To the wonderful reader who nominated this fic at the FL_AWARDS, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. And thank you for the nomination for best new author – YOU ALL ROCK










Chapter 10


AN* Well my friends, I hope you were all happy with the Spuffy in the last chapter.

Now it’s time to move the plot on a little. I know its evil, I know you want more Spuffy, and I know you want to kill me, but we need to sort out the prophecy.

Or do you want our man to die? No….I didn’t think so.

Now let’s get some things sorted, shall we?


##


Presiding over the gathering of demons, close to the mouth of hell, stood Janson of Salano. He had come far from his own dimension into this earth plane just to oversee the demise of the slayer. His personal interest in her death was known to few, and he preferred to keep it that way. It had been over two earth years since she had killed his wife, and he had waited that amount of time to avenge his beautiful Ilani’s death.

His brave, beautiful wife had travelled to this dimension to gather slaves. For two earth weeks she had walked the streets of the hellmouth town, picking the demons she wished to serve his household. It was while she was on this mission that the slayer found her. Each night her captives had been duly sent to his dimension, their will already broken by her torture. Then one day it had stopped. He had sent a trusted servant back to find his wife, and the demon had returned with the news that the slayer had killed her.

Now it would be her turn to suffer the torment of losing one that she loves.

Looking thoughtfully at his assorted gathering of demons, he smiled to himself. Hardly any had the brains, or the wit, to deal with one of the best slayers ever to walk the earth plane, yet they all wanted her dead. He had been told of the prophecy over one earth year before, and he had set his plans in motion since that time. Research had been the key to what would ultimately be the success of this adventure, and he had done his planning well.

Each line of the prophecy had been taken apart, and her close friends and family had been followed for months. The demons had studied her watcher first, but the bond between the slayer and he was not strong enough for vengeance. Her friends had been next on in line, but their association with partners meant that she was not close enough to them for their death to hurt her they way he wanted it to.

During their research on the slayer, the demons had discovered her association with the souled one in L.A. It would have been nice touch if she had still had strong feelings for the vampire, as his death would have been a great coup in their plans. But they had found that he had moved his affections to another female, and his death would not bring her down.

Her sister, Dawn, would do nicely.

He would have preferred to kill the slayer outright for the damage she had done to him. His advisors had assured him that the pain of watching a loved one die would be more punishment than she could bear. They believed, as he did himself, that she would sacrifice her own life to save that of someone she loved, and in doing so the prophecy would still be fulfilled. He felt no pang of conscious for what he intended to do on the night of the eclipse, and was impatient for it to begin.

High above the gathering where the humans walked the earth, his army were preparing for the ritual. The sacrificial altar had been made ready for the arrival of the slayer’s sister, and the robes she must wear had been perfumed and blessed. Graves had been robbed, and the candles made with human fat stood waiting to be lit. Rituals had been strictly adhered to, and the instruments of death had been sharpened to perfection.

Around the high altar, his subjects had scrubbed the floor clean. Each drop of their victim’s blood would ensure the success of their plan, and the sacred chalices had been polished to a shine; all the better to see the blood fall. Across from the altar, a set of manacles had been attached to the wall; their holding properties enhanced by the magic of the elders of his dimension.

Nothing must be left to chance.

Every demon under Janson’s command had been made aware of their role in the prophecy. Once he had dealt with the slayer’s sister, they could all have their one good day. It was his intention to use the chains to subdue the slayer while her sister was tortured to death; her head held still that she not look away. He had volunteered to do the torturing himself; in fact he would enjoy it. The demons could have slayer once he was sure her sister was dead.

His revenge would be complete when he broke the slayer’s heart, just as she had broken his.

There was still two nights of waiting before the hour of the Blood Red Moon. Before he retired, he selected one of his most trusted henchmen to him. “Find the loose-skinned demon that lives in the crypt. I want to know why there is a new vampire in town and why the slayer is not trying to kill him. If you don’t like his answers, bring him to me……I will make him talk.”

Bowing his head to acknowledge his master’s commands, the demon turned to leave the lair and complete his task.

Returning to his lair, well hidden in the bowels of the earth, Janson set himself to wait.

##

Joyce and Dawn sat open-mouthed as Giles finally told them all he knew of Spike’s life in the three years he had been gone. He told of his beating at the hands of the gang of human thugs, and the subsequent decision by the Council to remove his chip. When it came to describing how Spike had recovered, he conveniently forgot to mention his part in his healing.

Once a week, for six weeks, Giles had managed to persuade Buffy to allow him to take one pint of her blood. He had told her that he would freeze the supply to ensure that her blood was on hand should she be badly injured in a fight. Giles had wisely played on her aversion to hospitals as persuasion.

Buffy in her ignorance did not realise that blood, even frozen, did not have a long shelf life, and had readily agreed to his suggestion. The Council needed it fresh, and as soon as her blood had been removed, the bag had been carefully placed in a special container ready to be uplifted by a Council lackey.

How the packets of blood had journeyed to England, Giles neither knew nor cared. He was paid to do his duty by the Council, and if they wanted to keep William the Bloody alive, there had to be a reason.

Personally, he would have gladly let Spike die.

Joyce’s anger grew as Giles had relayed Spike’s story to full blown rage. How dare this stupid Englishman decide to keep secrets from her daughter when he professed to care for her. She could not less this pass.

“Are you seriously trying to tell me that you kept Spike’s whereabouts a secret for Buffy’s own good?” she spat at him from her seat on the couch. Dawn recoiled slightly from the anger in her mother’s voice, but inwardly she was proud of her for questioning Giles’ motives.

“Joyce,” Giles replied, his manner condescending. “I don’t think you quite understand the situation.”

Full blown rage now turned nuclear at his tone. “Don’t you dare speak to me in that manner in my own home. I am not one of your students, nor will I be lectured to by some jumped up pen-pusher who thinks he owns the world because he knows some magic words.”

Giles sat stunned at her assault. He had mistakenly thought that Joyce would be on his side when it came to dealing with Spike, but he realised quickly that he had misjudged her. Removing his glasses to polish them, as was his habit when nervous, he stared at the woman across from him.

“Giles,” her voice quiet, yet no less threatening. “Do you think that Buffy will do nothing when she finds out that you knew about Spike for at least two years? If she doesn’t kill you herself, then I just might.” Joyce ignored the watcher’s obvious discomforted reaction to her words, and continued to rant at him. “All you see when you look at Buffy is a killing machine created to do the bidding of that Council of yours. When I look at Buffy I see a girl missing someone she loves very much, and who can hardly sleep for worrying where he is. She has spent too many nights wondering if he is alive or dead, and you have the audacity to tell me you did it for her own good. Explain to me, Giles, just what good did you think it would do?”

Staring back at Joyce, Giles did not know what to say. How could he explain the dangers of consorting with demons when she liked Spike as much as she did.

“Joyce,” he started, careful to keep his voice neutral. “Please try to understand. Buffy may believe she has some feelings for Spike, but how can a mortal love a vampire. He may have a soul now, but he is still technically dead. What type of life can they have together when they….”

Joyce did not let him continue. “What type of life?” she sneered. “I’ll tell you what type of life she would have. She would be loved and protected as only Spike can. He would fight at her side every night, and be there for her every day. Spike would make sure my little girl came home every night……alive. Have you any idea what it’s like to lie in bed knowing that one day your child won’t come home? Do you, Giles?” Anger in full flow, Joyce stood and walked over to the watcher to continue her tirade. “Spike would lay down his life for her, and you have the audacity to tell me that he is not any good for her?”

Standing up quickly from his seat, Giles moved threateningly towards Joyce. His words may have sparked her temper, but her words had done the same to him. Dawn, quick to see the threat to her mother, stood quickly and moved to her side.

As Giles stood facing the two Summers women, his temper broke. “You make a big mistake when you treat Spike like a man, Joyce. He is a vampire, one of the undead. He is nothing but a monster and even with his soul, he will never be anything other than a monster.”

Dawn, unable to keep silent any longer, joined in the fray. “Spike’s more of a man than you will ever be, Giles. It took one phone call for him to come back, and even you admit that he knows how to fix the prophecy. Does that sound like the actions of someone who doesn’t care?”

Giles smiled at her, his ripper façade firmly in place.

“Oh, he knows how to fix the prophecy Dawn, and his idea might just work. If he has any sense he will be claiming your sister as his mate at this moment.”

He stopped speaking for a few moments, determined to let his words sink in.

“If he claims Buffy, as is his intention, then he will be part of her bloodline. Once the claim is complete, he will take your place. Spike will let what ever is out there looking for you go after him instead.”

Turning angry eyes on Joyce, Giles almost spat at her.

“Then you’ll see how close you are to the truth, Joyce. Spike WILL die for Buffy, and I can’t say that I’ll be sorry.”

Both Dawn and Joyce were struck dumb at his words. They knew that Giles was right. Spike would think nothing of laying his life down for Dawn in order to save Buffy pain.

Finally, Joyce found her voice. “Do you think he’ll tell her what he intends to do?”

His temper cooling at the sound of distress in Joyce’s voice, Giles was not sure what to reply.

“I honestly don’t know, Joyce. But if he doesn’t tell her when he makes his claim, then I think losing Spike will hurt her just as much as losing Dawn.” He sat back down as he spoke, his outburst of anger having drained him.

Polishing his glasses, he watched Joyce and Dawn return to their seats. They looked at him steadily waiting on an explanation.

“When a vampire claims a mate, whether they are human or demon, they become part of the person they have claimed. Spike will be able to feel everything Buffy is feeling, as she will feel everything about him. As the bond between them becomes stronger, they will be able to communicate through the claim no matter how great the distance.”

Dawn, her brows drawn down in confusion, tried to understand why Spike would go to such lengths to save her. When she had asked for his help, she thought that he would provide backup for Buffy, maybe some extra muscle. It never occurred to her that he would lay down his life to save her. She felt herself starting to cry. One of the reasons she had asked him to come back was the hope that her sister would finally admit she loved him.

Her plan might have worked too well.

Wiping away the drying tears that fell on her cheeks, she tried to concentrate on her mother’s voice as she spoke to Giles.

“If that’s the case Giles, then we need to find some other way to fix this. Buffy could not lose Spike a second time, and she certainly could not lose him forever. You’re the watcher who’s supposed to have all the answers; hit the books Giles, and fix this.”

Giles placed his head in his hands, and stared at the patch of floor between his feet. “We have been over and over the prophecy, Joyce, and it clearly states that the slayer must lose someone who is related to her by blood, but it cannot be her mother. That leaves only Dawn and now Spike.” Lifting his head to look at the women before him, he continued to explain the prophecy.

“Buffy has lived longer than any other slayer on record, including the first slayer. She has become a legend in the demon world, and their greatest triumph would be to kill her.” A weary sigh fell from his lips as he paused to take a breath. “Too many have tried, and too many have failed. Whatever is out there stalking your family are going to use the prophecy to destroy her. While she is weak with grief, they will attack. If we have translated the prophecy correctly, then they will attack as soon as the person she loves has died; her grief will be at its strongest making her vulnerable.”

Joyce looked at Giles in consternation. They had all read the prophecy over and over to try and find a way to beat it. She could see the truth in his words, yet she wondered why Buffy must die.

“Giles, according to the prophecy Buffy will not die. If I remember correctly, it states that she must watch the kill and the trauma will destroy her, but it will not kill her.”

Looking back at Joyce, Giles suddenly realised that although there was a chance he would lose his slayer, this woman faced losing both her children on the same night.

“Once they have broken her, Joyce, it will be a free for all for every demon on the planet.” Giles almost whispered. “Can you see her winning a fight against an army when she has been destroyed by grief?” Polishing his glasses once more, he continued. “She will let them kill her, and you know it. Either that or she will offer to take his place.”

Giles stared forlornly at Joyce and Dawn. “What ever the outcome, whoever the demons chose to kill, will destroy her.”

Joyce could hear his words, and knew they made sense. He was right, Buffy would make the ultimate sacrifice to save Dawn or Spike, it would not matter which. They had to stop this before it went much further.

The question was – how?

##

Clem was happily lying on the spare bed at his friend’s apartment. The grin on his face was wide, and his whole body seemed to shake with mirth. Finally Spike had come home, and he was sure that he and Buffy were cementing their relationship in the crypt.

He was sure once Spike realised just how much Buffy loved him, he would stay in Sunnydale. For three years he had missed his friend, and his heart had bled at the misery of the slayer. Why he had never told Spike of Buffy’s feelings, he did not know. He really thought his friend would not care.

As he lay with his thoughts, a loud pounding was heard on the door of the apartment. Rising quickly from the bed, Clem made his way into the hallway ready to back up his friend if there was trouble.

Opening the door slowly, his friend eyed the demon waiting patiently for entrance. He was not a species Clem recognised, but to be honest, he mainly had vamps as friends.

The demon at the doorway stood over six feet tall. He was human-like in appearance, but his skin was a sickly shade of pea-soup green. His hands were large, and the fingers thick and long. Dressed as he was in human garb, he could easily pass in a low-lit nightclub as human. Clem felt a frisson of apprehension trickle down his spine.

“Can we help you?” his friend, Aaron, asked.

The demon kept his eyes on Clem as he spoke. “I have come to speak to the loose-skinned one, and you distract me.” Pushing Aaron aside as if he were nothing, the demon pulled Clem towards him.

For the first time in years, Clem felt true fear. While Spike had been in Sunnydale, he had been protected by him. When he had gone, the slayer had kept all threats away. Conscious that neither would save him this time, he could feel tears well up in his eyes.

“Why do you cry, Clem?” the demon asked with a smile. “I only want to know the name of the vampire staying with you at the crypt.”

Why did this strange demon know his name, Clem wondered? Where could he have found out about him, and where to find him? Panic like he had never felt before started to set in. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was staring into the face of one the demons who wanted to hurt Dawn.

Finding courage from he knew not where, Clem decided that he would not back down from this threat. Spike was a legend in the demon community; his friend would have nothing to fear from this demon.

“Spike” he whispered.

The demon stared at him. “Spike?” he questioned. “Who is this Spike?”
Clem was taken aback that the demon did not know of Spike. He immediately knew that whatever was holding him and asking questions was not of this dimension. If they were, they would have known just who Spike was.

“Spike is a master vampire. You might know him better as ‘William the Bloody’.” Clem waited for a reaction to Spike’s full name. None came.

The demon let Clem go. Staggering back against the wall of the hallway, Clem stared at his foe, wondering just what it wanted.

“Tell him Janson of Salano will be in touch with him soon. My master desires to meet him.”

All Clem could think to do was nod his head in agreement.