Darkness In Your Blood
by
SpikesKat
You’ll be my finest creation, Spike thought as he sipped at the blood still iced from the refrigerator, eyes narrowed at the boy in anger to hide his silent contemplation.
Xander thought he was one of the good guys, but Spike had had a chance to observe his behavior these last few days. Walking poster child of sin, he was.
Dark brown eyes gleamed with lust at the slayer when he thought no one was looking. No matter that he had an ex-demon to stick it to. Always wanted the unattainable. Greedy little bugger, he was.
Spike’s lips curled in a smile around the straw in his mouth, wider still when the boy frowned down at him.
“What?” he complained, right on cue. Taunting little shite. Couldn’t leave a vamp alone with his musing, could he? Nope, the blighter had to pull the mug away, forcing him to release the straw or look like an utter git with it sticking out of his mouth.
“What are you smiling at, Fang Face? Seems to me you ain’t got much to be happy about, oh Neutered One.”
The boy leaned in close then, and Spike could see the desire there, to hurt someone weaker than him, give a little back to the lower man on the totem pole because he took so much from the rest of the slayer’s gang. Boy’s pride was in tatters, bollocks handed to him time and again as the slayer saved his scrawny hide. Nothing but a go-to boy, a glorified snack fetcher.
Spike took the boy’s behavior in stride. Rolled his eyes when a warm hand latched itself onto his neck and started to squeeze. Probably wouldn’t do to remind the boy that his grip was no more than an annoyance; he hardly had the strength to do any damage. He wasn’t Angelus after all.
Xander’s actions only proved his point that he wasn’t the good guy he professed to being. Spike sat there in the chair, arms and legs tied with rope – and wasn’t that the joke of the century – and waited, expression one of boredom. That gave way to anger – real this time – as the boy abruptly released him and walked away, taking the mug of blood with him. The bastard.
He was forced to listen to god awful television then. Hours of snooze-worthy science fiction tripe that had him ready to break the flimsy bonds holding him there and say sod all to his secret – his nocturnal wanderings about the Hellmouth once Xander drifted off to sleep. The boy would have been smart to follow the watcher’s example and used metal chains.
I’m a bloody master vampire, for fuck’s sake. A little torment from the boy won’t make me give up the plan. Just a few more hours and the boy’ll be asleep. Then he’s mine.
It was close to midnight when Xander’s breathing evened out and his heart rate slowed. Spike easily snapped the ropes holding him in place and stood, stretching the kinks out of limbs gone numb from lack of movement the past several hours. He stepped into his boots and shrugged into his duster then slipped out of the basement, all without making a sound.
Barely five minutes had passed when he ran into a fledge,
no more than a week old from the smell of her. Spike’s name still garnered the
respect it was due and the girl was nodding, her eyes wide with awe, as he
dragged her back the way he’d come.
~*~*~*~*~
Xander twitched in his sleep as Spike hefted him into his
arms. Started to wake as he quickly climbed the stairs.
But then it was too late. The boy’s muttered, “Spike! What the—?” was cut off by the female vampire Spike thrust him towards. The one that bit down where he indicated and began to drink.
“That’s enough,” Spike commanded as he moved forward, slicing open his wrist with a sharpened fang. His chip gave a warning twinge as he raised it to lips too weak to protest, but he ignored the small zap as he massaged Xander’s throat and forced the boy to drink. Then lowered his head to the wound left bleeding on his neck and finished the job the other had started.
He got a headache for his trouble, but it was worth it. Wouldn’t do to have the boy belong to anyone but him. With far more tenderness than seemed warranted, he lowered the lifeless body of Xander to the ground and turned towards the vampire still standing there awestruck. Her mouth opened on a shocked gasp as he pulled the stake tucked away in his duster pocket and plunged it into her chest.
Couldn’t let it get out that he’d snuffed the life of one of the slayer’s own. Bad enough that Angelus – his sire in every way that mattered – would know. Just wouldn’t know who.
“Still the Big Bad,” he smirked to no one as he bent down and hefted the boy over his shoulder.
He had a new childe to mold and wanted to be far away from the Hellmouth with all possible haste in order to get started. Whistling a tune of anarchic mayhem, he sauntered off into the night.
The End
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