19. No Turning Back
"Wanna tell me what you're doing,
Baby?"
Faith's voice was low and soft, deceptively gentle, as she pressed in
closer to Spike, her cold, dark eyes flashing with a deadly anger.
He could not even draw breath to answer, because of the tight hand
gripping his throat, pinning him to the wall. That was actually not
such a bad thing -- as he had absolutely no idea what he was going to
say.
He cursed himself silently for allowing himself to become so distracted
by the shocking information he had found as to let her sneak up on him
like that. And now, it seemed that he would pay for that carelessness.
Faith smiled slowly when she realized his predicament, a patronizing,
falsely sympathetic sound to her voice, as she said, "Oh, that's right.
You can't, can you?"
She removed her hand from his throat, to allow him to speak...only to
deliver a stunning blow with her fist, slamming his head back into the
wall with violent force. He felt his knees buckle slightly as stars
danced before his vision against a backdrop of darkness, and he fought
to stay on his feet and conscious.
Faith did not give him time to recover, gripping his hair and yanking
his head back up, hard, and slamming it back against the wall again,
leaning in close with a cruel smile as she asked in a nasty, menacing
voice, "How about now?"
"Wait...please..." he gasped, his voice barely above a whisper,
struggling to make his mind focus against the thick fog that fell in
front of his eyes and the pain that blurred his thoughts and prevented
him from coming up with a way of escape.
Or maybe there just *was* no way of escape.
"That's what I'm doing, Baby!" Faith laughed, shaking him a little by
the hand that was fisted hard in his loose blonde hair. "Waiting! For
you to tell me what the hell is going on here!" Her voice was almost
pleasant, amused by his vain attempts to stall her, as well as by the
precarious position he was in.
"I was just...I mean...I..." It was useless. He stopped talking, unable
to focus his thoughts enough to formulate a convincing lie. Truth be
told, he had really not thought that far ahead. He had not planned on
getting caught.
*You're getting sloppy, mate. Gotta pull it together if you wanna stay
alive,* he thought, then realized grimly, *Though it might actually be
a little late for that.*
"Let me guess," Faith said, that same cold smile in place as she met
his eyes, her own glittering with menace. "You started feeling a little
out of the loop...a little, oh I don't know...replaced, maybe?" The
pointed way she spoke the word and the little lift of her eyebrows as
she said it told him that she knew he had been listening to her phone
conversations.
"But, oh look! How convenient! There just happens to be a new Slayer in
town for you to suck up to – you know, since you just *happened* to
drop her a clue that *maybe* it'd be a good idea to come home. But on
your way out the door...you figured you'd find out what I'm up to so
you can take her a nice little welcome gift."
She paused, leaning in closer, putting her stake back in her pocket and
shoving her hand into the front pocket of his jeans, where he had
placed the folded pages of the book, her groping touch deliberately
more invasive than it had to be. "Am I getting warm yet?" she
whispered, her hot breath falling on his face, her lips a bare inch
from his ear.
Feeling trapped, suffocated, and realizing that he was not going to get
out of this situation with words, he tried to twist out of her painful
grip on his hair, struggling to push her back away from him with one
hand and raising the other to strike out against her. But he was
weakened by the recent physical attacks he had endured, not to mention
the hours he had spent in bed with Faith that very evening that had
sapped quite a bit of his strength and left him sluggish and slow to
respond.
Faith did release his hair, and removed her hand from his pocket in
order to have both hands free to be better able to restrain him. After
a brief struggle, she managed to catch his arms, pinning them between
them, immobile, her grip too strong for him to break in his weakened
state, as she slammed him back again forcefully.
A cruel smile on her lips, she brought her knee up between his legs,
exerting enough pressure to elicit a deep, shuddering gasp of pain from
the trapped vampire she held pinned to the wall. Her smile twisted into
a smirk of sadistic satisfaction, as she met his eyes with a vindictive
light in her own, a look that told him before she moved what she was
going to do.
He cringed in anticipation of the brutal move, just before she jerked
her knee up hard, and he groaned in pain, doubling over as much as her
restraining hands would allow, nearly collapsing with the agony of it.
She leaned in closer to him again, to ask softly against his ear, "You
gonna behave now, Baby?"
The pain was unbearable, as she had not yet eased up a bit on the
painful pressure she was exerting. He nodded quickly, desperately,
gasping for breath against the agony she was inflicting.
"You're not gonna get out of this one," she informed him softly.
"You're pathetic, you know that? The shape you're in...you're not even a
challenge, Honey," she smirked derisively. Then her expression grew
more serious as she added, "But just in case I *did* need help...I've got
a dozen men within hearing range to come in here and help me take you
down if I need them." She leaned in closer and whispered, "You don't
stand a chance."
His heart sank with the realization that she was telling the truth, and
was probably absolutely right.
"You're gonna tell me absolutely everything you've told her, aren't
you? You're gonna tell me everything I want to know," she prompted,
nodding her head exaggeratedly, leadingly, in that same chillingly
soft, patient voice. "You're not gonna give me any reason to hurt you
any more than I'm already gonna, are you?" Her tone was cruelly
mocking, and he knew she was speaking truthfully.
No matter how cooperative he was with her, he knew there would be no
escaping at least a certain measure of pain. And in the end, no matter
what she told him, he knew deep down that once she felt she had learned
all that he could tell her, she would kill him.
They both knew that his usefulness to her had reached its end.
His only chance was to stall for time, and hope that an opportunity for
escape presented itself.
He shook his head rapidly, his eyes on the floor. "No," he whispered.
"No, I won't."
Her smile widened with satisfaction, and she said in a patronizing
voice, "Good boy." She finally eased the pressure of her knee, reaching
one hand up to ruffle his hair in a mockingly affectionate gesture.
"Now," she said, glancing around the room as if looking for something
she needed. "Let's get settled in for a nice long talk, Baby." She
smiled at him in a predatory way, knowing that she had him right where
she wanted him. "This could take a while."
Suddenly, her smile widened as her eyes lit up. "I know," she said with
the gleeful excitement of a child, made all the more chilling by the
fact that the idea that so thrilled her was no doubt some brutal method
of torture. Still pinning his arms with one of hers, she put her free
hand behind the back of his neck, adding, "Don't try anything stupid.
You just cooperate with me, and do what I tell you. Got it?"
He nodded again, his mind racing ahead, already alert to watch for any
opportunity he had to escape.
She jerked him away from the wall and over toward the bed, shoving him
down on the floor beside it, half sitting, half kneeling, as she turned
away from him momentarily to open the drawer of her nightstand, digging
through the various little toys she kept there.
As he watched her distractedly, glancing between her and the door,
gauging the distance and the time he would need to get away, she laid
several items on the nightstand, her cruel smile widening in
anticipation. He found it terribly troubling to realize all the things
she had kept so close to the bed during their time together, much of
which he spent bound and helpless.
She set a couple small vials of holy water; a small, vicious looking
whip, and several other items whose use he could only guess at, on the
nightstand, before turning toward him with a pair of handcuffs in her
hand. The disturbingly cheerful smile on her face was a chilling sight...
Which he fortunately only had to endure for a few seconds.
As she turned, his foot shot out to knock hers out from under her, and
she fell to the floor. Scrambling to his feet, Spike brought his
doubled fists down across her upper back sharply, knocking her back
down to the floor as she tried to rise.
She was already calling furiously for her minions as he rushed out the
bedroom door. He was immediately set upon by several vampires at once,
and he was very grateful for the stake that was still in the back
pocket of the jeans he wore. Though he was exhausted and weak with
pain, he managed – barely – to dispatch every one of Faith's minions
that came at him in the hallway .
As the last one within sight vanished in a cloud of dust, he whirled
around to be sure there were no more waiting for him, to see Faith only
a few feet away.
"Very stupid, Baby," she remarked with a smirk, and he noticed with
dread that her stake was in her hand.
Well, he had his stake, too.
He watched her warily as she circled slowly around him, and he was
suddenly aware that she was trying to close off his escape route down
the stairs. "No, pet, sorry," he said, his voice quiet and breathless
with exertion and sheer weariness. "Stupid would be sticking around to
just let you torture me and stake me."
She shrugged. "Some things you can't do anything about," she pointed
out, her tone casual. Then she smiled. "You've only given me one more
reason to torture you." She raised her eyebrows with another shrug,
"Hey," she conceded. "I guess you've bought yourself a couple more
hours. Can't say you'll enjoy them."
He circled around with her, not really having much choice, not willing
to allow her to move out of his sight for even a moment. She was quick,
powerful, and very, very dangerous. And he was in no condition to fight
her.
And the stairs were now effectively blocked, as Faith stood at the head
of them, tapping her stake in her hand and smiling in satisfaction.
"Sorry, Sweetie," she said, shaking her head. "You're not going
anywhere."
"We'll see," he said, his voice low and grim, his eyes darting between
her face and the stake in her hand, watching carefully for any opening.
He edged closer to her – and the freedom beyond the stairway she was
blocking, his stake ready. He would have to have a flawless aim to kill
her with the stake, Slayer healing being what it was and all. But he
hoped to at least be able to injure her enough to buy him some escape
time.
Luck – and Faith's natural impatience – worked in his favor when he
came almost within reach of the dark Slayer, and she lunged toward him,
her stake raised. He darted out of her way, spinning around so that his
back was to the stairs. It was tempting, but he knew better than to
simply take off down the stairs. As weary and worn down as he was, he
knew that he had to cripple her before he fled; otherwise she would
easily catch up to him.
She lunged for him again, infuriated by the failure of her first
attempt, and again he dodged out of her way. Just as she was standing
at the edge of the stairs, her back to them, he feinted to her left
with his stake, and she instinctively pulled back to avoid the blow...and
lost her balance, as he had known that she would, stumbling and trying
for a moment to catch herself before she fell backward and crashed down
the stairs, knocking her head on the last one with an audible crack.
He did not wait to see if she would get up, rushing down and past her,
just as she staggered to her feet again.
*Buggering Slayer strength,* he thought to himself resentfully. The
fall she had taken should have left her at least unconscious – and yet
she was already coming after him again, though much more slowly than
before, and limping a bit.
She quickly gave up as he raced down the sidewalk away from the
mansion, realizing that her pursuit was useless.
"Damn it!" she swore in frustration, slamming the stake in her hand
against the nearest available surface – then looking to see that she
had just imbedded it in the trunk of a tree by the sidewalk.
She knew that she would have to recover before she could go after him
with any success. And although she had taken the pages he had torn from
her book, he surely knew enough to take back to Buffy, and allow her to
become a problem.
It didn't matter, she told herself. Within a couple of days the ritual
would be performed, and then none of them would matter. She would
destroy them all with ease, and they would beg her for mercy. She would
make anyone who had ever hurt or insulted her pay.
But in the meantime, she decided with a smile, she would have her
minions on the lookout for her deceptive ex-lover. With all of the
vampires in her employ throughout Sunnydale, Spike's ability to hide
from her would be very limited. Within the hour, she would have every
vampire in town on the lookout for him; it would only be a matter of
time before he was caught and back in her hands.
And then she would teach him a lesson that he would never forget. He
wouldn't have time to, as he'd be dead within minutes of the teaching.
She wasn't worried about Spike.
After all...where could he possibly go?