Chapter Seven

Two Months Ago

Buffy took one look at the examining room and almost regretted taking Echo’s place. Almost. But she was a slayer, and one reason she was selected as so was her altruism. She averted her eyes from the sharp tools next to a table she assumed awaited just for her. The vampire nudged her forward.

Suddenly she got an idea. She sprung into action, diving for the medical tools. She grabbed the fiercest looking one, a long hook. She hated to think what its purpose was. She waved it out in front of her, determined to create another use.

“Don’t be stupid,” the vampire warned.

She ignored the words, coming at him. He managed to snatch her arm. She flailed around. She focused her strength and got free. She didn’t hesitate and jammed the scary tool into his heart. He hollered, falling to his knees.

Too bad it wasn’t wood. It’d only postpone him. She had to think fast. If she had her complete ability she’d be able to twist his neck. She glanced around. Was there a saw? No such luck, but there was a knife. Maybe she could cut his head off. She recalled the time she cut at the varsity vamp’s neck with a tiny exacto knife. It’d take work, but . . .

Someone else entered. Buffy turned around and dropped the knife.

“Riley!?” she gasped.

He stepped up to stand over her. “Hello, Buffy.”

The vampire clutched his chest, raised his head, and said, “Carefull, Finn, I think the relaxers are wearing off.”

“Already?” Riley smirked. “Slayer constitution.”

“The slayers were wiped out,” the vampire croaked.

“All except one.” Riley’s eyes bore into hers. They were different. Something was different about him.

“How?” Buffy whispered.

His hand wrapped around her wrist. She jerked at his icy flesh and it all fell into place. She shook her head.

“Oh, Riley, I’m sorry,” Buffy said.

“We already went over this, Buffy. Save your sorries. I don’t need them.”

Out of nowhere he lifted a syringe. He jabbed her arm before she could react. It took immediate effect. She slumped in his arms. Powerful stuff. He gathered her up. He cradled her close, smoothing down her hair, his lips close to her ear.

“Things didn’t have to be this way. All you had to do was let me change you. But now it’s too late.”

Buffy cringed.

He settled her down on the table. There were leather straps, which he fastened into place.

Riley turned his head. “Leave. This is my job.”

The other vampire scurried away.

All she could do was watch as he held up a tiny piece of silicon.

“Here it is.” He gazed at it almost like a lover. “Amazing isn’t it? So small, but so powerful. Sorta like you.” He put the chip down onto the nearby table. “We thought you were under control. I told them that we couldn’t trust you, that you were unpredictable at first. But then I was curious. And so I came to test you. You let me do all sorts of naughty things.” His hand traveled up her leg to rest on her inner-thigh. She tried to flinch away, but her muscles wouldn’t obey.

“I agreed, you were broken. But you were hiding inside, weren’t you? Somewhere.” He shook his head. “Too bad. Your power needs to be kept in check.”

Oh God. Oh God.

Was this how Spike felt when he realized he was about ready to be controlled? So helpless, so scared.

“Now for the fun part. The examination. We have to be sure everything is in working order. Would be a waste of money to dispose of a chip that lasted less than a year.”

He took a pair of medical scissors. She made a weak sound of protest as he began to cut the fabric of her clothing. He stripped her down to nothing. She closed her eyes, completely humiliated.

He prodded and poked. Buffy traveled somewhere else. Somewhere far away from it all. Somewhere where she was loved, protected . . . home. Somewhere where Spike was with her.

“Mmm,” Buffy moaned. “I love your chest. I declare it mine.”

He chuckled, shaking said chest. “Should I get a tattoo, pet? One that says ‘Buffy’s Pillow’.”

She burrowed deeper into him. “I like that plan. Should I get one for you? What part do you want to claim?”

He playfull growled and flipped her over. He proceeded to roam over her body. Her naked flesh ignited with a thousand volts of electricity. She shivered from the intensity.

“Which part of my slayer do I proclaim mine? Hmmm?” He smirked. He held up her right leg. “Her calf is quite exquisite. But her thigh . . . Oh, but I think I like her bum even better.”

She lifted off the mattress to let him squeeze both cheeks. He ran up the sides of her waist next. Then he leaned down to play with her belly-button. She giggled, squirming. She tangled her fingers in his disheveled bleached locks.

He went for the pressure point at her neck. He nipped with blunt teeth. She gasped when he felt her breast. He lifted his head to examine her eyes. She became absorbed in his own potent blue ones. She could have gotten lost there to never return.

“I can’t choose. Can’t I have all of you?” He sounded like a little boy asking for a puppy at Christmas time but knowing his parents were allergic.

“Only if I can have all of you in return,” she replied.

“You already do, Buffy. Always. Forever. You know that.”

“Always, forever,” she agreed.

She spread herself fully and brought her hips up. He nudged the tip of his cock at the entrance of her folds. He closed his eyes and pushed inside. They just held each other for a moment, aghast at their wholeness. Buffy realized then that they would always belong to each other. My other half, she thought. My soulmate.

Then he began to move. He went deeper and deeper, into her core, into her entire being. She parted her lips, her breathing hard, her heart beating more than enough for the both of them. She arched her back, begging for more friction, for a quicker pace. Fill me up. Make me whole. Take all of me. Let us merge together. Let us never be apart again.

Yes, like that.

She grabbed hold of his shoulder and dug her nails deep into his flesh. Her walls fluttered around him. She collapsed completely, crying out his name. His eyes rolled back in his head. He lifted his head and hollered like an animal.

They fell back on the bed, exhausted, still linked.

“Oh, luv . . . That was . . .”

“Uh huh.” She panted.

It could have been forever later, or maybe only a few seconds, she didn’t know. He shifted.

“Somebody should check on Hope,” Spike said.

“Who?”

He lifted a brow, giving her a funny look.

“Buffy Summers, you have to snap out of it.”

Buffy gathered up the covers and covered herself. She glared at the funny looking man next to the bed. She frantically searched the now empty space beside her.

“Where did he go?” Buffy asked.

Whistler sat down on the bed. She sat up, scooting to the edge.

“Do you ever want to see your friends again? Your family? Then you have to wake up.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t want to. Can’t I stay here?”

“You’ll get your happily ever after, kid. But you’ll never reach it if you play pretend,” the half-demon told her.

“Promise?”

He paused. “Promise. Now, wake up.”

“Wakey, wakey, slayer.”

Buffy groaned. She squinted against the whiteness of the room.

“Passed out on me, Buffy. We’re not even to the enjoyable part yet.”

Something cold slid over her bared stomach. She managed to lift her head enough to glance down. It was some kind of metal device. Riley examined the small screen on the top, giving him figures. He suddenly halted the scan. He held the gadget up to get a closer look.

Riley peeked at Buffy and then back at the screen. “Can’t be.”

Buffy was beginning to get a very bad feeling. What could it say? Could it somehow detect that she was a traveler from another dimension?

Riley’s eyes hardened.

The electric doors opened. Another vampire entered. He wore a long white lab coat.

“How is it coming along, Finn?”

Riley wasn’t able to speak. He passed the micro-computer scanny thing over. The scientist vamp almost dropped it. He shakily placed it down. He stared at Buffy with awe and a tinge of fright.

What? What is it? What do you see?

“Are you sure?” the lab-coat questioned.

“Positive, sir. I checked twice,” Riley said.

“Check again.”

Riley took up the instrument. He hesitantly stepped over to Buffy. He placed the metal back over her belly.

Do they see what’s inside? Buffy thought. Oh no, this isn’t happening. Buffy prayed Whistler was right. That her baby was safe.

Riley examined the readings. “Same thing.”

“Get a complete log.”

The scientist pulled Riley over to the door. They spoke in a hushed tone. They must have thought that she wouldn’t be able to hear. Riley never came to realize the intensity of slayer senses. She could hear every word loud and clear.

“Do more tests. Pin-point the cause of this. Do a DNA detection. Track down the father,” lab-coat ordered.

Riley nodded.

“The sooner the better. The implications of this . . .”

“She’s a slayer, sir.”

“A what?”

“I knew her before I was reborn. We thought she wasn’t a threat, so we let her live. A big mistake. Maybe we should just get rid of her and be done with this mess.”

“No do. This might be a sign that the humans are repairing themselves genetically. We have to keep her around until we know for sure.”

“Yes, sir. But her ability to impregnate might be for the slayer alone. The sickness might have by-passed her,” Riley informed.

The other vamp nodded. “But there is still the question of the father. He could reproduce. Find him, understand?”

“Yes, sir. I-I understand.”

* * * * * * * *

Riley waited impatiently as the computer checked the fetus DNA scan for a paternal match. Finally the screen changed, bringing up the results.

No match.

Riley gritted his teeth. There was no way Buffy Summers was another Mary. There had to be a father. He told the computer to search the deceased.

No match.

Impossible. A baby couldn’t appear out of nowhere.

Riley brought up a virtual replica of the DNA strands to examine himself. He saw something he’d never come across before. Instead of a double helix step-ladder, he was staring at a tightly bound braided rope. He needed a second opinion. He sent the information to the head DNA processor. If she couldn’t make heads or tails out of this no one could.

When the phone rang he snatched it up. “What are your partakes in the matter?”

“Finn, I have here a miracle child. A one of a kind. This is no human being. The molecular structure is . . . Well, I can’t believe I’m going to say this but . . . If I break it apart I can distinguish a group of nucleotides almost human. Almost. But there seems to be an increased ability of cell repair. In the other half, it resembles that of a vampire.”


Riley blinked.


“I’m talking power here beyond imaginable. Are you with me?”


“I’m with you,” Riley said. “So, the father must be a vampire?”


“I-It would appear so.”


Riley hung up. He told the computer to search matches for vampires.


One match. Riley leaned forward.


William the Bloody.


Turned 1880 in London. Head leader of the Initiative Revolution of October, 1999.


But Riley knew all this already.


He had to find Spike. Which wouldn’t be hard. Afterall, Spike was his sire.

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Spikey will make an appearance next chappy.