Chapter 34
“What do you mean you can’t drive?” Spike turned on his heel with a pack of Skittles in his hand, staring at her as though she said she’d just grown an extra limb.
“It’s not like I haven’t tried. I just really suck at it. Last time I drove, I wrecked Dad’s car. I’ve been pedestrian Buffy ever since.”
“All right, that’s it.” He drew himself to his full height, which wasn’t all that impressive, now that she thought about it. For some reason, he always seemed so imposing and larger than life. It had to be the coat. “I’m teaching you.”
“I don’t think you got the impending death message, which is what will happen if you put me behind the wheel.”
He racked up four more packets of sweets and a muffin while she opted for a healthier sandwich.
“That’s bollocks and you know it.” His face was the very definition of smugness. “Never pegged you to be a scaredy cat.”
“I’m not a scaredy cat.” She pouted. “I just don’t like wheely things. And now you’re bullying me into driving by saying I’m scared. Don’t think I’m not aware of your shady tactics.”
With their purchases, they walked out of the gas station and into the warm night. “Got me there. So, you won’t even try?”
“Fine.” She sighed and bit into her sandwich. Pickles. Yuck! She chucked them onto a napkin with disgust and followed Spike into the car. “I’ll do it, but don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”
“Hey give me those.” He snatched the pickles and chewed on them with great relish before starting up the engine.
“That’s gross.”
“What are you talking about? Pickles are yummy.”
Why did he have to sound so cute when he said ‘yummy’? “You’d better savour them before you face the horrible death of me driving into a lamp post.”
“Don’t be daft. Everyone can learn how to drive. We’ll just go somewhere a tad more remote.”
******
“Watch out!” Spike gripped the door handle as though his life depended on it. With the way Buffy was drunkenly weaving down the thankfully deserted road, it probably did. “Slow down woman, or you’ll take out those trash cans.”
She glanced down at her feet. “Which one is the brake again?”
Before he could reply, the car lurched forward and while Buffy missed the trash cans, she rammed straight into a mailbox. Good thing nobody was around to witness that bit of accidental vandalism.
“Oops.” Buffy put on the brakes then and looked at him as if she expected him to bite her.
“I’m not letting you drive ever again.”
“It wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“I can say that you’re officially the worst bloody driver I’ve ever met.”
“Now you’re just being mean.” They exited the car to peruse the damage.
As he suspected, the mailbox previously perched on a long wooden post had been obliterated by Buffy’s deadly driving. Sod the mailbox. It was the sight of the front bumper dented in the middle that had his heart sinking.
“Spike, are you okay? You look a little pale.”
He dragged in a breath and slowly let it out. “I’m peachy.”
“I’m really sorry.” Her voice was small and she looked so guilty he couldn’t really be mad at her even if he wanted to.
“No need to be sorry. ‘S nothing a bit of tweaking won’t fix. Besides, I’m the one who put you up for this.”
“But I almost got it, right? The driving stuff?”
“We’ll try again. Somewhere with absolutely no obstacles and definitely no pedestrians.”
Her face fell and they got into the car with him in the driver’s seat this time.
“I’m doomed to take public transport forever, aren’t I?”
“Hey, I’ve never thought I’d be able to do anything but write bloody awful poetry. And now I kick some serious arse.”
“Poetry you say?”
The too curious glimmer in her eyes didn’t bode well for his manly image. “I’m not letting you take a gander at any of it.”
“Does that mean you’re still writing it?”
Oh, bugger. “No.” She gave him that ‘yeah, right’ look that made him feel about two inches tall. “You must be tired and hungry, yeah? I know I’m knackered. How about we stop for a bit of a rest? That all right with you?”
“Sure. Don’t want you falling asleep while driving. Also, I could really use a shower.”
She did have to go and plant the image of her naked soaped up body into his overly imaginative mind, didn’t she? And the water… how it would sluice down her curves, cling to her soft skin. And those delicate hands getting all her nooks and crannies squeaky clean. Yeah…
“Spike?”
“Hmm?”
“You should probably turn here if you don’t want to miss the motel. See? There’s one right over there.” She pointed to the neon sign blinking in the distance.
“Right. Good thinking.”
His neck prickled in awareness at being watched and despite his attention never straying from the road, he could sense her stealing glances. She was bloody distracting. Her legs every time she’d shift in her seat, the sound of her breaths and little worried sighs that would occasionally tumble past her lips. And her scent. The scent of spring and wild flowers blooming in the interior of his car had been driving him off his bird.
The gravel of the parking lot crunched under the tires as he put on the brakes and shut off the engine.
“This feels very surreal,” she said quietly, her expression partially concealed by shadows.
He could relate more than she realised. How many times had his world tilted off its axis only to send him flying into open space with nothing to grab onto? It never got easier. “You’ll learn to roll with the punches. Adapt. ‘S the only thing you can do, really.”
She smiled a little, her eyes doe like. “I guess you’re right.” She straightened up in her seat and pushed the door open. “Let’s get going. Don’t want to sit around all day, do we?”
“Right you are, kitten.”
She started for the briefest moment then disappeared out of the car. Not before he caught the tiniest smile on her face though. A secret one that he suddenly wished to see again and again.
“Cor, the things you do to me,” he muttered, knowing she couldn’t hear as she rounded the car to gather her stuff.
He had a feeling this wouldn’t end well, but he couldn’t seem to care at all.
*******
Meanwhile in Los Angeles
The first thing Eline heard was the barely audible cadence of a lullaby. Soft, gentle tones of a deranged mother singing to her imaginary child. Then came the stench. The dull, colourless stench of death.
Not again.
She pushed the door open and immediately spotted Drusilla as she swayed from side to side in front of a large bay window. With the moonlight spilling over her, she looked like a ghost in her long, white silk dress splattered with blood. A macabre painting roused to life.
“I got a new dollie. Her name is Isabelle,” Drusilla said, cooing at something she cradled in her arms.
With a sigh, Eline approached her, wishing she knew how to put an end to Drusilla’s obsession with having a child.
“You shall be her Godmother and we’ll be a happy family.”
“It’s dead, Dru.” No thrumming heartbeat, not a hint of a breath. The infant lay brokenly in Drusilla’s arms with its neck twisted at an unnatural angle, its sallow skin so thin it seemed as if it would tear at the most delicate of touches.
“She’s just sleeping.” Drusilla smothered the infant’s face to her chest and if it had still been alive, it would certainly have died from suffocation now. “She shall wake up soon enough and we’ll play.”
“Where did you find her?”
Drusilla’s human teeth flashed in an eerie grin. “She whispered to me, told me to rescue her, so I did. See, Eline? She’ll be our little dollie now. Nobody will take her away.”
By the look of Drusilla’s dress, the child’s parents certainly wouldn’t. She always was a messy eater.
“So, what do you want to do with her? Play poker? Have a few shots?”
Drusilla scowled. “This is not a joke. If you don’t wish to be a part of our family, you can leave.”
“No need to be overdramatic.” Eline leaned against Drusilla’s side and pinched the dead infant’s stiff cheek. “See? I’m all over it.”
“She’s a cuddly little thing, isn’t she?”
“Yup.” Which is probably why it ended up dead. Drusilla often forgot her strength. The child had probably been crying and in her attempt to quiet it down, Drusilla had clutched too hard.
The door behind them slammed shut. Neither had noticed him approaching. No one ever did unless he wanted them to.
“What’s that smell?”
They exchanged a worried glance before turning around to face their Sire.
“For fuck’s sake, Dru, I told you not to bring your dinner home. Now the entire house is going to reek of a dead corpse.”
“It’s not a corpse, her name is Isabelle.”
Angelus lifted his eyebrow and sauntered too close for comfort, hovering over them both, a behemoth on the verge of pouncing. Deceptively calm yet filled with malicious intent. “Get rid of it. Now.”
Drusilla’s bottom lip quivered.
Without preamble, Angelus yanked the baby out of her arms and tossed it on the bed. Drusilla screamed and dashed towards it but Angelus gripped her upper arm and shoved her to the floor with a smile on his face.
“Leave her alone,” Eline said, tilting her head back to meet his gaze.
“Want all my attention for yourself, do you?” He caressed her jaw before clamping his fingers hard around her throat. “Been there, done that. Maybe later.”
The hard floor sent pain shuddering up her spine as she was pushed down next to Drusilla.
“Where’s the next one?” he asked Drusilla whose gaze flickered to the dead baby sprawled on the bed. He knelt down and combed his fingers through her glossy hair, turning on his charm to get what he wanted. “You can keep cute little Isabelle if you tell me where the next Potential is.”
Her lids flickered as she reached inside herself to search for the location, to connect to her psychic abilities. She’d once told Eline that it was like flipping through a picture book full of a Potential’s memories until it came to rest on her latest location.
“Yanling, China.”
Angelus pressed a lingering kiss on Drusilla’s lips that left Eline nauseous before whispering, “Daddy loves you.”
Drusilla clutched at his wrist, dazed and reverent. “Grandma is there as well.”
“Mmm, Darla, you say?” He rose to his feet, effortless and graceful. “Yanling it is.”
She watched as Drusilla’s gaze followed his exit and not for the first time Eline feared that the hold he had over Drusilla was too strong. Trying to defy a sire’s direct order was as easy as trying to chew through metal. It was an inherent, deep-seated urge to obey that even Eline couldn’t fight.
Drusilla was fragile. Lost. If push came to shove, what if she wouldn’t be able to finish what they’d started? What if she wouldn’t be willing to betray him? Was sending Angelus to China and into Darla’s cold arms a brilliant plan of distraction or a way to take another step towards the world’s demise?
Looking at Drusilla cuddling the dead baby to her chest, she no longer knew.
*******
Spike rolled over on his back to stare at the ceiling. Sleep wouldn’t come despite the late hour and his tiredness.
“Are you asleep?”
Apparently, he wasn’t the only one.
“Yes,” he said, just to be obnoxious.
“Okay, good.” The sheets rustled. “Do you think demons lie?”
“Do people lie?” he countered, his fingers drumming a beat on his bare stomach.
“Well, yes. Sometimes.”
“There you go then.”
She sighed, and he knew he was hardly being helpful. Against his better judgment, he rolled onto his side to face her even though all he could see was a lump beneath the covers. “What’s this about then? Doing research on demon behaviour?”
The lump shifted and he had a feeling she was facing him as well. “I was just…” Another sigh. “The demon who tried to kill me, she said something. You remember Anya?”
“Never met her but I know the name. A friend of yours, yeah?”
“Yes.”
She fell silent.
“What about her?” he prompted. “Tell me what the trouble is.”
“The demon that attacked me said Anya was dead. That she killed her. I went to Anya’s house straight after and I couldn’t find her. Do you think… do you think she’s…”
The rest of the sentence hung in the air and he wished he knew the right thing to say. That the pleading quality in Buffy’s voice wouldn’t pull at the heartstrings he tried to pretend he didn’t have. “I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “Demons, they lie sometimes. To get your hackles up, to throw you off or just for fun. It might not mean anything.”
She didn’t reply but he could almost hear her mind going a mile a minute. “There’s no sense worrying. Not until you know for sure.”
“You’re right,” Buffy said, still troubled. Anya wasn’t picking up her phone and Xander hadn’t heard from her either since Buffy had received a worried text from him about an hour ago. That didn’t mean anything, right?
She had to believe it didn’t.
“I’m sorry I left.”
Buffy started a little at the quiet rumble of his voice.
“I should have said goodbye and you’re right to be brassed off. I just thought it would be… easier. And I didn’t know if you’d even care.”
Buffy wondered whether he would have let the regret slip through so fully in the harsh light of day. There were millions of thoughts running through her mind, confessions and feelings that longed to be said out loud. There was something safe and melancholic about the darkness that made secrets slip out more easily.
“You don’t need to apologise. I understand why you left the way you did. Doesn’t mean I had to like it though.”
“Buffy…”
“I do care, you know.”
“You do,” he said, sounding disbelieving. How could he not believe her when she spilled out her guts for him to see, to crush into fine powder?
“Well, I don’t get half naked with people I hate. You’re irritating and smug and a million other things I can’t think of right now. But the point is, if I didn’t care I wouldn’t have stuck around. I wouldn’t have let you do… those things.”
He unsuccessfully tried to smother a chuckle. “Only you can insult me and flatter me in the same sentence.”
She smiled even though he couldn’t see it. “I’m special like that.”
“Yeah, you are,” he said, quietly and somberly. She had a feeling he was saying it to himself rather than to her and she suddenly didn’t know what to do with her hands. “And I’m always up for doing ‘those things’ you mentioned.”
And there he went, always using innuendos to throw her off balance.
She buried her face in the pillow to stifle a groan. How was it possible to want to kill someone and kiss them at the same time? Although if she was honest, the urge to kiss him was just a bit stronger.
It would be a miracle if she got to Cleveland with her heart still intact.
TBC
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to everyone who reviews, it always gives my motivation a mighty boost. :) And thanks to All4Spike for being an amazing beta!
Chapter End Notes:
More road trip fun coming up in the next chapter!