Prague 1902

February...

Spike let the man go and watched him slip to the ground, still unconscious but alive. He'd even kept the wound small so as to lessen the blood loss and wrapped the man's tatty scarf around it. He felt the alcohol that had accompanied the drunk's blood flowing through his system. This one had been much easier. His victim had barely felt a thing since he'd been almost passed out by the time Spike came across him. With a final glance to make sure the man was sheltered and reasonably hidden from view, Spike left, heading back to the cemetery and his regular sleeping spot.

He'd killed once since the event with the girl a few weeks previously, and even then he hadn't meant to. He'd tackled his prey harder than he'd intended and the man's head had hit the ground hard, killing him instantly. Spike didn't want to dwell on what had changed. All he knew was that while he fed he was now more aware of his actions and the effect he was having on his victim. His days with Angelus had taught him how much blood was too much, and how much or how little pain he could inflict. Granted, his grandsire hadn't intended for Spike to put what he'd learned to use quite like this, but then none of them had known how different Spike was. Not even Spike himself had known.

He still couldn't explain why he was different. Maybe Drusilla had done something wrong, never having turned anyone before and not being stable herself. Or maybe he'd just been odd to begin with. Angelus had made a point that vampires didn't turn Hunters unless the vampire was sure about the Hunter's character. They didn't turn Slayers either. Was this why? Did this much of what they had been remain? Was that why Spike remembered so much of his life as Will; his feelings, thoughts, and beliefs?

Spike shook his head. No use thinking about it. He never had any answers. Dwelling on it only raised more questions. Besides, his ghosts did enough pondering for him. He still hadn't learned how to silence those voices and stop the visions of those he'd killed. His past haunted him every day, only granting him brief moments of respite. The temptation to speak to his hallucinations was still there, but he could control it a little better now. Feeding properly was probably helping. He could think much more clearly with a relatively full stomach than when he let himself half starve, barely able to stand on his feet, only giving in when the pain of the hunger grew too intense.

As he entered the cemetery, a scent reached his nose and he stopped. He inhaled again, deeply, and growled low in his throat. With a scowl in the direction of the source of the scent, Spike kept a wide berth from it, continuing to his crypt. He hadn't worked out yet whether the girl was suicidal or just incredibly stupid. He was still amazed she hadn't been picked off yet by any of the local demons. She'd become such a regular to that one grave that her scent lingered there, announcing to anything with a nose sharp enough that she'd be back, an easy meal if they ever caught her there after dark.

It wouldn't be so bad if she scarpered before night fell, but lately she'd been dallying longer, letting the sun set and remaining by the grave before her anxiety got the better of her and she left. Spike had the distinct impression she was waiting to catch a glimpse of him again. He'd made sure to stay far, far away from her. He was somewhat surprised her folks hadn't raised a mob to hunt him down after she'd seen him tear into that woman's throat, but maybe no one had believed her. Still, that wouldn't explain why she was sniffing around his territory every day. Spike was beginning to think that maybe he should leave Prague or at least move to another area, but scoffed when he realized he was thinking about relocating because of a child's curiosity.

Stalking into his crypt, Spike slammed the door closed behind him and flopped down into a corner, letting his head fall back against the cold stone wall as his eyes drifted shut.

"You're getting better at it," a gruff male voice said from a few feet away.

Spike snorted but didn't bother opening his eyes. He'd fall asleep eventually. What more could they have to say to him? His mind replayed the same thoughts daily. His ghosts wouldn't have any new revelations for him.

"No need to get pissy. I'm just commenting on your improvement lately. Know you don't need to hear it. Know you don't want to. Not one for profound conversation anyway. Just prefer to state the facts," Hobbes continued.

Spike ignored him. There was blessed silence for a while and Spike felt himself drifting in that half state between sleep and consciousness.

"If you're that worried about her, why not go out there and scare her off for good? You have control over yourself now. You could take a sip and send her running. A nip might be the final straw. Would be better for her, and you could leave too before a mob gathered. Set up somewhere new without worrying about it any longer."

The thought registered with Spike. It was one he'd considered when he learned she wasn't going to go away of her own volition. Too tired to make a decision, Spike finally fell asleep. Hobbes' presence had faded after his final suggestion as Spike's mind rested at last; a rest he could now achieve without exhausting himself from stress.

***

She thought she was being clever. Spike had made sure her presence had faded before leaving the crypt, thinking she'd gone home at last, but several minutes later he realized she'd decided to try and trick him. Instead of leaving, she'd exited the cemetery but remained in the area, waiting for him. Now she was following him at a distance.

He'd picked her up almost immediately. She was keeping out of sight but he could feel her, hear her, and smell her. He wondered if she planned to simply watch him hunt, follow him back to where he hid during the day after he'd fed, or confront him. Spike decided he wasn't going to give her the chance, making up his mind there and then to put an end to this new fascination of hers before it could get any more out of hand.

He took a few quick turns through the darkened streets and circled back around until he was behind her. Keeping to the shadows, he was practically invisible as he crept up on her. She stopped in an alley looking up and down, realizing she'd lost him. He could sense the fear rolling off her as she began to jerk her head from side to side, faster, perhaps lost. The streets looked different at night and it would be easy for even a local to lose their bearings if they weren't used to seeing the city covered in shadows.

It was now or never. Spike would scare any curiosity she had about him out of her and hopefully keep her from ever roaming around alone at night in future. He growled low in his throat, shifted into game face and prepared to pounce when something else beat him to it.

Spike paused as a demon dropped from the rooftops right in front of the girl who screamed and fell backwards. It was small, thin, and dark grey, humanoid in appearance, and it crawled along the ground with awkward movements. It advanced on the girl who scrambled backwards, crying.

Spike was frozen in indecision. His instincts were caught between fending off the demon or letting it do his job for him and give the girl the good scare she needed. The demon paused for a second and the girl turned her back on it, scrambling to her feet, preparing to run. The moment she found her footing the demon rushed forward, grabbing her and bringing her back down to the ground. It slashed at her back with one clawed hand and she cried out in pain. The smell of her blood hit Spike's nose and without thinking, he darted into the alley and threw himself at the creature as it bent to lap at the blood.

Spike hit the creature hard and the pair rolled across the ground. The demon ended up on top of Spike and snarled at him, showing off its discolored pointed teeth as it tried to slash at him with its claws. Spike snarled back and grabbed the demon's wrists, holding it away from him. He found an opening and kicked the demon up and over his head where it crashed into the alley wall.

Spike rolled onto his stomach and got into a crouching position, watching his foe. The demon whimpered as it got back to its feet and turned towards Spike again. The two eyed each other for a moment until, with a growl, the demon retreated, turning and scaling the walls quickly. He watched it go then got to his feet with a sigh.

A moan behind him caught Spike's attention and he turned to see the girl still lying on her stomach, whimpering in pain. Her arms were outstretched as though she had been attempting to crawl away but lacked the strength. Spike frowned. He didn't think the creature had cut her that deeply.

He approached the girl slowly. Her blood called to him but Spike ignored it—with difficulty. Shaking off his demon, Spike bent down and brushed aside the girl's long brown locks to get a better look at her injured shoulder. She whimpered and he could smell her tears. Four jagged claw marks had torn through her clothing and raked across her skin from her shoulder to the middle of her back. The cuts weren't that deep, but blood continued to flow, staining her coat. Spike sniffed and detected something he couldn't quite name, some strange odor mingling with her blood.

The girl let out a small cry and Spike realized he was growling low in his throat as he stared at her injuries. He ceased the noise with effort and made a conscious decision not to breathe, an experience he was still uncomfortable with. He removed his coat, wrapped it around her and carefully picked her up. He didn't look at her as he headed back to the cemetery, but was aware of her frightened gaze fixed on him. He wasn't quite sure what he was doing or why he was doing it. To be blunt, he was winging it.

Scanning the cemetery for any sign of demons or vampires, he eventually made it to his crypt, entered, and set the girl down on her uninjured side on a tatty blanket in a far corner. He walked away to close the door. Hopefully anything that had smelled the girl's blood would think twice about invading his space. Spike stared at the closed door, very aware of the furiously pounding heartbeat and shaky breathing of his little guest behind him.

Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to try and mentally prepare himself for the odd situation in which he found himself, he tried to figure out just what the hell he was even doing. Finally, Spike turned and took a few steps towards the girl before stopping and hunkering down in front of her.

She flinched when he first approached but relaxed when it became clear that he would keep his distance. She stared at him for a few seconds as he stared back, never once blinking until she avoided his gaze and looked around the crypt instead. After a time, her eyes flicked back to him and she swallowed.

"What…what are you going to do with me?" she asked, her voice shaky.

Spike cocked his head. The truth was, he didn't know. He was as lost as she was right now. She apparently took the gesture as a sign that he didn't understand her. She tried again.

"You speak Czech, yes? At least, a little. Um, you…are you going to—" she trailed off and gestured to her neck, her bottom lip trembling.

Spike shook his head. He could have answered her, but he was busy focusing on ignoring the scent of her blood and the hunger inside him.

She sighed in what he assumed was momentary relief before her eyes became wary again. She shifted, or tried to anyway, attempting to raise herself up to a sitting position but her arm shook and she was forced to lie back down on her side, panting heavily. Spike's eyes followed every small movement, studying her. He had a suspicion the demon had done something to her. She shouldn't be so weak.

"If you aren't going to bite me then why bring me here? Why—you saved me twice now."

Her tone was almost accusatory. Her heartbeat had slowed though it was still faster than normal and her breathing was beginning to regulate again. The girl's courage was coming back gradually with every second he remained non-threatening.

"I did," Spike replied in Czech, slowly, gauging her reaction.

She frowned a little but said nothing more, waiting for him to continue—waiting for him to explain. He couldn't. He decided to change the subject instead.

"Can you move?"

She blinked then attempted to rise again but couldn't. She breathed heavily for a moment before attempting to move her legs. She succeeded in sluggishly bending her knees and curling her legs up behind her, but that was as much as she could manage, and the effort had exerted her.

"Barely. I feel—stiff. Numb."

Spike nodded. Paralysis more than likely. Special trick the demon used to keep its victims immobile while it ate them alive. It would probably wear off in a few hours…he hoped. Either way, the girl wasn't walking out of here herself and Spike didn't fancy keeping her here much longer. The whole situation was bizarre, not to mention dangerous, for both of them.

"I'll take you home, but you need to show me the way, understand?"

Her eyes widened in surprise and she seemed to be at a loss. Spike quirked an eyebrow and waited for a response.

"You—you want to help me get home?"

Spike nodded.

"You're trying to help me?"

"If it's your family you're worried about, it's okay. I won't go near them. I'll take you to your house and leave you outside. They can help you. I can't."

"I don't understand," she began, but Spike cut her off, rising to his feet.

He preferred to avoid questions he had no answers to and he didn't know how much longer he could sit here with the scent of her blood all around him.

"I'm going to pick you up again now, okay?"

He didn't know why he was asking her first, but the words had slipped out before he had time to think about them. She blinked again, looking surprised, and nodded. He picked her up effortlessly and headed for the door again.

Outside, he quickly scanned their surroundings for any sign of trouble before making his way amongst the headstones to the cemetery gates.

"Darina," she said, as he slipped through the gate awkwardly.

Spike paused and looked at her, puzzled.

"My name", she said quietly. "It's Darina."

"Oh," Spike answered, feeling uncomfortable. "Uh, which way?"

She stared up at him silently for a moment before pointing a finger in the direction he should take. Spike looked away and continued on, still feeling her eyes on him. After a few steps he sighed.

"Spike. My name is Spike."

"An unusual name, but you're an unusual—er—"

"Vampire," Spike filled in for her as she struggled to get the word out. "I'll agree with you there."

They spent the rest of the journey in silence, Spike following Darina's gestures as to where they should go until they were staring at her house from the shadows on the opposite side of the road. Bright yellow light was streaming out of the windows and Spike could hear a number of anxious voices chattering away inside.

Darina's eyes were drooping and her breathing had changed again, to a raspy panting. She was in trouble and she needed help soon. Spike knew her awareness of her surroundings was fading. He shook her slightly to get her attention. With great effort she opened her eyes a little wider and turned her green gaze up to him. He glanced across at the house then back to her, quirking an eyebrow.

Darina turned her head slowly towards the house and nodded stiffly. Her eyelids started to droop again. Spike watched the house warily and made his way across to it. Outside the front door he paused, searched the street up and down, then placed her gently on the front step. Her eyes were fully closed now and she didn't even seem to notice that she'd been placed on the ground.

Rising, Spike knocked on the door and quietly slipped away, back into the shadows to watch. The door opened; there was an exclamation of shock, and soon a chorus of voices echoed into the night as the girl was carried inside and a doctor was called for. More light appeared in an upstairs window and people moved back and forth inside the room. Spike remained in his hiding spot for a few more minutes before leaving.

As he headed back towards the cemetery, he felt the heat that had seeped into his arms and chest from carrying Darina begin to drain away in the cold night air. He shivered without even noticing and increased his pace. Back at his crypt, he lay down wearily on the blanket in the corner. He was almost asleep before he realized her scent still clung to it, thick with the smell of her blood.

***

The next day, Spike couldn't keep his thoughts from drifting to the girl. Her scent still clung to his crypt and it was a relief when night had fallen and he could leave for a while. After he'd fed from a tramp he found huddled in a doorway, Spike found himself wandering towards Darina's house instead of back to the cemetery.

He cursed his foolishness but decided to continue his journey to the girl's home in hopes that seeing her safe would put his mind at ease. He could then move on somewhere else, where memories of her wouldn't bother him and he would be in no danger when the hunt for whatever wild animal the authorities thought had attacked her took place.

Hiding in the same shadowy spot across the street where he'd stood the previous night, Spike observed the house for signs of activity. Lights were burning in all the downstairs windows and many people could be seen hurrying back and forth inside. Spike turned his attention to Darina's window and saw dim light coming from the room, but no sign of any shadowy figure moving within.

After spending quite some time standing there in the cold, Spike decided to try and get a closer look. Checking to make certain that the street was empty, Spike crossed over until he stood next to the wall beside the house. An iron gate blocked the entrance to the small garden behind the wall. Through the bars of the gate Spike could see a second window to Darina's room at the side of the house. A tree stood in the garden, its branches reaching quite close to the window.

Double checking that no one was watching, Spike jumped over the wall and landed with a soft thump in the garden. A door from the house rattled and Spike melted into the shadows as a maid stepped outside, a bucket in hand. She emptied the water from the bucket into the short grass with a splash and re-entered the house, bolting the door behind her.

When he was certain she wasn't coming back, Spike walked over to the tree and made short work of climbing it, settling onto the solid branch that led to Darina's window. Spike looked in and quickly backed away after spotting a man at the far side of the room sitting opposite him. When everything remained silent and no one rushed to the window, Spike took a more cautious glance into the room.

The man was indeed sitting opposite Spike, but he wasn't facing the window. Instead, he was looking down at the bed. The man's salt and pepper hair was mussed and sticking up in places as though he'd been running his hands through it repeatedly. His ashen face was lined with worry and there were dark circles beneath his eyes. His mouth moved as he said something, and his lips turned up in a half hearted smile that didn't quite reach his eyes as his hand reached out and clasped a small pale one resting above the blankets before him.

Spike turned his attention from the man to the tiny figure resting in a bed that seemed too large for her. Darina's eyes were closed, her skin was deathly pale and her curly hair was fanned around her head like a dark halo. If not for the barely perceptible rise and fall of the blankets, Spike would have thought her dead.

Spike ran a hand down his face wearily then ran it through his hair. Darina wouldn't last much longer. Whatever that demon had done to her wasn't just temporary, and it didn't look as though it would be getting better soon. Spike cursed himself for not acting sooner and frightening her away before the demon had the chance to attack her. His hesitation was the reason she was lying on that—death bed right now.

"True, but then I suppose that depends on your perspective."

Spike nearly fell out of the tree. He did lose his footing and had to grab hold of the branch as he slipped sideways and prayed no one inside had noticed movement or heard the branches creak and rustle as he struggled to right himself.

"How stealthy of you."

Spike made certain he was balanced on the branch again before glaring down at the shadowy figure below him. Gray raised a hand to salute him and smirked. Spike shot one final glance into the room at the sick girl before dropping smoothly down to the ground. He straightened, frowning when he couldn't spot his former friend any longer.

"Much better. For a minute there, I was worried you were losing your touch."

Spike whirled around to find Gray leaning against the wall of the small garden, hands in his pockets as he stared up at the cloudy sky. Spike relaxed and shook his head, marching back to the wall and leaping over it, ignoring Gray's amused glance.

"Where might you be off to then?" Gray asked, appearing on the other side of the wall the second Spike's feet touched the ground.

Spike swiped his hair out of his face and slipped across the street, back into the shadows and out of sight of the house. Once there, he marched purposefully back to his usual hunting ground. Gray's image appeared now and again every few paces just ahead of him, a curious look on his face. After a while Spike came to a halt next to one of the many darkened alleyways in the maze of a city, recognizing it as the one where Darina had been attacked. The one to which he'd led her in order to scare her away.

"Willie-boy," Gray's voice called behind him, "what are you up to?"

Spike entered the alley and stood there with his eyes closed. He could smell her blood still clinging to the spot where she'd been sprawled across the ground. He concentrated harder and finally picked it up; the strange odor mixed with her blood that had come from the demon's paralyzing venom. He wrinkled his nose in disgust and growled. There was a crunching noise as his face shifted, so when he opened his eyes his vision was much clearer in the dark and his sense of small became even sharper.

He caught it eventually…the scent of the demon, the trail leading up and around the building where he'd seen it disappear. It hadn't faded yet. He shouldn't have much trouble tracking it.

Spike's stomach clenched and he fought off a wave of dizziness. He was getting hungry again. He hadn't taken enough from the tramp earlier, knowing the man would need it more to withstand the cold, not having anyone to care for him. The thirst was beginning to gnaw at him and he swayed on his feet as his surroundings blurred a little.

"Oh dear. Looks like someone needs to find a bite to eat."

There was a sound similar to a whoosh of air, and Spike caught a flicker of movement next to him. He turned his head and was met with a pair of yellow eyes staring back at him threateningly.

"Poor boy's going to starve himself. You need to keep your strength up, William. You have places to be, people to kill."

Spike lurched backwards and Anne laughed, clasping her hands in front of her and grinning at him around her fangs.

"Or maybe you don't want to kill people." She glanced at the rooftop the demon had disappeared over. "Perhaps you have trickier prey in mind. I'm curious what it is you think you're doing. I suppose I shall have to accompany you to find out. I never did get to see my boy in action."

"Change," Spike demanded as his stomach clenched again. "Change back. Stop looking like her."

"My dear boy, that's no way to speak to your mother. I love you. I only want to be with you. I'm worried about you, William."

She pressed her hands to her chest, above her heart, and her face changed; the ridges, fangs and yellow eyes fading away.

"Stop it!" Spike shouted, closing his eyes. "Change! Not her, not her, not her," he chanted.

"Why ever not? What is it about those filthy men you slaughtered that makes them more comforting than me? Or perhaps you wish to see your other mother." Her tone became harsher, bitterness seeping in as her voice grew in volume.

"Not her, not her, not her," Spike whispered, continuing the mantra in an attempt to force his mind away from her image.

"That insane creature who stole you away from everything you were. The one who gave you the new life you despise so much. The whore that made you what you are yet you love her even now!"

Spike retreated from the vision, let his demon take over, opened his eyes and roared. Snarling, he stared at the empty street, the only sound the wind echoing between the alley walls and a cat that let out a frightened yowl somewhere nearby. He was breathing heavily, taking in big lungfuls of air he didn't need. His stomach growled and he clutched at it. His vision swam again and he shook his head to try and clear it.

When he regained focus he stumbled out of the alley and tried to calm himself enough to concentrate. Eventually, he picked up the faint sound of voices in the distance. Pushing everything that had just occurred to the back of his mind, Spike headed in that direction, determined to keep the hunger at bay before the madness took him over again.