing the bag of items she had purchased.

"Thanks," Willow replied, trying not to smile at how good it was to see Tara again. "I really appreciate you coming over."

"I had to," Tara replied, casting her gaze past Willow’s shoulder at Anya whose expression was nothing less than devastation. "Whatever’s happened between you and me doesn’t change that we were once friends Willow."

"I know," Willow smiled gratefully. "Still I’m glad you’re here."

For a few seconds, the barrier between them that had been stretched paper-thin a thousand leagues wide seemed to narrow and in their eyes, they could almost touch. They lingered beyond each other, out of reach and yet so tantalizingly close to one another. Willow wanted to cross that distance, wanted Tara to hold her and tell her that everything would be alright, that this ache that gnawed at her constantly was not simply the magic trying to make her its slave again but this feeling of being ripped apart and robbed of completion. When Tara was with her, she had never known that desolation but now it was apart of her and would be until things were mended between them.

That was far from being and such was proven when Tara turned towards Anya and moved past Willow, feeling the same things and being just as aware that the space between them though diminished in expanse, was still there. "What happened?"

"A new vamp is in town," Willow explained as they went to treat Anya. "Her name is Elizabeth, I think she’s the Elizabeth Bathory, who used to be called Countess Dracula."

"The one that all those movies are about?" Tara glanced at her.

"Yeah," Willow nodded, understanding her surprise. "I suppose if Dracula was real, she was bound to be as well."

Tara could not argue with that reasoning.

"So what happened? She come after you guys?" Tara asked as she sat on the sofa next to Anya who had, fortunately, dozed off to sleep. Willow had found something for the pain she must have been in and administered it in the hopes that the woman would drift off to sleep and rest while they treated her wounds.

"No," Willow shook her head. "She’s apparently some kind of witch."

"A vampire who’s a witch? "Tara’s eyes widened.

"Yeah," Willow nodded it anxiously as she began removing the content of the bag and started hanging cotton balls and other medicines to Tara as she required. "She uses some kind of enchantment spell on men, makes them completely slave to their will. She got Spike first."

"Spike?" Tara exclaimed and almost revealed that she knew he had gone but immediately silenced herself because revealing her knowledge would mean Buffy had come to her first about his departure and Willow would want to know why.

"Apparently he was leaving town or something," Willow replied. "He must have run into her on his way out and he used her skank mojo on him."

"Did he do this?" Tara was almost afraid to ask because she could imagine the recriminations that Buffy would feel if he had. Somehow Tara thought Spike was beyond being a danger. A part of her that wished happiness for Buffy had hoped that perhaps Spike was on the road to redemption because he seemed to be the only one who was capable of engendering any feeling in the Slayer of late.

"No," Willow shook her head. "If it was Spike at least that would be something."

"Then who?" Tara asked and guessed by the stricken expression on Willow’s face and the fact that Xander was not present what had happened. "Xander?" The words escaped her in a whisper.

Willow nodded, barely capable of saying it out loud. "She used the spell on him. He’s been gone for hours," Willow said quietly, "we thought the worst but then he came back and he was alright, not a vamp."

"She was under her spell?" Tara guessed without having to hear the rest.

"Anya called Buffy and said he was acting weird, so Buffy told Anya not to let Xander leave in case he went back to her. I think Buffy guessed that Xander would try to take off, you remember how he was when Dracula was here?"

She did remember and she also remembered that Xander had almost given up all his friends to the legendary vampire. However, he had merely led them to his master, he had not committed any brutal acts of violence like what she was now witnessing on Anya’s sleeping form.

"I remember," Tara answered.

"Buffy figured if Anya tried to stop him, it will send him running back to her so we waited until he left before Buffy went after him but we never thought he would do this," Willow’s voice started to waver as she stared sorrowfully at Anya. "I mean we didn’t think he’d hurt her so badly and it’s not just the wounds. Before she fell asleep, she was crying. I don’t know what he said to her Tara but it must have been bad. She looked like the whole world just shattered."

Tara knew the feeling well. The night she had left Willow, she had been gripped with such anguish and knew that Willow was right, Xander must have done something more than just used his fists. "So Buffy’s gone after him? Alone?"

"Yeah," Willow replied. "She asked me to explain things to Anya and it’s a good thing I did because we wouldn’t have known she was in this shape."

"Is it safe for Buffy to go after this vamp alone?" Tara asked concern. "I mean usually she has Spike to back her up but if he’s gone to the other side…."

Tara never had a chance to finish her sentence because the door behind them swung open suddenly and with Buffy staggering through the doorway, clutching its frame for support before she froze and stared at the scene before her. Her bruised and bleeding faced melted into dismay as she saw the wreckage of Anya’s confrontation with Xander before resting her eyes onto Anya’s wounded form on the couch. Her eyes immediately connected with Willow and Tara who was staring at her in shock because neither had scene the Slayer in such an injured state since she had fallen off the gantry to her death.

"Buffy!" Willow cried out as she stood up.

"Is she alright?" Buffy demanded, not caring about her own welfare when confronted with Anya’s sleeping form.

"You need to sit down," Tara ignored the question and grabbed a chair for Buffy.

"IS SHE ALRIGHT!" Buffy repeated herself sharply.

"She’s going to be fine," Willow said hastily, gesturing Tara to bring the chair forward. "What happened to you? Xander didn’t do this did he?" Willow asked, not wanting to believe her oldest friend in the world was capable of inflicting this kind of harm upon Buffy.

"No," Buffy shook her head. "It wasn’t Xander that did this but did he do that?" She pointed at Anya.

"Yes," Willow replied reluctantly, knowing what would come when she made that admission.

"GOD!" Buffy swore loudly, hot tears running down her cheeks. "Could I have screwed up any more than I already have?" She demanded, asking no one in particular.

"No!" Tara quickly interjected. "You didn’t know this was going to happen. Willow told me what’s been going on. You had no reason to believe that Xander would be like this. I mean he wasn’t like this with Dracula!"

"I shouldn’t have risked it!" Buffy retaliated, feeling waves of guilt and humiliation bubble inside of her. Was it not bad enough that Spike had managed to do this to her because of her weaknesses, was she going to let the same thing happen to her friends because of her miscalculations?

"You did what you had to," Willow said firmly. "Now you need to let us help you."

It was not often that Willow used such a stern tone but when it was utilized, it was not to be disobeyed, not even by the Slayer. Still Buffy could not deny that once again, she was wrong and people had gotten hurt, herself included. "I’m okay," she said wearily. "Its worse than it looks."

"Did Elizabeth and her vamps do this to you?" Willow asked as she dabbed the blood from Buffy’s split lip.

"No," Buffy shook her head. "This was all Spike."

"Spike?" Tara cried out and exchanged a horrified look with Willow before turning to Buffy again. "How could he? You’ve fought before. He’s never hurt you like this."

"That’s because he always used to hold back," Buffy whispered trying not to think about his cruel words. "He said it himself, he loved me but not any more. Elizabeth is all he cares about now."

"But you managed to get away," Willow stated anxiously, unable to believe that William the Bloody had been throwing his punches all those years.

"He let me go," she said bitterly. "The son of a bitch let me go."

"Then he still cares for you," Tara replied. "He has to right? He wouldn’t have let you go if he didn’t feel something for you."

Buffy wished that were the case. She wished that there was some part of Spike that remembered what he felt for her but she had seen his eyes and she knew that all traces of the vampire who loved her to the point of obsession was gone. He belonged to a new mistress and she did not believe in sharing.

"She’s got something planned for me," Buffy whispered after a while as Tara dabbed some medication on her wounds. "He didn’t kill me because he wasn’t going to ruin things for her."

"Oh Buffy," Tara wanted to say something but she had no idea what and was limited to how much sympathy she could offer the slayer because Willow and the rest of the Scoobies were unaware of Buffy’s relationship with Spike.

"And Xander?" Willow was almost afraid to ask.

"I don’t know," Buffy answered wearily. "Spike ambushed me while I was following him. I never got to see where she was hiding out."

"Great," Anya’s voice suddenly interjected. "So it looks like we both got the crap beaten out of us for nothing?"

The vengeance demon had awakened unsurprisingly to the conversation taking place around her and had heard, albeit through something of a blur, most of what had happened tonight. However, there was no anger on her face, just the same weariness that filled Buffy’s expression.

"Looks that way," Buffy sighed. She steeled herself for Anya’s recrimination, knowing that she deserved it for putting Anya at risk as she had.

Anya did nothing of the sort. Instead, a little smile crossed her face and she added, "don’t hog all the iodine. We got to pull ourselves together if we’re gonna get this bitch."

Buffy smiled, almost breaking into tears by Anya’s remark and knew that even though the situation was extremely bleak, it would not last forever. Bruises healed and when they did, she was going to find Xander and Spike.

Then she was going to deal with Elizabeth.

NEXT CHAPTER

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