The streets of the city were quiet tonight, the kind of quiet that made the hairs on the back of Spike’s neck stand on end. The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie silver light over the abandoned alleyways and empty storefronts. Spike walked with a purpose, his duster billowing behind him as his boots crunched over the scattered debris of the forgotten part of town. He wasn’t one to get involved in others’ business, not unless there was something in it for him, but this time was different. This time, it was you.

He caught your scent before he saw you—faint, mixed with fear and adrenaline. His jaw clenched as he quickened his pace, weaving through the maze of alleys with a hunter’s precision. You were in trouble, and whether it was because of some unholy beast or your own recklessness, Spike couldn’t just let it slide.

When he finally found you, the sight nearly stopped him in his tracks. You were cornered, back pressed against the cold brick wall, facing off against a group of vamps who looked like they were fresh out of their graves. Your breath came in sharp gasps, your knuckles white from the grip you had on a wooden stake. You were holding your ground, but Spike could see the exhaustion in your eyes, the way your hands trembled ever so slightly. His fists clenched, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. Those vamps didn’t know who they were dealing with—either you or him. But they’d learn soon enough.

“Oi,” Spike snarled, his voice dripping with menace as he positioned himself between you and the vamps. “You lot picked the wrong night to mess with my friend.”

The vamps hesitated, clearly weighing their odds. Spike didn’t give them the chance to decide. He lunged at the nearest one the fight a blur of fists, fangs, and dust as he tore through the group with ruthless efficiency. In a matter of moments, it was over. Spike stood over the last pile of dust. He turned to you, his expression softening ever so slightly as he took in your appearance.

“You alright, love?”