[Reviews - 26]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 1801 times

- Text Size +




Chapter 12
The wind whipped around the waterfront warehouses and factories. Drusilla and Spike finally made to the Thames River. They followed on the north side of the river all night, making their way further away from London Proper. Spike looked down at his watch on his wrist. They still had three hours to look for Buffy before the sun came up. Drusilla slowed Spike down with her insistence to talk to the pixies, but she did try to hurry along. She did not complain when her dress got muddy along the riverfront. Spike was a bit impressed at the change in his Sire. He never remembered her to be this concentrated on one task that wasn’t about death and blood.

They walked on the streets next to the river, concentrating on dilapidated buildings. The fresh rain from the night before wiped out any lingering scents of Buffy, making it hard for Spike to catch her scent, if she was being held nearby. Drusilla started to walk off the road, heading for a cemetery. Her dress was ruined, Spike noticed as he followed her. The wind sailed through the graveyard, rustling leaves.

He kept alert, turning around every time he heard a squirrel scurry past on their way to hoarding more acorns. After midnight and countless blocks that they walked, Drusilla started to zone out. Spike watched as her body started to sway in the wind. He really didn’t want to have to deal with one of her spells, but didn’t see anyway around it. “Drusilla, do you know where Buffy is?”

She moved her arms up in the air, dancing her fingers in the cool air. “Shh, my Spike, she’s close.” Spike stopped watching Drusilla sway in the wind. “Do you hear them, Spike?”

“Hear who, Dru?”

“The stars… they are talking.” She stopped abruptly and giggled. “They tell me their name. That one is Gilbert.” She pointed up to a bright star. “And that one is Edward. He’s the brightest of them all, my Spike.” She pointed across the sky to the full moon. Spike didn’t have the heart to tell her ‘Edward’ was not a star. “That’s Gilbert, and Gilbert, and Gilbert. Oh, there’s Gilbert.” Drusilla moved her finger, naming all the stars. Spike stood eyes to the heavens as she named them all Gilbert except for the moon, which was called Edward.

“Dru, what about Buffy?”

“Oh, Gilbert said he would help us.” Drusilla stopped pointing to the sky right as a squirrel past her. “Ah! Ugly rodent!” Her shriek could have woken the dead. Before Spike knew it, his arms were filled with Drusilla. She scurried up him like a cat in a tree, holding on for her unlife. “Bad rodent! Bad. Gilbert is going to strike you down, little one, and use your pelt to whip his behind. Liars, all of you. Spouting tales of triumph and victory. May blood pour over your souls for eternity.” Spike cringed at the imagery. He had definitely mellowed out these past few years. His patience for her antics had grown weary and he moved to put Drusilla down. “Oh no!” Drusilla shifted her weight causing Spike to loose his balance in the mud.

They fell down, Spike on bottom with Drusilla perched above him. “Bollocks!” Spike felt the mud seep into his gelled hair. Luckily his duster could be hosed off and it would be all right.

“Oh, Spike!” Drusilla shifted on top of him, now straddling his hips while she sat up. Still too stunned to figure out what was going on, Spike didn’t see her attack before it was too late. Her mouth swooped down, engulfing his own, bruising them as she sucked them into her mouth. Astonished, Spike pushed her away. Drusilla anticipated the move and held on tighter. “Don’t you see, my white knight? The sunshine isn’t for you.” Spike shook his head, grabbing the arms and wrenching them away, pushing her body away. She rolled to his side, her movements like silk. Spike stood up and looked at her, shaking his head. “Yes, you see it, Spike!” Spike stepped back denying her. “You do.” Drusilla stood up. “Gilbert told me so, he did. You belong to the dark, like me.” Spike felt energy from the earth rose up, encasing them in a cyclone of its own. Air crackling with magic and power, leaving the mortal world behind. Spike felt the tickling of his demon underneath his skin. The call of his sire, his Dark Princess, had woken a primordial essence inside him, leaving his mind confused.

“No, Dru, don’t.” He continued to step back, tripping over gnarled roots sticking up from the mud. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He felt his demon rage toward Drusilla. The unadulterated nature of his inner devil being ripped forward from his being. It tore Spike though his core. To be embraced again by her, for only a second, would calm the evilness inside him for years to come. “You said you wanted to help!” His voice pleaded with her.

Her eyes glowed wickedly, “My Spike. Don’t you see that you belong with me? We’re eternal!” He body flowed towards him like a snake, slithering and sliding towards him. It would be so easy for him to give into her. It would only take a moment to do and then everything would be clear again. “The stars say she’s lost, my love, give in.” She trapped him against a crypt, leaving nowhere for him to roam. Her delicate fingers twitched their way up his chest. “Give in to me, Spike. Be in my eyes, be in me.”

‘Her eyes are like glorious blood,’ Spike thought. He remembered when he would get lost in the swirls of color in her eyes, the beauty of carnage that they represented. Lost in the sensations that would overcome him when he looked into her eyes. The promise of violence and blood raining down from the rafters of their lair. Shaking his head, Spike blinked away the sheer contentment he was feeling. “Stop it. You’re not a bloody siren, calling me to my death. Already done that once, I suppose, but I’m not falling for it.”

“Spike.” Drusilla stepped away from him, giving him a bit of room. “You know you want it. Want me.”

“Wanted you, Dru. Wanted as in past tense. Just like you. I want Buffy. I love Buffy.”

Suddenly the air didn’t crackle around them. He saw the black seep back into her eyes, leaving only clarity and insight. “Gilbert said you are a good boy, Spike.”

“What are you talking about?” With his brows furrowed and his head cocked to one side, he watched Drusilla raise her arms to the sky and twirl around.

“He says,” she giggled at the night air on her skin, “you’ve passed. Your love is waiting for you and she is safe. The box will help, my dear.”

“Drusilla,” Spike warned and stepped forward, ready to snatch her from her little dance under the stars. Then they both stopped at the sound of a twig breaking. Then another. The suction of cheap boots in the mud slopping towards them alerted them into hiding.

Spike peered around the crypt they managed to run behind. And then there he was, trudging through the mud. Good old Captain Cardboard. Spike felt his face twitch into a smirk. He was alone and Spike was chipless. Brilliant place for Drusilla to have an episode.





You must login (register) to review.