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Author's Chapter Notes:
Ok so hear it is... number three . So tell me was I predictable or what?
Hope you guys are still enjoying this?
I'm still hoping to find a beta that can help fix, what has been pointed out to me by the mods at another site, as grammatical inconsistencies within the story.
In the mean time let me know, should I continue or is the story too hard to read. Should I stop until I find a beta?
You decide...
God, its dark up here. The redhead thought nervously, as she hesitantly followed the blue demon.

Illyria strode ahead, her purposeful steps illuminated by flashes of lightening from the storm that was raging out side.
She looked every inch the fierce warrior God King she claimed to be. All traces of the gentle Fred gone her countenance cold and determined.

Willows eyes scanned the hall she was following Illyria down, noticing that the old hotel seemed to have changed little since her last visit, same old dust and cobwebs and creepy sense of doom.
And Oh yeah, lets not forget the hotels last occupant, The higher power peace on Earth- that ate people. That particular unwelcome memory was accompanied by its very own rather large shiver.

With that disturbing thought Willow found herself walking just a little faster in an effort to catch up with her companion.

“Hey Ah Illyria” she ventured as she reached the demons side.
“Illyria?, is ok isn’t it?
You don’t want me to call you king Illyria do you?” she asked quizzically.
“Cos I could so do that but… what with the whole your female thing well… shouldn’t that make you a queen... Then again maybe your kind don’t have a sex”…
She gasped clapping a hand over her mouth in horror.
“Oh my God I didn’t mean that like it sounded. I-I don’t mean you don’t have sex cos of course you… um... ah... probably have lots of sex it’s just that I meant to say that your species…”

“We are here”, interrupted Illyria throwing her a cool glance.
“Cease your useless babbling and attend to the vampire.”

Blushing heavily under the blue demons regard Willow pushed open the door in front of her.

The room was darker than any place had the right to be.
At least that was her first thought as she strained her eyes trying to make out the details of the furniture or the occupant, unfortunately she could see nothing beyond the doorway.

Willow swallowed nervously. Glancing back over her shoulder she registered that Illyria had not moved from her earlier position, she was also reassured to see there was no obvious sign of threat in her body language.

“Illyria” she ventured timidly “Do you have some candles or a torch, some sort of light? You know us humans, where all about the seeing” she joked, more to lighten her own mood than the former God King’s.

Illyria reached towards Willows head and the witch found herself flinching back to avoid contact, her heart racing as she waited for the blow that never came.

Even as Illyria retracted her arm there was the sound of a switch being flipped and the room was suddenly lit by the soft glow of several table lamps.

Willow opened her mouth to ask about the whole, why was I stumbling around in the dark trying not to fall down the stairs or bark my shins on unseen furniture thing?, when she caught the blank look on the former God Kings face and thought better of it.

Shaking her head sheepishly she moved into the room, carefully searching for the vampire she had come to see.
When her eyes finally adjusted to the low lighting in the room, for a moment she wished for the blackness that had hidden his body from view.

Spike lay on one of the old hotel beds, the light from the bedside table illuminating the wreck his body had become.

Illyria had been right, there was blood... lots of it, it was pooled darkly on the mattress around him… but it was the burns that were the worst.

Spike’s left side was a charred mess, she could see the bones of his ribs gleaming wetly through the crusted charcoal of his skin, and most of his left arm seemed to be missing, the skin and muscle burnt completely away leaving only the naked blackened bone where his arm had been.

Willow gasped, tears stinging her eyes as she took in the ruin of the man on the bed before her.

Where he wasn’t burnt, and that she noted dizzily was not many places, there were large still bleeding wounds like something had taken more than few bites out of him.
His platinum hair was mostly gone, leaving only sparse patches of burnt silver stubble on his blackened scalp.
But it was his face that was the worst; his nose was gone as were his lips, burnt away so it looked to her shocked gaze like he was somehow… grinning at her discomfort.

She wasn’t close enough to see his eyes in any detail but she had an idea that they probably hadn’t fared much better.

“Oh my Goddess” she whispered, her stomach finally catching up with her eyes.

Stumbling from the room she found herself in the hall emptying the contents of said stomach, as tears flowed freely down her face.

After long minutes that seemed to stretch into hours she stopped crying and retching long enough to turn to the figure that still stood by the door, armour the colour of dried blood glistening in the ambient light cast by the lamps beyond.

“How is he even alive?” she gasped out… “What the hell did that to him...? Oh Gaia help him, how is he not dust?” Sobbing, Willow turned her anguished gaze on the impassive figure in the doorway.

Illyria cocked her head to the side studying Willow as though puzzled by her question.

“He is not alive… he is no more than an animated corpse, the demon inside gives the appearance of life, but he has never been alive Witch.
As to the reason he is not dust”… she paused to glance at the still figure on the bed.
“I believe it is as he would say… Sheer bloody mindedness.”

The phrase Willow recognised as a spikeism, but the voice it was delivered in was with out inflection, somehow giving the words a deeper meaning.

“What did this Illyria, and where are the others?” asked Willow her voice lost, the shock of Spike’s condition overwhelming her.
“You said Gunn and Wes are dead and Angel is missing but what about Lorne and…”
About to say Fred, she realised once again who she was speaking to. It was only reflex that had made her ask, something to fill her mind and mouth, anything to avoid what lay in that room only meters away.

Of course Fred was right here standing In front of her, or at least Fred’s body was.
She studied the body of the woman in question, this time using her magical senses and not her libido.

The armour that she had noted earlier; was probably part of the demon she realised, rather than just a covering.
The hair and eyes that were such a vivid blue seemed to crackle with a low level electricity that would be unseen by the normal human eye.
Some sort of protective shield she was betting, like the armour but not as cumbersome.

Illyria at first glance seemed to be untouched by whatever it was that had so decimated Angel’s crew but as Willow studied the former God King closely she could see traces of a darker blue liquid, and splashes of what looked to her like human blood.
There was something in her face as well; something in her stance that Willow knew instinctively was not normally present in the God Kings demeanour.

Her expression was that of someone trying very hard to keep from screaming.

Willow looked deep into her alien eyes and yes... there, hidden by the harsh stare, she thought she could detect traces of the grief and panic that she had heard on the phone earlier.

Willow knew that this wasn’t Fred, and the thing inside her friends form had probably stolen the body it resided in, but a part of her still couldn’t stop the urge welling up inside, the one that had her wanting to reach out and comfort this being who was so obviously in pain.

“Illyria it’s ok… you don’t have to tell me, it can wait” she offered gently, before moving forward and placing her hand on the demon’s arm, not even stopping to wonder if Illyria would allow the familiarity.

“You are right, Spike is here and he needs my help” she paused, squaring her shoulders before removing her hand from the others arm.
Turning to face the room, her voice and face full of her famous resolve she stated flatly.
“Nothing else matters. This is about Spike… anything else can wait”.

With those words Willow took a deep breath and re-entered the room to access what, if anything she could do for the horrifically damaged vampire.

Behind her Illyria’s eyes closed briefly her shoulders relaxing, letting go for the moment the tight control she had been maintaining over her form and emotions.

Fred’s memories of Willow bombarded the blue demon, the already confused God feeling yet another surge of emotion alien to her… gratitude.



See authors note.





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