“Nightmares continue to torment me, and I cannot begin to understand their source. Ever since Elizabeth came into my life, they’ve grown so intense, so real…There’s a recurring one, and in it my fingers are stained with the blood of thousands. I see a thousand faces, screaming, begging, pleading. Sometimes she’s among them, crying for me to come back. I think I killed them…I dreamt of killing them. Always, I wake sobbing with the chilling memory of those that suffered…But the truly horrifying part of it is…in the dream, I don’t care.”
~From the diary of William Wells; December 9th, 1685
~*~
In a breath, it was on them. During those few confused seconds, time seemed a jumbled mess. First it passed slowly, as if treading through sludge, and then more rapidly than the flickering of an eye. Elizabeth found herself stumbling uselessly to the ground after taking a powerful blow—no, not her, William. The thing struck William, but the aftershock sent Elizabeth flying. She watched helplessly as he tried to fight, but his efforts were in vain. The beast—the demon, could not be harmed. All William could do was attempt to dodge the impact of its giant fists. The earth shook with the thud of its footfall, and the air surrounding them heated under the hot furnace of its breath. It hissed and snorted as it effortlessly batted William about like a cat playing with a ball of yarn. Can’t fight. We have to run. Will kill us both. But the thing blocked their only escape back into the forest toward the cabin. Precious seconds leapt forward once more. She felt William’s grip on her arm, hauling her to her feet, and he pulled her after him as they ran. Pure adrenaline fueled them onward. Elizabeth knew he was hurt, but still he charged onward, and she struggled to keep up. They fled across the wasteland, through the fog, until they finally met a cover of trees on the opposite end. The pounding of the demon’s feet thundered behind them as they sprinted on.
“Barn,” William choked, “Can get there this way. Gotta get over the threshold. It can’t cross.”
“But it’s not a vampire!” she panted.
“Worth a try. Keep goin’.”
Elizabeth’s chest burned with the searing iciness of the air she gulped into her lungs. But somehow her feet carried her on; and when William stumbled, she dragged him along with her. White flurries swirled through the air, carried by the wind, and settled on the freezing earth. She couldn’t remember when it had started snowing; but the flakes abruptly grew dense and thick, obscuring her vision further and settling in her hair to make it fall damp and limp across her forehead. The thundering steps grew closer as looming trees snapped and collapsed in their wake. At least the demon had a disadvantage due to its sheer size alone—it was unable to navigate the narrow paths through the trees without difficulty.
Suddenly, she found the flowing stream beneath her feet, now carrying chunks of ice as it soaked the hem of her skirt. And then the barn—a vision sent to them straight from heaven. Thank you. Thank you, God. Their frantic bodies collided with the door, sending it crashing open. William slammed it behind them and immediately began dragging the trunks from the corner of the large room and heaving them against the closed door. Elizabeth helped without a word until everything that could possibly be piled against the barrier to the outside was set firmly in place. Instinctively, William and Elizabeth backed up into the center of the pitch-dark room, waiting. They didn’t have to wait long.
The beast pounded at the door until the fragile wood shook in its frame, but the defenses held. The creature unleashed a furious snorting growl, so loud that it caused the entire structure of the barn to vibrate with its powerful volume. Then that hideous face with piercing crimson eyes appeared at the windows, its breath fogging the dirty glass. But it could not enter, despite its persistent attempts. And almost instantly, it vanished. In that moment, all of the strength and adrenaline left Elizabeth’s body in a rush, and she collapsed in an exhausted heap on the floor. She shook with sobs, weeping with greater violence than she had the day she found her mother dead. William’s arms came to encircle her tightly, and she clung to him as forcefully as he to her. He trembled just as much as she did.
When Elizabeth came back to herself, she remembered with immediate guilt and panic that he was hurt.
“William, where are you injured?” she asked frantically, at once running her hands over his chest and arms to see if she could feel broken bones or the spilling of blood.
“I’m not,” he whispered hoarsely, stilling her searching hands. “Are you—are you hurt?”
“No, I’m quite all right, but it hit you. There’s no way it couldn’t have—“
“Elizabeth. I’m not hurt…I think—I think something musta been lookin’ out for us tonight.”
“Oh my God. William…”
For several moments they held each other, rocking their bodies gently back and forth. The terror was simply overwhelming at first, but then came joy—the exquisite relief of being alive. He broke away first.
“It’s gonna get freezing real fast once our bodies cool down. We hafta start up a fire in here,” William declared, pulling the trunks away from the door.
“No! You can’t go out there!” she yelped, scrambling after him.
“I need to grab some brush and wood before it freezes…It’s—I’m pretty sure it’s gone. Just wait here.”
The next few minutes felt like a lifetime to Elizabeth until he finally returned with an armful of brush and twigs. After assembling a pile in the center of the space, he struck a match and lit the kindling. Soft, golden light bathed the room in long, flickering shadows.
“What was it, William?”
“I never seen anythin’ that strong. No simple demon, that’s for sure. I—I don’t think what we did caused it to show up. Coincidence I figure it.”
“Well what happened to it? It couldn’t have just disappeared. It’s probably out there waiting for us to leave!”
“No, I don’t think so. It’s gone. Disappeared. Scary thing is…I wonder what’s controlling it. Somethin’ musta called it.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he sighed, “I have absolutely no idea…Here, come sit by the fire. You need to get warmed up.”
She moved to sit beside him, and he took her hands, rubbing his palms over her icy fingers.
“I’m scared. I’ve never been so afraid in my whole life,” she said thickly.
He raised his hand to her cheek, gingerly tracing the wet paths her tears had streaked with his fingers.
“Me too…Nights like this, I really wish she was still here, y’know?” his voice cracked, and he quickly averted his eyes, dropping his hand.
“She—Susan could’ve fought that, whatever it was?” Elizabeth asked.
He shrugged. “I dunno. But she coulda handled herself. Better than I did. Christ, I just ran.”
“William, you had no choice. It was too powerful.”
“Fuckin’ coward’s what I am.”
“No! Look at me,” she took his chin in her palms, turning him to face her.
His eyes glistened, and she could see him struggling desperately to hold back.
“You can’t keep doing this, William. You have to stop getting hurt. Blaming yourself for everything terrible that happens isn’t going to change anything. You’re only human—you can’t take on the whole demon world yourself. You weren’t meant to. And I don’t give a damn how strong you are. One day your luck will run out. What you did tonight was smart—you must learn to recognize your limitations. You’re not—you’re not her. Susan was something more than human, and she was stronger than you are.”
“Well who’s gonna do it if I don’t?”
“The next Slayer. When one passes away, another is chosen, isn’t that right? You have to trust that she’s out there.”
He pushed away from her then, and she let him. Pulling his knees into his chest, he sat quietly for a long while, drawing deep into himself. When he spoke again, his voice was soft and steady.
“We fought that night. I don’ remember what started it. Somethin’ petty. She was always pissed at me cause I kept trying to protect her. We both said things we didn’t mean. She told me it wasn’t my fight. She said she couldn’t live with it if I got myself killed. So I let her go,” he said, laughing bitterly, “That’s a bloody slayer for you—it doesn’t matter who’s with her—who loves her. She’s always alone…That was the night she faced the Master. He’d been working on a stronghold—below the earth—where the field is now. Drew on the ancient power from beneath it. We were working on a way in, but that night—that was the first time he walked openly in the woods. Usually others killed for him…She wasn’t ready. But he found her, and she had no choice. He sent others after Rupert and me to keep us away…I heard her scream. It was so shrill, it made my blood run cold. She never screamed. God, I’d never seen her scared in her whole damn life…I ran, cause I just knew…
I left Rupert fighting a group of ‘em alone and ran after her. Got there almost in time too. But I tripped, see. My boot got caught and I fell. It was maybe a few seconds, but that was enough to be too late. I could see them then, I was so close. He tore her dress. She cried out to me…And then he—it was so quick. So easy. She’d been through everything, beat to hell and back, and all he had to do was twist her neck with a flick of his wrist. Less than half a second—the bones snapped. He dropped her. Looked at me and smiled, his mouth stained with red. Then he just left. Wandered into the night and never came back. And I let him go…I ran to her, cause I thought maybe…there’s always a chance. Her eyes were open, staring, and her face was twisted in pain. She died like that. I let her. When we lost Mum, I promised I’d take care of Susan. But I let her…”
Breaking down in uncontrollable sobs, he buried his head in his arms. Elizabeth had known he would tell her eventually. It was the reason she’d never asked—never brought it up. She rose and crossed to him, wrapping her arms around his curved body and resting her cheek against his back.
“It’s not your fault, William. I don’t think you were meant to stop it, even if you’d been there…She knows it’s not your fault.”
“What does it matter? She’s dead,” he replied caustically, his voice muffled.
“That doesn’t mean she’s gone forever. It doesn’t mean she’s lost to us—to you.”
Elizabeth shifted until she crouched in front of him, and gently, she pulled his arms away from his face. He allowed her to see him as tears continued to spill over.
“You’re not responsible…for her…or your mother or the people in Wethersfield. There will always be evil in this world, and you can’t always have someone to fight over it.”
Leaning in close, she kissed his forehead softly, then his damp cheeks, then the bridge of his nose.
“It’s not your fault,” she whispered, willing him to believe it, “You think you don’t deserve me, because you’ll never stop punishing yourself for not being good enough or strong enough or fast enough…for being human. But look at me—I love you. And you deserve to be loved.”
He began to respond to her kisses and light caresses. His hands rose to tangle in her hair.
“It’s not your fault,” she whispered, before his mouth fervently covered hers.
She knew her words fell short—that their truth and softness couldn’t entirely assuage the guilt and inadequacy he’d carried for so long. To be the brother of a slayer, living in the shadow of her great deeds, having the Council dismiss him as rubbish…a wash of sympathy and sadness overcame Elizabeth at the thought. She desperately needed to reach him—to connect with him, and since words could not convey it, she showed him in another manner.
While his lips, chapped from the cold, slid over hers, his breath warming her icy skin, she reached her hands behind her head and linked her fingers with his. At first he startled, clearly believing that her intent was to push him away. But she held onto his hands and moved them in front of her, caressing his fingers and palms—the cuts and rough calluses that came from long years of painful, physical labor and combat. Under her gentle touch, she watched his eyes shift from an expression of despair to one of relaxation, of peace. His jaw unclenched with the release of some tension. Bringing his hand to her lips, she pressed a light kiss just below his knuckles before placing his open palm against her pounding heart.
The next several minutes were sweet and languid with the slowness of dream time. His touch felt intoxicating—his hands brushed over her chest and dipped lower, rising over the swell of her breasts and down over the flat plane of her belly, all the while his mouth locked on hers in a heated kiss. Clothing became a painful frustration, a barrier to the buzz of contact and the smooth heat of skin. Elizabeth moved her hands between their bodies and pulled on the laces of her bodice. With his help, her chemise was gone, along with her skirts and petticoat. Deftly she tugged on his tunic, pulling it over his head. He slipped away briefly, leaving her by the fire, but returned quickly with an armful of quilts and a fleece blanket. After laying a quilt across the floor, he delicately pressed her back before covering her body with his and wrapping them both in fleece. She felt so deliciously warm and safe, and her senses hummed with pleasure—and need. His bare chest pressed against hers as his lips returned to her neck, her cheeks, her mouth. Reaching down, she untied his breeches and helped him swivel out of them until he kicked them off.
Her tongue dipped into the moist warmth of his mouth, and he allowed her to take the lead, to explore and decide their pace. Against her hip, she felt the heated column of his flesh stirring and hardening, so she reached down and boldly took him in her hand. He shuddered, moaning softly into her mouth.
Time stopped—it only existed there, in those blankets on the floor of an abandoned barn in the cold, darkened wilderness. They forgot everything else—the danger outside, Giles, guilt, propriety. With hands and lips they drove each other’s cries into desperate pitches. His touch was on her everywhere, inside her, causing hot liquid to melt from her. Then her legs were raised high, hooked behind his hips, and his hardness pulsed against her opening. Truthfully, she wasn’t afraid of it—the whispered rumors of pain and society’s severe punishment of this deed outside the religious boundaries of wedlock.
“Elizabeth,” he rasped in her ear, “I want you…need to be inside you.”
Feeling between them, she helped guide him. But he held back, shaking, afraid to sink fully into her tight, silken channel.
“I don’t want to hurt you, luv. Tell me if it hurts, and I’ll stop.”
“Doesn’t hurt,” she breathed.
He pushed in further, slowly, until his entire length slid in, and she cried out at the shock of it.
“Hurting you?” he asked fearfully, bracing himself to move back.
“Yes…No. Don’t stop. Please.”
Gradually he began a gentle, even rhythm, and Elizabeth countered his motions with her own body. With his hands and mouth and the thrusts of his hips, he kindled within her mewling cries of need. When his fingers moved to touch her above their joining, he quickly pulled them away.
“God, Elizabeth, I can’t—you’re bleeding.”
“Shhh I’m all right. Supposed to be this way. Don’t stop.”
And so he didn’t. As their bodies intertwined, he hit a hidden place inside that sent her over the edge, and she took him with her. Their cries intermingled as she felt the liquid heat of his release flooding deep inside.
“Love you,” he panted.
“Love you.”
She held him, her arms around his neck and her legs tangled with his as their breathing slowed.
“Am I too heavy?” he murmured.
“No. Just hold me.”
Sometime later, Elizabeth drifted off to sleep, warm and safe from the monsters outside.
--
When she woke, the barn was filled with soft, grey light. The fire had burned to cinders and disappeared, but Elizabeth did not feel a chill, curled pleasantly against William. She glanced up to see that outside the window, tree branches were coated in white frosting and glittering icicles. The soft dusting looked just as beautiful as she’d imagined and just as picturesque as paintings she’d seen depicting frozen countryside. Behind her, William still slept peacefully, his breaths soft and even. His body curved around her so that his forehead nestled into the nape of her neck, his longer legs splayed across hers. One of his arms draped over her protectively, with his hand resting against the warm hollow of her belly. Burrowing deeper into her cocoon of blankets and William, Elizabeth inhaled deeply and smiled. Despite everything—despite nearly being ripped to shreds by who-knows-what only the night before, she smiled now with a serene levity. Lying in his arms in the morning light made the darkness seem a world away. A sense of peace washed over her as she realized that never before had she had the opportunity to wake beside him.
Gently, Elizabeth rolled over onto her other side so that she could see him. Lightly with the tips of her fingers, she traced the contours of his face—the features she’d initially found so sharp and cold that she now found delicately handsome. His eyelids fluttered a bit at her touch, the long lashes flickering open slightly. When her finger abandoned the curved line of his cheek to softly trail down his nose, he reached a hand up to scratch, groggily batting her away. Before he opened his eyes, a lazy, contented smile played across his lips.
“You do sleep,” she said softly.
“From time to time,” he yawned
“You know, I was starting to doubt it, I’d seen so little evidence.”
“Still a bloody waste of time,” he murmured, slowly blinking his eyes open. The silver glow in the room gave them a more piercing hue of crystalline blue. He brought one hand up to tenderly stroke her hair back from her face.
“It snowed,” she remarked, tilting her chin toward the window.
“Ah bollocks. Figured it was more than flurries,” he mumbled.
“What? I think it looks lovely. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“Once you play in it for a day, the novelty starts to wear off, pet. We’ll be stuck up here in a pain-in-the arse blizzard till spring.”
“Trapped inside till spring? I see nothing wrong with that,” she replied coyly, stroking up his muscled calf with her ankle.
“Dirty girl…Gimme that lip,” he quipped, tracing his thumb over the soft curve of her swollen bottom lip before covering it with his mouth.
His hand abandoned her cheek to slide over the silhouette of her body before coming to rest on the swell of her hip. When his lips left hers, Elizabeth whimpered in protest; and she was surprised to find that his expression had shifted soberly.
“Elizabeth, last night, I…I know it couldn’t have been pleasant for you. Was I too… rough?”
“Not in the least. And it wasn’t—it wasn’t at all unpleasant.”
“You’re not sore at all?”
She blushed a little, her eyes dropping from his gaze. “No, I’m not sore, not really, but…I feel different somehow.”
“Bad different?” he asked worriedly, his features creased in concern.
“No, not bad, just changed. Older. I feel older. Well, I’m sure you can remember…”
“I sense a question in there somewhere,” he smirked.
“There’s still so much I don’t know about you, so I just…” she began hesitantly, “When did you first—do that? What was it like for you?”
He released a deep chuckle before replying, “Bloody terrifying! I had no clue what the hell I was doing. I was just a stupid kid in way over my head. Don’t really remember feelin’ older—I think I felt like a ponce mostly.”
“How old were you?”
“Twelve.”
“Twelve?! Good lord!”
“Yeah, I tried to grow up fast. Much too fast. I mean, my mum, I already told you about her line of work. We lived in boarding houses above, well—brothels, not to put too fine a point on it. I was a stupid, hormonal kid and extremely curious with way too many resources at my fingertips.”
“Did you love her at all?”
“No…I’m not proud of it. Done a lot of things I’m not proud of. I don’t tend to think with my brain—I follow my blood, my instincts. But, I…I hardly even knew her. She was in the business you might say, and quite a bit older than me. I tried to play it off, you know, but Christ I was a wreck!” he laughed.
“Can I ask—I’m sorry, it is none of my business, and it wouldn’t upset me because I do understand…but since I’ve never, I’m curious…”
“Is this the ‘how many’ question, pet? It’s all right, I can tell you. There was that first one, then Cecilia—she was the girl I knew in Paris—and you.”
“Really?” she asked, surprised.
She’d been cringing in preparation for his answer, assuming that a man of his station, experience, and appearance would be quite… practiced with women. He certainly seemed to handle himself well—so giving and confident and skilled, though Elizabeth had no basis for comparison.
“Really…In a way, I wish you were the first for me, so that everything could be new.”
“No, you shouldn’t wish that. It’s part of who you are, how you’ve grown—those experiences. Speaking of which, how old are you, anyway?” she asked quickly.
He laughed at her non-sequiter, his chest shaking with it.
“Nice way to slip that in. I’m a decrepit old man. Nearly twenty-six!”
“Heavens, that’s positively ancient!” she gasped in mock-horror.
When their laughter subsided and silence expanded around them, Elizabeth finally addressed the elephant in the room, sadly knowing that it could no longer be avoided. “I suppose we should go back soon and let Mr. Giles know that we’re all right,” she said.
“Yeah,” he sighed, “We got some work ahead of us. Gotta figure out what the hell it was that attacked us and how we kill it.”
“Yes,” she agreed solemnly, though instead of moving to get up, she threw one of her legs over William’s hip, drawing him so close that her bare breasts pressed against his chest.
His breath caught and he shuddered, his hands stroking down the smooth line of her back. Nestled against her belly, she felt the evidence of his arousal growing.
“Well,” he whispered thickly, “It’s early yet. We could stay on a while…”
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