The bodies of the victim’s wife and two children lay face forward at the crucified mans feet where they had fallen. These had been the veritable banquet for the vampires who had done this. At first Wesley had wondered why the children had remained kneeling in front of their father as the two vampires had first drained their mother. A quick examination revealed the answer. They too had been victims of Spike’s old modus operandi. Railway spikes had been driven through each of their knees, pinning them to the floor. The mother had also received the same treatment. All of them had been gagged the same way as the father.   

“Have you finished Agent Price?” the uniformed officer asked him.

Wesley nodded.

“How did this happen?” the uniform asked as they made way for the police photographer, heading out of the room and into the garden. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“They came in sometime during the night before last. Most probably they hid in the cellar to wait out the sun.” Wesley said, almost to himself. I’m guessing they woke early and decided to have some fun.”

The officer looked shocked. “You call this fun Sir?” he almost shouted.

Wesley shook his head. “No Deacon, I call it ghastly. My best guess is the father was first. The came up out of the cellar and surprised him, probably whilst he was fixing dinner.”

“What makes you think that?”

“The briefcase in the hall is of a feminine style, and the wife is wearing a business suit. He’s in slacks and a t-shirt. There’s an onion and a couple of peppers chopped on the kitchen counter and an open tin of tomatos. Somehow I doubt the wife would risk spoiling her business suit making a tomato sauce.” Wesley told him. “As I said, they probably tied him up, and waited for the children to come home. Then, with them also tied up, it was a simple matter to wait for the last player in their little game.” Wesley recoiled from the thoughts coursing through his mind. Images of Spike and Faith waiting in the darkened hall. The woman turning her key in the lock, wondering why the lights were all off. Calling out to her family as she stepped through the door, maybe having enough time to shut it behind her before they pounced.

“I think they started with the father, setting up the audience first for their little show. Then probably the mother, and then the children.” He couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice.

“You’ve been after these guys for a while I guess, huh?” Deacon asked him.

Wesley nodded. “I’ve chased them across five different states now from Louisiana to Arizona. They’ve left a bloody trail all the way here.”

“They’re heading west then,” Deacon stated. “which probably means they’re heading for California. Do you know why that might be?”

“Wesley nodded. “I can think of one particular reason, yes.”

                        ********************************************

Drusilla took her victim quickly. She was in no mood to play tonight, and she knew that she had to move quickly now. William and the Dark Slayer were close, and she was anxious for revenge. That little party they’d had in Phoenix had made her angry. The little witch had been right. The Dark Slayer was trying to take her place in the world, and that was something she would not, could not tolerate.

When she had finished feeding, she made her way back to the small imported sports car she had taken from the guy she’d ate in Florida. She liked the sleek dark lines of the MG. Its curves reminded her of a big cat as it hunted in the night. It reflected herself. She was hunting prey, and soon the hunt would be over.

She’d not been back to California for quite a while now, not since that dreadful moment when William had offered to kill her for the other one. Little had ever scared Dru since she’d been embraced, but that moment, when she looked into the eyes of her true love, and saw that he loved another…that had been a nightmarish moment.

She’d been away from him too long.

And now he had betrayed her once again. Drusilla had experienced many emotions in the past. Lust, desire, happiness, sadness, and even occasionally fear, but this one was new to her. Jealousy. She knew how to cause it, was an expert at bringing it out in men, but she had never really felt it before. And now, she felt its savage embrace, and she wrapped herself in it, allowing it to fuel her anger.

She was closing on her prey now. As she started the car and drove into the night, she came to a decision she had been putting off for a while now. Phoenix had convinced her. Never again would she allow William to choose another over her. Never again.

 Even if that meant…

                        ******************************************

“I’m sorry Wesley. We tried it your way, and it didn’t work.”

Wesley looked into Giles eyes, a challenge of sorts. Giles had age, and experience as a watcher on him, but Wesley had the feeling he won on life experiences. Wesley’s fingers went to his throat, as they always did when he was under stress, and fingered the scar there. He sometimes thought Justine’s knife had opened his eyes to the world when it had opened his throat.

Giles held Wesley’s gaze steadily, not backing down. He knew that the once young watcher before him had gone through a lot, but that was no excuse for the arrogant attitude he now had. All in all, Giles had preferred the meek, bookish Wesley.

Finally, it was Wesley who looked away first, turning towards the window.

“We don’t know that it hasn’t worked. The last report put Drusilla a day behind them and gaining fast. We don’t know what she will do when she gets to them, but from what Willow told us, I can bet it won’t be pretty.”

“Yes, but how many people are going to die before she reaches them? What’s the count so far?”

“37. Men, women and children, gutted, tortured, or simply drained of their blood. None of their deaths were clean or quick.”

Giles gave the younger man a sympathetic look. Despite all the arrogance, it had been Wesley that had gone to examine every single one of the crime scenes. Sometimes he had accompanied him, sometimes Willow, but Wesley was the only one of the three of them to view every single massacre, almost as if he felt guilty for each death. Giles hated to lay the blame on him, but in a way, Wesley was responsible, at least in part.

Giles lay a companionable hand on Wesley’s shoulder. “We tried your idea. I think it’s time we alerted Angel to the situation.”

“No.”

“Wesley. Be reasonable. I know you’ve had your problems with Angel, but you have to see past that. You have to realize he’s our only hope.”

Wesley shook his head. “There is another hope Rupert.”

Giles let out a short laugh of derision. “Your surely not still pinning all your hopes on the jealousy of Drusilla are you?”

Wesley shook his head again, a minute gesture, once to the right, once to the left, and then back to centre. His eyes caught Giles’ own once more. “No Rupert, I’m not.”

“Then who?” Giles demanded. “Where did you send Willow? What are you up to?”

                        *******************************************

Willow was not fond of flying. She hated the thought of nothing but metal between her and the minus 54 degree’s outside the plane. That and the 35,000 foot drop should anything go wrong. She closed her eyes, trying to allow the soothing music playing through her headphones calm her. After a short while, sleep claimed her.

~She lay in her bed at the Summers house. She looked to the window, and saw that sunlight was streaming in through the open curtains. Smiling she rolled onto her side, her arm instinctively wrapping around the sleeping figure next to her.

The sunlight shimmered through the halo of blonde hair, and Willow leant forward, placing a kiss upon the cheek of the woman she loved more than life itself.

Willow smiled happily to herself as Tara stirred and woke. She watched her smile and felt her drawing her hand to her lips to place a loving kiss in her palm. Willow closed her hand over that kiss and snuggled closer, wrapping her arm around Tara’s body once more.

“I love you Tara.” She whispered against the other woman’s hair.

“I love you too Willow.” Tara replied.

Willow became aware of a sudden wetness against her arm. She could feel the material of Tara’s nightgown sticking to her. Raising it from her lover’s body to look, she knew what she would find. As her bloody arm came into view, she let out a scream.

Tara rolled into her then, turning to face her, and Willow’s scream became a wail of anguish.

Gone were the beautiful features of the face she knew so well. It their place was the rawness of muscle, exposed and bleeding. The blond hair was now dark, shorter, and curly. The skinless face grinned at her, blood dripping onto the fresh white linen of the bed.

“I love you Willow.” Warren told her.~

“Señorita? Are you alright?”

Willow opened her eyes, dragging the headphones from her head. People were looking at her from the other seats around her. There was even a stewardess standing beside her, her hand on Willows arm.

“You were screaming in your sleep miss. Are you alright?” the stewardess asked.

Willow took a moment to compose herself. Always the same dream. She looked up at the stewardess finally and nodded. “Yes, thank you. It was just a nightmare.” Satisfied, the stewardess moved back down the plane, and the other passengers turned back to face the front.

Willow turned to her companion and smiled.

“I’m sorry about that. I hope I didn’t frighten you.”

                        *******************************************

The house was in darkness. As they watched it from the alley, Spike knew they would have to make their move soon. They’d been watching the house all day, safe in their shaded alley, away from direct sunlight. He’d been sorely tempted to follow Xander when the young man had left the house that morning. He’d even formulated a plan to kill each of Buffy’s friends one by one, but he’d decided against it. It was her he wanted. The others were inconsequential. He’d pick them off later.

Buffy was not at home. He knew that much. She’d not returned from her nights patrol. He wondered where she could be. Maybe with a new lover, maybe back working at the Doublemeat. Perhaps she was injured, lying in some hospital somewhere recovering from wounds caused by some demon, or vampire, or some other denizen of hell.

No. Not Buffy. She was too good for that. Nothing could touch her, and he knew it. Nothing except him, and Faith. He was looking forward to the fight. It was inevitable of course. They would fight, and he would beat her down. With Faith at his side, he could not loose, and then, they would share her blood.

And so, he waited patiently for Buffy to return to the house. She would have to return eventually. The little bit had come home. Someone had to be there to look after her.

That had thrown him for a moment. Despite all the killing he and Faith had done, despite all the murder and mayhem, the feasting, he did not know if he could bring himself to harm Dawn. They had formed a bond whilst he was with the Slayer, and even with the artificial conscience of the chip removed, he found he was still fond of Dawn.

‘I’ll let Faith have her.’ he thought to himself. That way his conscience, what little of it was still left, was clear.

Faith, standing beside him, sighed suddenly.

“Penny for them pet?” Spike asked his lover.

Faith looked lovingly at him. He was everything to her now. Her old life meant very little to her anymore. She had all the memories, but they seemed distant now, somehow unimportant. “I was just wondering what we’re going to do after we finish up in here in Sunnydale.” she told him.

Spike smiled, and leant forward, running a finger down her cheek and placed it gently against her lips. Faith grinned, and drew his finger between them, nipping at his finger with her sharp teeth, and sucking gently along its length, pulling the small amount of blood she had brought into her mouth. She drew his finger out of her mouth, and extended her tongue. It was clear to see the blood pooled there, and Spike leaned forward, to lock lips with her as they kissed around his blood.

When they broke, his face remained close to hers, their lips almost, but not quite touching, their eyes locked together. His arms slid around her waist.

“After we’re done here pet, the world is our playground. We can go anywhere we want in the world.”

Faith’s eyes suddenly widened. Spike felt the heat from her body against his skin. He was blinded by light as her face cracked, turning gray, and he made a little sound of surprise as he stumbled forward, through ash. As he caught himself his eyes refocused on the person standing in front of him, a sliver of wood in her hand, held at heart height.

“I hear Prague is lovely this time of year William.”

                                                            *

This is dedicated to the memory of Sweet’s fish, whose constant vertical swimming antics drove her to such desperation, she IM’d me constantly to seek out my aquatic advice, making it very hard to concentrate on writing this story.

                                                            *