Thralls

Title: Thralls, chapter 14
Disclaimer: They are not mine!


Cordelia screamed. Wesley startled, crouching down. "What?" He looked up, following Cordelia's horrified gaze. A small, female body flew past, reflexively he reached up, clutching after it, but the girl was gone before he could do more than feel his fingertips brush along her clothes.

"Buffy!" Giles shouted after the form of the slayer as it flashed past him and sailed out into the open air over the polished wood railing. He shot Xander a pained, disbelieving look and then spun and ran down the stairs. Wesley scrambled after the other watcher. Their footsteps thundering. Xander stood for an instant, fisting and relaxing his hands then he turned his head and looked over his shoulder at Angel laying on the floor, Riley and Graham beside him.

Xander rushed back to the vampire's side, Riley had lifted him, so Angel's head rested on his lap. The vampire coughed, sending up a gout of blood. Graham tore off what remained of his T-shirt and was holding pressure on the gaping chest wound. The blood was seeping through the material, slowly but inevitably. Xander pushed his way next to Angel and bent down, sliding his arms under the larger body, knocking Graham back onto his butt.

Angel groaned as Xander lifted him, his arm flopping out to the side, head lolling, his thrall was cradling him with unnatural strength, carrying him to the bed, where he lay him in the center of the mattress.

Carefully Xander tugged the saturated shirt out of the wound, the sound it made, wet, sucking, a liquid rush of blood bubbling after. Riley shivered. Xander tossed the shirt away, off to the side. It fell with a meaty smack. He ran his fingers along the edge of the wound, round and round lightly, then ever firmer as he looked up and met the dark eyes of the vampire.

Angel lifted his head a fraction, then let it fall back onto the bed with a thump as the movement tugged at the torn flesh of his chest. By rights he should be dead, not complaining about the unghodly amount of pain he was in. Every shift, movement, tore at him like dulled razors flaying him open. He bit down on a scream. Xander cuddled him close wiping along the torn skin. He pressed his mouth to the vampire's forehead, pulled back, looked down at him.

Xander watched him, Angel met the brown-yellow gaze. Then Xander looked down into the hole in Angel's chest. He licked his lips, nervously, thoughtfully. Angel saw his nostrils flare as the other man caught the scent.

Slowly Xander lifted his bloody fingers, staring at them like he didn't recognize they belonged to him. Then he dipped them into the middle of the welling blood, going far into the recesses of Angel's body, touching with featherlightness the organs, muscles and fractured rib bones, his expression one of wonder. He observed the crimson thickness running tracks down his fingers, over his wrist. Angel arched up with a moan of distress.

Riley made a strangled sound in his throat. "Xan? What the hell....?" Graham took a step towards the bed. Riley blinked and then followed. Xander growled at them, hunched across the body of their master vampire. Graham stopped and Riley had no choice but to stop behind him. They stood stock still while the were-hyena/man snarled at them. Threatening.

Abruptly, Xander bent down and placed his mouth next to the tear. He inhaled the scent of blood, and tissue, of sundered flesh. His tongue stole out to lap at the wound. And that was all it took, his eyes drifted closed as he sank into the scent and taste, he never noticed the moment when he lost it, the metallic, salty, alluring flavor washing over his taste buds.....

He licked the edge, cleaned it with his wet, soft tongue, gentle as a breeze, the passage of his tongue actually seeming to dull the pain, Angel realized. Each precise, soft lick easing the agony a bit. Xander dipped his nose into the wound itself , his long nimble tongue working with the delicacy of a a jeweler's precise hand. He licked.

Riley let out a rush of breath. His stomach roiled in protest, then...churned hungrily as he watched Xander continue to lap at the vampire. The hunger was such a shock he stumbled. He wanted that blood for himself, craved it, needed it. He envied Xander for having it.

There were no teeth showing, no sign that Xander was going to tear further into the damaged tissue. Riley edged nearer the bed, moving slowly, exchanging a look with Graham who tried to assess just what his aim was. Graham was also intent on the wound, his grey eyes focused, not missing one lick or swallow that Xander made. Riley forced down his spiraling appetite.

Riley wanted to get near the two on the bed in case this went very bad. He would have to be close to stop Xander. He wanted to be close. The other man's strength was greater than his own, but Angel was his master, and Riley would protect him, even at the cost of his own life and safety. Even if he didn't much like the vampire...

Ghod, what had happened here? Why was Angel still alive? Why wasn't he dead and a heap of ashes sprayed across the floor? Riley mentally tried to clear the thought from his head. Because it upset him. There. He'd admitted it. It really upset him to think of Angel, murdering, bloodsucking, vampire Angel, dead and gone. It twisted his guts into a knot that tightened down to a generalized cramp in his belly. Angel dead. No.

He inched closer, Graham right behind him. Xander didn't lift his head, but he let out a low, ominous growl. Riley and Graham lowered themselves to the floor.

"This is getting old," Riley hissed to Graham as they went to their bellies, and the tanned man shrugged, giving him a nod of agreement. Xander seemed at least partially appeased by their submissive postures.

"You know," Riley continued. "Xander isn't quite normal, either."

"Yeah, I'd noticed that." Graham said in return, looking at him like he was just a little nuts. "What do you think we should do about it?"

"As long as he isn't planning on actually eating Angel..." Riley responded. "I'd say sit and watch for a problem." As if this, Riley thought to himself, wasn't a problem. Xander crouched over Angel, eating up the spilling blood, tongue delving in and out. Sure, this was completely, absolutely not a problem.

"Great." Graham said. "We sit and wait. Until Xander is done."

"Because we really don't have a choice. Xander isn't human, and I don't have a gun. Do you?" Riley whispered.

"No, no gun." Graham agreed. "Wouldn't want to shoot him, anyway."

"Not unless there isn't an alternative." Riley replied, daring to roll onto one side, off of his belly, Xander's eyes tracked the motion, but he made no objection. The two ex-soldiers sat in silence for a time.

"You think this face thing of his is a permanent thing?" Graham ventured a few minutes later. The "grooming" session was not showing signs of stopping.

"Hope not. Be hard waking up next to him with a face like that." Riley said. He shuddered a the thought. Those long whiskers, the snout, the fucking *teeth* for Christ's sake. Talk about someone you wouldn't want to chance surprising before he was fully awake. "We are going to be doing that you know, Grey. Waking up together for a long time. The four of us."

"Yeah. Any thoughts on how long?" The smaller man asked. "You think he's gonna mind if I turn over?"

"He might. You are closer to them." Riley opined. He frowned over the rest of his friend's question. "A long time, Grey. A really, really long time. I have a feeling about it."

"Me, too. Better than dying." Graham said as he rolled over. Xander lifted his head, and the other man froze. "Looks like you and me, we are the lowest men on the totem pole here. After the vamp, and then him." Graham inclined his chin at Xander as the were-hyena returned to it's task.

"Like it always is." Riley muttered, darkly. First the military, then the Initiative, now this.

"I can't see the wound any longer." Graham said a minute later.

"What?" Riley asked. "What do you mean?"

"The wound. I think it is gone." Graham said. Xander lifted his bloodied muzzle, fixing them with his yellow, predatory stare. Graham reduced his voice to a whisper. "Think we are the second course?"

"Hope not." Riley said, without much conviction.

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