AN: Firstly, I realise it has been AGES since I updated any of my fics. Most probably don't even remember where the story is up to or have given up on it by now, but I have recently written be able to write a few more chapters and don't want to leave my fic unfinished if I can help it. I’m not promising any kind or regularity with updates, but I am trying to get things finished. Enjoy.

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Chapter 23


The air around her was thick with Silas’ steadily growing presence. It pounded into her in waves, making her stomach roll threateningly. There was something about the feeling of his presences that made her feel sick—beyond that of the memory of his hands against her skin and what he might have planned for her.

Buffy struggled vainly against the knee that was bruising her back, twisting against Riley’s hold and the tight grip he had on her arms and the back of her head. He grunted but didn’t shift, instead his fingers gripped her more tightly and she whimpered as he ground his knee painfully down into her back.

Buffy felt herself switch from desperate to panicked in the blink of an eye. She was trapped; Riley held her almost completely immobile and vulnerable to any attack from above. She felt her demon surge within her and she almost cried out in relief as the Buffy part of her passively stepped back and let it take over.

Her demon snarled threateningly as it burst across her features and hardened her determination as her survival instincts kicked into gear. It was like releasing a caged and tormented lion that charged for freedom the moment the cage door was opened only to find it was still chained to the ground. Her demon whimpered and growled pitiful as she violently bucked and twisted against Riley’s hold. Tears she had managed to hold at bay until now began to leak down her face; she knew with absolute certainty that she could not still be here when Silas arrived.

Riley growled and Buffy cried out as his sharpened nails began to dig painfully into her flesh.

“Get off me! Please, let me go!” She growled doing nothing to keep the desperation from leaking into her voice. She felt the hand that held the back of her head loosen, and for one glorious moment she could almost believe that he had listened to her. The moment was shattered as his hand twisted painfully in her hair again, yanking her head back up off the ground with a snarl as he lowered his mouth to her ear.

“No,” he growled before brutally slamming her head into the floor below. Buffy went limp in his grasp as she slipped effortlessly into oblivion.


*****


Silas’ eyes zeroed in on Buffy’s form as he stepped over the threshold to the small apartment. She was magnificent—even stretched out unconscious along the floor, blood pooling under her head, more than likely from a wound she had sustained on her forehead. He felt a small twinge of annoyance lance through him that she had been damaged but he pushed it aside—it would heal. Soon she would be his again.

The minion that had held her scuttled back as Silas swept over to her, crouching by her side and rolling her carefully onto her back. Blood was still sluggishly oozing from her wound and trailing down the side of her face, staining her hair and clothes a glorious red. He reached out gently and traced his fingers down the line of her cheek, before he lifted them absently to his mouth.

She would be his.

He had intended to perform a Second Turning on her before the Mating just as the Aurelians had done to her when they had ripped her from his side over a millennium ago. If Silas had learnt one thing from surviving for as long as he had, it was that nothing ever went exactly as planned. He had run out of time to go through the necessary process of performing both a Second Turning and a Mating Ceremony. It didn’t matter though; one way or another she would be his by the end of the night.

Scooping her limp form up into his arms he turned and laid her out along the length of the ex-Watcher’s coffee table after sending its contents clattering to the floor.

“Restrain her,” he snapped at two minions who stood with a group of minions who had loitered just inside the door of the apartment. “The rest of you get to work on preparing the room for the ritual.”

Silas watched with an air of anticipation as they moved quickly and efficiently to follow his orders. The area was cleared of the mounds of books and papers that littered the small space and the furniture pushed to the sides of the room. A ring of black candles was quickly laid out in a circle around Buffy’s form which lay strapped down to the coffee table in the centre of the room. Later he would pour a ring of sand around that again which would act as a protection barrier ensuring that once the ritual had begun, nothing—and no one—would be able to get within it to stop the proceedings from occurring.

A satisfied smile made its way across his face at the thought.

“Sire?”

Silas looked down at the minion who stood before him, head lowered in submission. “Yes?”

“We’re ready,” the minion replied.

Silas took the proffered bag of sand and stepped into the circle. The lights in the room were switched off and the room was plunged into partial darkness. The ring of black candles glowed eerily, set around the pair of them like a burning halo. They were the only source of illumination in the room, making the forms of his minions look like shadows stretched out along the walls.

Suddenly, a tingle of awareness prickled over him and a slow smirk erupted across his face. Taking a deep unneeded breath Silas began to pour the sand.

The Aurelians were on their way.


*****


Spike had exited the car before the wheels had come to a complete stop. He could feel the tingle of Buffy’s presence nearby, and the thought of that monster having his hands on her was more than he cared to think about. The metallic smell of blood was thick in the air, and although the majority of what he smelt didn’t belong to Buffy, there was an undertone of her scent within it.

He could hear both Angelus and Christian following behind him as his feet carried him swiftly down the stairs and into the small courtyard that led to Giles’ front door. He felt something like shock jolt through him as his eyes landed on the lifeless orbs of the man in question. Giles was dead. A prickling sensation seemed to break out across his skin as the fact slammed into him with the cold hard truth of the body lying before him, yet despite that, Spike’s pace never slowed as he neared. He knew that later, if he made it through to the end of this disaster with Silas, that he would grieve for the loss of this man, if only for the fact that he had helped them in their quest to save Buffy, but now was not the time for such feelings.

Spike stepped over Giles’ body with ease as he reached for the door that stood partially open. He knew what he was likely to find behind the door, he knew that Silas’ lingering presence must mean that they had Buffy in some way, but nothing could have prepared him for what stood beyond that door.

Spike ground to a complete stop as he took in the sight of Buffy and he felt his rage boil over. The slight hesitation cost him, giving Silas the time he needed to complete the circle of sand that now surrounded both Buffy’s prone form and the Ancient who stood at her side. Silas turned to Spike with a smug smile and threw a bag of sand at his feet. The red coloured grains spilled out over his shoes to puddle on the floor around him.

“She’s mine,” Silas growled possessively, the note of triumph in his voice easily noted.

“She’ll never be yours,” Spike growled back as he heard Angelus and Christian enter the room behind him.

“She’s always been mine,” Silas countered as he moved to Buffy’s side and brushed her hair back from her face before allowing his fingers to trail down her face and neck to rest gently over the place he hand chosen to mark her. “She will always be mine. Only mine.”

“Get your hands off her,” Spike snarled.

Silas smirked at Spike as he leant over slowly and let his lips graze the taut skin of Buffy’s throat teasingly. “Try and stop me,” he goaded as he leant in and let his lips brush softly across hers.

Spike took the bait and charged at the circle. Silas’ smirk widened into a grin as the vampire slammed forcefully into the protective barrier that had been erected around him and Buffy and was thrown backwards violently.

Spike blanched as he looked back at the undisturbed ring of sand and a sickly wave of comprehension washed over him. Silas had blocked him out, leaving him with no means of reaching Buffy’s side. She was trapped within the confines of the circle with a monster.

A restraining hand wrapped itself around Spike’s elbow and he felt Angelus’ presence at his side. “So you have her, now what do you plan on doing with her?” His sire asked as he made his presence known to the Ancient. “You know a Second Turning will only work if both parties are willing, and somehow I don’t think she’s willing. It might just be me, but usually if you have to strap someone down to keep them from trying to escape, then they don’t want to be there.”

“Oh? Well I guess you would know, wouldn’t you Angelus?” Silas smirked.

Angelus ignored the bait, “You didn’t answer my question.”

Silas smiled at him but remained silent, instead turning his attention back to the woman laid out before him, his beloved. He swept her blond hair back from her face and neck and turned her head to the side, exposing the taut skin of her throat. Finally the moment had come, and everything he had been longing for would at last be fulfilled. He morphed into his demon and struck.

Silas ignored Spike’s enraged growls, as rich blood blossomed into his mouth. Moaning in ecstasy, he swallowed mouthful after mouthful. He could feel the blood working its way through his system, healing his neglected body and restoring him to his former glory. The room around him fell away as he drank deeper and deeper. It was almost poetic that it was her loss that had emaciated him and it would be her blood that restored him.

Finally he tore his mouth away from her neck, forcing himself to stop before he went too far and the ritual that would bind them could no longer be completed.

He glanced up at the Aurelians and his former second in command and smiled at the devastation he saw written across their faces. He gave the nod to his minions but didn’t bother to watch as they advanced on the trio; he knew a couple of minions wouldn’t take them out but they would provide enough of a distraction. Silas smiled down at the woman before him. Finally he was taking back what had always been rightfully his, and that’s all that mattered.


*****


Christian watched on with an odd sort of detachment as things began to fall apart around them. They had no choice but to fight off the minions that advanced on them. Spike ripped into them with a rage like Christian doubted he had ever seen. He was moving from minion to minion literally tearing their heads off with his bare hands. Angelus too was taking out his anger and frustrations on the minions he encountered, although his emotions were more controlled. Yet one by one minions were falling to dust at their feet at an alarming rate, until there were a mere handful left standing who were willing to stake their chances against two enraged master vampires.

Christian had seen enough. He eyed the bag of red sand that lay on the floor a few paces away. Despite Silas’ age, Christian knew that if there was a weak point in his sire’s plan it would be with the ritual. Silas had always hated the intricacies of magic with a passion. Christian found himself hoping this time would be no different. Silas had them beat when it came to strength and speed, but maybe—just maybe—they could beat him with magic.

Scooping it up with one hand he dragged Spike to his side with the other, catching Angelus’ eye as he dusted the last of the minions.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?” Spike snapped yanking his arm back almost violently.

Christian shot him a look and held up the bag of sand, “Trying to get us inside that circle.”

Angelus eyed him critically, “You can do that?”

“I don’t know,” Christian admitted, “It’s worth a shot, though. We don’t have much time.”

Spike and Angelus swung around to take in the scene playing out behind them. Silas had used the distraction of his minions to begin the ritual undisrupted. He was sitting at her side, his hands on either side of her face as he muttered a string of invocations under his breath. Still out cold, Buffy arched beneath his touch as one hand gently began to trace a line down her neck and between the valley of her breasts to rest over her silent heart. Spike couldn’t tell if she was reacting in pleasure or pain, he told himself it was the latter.

Spike growled and ripped his attention away. “Right, what’s the plan?”

“We extend the circle,” Christian answered, again holding out the bag of sand, “I don’t know if it will work, but perhaps if we create a circle around ourselves connecting the main circle, we might be able to break the original line and get inside.”

Angelus nodded. “We try then.”

“I just hope we have enough sand,” Christian muttered. “We’ll have to press in close to make sure we have enough to circle around us.”

The Aurelians moved in closer without a word. Spike’s attention had returned once more to Buffy’s helpless form. A warm glow was beginning to emanate from her body, spiralling outwards from where Silas’ hands rested against her form to cover her body. What was he doing to her?

Silas was ignoring their attempts to break his protective circle or else was too wrapped up in the ritual to care. Spike noticed there were no minions with him inside the circle, perhaps if they could capture him by surprise...

Angelus squeezed his shoulder gently recapturing his attention, “We’ll get her back, Will. No matter what happens.”

Spike stared at his sire, willing himself to find a shred of truth in Angelus’ words.

“Be careful not to disrupt the line once I’ve begun pouring,” Christian interrupted. Spike and Angelus nodded seriously.

Christian took a deep breath and began. There wasn’t a lot of sand left in the bag, perhaps just enough for their purpose. He was careful to keep the line as thin as possible without breaking the continuous flow of red grains. He didn’t know if this would work, or whether he was meant to be saying something as he poured, but he had to trust that simply laying out the sand would be enough.

The line sparked as the last of the sand completed their circle and Christian felt something like hope light up within him that maybe it had worked after all.

“What does that mean?” Spike bit out impatiently.

“Hopefully, that it worked,” Christian answered sharing a look with Angelus before crouching down before the original line. He reached out slowly, relaxing when he touched the circle without anything adverse happening. Slowly sliding his fingers into the red grains he began to separate them slowly.

Angelus shivered as he felt the magic of the protection circle was over him, “I think its working.”

Christian nodded, severing the line completely and sitting back to admire his handiwork. He held an arm out cautiously and waved it through the air where the protection barrier should have been.

Christian smiled, “We’re in.”

Spike was moving before the words were out of Christian’s mouth. Snarling, he pushed his way into the circle charging the vampire leaning over his girl.

Angelus felt the floor drop out from underneath him and his stomach lurch. His childe was rushing an Ancient.


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AN: Thanks to Slackerace for the amazing beta.