Vices of My Blood
Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Angelus and Drusilla bypassed the minions without a thought when they entered the mansion. He had a firm grip on her waist, holding her against his side tightly as if she’d disappear if she wasn’t touching him. Angelus was feeling downright jubilant about himself.
That feeling lasted as long as it took to get from the gardens to his bedroom. When he flung the door open and dragged Drusilla inside to ravish her again on the bed, he nearly missed the disappearance of the thing that was supposed to be hanging from the ceiling.
Angelus let go of his childe in bafflement when he saw the Harris boy missing. I’m gone a few hours and come home to incompetence. He gritted his teeth and growled at the thought of the fools he had under his command. Was there no fucking security in a man’s home? Was it so far-fetched as to think that maybe he could have kept one human slave chained to the ceiling in a house full of vampires?
Angelus caught a touch of a familiar scent in the air. He dragged in an unneeded breath and identified Spike’s scent. It was telltale in the air and could have been left from a previous visit to his room, but when did he need a definite reason to suspect his grandchilde. Angelus grabbed Drusilla’s wrist and dragged her down the hall to Spike’s door. He balled a fist up and pounded on the hard wood panel as hard as he could, causing the outer layer of the wood to split under the force. Spike always seems to know what goes on around here; maybe he'll know where the whelp is.
“Goddamn it, Angelus, you don’t have to break the bloody door. Come in!” came a gruff British voice from behind the door.
Angelus growled at the sound of his impetuous grandchilde’s voice and yanked the door open. He took a few steps inside, dragging Drusilla in behind him. What he walked in on made his square jaw drop literally to the floor. There his grandchilde was in human mask with a very naked slayer on top of him.
Spike smirked at the look of surprise and then consternation that crept over his grandsire’s face. It’s good to see something other than the infamous brooding expression. When the pounding knock had sounded, Buffy was ready to bolt off of him, but he held her still by the waist. Bloody hell, why did I have to grab her before she bolted? The Slayer was silent and unmoving by all outward appearances, but she was working her inner muscles around his shaft inadvertently.
“The Harris boy, where is he, Spike?” Angelus asked gruffly.
“You lost the Harris whelp? When did he become your boy toy?” Spike asked mockingly.
Buffy gave a good impression of utter shock at hearing that Angelus had Xander at all. Her inner muscles tensed around Spike’s cock and a ghost of a smile played over her lips at his small growl. She kept her eyes trained on the byplay between the two vampires the whole time. When Spike rolled his hips and thrust deep inside her, she ‘eeped’.
“Spike!” Angelus growled out. “Could you stop playing with your food long enough to concentrate?”
Even though he kept his eyes trained on Spike, Angelus was well aware of every little movement the blond couple made. He heard the soft growl and small noise of surprise. He was just too pissed about the missing Harris kid to acknowledge his perpetually hard cock.
“Well, I don’t know where you misplaced the boy, now do I? I didn’t even know you had him stowed in the house,” Spike said, irritated by Angelus accusatory tone. Not like I can bloody well concentrate when she’s got a vice grip around me.
Angelus growled at his grandchilde but was met with a grimace of passion when, at that moment, Buffy’s inner muscles rippled around Spike’s shaft.
Spike gave Buffy a stern look that would have done its job had he not punctuated it with a buck of his hips that even Angelus couldn’t miss seeing. The chit was really asking for it by teasing him this way in front of his sire and grandsire. But then he remembered his grandsire was Angelus -- the soulful Angel – that had taken Drusilla from him. Suddenly he grinned evilly and slipped his hand down between them and pinched her clit. That caused her to yelp and clamp around his cock. Her face flushed and she shuddered in orgasm.
The growl that erupted from Angelus’ chest at the sight before him echoed through the room. His reckless grandchilde was getting on his last nerve of the night. First, the younger vampire had Drusilla, and now he was making this slip of a girl – Angel’s girlfriend -- come in front of him. He noticed the teeth marks on her neck peeking out between strands of blond hair. Angelus’ face shifted into his vampire visage in anger. Not only that, Spike had claimed her, and by vampire law, she would be impossible to kill due to family association.
“You claimed the Slayer?!” Angelus growled.
“Well it wasn’t like you were going to, mate,” Spike said in irritation.
“Because I know better! What vampire in their right mind would claim a Vampire Slayer, Spike?” The Angel in him was pissed that Spike would claim what was his. Angelus was frustrated that his grandchilde would try such a thing as claiming a Slayer of all things.
Correction, he would have gotten around to tasting her virgin flesh first . . . before he raped her to death. From his vantage point of seeing her golden body perched on top of his kin, and the fading bruises on Spike’s body, he thought she’d put up one hell of a fight in bed. That thought alone made his erection painful.
“A vampire that was claimed by a Slayer first, moron,” Spike said through clenched teeth. He turned his head to show his claim mark to Angelus.
“I told you the Sunshine is on our side, Daddy,” Drusilla whispered as she stepped closer to the bed.
Angelus held her back, but Drusilla worked her wrist free. She stared at Buffy in pleasant fascination. She was eager to see what Buffy’s true face looked like. She moved closer to the bed and reached out to caress Buffy’s flushed cheek.
“She burns like a flame,” Drusilla whispered. She stared into Buffy’s hazel eyes. “Such a naughty Slayer for biting my boy. Did you see into his heart? Did it tell the tale that I read so long ago? Oh, everything has changed. It's all different now. The fates are twisting and turning, back and forth. Even the gods can't foretell the path.”
Buffy stared into Drusilla’s dark blue eyes stunned by the vampiress’s words. She was confused as to how to answer the woman in front of her. She had never really had the opportunity to be around Drusilla long enough for Spike’s sire to be an impact on her. She shot a pleading glance toward Spike and he nodded his head in encouragement. She flicked her eyes back to Drusilla’s and gave a tentative smile.
Drusilla stepped back and clapped her hands as she giggled and twirled around. “Everyone is singing in head, my Angel. It shall be a glorious day when the sun shines her radiant light upon us.”
“That’s great, Dru. But that doesn’t answer the question of where Xander Harris is,” Angelus said in a voice as evenly as possible.
“Well the Slayer and I have been in here occupying ourselves. How could we possibly know where the whelp is?” Spike asked. God, she’s starting that ripple effect again.
Buffy was silent and not noticeably moving, at least not to the naked eye. Every now and then her fingers flexed, furrowing her nails into his abs as she concentrated on her inner muscles. She barely rocked her hips on him, causing the muscles in his neck to tense to keep from voicing his pleasure.
Angelus let out a huge sigh of frustration. He wasn’t getting anywhere with his grandchilde. Drusilla was off in her own little world again and he was left in the middle to watch with a painfully hard erection as the two blondes teased each other to oblivion. God he needed to lose some of this frustration before he ripped something, or someone, apart.
The dark vampire stepped closer to the bed. His hand shot out to seize Buffy’s hair and pulled her head back to look at him. He swooped down to give her a quick, hard kiss. The bowed position pressed her G-spot against Spike’s cock just right and she couldn’t stop herself from shuddering.
“You know, Buff, I’d really love to break you in properly,” Angelus whispered as he nuzzled her cheek. “But I need to go find my hostage.”
Spike grimaced at Angelus’ reference to breaking in his mate. Memories of his own acceptance into the family opened old, long forgotten scars he’d have rather have stayed forgotten. He sent calming thoughts to Buffy through the claim. He felt it working when her tense muscles relaxed slightly and his shaft slid into her further.
Angelus turned his eyes to Spike then and sneered, “Keep up the good work, ol’ buddy. Keep her nice and loose for me, and I’ll have a go at the ripe little thing later.” Angelus smiled at Spike’s answering territorial growl. He snatched Drusilla’s hand in mid-twirl and dragged her out the door behind him.
Giles had ended the Scooby meeting when Kendra had shown up after a late patrol. He had tried to stress the importance of slaying with company along now that Angelus was on the loose, but she had given him a bored look. After that he had taken her to her hotel room before heading home.
Now in front of his residence, he looked down as he fumbled with his keys to choose the appropriate one. Just as he fitted the key into its lock he looked up and saw a red rose on the door and noticed the strands of music from the opera "La Boheme", by Puccini, filtering through the door. He took the rose from its perch, inhaled its aroma and smiled. He quickly opened his door and stepped inside.
“Hello?” Giles inquired.
Giles looked around the first floor but saw no one there. He stepped away from the door and closed it behind him.
“Jenny?” Giles inquired again, deciding from the clearly romantic gestures that it had to be the pretty computer science teacher whom had shown up to surprise him.
Giles put his briefcase aside and stepped over to his coat rack. He wondered if this little interlude was her small gesture of reconciliation. He had broken their date over a Scooby meeting that was to be about Buffy and Xander’s situation.
“Jenny, I’m home. Where are you?” Giles asked aloud.
Giles shrugged his coat off and hung it up. He looked around again and saw a chilled bottle of champagne and two long-stemmed glasses on his desk. A folded piece of yellow paper was on top of the crystal ice bucket, leaning against the bottle. He laid his keys and rose on the desk and picked up the note. He opened it and read one word: Upstairs.
Giles smiled wistfully and looked up toward his loft. He removed his glasses and set them and the paper next to his keys. He combed his fingers through his hair. Grabbing the bottle of champagne, he glanced at its label. Then he scooped up the two glasses by their stems and started up the stairs. The opera music rose with each step that took him to his room. There was a rose on each step that led him to his bed and the lovely person waiting there for him.
When he reached the top his smile had broadened. He saw Jenny’s prone, still body on the bed. His smile promptly faded at the grotesque sight. It was then that the opera achieved crescendo. He was absolutely shocked to see his girlfriend’s lifeless remains posed intimately in his bed. His muscles went lax causing him to drop the bottle and glassware. The sound of glass shattering at his feet seemed distant to his ears. He continued to stare at Jenny's body. Her sightless eyes stared back at him.
It had taken an hour for the daze to wear off enough to pick up the phone and dial 9-1-1. In what seemed to be a few minutes his house was invaded by Sunnydale law enforcement and representatives of the city coroner office. Giles leaned against the wall next to his front door and did his best to stay out of their way so that they could do their job.
He stared blankly into space still stunned by what he had come home to. He barely registered the coroners removing Jenny’s body from the house. He snapped out of his daze a little when a police officer approached him.
“Mr. Giles, I need to ask you to come with us. Just to answer a few questions,” the officer informed him.
Giles continued to stare blankly, his body feeling weightless. “Of course. Yes. Procedure,” he said in a monotonous voice. He turned to look at the officer. “I need to make a phone call . . . if that's all right.”
The officer looked over at the phone and then back at Giles. He nodded his head giving him unspoken permission.
“Yes,” Giles whispered not recognizing his own voice. He walked over to the phone, picked up the receiver and dialed Buffy’s home.
The core group of Scoobies had stayed at the house to keep Joyce occupied in her time of grief. Willow and Xander were moving from the dining room to the living room when the telephone rang. Willow ran back into the dining room to get it. She picked up the receiver from its cradle and turned to face Xander.
As she listened to Giles explain the circumstance he had come home to find, her expression rapidly withered from jovial and developed into something unreadable to her lifelong friend. Her muscles turned to jelly and her arm dropped, the receiver hanging loosely in her grip. Xander stepped up and took the phone from her clammy hand.
“Hey G-man,” Xander said in greeting.
Willow leaned against the wall and slid down into a crouch.
“What? Oh, God!” Xander exclaimed. After saying goodbye, he put the phone back on its base and rubbed his hand over his face.
Joyce rushed into the room at the sound of Willow crying. The elder Summers woman bent down and hugged Willow as the redhead cried out her sorrow. Xander stared off into space, a few unmanly tears sliding unchecked down his cheeks. This was the worst twenty-four hours of his entire life.
Once Willow had gotten her tears under control the Scoobies started to plan what to do next. Joyce had gone to check on Giles at the station but returned without him.
“Where's Giles?” Xander asked in an apprehensive voice.
“I’m sorry, Xander. By the time I got to the station the police said he’d already left,” Buffy’s mom informed the young man.
“I guess they just wanted to ask him some questions,” Cordelia chimed in.
“Cordy, can you drive us to Giles' house?” Xander asked, nervously rubbing his hands over his pant legs.
“Of course,” Cordelia said, reaching for her keys.
“But don't you think he wants to be left alone?” Willow asked confused.
“I'm not worrying about what he wants, Will. I'm worried about what he's gonna do. Angelus is a cold-blooded killer,” Xander answered.
The Sunnydale PD had left Giles’ house in shambles. The roses had all been trampled and broken by the traffic of investigating detectives and the coroners who had brought Jenny’s body down the stairs. Giles was determined in his stride as he gathered his weapons.
His weapons chest lay open with various implements strewn haphazardly around the box. The opera record still played on the old Victrola forgotten in his grief and need for vengeance. He stowed the most deadly of weapons in a bag, grabbed the handles, hauled it off the desk and headed out of the apartment, stepping under the police tape. A yellow piece of paper was left on the desktop, a pencil sketch of Jenny lying dead on the bed.
The Scooby gang seemed to be off on their timing tonight. They had missed Giles’ departure by minutes. The police tape was still across the door when Xander pushed the door to the Watcher’s house open.
“Hello? Giles?” Xander called out.
Xander ducked under the tape and stepped into the empty house, Willow and Cordy were not far behind him. He went over to the desk and looked around seeing the crystal ice pail and rose that Giles had left on the top.
“I guess Giles had a big night planned tonight,” Willow said.
Xander noticed the sketch and picked it up. “Yeah, looks like. Check this out, Will.” He handed Willow the drawing of Jenny.
Willow gasped, putting her hand over her mouth. “Poor Giles.”
Xander left Willow ’s side and examined the half empty weapons chest. “He took his good weapons with him.”
That confused Cordelia, still new to the Scooby gang ways. “But I thought he kept his weapons at the library.”
Xander shook his head. “No, those are his, uh, everyday weapons. These were his good weapons. The ones he, uh, breaks out when company comes to visit,” he explained.
“He’s not here then,” Willow said matter-of-factly.
“So, where is he?” Cordelia asked. She was feeling more uneasy by the moment.
“He'll go to wherever Angel is,” Willow answered.
“Angel? What does Angel have to do wi--,” Cordelia started to say before she remembered. “Oh!”
“That means he’s headed to the mansion,” Xander said.
“So Giles is gonna try to kill Angel then?” Cordelia asked.
“Well, it's about time somebody did,” Xander said, still bothered by his day-long captivity.
“Xander! Whether he is now or not, that is still Angel!” Willow sounded as if she was upbraiding a child.
Xander gave an exasperated sigh. “I'm sorry, but let's not forget that I hated Angel long before you guys jumped on the bandwagon, and he had me chained to a ceiling for a day. So I think I deserve a little something for not saying 'I told you so' long before now. And if Giles wants to go after the, uh,” Xander looked at Willow, “fiend that murdered his girlfriend, I say, 'Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!'” He looked between Willow and Cordelia for their reaction.
“You’re right,” Willow said.
Xander and Cordelia looked at Willow.
“Thank you,” Xander said, breathing easier.
“There's only one thing wrong with Giles' little revenge scenario,” Willow announced.
“And what’s that?” Xander asked defensively.
“It's gonna get him killed,” Willow answered blandly.