Breaking a Slayer
folder
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Threesomes/Moresomes › Angel(us)/Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
50
Views:
10,505
Reviews:
19
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Threesomes/Moresomes › Angel(us)/Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
50
Views:
10,505
Reviews:
19
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 48
Chapter 48
Feedback: Is always nice. DarkRhiannon@aol.com
*
Angel paced back and forth in the dark outside Wolfram and Hart. He desperately wanted to go in…needed to go in. Buffy wasn’t there, he and Spike had both determined that from the general sense of her presence that they shared. It wasn’t a homing instinct, it was more of a general awareness of her that prickled their spines and raised their…spirits whenever they were physically near to her. The blood they’d taken from her and the Marks that mated them together created a low buzz in the back of the mind…a constant sense of security…or in this case, loss.
Because of that sense, or rather its lack, Angel was increasingly out of control. Spike watched as his sire’s face shifted back and forth from ridged to smooth without Angel’s conscious knowledge or volition. This was a deadly situation, and Spike recognized it. If Angel lost his now-tenuous hold on himself, there was no telling what he was capable of, but Spike knew from past experience that it was sure to be very, very bad.
"Sire," he said urgently to the agitated vampire, "we should get goin’ back to the apartment. Maybe the Watcher has more info on the lawyers."
Angel growled at him and continued pacing.
Spike was equally agitated, but in better control of himself. Still, the loss of Buffy so soon after their reunion echoed in him like a missing limb. He needed her, wanted her, loved her with a desperation that frightened him. *They could be doing anything to her,* he thought frantically, *and we’re fucking useless.*
He growled back at Angel, an agreeing growl, rather than a challenging one and they both turned their now amber gazes to the lobby of the law firm. Though their mate was not inside, there were people, blood bags, just waiting to be encouraged to speak…
Wesley chose that moment to call Angel on his cell phone, which, for once, was charged and turned on. Both vampires startled at the sound.
Angel opened the phone and growled into it menacingly.
"Angel? Is that you?" Wesley’s voice sounded extremely hesitant.
Angel growled again, then realized that he needed to speak for the Watcher to understand him. "rrrrrryes, Wes, it is I," he said, forcing himself to morph back to human mask with extreme difficulty.
"Angel, I believe I’ve found the place they might be holding Buffy," the Watcher’s voice said.
Spike turned, hearing the words and morphing to human as he did so. A look of utter vulnerability swept across his young face.
"Where?" Angel growled, shifting back to game face at Wesley’s words and the thought of a location for his mate and a place to punish those who had taken her from him.
Wesley related the information and both vampires turned from the firm to sprint to the DeSoto.
It was difficult for them to concentrate on anything at all except Buffy. Shifting to human visage and even speaking had become well nigh on impossible. Spike wondered, with what little logic was left to him, why it was suddenly so difficult to reign in his demon.
*
Holland switched to the overhead camera to watch the security tape as the guard approached the fallen Slayer. The girl’s face was ashen, her naked body turning that hue as well, under the blood that was flowing from the wounds on her chest. They weren’t small, Holland noted, and shuddered to think what the exit wounds must look like on her back. The slugs had taken her in the chest, too high for a heart shot. One went through her right bicept, one had shattered her right collarbone. He could plainly see the shards of bone jutting from her injured flesh before blood obscured them. The third shot had caught the girl in the already bloody flesh of her hip. From the blood spattered behind her, that one hadn’t exited, just the top two.
Her eyes were closed as the guard leaned over her, calling frantically for back-up and a med team for the valuable prisoner he had stupidly wounded. Then, in an instant, the Slayer’s eyes were open. Glowing, even. That same eerie gold-green gaze looked directly into the security camera for a moment before focussing on the hapless guard. Holland had a perfect picture of the Slayer’s face as she reached forward with her left hand and grabbed the guard behind the neck, pulling him down to her.
Her mouth opened and those almost-fangs descended slightly. Holland watched as she ripped into the guard’s neck. He’d watched the tape dozens of times already, but remained horridly captivated by the sight of the petite blonde girl’s face as she tore into the neck of the guard.
It was feral…bestial. Completely and utterly without humanity -- even the demonic humanity of the vampires. Her face as she ripped out the throat of the guard who’d wounded her was the face of the Beast.
To be continued...
Feedback: Is always nice. DarkRhiannon@aol.com
*
Angel paced back and forth in the dark outside Wolfram and Hart. He desperately wanted to go in…needed to go in. Buffy wasn’t there, he and Spike had both determined that from the general sense of her presence that they shared. It wasn’t a homing instinct, it was more of a general awareness of her that prickled their spines and raised their…spirits whenever they were physically near to her. The blood they’d taken from her and the Marks that mated them together created a low buzz in the back of the mind…a constant sense of security…or in this case, loss.
Because of that sense, or rather its lack, Angel was increasingly out of control. Spike watched as his sire’s face shifted back and forth from ridged to smooth without Angel’s conscious knowledge or volition. This was a deadly situation, and Spike recognized it. If Angel lost his now-tenuous hold on himself, there was no telling what he was capable of, but Spike knew from past experience that it was sure to be very, very bad.
"Sire," he said urgently to the agitated vampire, "we should get goin’ back to the apartment. Maybe the Watcher has more info on the lawyers."
Angel growled at him and continued pacing.
Spike was equally agitated, but in better control of himself. Still, the loss of Buffy so soon after their reunion echoed in him like a missing limb. He needed her, wanted her, loved her with a desperation that frightened him. *They could be doing anything to her,* he thought frantically, *and we’re fucking useless.*
He growled back at Angel, an agreeing growl, rather than a challenging one and they both turned their now amber gazes to the lobby of the law firm. Though their mate was not inside, there were people, blood bags, just waiting to be encouraged to speak…
Wesley chose that moment to call Angel on his cell phone, which, for once, was charged and turned on. Both vampires startled at the sound.
Angel opened the phone and growled into it menacingly.
"Angel? Is that you?" Wesley’s voice sounded extremely hesitant.
Angel growled again, then realized that he needed to speak for the Watcher to understand him. "rrrrrryes, Wes, it is I," he said, forcing himself to morph back to human mask with extreme difficulty.
"Angel, I believe I’ve found the place they might be holding Buffy," the Watcher’s voice said.
Spike turned, hearing the words and morphing to human as he did so. A look of utter vulnerability swept across his young face.
"Where?" Angel growled, shifting back to game face at Wesley’s words and the thought of a location for his mate and a place to punish those who had taken her from him.
Wesley related the information and both vampires turned from the firm to sprint to the DeSoto.
It was difficult for them to concentrate on anything at all except Buffy. Shifting to human visage and even speaking had become well nigh on impossible. Spike wondered, with what little logic was left to him, why it was suddenly so difficult to reign in his demon.
*
Holland switched to the overhead camera to watch the security tape as the guard approached the fallen Slayer. The girl’s face was ashen, her naked body turning that hue as well, under the blood that was flowing from the wounds on her chest. They weren’t small, Holland noted, and shuddered to think what the exit wounds must look like on her back. The slugs had taken her in the chest, too high for a heart shot. One went through her right bicept, one had shattered her right collarbone. He could plainly see the shards of bone jutting from her injured flesh before blood obscured them. The third shot had caught the girl in the already bloody flesh of her hip. From the blood spattered behind her, that one hadn’t exited, just the top two.
Her eyes were closed as the guard leaned over her, calling frantically for back-up and a med team for the valuable prisoner he had stupidly wounded. Then, in an instant, the Slayer’s eyes were open. Glowing, even. That same eerie gold-green gaze looked directly into the security camera for a moment before focussing on the hapless guard. Holland had a perfect picture of the Slayer’s face as she reached forward with her left hand and grabbed the guard behind the neck, pulling him down to her.
Her mouth opened and those almost-fangs descended slightly. Holland watched as she ripped into the guard’s neck. He’d watched the tape dozens of times already, but remained horridly captivated by the sight of the petite blonde girl’s face as she tore into the neck of the guard.
It was feral…bestial. Completely and utterly without humanity -- even the demonic humanity of the vampires. Her face as she ripped out the throat of the guard who’d wounded her was the face of the Beast.
To be continued...