Banner by Selene

Chapter 3

Daniel watched as the Slayer was loaded into a nondescript white van. He waited until it had moved off before running after the vehicle and hopping lightly onto the back end. His body instantly changed to blend in with his new surroundings, his skin turning the same motley shade of white as the vehicle he was now clinging to.

The familiar landmarks were a blur as the van swerved in and out of traffic on its way out of town, causing him to frown. Out of town wasn’t good. It made for a longer turnaround time. Not to mention the lack of witnesses. Although demon activity was rarely, if ever, noticed by the humans of the city. Daniel just prayed that Drake would want to draw out his torture session, thus providing him with the time to return with the vampire. After nearly five centuries of enforced servitude to the Order, and the last one spent looking over his shoulder, his freedom was finally within his grasp. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, let Drake win.

The van slowed and drew to a halt near the outskirts of Tel Aviv and Daniel leapt off the back of the van and raced to the wall of the building they’d stopped in front of, blending in with the structure so that he was all but invisible. He watched quietly as Drake got out of the driver’s seat and walked around to the side door of the van just as it opened from the inside. His two lackeys got out, supporting the unconscious Slayer under either arm, and Daniel watched helplessly as they dragged her right past him and in through the front door.

When he was sure it was safe to move, Daniel hurried away from the door and started running back towards the busier section of town. Halfway there, he was able to hop on the back of another vehicle, thus hastening his return to the busier part of the city.

By the time he reached the vampire’s room, a half hour had passed. It would take them at least that much time to get back – depending on how cooperative said vampire would be.

That gave Drake a whole hour with the Slayer. More than enough time to break her with his sadistic torture techniques.

Daniel squashed down his nervousness as he marched up to the door and rapped his knuckles against the wood. Before he could lean against the exterior wall and blend in with his surrounds, the door was opened and his neck was squeezed in the vice of the vampire’s unbreakable grip.

~*~*~*~*~

“Knew I was bloody well bein’ followed,” Spike growled, his hand tightening about the demon’s throat and hauling him inside the room. He shoved him up against the wall and the vampire’s eyes bugged as the demon seemed to disappear right before him – only his grip about the demon’s throat letting him know that he wasn’t alone.

“’m only gonna ask this once, mate. Who are you? And what the hell are you doin’ knockin’ on my door?”

“Slayer,” Daniel tried to hiss out around his constricted throat muscles.

Spike drew the demon away from the wall until they were almost nose-to-nose, growling, “What about the Slayer?”

“D-Drake… has… has her,” Daniel gasped out. “Must… must hurry…” His eyes started to roll up into the back of his head as his means of obtaining oxygen remained cut off. Not that he needed much, but the vampire had been choking him without relent for a while now.

“Oh no you don’t,” Spike snarled, shoving the demon onto the ground. He waited to see if he’d make a run for it, and was disappointed when the demon just lay there coughing as he tried to catch his breath. He wanted to hit something. Ever since he’d mentioned the Slayer, he’d had a vague feeling of discontent – that manifested into full-blown worry when he suddenly realized that he couldn’t sense her. “Who the bloody hell is Drake?”

“Please…I’ll tell you on the way. But the more we delay, the less likely she’ll be alive. Do… do you have a means of transportation to get around during daylight hours?”

Something in the demon’s tone struck a chord with Spike and he hurriedly grabbed the comforter off the bed. He just prayed his contact from last night had already secured the vehicle and the necessary supplies he’d asked for and it was waiting for him like he’d asked.

“Well, what are you waiting for… let’s go.” Spike bent down and hauled the demon to his feet. “This way. ’m warnin’ you… if you try to run, you’ll be dead before you can go two feet.”

Daniel believed him.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy knew something was wrong the moment she came to. She could feel a cool breeze floating over her skin and she cracked one eye to glance around and received a punch to her face for her effort.

“Ahhh… she’s awake. Good. It’s no fun if they’re not awake for it,” the gruff voice announced.

Buffy heard the whirl and tried to lift her head to distinguish the sound. Her vision was blurry after the blow to her head, all she made out was a tattooed blur. She quickly found out, however, when the tip of the whip connected with her bare upper thigh, the force of the blow spinning her to the right. A second later, another hit landed; this time on the other one. She sucked in a breath and refused to utter a sound, no matter how much she was screaming inside her head.  

After the sixth consecutive stroke, the front of her legs felt like they were on fire. She glared daggers at her tormentor and nearly buckled under the sting delivered expertly to each side of her face. Not an easy feat given that she hung suspended from the ceiling, her arms pressed close to the sides of her face. Her legs dangled about a foot off the ground and were manacled as well, the chains secured to a ring in the floor, preventing her from moving too far away from her vertical position.  

Another blow landed, this time to her exposed midriff. She sucked in a breath and bit her lip to keep from crying out.

“Don’t worry, Slayer. Another five minutes of this…” Drake punctuated his comment with four cracks of his whip in quick succession. “…and I’ll hear you beg for me to stop.”

“Fuck you,” Buffy growled.

Another flick of his wrist and the tip landed across her lips.

“Watch yer mouth, little girl.”

Buffy spat out blood, reeling from the pain of that last blow. It still didn’t stop her from egging him on. “Kiss my ass.”

Enraged by the girl’s false bravado, he tore into her with his whip for a solid fifteen minutes, not relenting until the strain in his arm indicated that he’d been going at it for a while. When the haze of his anger wore off, she was hanging limply by her chains having passed out some time ago.

“Get the water. I’m not through with her yet.”

Soundlessly, the two unobtrusive underlings did as he asked.

Buffy gasped as the cold water drenched her skin. The pain hit her the next instant, radiating along her exposed limbs and causing her to hiss in a breath; she couldn’t help the whimpered moan that escaped her slack lips as the agony of the numerous lash marks tore along her nerve endings.

The stench of her blood assaulted her nostrils and she glanced down at her body. Her underwear was hanging on by a thread. But, it was the destruction to the rest of her that made Buffy want to gag. Red lines marred every inch of her naked flesh, some gashes deeper than others – though all of them bled, running down her pale body until she was bathed in her own blood.

She forced herself to swallow around the nausea building in her throat at the sight of her mangled flesh and lifted her head to glare at the man.

“That the best you got?” she coughed out. “Hafta say… not impressed.”

“I’m just getting started, Slayer. Don’t you worry.”

~*~*~*~*~

With Daniel sitting in white-knuckled fear next to him, Spike tore through the streets of Tel Aviv arriving in half the time it had taken Drake. The wheels of the blackened-out Land Rover screeched to a halt, and Spike took but a moment to grab the comforter, then he was out the car door like a shot and racing towards the entrance to the building.

He burst through the front door, his preternatural gaze taking in the scene before him in an instant; the half-breed poised to deliver the Slayer’s deathblow, his sword poised in front of her heart, the two human lackeys standing stoically against a far wall, eyes downcast.  

Spike’s reacted as if on autopilot. One minute he was in the entryway, the next he’d slammed into the Slayer’s would-be executioner. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of her broken body, and rage unlike anything he’d ever felt before stole through his body. Unmindful of anything around him, he attacked the half-breed without mercy, taking great delight in inflicting as much pain and agony as had been done to his girl. Tormenting him. Throwing him up against wall after wall, claws digging into his flesh at random, fangs delving into any exposed skin.

He didn’t notice Daniel as he found the key to the shackles and released the Slayer’s broken body into his waiting arms. How he soundless left the building praying softly that they still had enough time to save her. How, once outside, he gently settled her in the back seat of the Land Rover and placed a blanket he’d found folded up on the floor over her unconscious half-naked form.  

No, Spike was in a blinding rage, with no end in sight.

“Vampire.”

The calming voice tugged at his senses, and Spike lifted his head to seek out the source. His amber gaze took in Daniel standing quietly by the door, waiting. He snarled at being interrupted.

“If we don’t leave now, your Slayer will die. There isn’t much time. Already we may be—”

Daniel watched at the vampire calmly-as-you-pleased snapped the half-breed’s neck and grabbed his quilt. The abrupt change in his demeanor started him so, that he was almost to the vehicle before Daniel thought to hurry after him.

Spike settled himself behind the wheel, started the engine, then glanced over at Daniel.

“Where…?” His voice trailed off. The smell of the Slayer’s blood was nearly overwhelming in its intensity. He could hear her wavering pulse, her shallow breaths – like she was hanging on to life by a thread.

“Back to the city. Hurry, but watch the bumps. I think one of her lungs may have been punctured. Remember the demon bar you went to?”

“Yeah…”

“Drive around back. I’ll see if Sheila is there. She’s… a healer…”

“What is it you’re not saying, mate?”  

“She’s… well… she doesn’t like vampires. I’m going to have to take the Slayer inside. Convince her to help.”

The Land Rover ground to a halt, and Spike reached over and grabbed Daniel by the throat. “I don’t care what it takes, but you get the bird to fix my girl. Understand?”

“Y-Yes… I understand. But—”

“No buts. Whatever it takes.” Spike shoved the demon away and put the car in gear, his speed balanced between his desire to see them there with all possible haste and what he felt the Slayer’s body could handle.

~*~*~*~*~

“He said that?” Sheila asked, astonished, her eyes still roaming intently over the Slayer’s broken body.

“Yes.”  

“And he’d willingly tie himself to her—”

“He already has. Haven’t you noticed his marks?”

Her hands stilled in their roving assessment of the girl’s body, an inch or so away from actually touching her skin. Sheila frowned, moving to the Slayer’s head to swipe at the blood on either side of her neck. When she came across the unfading bite marks, she recoiled slightly, shocked. She turned and gifted her friend with a slight smile.

“Daniel, I think we may finally see an end to the Order.”

Sheila flung back the hood of the cape revealing white-blond hair and piercing green eyes. They began to glow brightly, as did her hands, as she lowered them to the Slayer’s unconscious form. The light soon enveloped the Slayer’s body and the cuts and bruises began fading away as the magic of the healing demon went to work on her internal injuries.

When she was finished, Sheila removed her hands and resettled the hood of her cloak about her head.

“Take her back to the vampire.”

Daniel moved forward with the blanket in his hand, resettling the cloth about the Slayer’s nude body. The force of the healing demon’s magic had disintegrated the torn remains of her underwear, leaving her naked as the day she was born – which was a small component of Sheila’s magic. He picked the girl up and moved to the door.

“And Daniel? Not a word of this to either of them. They must be willing to risk it all. It’s the only way for them to defeat Sylam.”

“It will be as you say.”

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