Thanks to Oracle Holly for beta'ing

 

She tried to fight him off, to kick or shove him, but he was so strong. His arms were like a vice as he pinned her to the ground. As his head lowered to her neck, she knew it was over, Slayers only had a limited life expectancy; however, she had hoped for more, longer than her 18 years. Still she fought as his face descended, shaking her head from side to side trying to prevent the bite she knew was coming.

“Hush pet, be a good girl and lie still,” he purred, “not gonna hurt you, just want a taste.”

He pressed his face against her pinning her head to the side and exposing her throat. With surprising gentleness his fangs slid through the tender skin of her neck, moaning softly in appreciation as he allowed her racing heart to pump the precious blood into his mouth and down his throat.

Moments later, he licked gently at the wound healing it, having placed a soft kiss on her neck he murmured, “thanks love, been a while since I’ve had the good stuff.” With that he was gone. Slowly she raised herself from the ground, limbs trembling, she was alive, why, how, she didn’t know, she didn’t care.

Slightly dazed she made her way back to the tenuous safety of her deceased Watchers’ apartment.

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

He had seen her from the shadows and watched her fighting. Her fluid grace and beauty tugged at his heart, conjuring images from a time which seemed both an eternity ago and yet mere moments… images of a beautiful slayer, golden and delicate, his heart, his love, his life. GONE! The familiar surge of grief and longing filled him as he watched this young slayer dance.

She was tiny like his love, ash blonde hair shining in the moonlight, golden skin gleaming. He had seen many slayers in the 65 years since his love’s passing. They were all amazing fighters, but none till this one had reminded him of her, none till this one had held him entranced. None till this one had even come close to the strength and power of his girl.

Before he knew what he was doing he had made his way out into the open, to dance with a slayer. She was good, but still so new to her calling that the dance didn’t last long.    Without thought he had pinned her to the ground holding her there with ease even as she continued to fight and thrash not giving in even though she was clearly beaten. She was amazing in a way no slayer had been since her.  He had watched so many of them, but never spoken to them, never let them know he was there, not one had known how close they had been to a Master vampire with the death of two slayers under his belt, the death of two and the infinite love of one.

He swallowed the lump of anguish which rose in his throat and suddenly knew what he hungered for, what he hadn’t tasted in 65 years, slayer’s blood. Ambrosia to his kind, imbuing the drinker with strength and power, a few mere mouthfuls enough to stave off hunger for days. Speaking gentle words in an effort to calm the terrified girl beneath him, he lowered his head allowing his fangs to slide gently through warm soft skin, a moan sounding and his eyes closing as the delicious, warm powerful nectar filled his mouth and slid down his throat.

Tears sprang to his eyes as he gently licked the wound closed, he placed a soft kiss on the girls throat and mumbled some obscure words of thanks before releasing her and fleeing at full speed, not caring where he was going as long as it was away! Some time later, he wasn’t sure how much time had passed or how long he had been running, he came to an exhausted halt. Dropping to his knees on the hard surface of the pavement, heedless of his surroundings, a deep long keen sounded, his body shuddering with the agonized sobs that engulfed him.

Hours later as the approaching sunrise breached his agonized mind he stumbled to his feet, making his way without error towards his hotel and the welcome oblivion of sleep.

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

Days and nights passed, time spent exploring this new town. It was a small satellite town, which had risen over the last 20 years, 100 kilometres or so west of the outskirts of Brisbane and its surrounding cities.

Australia, like most countries over the last century had grown upwards, nearly all Newtowns  and cities were being built inland, in the more harsh and rugged terrain, leaving the lush coastal lands for farming and grazing. Many of the previous outer fringes of the once sprawling cities had been reclaimed by the government years ago for food production. The populace choosing either to move to the newer satellite towns called Newtowns with their smaller apartment blocks and continued surface living to the west, or into the ever increasing concrete jungles reaching high above the skyline and more recently far below the surface of the older cities.

These interconnected towering masses of concrete and steel, which meant most people never needed to touch the outside air throughout the course of their lives, formed a safe haven and virtual playground for the world’s vampires. Cities such as these had sprung up throughout the world. Such practices as cremation, which saved space previously taken over by graveyards, meant changes to the time-honoured methods of turning new vampires. Those being turned could no longer be left to rise from their graves but instead required the Sire to take the corpse of  their would-be Childe to a safe haven to await their rising. Movement however was no longer restricted to hours of darkness only.  The artificial lighting, while still supplying the vitamin D required by humans, did not imitate sunlight close enough to be harmful to vampires, and the food supply was more than plentiful.

Sirius, however, was a Newtown. With paved footpaths and roads, grass and trees, and businesses out in the bright sunlight and fresh air. It even had an old fashioned graveyard as well as the usual indoor crematorium memorial gardens typical of the big cities. Here children played in the parks and streets, travelled to school on the government provided electric buses, listened to the birds sing and rain fall. The citizens had the option of either walking the streets or using the free public electric buses, in some cases electric cars that were made available upon request to individuals for temporary use.

Spike explored, learning the best haunts for the local vampire population, seeking out the demon bars and seedy underlife that forms wherever civilisation occurs. When he spotted a vampire he removed it, a duty he carried on for those who were no more, no longer revelling in the violence, however welcoming its relief.

Wherever he travelled in the world he fought against the forces of evil, forces of which he was once a member. The fight had once been a joy. A shared dance with a partner who anticipated his moves before he made them, a partner who’s grace and beauty, who’s strength and power left him awestruck every time. Now he fought her fight for her as he knew this is what she would want, he fought for her, for her Watcher and friends who had become his friends, for her sister who was like a daughter to them both, for their memory, for their descendants.

Time moved on and loved ones passed leaving behind flesh and blood reminders of the lives they had lived. He had watched their children grow, some he had even held in his arms, tossed high in the air and caught up again in strong hands that never faltered. After she passed he stopped visiting. He would watch over them—guard them from dangers, cherish their joys, and ache for their hurts but he left them alone; left them to live their lives.

But as years passed children grew, married and had children of their own. All of those he had once been close to were gone now, yet it was for them he continued to fight; continued the work they had dedicated their lives to. He travelled constantly, not staying in one place for more than a year or two then moving on to a new destination, a new threat.

It was this, which had brought him within close proximity to the majority of the slayers to be called since his love’s death. He had helped them without their knowledge; taking out threats where he found them, doing what he could to aid their cause. He had not, however, taken it upon himself to guard these slayers. No, he did what he could whilst he was there, and then he left.

Slayers lived short brutal lives. He had learned the lesson years ago; attachments to humans caused nothing but pain. So he kept his loved ones in his heart and moved through this world with their company alone. 

BACK              NEXT