by Nancy Holder
But, were he to defend Callie now, he would be taking sides against Dru and Angelus. Where he had once hoped Callie might be the wedge that would drive Dru and Angelus apart, this would only strengthen their alliance, and Spike might as well pack his bags then and there. Angelus, he could handle. Angelus and Dru united … that was a horse of a completely different color.
“It makes no difference to me, love,” Spike said, moving closer to Dru and, with pretended carelessness, fondling her hand gently.
Dru shivered appreciatively.
“As long as you’re sure that’s what you want,” Spike added smoothly. “Just last night Callie was telling me what good games you’d been playing at the schoolyard and how much she wanted to find you a new puppy.”
“Really?” Dru’s face lit up.
Spike shrugged. “But if you think death is an appropriate punishment for teasing Angelus a little, well, you are her mother, so it’s entirely up to you.”
Dru looked to Spike and then Angelus.
“Spikey … please!” Callie pleaded through the door, and Spike’s head started to pound with fear.
“Perhaps she has learned her lesson, Angelus,” Dru said softly.
“Let me make this easy for you, Dru,” Angelus replied. “It’s her or me. I’m not going to watch my back in my own home.”
Dru sighed, resigned.
“Maybe it’s for the best,” she said.
That was it. Spike had lost. He could still clutch a small victory and spare Callie’s life, but it would cost him Drusilla. Angelus would make certain of it.
“As I said, love,” Spike replied, “it’s your choice.”
But the time for choosing was past. Callie’s words dissolved into shrieks as the sun finally caught up with her and her tiny body erupted in flames before dissolving into dust.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Angelus said, turning to Drusilla. “I was thinking we might hit the sewers before sundown.”
“Sounds lovely,” Dru said with a smile. “Care to join us, my darling Spike?”
Spike hesitated to reply. Inside, he was burning, as the image of Callie’s death throes etched itself into his memory, adding to the long list of things for which one day he would make Angelus pay.
“That’s all right, dearest,” Spike finally answered. “I’ll just catch up on my programs and find a snack later, a little closer to home.”
“Whatever,” Angelus said, taking Dru around the waist, pulling her away from Spike. “Maybe we’ll bring you back a little dessert.”
“Oh, don’t put yourself out, mate,” Spike replied. “I was never one for sloppy seconds.”
Though Spike had appeared to be a vision of complacency over the next half hour as he cooled his rage with a bottle of whiskey and suffered the unbearable torture of pretending to enjoy a golf tournament on television, he was only counting the minutes until Dru and Angelus set off to hunt. He had already decided that he would spend the evening tracking their every move. He’d lost Callie, but he wasn’t about to lose Dru as well. He’d keep both eyes on Angelus from this point forward. Soon enough, he’d find a way to separate them forever. Angelus would screw up. Overconfidence such as his always came with a price. Spike just wanted to make sure he had a front-row seat when the bill finally came due.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When Buffy awoke, her head pounding, limbs heavy with fatigue, and mind still shrouded in a hazy mist, the first thing she was conscious of was the fact that she was lying on her bed. The room was dark, though not quite pitch-black. If she’d had to guess, she would have called it dusk outside.
She tried to sit up, but an anvil seemed to be sitting atop her shoulders. The best she could manage initially was to rise up on her elbows and scan her bedroom.
What the hell happened? kept running through her mind like a song that was stuck and stubbornly refused to go away.
A sharp gut-punch of memory brought her more fully to her senses when she made out the figure of Todd standing in the shadows near her bedroom window. His arms were crossed, but he leaned against the wall in what looked like relative comfort.
“Buffy?” he said. There was hope in his voice. But there was also something else: sadness, maybe … tinged with a bit of fear.
“What the hell happened?” Buffy finally said, giving voice to the most coherent thought in her head.
Todd didn’t answer her directly at first.
“My guess is that you’re still a little hazy from the tranquilizers I put in your soda. I didn’t ask, but I think they’re commonly used on elephants. The man who sent them to me swore you wouldn’t be hurt by them, just weakened.”
Todd was right. Buffy was still hazy. But she was also growing more and more alert each second. She had no idea now who or what Todd really was, so to lull him further into a false sense of security, she remained where she was and intentionally paused longer than necessary between her words, hoping Todd would still assume she was not a serious threat to him.
“You gave me … elephant … pills?” she asked. “Why?”
His answer struck Buffy directly in the gut more forcefully than a perfectly timed punch.
“I was hired to kill you,” Todd said simply.
The haze in Buffy’s mind vanished completely. Though Todd still stood across the room from her, he straightened his posture and moved into the only light available, cast by Buffy’s desk lamp. She still couldn’t see his face clearly, but she recognized the relaxed demeanor of a foe who honestly believed he was in charge of the situation.
Well, you’re just King Wrong from Wrongville, Buffy thought as every muscle in her body tensed and she struggled to resist the urge to fly across the small space that separated them and pin him to the floor before pounding the answer out of him she now required.
“You change your mind, or do you get paid by the hour?” Buffy asked wryly.
Todd took a hesitant step closer to the bed.
“I can’t do it, Buffy,” he said, almost desperately.
You sure as hell can’t now, Buffy thought.
Buffy pulled herself up to a sitting position, taking much more time than she needed, and noted that Todd quickly stepped back again. His nerves were definitely starting to show.
“Okay.” She sighed. “Why don’t you start somewhere closer to the beginning?”
Todd nodded, then started to pace slowly as he spoke.
“A man contacted me. He offered me a full ride to UC–Sunnydale and any graduate program in the country in exchange for my cooperation. He knew you were on the list for special tutoring and he said he could make sure I was assigned to you.” Todd paused, swallowing hard before he went on. “He said you were a killer, a vicious killer.”
“He” wasn’t necessarily wrong.
“He said you were a danger to Sunnydale, but that you’d never be prosecuted for your crimes. He sent me your record and frankly, it wasn’t hard to believe him. Vandalism, arson, assault—it’s all there in black and white.”
“Weren’t you the one who told me that history was written by the victors, so it’s not always a good idea to believe everything you read?” Buffy asked.
“I was,” Todd agreed, “and I didn’t, especially after we met. It just didn’t seem possible. But, then …” He trailed off.
“Who was he? Who hired you?” Buffy asked softly.
“He never gave me a name.”
We’ll see about that.
“Okay, then what?” Buffy demanded, more sternly than she’d intended.
“I saw you at the park night before last. You were fighting two grown men. I couldn’t see everything, but I saw you fight. You were stronger than they were. And you were the only one who walked away from that fight,” Todd said, obviously struggling with his own confusion.
“I’d already tried to tell him I couldn’t do it,” he went on. “But after I saw that, I decided I had to. I came here today so certain of what I had to do. But once you were asleep, I j
ust couldn’t.”
“Why not?” Buffy asked, going for alluring and pretty sure she already knew the answer.
“I didn’t expect to like you so much, Buffy,” he said sadly.
Buffy figured those were pretty much the high points of Todd’s story and she wasn’t in the mood to coax anything further from him.
In the space of a breath she was off the bed and a startled Todd was pinned against the wall, Buffy’s arm pressing firmly on his chest and his options now severely limited.
“Why don’t you just ask me what you’ve been wanting to ask me all day, Todd?” she said firmly. “This has nothing to do with liking me. This is about satisfying your curiosity, isn’t it?” she demanded. “Ask me, Todd.”
Todd had broken out in a cold sweat the moment he was pinned. It was clear that he now realized he had misjudged Buffy in more ways than one, and struggled to find the answer that would satisfy her. As it happened, it was also the only true question he’d had from the moment they met.
“Who … what are you?” he stammered.
Buffy smiled.
“I’m the thing the darkness fears,” she replied.
Forcing her arm harder into Todd’s chest, she asked, “Who hired you?”
“I told you, I don’t know,” he said, clearly distressed.
“I heard what you said,” Buffy replied. “I just don’t believe you.”
“I swear to God,” Todd insisted. “The guy never used his name. He just promised half the payment up front, and when I contacted the registrar’s office, they confirmed that my school account had been paid up through next year.”
“I saw you on the phone, Todd,” Buffy said simply. “I heard you talking to someone. You at least have a phone number, don’t you?”
Todd shook his head. “That call was prearranged. I just had to wait by the phone at a certain time, I swear.”
Buffy searched his terrified face. He was scared, but he was also telling the truth. Abruptly, she lowered her arm and stepped back. For a moment, Todd looked like exactly what he was: a condemned man who had just been offered a last-second reprieve.
“You have no idea how lucky you are,” she said as he caught his breath. “See, everything you think you know about me is true … from a certain point of view. You don’t deserve the truth, Todd, not after the way you’ve lied to me and put my life in danger, but I will tell you this much: I do fight. I fight evil. The man or whatever the hell hired you undoubtedly fights too, just for the wrong team. You did the right thing here today. And my guess is, you’re going to pay for it with your life. Oh, I’m not going to hurt you,” she went on in response to the genuine terror that flashed across his face. “That’s not my job. Times like this, I wish it was, but it isn’t. I’m going to leave you to him, and believe me when I tell you, men like that don’t tolerate mistakes.”
Todd considered her carefully. He must have seen more clearly than ever before how complicated the young woman standing before him was. Buffy felt his regret, but it didn’t console her one bit.
“I’m so sorry, Buffy,” Todd said honestly.
“Yeah, I heard that the first time you said it,” Buffy tossed back. “Now get out.”
Todd did as he was told, without bothering to collect his bag or books.
Torn between rage and confusion, Buffy listened for the slamming front door, then watched from her bedroom window as he hurried down her front walk.
Once she was satisfied he was gone, she turned from the window and threw herself back down on her bed.
If I had a nickel for every guy who ever fell in love with me and then tried to kill me … , she thought sadly.
You’d have a dime, a more rational voice inside her head offered. Twenty cents at the most.
After leaving Drusilla to her fun in the alley behind the movie theater, Angelus had hurried to Buffy’s house just after sundown. Though he couldn’t help but feel he’d lost some momentum over the past few days, he sincerely hoped that Buffy and Todd hadn’t. After mulling over his options, he’d decided the most elegant approach was usually a simple one. He didn’t honestly believe that Buffy was nearly as close to Todd as she’d suggested, but there was an easy enough way to find out. The next time Buffy and Todd met, Angelus intended to be there, and assuming the time was ripe, he would slowly torture Todd before Buffy’s eyes.
At least, that had been the plan. And, initially, it had looked promising.
When Angelus arrived at Buffy’s window, he’d seen Buffy sitting up in her bed talking with Todd. Their voices had been pitched too low for him to make out all of their conversation, but he certainly caught the significant points of interest.
Turned out there really was more to Todd than met the eye. Angelus had seen Buffy’s determination and strength. He’d smelled Todd’s fear. And he’d witnessed the sadness written plainly on Buffy’s face once Todd was gone. It wasn’t exactly the epic despair he’d hoped to create that night, but it would do.
Thing was, it was also the slightest bit irritating. Todd’s death now wouldn’t hurt Buffy nearly as much as Angelus had hoped. She might even be expecting it, though not necessarily at Angelus’s hands. And if Todd had any sense, he’d be on his way right now to have some eyes installed in the back of his head. But Buffy was Angelus’s special project. He struggled with the disquieting sense that someone had invaded his territory.
At least the solution was uncomplicated.
One moment, Todd was hurrying down Ravello Drive toward the center of town, and the next, he’d been plucked from the sidewalk by the back of his shirt collar and deposited on the ground pinned down by Angelus’s foot in his gut.
“You hurt Buffy,” Angelus said menacingly.
He saw something like recognition along with the terror in Todd’s eyes and could only assume that Buffy had mentioned something about him to Todd.
Good to know my reputation is still intact, he mused.
“I … I … don’t …” Todd was trying to find words.
“Shhh,” Angelus hissed softly as he lifted Todd from the ground and held him firmly by the throat. “No one gets to do that but me,” he whispered.
Bringing Todd’s neck to his lips, Angelus sank his teeth into the traumatized tutor and within moments had sucked every last drop of life from him.
“Is that the nasty teacher man?” a dulcet voice sung in his ear as he was reveling in the intense pleasure of a fresh kill.
Angelus dropped Todd to the sidewalk and turned to face Drusilla, noting that her own mouth was still wet with the blood of her most recent feeding.
“It was,” Angelus replied with satisfaction.
“But where’s Buffy?” Dru asked. “I thought you wanted her to see this.”
“Slight change of plans, dearest,” Angelus said, drawing Dru close with one arm and firmly pressing her lithe frame into his.
“That’s my Angelus,” Dru cooed. “One never knows what he’ll do next.”
“You always know,” Angelus said suggestively, and punctuated the remark by planting a firm kiss on Dru’s mouth. He tingled with pleasure as she licked the last of Todd from his lips.
“Promise me … ,” she whispered as they pulled apart.
“Anything,” Angelus replied.
“Promise me that in the days to come, the whole world will bleed.”
“That’s definitely the idea,” he assured her.
Dru clapped her hands in delight, then draped her arm across Angelus’s shoulders as they strolled up the street.
“The stars and the moon,” she sang softly.
“So tell me, my sweet,” Angelus interrupted her. “Who would you like for dessert?”
Spike stepped into the light of a streetlamp just outside Buffy’s house and watched as Angelus and Dru meandered, oblivious to his presence. Though he believed he should have been feeling something like simmering rage at the sight, he found the experience strangely cold. What he had just witnessed was what he had always imagined when Dru and
Angelus set out into the night together. Confirmation of his fears did nothing but steel his resolve.
The more unexpected part of the experience was the detachment that washed over him as he watched Dru snuggle into Angelus’s arms.
After a moment, he dropped his gaze to Todd’s body. He couldn’t manage to feel anything at all. It had nothing to do with his timeless love for Drusilla. That feeling lived in a part of his heart to which no one else would ever be granted access, and it wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. But something else had clicked into place, and Spike examined it from a palpable distance.
It definitely had something to do with Callie. Forced to hide the genuine regret he felt at her death, he’d simply done his best to refuse to let those feelings surface within him. Those feelings were best left alone. They drove a person to do incredibly insane things; things almost as insane as most of Angelus’s actions of late.
So what’s his excuse? he wondered.
Angelus was allowing his obsession with the Slayer to blind him to a very obvious reality.
He’s not hurting her at all. He’s just pissing her the hell off. And a pissed-off Slayer is one thing none of us needs right now.
Suddenly, something else was quite clear to Spike. It was just a thought. But it was an incredibly intriguing thought.
Spike had made his fair share of enemies over the years. It came with being the big bad. And the Slayer had, for more than a year now, definitely been near the top of his list of those who would undoubtedly be better off dead.
Funny thing about enemies, though, and the company they keep. The only thing Spike hated more than the Slayer right now was Angelus. And Angelus was undoubtedly the thing that the Slayer hated most of all.
