Part
Four
Enemies
The ringing of the telephone shattered the serenity of the only peaceful hours that Buffy would have for the whole day. However, the fact that it had rang at what was little after daybreak gave the Slayer the impression that some new crisis had emerged in the last few hours that required her immediate attention. Shaking the grogginess out of her senses as she reached for the phone next to her bed, she wondered what calamity had arisen to bedevil them. It never even occurred to her that the news might be good because so often it was not and Buffy had resigned herself to expecting the worst. A terrible sense of foreboding overcame her as she picked up the phone, wondering if bad news had reached them about Xander. She prayed not.
"Hello," she said cautiously and noted in the background that there were sounds of footsteps. No doubt the sound of the ringing telephone had awoken Dawn for Buffy recognized her soft steps.
"Buffy, its Anya," the former demon’s voice filtered through the receiver.
"What’s wrong?" Buffy asked instantly, knowing that any call at this hour of the night was cause for concern.
"Its Xander," she responded and her voice was hushed, almost as if she were whispering. "He’s back."
"He’s back?" Buffy sat up in her bed. "Is he alright?"
Relief should have flooded her being but Anya’s voice kept her from feeling glad that her friend had been returned. Why was Anya whispering such news? Considering how frantic Anya had been about Xander’s welfare earlier tonight, she should have been elated at his return. Unless of course, he had come back as something other than what he left. The fears that he might have been turned struck cold fear in her heart and she prayed that she was wrong.
"He looks fine but he’s acting strange," Anya responded furtively. "I don’t think he’s been bitten but he acts as if nothing happened. He said that he was just hanging out with Spike and his new girlfriend."
Buffy absorbed the information calmly, aware that Xander was extremely susceptible to some of the mind control practiced by Master Vampires such as Dracula. While there was every possibility that he could be telling the truth, every instinct that Buffy possessed told her that he was not. Considering that Dracula’s influence over him had led Xander to deliver her and the rest of the scoobies to the vampire, the danger he posed in his current state was very real. It was probably the reason why Anya had called her since she had been Xander at the time and was aware of the influence his mind had been under.
"Don’t do anything," Buffy said tautly, already climbing out of bed to get dressed. "Don’t provoke him, don’t say anything to let him know that you’re on to him."
"Alright," Anya nodded, her anxiety was clear. "What if he tries to leave?"
"Don’t let him," Buffy retorted. "If he does, he’s going straight back to her and I don’t want to risk the chance that she might turn him."
"Okay,"Anya said nervously because that was not easy as it sounds. She did not relate to Buffy just how oddly Xander had been behaving, nor the fact that there was something sinister in his eyes that she was not sure would not harm her if given the chance. "I’ll do what I can."
"Just keep him there until I reach you," Buffy replied, sensing the fear in her voice that was not for Xander but rather of him.
"I’ll try," she returned hesitantly. "He’s just behaving so differently."
Buffy paused a moment, realizing that Anya needed reassurance but Buffy had no idea what to say to that effect, not until she saw Xander herself. She knew that Xander had a darker side and it was wise not to provoke it. Under his usually pleasant demeanor, lay buried years of repression of always thinking himself inferior, of being second best to someone else and she knew that Xander loathed being so weak and human some times. When the spirit of the hyena had possessed him during her first year in Sunnydale, Buffy saw how lethal he could become once the inhibitions keeping his baser instincts restrained had been released in full torrent. He was cruel but could have killed easily. Under all the best of humanity that Xander seemed to embody at times, there was also the worst of it waiting release.
"Anya," Buff drew in a heavy breath and spoke the only words she knew to allay the woman’s fears. "Its not him. Whatever he does, it’s not him."
There was no response for a few seconds and Buffy hoped Anya was not going to launch into one of her infamously inappropriate statements but instead when she spoke, her voice was sober.
"I’ll keep him here Buffy," Anya said finally. "Whatever it takes, I won’t let him go."
"I’ll be there soon," Buffy replied and hung up, not about to waste any more time than necessary in reaching either of them.
However, if Xander got in his mind to leave, Buffy knew that there was very little Anya could do to stop him. However as that possibility loomed in her mind and as much as she loathed herself to consider it, perhaps Xander getting past his fiancée may not be such a bad thing at all.
Not if Buffy was there to follow him.
**********
Following Buffy’s instructions, Anya found herself frozen on the sofa of the apartment, watching the bedroom door for any signs of life. She knew that it was foolish to remain here because her refusal to join Xander in bed might arouse his suspicion but the truth was, she was a little afraid of him. There was a glint of something in his eyes when he had returned home that frightened her a little and she knew that if she spent too much time around him, he would know it. After hearing Buffy’s instructions on what to do, she had decided that the best course of action was to stay out of his way and not give him a reason to leave. Hopefully he would remain asleep until Buffy arrived so she could deal with him if he made any attempt to leave.
Anya knew that if he walked out of here, it would be straight into her arms and that was a thought that twisted her insides into knots of disgust.
Forcing herself not to think about Xander’s relationship with the vampire they knew as Elizabeth, she reminded herself that he was not to blame. He had not control over his mind and she had been a demon for a thousand years to know the supernatural had compelling effects upon human beings, men in particular. When she had been a vengeance demon, she had seen the weakness of men to the power of lust and they were capable of committing all kinds of folly in its pursuit, some which had little to do with a spell. However, Xander was different. He loved her and whatever this was that had trapped him, she knew that somewhere inside all that magic, was the man she loved. Whatever else might happen tonight, she would remember that much.
Dawn was just starting to break when she hung up the phone from Buffy. She hoped the sun would continue its ascent a little more before he awoke. Sunlight poured into the apartment, illuminating the gray walls back to their normal color. The sunshine made Anya remember that hope still lived even after a night like the one she had just endured. With the sunshine, the danger of Elizabeth receded and Anya felt the churning fear in her guts starting to slacken slightly. Perhaps Xander would be all right. Buffy would come here with Willow and they would fix things. They would fix him.
The door creaked open and Xander emerged into the sunlight.
He did not burst into flame or dust so in that at least Anya took comfort, however, his eyes were still cold. He stared across the floor, his eyes resting on her huddled form on the sofa and what compassion she loved so much did not reflect at his indifferent expression. He stood there already dressed and Anya wondered how he had managed to change without her hearing him in all the silence. Had she been so lost in her thoughts that she had not heard?
"Who were you talking to on the phone?" He asked coolly.
"Nobody," Anya said feebly and saw that he did not believe her for second.
"I heard you talking," he replied, accusation in his voice.
"It must have been the TV," she responded, knowing as soon as she spoke that it was a bad excuse.
"The TV is off Anya," he glanced briefly at the dull screen before turning his intense gaze towards her again. He took a step closer and there was menace in every step. "Who were you talking to Anya?"
"Nobody Xander," she started to stand up from the sofa, determined to get past him before he reached her.
"You’re going to be my wife Anya," he grabbed her arm in one swift movement, fingers digging into her flesh. "You will respect me so when I ask a question, I WANT A FUCKING ANSWER!" He shouted, pulling her face close to his.
"Let me go!" Anya started to pull away and Xander reaction to that was just as determined.
A backhanded blow, knuckle and all caught her on the jaw and sent her flying. She landed onto the glass coffee table and felt it buckle underneath. Pain flared through her as glass shattered shards both big and small scattering beneath her as she landed. The carpet absorbed some of the impact but not much and the glass dug into her skin, drawing blood. She uttered a cry, not so much because of the pain and it was considerable but because he had actually hit her. She heard his feet crush the glass shards underneath his heavy boots, the ones he wore to work. Dazed and lying still in the wreckage, he felt his hand grab her again and pull her up to a sitting position.
"Who was on the phone?" He hissed again and as she looked into his face through the blood on her cut face and the metallic taste in her mouth, she saw that he did not care that he had hurt her and probably would not mind doing it again if she did not answer.
"Nobody!" She cried out, feeling her own rage provoked by his brutality.
Another blow caught her by surprise and this time, it impacted against her cheek. Her face slapped hard against the glass and the floor, bruises forming under tiny cuts. She had little time to ponder the pain because the boot that slammed into her abdomen force the air out of her lung and she curled up into a ball, her mind spinning. Tears had started to come and she began to weep helplessly, knowing that somewhere inside him, beyond the spell of the enchantress, he was screaming to get out, to help her. She wept for him and she wept for herself because the one thing she had never imagined he might do in all this, no matter how much he was Elizabeth’s creature was the possibility that he might kill her.
"I know you called Buffy," he lowered himself to his knees and stared dispassionately at her. "I know you called that blond slut that will do anything but me." The words sounded alien coming out of his mouth and the voice unearthly. "I won’t let her harm Elizabeth, I won’t let her harm the only woman that means anything to me."
Anya’s eyes flared open, her lips begin to quiver because those words had hurt more than the beating. "You’re not yourself," she whimpered, almost pleading for him to remember. "I love you Xander and you love me?"
"Love you?" Xander started to laugh and it was devoid of humor. "I can barely stand you, let alone love you. Ever since you forced me into going along with this whole thing about marriage I haven’t been able to think straight from the disgust. Look at you? You’re pathetic. You’re a failure as a demon and useless as a human. The only thing you were ever good for was keeping the bed warm at night. It never occurred to you that I was marrying you because you were there? You didn’t think it was because I actually wanted you?"
"You don’t mean that," she whispered, crying harder now, reminding herself that it was not this fault. None of this was. It was a spell. God, it had to be a spell.
"Gotta be going now," Xander stood up and dusted himself of the bit of glass that had landed on his clothes when he dealt with her. "I’m sure you’ll give Buffy my regards."
Without looking back, he left her, bleeding.
**********
"There is he," Buffy pointed out to Willow when she saw Xander striding down the front entrance of his apartment building.
"You were right," Willow frowned. "I guess he wasn’t going to stay away from her long."
Buffy had suspected that any effort Anya made to keep Xander there until she came would most likely result in his deciding the safest place to be was at the side of his mistress. Although she did not like using Anya that way, she knew that it was one way to find where Elizabeth was hiding herself. Considering how formidable a foe the woman was turning out to be Buffy knew that the only way to beat Elizabeth was to outthink her. Hopefully Anya would understand when Buffy explained it to her, since the only way to free Xander from this spell he was presently under was to destroy its originator.
"I’m going to follow him," Buffy announced from within the cover of bushes that she and Willow had been hiding for some time now, waiting for Xander to emerge. "You go upstairs and tell Anya what’s happening, tell her not to worry."
"Yeah," Willow agreed with that course of action, knowing how agitated the vengeance demon could be about Xander’s welfare. "She was acting kind of crazy?"
"Acting?" Buffy gave her a look, stepping out of their hiding place now that they had given Xander enough lead time for him to be assured he was not followed. "I’ll meet you back here later," she said quickly and hurried forward.
Willow watched the Slayer hurry across the street, taking the same path her quarry had before disappearing around the block. She remained where she was for a few seconds, allowing the rising sunshine to give her some assurance that there were going to no surprise arrivals to make the already bad situation worse. Without her magic, Willow felt weaker and incapable of defending herself, as she had once been able. She knew that the perceived vulnerability was in her mind, that she had survived vampires and demons long before she began to use the magic and the reason she felt this way was part of her problem with mastering the supernatural. Although the desire to use magic was fading away with her determined resolve to free of it, Willow still could not help missing the advantages to being something of a powerful witch.
Shaking her head of such thoughts because they could only serve to make harder what was already a difficult addiction to break, she instead crossed the street to the apartment building, reminding herself that upstairs Anya was probably working herself into a state. As it was, Willow did not relish being Buffy when Anya learnt that Buffy had known that her insistence to keep Xander in their apartment would probably cause him to do the exact opposite, send him running to Elizabeth. Willow agreed with Buffy that putting down the vampire as quickly as possible was the best solution at present. Considering her history with the Slayers, it was only a matter of time before the Master Vampire turned her attention to Buffy and usually in that kind of battle, it was usually the people around her who was hurt. Willow was of the firm opinion that Buffy had enough of feeling guilty of late.
She made her way up the stairs and turned down the corridor of Xander’s apartment when she noted the door was open. Something in that half ajar door suddenly forced the air out of her lungs and made the Wiccan start running. As she covered the distance to Xander’s front door, Willow realised with a sinking feeling in the pit of her that both she and Buffy had miscalculated Elizabeth’s hold on Xander by more than any of them could have possibly imagined. She was barely aware when she pushed open the door, freezing under the skin when she was confronted by the violence that had taken place within.
"ANYA!" Willow bolted forward once her mind had taken in the wreckage and the body lying amongst the broken fragments of blood on the carpeted floor.
Anya did not respond. She was clearly alive because Willow could hear her weeping. Xander’s fiancée was curled up in a fetal position, her legs tucked under her chest as she wept. Her hair was matter with blood and there were cuts all over her, an injury received by the remains of the broken glass coffee table. Willow skidded to her side, not caring that there was dangerous shards on the floor and that she was not immune to its sharp edges.
"Anya!" Willow stammered. "Oh God you’re hurt. Did Xander do this to you?"
The question only produce a more agonized sob and with utter shock, Willow realised that no one else but Xander could have done this for Anya to be weeping in anguish when she should have just been in pain.
"You should have heard the things he said," Anya looked up at her with a blood and tear streaked face. "He was someone else."
"Hold on to me," Willow instructed, brushing aside the cruel words he might have said because right now, getting Anya help was all that she cared about. Anya obeyed but Willow had a feeling she was not entirely listening. She gave her arm mutely and allowed herself to be lifted off the floor. Willow helped her to the sofa and lay her there; taking note of the cuts and determining that most of them were lacerations. As much as she wanted to call Anya a doctor, she could not. A doctor was going to want to know how this had happened and Willow did not think explaining Xander’s part in all this was exactly wise.
Leaving Anya on the sofa alone for a moment, she hurried into the bathroom, hoping to find something to which she could treat Anya’s wounds and finding that there was very little in there that could be of help. Most of what she needed could be picked up at any pharmacy but Willow was not entirely eager to leave Anya alone. Something had happened here tonight that was more than just Xander’s brutality; Anya’s weeping was evidence of that. If she left the woman alone, there was no telling what might happen and Willow was not about to do that any time soon. Taking a deep breath, she came to the conclusion that she was going to need help.
Glancing at the phone, Willow made her decision, hoping that it was not a mistake but coming quickly to the understanding that there was little chose in the matter. She picked up the phone and dialed the number she had feared to do so for months and now was forced to for the sake of the friend lying on the sofa bleeding badly. Willow hoped it would be understood that way when she was forced to explain herself.
"Hello," she said meekly after hearing the phone pick up at the end of the line. "It’s me, Willow. Tara, I need your help."
**************
It did not take long for Buffy to catch up to Xander even though his choice of route to his master left much to be desired. She assumed he would make his approach through the town but no sooner than he had left the street his apartment was located, Xander headed straight for the nearest sewer. She supposed she should have guessed that he was to return to her in the daylight, she would require him to take some precaution to keep from being followed, particularly when he was friend to the Slayer. Buff watched with some trepidation as Xander ducked into an alley, aware from her extensive knowledge of Sunnydale’s sewers that there was an access way within its shadows.
She waited for a few minutes and then followed him into the alley, finding that he was gone by the time she entered its flanking confines. The manhole cover he had removed to make his descent was still but Buffy knew that he had gone through it for the dust around it was disturbed. She waited another few seconds because the echoes in the tunnels might give her away although she had to be mindful of letting him get too far ahead in case she lost him. Taking a deep breath of fresh air because there would be a decided lacking of it when she entered the sewers, Buffy pulled the cover off the dark orifice and lowered herself into it.
Upon touching down onto the slimy concrete beneath, Buffy could see in which direction Xander had gone by the wet footprints on parts of the dry floor. It was difficult to make out because it was dimly lit if at all in places and an assortment of unmentionable materials covered the ground, some easily identifiable and some that Buffy preferred not looking at all. The thick noxious smell was gagging but Buffy had become used to it through years of sheer repetition in the odious environment. She took careful steps forward, following the tracks as well as she could, paying attention to the minute details of an otherwise disarrayed terrain. It did not take her long to discern some kind of pattern in the muck that allowed her to continue.
It was probably not wise to engage the enemy if Xander did lead her to Elizabeth. From what Dawn had said, Elizabeth had something of an entourage. Master Vamps never seemed to travel alone and this one certainly would not Buffy decided, especially when she was capable making all men who came upon her mad with sycophantic devotion. At least she could draw comfort in Spike being her creature and not out of any real desire for the woman. Still, that did make him less dangerous and Buffy was not eager to meet him face to face. Spike always knew how to get under her skin, even when they were not lovers. The vampire’s perceptiveness was part of the reason they had become friends long before she had taken to his bed. In some ways, Buffy missed their friendship more than she enjoyed the sex and she wish that she had not crossed that boundary between them because it felt as if she had pre-empted something between them that might have been real, instead of this hollow relationship of theirs.
She could hear nothing of Xander’s progress but she knew she was on the right track because his footsteps in the wet pools and impression on the muddy ground told her that she was. Buffy side stepped the stagnant pools of water, tried valiantly to avoid the muddy smears on the concrete and most of all, feel some disgust at the stench but she could not. She had become used to it after so much time and felt more at ease in the solitude of such places because in here, she was the Slayer. There was no need to be anything else, no responsibility other than that of keeping the world safe from the denizens of the dark. Up there, when she joined the human race, she was nothing and knew that until she overcome this feeling of being a lesser person in the real world, she would always remain that way.
She knew that she was reaching implosion. She could feel it. Its walls were pressing in on her and when that final confrontation took place, she would have to re-evaluate the way she was living or rather existing since her reemergence. Perhaps Spike had done the best thing for both of them by leaving first. She had no wish to hold him but the lure of how pliable his love for her had made him was powerful. It was good to have someone who could on cue be all the things she needed and then be discarded when the need was done. Spike had left her first and she could not help thinking that perhaps he was the stronger one for it. If she got him away from the clutches of Elizabeth without harm, Buffy resolved to tell him that it was alright if he wanted to go. He had more than kept his promise to protect Dawn and his friends and she would always be grateful for that but he needed to go for his own sake as well as hers.
She had turned a junction when a sensation akin to something breathing against her skin made Buffy halt and pause in her steps. The feeling was one she knew well, it had first came upon her the night she had picked up the mantle of Slayer. The danger was thick in the air, thicker than the disgusting smell of dead and rotting things in the sewer with her but the ones she could see were harmless, the ones that remained hidden was what worried her. She thought perhaps that Xander had come back, that he somehow guessed her ploy and had retraced his steps in order to catch her out but Xander could inspire the danger she felt. Even if he was Elizabeth’s creature, he was still a normal man and she was the Slayer.
It would hardly be a contest.
She paused, ignoring the pounding of her heart that felt loud enough to send echoes through this cavernous place. Her hands reached into her coat and she produced the stake that had been rather absurdly named Mr. Pointy by the Slayer Kendra who had died some years ago and had lent her the weapon on the night of her death. There were times that Buffy actually wondered whether or not Kendra would have met her end if she had not been armed with what she considered to be her lucky stake. Now it was in Buffy’s hand, her fist clutched tightly around it as her eyes scanned the shadows waiting for it, whatever it was to make its emergence.
The steps she knew were approaching were silent and she knew only one of two vampires in her whole life that could make such a stealthy advance. One was Angel, who after the first time they had met and had been beaten silly for his trouble, decided sneaking up and being heard by a Slayer was not such a good thing. When her mind reached the conclusion of who the other was, she froze in place, not knowing what to do and reminding herself that this was the danger she had always faced when it came to him.
When it came to Spike.
"Hello Cutie," he said with a cold smile as he stepped out of the shadows, fully expecting her to be waiting for him to appear.
"Spike," she took a step back, her hold on the stake did not diminish.
Spike walked around her in a neat circle, his eyes fixed on the slayer that was watching him with eyes he had not seen since his first days in Sunnydale. It was filled with fear and he had to admit that he liked how that looked. He had almost forgotten the pleasure of seeing terror in the eyes of the prey. Since the chip, he had been robbed of that delightful treat and enjoying it especially when the source was the Slayer was something to be savored.
"Lost?" He asked simply, wanting to test the waters, seeing how far she was willing to go.
"Where is he?" She demanded her eyes defiant and proud.
"Who?" He feigned ignorance at first. He knew of course whom she meant. He had passed the whelp some time ago and had picked up the scent he knew all too well and told him to get out of the sewer before he led the Slayer to Elizabeth. Xander had been more than happy to do so. Elizabeth was no fool. She knew enough to keep her minions guarding the passages to her domain because in her time, she had a Countess who inhabited a castle on the edge of the Christian world battling for its survival from the invading Turks.
"You know who," she tried to take a step towards him and faltered.
In that instant, Spike knew that she did not want to kill him. As many times as she had told herself that he meant utterly nothing to her, that she could never care for him, Spike saw something in her eyes akin to sorrow at being forced into this position. The human inside him almost wept from the joy of the realization while the demon found something to use to his advantage. He took a step forward, cautiously to see what she would do. Would she lunge at him? Would she try to bury her stake into his heart? He was unsurprised when she did not.
"Baby want some candy?" He smiled suggestively.
"Don’t flatter yourself," she said sharply, her lips curling in disgust. "I’m not going to ask you again. Where is he?"
"Who?" Spike replied, knowing his evasiveness would only infuriate her. She was starting to get angry and while she could be a powerhouse when her rage got to her but she was also unfocussed and careless. She relied too much on physical strength and forgot the training she had honed her skills relentlessly to acquire.
"Xander," Buffy replied, her cheeks flushed with anger.
"Haven’t seen him today," Spike shrugged nonchalantly.
"Tell me where he is or I will stake you," Buffy warned and this time, her eyes hardened enough for her to convince him that she would make a good effort of trying.
"Quid pro quo as they say," he replied with a smile. "Something for something. I’ll give you Xander, you give me something in return. Something with a little passion." His voice was full of suggestion.
"You bastard," she came at him, launching for a strike but he grabbed the hand holding the stake around her wrist and slammed her hard into the wall, face first.
Buffy tasted blood in her mouth, unable to believe that she had allowed herself to get so angry with him that he had managed to side step her so easily. Since their passionate bouts as lovers, they had engaged each other physically but never had he drawn blood, not like this. She turned around stunned at the pain but not surprised that he dared to deliver it. Buffy no more than looked over her shoulder when he struck again, this time her head hit hard against the wall and the stake dropped from her hand in shock. She knew that she ought to be recouping but she saw stars and there was power in him, power she had not noticed before. He once said that because he loved her, he had never been able to kill her. Did that mean during their fights, he held back?"
"Get up," he hissed.
She looked up and saw his face slipping into full vampiric mask and knew that whatever he felt for her was properly subdued by Elizabeth’s entrancing powers. She paused a moment, considering what she would do. He was not close enough to attack so she lingered getting up. When his patience wearied, he strode towards her and before he could reach her, Buffy shot out her led and the ball of her foot slammed into his knees. His leg buckled immediately but he was not unprepared to retaliate, bringing his elbow down on her prone form, he smashed into her spine and forced a cry of pain from her as she landed on her belly. The pain forced the air from her lungs but she recovered quickly, kicking out again, this time connecting with his chin.
Spike staggered backwards and landed on his behind. Buffy flipped onto her feet, standing over him but she was hurting and he could see it. A menacing smile crossed his lips and he stood up quickly, facing her on equal footing before they danced again. Buffy’s eyes searched for the stake and felt a hint of dismay at not being able to see it in the shadows.
"Shall we dance?" He asked with a smile.
"Spike, this isn’t you," she spoke, deciding to try reason just once.
He looked at her with surprise and started to laugh. It was a throaty laugh that Buffy did not hear from him often. His eyes almost sparkled when he looked at her. "Bloody hell slayer," he said with a grin. "Didn’t you learn your lesson when peaches became Angelus? I was right, you are daft!"
"Stop it," she shouted, hating him from bringing up that particular hurt. "I don’t want to kill you but I will if I have to."
"Go ahead," he hissed with something in his eyes that was more than the vampire under Elizabeth’s spell. "You killed me a dozen times already, what’s once more?"
"Not like this," she shouted and threw her fist at him. "I’ll kill you Spike. I don’t want to but I will do it."
"You can try," he side stepped her blow and caught the arm throwing it.
Buffy retaliated quickly, using her other hand and slamming into his chin. It forced him to release his hold of her but not enough to disorientate him. He swung out wide, a road house swing in technical terms, knuckles meeting her chin with enough force to make even a Slayer cry out in pain. He was not holding back, not any more. She threw a high kick, which impacted, on the base of his neck and he caught her foot, bringing down his elbow on the soft part of her thigh. She tumbled to the floor but recovered neatly, swinging her whole body around so that she could stand up again. When she did, she threw a spinning kick, landing her foot on his cheek and he dropped to his knee momentarily stunned. He saw her coming at him and rolled out of her way and sprang upright once he was done. She turned and came for him to attack again but he grabbed her shoulders, pulling her towards him.
Leaving himself vulnerable to attack confused her for a moment but not much more than that, he held her shoulders and slammed his skull against her, sending pain through her entire system and then swung around, putting all his strength into the punch. It impacted against her jaw and Buffy felt her teeth rattle from the shock wave when she landed on her side, her fingers sinking into the slime on the floor. Blood filled her mouth again and she saw him coming after her and with a start she realized that she was hurt, more than her capacity to endure while attempting to fight him. She scrambled to her feet and stood up shakily, but not before he threw another one of those devastating punches.
"You listen to me," he growled, still in game face as she felt the blood running out of her nose. "You want her, you’re going to have to come through me pet. I’ll never let anyone hurt her, not even you. I’m done being your bitch and if it wasn’t for the fact that she had plans for you that I’m not spoiling for her, I’d have killed you already!"
Buffy looked up and saw that he was staring down at her with his human mask. "One time deal slayer," he said coldly. "Run."
Buffy’s eyes widened at the offer, her vision blurred from the beating she had received at his hand. "This isn’t over," she whispered, sounding feeble because there was blood running out of her mouth.
"No," he replied turning around, his duster flapping dramatically behind him as he withdrew, "it isn’t."
**********
When Tara arrived at Xander’s apartment, Willow had made some attempt to clean Anya’s wounds with what was available. Fortunately as severe as the bruising and cuts she had incurred during her confrontation with Xander, Anya’s wounds were capable of being treated without requiring a trip to the emergency room. Knowing the unpleasant questions that would arise from such an action, Willow was none to eager to pursue that course until truly necessary. Still, despite the injuries she had received at Xander’s hands, Willow suspected that more had happened then just what Anya had revealed. Anya’s wounds appeared more than physical and though she had lapsed into a stony silence, Willow knew that she had far from recovered from her ordeal.
The door was slightly open when Tara knocked. Willow’s frightened voice over the phone had made Tara forget all about getting to class and driving straight to the nearest pharmacy in order to get the items Willow asked to treat Anya. While things between them might be somewhat uneasy at the moment, Tara was still very much in love with Willow and could not deny her when she asked for help. She knew that Willow had made a concerted effort to stay away from the magic that had torn their relationship apart and hoped that her assistance did not hinder Willow’s progress in anyway. However, it was hard to quibble about such things when someone was hurt.
"Willow?" Tara called out through the widening gap of the door after she had knocked gently against it.
"Tara," Willow hurried away from the sofa where she was tending to Anya to greet her former lover. Despite the urgency of the situation, Willow could not deny that it was good to know that Tara had come at her behest.
"I brought the stuff you needed," Tara said shakily, producing the bag of items she had purchased.
"Thanks," Willow replied, trying not to smile at how good it was to see Tara again. "I really appreciate you coming over."
"I had to," Tara replied, casting her gaze past Willow’s shoulder at Anya whose expression was nothing less than devastation. "Whatever’s happened between you and me doesn’t change that we were once friends Willow."
"I know," Willow smiled gratefully. "Still I’m glad you’re here."
For a few seconds the barrier between them that had been stretched paper thin a thousand leagues wide seemed to narrow and in their eyes, they could almost touch. They lingered beyond each other, out of reach and yet so tantalizingly close to one another. Willow wanted to cross that distance, wanted Tara to hold her and tell her that everything would be alright, that this ache that gnawed at her constantly was not simply the magic trying to make her its slave again but this feeling of being ripped apart and robbed of completion. When Tara was with her, she had never known that desolation but now it was apart of her and would be until things were mended between them.
That was far from being and such was proven when Tara turned towards Anya and moved past Willow, feeling the same things and being just as aware that the space between them though diminished in expanse, was still there. "What happened?"
"A new vamp is in town," Willow explained as they went to treat Anya. "Her name is Elizabeth, I think she’s the Elizabeth Bathory, who used to be called Countess Dracula."
"The one that all those movies are about?" Tara glanced at her.
"Yeah," Willow nodded, understanding her surprise. "I suppose if Dracula was real, she was bound to be as well."
Tara could not argue with that reasoning.
"So what happened? She come after you guys?" Tara asked as she sat on the sofa next to Anya who had fortunately dozed off to sleep. Willow had found something for the pain she must have been in and administered it in the hopes that the woman would drift off to sleep and rest while they treated her wounds.
"No," Willow shook her head. "She’s apparently some kind of witch."
"A vampire who’s a witch? "Tara’s eyes widened.
"Yeah," Willow nodded it anxiously as she began removing the content of the bag and started hanging cotton balls and other medicines to Tara as she required. "She uses some kind of enchantment spell on men, makes them completely slave to their will. She got Spike first."
"Spike?" Tara exclaimed and almost revealed that she knew he had gone but immediately silenced herself because revealing her knowledge would mean Buffy had come to her first about his departure and Willow would want to know why.
"Apparently he was leaving town or something," Willow replied. "He must have ran into her on his way out and he used her skank mojo on him."
"Did he do this?" Tara was almost afraid to ask because she could imagine the recriminations that Buffy would feel if he had. Somehow Tara thought Spike was beyond being a danger. A part of her that wished happiness for Buffy had hoped that perhaps Spike was on the road to redemption because he seemed to be the only one who was capable of engendering any feeling in the Slayer of late.
"No," Willow shook her head. "If it was Spike at least that would be something."
"Then who?" Tara asked and guessed by the stricken expression on Willow’s face and the fact that Xander was not present what had happened. "Xander?" The words escaped her in a whisper.
Willow nodded, barely capable of saying it out loud. "She used the spell on him. He’s been gone for hours," Willow said quietly, "we thought the worst but then he came back and he was alright, not a vamp."
"She was under her spell?" Tara guessed without having to hear the rest.
"Anya called Buffy and said he was acting weird, so Buffy told Anya not to let Xander leave in case he went back to her. I think Buffy guessed that Xander would try to take off, you remember how he was when Dracula was here?"
She did remember and she also remembered that Xander had almost given up all his friends to the legendary vampire. However, he had merely led them to his master, he had not committed any brutal acts of violence like what she was now witnessing on Anya’s sleeping form.
"I remember," Tara answered.
"Buffy figured if Anya tried to stop him, it will send him running back to her so we waited until he left before Buffy went after him but we never thought he would do this," Willow’s voice started to waver as she stared sorrowfully at Anya. "I mean we didn’t think he’d hurt her so badly and it’s not just the wounds. Before she felt asleep, she was crying. I don’t know what he said to her Tara but it must have been bad. She looked like the whole world just shattered."
Tara knew the feeling well. The night she had left Willow, she had been gripped with such anguish and knew that Willow was right, Xander must have done something more than just used his fists. "So Buffy’s gone after him? Alone?"
"Yeah," Willow replied. "She asked me to explain things to Anya and it’s a good thing I did because we wouldn’t have known she was in this shape."
"Is it safe for Buffy to go after this vamp alone?" Tara asked concern. "I mean usually she has Spike to back her up but if he’s gone to the other side…."
Tara never had a chance to finish her sentence because the door behind them swung open suddenly and with Buffy staggering through the doorway, clutching its frame for support before she froze and stared at the scene before her. Her bruised and bleeding faced melted into dismay as she saw the wreckage of Anya’s confrontation with Xander before resting her eyes onto Anya’s wounded form on the couch. Her eyes immediately connected with Willow and Tara who was staring at her in shock because neither had scene the Slayer in such an injured state since she had fallen off the gantry to her death.
"Buffy!" Willow cried out as she stood up.
"Is she alright?" Buffy demanded, not caring about her own welfare when confronted with Anya’s sleeping form.
"You need to sit down," Tara ignored the question and grabbed a chair for Buffy.
"IS SHE ALRIGHT!" Buffy repeated herself sharply.
"She’s going to be fine," Willow said hastily, gesturing Tara to bring the chair forward. "What happened to you? Xander didn’t do this did he?" Willow asked, not wanting to believe her oldest friend in the world was capable of inflicting this kind of harm upon Buffy.
"No," Buffy shook her head. "It wasn’t Xander that did this but did he do that?" She pointed at Anya.
"Yes," Willow replied reluctantly, knowing what would come when she made that admission.
"GOD!" Buffy swore loudly, hot tears running down her cheeks. "Could I have screwed up any more than I already have?" She demanded, asking no one in particular.
"No!" Tara quickly interjected. "You didn’t know this was going to happen. Willow told me what’s been going on. You had no reason to believe that Xander would be like this. I mean he wasn’t like this with Dracula!"
"I shouldn’t have risked it!" Buffy retaliated, feeling waves of guilt and humiliation bubble inside of her. Was it not bad enough that Spike had managed to do this to her because of her weaknesses, was she going to let the same thing happen to her friends because of her miscalculations?
"You did what you had to," Willow said firmly. "Now you need to let us help you."
It was not often that Willow used such a stern tone but when it was utilized, it was not to be disobeyed, not even by the Slayer. Still Buffy could not deny that once again, she was wrong and people had gotten hurt, herself included. "I’m okay," she said wearily. "Its worse than it looks."
"Did Elizabeth and her vamps do this to you?" Willow asked as she dabbed the blood from Buffy’s split lip.
"No," Buffy shook her head. "This was all Spike."
"Spike?" Tara cried out and exchanged a horrified look with Willow before turning to Buffy again. "How could he? You’ve fought before. He’s never hurt you like this."
"That’s because he always used to hold back," Buffy whispered trying not to think about his cruel words. "He said it himself, he loved me but not any more. Elizabeth is all he cares about now."
"But you managed to get away," Willow stated anxiously, unable to believe that William the Bloody had been throwing his punches all those years.
"He let me go," she said bitterly. "The son of a bitch let me go."
"Then he still cares for you," Tara replied. "He has to right? He wouldn’t have let you go if he didn’t feel something for you."
Buffy wished that were the case. She wished that there was some part of Spike that remembered what he felt for her but she had seen his eyes and she knew that all traces of the vampire who loved her to the point of obsession was gone. He belonged to a new mistress and she did not believe in sharing.
"She’s got something planned for me," Buffy whispered after awhile as Tara dabbed some medication on her wounds. "He didn’t kill me because he wasn’t going to ruin things for her."
"Oh Buffy," Tara wanted to say something but she had no idea what and was limited to how much sympathy she could offer the slayer because Willow and the rest of the Scoobies were unaware of Buffy’s relationship with Spike.
"And Xander?" Willow was almost afraid to ask.
"I don’t know," Buffy answered wearily. "Spike ambushed me while I was following him. I never got to se where she was hiding out."
"Great," Anya’s voice suddenly interjected. "So it looks like we both got the crap beaten out of us for nothing?"
The vengeance demon had awakened unsurprisingly to the conversation taking place around her and had heard, albeit through something of a blur, most of what had happened tonight. However, there was no anger on her face, just the same weariness that filled Buffy’s expression.
"Looks that way," Buffy sighed. She steeled herself for Anya’s recrimination, knowing that she deserved it for putting Anya at risk as she had.
Anya did nothing of the sort. Instead a little smile crossed her face and she added, "don’t hog all the iodine. We got to pull ourselves together if we’re gonna get this bitch."
Buffy smiled, almost breaking into tears by Anya’s remark and knew that even though the situation was extremely bleak, it would not last forever. Bruises healed and when they did, she was going to find Xander and Spike.
Then she was going to deal with Elizabeth.