[Reviews - 24]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2523 times

- Text Size +




Author's Chapter Notes:
Italics=internal monologue or telepathic conversations between Spike and Buffy.

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far! :)
--

Althea awoke, her entire body pulsing. The metaphysical connection she had always felt for all of her family was gone. She could now only feel three entities, two dead…one very much alive. She could hear Colette’s blood whipping through her veins, her heart beating softly and her airy breath falling from her lips. Althea could sense the coldness of the other two entities, and, feeling instinctively drawn to one, exited her room, almost knocking a jar of blood over in the process.

Realizing how famished she was, and how full and rich the scent emanating from the jar was, even if it was cold, Althea released her inhibitions and gulped the half-pint of pig’s blood down. Wiping the stains from the sides of her mouth, Althea composed herself, and walked silently into Angelus’ room. Although she was used to the heightened awareness that came from being the immortal progeny of a mating between vampire and Slayer, Althea could never have imagined the world would feel like this. Though the room was pitch black, Althea could see as clearly as she had in the daylight. She could see Angelus’ sculpted bulk lying beneath a blood and sweat-stained sheet, his arm wrapped around Drusilla’s nude form. A pang of jealousy shot through her and Althea began to growl deep in her, until she realized that both Angelus and Drusilla were staring at her, their yellow eyes gleaming. Drusilla’s face shifted back into human form as she clapped her hands merrily.

“Is she our new Darla,” Drusilla asked in her sing-songy manner.

“We’ll see,” Angelus replied.

“Her hair is much too coarse. I don’t like it. All wrong she is. Not like our Darla was. Filled with the Slayer this one is. Have to change her we do.”

“I already did that Dru. But let’s see what else we can fill her with….”

Angelus and Drusilla grabbed Althea’s arms, pulling her down into the bed with them. Drusilla looked up when a small sniffle came from the doorway. Pushing Althea and Angelus out of the way, Drusilla scooped Colette up and covered her eyes. She shut the door behind her, muting most of Althea’s screams, before carrying Colette into the living room and sitting down, setting Colette on her knee.

“What happened to Althea grandmummy? She looks sad and pale, like Papa does when he doesn’t have his tomato soup…and why is she screaming? Is she okay?”

Drusilla pet Colette’s head.

“Why are you awake, moppet?”

Colette sniffled again.

“My heart felt funny and I worried Althea got hurted. I always know when she’s sad and it makes me sad…I can’t feel her anymore…does that mean she isn’t sad anymore?”

“Special moppet. Where’s Miss Edith? Did she keep those nasty pixies away?”

Colette nodded.

“I gave her some more tea…she said she needed her tea, and then she went back to sleep.”

“You’re taking good care of Miss Edith aren’t you moppet? The faeries like when little girls are good. Lovely lovely moppet!”

“Do you like me grandmummy? I like you…and Miss Edith! She tells me things, you know. Special, secret things, but I can’t always hear her. She speaks so quietly! But she says you know them too, so I can ask you.”

“That’s because the faeries like you moppet. And I love my little grandbaby. Just like me you’ll be. But you won’t have the stars talking to you all the time. That’s what Miss Edith says.”

Drusilla smiled, her yellow eyes flashing slightly with a happiness and clarity that had never passed through her eyes, as Colette threw her arms around her neck.

“Dru…let her go.”

Drusilla looked up in shock before she was knocked to the floor, and Colette was ripped from her arms. Colette broke free of their strong hands and ran to Drusilla’s side, her hand on her hip and her pout protruding. She held her small hand out to Drusilla, who took it and sat up, stunned. Colette frowned.

“Papa! Don’t hurt grandmummy!”

--



--An Hour Earlier--

The rumble of the three cars fell to a hush as they almost simultaneously parked and turned off their engines. Spike and Buffy climbed out of Spike’s black Lamborghini. The manual Spyder 2006 car was one of Spike’s few luxurious purchases, and the one that he rarely used.

“It’s a classic,” he had told her.

She retorted with, “It’s a liability.”

The car had remained in their garage for five years before this morning. Buffy would never admit it, but she was glad to have a car that could get them to Colette at a possible 193mph, though when Spike had hit 90mph, Buffy slapped him and told him to drive slower. No use getting to Colette in pieces or paralyzed.

The two other cars, classic Jaguars, another black vehicle and a custom-painted hot pink convertible parked next to Spike’s Lamborghini. Tara, Conrad, Rupert, and William climbed out of the black vehicle. Tara had teased the three men incessantly throughout their drive about their inability to embrace their feminine sides, after they had all refused to sit anywhere near Buffy’s pink convertible. As it was, Joyce, and Roxanne hadn’t enjoyed the Barbie-pink vehicle either, although the extremely feminine Anya had hinted to her mother that after they saved Colette, she was planning on stealing the pink Jaguar. Buffy cracked one of the first smiles she had in days before they left the manor.

Parking about a half a mile away from Angelus’ hideout, Buffy, Spike and their brood walked toward the decrepit house in frightened anticipation.

“I can feel Colette in that house, Spike.”

“So can I, pet…and Drusilla and Angelus.”

“There’s something else in there Spike.”

“I know…what d’you think it is love?”

“I don’t know…but I think I’m ready to find out…and kill it.”

Spike kicked the door open and the group spread out throughout the house, searching not only for Colette, Althea, Drusilla and Angelus, but for answers. As Spike burst through the chipped, white doorway into the living room, he saw Drusilla’s yellow eyes flash as Colette grasped onto her.

"Oh God, Dru! Don’t bite her!”

Grabbing the only projectile close to him, Spike threw a vase at Drusilla’s skull, knocking her over as Conrad grabbed Colette out of her arms. Colette slapped Conrad’s hands from her, and ran to Drusilla. She turned, and frowned at her father.

"Gods, with that pout she looks just like Buffy.”

“Papa! Don’t hurt grandmummy!”

"Grandmummy?”


--





You must login (register) to review.