thismaz | Prompt 82 - Threat or promise

A shorter chapter this week because, once again, I'm feeling my way. I hope you enjoy.

Title: Threat or promise
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: 82 - Utopia
At:

tamingthemuse
Rating: Older Teen
Summary: Part 21 of my pre-season one story.
Some snippets of dialogue borrowed courtesy of http://www.twiztv.com/scripts/
Word Count: 1,345
Comments: Are greatly appreciated, loved and cherished.
Previous parts:
In reverse order, in tags here
In my memories.
Or, starting here with links to the next, at the end of each chapter.
Disclaimer: here.
Now beta'd by the wonderful

laazikaat

Warning (highlight the white area to see the warning text):

Vamp Xander story

21. Threat or promise

Friday

The cage was created from an alcove cut into the rock, approximately four paces deep and five wide, with thick steel bars across the opening, so even if he had been able to reach them, it was unlikely Angel could have broken out. Opposite him, a single torch in a bracket on the wall shed enough light to illuminate most of the rest of the cave and Angel knew that his cage was one of a number, probably intended as a pantry. In the time he'd been here, that torch had been replaced six times but the others had not been lit, so he hadn't been able to see into the furthest reaches of the space. From the direction of one of the deepest shadows the smell of rotting flesh permeated the air, making Angel thankful that he didn't need to breathe. Altogether, as a view, it had quickly palled.

The sound of heavy footsteps in the passageway leading from the main cavern reached him where he sat and he raised his head from his knees. The chains around his wrists connected to those around his ankles preventing him from standing and he refused to kneel in front of a creature who once bowed before him, but to deliberately close his eyes when his captor was so close was stupid. And Angel wasn't stupid. Certainly not in the ways of torture and persuasion that Luke was so expert in.

As Darla's newly turned protégé, Angelus had sneered at Luke's devotion and the way he obeyed The Master's orders without question, but he had been impressed by Luke's skills in extracting a confession of treachery from one of The Master's court, particularly since it had been Angelus himself who had dusted the envoy, for the crime of bumping into his shoulder and not apologising. It had taken four days before Vincenzo had admitted to the murder and Luke had allowed him to die. Angelus had spent hours watching Luke at work, memorising his technique for his own future use, and Luke had enjoyed having the audience. Which was why Angel knew that Luke's attentions to him had not been as harsh as they could have been. He'd been beaten and burnt, but his intestines were still safely inside his body. His fingers, wrists and lower arms were broken, but that was more a result of his own attempts to fight back, than Luke getting serious. Luke hadn't even declared his intentions yet, contenting himself with subduing Angel's initial attempt to escape, then leaving him alone. However, it looked like that was about to change.

When he came to a halt in front of the cage, Luke's heavy frame blocked out the light, leaving him a black silhouette, and Angel concentrated on projecting an air of relaxed amusement as he blinked up at the shadowed face. His feet squarely planted Luke clasped his hands behind his back, like a priest about to begin his sermon, but his tone was almost conversational when he commented, "You intrigue me, Angelus. From your behaviour, I could almost suspect you of attempting to thwart our plans."

They both knew that Luke wouldn't kill him, not without the express permission of The Master. Luke may be old, with the greater capabilities of his age, but he was still created a minion and taking it upon himself to kill a direct descendant of the line would force his master to execute him in turn. With that advantage, unspoken but acknowledged, between them, Angel found himself unwilling to even pretend. He managed a smirk as he replied, "That would be about right."

His nonchalance seemed to succeed in infuriating Luke, who started forward, gripped the bars and growled, his voice thick through his fangs, "You are not worthy of the honour done you. You are an abomination in the face of Aurelius. I will have justice! And it will not be pleasant." His mouth stretched into a smile. "For you," he added.

Angel shrugged. "And yet," he replied with deliberation, "somehow, I can't find it in myself to care." He lifted one chained arm as far as he could, ignoring the pain as the weight of the manacle caused the broken bones to shift against each other, and gestured towards Luke. "You want to bring your master back from whatever hell he's trapped himself in. I want to leave him there. Looks like I'm in the lead."

With a visible effort Luke let go of the bars. "Unfortunately for you, you are no longer in a position to stop me. Our master has a dream. He came to this auspicious place to create a new world. A world where vampires rule. That dream shall come to pass and he will rise up and take dominion of the earth and all shall bow before him." Then dropping the portentous tone he added, in a more balanced voice, "Killing Aldric has merely delayed matters."

"Killing who?" Angel asked.

He thought Luke would ignore the question, but instead he answered, "The Chaos Mage who was to break though the veil and allow my master to return to us. His acolyte, Ethan, described you to me." He grunted and paused for a moment, thinking. "His willingness to do so was the only reason I allowed him to live." He stepped back and the light from the torch caught his face as he glanced to his right. "That, and the fact that he makes a pretty addition to the zoo."

Turning away Luke went over to the torch, pulled it free of its bracket and walked around, lighting the others from its flame, before returning it to its place. Angel took the opportunity to make a better inspection of the cave. A male arm sticking out from under what appeared to be a random heap of rags explained the awful stench. Minions! Never good house keepers, if they weren't watched. They obviously made a habit of throwing the bodies down here, rather than taking the trouble to get rid of them, away from the den. Angel wondered, for the umpteenth time in his life, at the capacity of minions to put up with filth.

Luke's return drew his eyes back to the apparent leader of this otherwise leaderless band. "Darla," Luke said, causing Angel's attention to snap back into focus, "has journeyed to Europe, searching for a book she says holds the key to his release." Strangely, he sounded dismissive, as if Darla was of little account, which wasn't right. Unless Luke had some power play in mind. His next words seemed to confirm it. "I will raise him first," he announced. "The sleeper will wake," he said, his voice heavy with borrowed gravitas. "The Master will walk among us once more! He will be restored and the world will bleed! It will be a day celebrated throughout eternity." He blinked, coming back to the present. "And to do that, I need something. Every member of the family has a place and yours is to bring me the seer."

A trickle of dread made it's way down Angel's spine. "I don't know what you mean," he said. "I haven't seen Dru for over a century."

Luke regarded him calmly. "When you killed Aldric," he explained, "you had Spike with you. Where Spike is, Dru is never far away. Since it appears you have reconciled with your children..." He allowed that sentence to peter out, in a manner that was not usual for him and a wide smile gradually formed. "They will come for you," he finished, smugly, "and I shall be ready."

Lifting his left hand in a fist, Luke casually banged the edge against one of the bars as he turned and walked away, leaving Angel staring at his retreating back. His comfort, Angel thought, was that Spike probably would come for him. The problem was that it wouldn't be for the reasons Luke imagined. And Spike's motives were crucial to whether he sprang Angel from this imprisonment, or cooperated with Luke to bring him down. As comfort went, it was not as adequate as he would wish.

Continued here.