Xander rubbed his tingling ass and shot Spike a glower, too preoccupied with the chip’s lack of response to tell Tresten.

 

“I belong to Spike,” Dawn told Tresten, eager as a puppy.

 

“And me,” Fred said, more eager than Dawn.

 

“Yeah,” Xander heard the reluctance in his voice and injected enthusiasm in his nod. “I belong.”

 

Tresten looked anything but convinced. “It is not what you said on the dark road and you do not sound like a man who cherishes belonging to the vampire. Perhaps another might light a fire in your loins?"

 

"Spike lights my loins," Xander grabbed Spike’s hand, patted it. "Believe me, there's a lot of firesome cherishing going on here."

 

“You would not mock Tresten with untruths in front of his people, would you vampire?” Tresten slanted his torso forward and stared at the cage. “Swear it on your honour, here in Tresten’s Amphitheatre and with the audience in attendance.”

 

Lips smiling and yellow eyes hating, Spike lifted Xander’s hand and kissed the pulse point on his wrist. Kept his lips there as he said, “This boy belongs to me, I swear it on my honour.” 

 

Xander thought he imagined it, and then it came again; a hot pinprick on his wrist cooled over the next instant by Spike’s tongue. Xander’s nerves wrenched tight. He fought to keep from yanking his wrist away, managed to credit his semi-erection to overactive hormones.

 

Spike’s mouth and the half-on were not related, he told himself.

 

“Can we get on with the Bidding now?” Spike asked, releasing his wrist.

 

Xander looked at the wrist and could be he’d imagined the whole thing because there were no marks to show where Spike’s fangs had broken his skin. He shuddered, didn’t know whether it was because he could still feel Spike’s lips on him or whether it was because Tresten announced, "Very well, four soldiers for four bids.”

 

Four men broke from the chain of soldiers between the pillars and picked maces from the weapons trolley in the pit. Another hurried to the cage with a bunch of keys jangling in his hand.

 

Spike took off his coat and strode out into the pit to face the four, one of them with Xander’s name stamped on his mace. Maybe it made him a bad person to accept freedom from a thing he wanted dead and he couldn't figure out why Spike would do this for him. He’d have fought three men for three bids.

 

Spike took an axe from the trolley and bared his teeth in what was presumably a smile. Shark came to Xander’s mind.

 

“Right then. Who’s dying to go first,” he tapped a flat side of the axe against his palm.

 

The heavies closed in on him.

 

*    *    *    *

 

Fifty new arrivals were herded from the Amphitheatre, through tunnels and down an endless series of staircases. Xander walked in the middle of this group, Dawn and Fred at his side. He’d caught a glimpse of Spike two staircases back, limping in the cluster of stragglers and holding his right arm close to his body. 

 

Xander glanced back again, didn’t see Spike in the throng and took charge, leading Dawn and Fred to the entrance of a cave the other arrivals had filed into. Two guards were stationed beside the entrance with a couple of long, low metal tables in front of them. One table was piled with bags, rucksacks and weapons; the other held neatly stacked pants, tunics, yellow wristbands, indigo wristbands and rolled up sheets of paper tied in the middle with indigo ribbons.

 

A third guard was standing about two steps into the cave, obstructing Xander’s way.

 

"What's the hold up?" Xander asked.

 

The guard grunted and poked at Xander’s wrist. "Earner?" He asked, “Earned?”

 

Xander felt the blood heating his neck and cheeks. He stared back at the guard, not prepared to give credence to the title by responding. Earned - by Spike? Fuck that.

 

The sentry pointed at Xander and yelled, "Earner?"

 

"Here, mate," Spike said as he came to the cave mouth, "those are my humans."

 

Seething, Xander took a bundle of clothing, a rolled up sheet and a yellow band that were thrust at him. Spike walked up to the tables and shook his head 'no' as rucksacks from the pile were presented to him, said, “yeah” when he recognised Dawn's.

 

"This yours, Harris?"

 

Xander looked at the next bag Spike held up and snatched it from him. “What?” He snapped at the guards when they raised their eyebrows at him.

 

One of the guards snarled, “Earned,” grabbed his shoulder and pushed him into the cave after Spike.

 

Xander stumbled over reclining people and squeezed through the press of disorderly newcomers to get to where Spike found a few square feet of empty floor space. Dawn and Fred fell back against a wall and sighing, slid down it to sit cross-legged on the floor, arms around their backpacks.

 

“Now all we need’s a blanket,” Dawn said.

 

Spike sat next to Dawn and spread his coat over her lap. Smirking at the chivalry, Xander took the space next to Fred. Condensation dripped from the rock ceiling onto his hair, there was babbling from all directions and the torch-lit room smelt like a dumpster.

 

“We spend one night here Spike, and find another motel tomorrow,” he said.

 

Spike grunted and rested his head on the wall. “You find another motel tomorrow. I’m going to be recovering.”

 

“I packed sun-tan lotion, gum, toilet roll, wet wipes,” Fred searched her backpack, “Hershey’s Kisses, water, water purifying tablets…”

 

“…the whole kit and caboodle,” Xander said.

 

“The First Aid Kit,” Fred pulled the kit out. “I’ll take a look at that cut on your head, Spike.”

 

Xander waited for the verbal smack down, could just hear Spike growling at Fred to shove her concerns where the sun don’t shine.

 

Back of his head still resting on the wall, Spike closed his eyes. “Go on then,” he said.

 

Well, Xander thought gleefully, he must really be hurt.

 

*    *    *    *

 

Fred was putting the kit back into her back when she frowned, took everything out and went through her possessions over and over again. Fingers fumbling, she turned out the front and side pockets of the backpack and shook it upside-down.

 

“The book’s gone,” she said. “It was in my backpack and now it’s not. It’s gone.”

 

"What do you mean it’s gone?” Spike sat up straight. “Gone where?”

 

Dawn unzipped her rucksack and emptied it on the floor, “it’s gotta be here somewhere. Xander, check your bag.”

 

Xander and Spike went through their luggage, but the book wasn’t in either bag.

 

“How do we get back home without the book?” Dawn’s voice wobbled.

 

"The chants needed to align trans-dimensional convergence are word specific. To get back to our dimension, we would need to locate the mirror-chant of the one I used to get us here and I kinda didn't commit it to memory…although, in quantum physics theory, we could open…"

 

"Talk sense," Spike glared.

 

"We can't go back. We’re marooned."

  

Xander laughed because Fred had to be shitting him.

 

Spike pursed his lips.

 

Dawn blinked at the ceiling, throat working.

 

"Nothing's changed," Spike tapped a cigarette onto his palm. "We stay until the stones go dead and in the meantime, we find the book."

 

Xander’s laughter ended on a strangled, “great.” He lurched up and went to the cave mouth, stood looking out with his hands jammed in his pockets.

 

*    *    *    *

 

What with living on pig’s blood for three years, he wasn’t the terror he’d once been. The him of old would’ve thrashed those soldiers and walked out of the pit in under ten minutes. The him of now had limped out after a thirty-minute fight he’d won by a slim margin.

 

With that in mind, how was he supposed to fend for three kids stuck in a place like this? If his role was to protect them, then they were sort of his childer. Step-childer maybe? He’d never had childer, didn’t need the responsibility. Sure he’d looked after Nibblet, but that was different. She was Dawn, he’d always look out for her.

 

He lit and pulled on the cigarette, welcoming the deep inhalation that steadied the flutters in the pit of his stomach. There were at least fifty demons to a human in this place and here he was with three humans all to himself. Demons noticed things like that. They were noticing one of his quasi-childer pacing unaccompanied at the cave mouth right now.