Thralls

Thralls, chapter 1


Alexander Harris woke up on the floor of a cell.

It was warm, the floor padded, as if intended to serve as a bed, so he wasn't that uncomfortable. There was no furniture in the room at all, no blankets or even a sheet either, definitely no pillows. His own clothes were gone and he was wearing only a white, form-fitting jumpsuit. And everything else in the room was white.

His feet were bare. For some inexplicable reason that made him feel naked enough to want to cover his crotch. He also wasn't alone. Buffy's current squeeze and soldier boy, Riley, was next to him, sitting up already back propped against one of the white, padded walls, and one other man, a bit shorter than Riley, even broader, with model good-looks, but he still had the same soldierly air.

They were also wearing the jumpsuits, stretchy, thin, not concealing a thing, from nipples on down to the danglies, both men had folded their hands in their laps protectively. OK. Well. That told Xander where he was. In the Initiative's hidden laboratory/base, the one he and the other slayerettes had invaded, and ultimately saved Spike from a few months back. Not a good place to be if he had any choice at all.

"Hey, Riley. OK. So. Maybe you can tell me what I...we are doing here?" Xander asked hopefully. Riley just looked at him, jaw working, showing more upset on his Iowa, corn-fed face than Xander could ever remember. Soldier boy or not, Riley was usually a hell of a lot more amiable than this.

"That bad, huh?" He turned to the second man, one he vaguely recalled seeing somewhere before. The man's face was serious, grim. Xander turned back to Riley. He plucked at the offending jumpsuit. "Any hints as to why we are wearing these?" Riley looked away from him, hands still firmly in his own lap. Xander transferred his attention to the second soldier. Or, maybe, former soldier, if the accommodations were anything to go by.

"How about you? Any insights to offer? Advice? This a voluntary program? I am so ready to un-volunteer if it is. 'Cause I have to admit, I am flying blind here. I am Xander by the way. Can't pin it down exactly, but I've seen you somewhere around. I work construction during the day, and bartend at night. Ring any bells?" Xander held out his hand. The other man took it, no hesitation. They shook. Big hand, calloused, wide and strong. Powerful, but human. Xander relaxed a fraction. He still had the upper hand there, physically, at least.

"Graham." The other man said, his grip strong, but not a contest of strength by any stretch. Hmmm. That was good. Xander didn't want to reveal anything about himself he didn't need to. Not here. This was exactly the kind of place that had to have cameras monitoring inhabitant's, or prisoner's, he amended silently, every move. And Xander Harris did not do good prisoner. He waited for more information, but it was not forthcoming.

"Soooo." Xander urged, then waited, raising his brows. "Any idea why we are here? Guinea Pigs? Prisoners of the Big Bad Whatever? Meals on Wheels for Vamps?" He tried to keep it light, all the while looking for a clue in the expressions of his cell mates. Riley's jaw locked again, the muscle bulging on the side. Huh. No help there. Graham's face was blank. Super.

"Very astute, Mr. Harris. Tell me, was that a guess or have you and your friends stumbled onto information you shouldn't have? Computer hacking, unauthorized incursions into a Government Facility?" A third voice, this one female, cut into Xander's joke. He spun his head around to meet the gaze of the woman standing just outside the white cell, on the other side of the Plexiglas. He carefully repositioned himself to hide all his vulnerable assets from her piercing, clinical gaze.

OK. This was so not good. The doctor was the same one, blond, mid forties, slender and stern, who had objected so strongly to their eliminating Adam. No sense of humor to exploit. He frowned. Stalling for time. "Don't I know you?" He asked, putting on his puzzled!Xander face.

The woman smirked at him. "Won't work here, Mr. Harris. I've had you under observation for more than two years. I know you aren't as dumb as you act or pretend to be. So, when I needed someone for this little experiment, I knew just what I was getting when I had you picked up." Her smile showed too many teeth.

"What experiment is that, ma'am?" Xander hazarded the polite question, though he had a feeling he really didn't want to know. He did, but he didn't. On one hand, he had to learn as much as he could in order to figure out how to escape, but his instincts were all screaming it wasn't going to be pleasant news, not from this lady. Just a guess, but it didn't seem like she did pleasant.

"Oh, nothing too esoteric, for a young man of your intellect. How you must have struggled to keep your grades down to C's and D's! Well, there is no need to continue to pretend. I needed someone who had a good chance of survival. Someone smart and strong with an admirable survival instinct. I personally selected you. We will be employing genetic manipulations, simple DNA alterations to effect the desired changes." She smiled then, more teeth, and he winced, his stomach shifting unhappily. Crap. He liked her scowling so much better.

Xander did not like the ideas that smile brought to mind. He swallowed hard, his eyes drifting to take in Riley and Graham's stiffened postures. They were also not happy with her change in expression. And they knew her better than he did. Excellent instincts boys, he thought. "Like?" Xander prompted as casually as he could.

"Well. Interested at last, Mr. Harris? Are you familiar with the concept of a thrall?" She lost the smile and leaned back against the desk behind her. He pursed his lips. Bad direction for this kind of discussion in this kind of locale, he decided. The implications.....

"Thralls? You mean vampire groupies? Sure." Xander huffed and leaned back in what he hoped looked like unconcern. He picked at the non-existent lint on his suit, watching her out of the corner of one eye. "Underfed, drug addicted, pathetic, usually blonde, he tried to joke, but it fell flat,....selling their blood to vamps to make a living." He finished lamely.

"Tsk, tsk. Mr. Harris. I know you are not an imbecile, unlike that friend you call the Slayer. I have never had an occasion to suspect *she* was not a natural blond. Thralls, Mr. Harris. Vampire Companions. Or, as you put it so presciently, Meals on Wheels for Vampires, and so much more. A way to control vampires. If we own the Companions, the thralls, we own the vampires."

She stood, and Xander clamped his tongue between his teeth to prevent anything the bitch-doctor could use from escaping his mouth. It sounded like she knew far too much already. He wasn't going to give her one scrap more. Perhaps she didn't know how...she interrupted his thoughts.

"I have the blood from three different vamps. Now, in any real experiment, one subject just won't do. So, for each of the samples, I need more than one subject. Say, three to make it viable. Three for each sample, ideally. Nine subjects. I can spare some of my soldiers, men who have proven less than reliable," Her cold blue eyes burned into Graham and Riley for an instant, "for the experiment, but that still left me short. So." She waved a hand at him, and Xander cringed inwardly.

"Who? Who's blood?" Xander was dumbfounded that the words had gotten out past his clenched jaw. He slapped a hand over his traitorous mouth, the other still cupping his crotch.

"Should I tell you, or let it be a surprise?" She thought about it, tapping a well manicured finger against her chin. Then smiled that horrible smile again. "This is too good not to share. I think I will tell you." She made a show of opening the folder she held in her hands, settling back onto the edge of the desk comfortably with one hip. She ran one finger down the page. She looked back up, her eyes glittering.

"Hostile 35, unknown female vampire. No one you know." She flipped through the papers some more. "Angelus, in contrast, a very well known male vampire. Deadboy to you, Mr. Harris, I understand the two of you have a history of sorts. Not too friendly. I am sure the two of you will have much to discuss." More flipping. "And the crazy girl, the one they so charmingly called Dru, I believe. Quite insane. Not my first choice of course, her thralls are likely to be just as mad as she is. But one makes do with the resources one has at hand. In order to make thralls we need Master vampires, not minions or fledglings. And Masters are in such short supply nowadays."

Fuck! Oh god, Jesus. Fuck! was running through Xander's mind. He shrugged. "Do I get to pick who I get injected with?" He asked brightly, trying out his most disarming Xander smile. The unknown quantity was looking to be the best choice.

"No. I am not that generous. You three have already been selected into the group receiving the serum from Angelus. I won't take the chance on any pregnancies messing up my experiments, and no need for any half demon-mutants running through our halls now, is there? The groupings will be all male and all female." She snapped the folder closed. "I suggest you three get some rest. And before you ask, no, I am not going to tell you who the other "volunteers" for the tests are. But, you do know them. All of them." She spun on her sensible low heeled shoes and strode off.

Xander was frantically ticking off the names of all the women he knew and cared about. Buffy, Willow, Cordelia, Dawn, Jenny, his brain ground to a halt. He had no idea how many others would be at risk, if any. The doctor had hinted that there were other soldiers involved. He turned to Riley.

"Any female soldiers in the Initiative ranks?" He hissed in a barely audible whisper against the other man's ear. Riley jerked away, and Xander forestalled the move by wrapping one hand around the other man's bicep. Nice. But, he squeezed anyway, letting a little of his not quite human strength show in the grip. Riley's eyes widened.

"Just...answer the question." Xander ground out, relaxing his hold a bit. He hadn't mean to do that.

"None. Some of the scientists are women." Riley answered, warily, hand coming up to rub at his arm. His eyes asked the questions Xander wasn't ready to reveal the answers to yet.

"I answered your question, now answer mine," Riley hissed back at him. "I can tell there is a difference between vampire groupies and thralls. Tell me what that difference is."

"Groupies are pretty much voluntary hangers on." Xander said, after waiting for Riley to pull Graham near enough to lean in close and hear the explanations. "They might be psychologically addicted to the feeling of a vamp feeding, or something along those lines. Some do it just for the money. But a thrall, a thrall has no choice. A true thrall is physically and emotionally, psychologically and genetically dependent, addicted to the vampire he or she is in thrall to. No cure. A lifelong attachment. Your bitch-doctor thinks she is going to be able to manipulate and control the vampires through the selection of certain companion thralls. But, take my word for it, she is wrong. It is the blood that makes the tie. All other loyalties are moot by the time the thrall attachment is in place. A thrall will sacrifice everything to keep it's Master vampire happy."

Xander stopped talking, looking from face to face. Both of the men were pale, but determined. He chuckled. He knew exactly what they were thinking. He whispered again.

"Listen up guys. I am not talking about alcohol or tobacco, or cocaine. I am talking addiction that rivals the need for oxygen. You can't do without it. You die." He leaned even closer. "So if one of you has any push left with the old lady, talk her out of this. I do not want to be a thrall, but I most especially don't want to be a thrall to Deadboy. And I am going to be really pissed if that happens." He sat back.

neichan22@gmail.com