Second Verse
Chapter 13 -- A Spot of Torture
After two hours of sniffing one disgusting concoction after another, he had identified five things that might smell familiar from that evening and developed a raging headache. The pain could have come from having to smell so many disgusting potions ranging from ground chaos demon horn to burning dried elephant gonads. It also might have come from the endless bickering the two vampires had engaged in ever since they had reached the magic shop. Spike had called his sire, a wanker, a poof, a nancy-boy, mighty gel-hair boy, the great poof, a ninny, and a good number of names that he just didn't understand. From Angel's reaction, he guessed none were of the good. In return, Angel had threatened to stake Spike, rolled his eyes, sighed, and growled so often that Cordelia had taken to randomly backhanding him across the arm. Yes, a lovely evening.
"Familiar?" Angel asked as he gestured toward the blue bottle currently sitting on the table.
"Only in that it smells like my laundry after I haven't washed it in two or three months." Xander put the cork back in and pushed the bottle away. "Don’t think it was that."
"Oi, he's had enough. It’s not like he paid attention to the smell that night," Spike complained from the other side of a shelf full of strange artifacts, bones, statues and rocks.
"Yeah, too busy trying not to die." Xander stood and cracked his back after sitting for the whole two hours.
"If they were using Org root and ground pa'alash, we need more information. We could be looking at some sort of thrall spell."
"Well he's helped you as much as he can; I'm taking him and leavin' now." Spike walked up and got into his sire's personal space, and the larger vampire instantly stood and squared his shoulders. Xander sighed.
"You have no right to order him around and drag him all over town for your personal feud." Angel snarled as he obviously struggled not to slip into game face.
"Bloody hell, not like you have a vote here. He already told you off, Peaches."
"William, you are not taking him anywhere, I swear if…"
Xander could still hear them argue, but he intentionally tuned it out as he walked out of the back room and started browsing the shelves in the front of the shop. He had just spotted an interesting shelf when a female voice interrupted an internal argument on how to handle the whole attracted-to-an-evil-vampire that he had every intention of killing dilemma. When had he lost his mind?
"Those two are going to stake each other at this rate," Cordelia sighed as she nodded toward the back.
"Oh, yeah. I thought me and my dad got into some fights, but those two have us beat."
"Nice work—that." Cordelia gestured toward Xander's hand, which had continued on its pre-Cordelia mission and closed around a stake.
"Yeah, well I just like having some protection. Well, not protection as in protection," Xander stumbled to correct himself as he realized the sexual implications of his statement. "Not that I don't do things that require protection…I'm just going to stop now," he finally announced as he studied the lightly carved stake in his hand.
"Well I'm just glad to know you take the whole vampire thing seriously. Thought you might be one of those idiots who think they can shack up with a demon without suffering any consequences."
"Oh, I know the consequences," he agreed as he thought about Spike's body dissolving into dust. The earlier screams in his head had reduced to a sort of grumbling complaint, but he did know how hard this would be. Unfortunately, he couldn't fool himself. Cordelia was right about not trusting demons, and any concern Spike had shown made sense in a totally selfish, no-problem-killing-the-human-later sort of way. He had to admit that his own pathetic need for affection had blinded him at first.
"So why work with him?" Cordelia asked with such an honest curiosity that he had to wonder what kind of life she had lived to take the whole situation in stride.
"I could ask you the same thing," he returned.
"Yeah, but it isn't the same thing. I mean, Angel gets all strange and broody, and he so totally needs to learn how to wear colors other than black, but he isn't a killer. He's got the soul."
"Are you sure you aren't the one in denial?" he asked as he fingered the spiral pattern on the dark wood. He tried to sink a fingernail into the wood, but he couldn't even scratch the surface—nice hard wood.
"I've known both Angel and Angelus, and I know the difference. Of course, I also carry lots of weapons," she assured him with a smile. "Besides, I need the job. However, I don't get the feeling Spike pays real well. He seems like more of a 'letting you live is payment enough' sort to me, so why stay with him?"
"We both want to kill the same man…or rather vamp."
"Cassidy."
"Oh yeah. He killed a friend, and I can't say I'm exactly happy about his willingness to share." Xander's free hand gestured up toward his neck and the red scar visible beneath his collar. Of course, he didn't mention that the mark had posed no problems until Spike had waltzed into his life and would hopefully pose none when Spike died. Unless Spike killed him; he suspected that the mark wouldn't bother him much if he was dead.
"Okay, that's just disturbing. Angel told me about the whole claim thing." Cordelia leaned back against a shelf and flipped her hair away from her face in a gesture that Xander suddenly recognized.
"Cordelia…Cordelia Chase," he suddenly blurted.
"Um, yeah. We've already been introduced." Xander almost laughed as she rolled her eyes in a look that he recognized well from their days together in junior high. She used it on him every time she pointed out something stupid he had done in order to embarrass him in front of as many people as possible.
"No, I just recognized you. Willow and I started the 'We hate Cordelia Chase' club," he blurted a half second before it occurred to him that she might find that information offensive. "Of course, that was when we were waaaay younger, and you were younger, and different."
"Alexander Harris? Oh my god." Cordelia suddenly pulled him into a hug, and Xander threw up his arms, only remembering to turn the stake at the last minute. Boy, wouldn't that be an awkward way to greet an old classmate.
"Cordelia, we weren't exactly friends," he pointed out at as the woman held on to him far longer than he expected.
"Don't turn around. When I let go, take off running for the back room, and I'll distract them with some holy water."
Cordelia held on for another second as her hand reached into her purse, and Xander closed his fingers around the stake even more tightly. He knew he should run for Spike, but he couldn't leave Cordelia here to die, even if he had started a whole hate-club and spent one afternoon discussing murder plots with Willow. When she released him and threw the container, Xander turned to fight rather than run. He turned in time to see the bottle crash onto the floor and splash up onto three of the largest vampires he had ever seen. Taking advantage of the momentary chaos caused as the vampires recoiled from the burning water, Xander lunged forward and plunged his stake into the nearest vamp. He thought he had aimed true, but the vampire simply growled and grabbed his arm in one hand while he pulled the stake out with the other.
"Spike," he bellowed at the top of his voice as he pulled back against the hand which closed like a steel vice. He threw his other arm in an arc, trying to get enough speed in his swing to make the vampire let go, but his awkward left-handed blow bounced harmlessly off the vampires raised forearm. Well, harmlessly for the vamp; Xander felt like his arm had hit a brick and the throbbing in his right hand where the vamp gripped too tightly for circulation joined the throbbing in his left which would soon sport a good sized bruise if he was any judge.
Out of his peripheral vision, he watched Cordelia run from the other two vamps, and he wondered where Spike and Angel had gone. Oh god, maybe they really had staked each other.
"Leave her alone," he shouted as he swung again at the vamp holding him. The same swing ended in the same result, but the vamp still didn't do anything but watch the others corner Cordelia behind a bookcase. Praying for some luck, Xander reached out with his foot and hooked one of the lower shelves of the display unit next to him. Praying that the case wasn't bolted down, he pulled with everything he had, and suddenly the whole shelf started tilting precariously.
When the first of the fragile item slid off and shattered on the floor, the Neanderthal holding him looked over, and then threw his arms up to protect his face from the falling shelf. Xander scrambled away but didn't quite make it. He felt the shelf fall on his lower leg, and he howled in pain. Grabbing a bit of wood that had broken off the shelf, he staked the now-trapped vampire and turned with his improvisational weapon in hand to face the other two.
Both of the vampires turned their backs on Cordelia, but only one survived the mistake. Xander smiled as he watched vampire number two turn to a skeleton for the brief second it took for the bones to follow the flesh and turn to dust. He could feel more than hear Spike charging from the back room, and he allowed himself to feel relief for a second, but only a second.
Vampire number three charged toward him and grabbed his hand, pulling him roughly over the vampire's shoulder face forward. He struggled to hold on to his weapon, but with the vampire's grip, he couldn't do anything with it. By the time the vampire had reached the door, he had transferred the makeshift stake to his left hand, but the vampire simply reached up and pulled it out of his hand. Xander yelped and winced as that forced dozens of splinters into his left hand, but he continued fighting and squirming.
Hoping to distract the beast, he even held his bleeding left hand over the creature's face, but the vampire simply tossed him. Xander felt himself flying through the air until he stopped with a thud against the metal of a van. Oh shit. The metal of the inside of a van, Xander realized as the vampire jumped in after him and slammed the door. At that sound, the van leapt into traffic at such a speed that Xander found himself tumbling toward the back doors. He had just decided to grab a door handle and roll out, risking death by pavement, when a hand grabbed him and pressed him to the cold and uneven floor of the van.
"Not so fast," hissed an angry voice, and he shuddered at the sound. Even angry, Spike hadn't frightened him as much as that cold voice without any trace of humanity. Xander felt something cold wrap around his neck, and he reflexively reached up as the lock closed, securing the chain around his neck. With a jerk, the vampire had pulled him toward the side of the van and fastened the other end. Xander realized that he was, for the third time in three nights, chained up. Since he couldn't do anything about it, he leaned back against the cold metal and curled his sore leg under him as he settled in to glare at his captor. The vampire looked back at him with an ever-increasing growl filling the space.
"You kill him, and the master'll skin you," floated in a voice from the front of the van. With one last snarl, the vampire crawled up into the front part of the van and allowed the curtain to fall back into place, leaving Xander alone. He simply sighed and turned his injured hand toward the meager light filtering in from the back windows as he tried to pick the splinters out of his still bleeding hand. As Spike would say, wankers.
He still hadn't come up with a plan an hour later when he felt the van slow and begin maneuvering around tight turns. Parking lot? With his neck chained, he really couldn't see out of the windows, but then it hardly mattered. He really didn't have any illusions about who had captured him or how ugly this was about to get. He used his teeth to try and gnaw out one more splinter. Sucking until he tasted the salty flavor of blood, he used his tongue to find the end before trying to close his teeth around the barely protruding sliver of wood. When the van stopped and the door came open, he continued his self-treatment. In fact, he took pride in completely ignoring both the vampires, all the way up until the point his neck was nearly broken when idiot number one used the chain to yank him out of the van.
"Hey, human here," he yelled as he fell to the concrete floor of a warehouse, and for a moment he wondered why that sounded so familiar.
"Don't break him," idiot number two hissed to the offending vamp, but neither one helped him stand up. He used the edge of the van door opening to pull himself back up onto his feet.
"Move human." The chain tightened again, and this time he followed, cursing himself for being so damn weak.
"Boy you two have a lot of explaining, like how two weak little humans managed to kill half of your little kidnapping crew." Xander waited for a response, but the vamps simply pulled him toward a freight elevator. He knew he should shut up, but talking gave him at least some illusion of bravado, even if it was just illusion. "Not that killing you guys is hard. I mean, I've dusted little girl vamps that fought more than you guys. Hell, a little girl did take out your buddy in the store." Xander nodded toward idiot number one: the one who had come into the store and whose buddy Cordelia had neatly disposed of.
"Shut up," Idiot number one snapped.
"Yeah, right. 'Cause the boss man won't notice that you lost a couple of guys without *me* pointing it out. I mean, if Spike had been there, that woulda been one thing, but you lost your buddies to a couple of walking happy meals. How pathetic is that? It's like a cop getting chewed to death by a cow." As the elevator thunked to a halt, a growl threatened bodily harm to Xander. Oh well, Cassidy would schedule him for bodily harm soon enough, so what did it really matter.
He hadn't come up with any more insults before he found himself in a huge room that looked like the set from a renaissance fair. Heavy red fabric draped the windows, chains hung from wood columns, and a dark-haired man sat on something that looked suspiciously like a throne. He wasn't surprised to find himself forced to his knees before the vampire with the illusion of kingship.
"You do know you can get therapy for this whole delusion thing, right?" Xander asked as he gestured toward the ornate paintings and carved tables.
"Silence!" The vamp on the throne bellowed, and he felt an answering bellow within his own chest. Oh shit no. He concentrated on singing the Rubber Duckie song in his head over and over until he had forced out that flare of joy at seeing *master*. He didn't realize that his internal singing had become a cappella until he noticed the strange looks the various vamps were giving him.
"What? Didn't you ever watch Sesame Street?"
"How dare you speak." The dark-haired vamp stood and descended the two steps to the main floor. Yep, that was definitely a throne, and a god-awful ugly throne with gold gremlin thingies carved on the back and a red seat.
"And you would be Cassidy, the vamp who would be king." That stopped the vampire. Cassidy stood motionless for one moment before closing the distance with alarming speed and snatching up the chain that now dangled from his neck.
"What do you know, human?" Cassidy demanded as he bent over him ominously.
"That you have bad breath?" He never saw the fist, but he sure felt it as it hit his ribs just above his waist. He tried not to cry out, but his gasp sounded distinctly pained, and he collapsed in agony once Cassidy released his chain.
"Strip him," ordered the calm voice, and Xander tried not to panic as many hands suddenly reached out and grabbed at pieces of fabric, pulling the clothing apart rather than removing it. He would have fought, but he found himself naked before he could gather his wits. He remained sitting on the cold cement floor, aware of the fact that this really only had one outcome for him.
"Kneel before your master, slave."
"You do know you aren't a king, right? Not a king means no kingdom, no subjects, no slaves. Of course, you do look a little like one of the Edward kings—pasty complexion, little squinty eyes, and sort of a flat-faced dopey look. Girlfriend accused me of looking like him once, but I think I have more of the Henry the fifth look—eyes a little too big, nose a whole lot too big. Whadda you think?" He really couldn't help noticing three things: the steadily rising volume of growling, the nervous shifting of various minions, and the desperate moaning inside his own mind.
He expected swift retribution. Instead Cassidy walked over to an ornate armoire and opened it. Remembering what Spike had kept in his cabinet, he wasn't surprised when Cassidy returned with a variety of toys.
"Remove the chain," Cassidy ordered even as he walked up with a steel collar and manacles. "You can save yourself pain by submitting to me. You are mine, and you will kneel at my feet." Xander tried not to shake as he felt Cassidy close the collar around his neck before reaching down for each hand in turn. The truth was, he found himself fighting a need to do exactly that, so much so that he didn't have time to come up with a snappy response.
He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the hands that pulled him up and chained him facing one of the square wooden columns. He tried even harder to ignore the need to throw himself at Cassidy's feet.
"Let's try this again now that you're more cooperative. What do you know?"
"If you try to flush your mom's dry Thanksgiving turkey down the toilet, you'll clog the plumbing," he finally choked out, knowing what would happen. Sure enough, a half second after he said the words, he heard the crack. It took his body another second after that to register the line of fire going from his right armpit to his left side. He gasped in pain
"What do you know?"
"Spike listens to this really crappy music." He clenched his fists until the whip had dug into him again. This time he couldn't contain the scream.
"What do you know?"
"Storm has got to be the sexiest woman ever." The little ritual continued until Xander hung by his arms, his back numb and his brain barely registering the question. An hour? Two hours? Five hours? He had no idea.
Suddenly, he felt cool hands at his wrists, and he fell to the ground. He didn't even think about the concrete versus knees issue until he found himself curled on his side trying to rub the pain out of his knees without disturbing his back. Of course, that required bringing his arms down, which seemed to cause a special brand of pain all its own.
"Do you think he's coming for you? Do you think he can protect you from me?" Xander pried his eyes open and looked at Cassidy's leering face.
"He's stronger than you," he whispered in a voice nearly gone from screaming.
"I don't think so; I took his Dru. He actually cared for his Dru, and he couldn't save her. Now you, he dangled you like bait and then left you while he and his sire played in the alley." Xander nearly laughed at the thought of Spike and Angel playing. He thought it more likely that they had tried to pull each other's heads off although that did explain the slow response.
"He could have chased the van, but he stayed with his sire. No, he used you to try and pull my empire apart, and now that you've done your job, he's just as happy to let me take over." He flinched as he felt Cassidy's hand move down his side, avoiding the whip marks with surprising accuracy. "You know that, don't you?"
Xander tried to deny it, but in his heart, he knew the truth. Spike himself had called him a pet, an inferior who would never be a lover, essentially a lower life form. He dropped his eyes, refusing to allow Cassidy to see his despair.
"Poor little human. I left you alone for so long that you had to seek comfort from that second-rate vampire, but he didn't claim you. He didn't want you."
Xander closed his eyes as he tried to close out the words. How many times had he felt this nagging emptiness as someone who had promised to love him walked away? The night Spike had chained him, he had told himself the truth then. Spike didn't need him to walk around smelling of Cassidy; the damage had already been done. No, he couldn't fool himself any more, Spike didn't claim him because Spike didn't want him. He couldn't even sort out the pain on that one. Was that his demon roaring with loss and anguish or his soul? Oh god he was so screwed up; he just wanted to be left alone. Surprisingly, Cassidy did just that. With a final pat on a naked hip, Cassidy locked his collar to a chain at the base of the column and walked away. Xander didn't open his eyes, but he could see the lights go out even from behind his closed lids.
Waking up proved even more difficult than finding a sleeping position that minimized pain had been the night before. Muscles had stiffened into awkward positions, and the cold of the concrete had seeped into his bones. Xander couldn't physically move off the floor, so he laid there until some minion noticed and mentioned it to Cassidy. He shivered as he felt Cassidy's think fingers trace along the whip marks from the previous night's entertainment.
"Hurting boy?" Cassidy whispered in his ear, the vampire's dark hair brushing across his face. "Submit and I'll call up your demon. I'll make the pain go away." Xander closed his eyes again and simply refused to answer. "Then suffer,” Cassidy finally decreed.
Cassidy had obviously called the 'court' back into session because dozens of vamp feet hurried by him, not bothering to pause when he finally lost control of his bladder and left an ever-widening yellow puddle on the floor. He seemed to remember peeing sometime during the whipping, but some minion had cleaned that mess; this time he lay in it as the vampires walked around.
"Tell Wolfram and Hart to get that sacred candle here or I'll start taking late fees in lawyer blood!"
"Yes master," murmured an obsequious voice before another set of feet rushed by him. God, this guy really did have a power trip going, didn't he? Xander tried to shift, but his back simply refused to oblige. For a moment, he concentrated on the sore muscles, trying to will them to shift his ass out of the pee, and he would swear he felt a tingling all along his backbone.
It might have just been coincidence, but he suddenly felt strong enough to shift over and escape the humiliation of lying in his own waste. Of course that also gave him the final piece of the puzzle. Cassidy said that he could call up the demon to heal him only if he submitted. Angel said the demon doesn't respond to a host. Spike had shown such surprise that he could *come* for the blond vampire. Xander finally figured out who the demon had submitted to, and he couldn't restrain a giggle. The stupid demon had submitted to its own host. He called up the demon's sights, he called up the demon's healing, and he called up the demon's attraction to Spike. Nice, he figured out that he actually wanted the damn son of a bitch just when he figured out Spike didn't want him. Just his luck.
"And what is making you so happy this evening?" He opened his eyes to see Cassidy standing over him with a thick, three foot rod in his fist.
"I've heard of phallic symbols and compensating, but that's just a little ridiculous," he snorted as he looked at the weapon. As the Cassidy raised the stick, he closed his eyes and waited for the darkness to take him again. It didn't matter anyway, he decided as he felt the heavy impacts on his side and legs. He had betrayed Gunn by helping a vampire. He had been abandoned by the vampire he had chosen over Gunn. The only job he had ever shown talent in involved letting men touch him. He barely even made it out of high school. How many times did he have to fuck up before he just admitted that he needed to walk away from this life and hope for a better one on the other side. As the rod continued to fall, he decided that he had reached the time to find out.
Again, waking up involved stiff muscles, cold through to his bones, and hard concrete. Fuck. Why couldn't he just die? As he struggled to sit up, he realized that much of the physical damage had faded. He panicked for just a minute, until some dark corner of his mind provided the answer: Cassidy's blood. The taste of it still filled his mouth. Xander scooted back on the concrete until he leaned against the pillar, the deep bruises and lash marks reduced to mere soreness and aches.
"Up again so soon, boy?" He looked over and made eye contact with Cassidy, who leaned over a heavy table with three or four others, making small markings on whatever they had laid on the table, some sort of paper maybe.
"I'm actually getting more sleep than usual, must be the accommodations," he returned with a smile. If he had to die, he was going out with style. Even as the thought flashed across his mind, an answer came back. Cassidy wouldn't let him die. Cassidy would keep him alive until he could show the vampire community that he had taken back his possession. He needed for everyone to see Xander huddled at his feet, and then Cassidy would kill him. Perfect way to stay alive until a rescue, he thought for the two seconds before it occurred to him that no one would rescue him. The most he could hope for was an accidental rescue from Spike showing up to kill Cassidy. Even then, he wasn't sure Spike would save him once he had his revenge. He tried not to be bitter considering Spike had never actually lied and declared undying love, but it was still hard.
"If you're enjoying them that much, we'll have to extend your stay." Cassidy slowly walked over and loomed over him. The vampire stood there with a slightly confused look as he clearly sniffed the air. "You are mine, you know. You will submit."
Xander considered that. Should he submit? It would be a way to escape the beatings. If he had any hope of rescue, maybe he'd fight, but he couldn't come up with any good reason to keep fighting just to continue the pain. Xander consciously released his hold on his own dark thoughts.
"I know," he whispered as he felt the demon's presence rush by him like a wind, "master."