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Chapter 4

Daniel was almost hesitant to walk outside to where the vampire sat impatiently inside his vehicle, the Slayer bundled up tight and held protectively in his arms. At one point, he’d been certain he was going to have his head bitten off for telling Spike that he would have to remain in the car when he went to seek out the healer. He barely repressed a shudder at the look he’d been given and mentally reminded himself to never get on the vampire’s bad side.

Shifting the Slayer in his arms slightly, he edged open the door to the back seat and set her down carefully, mindful of her modesty. He was all set to fade back into the background and let the two finish their quest, but Spike’s growled, “Get in,” quickly negated that idea. Daniel didn’t doubt the vampire would be out of the vehicle and after him like a shot, no matter that the sun had yet to dip behind the horizon. He’d shown that he had no qualms in traveling during daylight hours – which was probably why the two had been able to escape the Order’s notice for so long.

But then, the sect wasn’t looking for the pair to be traveling together. The pact they’d formed had gone a long way towards prolonging both of their lives.

And now with what Sheila had done...

Daniel slid warily into the front passenger seat, watching the vampire out of the corner of his eye as he hugged the car door without trying to appear obvious.

“You can relax. ’m not gonna eat ya.”

There was enough menace in the vampire’s voice that Daniel didn’t entirely believe him. His hand stayed close to the door handle just in case, but he settled himself more comfortably in his seat – mindful not to piss off the vampire by ignoring his terse command.

Spike rolled his eyes at the demon’s posture. He bit back another retort, determined to play nice. The sod had saved his girl, after all; the least he could do was be civil to him. Plus, he had a bunch of questions to which he needed answers. Earlier, as they’d raced to where the Slayer was being held prisoner, hasty introductions were performed. Daniel had then explained that he was a Q’lathnyack demon. That they’d been a peaceful species until they’d been dominated by the Order of Taraka and forced into becoming killers because of their unique ability to “disappear.” The men had rebelled at first, until the Order had started murdering their women and children. Daniel had told of his harrowing escape, how he’d been living on the run for the last century. How he’d spent that time picking off the Order’s assassins one by one – but to little effect.

A few minutes later, Spike had reached their hotel. He parked the car, then sat there for a moment, trying to figure out how he was going to get the Slayer inside.

“I’ll bring her… just to the doorway,” Daniel added when he sensed the vampire about to argue.

Spike didn’t like it, but the demon was right. He grabbed his quilt and dashed out the door to race to the side entrance of the hotel. Once within the safety of the building, he turned and waited while Daniel followed at a more leisurely pace.

He had barely crossed the threshold before Spike was snatching the Slayer out of his hands and starting down the hallway towards their room. He wasn’t paying the demon any mind, his concern only for the slip of a girl held protectively in his arms, but knew that he followed behind just the same.

As he reached their door, Spike did a bit of juggling to reach his key – there was no way in hell that he was relinquishing his Slayer any more today. Hell, from now on, if she wanted to go out, she was just going to have to wait for him. He didn’t think he could live through another episode like today.

Daniel made himself busy looking over the books on the table while the vampire settled the recovering Slayer in bed. One eye remained on him as Spike removed the protective blanket, noted the slight stiffening upon realizing the girl’s state of undress. But other than a slight indrawn breath, he made no move to attack, something for which Daniel was extremely grateful. Though vampires were generally a promiscuous lot, this one was rather protective of the diminutive human now resting beneath the covers.

He heard a slight rustling and looked up from the table to see Spike walking towards him. The look in his eyes – worry mixed with hope – heartened Daniel. Proved that he’d been right in the assessment he’d given to Sheila. He could feel his own hopes start to rise. This vampire, along with the claimed Slayer, might actually pull it off.

And Daniel would do whatever it took, provide whatever information he could, to help the pair in their quest.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike stripped off his clothes and climbed in the bed beside the Slayer. Daniel has left a bit ago after hours spent strategizing on how best to sneak into the Order’s stronghold without discovery. He had shown the demon the map of the compound that they’d unearthed, and Daniel had pointed out several secret passages – slave’s passages – that could prove useful in a pinch. He’d nodded and marked on the map, committing the places to memory.

Daniel had gone on to talk about Sylam, the head of the Order of Taraka, and his right-hand man, Desdem. He’d regaled Spike with tales of the pair’s cruelty, something that the vampire could appreciate… if the resulting actions weren’t centered their way.

But, all of that – the information about the two, the ins-and-outs of the stronghold – none of that seemed to matter. It was the demon’s ominous words that had him pulling the Slayer close and purring reassuringly in her ear as he allowed the warmth of her body to lull him into sleep.

“You must be prepared to give up everything to defeat him.”

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy felt the tip of the whip slice into her breast and cried out in pain. Unlike before, when her body swung about in the chains with the force of the blow, this time, this time she stood unmoving as she was struck again and again.

The sound of his name – Spike’s name – bubbled up in her throat, and she struggled to keep it locked inside. She couldn’t – wouldn’t – permit her tormentor to wrangle the vampire’s name from her lips. Better for her to die, thus enabling the vampire to at least slip back to his brethren and disappear.

She heard the hiss of the whip as he drew back his arm and prepared to strike; she knew his next target and lifted defiant eyes to the hulking man-demon looming before her, daring him to mar her lips for refusing to give up her accomplice’s name.

He didn’t stop with her mouth, flaying her alive, turning her pale skin into a sea of red lines. She prayed for oblivion, for mind-numbing unconsciousness. He knew it too. And laughed maniacally while continuing his assault on her body.

“Who will save you now, Slayer?”

~*~*~*~*~

“Slayer!”

Buffy jerked awake, opening her eyes and noting the concerned amber gaze of the vampire looming above her.

“Spike?” she tried to get out around her dry throat. She watched as his face shifted, the rippled brows retreating and his eyes fading back to a blue so deep it took her breath away. But it was the concern in their depths that caused her to crumple. To finally give in to the tears she’d refused to shed.

Spike rolled to his back, bringing the Slayer to his side, holding her close as she gave in to the evil that had been done to her. He soothed her as best he could, running his hands down her back, over her arms. Reassuring himself, and her, that no marks remained on her pale body. That what had been done to her had been completely eradicated – except for the memories that lingered to torment her mind.

She was blubbering now, indistinguishable words and phrases that made no sense as her hysteria built. Spike pulled her closer until she was all but lying on top of him. But it wasn’t enough; she continued to fidget above him.

As if her back was exposed to the whip and she was trying to escape it.

With sudden insight, he rolled her beneath him, whispering in the Slayer’s ear that he would protect her. That the whip would have to go through him to reach her now. The words eventually penetrated her brain and she stopped her hysteric babbling, though she still continued to cry.

Spike leaned up on one elbow and watched helplessly while she purged herself of her tears. It was worse than before. When— he hesitated to even think the name. She’d cried then too. Not like now, though. The wrong had been done to her this time, and while no mark was visible on her body, she’d been violated rather brutally and it was her mind that needed to heal now.

It was awhile before she stopped, slipping back into an uneasy sleep. Spike finally relaxed his tense body, allowing himself to lay flush on top of the Slayer. His face nuzzled in her neck and he tried to get comfortable. It was an awkward position, but when he’d tried earlier to shift his weight off her, she’d clung to his back until he’d stopped moving. Sighing, he closed his eyes and slept.  

~*~*~*~*~

When he woke, Spike was on his back and the Slayer was tucked against his side. His senses told him that it was still dark, but dawn was edging closer. He would have liked to change their location, pick a different motel, but he didn’t want to have to wake the Slayer. Better for him to take the chance and allow her to fully recover where they were than move to a new place and have their stay prolonged even more.

Besides, if he knew Daniel, the demon would be lurking about until they’d left Tel Aviv behind. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if the demon followed them until they reached the Order stronghold.

Spike knew he should have gotten out of bed. Since being in the Slayer’s company, his sleeping patterns had been drastically changed. If he didn’t watch it, he’d be sleeping all night and then climbing the walls because he was stuck inside hiding from the sun all day. He started to do just that, but then Buffy moaned in her sleep and he pulled her even closer and closed his eyes once more.

This time, it was late afternoon when he roused himself. He’d managed to sleep the remainder of the night and most of the next day.

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