fic: magister (nc17) Ch. 6

[gilescandy.livejournal.com]

A sexy man.

6.                  The Art of Seduction

Willow awoke on a large four-posted, canopy bed.  The comforters and pillows piled beneath her made her feel as if she was drifting on a cloud.  She felt nothing but peace and comfort.  This seemed strange to her.  But why?  Thoughts and memories slowly met each other in her mind and she suddenly realized that getting here wasn’t among them.  She had been in her room at Angel’s, waiting for the others.  She was working on a spell to find the vessel, to retrieve the stolen soul.  Then she heard shouting, and someone grabbed her, and blackness.  She had been kidnapped.

With a start, she sat bolt upright and looked around.  If she was a prisoner, this was a gilded cage if ever there was one.  Willow knew there must have been places like this in a city like L.A., but she could have never imagined.  The trappings of the bedroom she gazed out at were such that a queen could not complain.  Well placed lamps bathed the room in soft light that brought the pallet of cheerful, earthy colors out beautifully.  If Willow had created a bedroom for herself by magick, it would not have been much different than this.

Across from the raised nook that the bed was tucked into, there was a small living area.  A fireplace there crackled cheerfully with two high-backed chairs facing it.  Between the chairs stood a small, round table, and at the center of that was something very familiar. 

“Giles’ soul,” she breathed.

Before her body could be commanded to move, a hand emerged from the chair on the right and placed a wineglass filled with dark red liquid on the table.  The sight of this froze her in place.  There was no mistaking the owner of that long, strong hand.  She had leaned on it far too often over the past six years to ever forget.  And the onyx pinky ring was as recognizable to her as if she was looking into his soothing, green eyes.

“I do hope you’ve recovered with no ill effects,” a gentle, accented, chillingly familiar voice drifted through the room.

“I… I,” Willow could barely breathe, “I seem to be feeling fine.”

“That is wonderful to hear.”  He stood and turned to face her, leaning casually on the back of the chair.

Willow’s breath caught.  She knew it was Giles, but this was not the vision she had expected.  There was no suit, no baggy sweater, no glasses.  All of the old armor he had once used to hide himself from her, from the world, was gone.  The man that stood before her now obviously felt no need to hide from anyone.  He wore a pair of black, button-fly jeans that hugged the curves of his powerful thighs superbly well.  They fit nicely over the tops of his thick-soled, black boots.  The kind that motorcycle rider’s wear.  Tucked into the waist was a blood-red, silk dress shirt.  Its sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and the top three buttons were left undone, giving a wonderful peek of his broad, hair-sprinkled chest.

Suddenly, Willow was back in high school seeing the new librarian for the first time and feeling the butterflies of an innocent, school-girl crush tickle in her stomach.  But there was nothing innocent about the heat that rushed through her now.  She felt the blush settle on her cheeks and fought her hardest to push it down.  Her mind screamed at her to remember that until she was able to put the soul back into the body in front of her, no one she loved would be safe.  And, at that moment, she was least safe of all.

He strode forward a couple paces and stopped in the center of the room.  His gaze was steady, and Willow found it impossible to break his eye-contact.  After a few moments he spoke in a low, hypnotic tone.  “Come to me, Willow.”

Before she knew how she’d gotten there, Willow was standing before him, so close she could breathe his scent.  It was so familiar, though her mind knew it shouldn’t be.  He smelled of herbs, incense, and Giles’ aftershave (but why would a vampire need aftershave?), and that unmistakable male musk that was Giles.  But there was also something extra underneath, a hint of death.  The scent flooded her with the calmness that always came from being near Giles, yet put her on edge as she fought for self-control.

“How did you do that?” she breathed when he finally broke eye-contact and began to slowly circle her.  His only answer to the question was a chuckle, low, and sensual, and predatory.  She had never heard a sound like that come from him before and it sent a shiver of fear and lust up her spine.

As he crossed behind her, he ran his hand lightly across her shoulders, brushing two fingers over the bare skin at the back of her neck.  Willow gasped at the sensation.  His hand felt warm.  But vampires weren’t supposed to be warm.  No warm circulating blood, no warm skin.  She knew this from experience.  Spike’s hands were always cold, and Angel’s were cold and clammy most the time.  Frankly, she didn’t know how Buffy could stand it.

“How did you do that?” she asked again with more of a voice.

His lips were suddenly next to her ear.  “How could I do any less for my goddess?” he whispered.  His left hand stretched out before her, and his fingers cupped and lowered, leaving in the air a beautiful, fiery representation of a long-stemmed Calla Lily.  The flame-flower danced before her for a few moments, then extinguished itself.

“Your magick,” she whispered between labored breaths.  “It was freed when you… died.”  The last word was barely audible as she still found it difficult to admit what had happened.

“You freed me, Willow.  You gave me back who I am.”

Willow screwed her eyes shut.  “This isn’t really you,” she stated, more to herself than to the vampire.

His gentle caress of her chin brought her eyes back to his face, so familiar, so inviting.  “How do you know?” he grinned.  “How do you know this isn’t more who I am than the neutered, old man that barely earned your notice?”

Willow suddenly felt very indignant as a wave of protectiveness swept through her.  “You aren’t…  I mean, Giles isn’t old.  And he certainly isn’t neutered.  How dare you--”

“Willow,” he chuckled.  “I can tell how I’m affecting you right now.  When was the last time you looked at this body and felt so much heat?”  He stepped in closer, running a hand down her arm and caressing her fingers.

Willow trembled, knowing she should back away or stop this somehow.  But she found it impossible to move.  “I c-couldn’t,” she stammered, swallowing hard.  “You… he was my teacher and my friend.  Giles deserved beautiful women like Jenny and Olivia.  He would never even notice a silly little girl.  Besides,” she mumbled, “he probably still hates me for the last time I tried to kill him.”

Magister laughed and looked back at the urn.  “You were an old fool.”  With a stroke of her cheek his dancing eyes captured her as he purred, “I hold every memory, every desire.  You were noticed, Willow.  Your beauty, your power, your fire.  Feelings I’ve always held close to my heart, but was too much a coward to act on.  I never showed how jealous I was of Oz or Tara.  Even as we stayed with the coven, surround by available and willing women, I went to bed alone every night.  All because I couldn’t have the one I truly wanted.  I couldn’t have you.  Let me pour out my passion on you now, Willow.  Let me have you as my queen… forever.”

Willow looked at him for a moment, then her eyes turned cold and angry.  “If you’re gonna try to seduce me, fine.  If you’re gonna murder me and make me like you, get on with it.  But do it as what you are.  Don’t you dare try to use him against me.  Don’t you try to mess with my feelings for him or whatever he might have felt for me.  ‘Cause that’s one sure-fire way to make me the enemy you don’t want.  Giles would never do the things I know you’ve done.”

“I apologize, My Love,” he bowed deeply with a smile.  “You are right.  I shouldn’t pretend to be a man who could give you nothing when I am one who is offering you everything.”

Willow closed her eyes and took a few long moments to get her emotions back under control.  She knew this demon who had her friend’s body could have killed her a hundred times over by now.  He wanted something else from her.  Perhaps finding out what that was might be the key to both her freedom and Giles’. 

“Why me?” she ground out in a low voice as she opened her eyes.

“Pardon?” the vampire asked absently, his gaze now focused on her neck as if it was the most erotic sight he’d ever seen.

“Hey!  I’m up here, Buddy!”  Willow gestured to her eyes.

His emerald gaze jumped back up to hers.  “Excuse me,” he chuckled.  “Your beauty is quite distracting.”

“I want to know why me.  Of all of us, you took me.  And now you’re telling me you want me to be your queen.  I don’t understand.”

“Is it so hard to believe, my beautiful Willow?”  He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm.  “Who do you suppose I should have chosen to be with me forever?”

Willow mumbled, “I always thought your favorite was Bu--”

His loud roar of laughter made her jump.  “Buffy?”  His mirth faded into a low, sensual voice that caressed her to the core of her being.  “Buffy was the object of my calling, my reason for being in Sunnydale.  But it wasn’t until I was there that I found my reason to keep fighting.  A reason for life itself.”  He breathed into her ear, “You, Willow.”

A tear escaped and ran down her cheek.  “It’s not possible.  I never knew.”

“Hid it well, didn’t he?  He had so many reasons to mask himself from you.  Always knew he wasn’t worthy of your youth and fire.  He knew he had nothing to offer you.”  He circled behind her again, caressing her shoulders with the lightest of touches.  “But all that has changed now.  I am the one who carries this love for you.  I am the one who will give you everything he couldn’t.”

“You’re a demon.”  Willow’s whole body was trembling.  “I’m not sure if you’re even capable of love.”

“Do you doubt that vampires have such a capacity?  What of Angel or Spike?”

“You don’t have a soul.”

He knelt before her, his thumb running soft circles in the palm of the hand he held.  “That is why I need you, My Dearest.  For…  For a woman is the very soul of man, the radiance that lights his way.  A woman is… glory.”

Willow looked down at him through narrowed eyes.  “Don Quixote loved pure and chaste from afar.”

“True.  And we’ve seen how well that worked for him, and dear, old Rupert.”  He began to rise slowly, kissing his way up her arm.  “Let me show you the depths of my desires.  Let me worship you as the goddess you are.  And when we are joined we will come together as thermite and ice.  The world will reel from our power.”

By the time he stood fully in front of her, tears were streaming down Willow’s face, her body on fire, screaming for more of his touch.  “Why are you doing this to me?” she whispered.  “We both know you can just take me by force whenever you want to.  Why do you feel the need to torture me like this?”

“No torture intended, Precious One.  If I took you by force, all I would have is your body.  I desire all of you for my own.”  He wiped tears from her cheek with his thumb, the same gentle gesture Giles had used to comfort her so many times.  “I wish for you to burn for me as I do for you.  You will call out for me in the night, consumed by passion and need.  That is when I will come to you.  That is when you will know how deeply my desire smolders for you.”  He brought her hand to the front of his jeans and pressed it to the hard, physical proof of the effect her presence has had on him.

Willow gasped and jump back, suddenly crying out, “Tara!  I… I loved Tara.  You know that.  I’m gay.”

The vampire smiled as he took a few steps back toward the door.  “Yet another human issue that will have no place in your world once you join us.”

Before Willow could contemplate the meaning of that, there was a ruckus at the door.

“We want to know what’s going on,” a high-pitched, female voice became clear.

He snapped his fingers and the doors flew open, allowing several figures to stumble inside. 

“Sorry, Sir,” a guard said.   “We tried to tell them you didn’t want to be disturbed.”  His master waved him off with a forgiving smile.

A thin, buxom blond bounded up to his right side and wrapped herself around his arm.

“Harmony?” Willow gasped.

“Hey, Rosenberg.  How’s it been goin’?”  She nuzzled his shoulder.  “Tasty isn’t he?  If I knew this was what you were hiding away in that library all those years, I might have pretended to like books, too.”

As impossible as it seemed, Willow’s jaw dropped even more when a brunette cuddled up to his left.  “Drusilla?”

“It sparkles,” she giggled.  “The magick dances between you like tiny fireworks.”  The mad vampire began poking at the air like a child playing with bubbles.  “She’s ripe for you, My Lord.  When you claim her the world will spin around us with happy smiles.”

“Why’s she crying?” Harmony whispered.

“She is a bit overwhelmed,” Magister smiled gently, having never taken his eyes from Willow.  “In time she will calm and accept my love.”

“You denied our master his desires?” Harmony squeaked.

Drusilla held her head and moaned as if something was hurting her.  “She mocks us.  You must have her.  Let us give her to you.”

The two female vampires took a step toward her but, before Willow could even scream, Magister’s back was inches in front of her as he let loose a hair-raising, animalistic roar.  “Nobody touches her!  She is mine and mine alone.”

The two females cowered and made soft cooing sounds to appease him.  By the time he returned to them and turned back toward Willow, all traces of the demon had left his features.

“Patience, Ladies,” a tall, dark-skinned, handsome youth entered and stood at Magister’s back.  “Let him have his fun with his little mouse.  In the meantime, look what she’s done to our man for us.”  Willow’s eyes went wide as a strong, male hand slid around her would-be lover’s hip and securely cupped his erect manhood.

“The sun’s rising,” Harmony purred.  “Come to bed, Master.”

Willow stepped back from the bizarre scene in front of her.  His piercing green gaze captured her once more.  “Tell me to send them all away, Willow my love.  Say that you want me and there will be room in my bed only for you.  Ask me to stay with you now.”

Willow backed up again, shaking her head furiously.  She tripped on the step to the sleeping nook and fell against the foot of the bed.  “I can’t,” she whimpered, crying fat, hot tears.  “I-I can’t.”

The group of vampires turned to leave her.  Before the doors closed, the last thing she heard was Magister giving an order to the two large guards outside.  “If anyone touches her, they die then you die.”

Willow gathered herself up and ran into the bathroom.  She stood there, staring at here own pale, distraught face in the mirror.  With a couple of splashes of cold water she focused on calming her breathing.  Her sobs threatened to return when it occurred to her that she was using techniques Giles had taught her.

“It’s not him,” she pleaded with her own reflection.  “Remember it’s not him.  It’s only his body, not Giles’ soul.  Not the real Giles.”  Willow’s eyes suddenly lit up.  “The Soul!”

***

“Look at how tense she made you,” the powerful, young man rubbed his master’s shoulders as they entered the grand suite he had claimed for his own.

“I bet I can take some of the tension away,” Harmony purred, rubbing against his broad chest.

In a sudden flash of anger, Magister lifted her off the floor and pinned her hard against the wall.  “What makes you think you would be acceptable, even as a poor substitute?” he growled.  “Do you expect to please me when she is within my reach?”

Harmony giggled expectantly at his dangerous tone.

“Shh,” the young man whispered in his ear as strong hands snaked around to undo the buttons of his fly.  “Your witch queen is not ready for you yet, My Lord.  Let us take the rage and disappointment from you now.  We know you don’t want her to ever see it.”

Magister leaned back against the solid, muscled chest letting soft lips caress his neck and released his grip on Harmony as his painfully hard erection sprang free.  With a wicked grin on her lips, the blond vampire sank to her knees and took him completely into her cool, wet mouth.  From her position on his bed, Drusilla laughed and began to make pony noises.

***

Willow ran across the room to the table where the urn sat.  Licking her suddenly dry lips, she reached a trembling hand out toward it.  She jumped and recoiled when a small shock surprised her and the air crackled around the urn.

“I should have known he’d have wards up,” she whispered to herself.

As the crackle in the air faded, a rolled, scroll-like piece of paper appeared at the edge of the table in front of her.  Turning one of the large chairs to face the urn, she carefully untied the ribbon and opened it as she sat.  It was a letter written in a beautiful, flowing hand.

   My Dearest Willow,

 

   By now it should be abundantly clear that my heart cries out for you.  Yet, if you are reading this, you have turned from me to run to him.  I will not despair at this, My Love, for I understand my declaration might be a shock to you at first.  My feelings for you are as immortal as I am.  I will wait and keep demonstrating my passion for you until I have you in my arms for all time.

 

   However, if your desire is to deny me and cling to this prisoner who has never offered you what you deserve, I propose a game.  The wards I have set are layered and diverse.  They should prove an interesting diversion for one of your talents.  So the game is simple.  If you find the power to defeat my magick, your prize will be my very soul.  If my magick proves to be the stronger, your prize will be all that I am, for you are the only soul I shall ever need.

 

   As a hint, the first ward you’ve just encountered defends against the physical.  If I were you, I would not test it too much, because it grows stronger as it’s disturbed.  It would pain me greatly to see you hurt, Little One.

 

   With all that I am,

            Yours

Tears dripped from Willow’s chin as she looked up at the golden glow that was Giles’ soul.  “Why didn’t you ever tell me,” she asked in a hoarse whisper.  “And don’t you try to deny it, because I know enough about vampires to know that he wouldn’t be so fixated on me if you never had any of these feelings for me in the first place.”  Anger was building in her and she began to yell at the faceless urn.  “I mean, goddess, here I am all my life trying to find people who will love me and make me happy.  And don’t get me wrong, I know I was really lucky with Oz and Tara.  But now, after all the time we’ve spent alone and talking, I find out that ‘Mr. Untouchable’ himself, the one I could never have but was always looking for a substitute for, felt something for me, too.

“I can just see your face now… looking down with that shy little smile waiting for me to finish yelling at you so you can tell me all the excellent and logical reasons for never letting me know.  Gah… you’re just lucky that you don’t have a body right now because I so want to slap you.  Do you understand me!?”

Willow gasped as the soul gave a bright pulse of light.

“Wait!  Are you aware in there?  Can you hear me?”

Another pulse of light.

“Okay…  I’ve gotta be logical about this.  It could just be a coincidence.  How can I make sure?  Right, how about this?  One flash for yes and two for no.”

Another pulse.

“All right, something with a no answer.”  Willow smiled to herself.  “Is your name Wesley Wyndam-Pryce?”

A single pulse.

“No!  Two flashes… two for no.  Are you a fighter pilot?”

Nothing.

“Did you save Dawn?”

Still nothing.

Willow’s voice began to tremble.  “Please, Giles.  Please come back to me. I wouldn’t be so scared if I knew you were here with me.”

She jumped out of her chair at the sound of a soft knock on the door.  It opened and a small woman with dark hair and eyes came in carrying a large tray.  “Hello.  I hope I’m not disturbing you, My Lady.”

“I know you.”  Willow tried to shake her head clear.  “You were the one Faith brought.  You’re his sire.”

“That’s right.  I guess I should thank you all.  It is a great honor to be the master’s sire.”  Willow watched as she set the tray on a larger table at the other side of the room.  “He found me wandering the streets a few nights later and took me into his care.  Before my death, I didn’t even know vampires were real.  Amazing really, all his power and he chooses to look after all of us.”

“Sure sounds like Giles,” Willow muttered.  “Aren’t you jealous?  You’re his sire, but you weren’t invited to his little orgy,” she spat.

The vampire chuckled.  “I’ll never be jealous of the harpies and neither should you.”

“Harpies?”

“That’s what I call them.  They think they can win his favor by pleasuring his body.”  She took the lid off the tray and walked toward Willow.  “They’ll never admit this,” her voice dropped to a conspiratory whisper, “but even when they do manage to bring him pleasure, it’s always your name he whispers.”  Willow let a sad smile cross her lips.  “The honor he’s given me is one none of them will ever get.  He trusts me to look after our future queen, his must precious treasure.”

“B-But I don’t…”

“He understands.”  The young-looking woman took Willow’s hand.  “Now let me show you around.”  She opened the closet door.  It was full of beautiful sun dresses.  “In here you will find fresh clothing.  The master has chosen everything himself to complement your loveliness.”  She next led Willow back into the bathroom.  “You should find everything you’ll ever need in here.  I think I still remember what a living woman requires,” she chuckled.  Willows wide eyes focused on the large Jacuzzi-style bathtub that she now noticed was filled with Calla Lilies.  “And out here is your breakfast.  You must be starving.”

“Thank you,” Willow whispered, a bit dumbfounded. 

“If you open those doors,” she pointed to a set of dark curtains, “you will find your balcony.  I would set your breakfast up out there, but the sun has already risen, you understand.  The chef is one of the finest around and he has been well informed of all your favorites.”

Willow muttered, “You mean your master killed him to make him cook for me.”

“No, no…  Chef is very much alive.  Death changes your cravings, and the Teacher didn’t want to compromise his pallet.”

A weak chuckle escaped Willow at the absurdity of the situation.  “What’s that,” she pointed at an ornate armoire, “more clothes?”

Her hostess opened the doors to show that it was filled with all kinds of magic books.  “He thought you might be needing these.  The raiding parties have spent many nights trying to find the rarer volumes.”

Willow ran her fingers over the worn spines, pulling away quickly when she came to one stained with blood.  “What’s your name,” she finally asked.

“When I was alive they called me Karen.  I wouldn’t mind if you called me that, too.”

“Thank you for taking care of me, Karen.”

“It is my pleasure, My Queen.  Now, it’s getting late and I need to rest.  The guards outside are the most loyal the master has.  They’ll make sure no harm comes to you.  And if you need anything, just tell them and they’ll get me.  I’ll leave you to your meal now.”

Willow watched Karen go and went to the table.  Beside the breakfast that was releasing the most wonderful odors, she noticed a gift box.  A note on top was scrolled in the same hand as the letter.

                 A gift to make you feel more at home, My Goddess!

She opened the box and inside found a cross and a stake.  Shaking her head, she went and pulled open the doors to the outside.  Sunlight streamed in from a huge rooftop terrace garden.  Beyond the edge of the building she could see out over what seemed like the whole city waking up to the new day.  She turned and gazed at the urn.

“I gotta hand it to you, Old Man.  When you put your mind to it, you really know how to sweep a girl off her feet.”

In the brightness flooded room, the soul gave a weak pulse.


Chapter 7

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A/N:  This is just a small explanation for those of you who might not be science geeks like me.  In this chapter, Magister tells Willow that their joining will be like Thermite and Ice.  Thermite is a mixture of metallic substances that burns at over 4000 degrees Fahrenheit.  Though it can cut through steel, it does not explode.  However, when Thermite is surrounded by a large amount of ice, the two substances create a huge explosion.  This goes against logic and there is no current scientific explanation for it.  Because of this, it seemed to me an appropriate descriptor for what might happen if they joined forces.  If you’d like to see what happens, there are videos of the experiment on Youtube.  Just look up Thermite and Ice.