Chapter 6
“No problem, thanks. Call me if you know anything.” Buffy put the phone down and turned to the scoobies.
“Angel knows nothing.” She sighed. Spike too looked ready to give up. The tattoo had faded away now, but they were still both freaked.
“I’ll keep searching Buff.” Willow said helpfully, but she couldn’t hide the fact that she thought there was no hope. It was written all over her face. Buffy slumped into a chair and frowned. She was so frustrated with the whole thing.
Giles had taken the potentials out on patrol with Faith, which gave everyone a bit of a break. All except Kennedy who’d stayed with Willow.
“Man, this blows.” Xander moaned as Willow frowned angrily at her computer, which was taking forever.
“Hey, why don’t we all go to the Bronze, y’know relax?” Dawn asked.
Buffy gave Dawn a glare.
She shrugged and looked innocent “worth a try.”
Spike became agitated and wanted to patrol, but Buffy didn’t want him to wander off in case something happened and she went insane in her sleep, so in the end he went out on to the porch for a cigarette.
“Will take a break, you’ve been on that thing all day.” She sighed. “Dawn can take over.”
Willow sighed with relief and they both smiled a little. Dawn didn’t complain, she loved any excuse to do a little research and be useful instead of being treated like a kid. That was the best thing about having potentials around the same age as her; she could be part of the team. She sat down in front of the screen and became engrossed.
“Buffy…”
Buffy turned to the kitchen door and frowned. She’d heard Spike call her, but then there was silence. She turned back to the gang, unnerved.
“Dawn, make sure you’re careful on there. I’ve slipped into so many scary demon chat rooms and cult sites…” Willow said, placing a hand on the girls’ shoulder with a frown.
“Will do”, she said already well into research. Buffy was about to speak when there was a bloodcurdling scream from the backyard. Everybody turned, frightened. Buffy knew instinctively that it had been Spike and told everybody to stay exactly where they were.
As she ran toward the kitchen door to the porch, images of Spike’s enraged trigger-induced anger raced through her mind in blind panic….
***
Buffy had insisted he took a break and nothing sounded better than the cool night air and a cigarette. He’d left the girls behind and stepped out onto the white, wooden porch that overlooked the back garden. He lit up and lent against it, breathing in deep and then letting smoke out in clouds that rose into the night then dissipated. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes. He didn’t realise how stuffy it got in that house until he stood out here. As a vampire he was usually constantly around room temperature with no body heat of his own, so he realised the temperature inside must be through the roof, because the coolness had never felt so refreshing. He was starting to get a headache with all the racket too. Either that or it was the fact that people kept messing with his head – Chip, trigger – now someone was stealing his dreams. He sighed and took another drag.
But he was suddenly aware, out of the corner of his eye, of someone standing to one side of the garden in the shadows. He turned suddenly and saw something scurry into the bushes. He frowned and dropped his cigarette to the ground, putting it out with his foot, but not taking his eyes off the spot he’d seen the figure disappear into.
“Buffy….” He called, trying not to sound worried. He stepped off the porch onto the grass. He took a step or two toward the bushes. But there was nothing there. He sighed.
Over imagination….
He thought, though not completely assured. He backed up a little. He suddenly realised it had been the wrong move. Someone grabbed him from behind around the neck with an arm like a steel cable. He tried to flip the guy over, but he must have been built with concrete, it was impossible.
Before Spike could even attempt to move, the guy took his free arm and raised it. Spike saw spots as the guy carried on strangling him, but managed to see the object in the guy’s other hand.
His attacker jabbed the needle mercilessly into Spike’s arm and pushed its contents into his body. He cried out in pain and felt a strange sensation shuddering through his body.
He became dizzy and the attacker let him go. Without the guy’s support, Spike fell to the ground, unable to control his own body. His mind started to slow, and he knew he’d been hit with some kind of mild tranquilliser. His eyes began to glaze as he felt his attacker pick him up and sling him over his shoulder. He ran for cover and Spike tried to call out to Buffy again so she would come after him. But all he could do was make mumbling noises before he fell into a deep sleep….
Buffy raced from the dining room, through the kitchen and out onto the porch. Her eyes darted around the garden. It was empty.
The hairs on the back of her neck went up, her Slayer senses kicked in. She knew after what she had told Spike earlier that there would be nothing that he would have wandered away for to leave herself and Dawn behind almost defenceless.
She saw the cigarette butt on the ground and a couple of embers still glowing.
She frowned, “Spike?” she said attentively. There was a sudden rustle in one of the bushes. She took a stake from her back pocket, making sure to be on alert in case she accidentally staked Spike. She took a few steps down into the garden.
“Spike?” she said again, a bit louder this time, raising her stake.
Without her even sensing and reacting, someone managed to grab her from behind and stab her in the arm. She yelped and dropped her stake, before the world began to spin and the floor seemed to fall underneath her as she collapsed…
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