<This time, this is it. >

Morghane could see it in Hardy's gaze. If the two bastards had been entirely lacking in expression so far, they couldn't keep from drooling all over themselves now.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time.

< And on the bright side, it will be the last. >

They had tied her up and she was lying on her back - wrists crushed against the cement and the cuffs by the weight of her own body. It didn't help when Hardy sat down on her waist, leaned forward and forced his tongue inside her mouth.

A terrible pain ripped her apart from the inside - she was suffocating, and her stomach rose up to her throat.

Hardy's hands hiked up towards her chest, ripping away the last button of Angel's shirt. His fingers closed down cruelly around her breasts, pinching the nipples which tightened against her will. Her insults died in her assailant's mouth.

She felt another pair of hands pulling her jeans down on her knees, parting her thighs roughly. Someone ripped her panties off and it was stronger than herself. For the first time since the torture had started, she tried to resist.

It was futile.

An object, long and cold, glided between her legs and stopped at the entrance of her vagina, playing with her clitoris. A primal terror invaded her, an unprecedented panic attack.

"No! Assholes! Fucking bastards! Leave me alone!"

She felt like she would just stop breathing and asphyxiate. She couldn't stifle a shriek when it penetrated her.

Since Hardy had left her mouth to bite her breast bluntly, her scream ricocheted inside the cell.

Laurel forced the object deeper inside of her.

Excruciating agony.

She closed her eyes.



Angel swayed and grabbed onto the first support he could find.

Spike's shoulder.


Buffy heard Spike's frantic call and backtracked quickly.

When she reached the two vampires, Spike was on his knees, holding Angel tightly against his chest. The older vampire seemed unaware of his Childe's frightened embrace. His face was turned upward, his expression vacant, but his eyes... his eyes glowed white.

Buffy pushed away the dirty, mated hair that stuck to her face. She threw herself next to her lover, trailing her hands all over him, unconsciously looking for injuries.

"Angel, Angel what's wrong? Angel, answer me."

Her voice cracked.

"Angel, come back to us."

She drew the outline of a cheekbone with the tip of a trembling finger.

"Angel! Please!"

Forceful now.

When he didn't respond, she slapped him. Hard.

The big vampire quivered and his irises regained their profound, more usual sable tones.

A tear rolled with agonizing slowness down his pale cheek and he gasped.





Morghane heard the vague jingle of a belt buckle followed by the whistling of a zipper.

< Please, no, please. Haven't I deserved that much dignity? Why couldn't you let me pass away in peace? >

Hardy's fist closed around her hair, forcing her head back.

"If you bite me, you'll be begging for my friend and his bat."

< What...? >

Hardy forced his erect cock in her mouth - guiding himself with one hand and sadistically twisting a nipple between clawed fingers with the other.

She struggled to let her muscles relax, taking more of Hardy down her throat to keep from choking and he twitched against her tongue.

Laurel was still busying himself between her legs.

A hand closed around her neck and another over her nose. Hardy's cock swelled inside her mouth. He rubbed himself against her lips, pulling her hair, fucking her mouth, and she knew he was going to spill his cold, bitter seed down her throat.

She convulsed as her lungs cried out for oxygen. Tears of fright, pain and exhaustion slipped passed her lids.

The door opened suddenly.

"Enough. Leave her now."

< Lisandra. >

An arrogant chuckle. "I know you like to fuck them dead, Johann. But I warned you before... not her, not now. Be a good boy and bring her out, will you?"

Morghane expected Laurel and Hardy to protest but they moved away from her soundlessly. She gasped for air. The object that had so savagely invaded her withdrew and she realized that Laurel had used the handle of the bat. Hardy - Johann - stood and she could breathe again. She turned on her side and threw up, but she had ingested almost nothing in the last few days. Her stomach was empty and she dry-heaved painfully.

She rolled on her back. She stayed there, motionless and silent, incapable of protecting herself from another assault, staring at the ceiling. She was going to lose consciousness. Soon. She only saw a vast white nothingness circled with black.

Hardy untied her rudely and pulled her up. After straightening her clothing somewhat, he literally hauled her out of the cell, along a corridor and into a much wider room. She tried to find her feet, but she couldn't. She felt blood dripping between her thighs, staining her jeans.

When the vampire let go of her, she fell to the floor in a heap.

Solid, familiar arms slid around her shoulders.


"Still here."

The werewolf's voice was strained.

Was it anger?

A cool, clean cloth brushed her face - delicately wiping away the evidence of her humiliation.

"Water...?" she murmured, hopeful.

"I..." This time, she definitely heard Oz' voice crack around a whisper. "I don't have any."

Her vision cleared a little. Laurel and Hardy were nowhere to be found and for this small blessing she was grateful.

Lisandra sat regally a few feet away from the two of them huddled on a thin blanket.

"This is boring," hissed the vampiress between her teeth. "Why won't you fight?"

Morghane tried to sit up and bit back a gasp. Oz helped to settle her between his legs, against his chest. She heard the rattle of chains and looked to her right. Oz' ankle sported a thick steel cuff. He was shackled to the wall behind them.

She turned contemptuous eyes on her nemesis. "You're small, Lisandra. Not quite worthy of my consideration, I'm afraid."

The young woman chuckled - undaunted.

"Cheap taunting?" Lisandra snorted, unladylike. "How the mighty have fallen."

She retreated behind a predatory grin.

The Guardian was unimpressed. "You're not trying to mind-fuck me, Lis, right? Or do we need to bring up my ripe old age again?" She smiled. "I don't play games."

She felt Oz tense behind her, but to his credit the werewolf didn't utter a sound. She sent up a quick prayer that he be spared the violation of being turned after she died, but he was on his own to escape. She couldn't wait any longer.

It all happened in the blink of an eye.

Morghane didn't have enough energy left to summon a weapon from the ether but telekinesis required very little power expenditure. A simple command and the knife that had been forgotten on a table across the main room of the warehouse found itself in her hand and she was ready to bring it across the soft flesh of her own throat.

She never made it.

Before she even realized what had happened, Lisandra had crossed the room and ripped the blade out of her hand. Enraged, the vampiress grabbed her by the throat, pulled her to her feet away from Oz and threw her against a pillar.

Morghane didn't even have the luxury of sliding down to the floor. A thick metal chain wrapped itself around her at Lisandra's forceful command, securing her tightly to the column of concrete, arms pinned at her sides. She struggled vainly against the restraints.

Oz was standing up a few feet away from her, straining against the cuff imprisoning his ankle. He growled low in his throat - and Morghane acknowledged the wolf in him.

Delighted, already back in control of herself, Lisandra strolled disdainfully towards her prisoner and sniggered.

"What a pathetic little display, Guardian. And desperate, too." She smirked. "But I can't let this rebellion go unpunished, I'm afraid." She smiled hungrily. "So, hm, Oz..."

"No, Lisandra, please don't. Take it out on me, I don't care... just, please, I'm begging you..." A defeated whisper. "Just... just let him go. I'll do anything..."

Lisandra looked like she was seriously considering it.

"Oh. Okay."

Morghane sagged in her chains. "I... I told you. I won't play your games."

The vampiress seemed offended. "No games, Guardian. I will let him go... in a few minutes." She caressed Morghane's cheek, softly. "In a few minutes. But first..." Lisandra glided long, unhurried hands over Morghane's shoulders, then down her throat, gently pushing away the tatters of Angel's shirt - exposing her breasts.

The Guardian drew a ragged breath in.

Lisandra brought her lips across Morghane's mouth. The Guardian turned her head away.

"You did say anything..." Lisandra taunted.

"I..." She smothered a whimper. "I..."

The vampiress' eyes flashed and she uttered a simple, sharp word.

The chains tightened, pressing on her ribs, and this time Morghane couldn't stifle a moan.

"Think of Oz..."

"W... why?"

Lisandra smiled hungrily. "Just because I want to."

"Please, let Oz go now..."

She heard the rattle of the werewolf's shackles, but couldn't bear to look at him.

"But I want him to watch," whined Lisandra.

Beaten, Morghane closed her eyes - hanging in her chains.

"That's better," murmured the vampiress, trailing a hand around the Guardian's exposed left breast. And this time, when Lisandra leaned forward, Morghane let her invade her mouth without resistance. The vampiress nipped at her lips, almost gentle, then traced a path of moist kisses down her throat, lingering over her jugular. She raked her nails down Morghane's shoulders, not breaking the skin - fingering a bruise or a lash mark here or there. But the Guardian didn't flinch.

When Lisandra reached her breasts, she fastened her mouth to the Guardian's right nipple and pressed her against the pillar with all the length of her body. She unhooked Morghane's jeans blindly and slid one hand inside the rough material, between her legs. Three crude fingers slid inside her sex - she wasn't wet - scratching the oversensitive skin, but the Guardian didn't even jerk.

Morghane leaned back against the concrete, ignoring her burning back, her painful nipples, the brutal invasion of her core, the nails scraping the fragile skin of her mound. She slumped in Lisandra's embrace, like dead.

At first, her tormentor didn't notice her lack of reaction. Lisandra slowly glided down the length of her thighs, moving her fingers in and out of the tight channel. She growled softly, following the glistening shape of the outer lips of her sex with the pad of her thumb, and closed blunt teeth around Morghane's clit.

The Guardian barely shivered and turned her eyes away. She looked at Oz.

The young man was facing away from her, head bowed.

She almost wept - deeply touched by this small gesture of respect.

A hard slap brought her face back around and she stared into Lisandra's maddened, vampiric visage.

"Look at me, bitch." She snarled. "And you, Oz, if you want to make it out of here in one piece, you better turn around this way and watch."

Oz didn't budge, his shoulders shaking slightly.


At Morghane's quiet whisper, he stilled.

"Oz, turn around, please."

He did as she bade him. Slowly, he raised his eyes to her, shying away from her exposed chest and thighs. His eyes were gleaming, his expression was hard and lost at the same time.

She smiled gently for him - yet didn't say a word.

She knew he understood. Now was not the time to test Lisandra's patience. If there was one chance that the vampiress would keep her word and let him go, they had to take it.

Satisfied, Lisandra grinned around her fangs.

"Now, where were we?"

Without warning, she sunk razor-sharp teeth in the Guardian's left nipple.

Echoes resounded inside the confines of the warehouse long after Morghane's scream died.