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Shanna
shannalynn9064@yahoo.com
Willow stared wide-eyed at the vampire before her as the other gripped her tightly from behind. She struggled to get her arms free from his ironclad grip, but was unsuccessful. In her battle to break lose, the only thing she accomplished was losing her grip on her bag. She cringed when she heard the bottle of holy water break as it hit the sidewalk.
The vampire before her stalked even closer, his body pinning her tightly between the two demons. ‘You radiate power, sweetheart. I wonder if you’ll taste as good as your aura promises."
He buried his face in her neck and inhaled. Confusion crossed his face. He tore the neckline of her shirt to one side, and roughly tilted her neck. In the dim light of the moon he saw what he was searching for.
"Who do you belong to?" He snarled.
Willow’s eyes widened as her panic-frozen mind processed his question. She trembled in their grasp, wondering if it was a good or bad thing the vampire found her healed bite marks.
"What are you talking about, Thomas?" The other demon questioned.
"The little witch has already been claimed. I want to know by whom." His voice lowered to a silky purr, which terrified Willow even more. The claim smelled strong even though the wound had healed. Only a master’s claim would linger for that long. He ran cold fingers over her cheek. "Who is your master, my little witch?"
His fingers tightened painfully around her jaw when she didn’t immediately respond. "Who?"
She whimpered in pain, knowing his fingers would leave bruises...providing lived long enough for bruises to form. "Sp...Spike...William the Bloody...and his Sire, Angelus," her voice quavered. She straightened her shoulders, attempting to put on a brave front. "They both claimed me," she stated boldly.
‘Oh, Goddess,’ she thought. ‘Please, please, please, let them recognize the names. If ever there was a time for Spike and Angel’s reputations to come in handy, let this be it.’
"Angelus, eh?" Thomas looked thoughtful. "Its been over a century since I’ve run into him. There were rumors that he’d been domesticated, turned into a lap dog for the Slayer."
"Pfffft!" Willow tried to look disgusted, but figured it turned out looking more like she had gas. "Angelus help the Slayer? That would be the day. He *hates* Buffy...Oops!" She bit her lower lip as she caught her slip.
"Steadman, it appears the pet of Angelus and William is on a first name basis with the Slayer. Isn’t that interesting?"
Steadman, the vampire still tightly grasping Willow, flashed a cold smile. "Interesting indeed. Now how is it that Angelus and William’s pet is so friendly with the enemy? Care to explain yourself my fiery little witch?" One hand slid up to finger a soft strand of her hair, while his other arm tightened even further around her.
Willow twitched nervously as she felt his fingers playing with her hair. "Friendly? Oh, yeah right," she stated sarcastically while rolling her eyes. Her voice rose to a higher pitch. "We just so happened to...uh, well, we went to high school together. The principle made me tutor her in French. Yeah, French...and chemistry 0too...cause, you know all brawn and no brain. Ptooey! I spit on the Slayer. Yeah. Me, the pet of Angelus and William the Bloody. I spit on the Slayer and...and...and all of her little do-gooders that follow her around like lost puppies. Saving the innocent, good deeds, and the side of right and light is just...well, ick! My masters and I laugh in the face of right," she declared self-righteously. "Ha! See, this is me laughing in the face of goodness. Ha! Ha!" Willow looked between the two vampires who didn’t appear to be buying into her whole spiel. "Ha-ha?"
Thomas grinned at her. "You amuse me, sweetness. I can see why Angelus and William are so taken with you. Perhaps you will lead us to their lair. I wouldn’t mind catching up with them. They always had such imaginations when they were in the mood for humans to amuse them," he whispered. His fingers finally released her chin and floated down to brush over the bite marks on her neck. "Maybe if I ask nicely enough they’d share with an old acquaintance, yes?"
Willow shivered in fear and disgust. She couldn’t even imagine any vampires other than Spike and Angel tasting her blood. How weird was her life when that was one of her thoughts during a life and death crisis?
"I don’t know, Thomas," Steadman murmured. His finger traced over the skin roughened by her scars. "They haven’t renewed their claim in some time from the looks of this bite. Maybe they’ve grown bored with her, left her up for grabs." He leaned into the other side of her neck and inhaled. "Mmmmm, ambrosia." His tongue ran over her soft skin.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Willow was finally able to wrench herself from the vampire’s grasp. She stood facing the two, cheeks flushed with anger, and her finger pointing between both Thomas and Steadman. "No touching the merchandise. My masters are very possessive...and I am *so* still keeping their attention. It just so happens that my blood tastes horrible. Oh boy, does it ever. It comes from eating too many grapefruits and granny smith apples. Yeah, sour. Sour blood. Yucky! It’s like drinking spoiled milk, well, except for no clumps. But, hey! Angelus and Spike would be really ticked off if they found out you were treating me like this, so just mind your manners...or, or, or I’ll sic my vampires on you."
"Quite the little fireball, aren’t you?" Steadman said softly while stalking Willow.
Her eyes darted around; they alit upon her bag sitting on the ground behind the vampires. Concentrating hard, she levitated two stakes. Her control with one was pretty good, but trying to handle both required a good bit of concentration on her part. Thomas just grabbed her as one of the stakes struck him in the back, and the other impaled Steadman. Unfortunately her aim was off, and neither vampire turned into a satisfying cloud of dust. Thomas’ lung had been pierced, not that he needed it anyway, but it was painful nonetheless. Steadman’s stake protruded from the back of his collarbone.
While both vampires were snarling and distracted with pain, Willow decided to put into action her sudden plan. She ran. Her feet pounded the sidewalk, and she didn’t bother looking back. She knew Thomas and Steadman wouldn’t give up now that she’d royally made them cranky. Her only chance was to get to the Magic Box, or run into Buffy just as she was starting her patrol. The store was several blocks up on Main Street. Willow only hoped she had distracted both demons enough to give herself a good head start.
Her hopes came crashing down just as she turned onto Main Street. She was grabbed from behind and slammed into the stone wall of the bank. Willow’s head spun as the hard surface both cracked against the back of her skull, and the air was forced from her lungs. She put her arms up, and weakly tried to push away the shadowy figures that swam before her eyes. Her head began to pound; in some distant corner of her mind, Willow wondered if they’d given her a concussion. She’d have to compare notes with Giles if she ever got out of this mess.
Thomas peered closely at the dazed witch. "You have been a very bad girl. I’m afraid you’ll have to be punished."
A voice growled from behind Thomas and Steadman, much to Willow’s relief. "Over my undead body, you soddin’ gits."
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