The scent of blood was like perfume on the cool breeze. The Slayer’s blood. He could smell it in the air.
By the time he had found her, a group of demons had almost killed her.
He told himself he only saved her because he had to. No one was going to kill her but him. For some reason he didn’t think Spike or Dru had bought his explanation when he had arrived back at the mansion carrying an unconscious slayer.
This time he didn’t quite believe it himself. Although, hell would bust open before he would ever admit it.