Author's Chapter Notes:
Hey, guys, here's chapter 18, finally! Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you all!
Chapter 18: Truths I Wish Were Lies.

Previously: We took a break from the Tierre/Buffy angst-fest to visit Montana, where the other heroes have arrived with the intention of rescuing Yesha. Once there, Faith and her team meet Tierre’s team…possibly the only people on earth that he truly trusts. Yesha finds out about Maggie’s mysterious illness and provides brief relief for the pain. The Vashkans turn against Faith, Wesley and the other Slayers and go up against Tierre’s team. Unfortunately, they piss off Ryan Alvarez – who shares the same endearing qualities as an enraged mother bear’s whose cubs are threatened. After a brief tussle, the fight is brought under Maggie’s control. She brings her surprise guests inside her home, unaware that outside, danger is creeping in.

***

Elsa and Andrew were nowhere to be found. According to Drusilla, they’d left the house when the fight started.

“Hope I didn’t traumatize them for life.” Tierre grumbled.

Drusilla smiled at him, “I doubt it. Didn’t Andrew help the Scoobies in the fight against The First? I suppose he’s tougher than he looks. He’s quite an interesting little character.”

Tierre didn’t reply. Drusilla took her time preparing the sandwich she’d boasted to him about. She had learned, during the brief friendship they shared and kept secret from Scarlet, that he loved cheese. And she loved pampering him. She didn’t get many opportunities to do that. Even during their tragically short-lived days as friends a few years ago, she had been careful not to go overboard with the pampering, much as she wanted to. Tierre had been young, and hopelessly romantic. He’d had a small crush on her, which could have easily grown into something more serious. But as much as she wanted to be more than his friend then, she knew that hadn’t been meant to be.

Tierre watched Drusilla’s careful preparations with a small smile. “Maggie hates housework. She sucks at most of them. Do you know that she has to have her laundry sent out? She’s such a slob. At least she’s learned how to cook. She and Nelson would make a frightening pair. But you…you’re not like them.”

Dru laughed, “It’s a gift, I think. Anyhow, no two women are alike.”

“Tell me about it. Even I, with my limited experience, know that.” Tierre scrunched his nose in self-deprecation.

“I heard what Angel said. He had no right to say those things about you, Tierre. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“What is it that you wanted to talk to me about?”

He was changing the subject, and for now, Dru let him. Angel no longer had as much power to hurt Tierre now…not like he used to, but the vampiress could sense the young man’s upset. He had been clearly humiliated, not because of Angel’s lies, or because Angel had humiliated him before, but because, this time, the Slayer had been there to hear them.

Jealousy surged inside Drusilla like a vindictive centipede, crawling around her marrow. When she had been a human, she had never been jealous. She had a handsome fiancé who had been adored by many of her peers, but she had never been jealous. Angel and Darla had never sparked anything more than her natural competitiveness and her unnatural possessiveness. Angel and Buffy had sickened her, but hadn’t made her feel anything more than that.

But when it had been Spike that Buffy had touched…Dru had felt like any woman in love whose beloved had betrayed her. Despite the fact that she herself had cheated on him on numerous occasions, Spike had never been unfaithful to her, and Dru had been secure in that. Until that awful Slayer with the thin, mouse-like face came along. When the foundations of Spike’s eternal love had been shaken by a pair of too-big eyes and a bony, underdeveloped body, Drusilla had then had her first taste of true insecurity. Was she not beautiful to him anymore? Has her insanity become too much for him to endure? Was the thrall in their relationship gone for good? Jealousy had turned Dru bitter, petty and yes, uncertain about herself. Perhaps she should color her hair blonde. Maybe it was high time she got rid of her long dresses and replaced them with revealing clothes.

But her insecurity hadn’t lasted. In the end, Drusilla realized that there were no changes she could impose upon herself that would make Spike stay by her side, because he was the one who had changed. He had fallen in love with someone else without even knowing it.

If it hadn’t been for that cursed Slayer, Drusilla would never have known just how much she truly loved Spike, and just how far she was willing to go for him. In one selfless act, she forced her lover to leave her side. She knew Spike would have never been able to do it for himself. He was too honourable for that. If she had let him stay, his love for her would eventually fade, but still he would not leave. And the two of them would have only been miserable.

And Drusilla could never let that happen. It was far better that she let him think she didn’t love him anymore. It was better if he thought there was nothing for him in her embrace, anymore. It was better if she broke his heart clean.

It had been her idea. She had left first. But still she got jealous and possessive of Tierre anyway.

And she wasn’t going to apologize for that. So there.

“Dru?” Tierre prodded.

She focused on him once more and tried not to think of what he and the Slayer may have been doing to pass the time until she and Angel arrived, “I had a premonition,” she began. She glanced down at her teacup, noticed that the hand holding it was trembling, and quickly placed the cup on the table.

“Let me guess…you saw me dead.”

“If it were as simple as that, I wouldn’t have bothered trying to work with Angel and his bloody cohorts!”

Tierre showed no outward reaction, but inside, he was shocked at Drusilla’s outburst. She stared at him for a second longer, before she raised a trembling hand to cover her lips. She turned her head away.

Tierre didn’t know what to say. So he kept quiet.

“I’ve saved you from death before. Heavens, even Angel had done his part in saving your life. And you do fine beating Death in your regular chess games without help from anyone. If it were as familiar as that, believe me, I wouldn’t have shown myself to you.” Drusilla said at last.

“You find my presence so repulsive?” Tierre asked sarcastically. Inside, he winced at his own lack of control in concealing his insecurity, but he couldn’t help it. This house, the people in it, the revelations of tonight…those things combined were not conducive to the successful maintenance of his legendary cool. At Dru’s hurt look, he waved a dismissive hand, “No, forget I said that. It’s unimportant.”

Drusilla leaned towards him, “Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” she said, with such intensity, that for one second, Tierre believed every word.

“Dru…” he began.

“If I’d had a choice in the matter, I never would’ve left. You have to believe that.”

“Dru…”

“I had my reasons. I’ll tell you one day, I promise. But not now, Tierre.”

“Dru,” much to Drusilla’s astonishment, Tierre actually caught her fluttering hands, stilling them in his strong grip. Her eyes flew to his, and she could see herself reflected in them. No mirror could grant her that, but in Spike’s eyes―Tierre’s eyes― she could always find herself.

“What?” she whispered.

“Let it go.”

Dru felt as though he’d stabbed her in the heart, “No…”

“I really don’t want to relive that time. I’m sorry if I gave you such a hard time when I first saw you again, but you caught me off guard.”

“Because I showed up? You would have preferred never seeing me again?”

“Right now, the answer to that is yes.”

Tears rolled down Dru’s cheeks, “You hate me. You can never forgive me.”

Tierre reached up and brushed the tears from her face with his thumbs. There had been too many crying women with him tonight. He had made them cry. Tierre felt lower than a cockroach and wished someone would show up and crush him beneath their feet. Anyone would do, with the exceptions of Angel and Logan. Not even Drusilla deserved to be hurt. Tierre recognized that he would probably always resent her for abandoning him when he needed her the most, but years had passed and the pain had faded. To use that episode in their shared history as an excuse to make her feel shamed was just cruel. Something Angel might do. “I don’t hate you. I…don’t think I can do that. Please, Dru. Please understand.”

Shame hit Drusilla square in the chest, effectively staunching her tears. Tierre had nothing to apologize to her for. He should never have to plead with her for her understanding. Whatever he may give her now, she deserved. She shouldn’t have left. She should’ve been stronger, braver.

She should’ve fought for Tierre.

She shouldn’t have let Maria Scarletta win.

She forced her lips to curve into a watery smile. Why did she always smile when her insides felt like they were being scraped raw and dipped in salt? “Look at me. I’m such a crybaby.”

“That’s part of your charm.” Tierre’s smile was equally crooked, “Feel better?”

Drusilla took advantage of the fact that he was still holding her hand and brought one of his hands to her lips to steal a quick kiss, “Now I do.” She told him, “Now, about that premonition.”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“Do you remember the one I had years ago? When you had first joined Scarlet?”

“You said you dreamed of me swimming in an ocean and that there was a monster beneath the surface.”

“That’s the one. But this new one is different. This time, I saw you in a desert and there was blood everywhere. Everywhere, Tierre.” Drusilla’s tone of voice was odd. She was a vampire, and yet when she spoke of the blood, it was clear that she feared it, “It was raining blood. And then, the earth opened. And it had teeth.”

“Did it?” Tierre leaned back in his seat, away from Dru. He looked thoughtful, “What else did you see?”

“Shadows. An army of them. But I couldn’t identify who they were.”

“What else?”

“It felt like I was standing on glass, as though the entire world was made of glass, and it was breaking. All around me cracks spread like obscene spider webs and shards fell like crystal petals.” Drusilla knew she was putting such a lyrical twist to her horrid dream, but she couldn’t help herself. If there was one thing that would keep Tierre’s attention on her, it was the way that she related her experiences so they had the feel of morbid poetry, “And I sensed that there was something else behind this world we’re living in. And it was going to be revealed.”

“When?”

“Soon. Very soon.”

“How?”

“Someone is going to do it. Someone is going to shatter the glass.”

“I suppose this is the part where you tell me who you suspect that ‘someone’ is.”

This was the hard part. Dru hesitated for a brief moment, before plunging in, “I think it’s Franco.”

Tierre stilled; his face expressionless.

Dru’s fingers crushed the soft material of her dress. She hated it when Tierre just shut down. It made it nearly impossible for her to know just how to proceed next, “I know how you feel about him―”

“And I know how you feel about him.” Tierre cut her off impatiently. He narrowed his clear, blue eyes, “You hate him. You’ve always been anxious to get rid of him.”

“And you know why!” Drusilla blared in anger. Why was Tierre so blind? Why did he so willingly turn his head away?

Well, actually, she knew why. There were enough men like Franco Scarletta, men who used wealth, power and influence to get whatever they wanted, however they wanted, whenever they wanted. These men thought nothing of murdering people, of destroying countless lives just to instill fear. And however cruel they may be to the victims punished with the forfeit of their existence, they were usually worse with their men.

Not so with Franco. The difference with him was that he was kind. He treated everyone like they were his family. He was helpful, generous, and he radiated charisma. Where others of his ilk demanded fear, Franco received respect. Where they were hated, Franco was loved. Where they needed money to keep their pawns by their sides, Franco’s people stayed out of loyalty.

In the game of control, of life and death, Franco had no peer. He was so much more insidious than anyone else of his ilk because he knew exactly how to manipulate the underlying humanity within each and every one of his people and he shamelessly used that to bind his people to him. They would willingly follow him to the gates of Hell and back. Just as he intended.

Tierre was no exception. Tierre, who had been treated like a hated, feared outcast from the time he was strong enough to walk on his own without Maggie’s help, had lived his short life before Scarlet in isolation and utter loneliness. Maggie loved him, but she could never know what it was truly like for him. Other than her, what few people Tierre had dared to trust had betrayed him. Angel, who was closest to where Tierre lived, had refused him and had instead allowed the sibilant whispers of cruelty and jealousy to guide him in crossing the line between being Tierre’s antagonistic mentor, to Tierre’s brutal, would-be murderer. And Drusilla…had left, when she’d promised she never would.

Tierre was starved for acceptance and belonging. And he had found both in Scarlet. Drusilla couldn’t blame him if his first instinct was to protect his surrogate ‘family’. But that didn’t mean she was going to give up on him.

“I’ve interpreted my dreams. The first one was fairly simple. The ocean you were swimming in is this world you move in now, with its wealth and intrigue. The world you entered once you joined Scarlet. The monster beneath the surface is Franco.”

Tierre shoved back his chair and stood up, “Enough of this!”

Dru stood up too, “You can’t deny that, Tierre. How many secret wars have you fought in his name?”

“We fought the enemy families, Dru. They simply got what they deserved.”

“And the Vashkans? Did they get what they deserved?”

“That was Mercury’s doing, not Franco’s. If you must know, he’s punished them―”

“No, Tierre. You’re blind. Long before your time, Franco has caused momentous pain to innocent people just to get to where he is now. In the 1980’s, he ruined the reputation of an entire group of companies who refused to merge with Scarletta Enterprises, putting hundreds of employees out of work. He was behind the assassination of his business rivals and that reporter who had tried to do an expose on the Scarletta clan.”

Tierre shook his head, “You really did your homework. But you can’t prove that any of that is true.”

“No, I can’t.” Dru refused to be cowed, “But I do know that the Vashkans are not the first race he had attacked just so he could get his hands on a valuable treasure. The skinwalkers in South Asia possessed the magical skin of a Fecunshi, a sorcerer who can freely walk inside an inferno and come out unscathed, or go underwater and not fear drowning, nor shark attacks. Franco wanted that skin. He sent you, Ivo, and Toya to get it. Do you remember what happened then?”

Tierre swallowed past the lump in his throat. His eyes burned, “Toya died because he chose to follow me when I decided to attack the skinwalkers when I thought they were sleeping. I got him killed. Not Franco.”

“It doesn’t matter what your decisions would’ve been that time, Tierre. Your men would still have died, and all because Franco wanted that blasted skin. He didn’t even need it. He just wanted it. And even when it had gotten Toya killed, even when it nearly cost you your sanity, he still took the skin.”

“Stop it now, Dru.”

“How do you know he didn’t have Maria killed?”

Tierre looked up at her sharply at that. The gold in his blue eyes flickered, before they started to steadily glow. It was eerie. It was as though there was a fire burning inside of him. Such a cold fire.

Thunder rumbled ominously. She could feel the vibrations of the sound move her.

Wait a minute.

Thunder?

There was no thunder. And since the windows in the kitchen were closed, there was no way for a breeze to enter. But she still felt slender fingers of subzero cold climb up her bare legs.

Drusilla looked up at Tierre and suddenly realized that she had gone too far. Oh, dear Lord, somebody help me!

Tierre strode towards her. He reached out and grabbed her arm, “How dare you!” the gold dominated the blue in his eyes now, a sure symptom of his anger, “You have no right to say that! You have no right to even think it!”

Drusilla was afraid. Mortally afraid. She was looking at the man no one had ever seen before and lived to tell the tale. This was Tierre, but she had never seen this side of him before. He’d never lost control with her before.

If he did now, she was certain nothing would be left of her. Not even dust motes.

Drusilla screwed up her courage. He was the only one in this world she loved. Everything she did now was for him. If that included her death, then so be it, “He didn’t want the two of you to be together. He disapproved of your love! Nobody walks out on family, Tierre! Isn’t that what he always says? And I know the two of you left Scarlet behind. I know you chose to be with each other and you turned your backs on Scarlet because of it! You disobeyed him! You betrayed him!”

Long fingers nearly crushed Dru’s bones into fine powder. She gritted her teeth against that pain. And then, she gradually became aware of the fact that the wound on her shoulder was knitting itself closed. Once the skin became intact, it opened. Again.

Tears dribbled down Dru’s cheeks. Her pain was so acute, she couldn’t even scream.

Tierre didn’t seem to be aware of what he was doing. Of what his anger was causing, “Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I’m blind? I know he’s capable of evil! I’ve carried out my share of his orders! But if there’s one thing I will not tolerate it’s the accusation that he had his own daughter killed. He loved her. He loved his children. Franco did not murder Maria!”

Drusilla smiled through her tears, “If you’re so sure of that, then why are you still here? There was no possible way for the Slayer to stop you if you wanted to leave. But you stayed. Why, Tierre?”

This time, it was Tierre who smiled. He pulled Drusilla close, so close that their lips almost touched, “You and your infinite knowledge,” he whispered seductively, “And you don’t know why I stay?”

“My knowledge is finite,” Dru whispered back , “I still don’t know how to win you back.”

“Trust me, Dru. You don’t want me back.”


~*~*~*~


Buffy had holed herself up in Tierre’s room, lying back on the bed he had never slept in, and fiddling with the clothes he had never worn. She wished she were a fly so she can eavesdrop on Dru and Tierre’s ‘conversation’.

Conversation, hah! She probably jumped him once she got him alone! The two of them are probably having wild, noisy sex right about now!

Buffy snuggled deeper against the huge, fluffy pillows and sighed. The thought of Dru putting just one, well-manicured hand on Tierre should’ve been enough to send Buffy straight to the two of them, raving like a lunatic while forcibly stuffing Tierre inside her pocket where no other woman could lay eyes on him. Except for Willow, maybe, because she was gay, and, well, Dawn because she had a right to know Tierre.

But the Slayer didn’t move. She stayed right where she was, safe in the knowledge that Tierre wouldn’t even think that way about any woman. Not after what he and Buffy had shared. Tierre was Spike, whether he knew it or not, and Spike was faithful.

Buffy trusted him.

She wiggled her toes against the soft sheets and wondered if Tierre’s real bed was just as comfy. Did his room have lots of pictures of friends and family, taken during times when he was relaxed and enjoying himself? Did it have the stuff he liked best like a soccer ball, or a pile of c.d.’s of those heinous punk rock bands he worshipped? Maybe his dirty laundry was strewn all over the place because he didn’t know of the existence of hampers.

Buffy wanted to believe Tierre had something as blessedly ordinary as a chaotic room, but she couldn’t. His room was probably furnished in the best money could buy, and completely devoid of comfort.

If only I had found you first, she thought morosely. Her mind kept flashing to that picture of Toya and Tierre that Angel had shown her. Once upon a time, Tierre had been just another guy who could smile and skip training so he can watch a concert.

It was torture to think of what might have been, but Buffy couldn’t help herself. She imagined what it would’ve been like if she and Tierre had met each other first, before Scarlet or Angel had ever put in an appearance. It didn’t matter to Buffy if Tierre didn’t have any memories. She would have gladly helped him regain them. She would tell him he was a hero; that he was the most amazing person she’d ever known. She’d help him rediscover his lost identity step by step, and along the way, she’d show him all the good things in life that he had won for her with his life down in the caves. She’d give him all the simple joys he so enjoyed. If he liked concerts, she’d take him to them no matter where they were being held. He apparently loved surfing; hell, she’d learn to conquer the waves just for him. She’d cook all his favorite dishes, like those flowering onion stuff he couldn’t stop crowing about; hmm…cooking lessons might be a good idea. She’d even sit through a Passions marathon with him, if he was still into that.

But most of all, Buffy would’ve loved to teach Tierre all the things that he had taught her. How to love unconditionally. How to fight with everything that you have for those you care about the most. How to defy expectation, to conquer despair, to know yourself, to be generous, kind, loyal, brave and strong even when the world is about to end.

How to forgive and let wounds heal.

And, yes, how to make the perfect cup of hot chocolate with just the right amount of little white marshmallows.

He didn’t have to realize that he was in love with her immediately. Buffy would be happy to earn his love all over again. But he would definitely know that she loved him. She’d tell him and show him everyday. She’d smother him with it until he begged her to stop, or slap a restraining order on her eager self.

That was the dream, anyway. The fantasy.

But here, in her reality, Tierre had existed for four long years without her. Four hard years. He could’ve been with her for all those years, instead of being hunted by assassins, or being abandoned by Dru, or betrayed by Angel. When he had lost Toya, Buffy could’ve comforted him. He would never have had to work for Scarlet.

Or have meaningless sex with faceless and wholly unworthy women.

Buffy wanted to hurl at the thought. Spike, with his romantic soul and his all-too-open heart, just wasn’t made to last in the game of cold affairs. Buffy had forced him to demean himself once upon a time, subjected him to that kind callousness. She had yanked him down to her level. But he had eventually struggled and had put meaning where she had insisted there was none, giving Buffy another excuse to ruthlessly push him away.

He wasn’t made for that. He was above that. But in this world he’d been thrust into, Spike ―passionate, pure, spirited Spike― had to put his emotions on ice. He had to be tough, cold and unfeeling. Made of stone. That was what ‘Tierre’ was for. An almost impenetrable armor.

Not her Spike. He wouldn’t last like this.

Buffy had to find a way to get him back before he was completely destroyed.

She sat up and began to devise a plan. She and her people couldn’t stay in New York, of course. Scarlet would find a way to get to them. Angel had his own resources, and those kept them safe for now, but the Scoobies would have to move soon. Buffy would have to convince the others to let her take Tierre to her home in San Francisco. Tierre had feelings for her, Buffy was sure of that. She wanted desperately to nurture those feelings to full bloom. What better place to do that than in her Scarlet-free sanctuary? Buffy wondered if it would be too forward to tell Tierre he could sleep in her room ( Dawn would be coming home for the summer any week now. And if she wasn’t, well, Tierre didn’t have to know that. ) But, no, he’d see right through her ruse and to the less-noble-parts of her agenda.

Buffy was in the middle of thinking up what she would say to her friends when the sensation hit her. It felt like an earthquake, but a really mild one. Intensity two, maybe, the kind only hypersensitive people, like Slayers, for instance, would notice immediately.

But it wasn’t an earthquake. No earthquake had ever brought her this kind of tightening in her chest. It felt like…like…

Buffy was off the bed like a shot. She ran out of the bedroom and into the hallway and nearly crashed against Angel, who was also in a hurry. With only a mumbled ‘sorry’, the Slayer sped past Angel and careened down the stairs.

“Buffy! Buffy, wait, slow down!” Angel yelled behind her, but Buffy was beyond hearing him.

Her bare feet touched the ground floor and Buffy gasped. Something was definitely wrong here! The floor was freezing! Ignoring the possibility of frost bite, Buffy went towards the kitchen, where she felt Tierre’s presence was strongest.

“Tierre!” she cried, when she saw his back. She ran straight for him.

The next thing she knew, she was thrown back, away from Tierre, to slam against the wall of the hallway outside the kitchen. Buffy fell to the floor, the air knocked from her, and for a few seconds, she saw nothing but black.

“Buffy, are you okay?” Angel had skidded next to her and carefully helped the Slayer to sit up. Buffy gasped in air, trying to revive her flattened lungs.

“I-I think so,” she wheezed, “God, what happened?”

When she stopped seeing two of everything, Buffy re-focused on Tierre. He still had his back to them, but Buffy could see Drusilla now, and the vampiress had wide, pained eyes and was clutching her injured shoulder.

Could Tierre have hurt Dru? Hit her where her flesh had already been torn? It didn’t seem possible.

And what was that that had hit Buffy? It almost seemed as though there was a barrier between her and Tierre. But the barrier had only materialized when she had run for Tierre. It had then gathered force and repelled her.

That’s what it had felt like, anyway.

Buffy hadn’t realized that she’d spoken out loud until Angel said, “It is a barrier. He’s shutting out everyone.”

“He can do that?”

“Probably.”

“Huh?”

“Tierre has several powers, and we don’t know what most of them are. I doubt even Tierre knows,” Angel was talking in a rush, obviously thinking up ways to get past the barrier, “But Wesley had this theory once, I’m not sure that he’s ever proven it, that Tierre has the ability to manifest emotion.”

Buffy blinked slowly, “Could you repeat that?”

“He can manifest emotion. It can come out like that earthquake we felt. The freezing floor? That’s not your imagination, that’s Tierre. I guess he’s feeling something and right now, he’s struggling to control it.”

“He’s angry,” Buffy said softly, getting to her feet. Her eyes widened and tears filled them, “And, oh, god, he’s so upset!” her hand went to her heart. It hurt so bad.

Angel’s jaw locked, “Maria,” he said in a low voice. And then something occurred to him, “You feel what he’s feeling?” he demanded from Buffy.

“Who’s Maria?” Buffy asked.


~*~*~*~


Blood. Dru’s blood.

The sight of the crimson stain seeping past Dru’s fingers brought Tierre back to himself. Never once had he ever drawn blood from her. He couldn’t remember ever wanting to.

Spike would have never treated her with such cruelty.

Tierre suddenly felt disgusted with himself. In one night, he had made both of Spike’s women cry, under Angel’s roof. It had to be some kind of record.

He reached for Dru again. He wanted to kill himself when she reflexively flinched from him, but he didn’t lower his hand. He waited for her to decide whether or not she’d let him touch her ever again.

He could hardly believe it when she stepped in close to him.

Tierre lifted his grotesque, vile hand and laid it on top of Dru’s shoulder. And then he used the power he swore he would never use again when it had failed to heal neither Maggie nor Maria. Even though he loved them both. More than life.

He focused the energy inside him that had been created from the very few drops of goodness he’d been blessed with and let it pour over Drusilla’s open wound. He could feel his strength leaving him at an alarming rate. But it worked. Dru’s wound closed.

Tierre healed her.

The healing powers of the Earth, the force behind the mystery of why trees would eventually grow back even after a deluge, or how rain finds its way into the desert. How life continues, how its cycle never ends.

Tierre didn’t understand it, but he knew enough to know he was connected to it far better than any other being on earth. Right now, he heard the things he’d stopped hearing so long ago, after Scarlet had helped him close his rampaging abilities before they drove him insane.

He heard the Earth. Flowing water, sifting leaves, the heartbeat of every unborn child in the world. It thrummed inside him, making his heart go faster than it was supposed to.

Tierre looked at Dru. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered sincerely.

But before he faded away, it was another woman’s name he wanted to say.


TBC





You must login (register) to review.