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Chapter 16:

Spike grabbed the Slayer's hair, yanking her head back and throwing her to the ground, so he could move his body between her and the gun. There was a momentary pain when her teeth scrapped his cock as he pulled her mouth off of him, but he barely noticed since a moment later a bullet had torn through his lower back.

Snarling, he spun around to confront their attacker. It was a rather attractive middle aged woman wearing a tweed pants suit and holding a gun with both hands. When she saw his bared fangs and yellow eyes, she gasped took a step back, and her left hand began to reach for her neck.

It was not the reaction of blind terror he would have expected, but he was too busy reacting to worry about why the woman seemed more surprised that scared.

Before her hand made it to her throat, he was on her, twisting the gun out of her hand, and throwing her back into the wall.

The gun hit the floor, and he kicked it away from the woman and toward the Slayer. The woman was momentarily stunned and since the Slayer hadn't been hurt, he figured he could trust her to deal with the woman, because now that he'd been alerted to the fact there were intruders in the house, he noticed the sounds of two more people moving toward the kitchen.

The second Spike moved from the kitchen into the living room, a man yelled, "Vampire!" His 'a's and 'r's marked him as British.

The man was dressed all in black and carrying a military looking rifle. He had what looked like some kind of armored vest and all sorts of gear as if he were some sort of secret policeman.

As soon as he saw Spike he leveled the rifle at him, but he only held it with one hand, as his other hand groped for something at his waist.

Spike dived for the floor, rolling towards the man. Although the bullets wouldn't kill him, they hurt like hell and he'd already been shot once.

It was only once the bullets started whizzing over his head that it occurred to him that if the man was shooting at him, he was also shooting at the kitchen and a stray bullet might hit the Slayer. If the man was concerned about hitting his female comrade, however he didn't show it.

A bullet grazed his shoulder, as the man tried to adjust his aim for the moving target, but he was having a hard time controlling the rifle one handed while trying to free something from his belt.

Spike's rolling had brought him to a crouch just in front of the man. He reached up to grab the muzzle of the riffle and point it at the ceiling. Spike could feel his palm burning as soon as he touched the hot barrel of the riffle, but he ignored the pain, as he got to his feet and wrenched the weapon from the man's hands.

The man had finally found what he'd been searching for, which appeared to be a canister of pepper spray. The man never got the chance to use it, because Spike had already ripped the man's throat open with his fangs.

The blood flowed hot and fast into Spike's mouth, and he knew it was already beginning to heal the gunshot he'd sustained earlier. The man was almost instantly dead, and his blood covered both Spike and himself. Spike held onto the man as if he was still feeding for he could hear the final attacker trying to sneak up behind Spike.

At the last moment Spike spun around, catching an upraised arm which held a jagged piece of wood. Spike recognized it as having been part of the coffee table the Slayer and he had smashed through the night before. That meant that although these people knew what vampires were, and how to kill them, they hadn't been expecting to find one.

Before Spike could process what that might mean, he howled, as the left side of his face exploded with pain like it had been hit by a thousand burning needles. It took only a moment for his mind to register the sensation; holy water. He responded, not by letting go of the man's arm, as his attacker had hoped, but rather he twisted it sharply, nearly pulling it out of its socket.

His attacker was not as used to pain as Spike, and dropped the small spritzer filled with holy water, similar to the one his companion had tried to use.

Then Spike was behind him, digging his fangs into the man's neck. He killed this one slower and less viscously but only so that he could drain as much blood as possible to aid his healing. It was done more by instinct than thought.

As the man's heartbeat faltered, Spike could hear only two more in the house. They Slayer, and the woman who had attacked them. For the first time since he had left the kitchen he refocused his attention on the two women. He could hear the Slayer softly sobbing which surprised him.

"The vampire, Buffy," he heard a woman's voice with a stuffy British accent say. "You must slay him. Quickly now. Before he comes back."

It all slid into place for Spike then. He still had no idea why these people were trying to kill the Slayer, but at least he knew who they were. Spike was willing to bet a hundred Siamese that the woman was the Watcher, Ms. Post. Which meant that he had been wrong in assuming that the Slayer could deal with her.

Spike ran back to the kitchen. The Slayer and the Watcher were sitting together on the floor. Ms. Post was making a great show of trying to comfort the girl, but Spike could she that she was trying to position herself to get the gun back.

The next moments were a blur to Spike. He was trying to warn the Slayer and stop Ms. Post, while the Watcher ordered Buffy to kill Spike. He found himself struggling with the Slayer who was trying to stay between vampire and Watcher.

And then everything seemed to slow down. He could see Ms. Post's hand close around the gun. He saw her raise it and take aim. He tried to warn the Slayer, but she was determined to keep him from her Watcher, and all her attention was focused on him. The tiny blond was a formidable obstacle when she chose to be. Spike had given up on reaching the Watcher and was only trying to place his dead flesh between the Slayer's live flesh and the gun.

There was a loud boom, and then she wasn't struggling against him anymore. Her body jerked, her eyes went wide, and the demon observed the grotesque beauty as bright red blood seeped into the white lace. 'Like Snow White's mum,' Spike absently thought.

Then time seemed to return to it's normal speed. And Spike was simply trying to catch the Slayer's body before she crashed into the floor. As he gently lay her head on the floor he looked up to see the Watcher taking aim yet again.

This time Spike grabbed the hand with the gun with his, and twisted, snapping her wrist, and most likely breaking several of the bones of her hand. The gun fell to the floor.

Spike's anger had gone beyond passion into a sort of clinical detachment as if all of this wasn't really happening to him. He threw Ms. Post over his shoulder, and quickly ran with her down the basement. He chained her to the wall there. He was going to kill her. But later, and slowly. He would use everything Angelus had ever taught him. Not because he would enjoy it, but because it had to be done. It was as if there was a rule that she could not die in any other way.

Then he was back upstairs, looking at the Slayer's body on the floor. She was gasping, and her eyes seemed to be searching for something.

"Baby?" he asked, trying to see if she could hear him. "It's going to be okay."

He began to tear the sating petticoats of her dress to make bandages. The bullet seemed to have gone through her shoulder. Spike couldn't know for sure, but he didn't think it had hit anything important. But there was so much blood, and Spike had a very good idea of how much she could loose and still live.

Despite the intense pressure he applied to the wound, it didn't want to stop bleeding. Her head flopped to one side, revealing the scars on her neck, and that gave Spike an idea, though he wasn't sure it would work. He got up and grabbed a kitchen knife, slicing through the skin on his arm. Then he let his blood pour into her wound.

He knew vampire blood could be used to stop the bleeding of the bites they left. But he didn't know if that magic would help here. He couldn't be sure, but he thought her bleeding did lessen, so he quickly bandaged her up again. Her body seemed cold, so he lifted her up and moved her upstairs into his bed, covering her with blankets.

She seemed tiny all of a sudden. She seemed to weigh nothing when he picked her up. She was like a delicate little bird. All too easy to snap and break. All of her strength seemed to be gone, and it was hard to believe that this fragile girl was a fierce warrior.

"It's going to be okay," he told her again.

He knew he had to get her to a hospital, but it was daylight out and he couldn't take her there himself. When they had first taken over the house, the lack of sewer access had seemed a blessing. Protecting them from unwanted intruders during the day. But that was when they assumed their enemies were vampires. Now that made the house a prison. Keeping Spike inside.

There were no working phones in the house, so he couldn't call 911. Then an idea hit him. He ran back down stairs and began to search the bodies of their attackers, hoping to find a cell phone. All he found were radios, and he was willing to bet that anyone on the other end was not going to help them.

Dejected he returned upstairs to watch over the Slayer. Her best hope now was that one of the neighbors had heard the gunshots and called the police. But it already seemed to Spike like the police should have arrived by now.

There was nothing he could do but wait, and watch her condition. Now that the bleeding had stopped she seemed to be doing . . . not okay, but she didn't seem to be getting worse. Her heartbeat was steady, if not as strong as he would have liked. And if things got to bad, there was one way left to save her, even if it meant killing her.





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