TurningHimOutPart1

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Author�s Note: This is an AU proceeding directly after �Crush.� Essentially when Buffy tells Spike to leave town, he goes.

*******************

The Slayer was coldly calm. �This changes everything,� she said. �You�re out, Spike. I want you out of this town. I want you off this planet. You don�t ever come near me, my friends or family again. Ever. Understand?�

She continued up to her house, Spike trailing after. �No, it�s not that easy,� he said. �We have something, Buffy. It�s not pretty, but it�s real, and there�s nothing either one of us can do about it.�

Buffy stomped into her house, the vampire close behind. �Like it or not, I�m in your life,� he insisted. �You can�t just shut me out.�

And then he slammed into the mystical barrier barring vampires from entering a dwelling until invited. There must be some mistake, he thought crazily, as Buffy slammed the door.

It took about three seconds for confusion to turn to understanding, and then to rage. Spike began pounding on the door. �You�re going to bloody well come out here, Buffy,� he shouted. �This is not over, not by a long road!�

The door swung open again to reveal the Slayer holding a crossbow trained right at Spike. �Yes it is,� she said. �The next comment on the subject will be made via weaponry.�

Spike was chastened. �Buffy, please listen,� he said.

In reply, Buffy embedded a bolt in the vampire�s shoulder, the force hard enough to carry him off the step and flat onto his back. He howled at the sudden pain.

�That was your one and only warning shot,� Buffy said. �The next one will be in your heart. You know I�m not kidding. This is it. The end.�

Spike blinked at her, his eyes glazed with agony as he jerked the arrow from his flesh. Buffy slammed the door a second time, leaving him lying where he fell.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He tried to formulate plans in his mind all the way back to his crypt, but by the time the sun rose in the morning, he had to admit defeat. The throbbing in his shoulder was testament to the Slayer�s seriousness, and her friends cared even less for him. If she ordered them to stake on sight, they wouldn�t hesitate. The boy would probably come looking for him, in fact.

No, he was always one to know when to cut his losses, and now was definitely the time. But where to go? West would dump him into the ocean, so that was out. South would take him to L.A. Which meant his Sire�s turf. Even if he laid low, Angel would get wind of his presence sooner or later, and then he was back to dodging pointy sticks. Could be amusing, but hair-boy had no sense of humor about these things, so best not for awhile. To the East was the whole rest of the country, including Las Vegas (could have possibilities), New Orleans (someplace new, for him), New York (full of happy memories), and a million nameless small towns (so very boring). Then to the North was San Francisco.

San Francisco. There was a sizable vampire population there, Spike knew, as well as human subculture that mimicked them. That meant hemo bars, and other establishments that catered to his kind. Plus, it was close enough to Sunnydale that he could keep an ear to the ground and plan his next step.

At sunset, he loaded his meager belongings into his Desoto, torching all that remained in his crypt. He was 14 miles away before the flames reached the surface.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Spike was sitting at the bar in Club Nosferatu, slowly working through a pint of blood. It was human, and when it was gone, he was officially broke, so he was trying to make it last.

He had to admit, he felt a bit like Dick Whittington must have when he found the streets of London were paved with stones. Yes, San Francisco did have a vampire community, but it was closed, exclusive. Private. And these were New World vamps. They�d never heard of Angelus or William the Bloody, and cared even less.

So once again, Spike was forced to troll the human fringes, stealing when he could, scrounging when he couldn�t. He spent his days in a crypt in Mission Dolores cemetery, and his nights wandering from bar to bar. It didn�t take long to remember why he�d gone to the slayer for help in the first place.

Just the latest in a long line of spectacular screw-ups.

�Is this seat taken?� he heard a husky female voice ask.

He looked up. She was slender, pretty, dressed in a black silk dress. And unlike most of the �vampires� here, she was the real thing. �Go ahead,� Spike said. �I�m almost done here.�

�Don�t go on my account,� she said, sliding onto the bar stool. �You�re European, aren�t; you? Have you been in San Francisco long?�

�No,� Spike mumbled. �Not long.�

�Your glass is almost empty,� she noted. �Let me call the bartender.�

�No,� Spike said, starting to get to his feet. �I�m done.�

�Please. My treat,� she said. �My name is Cinque, by the way.�

�Spike,� he said, settling back onto his seat.

�Another for my friend, and I�ll have one, too,� Cinque told the server, then, �where are you staying, Spike?�

�Here and there.�

�I have a little place up in Nob Hill,� she said. �Have a nice arrangement that keeps me in style without a trail of bodies for anyone to follow.�

Spike stared at her in surprise. �I don�t��

�Please,� Cinque said casually. �This isn�t medieval Europe. It�s not a sin to be cautious. In fact, it�s stupid to make a mess of things when there so many are willing victims.�

Spike felt a sudden wave of contempt. She was a vamp trull, one who fed off humans who paid for the privilege. He admitted there was a certain logic to it, but it so perverted the defining act of what it meant to be a vampire it made him sick to his stomach.

�I�ve a very generous sponsor,� she said. �Keeps me in fine style. I do miss my own kind, though. It gets lonely.�

Sweet Christ, Spike thought. She was coming on to him.

�Would you like to come back with me?� she asked, drawing a perfectly manicured fingernail over the back of his hand. �We could� have some fun together. The blood there is fresher, too.�

And visions of a hot bath and a soft bed and a willing vampire girl danced in Spike�s head, and he agreed before he had a chance to think too much.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He woke up tangled ion Cinque and her black satin sheets, oddly satisfied for the first time in what seemed like years. This was as it should be, he thought. No obsession, no �relationship issues,� and certainly no love. And Cinque seemed to feel the same, if he was any judge, and he usually was.

He watched her come awake, yawning and rubbing her eyes. �Hello,� she said. �Were you going to take a shower? Mind if I get one first? Taylor, my sponsor, will be here soon.�

She slipped out of bed and made her way to the bath. Spike heard the water start running and reached for his cigarettes. He had to admit, her funding arrangement aside, Cinque had nice digs. Antique furniture, tasteful decorating, beautiful art. Angel would feel right at home.

He spotted a plush red bathrobe hanging on the door and borrowed it to give himself the tour. The rest of the place was posh, as well, with a state-of-the-art entertainment rig in the living room and a fridge full of neatly stacked blood bags in the kitchen. Spike was just hunting up a couple of coffee mugs when he heard the front door open.

�Cinque,� a man�s voice called. �Where are you, darling?�

Spike peeked around the wall and was spotted at once.

�Oh, I didn�t know Cinque was having company,� the man said, although he didn�t sound surprised at all.

�Sort of a spur the moment thing,� Spike said, entering the living room. �I won�t be staying long��

�No, stay as long as you like,� the man said. �You aren�t by any chance a, uh��

�Vampire. Yeah,� Spike said. �Name�s Spike.�

�I�m Taylor,� the man said, extending his hand. �That�s my bathrobe you�ve got on.�

�Sorry,� Spike mumbled. �Was just until Cinque was done in the shower.�

�She�s done,� Cinque said, stepping in from the bedroom.

�Right, then,� Spike said quickly. �A pleasure meeting you, Taylor.�

�Don�t rush off on my account,� Taylor said. �Really. I�m glad Cinque has someone to talk to. Stay if you like.�

�No, I� I need to take a shower,� Spike said.

When he emerged twenty minutes later, clean and dressed, the apartment was eerily quiet. Expecting he would have to let himself out at dusk he returned to the living room. What he saw there stopped him cold.

Taylor was seated in a velvet chair, half-reclined, his eyes closed in rapture. His jacket was off, and his shirt-sleeve was rolled up. Cinque was crouched beside him on the floor, her demonic visage fully presented as she lapped and sucked at the blood welling from a bite-wound on Taylor�s arm. The man reached across and stroked her hair, murmuring soft endearments.

It didn�t take very long; Cinque couldn�t have taken more than a few mouthfuls before drawing her tongue over the bite to stop the bleeding. Taylor�s eyes slitted open and he leaned down to kiss Cinque�s still-ridged forehead.

�Thank you, my dark goddess,� he whispered.

Cinque nodded and rose smoothly to her feet, then saw Spike standing by the doorway. Taylor saw her start and turned as well.

�Spike, I didn�t see you there,� Taylor said, �or I�d have asked if you wanted to join us. I know blood is best right from the vein.�

�No, it�s alright,� Spike said. �Thanks, anyway.�

Taylor applied a band-aid to his arm and rolled down his sleeve. �Maybe next time, then.� He kissed Cinque again, on the lips this time, one hand on her cheek. �I�ll call and let you know when I�ll be back,� he said. Then, �Spike it was a pleasure meeting you.� And then he left.

Cinque wiped Taylor�s blood delicately from her lips. �He�s an idiot,� she said, �but he�s my idiot. Shall we take some breakfast, then?�

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Spike didn�t intend to stay. But the apartment was warm and dry. And Cinque was fun, and paid for everything, and didn�t come with any strings attached. So when one day became two, then three, then ten, it was easy to let the status be quo. And if Cinque�s pet human stopped by every few days, well, that was her business, wasn�t it?

Spike was making himself scarce on one of these occasions when Cinque entered the room where he was watching TV. �Taylor has a question for you,� she said.

With a sense of dread, Spike followed her into the living room, where Taylor was pouring himself a drink. �I have a business proposition,� the human said without preamble. �Just something for you to think about. You don�t have to give me an answer right away. You see, I have this friend. A woman friend. And she�s a bit intrigued about you. Well, not you, specifically, but the children of darkness.�

Spike managed to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

�Anyway,� Taylor went on, �I thought you might like to introduce her to the romance of the blood. Cinque would be more than happy to, but I think it would bother her to share. Plus, being male, she only has to deal with one kink at a time.�

Spike took a moment to think how best to word his decline.

�Don�t answer today,� Taylor said. �Think about it. But rest assured, she�s very nice. Clean. And she�s willing to pay for it. Cash. Two hundred dollars. Give it some thought.� He turned back to Cinque and gave her a little peck on the cheek. �I�ll call in a day or two,� he said.

�You ought to do it,� Cinque said when Taylor had left.

�I don�t know,� Spike said. �The whole idea of doing a fang-job��

�Nice,� she interrupted. �That�s a rather vulgar way to put it.�

�Sorry,� Spike said. �It�s just�� He struggled for a moment, looking for the word. �Not for me, I guess,� he concluded lamely.

�Think of the money,� Cinque told him. �Two hundred dollars for ten minutes of drinking fresh blood. You�d be a fool not to do it. And how else do you think you�re supposed to make money? Work the overnight shift at the all-night gas station?�

To himself, Spike admitted this was a good point. So when Taylor called two days later, Spike agreed to meet his friend.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Millicent was a rather plain woman at least ten years Taylor�s senior, but she came in a frilly yellow dress with her hair carefully styled as though on her way to high tea. Spike watched her enter the apartment from the dining alcove where he could observe her without being immediately seen.

The woman giggled nervously, her face flushed, and Taylor steered her into a chair. Cinque glided serenely into the room, and greeted them both.

�You�ve a lovely home,� Millicent said, staring wide-eyed at Cinque. She shook her head in disbelief. �I can�t believe it,� she stage whispered to Taylor. �Is she really..?�

Cinque held out her hand. �See for yourself,� she said.

�Oh, you�re cool,� Millicent said. �Like a reptile.� She checked Cinque�s wrist. �And you don�t have a pulse. Amazing.� She turned back to Taylor. �It�s exactly as you said.�

�Of course,� Taylor said, then to Cinque, �where�s Spike?�

�In the kitchen, I think,� Cinque said vaguely, and Spike slipped from his hiding place.

�I�m here,� he said.

Millicent slumped in her chair, on hand fluttering against her chest. �He�s absolutely marvelous,� she said to no one in particular.

Taylor moved his usual chair closer to Millicent�s. �Cinque and I will begin,� he said, sitting down, �and then you and Spike can go ahead.�

�Yes,� Millicent said faintly. She turned and pointed at Spike. �You,� she said, �come here beside me.�

Filled with self-loathing, Spike crossed to her and dropped beside her on the floor. In his mind he chanted �two hundred� over and over.

Cinque descended to the floor beside Taylor. She gave Millicent a re-assuring smile across the man�s lap before relaxing into her demon-face. Taylor shuddered in anticipation, while Millicent gave a start of surprise.

Cinque�s fangs cut smoothly through Taylor�s flesh, and Spike could smell his blood an instant before it came to the surface of his skin.

�Does it hurt?� Millicent asked quietly.

�Just enough to bring pleasure,� Taylor said.

�I don�t have to bite you,� Spike said suddenly. �In fact, I wasn�t planning to.� At this, Taylor�s eyes snapped open and he shot an angry glare in Spike�s direction, but the vampire ignored him and withdrew a small knife from his boot. �I want you to cut your skin yourself,� he said. �You don�t have to be frightened. I won�t hurt you.�

Millicent took the knife with trembling fingers, and laid it flat against the pale skin on her inner arm.

�Just a small cut,� Spike whispered. �Don�t go too deep.�

She drew the blade quickly across her flesh, and drops of blood came up like beads. Spike bent forward and lapped them up, like a cat.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Millicent had been gone for an hour, and still Spike couldn�t bring himself to speak.

�You were wonderful,� Cinque re-assured him. �So gentle. And having her open the wound herself: brilliant. It was exactly what she wanted, what she needed. You were beautiful. Magnificent.�

Spike nodded dumbly, still tasting the woman�s blood in his mouth. Hating himself for doing it and yet unable to deny the hunger her living blood had re-awakened in him. A hunger he had only one way to feed.

�I�m so proud of you,� Cinque repeated for the fourth or fifth time. �Two hundred dollars! What shall we buy with it then?�

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Eleven days had passed since Spike had first taken money for drinking Millicent�s blood and the woman had returned to him twice. She�d gotten bolder each time, reaching out to touch his shoulder, his hair. She asked to touch the ridges on his �vampire-face,� and he shuddered as she exclaimed with delight upon discovery that they were not rigid, like bone, but gave slightly under her fingers.

She continued to pay him well, but also brought little gifts for him- a blue silk shirt and a necklace of heavy, silver links. Cinque told him he should wear them for her, and it didn�t seem worth it to explain he always wore black.

But tonight Taylor had arrived and announced he was taking the two vampires to a party. They rode in a limousine to a high-rise hotel in the financial district. The party was being held on a floor that had been converted into one enormous suite, probably for parties just like this, Spike guessed. There was money in this room, he sensed immediately, just before he realized there were also several vampires.

�You two mingle,� Taylor told them, and Cinque pulled Spike to a corner of the room where three vampires sipped blood from tall wine glasses.

�This is Trinity and Kadija,� Cinque said, indicating the two females, then the male, �and that�s Bismarck. This is Spike.�

�Charmed,� Trinity said, and the other two nodded.

�I�ll fetch us some drinks,� Cinque said, moving off.

The three vampires regarded Spike skeptically. �You must be new,� Bismarck said. �I haven�t seen you around before.� He arched one eyebrow. �I was brought across in 1997,� he said. �What about you?�

Spike fought back a sneer. When Were You Made? was a game played only by younger vampires, ones anxious to gain the power that came with age, and still too inexperienced to know that when they reached that point, no one would have to ask how old they were. �It�s been a few years,� Spike hedged, knowing they wouldn�t believe the truth.

�Cinque was made in 1984,� Kadija said. �She�s the oldest vampire here.�

Don�t be so sure of that,� Spike thought.

Cinque returned and handed Spike a glass of blood. �You�re getting some attention,� she said to him.

�Am I?� he said, suddenly wanting the party to be over.

�The guy in the gray suit and the horn-rimmed glasses just told me he�d pay us five hundred dollars if we both did him at once,� she informed him.

�How flattering,� Spike said dryly.

�You have to do it with me,� Cinque said, her tone clear she was not going to argue the point.

�I can�t believe you�d even consider refusing,� Bismarck said. �That�s an extraordinary sum, even by these standards.�

Spike did some mental arithmetic. If he took this offer, plus a few more, he�d have enough for the deposit, plus a month�s rent on an apartment. Not a great one, not at the current inflated market, but he didn�t need luxury. And if he got away, he�d have time to think, to plan his next move.

�Lead on, then,� he said to Cinque.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Riding home in the limousine, there was a definite pall hanging over them. Taylor, normally talkative, barely grunted responses to Cinque�s questions. When they arrived at her apartment, he stomped up the stairs behind them, glaring all the way.

They�d barely closed the door when Taylor turned on Spike. �I don�t know what game you think you�re playing,� he said coldly, �but I don�t like being made a fool.�

Spike swallowed hard. �I don�t know what you mean,� he said.

�Don�t play stupid with me,� Taylor said, his voice raising. �You stay in this apartment that I pay for, bite my friends, take their money, and laugh at me. That money, by all rights, belongs to me!�

Spike stuck a cigarette in his mouth and flipped open his lighter. �The hell it does,� he said.

And in a sudden fit of rage Taylor advanced on the vampire, one fist raised. Spike blocked the first punch, but when he drew back to defend himself the chip went off, sending white fire through his brain. Spike yelped in pain and staggered back.

Taylor�s mouth dropped open in shock. He turned to Cinque. �What is this? Some kind of spell?�

Cinque shrugged in confusion, and Taylor re-focused his attention on Spike. �That�s why you can�t bite people,� he said. �It�s a hex, or a curse, or something.�

Spike felt a cold fear coil around his stomach. He pulled his packet of bills from inside his jacket and threw it at Taylor. �there�s your damn money,� he sneered. �I�m leaving.�

Taylor stepped into Spike�s path, his eyes glittering. �I don�t think so,� he said. �I think you�re going to stay here. I think you�re going to do fang jobs for whoever I tell you to, and you�re going to give me all the cash.�

Spike turned to Cinque, his eyes black with hatred. �You set me up,� he said, his voice low. �You fucking bitch! You set me up!�

Taylor backhanded Spike hard enough to knock him down, then gave him three sharp kicks in the ribs. The vampire groaned in pain, both from the blows and the reaction from the chip as he tried to fight back.

�That�s the last time you do that,� Taylor told him as he panted for breath. �Get me the phone, Cinque.�

The vampires handed him the cordless, and Taylor began dialing. �I�m a very powerful man in this city,� he said. �I haven�t been working on you all these weeks just to let you walk out. I�m calling a wizard friend of mine now. He�ll put a charm on these doors in no time, stop you from even stepping one foot over the threshold. We�ll see who has the smart mouth and the bad attitude then.�

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

�I don�t see why you�re so unhappy,� Cinque said. She was painting her nails at the vanity while Spike stared sullenly out the window at the fog spilling over the surrounding mountaintops.

�Are you serious?� Spike snapped at her. �I�m a prisoner to a mortal and trapped with a treacherous, bubble-headed traitor to her own kind.� He lowered his voice to a low whisper. �If I could think of a way to get out of here, I would kill you in a second.�

�For what?� she said, unfazed by his threat. �I think you should just go along with Taylor. You play nice, like I do, and he�ll take care of you.�

�I�d rather stake myself,� Spike muttered.

�Please, don�t let me deprive you of the privilege,� Taylor said from the doorway, and barely sparing a sneer in his direction, Spike turned back to the window.

�I have some friends coming tonight,� Taylor said, moving into the room. �Six of them, to be exact. Cinque, I want you to take care of two of them and our blond friend can handle the other four.�

Spike didn�t move, only continued to stare out the window. Taylor moved toward him and leaned in close to Spike�s ear. His voice took on an insidious tone. �If you don�t co-operate,� he said, �I can make things very uncomfortable for you. My friend Jagger, who charmed the doors, is a necromancer. You know what that means, don�t you?�

Indeed Spike did. It meant the man had magical power over the dead. The dead including vampires.

�He *could* make you stake yourself,� Taylor went on. �He could make you go for a mid-morning stroll. Or he could make you his plaything, put you in a box when he got bored. But we both know you�re smarter than that.�

Spike couldn�t suppress a shudder of fear, but he didn�t reply.

�Four,� Taylor said flatly. �And show then a good time. They�re paying a lot for it.� The man turned to Cinque. �What do you say, sugar? Time for a quick one before I go?�

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The latest anonymous client rolled down his sleeve as Spike knelt beside him, his head bowed. �That was� great,� the man said, breathless. �I mean, what a rush.�

�Thank you,� Spike said, his voice barely audible.

The man cupped Spike�s cheek in one hand, raising the vampire�s face to him. Spike remained with his demonic side presented, and the man ran his thumb over the ridges around his eyes. �I appreciate it,� the man said kindly. �You probably don�t know what it�s like to feel so trapped and alone. What you do for me brings me such release.� He stood and went to the dresser, dropping a bundle on top. Then he left without another word.

Shakily, Spike got to his feet. He looked at what the man had left him: his payment for the job, plus a healthy tip (not that Spike would get to keep it) and underneath, a slip of folded paper. Spike unfolded it to find the man�s name, Philip, and his phone number, along with a hastily scribbled note: �If you ever decide to leave Taylor�s employ, call me. I could take good care of you.�

Spike barely made it to the bathroom before vomiting up the blood he�d drunk that evening.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Spike watched Taylor from his usual spot by the window. He barely spoke anymore, and only moved to service his �clients.� Taylor had given up on the threats, probably out of boredom, Spike thought, and had now moved onto a game where he pretended Spike was a sulking child to be cajoled with gifts and treats.

�Look what I have for you today,� he said, not meeting the vampire�s burning gaze. �I brought you a Play-Station. I thought it might help pass the time. I�d appreciate it if you didn�t destroy it, like the DVD player, but that�s your decision, of course.�

Spike didn�t move, didn�t blink. Humans sometimes forgot that vampires were walking corpses, and as such could be more still than any living creature. In spite of his bravado, Taylor was unnerved, Spike could tell.

�I�ve been hearing good things about you,� Taylor said. �You�re doing well.�

Spike could have been a statue for all the reaction he showed.

�Don�t look at me like that,� the man blurted out. �I had to do it. I couldn�t afford to keep Cinque otherwise, couldn�t maintain my business.� He pulled some fresh clothes out of his bag and dropped them next to the game console. He looked as though he wanted to say more, but instead left without further comment.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Cinque was pitching a major fit, shattering glassware and plates against the fireplace. Taylor cowered behind a wing chair, appealing to her to calm down, while Spike watched impassively from the bedroom doorway.

�You bastard!� the vampiress shrieked. �I can�t believe you were paying Trinity with my money!�

�Please baby,� Taylor pleaded. �It�s business. I have to spread the money around.�

�You lying son of a bitch!� Cinque screamed, smashing a coffee mug for emphasis.

�Maybe you should get Jagger to bring her under control,� Spike said softly, his first words to either of the others in weeks. The silence that followed them was instantaneous.

�You keep out of this,� Cinque hissed.

�Don�t kid yourself,� Spike informed her. �He�d do it.� He turned to Taylor, still behind the chair. �Wouldn�t you?�

Taylor seemed to come out of a daze. �No, no, I�d never do that to her. She�s my partner in this. Aren�t you, sweetheart?�

�Yeah. And don�t you forget it,� she said, but she seemed suddenly drained of energy.

When Taylor returned the next night, she was gone. Six hours later, Trinity moved in.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Trinity, a beautiful Eurasian, did not harbor any illusions, like Cinque did. Made with a defect that left her no stronger that the average human, she depended on a regular clientele for survival. Having Taylor to procure customers and offer protection was actually to her advantage.

She didn�t seem to care if Spike spoke to her or not, but would simply address comments half to herself, half to the world at large, whenever they were alone. Perhaps it had been his century with Drusilla, but Spike found the habit re-assuring. And the information she imparted was useful to him, if troubling.

�Taylor thinks he�s such a big wheel,� she muttered to Spike one night not long after her arrival. �He doesn�t see Jagger and the others laugh at him. When he is no longer of any use, you�ll see what happens.�

She told Spike about the large �Fang Houses,� high-end fang clubs where dozens of vamps cycled through hundreds of clients a night. She told him about Jagger, and his followers under him, and the truly astonishing amounts of cash that flowed through his organization.

And Spike wondered if he�d ever be able to escape.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Spike knew the day would come eventually, but it was sooner than he expected. Taylor marched into his room and barked, �get up!�

Very slowly, Spike climbed off the bed, glaring at Taylor all the while. When he was on his feet, the man�s hand snapped out, connecting with Spike�s face. The vampire recoiled from the blow, but did not make a sound.

While he was still rattled, Taylor grabbed Spike by the neck and dragged him to the living room, and there shoved him to the floor. Spike didn�t get up, but crouched there, his teeth bared like an animal.

�Please, Taylor,� said a cool, sibilant voice. �There is no need for brutality.�

Spike jumped to his feet and spun, seeing the voice belonged to a slim man in elegant clothes. Though his face looked young, his hair was a gleaming white. Even without being told, Spike knew this was Jagger.

The necromancer looked Spike up and down, seeming to appraise him with his eyes. Spike stood still, but his insides felt like they�d turned to water. He was one step away from begging Jagger not to hurt him.

�Please leave us for a moment, Taylor,� Jagger said, not looking away from Spike.

�I don�t�� Taylor began, and Jagger allowed his gaze to shift in the other man�s direction. Taylor swallowed nervously.

�I�m sorry,� Jagger said. �Did you want to tell me something?�

�No,� Taylor said. �I�ll just step into the other room.�

�Why don�t you run to the corner and get some cigarettes,� Jagger told him, looking back in Spike�s direction. �Take Trinity with you. Don�t rush back.�

�Right,� Taylor said, then he took the vampiress and nearly ran from the apartment. When he was gone, Jagger addressed Spike.

�So,� he said. �I understand you don�t bite. I don�t sense a geas of any kind. Is it perhaps by choice?�

�Hardly,� Spike said. Jagger waited patiently for him to elaborate, and at last Spike did. �Army types. Electronic chip or some such. In my brain. Can�t hurt anything alive.� He shrugged. ��Cept demons.�

�Interesting,� Jagger said. �So you were in Sunnydale.�

Spike�s head jerked up at that. �You know about..?�

�Of course,� Jagger said. �You aren�t the only refugee. Did you ever cross paths with the Slayer?�

Spike shrugged, knowing now was not the time to brag. �Once or twice.�

Jagger nodded, then abruptly changed gears. �I suppose you�ve figured that Taylor is selling you to me in order to reconcile some of his debts.�

Spike nodded, his throat suddenly too dry to speak.

�Honestly, he spends like a drunken man,� Jagger said conversationally. �No management skills at all. The fact that he thinks you the less valuable of his acquisitions only proves that he is a fool.�

Spike was surprised by this turn in the conversation. �What do you mean?�

�Consider this,� Jagger said. �Why do humans come to vampires voluntarily? For some measure of comfort, of course. But in the back of their thoughts they fear the vampire may lose control, may kill them. So they pay. Understand, they do not pay for you to bite them; they pay hoping you will stop. But you� you cannot drain them, you can�t even take enough to hurt them. He could hold an auction for you and every fang-junkie in the world would sell his own children to possess you.� Jagger tapped his forehead. �That�s Taylor�s problem. No greater vision.�

Spike swallowed hard. �Is that what you�re going to do?� he asked. �Sell me to the highest bidder?�

�No,� Jagger said. �Money is meaningless to me. In fact, I�d like to keep the fact of your existence a secret.�

Spike was now thoroughly confused. �Then what..?�

Jagger glanced at his watch. �I�m sorry. We still have several things to accomplish yet. Get your things and come with me. I�ll explain soon enough.�

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

�Naturally,� Jagger told Spike when they were en route to The House of the Dragon, Jagger�s base of operation and the largest and most expensive fang house on the west coast, �I cannot allow you to service our normal clientele. In fact, it�s best for me if you and your situation were not common knowledge.� Jagger�s voice took on a patronizing tone, as though he were addressing a mischievous child. �You see, I know who you are, Spike. I know how old you are, and the various turns your fortunes have taken over the years. But if these is one thing your history suggests to me, it is that when the time comes for my ultimate goal to bear fruit, you will be very valuable to me.�

Spike couldn�t help a small shudder. �What�s going to happen to me?�

�In time,� Jagger said. �Ah, we�ve arrived. Come with me, please.�

Spike followed his captor into an enormous and opulently outfitted mansion. On the main floor a party of some sort was going on, and as Spike was hurried past the doors he saw vampires and humans alike engaged in various decadent pursuits. They shortly came to Jagger�s office and Jagger bade Spike have a seat.

�Now, this ultimate goal�� Spike began.

�Is not your concern yet,� Jagger said coolly. �Allow me to elaborate what is your concern. Your rooms will be adjoining to this office, through that door. You will start as my personal servant. If you do well at this task you will be appointed minions to take over your duties as you see fit. If I am dissatisfied in your performance, you will serve the trulls below as punishment. If you continue to be disobedient, I�ll have to force you to obey, and neither of us wants that. Do we have an understanding?�

�Yes,� Spike said sullenly.

Jagger opened the door to Spike�s rooms. �Then let us begin.�

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Spike stared out his window at the other beautiful mansions in the neighborhood where The House of the Dragon stood. The only thing that changes, he thought, is the gilding on my cage.

�Spike. Listen to me,� came Jagger�s voice on the intercom. �I�m meeting with some associates in a few minutes. Get ready and meet me in my office.�

Automatically, Spike obeyed. Although Jagger had yet to use his powers on Spike personally, the blond vampire had been witness to many demonstrations. Unlike Taylor, the necromancer was uninterested in keeping his workers through bribes and blood. If any of the vampires for hire, whom Jagger called �fleas,� stepped out of line, they were punished by being required to wait on the others and on Jagger�s human associates. If they resisted punishment, Jagger simply bent them to his will by magic, which he did as easily as the Slayer�s red-headed witch floated pencils.

Spike had watched, horrified, as vampires were moved about like grotesque puppets, forced to bite themselves or each other, to crawl like dogs at Jagger�s feet, and in one case to dance in the courtyard as the sun rose above him and burned him to ashes.

Spike dressed in what he had come to think of as his uniform, a leather and nylon affair which Jagger thought was intimidating, but which reminded the vampire of something which would have been worn by a member of the new-wave group Frankie Goes to Hollywood.

Spike entered Jagger�s office and fell in beside Jagger�s bodyguards. He presented his vampiric countenance just as the necromancer entered with three other men, and they fell silent.

�Now, then,� Jagger said, sitting down at his desk. �Let us discuss the terms you are prepared to offer.�

Go on to part 2 of "Turning Him Out"