Connections Part Three

"Oz, wake-up, wake-up Oz you're having a nightmare." Willow's voice cut into his dream. He tried to cling to sleep, but Buffy was fading, a sad smile playing on her lips. Just before she disappeared totally, Oz saw the image of her beaten, bloody, and bruised body laying chained on a stab of concrete and then she was gone—replace by the worried face of Willow.

He jumped out of the bed; "we have trouble." The young werewolf told Willow as he led the way down the stairs into Giles' living room. The watcher looked up from the book he was reading then stood.

"What is it Oz?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

Oz glanced at the clock visible in the kitchen; "I just had a dream, Buffy was in it" Oz said.

"It's only natural for you to…." Oz interrupted the Watcher. "No, Giles' Buffy was 'in' it." The Watcher stared at the Wolf, silent, waiting for Oz to explain. "She said they were going to perform some kind of ritual at sundown!"

Oz saw the Watcher and the Witch both check the time—it was three thirty—they had exactly two hours and thirteen minutes to think of a way to free the slayer. Two hours and thirteen minutes for five normal people and Spike to figure out a way to gain entrance and defeat eleven vampires before they could kill his love, his heart.

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Buffy was drifting. Her world had been narrowed down to nothing but the pain she felt in her body and soul. When she was fully conscious—her mind clear—she understood how the vampires in her dorm room had taken her so easily. Willow's leaving had woken her and she had gone to take a shower before she joined Oz and her best friend for dinner. But, when she returned to the room she had been caught by surprise, something had hit her in the back of her head. She was able to turn around before her knees buckled and she saw Devon standing there with a blackjack….

After that, there was the continuous fog of pain broken only by brief moments of clarity. In one such moment the vamp leader had tried to break her spirit by draining and turning Devon in front of her. The vampire had carefully kept his face hidden all the while laughing as the slayer struggled against her chains in complete helplessness. Reveling his power and her weakness.

In another moment, the vampire leader told her in detail just what they were planning to do to her. He was going to torture her and use her blood to make him stronger, the blood taken from a slayer during the ritual would give him power beyond his dreams, or so he said. His plans had sickened her—but she was the slayer—she was meant to die a terrible death. No, what caused her the soul deep pain was the knowledge that if her friends came to rescue her, they would die. Because he wasn't going to drain her, kill her, he was going to bind her to him. The vampire was going to tie her to his will by blood. The slayer had no doubt the ritual would work and then when her family came, all he would have to do is tell her to murder them for him. She wasn't going to let that happen. He could beat her, whip her, any horrible torture he could think of, she would hold out.

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Buffy came back to her senses again slowly. She had no idea how long she had been out that time; but the dream with Oz was still very fresh in her mind. The slayer had tried to warn him to stay away, but she knew it was useless. Though the taste of their kiss was still on her mouth—firming her resolve to hold out not let the faceless vampire win.

"Ah, I see our guest is awake." The vampire leader commented above her head. Out of her line of sight. "Soon you will beg me for my touch. You will scream my name in ecstasy."

"Yeah, right such lofty goals." The Slayer answered.

"I see I was right." He continued, ignoring her as if she hadn't spoken. Still playing the games of not letting her see him clearly. Somewhere Buffy remembered that the German concentration camp guards would interrogated the American prisoners of war this way. By keeping out of sight the prisoner would start to endow super human size and intelligence to the guards. Keeping the prisoners humbled and easily handled.

"Given a few hours and your body will recover from a simple beating." Three vamps walked up to the altar she was chained to and began to cut away the last of her sweatshirt and shorts. Modestly was not an option so she disregarded it. The voice of the leader continued, "what a beautiful slave you are going to make. The perfect assassin."

When the three vampires had finished cutting off her clothes they started washing her hands and feet and working their way in towards her body with a sweet smelling clear liquid. Wherever the liquid touched cuts or scrapes, were immediately numbed. The relief from the constant pain stunning to Buffy. A slow languor spread deep into her muscles from the cuts outward—relaxing her against her will.

The vampire leader, started to chant in a language Buffy couldn't understand, that she had never heard before, only her body was reacting to it. As the liquid dried on her skin her nerves became alive, the feeling was euphoric, not painful and still the strange languor spread further encompassing all of her. She heard a match strike and then the sweet smell of the liquid was replaced by a bitter odor coming from some kind smoke. Her mind was slowing, she was having a hard time forming thoughts, the incredible voice chanting the words of power filled her ears and her head—pushing everything else out.

No, she fought the thrall of the words, of the drugs she knew they were using. Torture she could fight against. But, this, this slow seduction of her senses and her mind confused her. Doubt weakened her mental barriers further—the drugs were relentless in creating an open euphoric state for the chanting to induce a numbing trance totally against her wishes. She tried to hold onto to the dream kiss with Oz, but it was fading. So prepared for physical abuse she was held captive by the gentle sway of the magic and drugs as they overwhelmed her and she was lost.

After, after what, she thought peacefully, she tried to remember what it was after, but then she was distracted as she was lifted into a sitting position. She was so relaxed she could barely stay up right—the voice stopped the chanting—as she was released from the constricting chains. She whimpered at both the lost of the voice and the pain of the blood flowing into her limbs caused. Hands, hands? Hands from somewhere lifted her and stood her up—the same hands gently placed a soft cloth dress over her nude body—the material sending jolts of pleasure through her everywhere it touched.

The chanting started again; this time it was commanding, asking something from her. And she smelled yet another kind of smoke as a cup was placed between her lips and she was forced to drink from it. It didn't take much to get her to drink because it tasted so good and she was so thirsty. She was handed another cup and the fluid in it was so wonderful she drank it all in one gulp.

Suddenly, the chanting stopped; She stood swaying as the vampire walked in front of her—his face clear to her for the first time—it was Ethan.

"Who is your Master?" He asked her, Buffy's mind cleared and screamed at her to hit him, she was free of her bonds, of the chains, she commanded her body to fight—it didn't. Ethan's amused sardonic smile grew slightly.

"Who is your Master?" He repeated. The slayer tried to say, 'not you' but instead she could only stand, her body still swaying to the beat of the silent chant.

"Was my blood good? Did it taste like nothing you had ever had?" And she helplessly whined because he was right and she felt her mind beginning beg her to ask for more. "For the ritual to work you had to drink it willingly while free. The rest was just to set you up and you fell into it, like a good little girl." He laughed at her pain, at her stupidity at being tricked.

"Who is your Master?" He asked yet again. Seemingly excited by her continued rebellion. He nodded to someone behind her and he was handed a bowl of what appeared to be wine. She could smell the spices from it through the smoke that still hovered around her head.

"Do you want more, Buffy?" He asked her softly. Buffy was about to tell him where he could put whatever it was in the bowl, when her mind screamed at her to take it drink it. At her shocked expression, Ethan laughed again.

"Drink it, it will be easier for you after you drink it." He commanded, lifting the bowl to her lips and she felt herself drinking, totally confused at her own betrayal. It was so good, and it made her feel so wonderful--she felt darkness, blackness began to descend across her mind. Thinking was becoming impossible it was if a curtain was being pulled over who she was, what she was. Her determination succumbing to the irresistible combination of the drugs and magic.

"Who is your Master?" He asked again, only this time she couldn't think of a smart reply not to say. She could feel her personality being smothered under the blackness—was she just thinking something? She couldn't remember….

"Just imagine Ripper's face when his slayer, the daughter he never had, tears out his throat." He laughed again. "This part I don't need your permission for…" And he took her hand, the one that had been broken just yesterday, and kissed it. She let out a hissing breath because the nerve endings were still heightened—it was very erotic—he looked up at her, and smiled, then savagely bit into her wrist.

Buffy screamed; trying to pulled her arm away, trying to use her other hand to hit him away from her. But when he started to draw her blood up into his mouth she became lost in the glorious pain of the vampire's feeding. The girl's legs gave out and she collapsed to her knees, she felt her heart slowing, along with her mind—darkness slammed into place over the last of her rebellious thoughts—he stopped feeding and looked down at her. She loved the way he looked at her, so hungry, she knew there was something she was forgetting but trying to think beyond the blackness was just too hard.

"Who is your Master?" He asked again.

"You are." She answered wholeheartedly rising to unsteady feet.

Just then the side of the warehouse caved in as a huge Rider Rental truck came plowing through it. The slayer turned and looked at her enemies, her former family, who were now threatening her new Master? They had to die. She turned towards the vehicle preparing to fight when her Master called her back.

"Slave come with me. You are too weak and my hold over you tenuous." He said running his hands up her body sending a dark trill through her, "we need to consummate our relationship before you be mine forever." He led the way to the back of the warehouse away from the battle between the humans and his other lesser slaves.

The former slayer glanced back at the battle; two humans in the first truck were firing crossbow bolts out the windows pinning down some of the Master's forces. While a van had pulled in behind it and the human Xander was on it's roof shooting what was obviously Holy Water at the pined down Vampires.

She had to admire the strategy of the humans—yet at the same time she knew she could kill them all—if the Master would give her his permission.

"Master let me fight." She asked.

The Master turned back to her quickly and she noticed a bit of fear in his eyes. "I said no, slave. Do you want to anger me?" He told her harshly stopping to look carefully into her eyes trapping hers with his, reaching into her mind with clawed feet, shredding it. She cried out and the mental torture. She shook violently from the assault and he gathered her into a comforting embrace even as he soothed her bleeding mind.

"Obey me little one, you can't fight a blood spell alone. Don't make me hurt you again it will mar your beauty." He whispered in her ear, then turned back to continue towards the back of the warehouse. Expecting her to follow meekly, which she did.

The ex-slayer saw the trap door in the back of the warehouse as it opened. Spike jumped up out of it hitting Ethan with a right hook before the evil vampire could react. The Master fell to his knees as the slayer rushed forward grabbing Spike by the head a twisting, snapping his neck cleanly. Spike crumbled to the floor as Ethan, no The Master, she thought confused, tried to stand.

She reached down to help him as Giles' and Oz came out of the hole. The former slayer kicked out catching the Watcher in the middle and sending him flying into the wall. Buffy turned to Oz preparing to throw him against the wall, too. But, when she touched him, the young Wolf grabbed her arm and a familiar shock past through her. Suddenly her mind was clear—she shook her head why did she hit Giles?

Ethan stood and started to pull her towards the passageway, but she held her ground. At the resistance the sorcerer took in the physical connection between the werewolf and the slayer and then before either could react yanked her free of Oz's hold. Buffy felt a door slamming over her mind and the confusion left her; the Master was in danger from the werewolf she had to kill the wolf. But, the Vampire stopped her as she started forward.

"No, Buffy we will come back. We must leave now." She meekly nodded, not wanting to invoke another display of the Master's dominance. But, the Master stopped her again. Giles' was blocking the access to the tunnels by standing over the passage down with a cross extended towards Ethan. The former slayer looked at the Wolf and saw he had a stake—she growled a warning at him as she pushed Ethan behind her to protect him.

"Ripper, dear boy, it seems like we have a stand-off." Ethan said from behind his slave.

"No, I don't think so, Ethan. You die this time." Giles answered him and at his threat the slave took a small step forward.

"Come now, Ripper, you know what kind of spell I used on your slayer. You kill me before you can break the connection and her mind is destroyed." The dark sorcerer laughed. "Which would suit my purpose of causing you as much pain as I can—but would also get me killed."

Giles gave a defeated sigh and stood back from the passageway.

"Let's go Buffy." Ethan said pushing the bespelled girl forward.

Immediately, Giles stepped back cross up. "She stays."

"All right, all right." The vampire said. "Slave," he continued running his hand provocatively down her body, eliciting a seductive gasp from Buffy and an evil glare from the watcher. "Stay here. I'll be back for you. There is really no way to completely break a blood spell." He kissed her, "you will be mine."

He lifted an eyebrow at Giles and the Watcher stepped back. The vampire made his way down the trap door and was gone.

As her Master left she could feel the hold he had over her mind lessening the further away he got—a kaleidoscope of images ran through her battered mind. A whirlwind she couldn't make sense of, so her mind did the best thing it could do for her beaten and exhausted body—it shut down. As the kind darkness of sleep engulfed her she felt Oz's strong arms catch her and wrap her in a tight comforting embrace. His calmness washing over her exposed emotions in a soothing balm as she passed into unconsciousness.

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Oz sat next to Buffy on Giles' bed. The slayer had been asleep for 24 hours and it didn't appear like she was going to wake-up anytime soon. Both Giles' and Willow seemed worried about the length of time Buffy had been asleep, apparently slayers never slept this long.

She had woken twice, to go to the bathroom—Willow and Giles' taking the five minutes she had been conscious each time to pour a high protein mixture down her throat—but as soon as her head hit the pillows her lights had gone out, again.

Oz knew she just needed to sleep until her mind could both heal and deal with all that had happened to her. When she was ready she would wake-up. Giles and Willow had already found a counter spell to the Blood/Slave spell Ethan had cast—it was just a matter of gaining Buffy's waking permission. Wiccan's couldn't cast a spell on a person, even a simple healing spell, without the full consent from the person involved. So her friends stayed watching over her night and day to make sure she was safe. Even Spike had taken a turn after he had recovered from his broken neck.

Oz pushed a strand of blonde hair off her face, marveling at her beauty. A yawn escaped him and he decided that maybe he could take a quick nap. He watched as Giles' came in to the room to relieve him of his watch. So Oz, lay down next to the slayer and gathered her up in his arms, soon they were both fast asleep with the father of their hearts watching over them and keeping them safe.

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